Guest Mom

Sharon Ulery Ruggieri of Moms Madhouse is one of the Funniest Mom bloggers out there. I have the priveledge of re printing a blog from her site here. This is my favorite of her blogs so far. If you fall in love with her blog as I have please go visit her site and follow her by clicking here.here Please ENJOY!

Shut Up! Mom Can’t Find Herself.

That's right. I've taken a page from my kids book and I've decided it's time for me to fight the establishment. I even considered burning my bra in the back yard, but I was afraid a neighbor might call the fire department. So instead I'm making signs that say, "Save a Tree, use Plastic," "Screw Green & Go Gold Pony Boy," and, "I'll stop wearing my furs if you'll stop being naked."
What does this have to do with finding myself? I have no idea. All I do know is that whenever my kids decide it's time to take a stand against my policies, they throw out some mantra they've heard on Family Guy or South Park. And BTW....I don't remember letting them watch these shows. I need to re-read my manual on the parent controls for my Cox remote.
Anyway, whenever I need my kids for something I can usually find them in their bedrooms with the door locked. Even the 5 year old has become hostile about no entry without permission. Now I don't know who these kids think they are locking me out of a room in my house, but whatever. I can respect the privacy. But I end up either having to knock 29 times to get an answer, or I have to yell so loud my neighbors start yelling back to shut up!
I've inquired with my children why they always feel they need to lock the door. It's not like I have plans to just barge in. I'll knock no matter what. I don't want to see them naked anymore than they want mom to SEE them in the buff. But the replies I've received have ranged from, "I need me time mom. I'm just trying to figure out who I am and what I want out of life," to "I need alone time. It's crazy around here and all you do is yell." "No sh*t!" I reply, "I'm trying to get you out of room!"
Last night the teenager and tween-ager told me it's important for them to be alone so they can determine more on their own without my input. For instance, do they believe that saving the whales are really worth not eating any more tuna? Should a woman really get paid as much as a man on a construction site since she can't pee behind a wall standing up? And did Bob Barker really spend a lot of one on one time with his beauties? Uh....I guess someone's been watching re-runs of old game shows.
I reminded them that their alone time only comes after I say the chores are done for the day and I no longer require their assistance. They just shook their heads at me as if to say, "Silly woman. We can't time our moments to suit you." Oh yes, you can.
So I decided I'm going to play too. I toddled off to my room by 10am this morning, closed the door and started painting my signs of revolution. Within 5 minutes the first knock came. So I ignored it. Then came the 2nd knock, and that was also ignored. When the 3rd knock happened I began to chant loudly, "Ooo-mmmm, Ooo-mmmmm." This is when the whispering began. One child whispered, "Is she crazy?" "No," whispered back the eldest, "Just be quiet. She's trying to make a point." That's one smart kid there.
Another 5 minutes went by when I heard the 5 year old say, "Do you think it's safe yet?" And the 12 year old said, "I dunno....try it again." Then came the light tapping from the 4 year old. I knew it was the 4 year old because she's the only girl in the house and she said, "How many times should I knock?" I guess the boys thought I might be more receptive to their sister.
When that didn't work one of the kids pushed my cell phone under the crack of my bedroom door. I just stared at it wondering what they were up to. A minute later I got a text that said, "The Jehovah's Witnesses are at the door. They won't leave until they see an adult to put sister's clothes back on. She was chasing the dog down the street naked. Oh and can I borrow $10.00?"
I texted my reply and said, "Tell the Jevohah's Witnesses that's not my daughter and I'm busy praying the Praying to Kevin, the dark master of vanity. And if you want $10.00 you wait until your father gets home, or break into Jenny's house across the street. She keeps her mad money in the lunch bag in her freezer behind the otter pops. Don't ask...."

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The Father the Son and the Butterfly

Our Children… Are A Lot Like Butterflies… 

Have you heard the story about the caterpillar… or is it the story about the butterfly… or is it the story about the cocoon. I'm not really sure which one it is. I'm sure you're even more lost right now than I am. That's ok, it'll all tie together at the end. 

