It’s been 25 years since my first concert with this lady. We were 12 years old when my dad took my best friend and me to see Dwight Yoakam in San Benito, Texas. We stood behind a group of rowdy teenage boys who were drinking Miller Lite and swearing like sailors when my dad stepped in and posed as a TABC agent. That’s the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission, and I wouldn’t learn until a few years later that the acronym alone struck fear into the hearts of beer-drinking high-schoolers where I grew up. Needless to say, it didn’t take long for those boys to act right. We got to see Mr. Yoakam again recently – this time in Austin – and his inimitable twang took me right back to that show in 1992. If there’s a statute of limitations on impersonating an officer on behalf of your tween daughter and her BFF, I hope it’s run out by now.
This time of year always fills me to the brim with contentment that has nothing to do with puffy vests or Ugg boots. Let’s be clear. I’ll take tamales over pumpkin-spiced lattes any day. The reason I love this season is because it was autumn in Austin when my husband and I began to knit our relationship together. It was Halloween night after all when I first met his sons – me dressed as Garth from “Wayne’s World,” no less.
We waltzed right into winter with our Austin bucket list in tow. During those magical months of courtship, we shared lots of new local experiences and we continue to seek unique ways to spend time together. Psychology tells us that couples who play together stay together. And research shows that long-term love is often cultivated in novel, engaging or even challenging activities together. Case in point: I’ve compiled 10 new date night ideas to consider in Austin.
Read the rest of this piece at Austin Mom’s Blog.
After an election year filled with vitriol, many parents like myself were left trying to figure out how to explain the outcome to our children. I wondered what our boys were thinking and feeling. What was going through their thoughtful minds? Children are often told that grown-ups know best. They may assume that they should emulate adults, especially those in leadership roles. That includes the president of this country, however, and I most certainly don’t want my sons emulating our president-elect. So what do we tell them?
We tell them that sometimes adults get it wrong. Sometimes adults don’t know best. We tell them that we will be kind anyway. We will be brave anyway. We do not abide by bullies. We tell them that the future of our society does not depend on what happens in the White House. It depends on what happens in our house. And respect will continue to reign in mine.
What you need:
Your favorite fully cooked sausage links (we used turkey kielbasa)
- Crescent roll dough
- Small sugar eyeballs
- Pizza cutter
- Baking sheet
What you do:
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Unroll crescent dough and use pizza cutter to cut lengthwise into long strips. Wrap strips of dough irregularly around each of your sausages, starting at the top and making your way to the bottom, leaving a tiny bit of space in between at least one rotation so you can tuck the eyeballs in later. Each link may require more than one strip of dough. If so, squeeze the ends together to connect dough. Place mummies a few inches apart on a baking sheet in the oven for 12 minutes or until golden brown. Remove, let cool and tuck two sugar eyeballs in between an open area of dough before serving.
Find 7 other easy Halloween snack ideas at Austin Mom’s Blog.
Sometimes it’s time to suck it up and do the thing that makes you uncomfortable. For me, it was writing this guest post for author Catia Holm on the irony of parenthood and drawing courage from unexpected places. Here’s a snippet:
For crying out loud
True confession: I hate loud noises.
I hate loud noises and I have twin stepsons. Naturally, loud is part of the package. “Loud” is in their bones. “Loud” is the very definition of who they are when they’re together. But the truth is that I seriously loathe loud. God’s honest truth is that anxiety shoots right up my spine at the first sounds of those inevitable screams between young brothers running through the house.
This so-called “noise sensitivity” is part of who I am as an adult child of an alcoholic, or an ACOA, as we call ‘em. Yeah, there’s an acronym for that. When unpredictable commotion is a regular part of your environment growing up, it can create a visceral reaction in pretty normal situations as an adult. So now I’m the grown-up. And my kids are the ones, well, being kids.
So I close my eyes when the disorder takes over. I take deep breaths. I talk myself down from that loud ledge of uneasiness when the twin tornado comes roaring through the living room. When the television is deafening. When it sounds like a herd of elephants are tap dancing upstairs. Sometimes it works. But sometimes it doesn’t.
The back patio provides some relief, although I can often hear the sibling rivalry from out there. And that’s when I ask myself, “Is it them? Or is it me?” It doesn’t take long to decide it’s me. I’m the adult after all. Or at least I’m supposed to be.
And then I pray for Patience to show herself. Thankfully, Wisdom is usually nearby to tap my shoulder with a gentle reminder that although our childhood experiences influence the present, they don’t have to dictate our reactions.
On one particular occasion, I sat on that patio in a panic of self-doubt, feeling angry and unfit to parent.
Read the rest of this post (including the cringe-worthy text message that slapped me with a dose of reality) at CatiaHolm.com.
Mr. Wonderful and I took The Little Boys Club on a cub scout campout recently (the second time in 18 months that we’ve spent the night in the woods with 30 little boys) so we know what “the essentials” mean to us: Food. Shelter. Water. Airbed. Body pillow. (Am I the only one who expects to get a good night’s sleep in a tent?) But here’s the reality: When it comes to camping with kids, you’re gonna need some specific items. For example, well-named snacks. Snacks are serious business.
The trick is to put the munchies in a gallon-sized Ziplock bag and call them “extra special camping fun treats” or something with lots of adjectives. This works well for road trips, too. I fill bags with fruit, crackers, applesauce, popcorn, gum and leftover candy from the most recent holiday if I’m feeling extra generous with the sugar. These “super cool snack packs” will fill in the gaps between meals and incite your children’s love for comparison as they argue over who got the better gum flavor.
Read nine other weird essentials for camping with kids over at Austin Mom’s Blog.
Does this pic make me look qualified to write about motherhood?
Earlier this year, a friend emailed me with a link to an open call for writers and a note:
“Thought of you. I think they could use a different mom and family perspective.”
The link took me to Austin Moms Blog. Say whaaaaaaat?
A mommy blogger? I smirked. I was skeptical to say the least. Mostly because as a stepmama, I struggle on the daily with feeling like a legit parent. Even though I’ve watched our twins grow from preschoolers to nearly third-graders, it’s still hard to believe I’m in charge of little people sometimes.
And then, when it sunk in that this friend actually thought of ME when she saw “mother” and “writer” in the same sentence, I was kind of flattered. As a bonus mama, it’s easy to feel vastly underqualified to raise not one, but two small humans you didn’t birth yourself. But then again, what makes one qualified, really? Compassion. Patience. A sense of humor. Intense adoration for their father. Not a bad place to start, eh?
After all, many women are made mothers by children who were borne not from their wombs, but from their hearts.
The more I thought about my friend’s suggestion, the more I felt confident that I could offer at least some skeptical stepmoms or frustrated bio moms a positive perspective on blended families.
So I waited two weeks. And then I gave myself a pep talk and I applied. I submitted writing samples like this one. And this one. And then two weeks later, I thought the blog’s co-founder had the wrong number when she called and asked to speak to me.
Friends, I’m totally honored (and intimidated) to have been chosen to share my adventures in parenthood with other mothers. And it doesn’t matter how you became one – because what I’ve come to understand is that we’re all just learning as we go.
So now you can find me at Austin Moms Blog! Weeeeeeeird. Will you humor me and read along?