The Art of Squelching Childhood Dreams or Why We're Now Members of the Royal Dutch Riding Association

So on Saturday I took Mia to her first horseback riding lesson, and I can honestly say that I never thought I would be typing those words in a non-fictional setting. But desperate times call for dressage classes, as I like to say now.


You see, there's a war being waged at our house, and this equine development is just the latest counter-defensive strategic use of special force I've employed ever since I became an enemy to my children's happiness.


It wasn't always like this. I used to be interested in making my kids happy. In fact,  I once even went so far as to read an article online about the 3 Essential Ingredients of a Happy Childhood, or something to that effect, but was interrupted by my kids who were apparently unaware that one of the essential ingredients for a happy mother is to never interrupt her when she's wasting time on the internet.


It went something like this: 


(Me: reading)


"Mom! Look at me doing this thing 50 times in a row!" 


"Oh really?"


"Mom! When can we go to Disneyland?"


"Uh huh. That's great."


"Mom! Can I get a Twitter account? Jazlyn has one!" 


"Leave me alone! Can't you see I'm reading about how to make you happy?! And seriously, Jazlyn? That is a ridiculous name."  


And that was the end of that. But in case you're interested, I do remember the author's cute summation of the three vitally important, bare minimum requirements to prevent your child from becoming an ax murderer, or a reality TV star. They are: Time (unstructured play), Mud (outdoors), and Livestock (pets).  From what little I read, you should put your children in a barn and check on them in about 18 years. They'll be just fine!


But according to my kids, the author is at least 1/3 correct, and this is the part where the happiness war comes in.


It seems my children are convinced that having a pet is essential to their happiness, well-being, and ability to play nicely and do their chores without being nagged. But I'm convinced that not having a pet is essential to my happiness, well-being, and ability to not nag kids to do things like help care for their pet. Not to mention that the 2nd essential ingredient for a happy mother is not having to clean up any more poop than is absolutely necessary.


I admit that my stance doesn't make much sense, considering that I come from a family that picked up neighborhood strays, and indulged every childhood whim for a dog, cat, hamster, rat, bird, or bearded dragon (we had all of those). For Christmas the year before last, my sister compiled a list of all our former family pets and their cause of demise (because these are the kinds of gifts one gives in my family), and there was a alarmingly high incidence of poisonings, strangulations, and deaths by rolling down the stairs in a lunchbox. So perhaps I've seen too many animals die in my lifetime, or maybe I just got that need out of my system at an early age. It could be that I'm intimidated by the process of getting a pet in another country. But I'm pretty sure it's just a poop thing.


So when I get the "can we go the pet store today?" or "when can I get a guinea-pig?" questions, and it's my happiness vs theirs, the battle is on. Insert your favorite war metaphor here, because I certainly don't know any. All I know is, crushing your child's happiness takes a remarkable amount of concentration and skill. It's kind of an art form. It's much harder than going out and just buying them a guinea-pig, let me assure you.


It's important to reply in such a way that they don't actually realize you are saying no.


When we lived in the States, I would say, "What are you talking about? We already have pets! Remember the Ferrel cats that live under the deck? Just be careful, they could give you a disease."


This one works well, "I trapped a spider under a cup yesterday. Why don't you go see if it's still alive."


Avoidance is one of the best tactics: "This is not an appropriate time to talk about this. Now can you please shut the bathroom door?" (3rd essential ingredient to a happy mother? Peeing in privacy.)


Or, taking a cue from Jack Handy, "Oh honey, guess what? I went to the pet store today, and it had burned down and all the animals were dead. Bummer. Hey, I know, let's take riding lessons instead."


Which leads me to my current tactic: stalling. I admit, I'm in dangerous, last-resort territory. When I found out that there was a stable in the middle of Amsterdam that offered riding lessons, I didn't think I would ever try to use that information as an empty peace-offering in an emotional high-stakes battle with my kids. It took a while to realize it could actually be a weapon in my arsenal for dream squelching. But when I did, Mia played right into my hands. So much so that I'm pretty sure now she  wants a pony instead.


I think my next move will be to actually put my kids in a barn for the next 18 years. I should check with the stable; maybe they offer that service.


All that to explain these pictures.

Oh my, what have I gotten myself into?


Stay tuned, soon we'll be signing Sam up for sailing lessons, and joining the Amsterdam High Society club, all to avoid getting a Wii. Anything to keep my kids happily unhappy.

List #3: Snapshots of the Uninspiring Variety

I was overtaken with an inexplicable need to capture the very mundane details of my life one day recently. And could I withhold such mundanity from the world? No I could not. Here's a little photographic tour of our apartment one day last week.

1. Nate eats at least 300 pretzels a day. Correction: Nate eats the salt off of at least
300 pretzels a day. That kid's blood pressure has got to be through the roof. 

2. Discarded snow gear. At this point the snow
 had been melted for 4, maybe 5 days. 

3. The laundry room master bedroom in it's natural state.
P.S. I love those windows.

4. Paperwork: my nemesis, especially when most of it is in Dutch.

6. Nate's ability to desalinize an entire bag of pretzelsin less than an hour is
matched only by his ability to trash a room in the same amount of time.

7. I walked past this vase one day and noticed someone had
dropped this little duck in it. He looks happy, I think.

8. Special delivery: The Feelings Book for Girls. Yep.

More things I don't have pictures of, but are mundane.