So, important one here… this story. This is not MY story, but one I've been told many times over… some of the best parenting advice I could offer... 

Ok… so… THE BUTTERFLY…

Once upon a time there was a caterpillar. It was a plain ol' caterpillar, but a caterpillar nonetheless. The caterpillar lived in a forest nearby a mans home. Every morning the man and his son would walk past the caterpillar and stare in wonder at the legs as they moved, watch it eat, and simply stand mesmerized for a few moments every morning on their morning walk. 

One morning, they came by the caterpillars branch to find that the caterpillar was gone and in it's place was a cocoon. "Oh, the man told his son… this is so exciting. This ugly caterpillar, is inside the cocoon and will soon be a beautiful butterfly." They continued on their walk. 

They did this for many mornings in a row. Until one morning, they came across the cocoon to find it moving. They watched as the butterfly struggled to break through the cocoon wall. The son looked at his dad and said, "Dad. Help the butterfly out of the cocoon." 

The father looked at the boy and said, "Son, sometimes things struggle for a reason. There is a reason the butterfly is struggling to get out of the cocoon." The boy again expressed to his dad that he wanted to see the butterfly and didn't like seeing the butterfly struggle. 

After they were done with their walk, the boy asked his father. "Dad, if I was a butterfly, and I was stuck in a cocoon, would you cut me out of it?"

The father told the boy, "No son, I wouldn't. Because I love you. Sometimes struggle is necessary. I love you enough to allow you to struggle when you need to." 

The boy didn't quite understand. Being young and naive, and thinking he was helping the butterfly, the boy went himself and cut the cocoon open so the butterfly could get out easier. 

The next day, both father and son walked by the cocoon, and found the butterfly who was sitting there on the branch, with flimsy wings, unable to fly. 

The father realized by the way the boy was acting that the boy had come and cut the butterfly out of his cocoon after their morning walk. 

The father asked the son if he had helped the butterfly out of the cocoon. 

The boy smiled and said yes. 

The father asked the boy if he was at all curious as to why the butterfly's wings were so sad and flimsy. 

The boy looked at the butterfly, and at that moment he noticed it too. 

"What is wrong with the butterfly's wings, dad?"

The father looked down at the son and asked him if he remembered him telling him that sometimes struggle is necessary. 

The boy said yes. 

The father explained. When a butterfly is in a cocoon. It is held tight and must fight and struggle to break out of the cocoon to freedom. The reason for this is because as the butterfly fights and struggles, his wings become stronger and when the wings are strong enough to fly, they are also strong enough to break out of the cocoon. 

The butterfly that has been helped out of the cocoon will never fly, because his wings were never developed and they aren't strong enough to support him or fly with. 

The butterfly will remain on the branch until a predator comes and then, because it cannot fly away when threatened, it will most likely die. 

The boy understood at this point. 

Many years later, the boy, being older and finding himself in the middle of a very hard life lesson called his dad. When his dad asked him if he would like his help, the boy simply said, "No dad. I think I am a butterfly right now. I need this struggle." 

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I would write more. But I think this story pretty much says it all. 

I implore you to let your children struggle. They will need to fly away some day. 

With love… 

Franki 

Can't Help But Wonder... 

As a mother... these are words I find myself saying over and over.... "I can't help but wonder" .. as I talk to my friends, my peers and the women that I have emulated. "I can't help but wonder"... is there something I'm not doing right? Did I give them enough love? Did I hug them enough? Did I give them the right vitamins? Was I too hard on them? Was I too easy on them? Ugh... the list can go ON AND ON AND ON... 

Then the day comes... the day we all dread - the day they "grow up". Now this doesn't have to be a 'fully grow up thing'... this can mean any part of growing up... 

Whether it's taking the bottle away, leaving them with a sitter for the first time, sending them off to day care, sending them off to swim lessons, sending them off to kindergarten, first grade, middle school, to hang out their friends, high school, first day of work, driving permits, the big '18'. (sigh)... Every one of these and so many others spark brand new "I can't help but wonders" in a mothers mind... the job of a mother has a billion "how to books" and articles (including this one... haha) all stating different opinions, some from what they've learned through education and some from what they've learned from experience. I get nauseous trying to follow all of the do's and don'ts they offer. Too much this, too little that. In the 70's, the 80's and the 90's the do's and don'ts changed significantly from what my mother was told to do and what they decided was good for the kids when I became a mom at 20. 

When I was a kid... we got spanked, by mom, by dad, by the principle... spanked. Then as I grew up and had kids of my own, they said we shouldn't spank... time outs only. Spare the rod spoil the child... I heard that constantly as a kid growing up... "Spare the rod spoil the child"... God forbid we spoil the child by sparing the rod... yet, the rod has significantly changed forms over the years.  

I think what I've found to work is consistency. Maybe the rod they are actually speaking of is consistency? Something that is firm and reliable. Letting our little mini-me's learn what to trust. Giving them firm ground rules to live by and then allowing them to grow into their own. I have often said I feel like I am the bumper pads... you know, like bowling. My children are the bowling balls tearing down the alley hoping for a strike, I am the bumper pads as well as the bowler. It's what happens after it goes into that little area where they separate the pins from the ball that I worry about. Yes, I really said that. 

Anyway, as I said earlier, I can't help but wonder each time my children enter a new phase of their lives whether or not I have done my job as a mother. I've given them rules, taught them right from wrong, and I can only hope as they move towards independence, that I have done my job. 

I will say this, it never has felt like I've done it right EVERY TIME. I've always worried about what I may have missed. One thing is certain, I have ALWAYS DONE MY BEST. Some days my best is REALLY GOOD - you know, like a baseball player, I have ALWAYS tried to hit the ball out of the park, but some days it's HOME RUN.... and other days, I feel like I have struck out. Always a learning lesson... always adjusting to do better next time. But always, always doing my best that day. 

I can't help but wonder, is there anyone who is a perfect mother? If so... can I have your autograph? 

Little Miss Franki Doll

Franki Doll & The Broken Toys

www.myspace.com/frankidoll

Franki Doll And The Broken Toys Fansite

"There is nothing enlightened about shrinking,

so that others will feel comfortable around you!"

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Hey all. My name is Franki Doll. I am, for lack of a better term, what you would call an Alt-mom, Punk Rock Mommy... however you'd like to say it, I'm simply just not "cut from the same cloth" as your average mom. Which means almost nothing on the inside, but may look incredibly different from the outside.

I have 2 girls, who have - since birth - been brought up dancing to a different drum. No 'soccer practice' to speak of (although once we did try cheerleading) but instead, our outings included amazing things like, concerts, band practices and things of this nature. While other mommy's were busy watching tv, we were busy with our "music decade" games, or teaching them how to properly find harmonies to the vocal lines I would throw out. I know, you're probably asking yourselves what am I talking about. Let me explain.

Every week, we would pick a "type of music" and a "time period", for example - the time period would be "mid 80's" and the "type of music would be "new wave"... and the band would be "Duran Duran or The Cure". We would listen to the band, talk about their songs, and learn their music. The girls LOVED the game, and to be honest, I got to get in some of my favorite bands to their little ears and do a sing along. 

I probably should say that I am a musician as was my dad, and my mom and my grandmother - so on and so forth. Music has always been my life and one of the most important things I felt I could ever give my daughters. Besides good manners and "memory's". I'm big on memories. More on that later. 

Anyway, I love that I get to share some of my favorite moments in mine and my children's life up til the time I write them. You probably won't be finding much talk of mini vans, or burberry here- but as any other loving mother, you'll be finding the same determination and drive to bring my children up with love, patience, tolerance and guidance to help them to face life successfully and thrive. 

I look forward to writing, and sharing my exciting mommy moments with you all. 

Join The Army Of Moms today... <3