9.  It turns out I'm disabled.  One day I was reading a little funny blurb that mentioned Delayed Sleep Phase Syndrome, and my first thought was ha ha, if I was going to make a politically correct joke about my insomnia that's exactly what I would call it. But suddenly I thought ohhhhhh, I bet that's actually a thing, and I have it.  Sure enough, thanks to Google and WebMD, I can start applying for a handicap placard for my bike. Yessssss.

10. I've finally picked a New Year's Resolution (what can I say, procrastinating is kind of my thing). There is a piano in the lobby of the Central library in Amsterdam, with a sign inviting anyone with a fair amount of skill to tickle its ivories (interestingly, libraries are different here in one major way, in that you are not expected to be quiet). My goal is to work up the nerve to go play on that piano some time this year, and hope they don't enforce the skill thing too strictly. So, should I play Chopsticks or Heart and Soul? 

11. This is not so much mundane, as kind of creepy: I had a dream that a gay, wealthy, old man with a highly contagious skin disease (Maurice Sendak? warning: link not suitable for kids) threw a party to find a trophy wife to inherit all his money. All the hot girls said no. I said yes, and immediately contracted leprosy. But it was worth it to be able to put my kids through college, and to buy that island to live on for the rest of my quarantined, filthy rich life. So the answer to whether I would consider marrying entirely for money? Sub-conscious Me says yes. No judging; Maurice and I had a deep intellectual connection. 

12. In another post, I mentioned Sam being sick and my hope that no one else followed suite. No such luck. Nate started throwing up within a few hours. Funny, the 3 year old managed to make it in the bowl every time, but the 6 year old? I think he threw up everywhere but the bowl, every time. Thanks Sam. 

That's it for the Bardsleyland edition of the February Blahs.  How about you? 

List #2: Seen in Amsterdam

Things I saw in Amsterdam this week:

• 2 tourists rolling joints in a park. After 7 months, it was about time.
• A smart mother checking her kid's shoes before going inside. If Amsterdam should be famous for anything, it's dog poop. It's true what they say: the Dutch are very tolerant. Of poop all over the place. And I will never understand this particular idiosyncrasy. 
• My clock at midnight which read 0:00. Still getting used to military time.
• My new favorite sandwich (seen and eaten): a warm roll or ciabatta with goat cheese, honey, toasted pecans, and roasted pear. Oh my. 
• About a billion gloves littering the streets. People of Amsterdam: if you're missing a glove, go walk outside. You'll find another one, or 20. Just watch out for the dog poop. 

List #1: Things to Do

1. Find a doctor and dentist in Amsterdam. Done. Time to complete: 7 months. 
2. Write a blog post. In progress. (Congratulate yourself for multi-tasking.)
3. Work through pile of laundry backing up after Sam's bout with a stomach virus this week. 
4. Pray to the vacation gods that no one else gets sick on our trip to Paris next week. 
5. Plan our trip to Paris next week. 
6. Put away pile of movies from Sam's sick days. 
7. Ask other people if they still cry every single time they see the opening musical montage in UP. If not, try not to feel like a loser. 
8. If you still feel like a loser, watch the opening scene of Finding Nemo. Have another good cry. 
9. Thank the movie gods for Pixar. 
10. Now, have a good long stare at that book on your desk. You know the one... The one about having The Big Talk with your 9 year old. Stare at it some more. Now, pick it up.
11. Practice saying things like "beautiful secret" and "special kind of hug" without giggling. 
12. Seriously, practice some more because you can't even type that without giggling. 
13. This is getting to be a long list. Make another list of everything you can put off until later. 
14. Great! You've got some time on your hands now.
15. Don't think about things like complicated expat taxes, or French people who are mean to obnoxious American tourists. 
16. Instead think about organizing that one closet, or unpacking that last box of picture frames you thought you couldn't possibly live without. 
17. Now, see #13. 
18. Check Facebook and Pinterest. If it's on your list, it's not wasting time. 
19. Try not to feel silly when you "like" someones status or pin. 
20. And, yes, that was actually a huge waste of time. 
21. Curse the Internet. Use lots of pseudo-swears. 
22. Speaking of swearing, learn some French swears. That could help with #15.
23. Try to find a picture to go with this blog post. 
24. Here's one:
25. Include a link for Yarn Bombing.
26. Try not to waste time on Wikipedia. 
27. Fail.
28. More pseudo-swears.
29. Twenty nine things? Think about how busy you are.  No wonder it took you 7 months to make a dentist appointment. Reassure yourself that it has nothing to do with being a loser who still cries at Pixar movies. 
30. See #8.

So Winter Came and Went

I'm about to break my own blogging rule, and talk about the weather. And I'm going to post pictures of said weather. And then we're all going to politely pretend like it's the most fascinating thing we've ever talked about, like we do with every grocery checker we talk to. OK?

Nate and I went for a walk this morning in the snow, but by this afternoon, it was almost entirely melted. It's amazing how warm 36 degrees (2 degrees Celsius) can feel after 2 weeks of sub-freezing temperatures. We almost went out in sandals.

We now know that there are two items that every person in the Netherlands owns: a bike, and a pair of ice skates.  When it freezes here, all those canals turn into skating rinks, and suddenly everyone is a figure skater. Biking in the snow is not so fun, but walking on the canals is actually a blast. Plus it was all we could do, dumb foreigners that we are who didn't bring our ice skates that we don't own (this is inconceivable to the Dutch). 

In front of that tree is a pond, and those are the ice skaters. Notice the bike. I love this place.

The freeze wasn't quite deep enough for the Elfstedentocht to take place, but for a few days the entire country was taken over by ice fever. The 11 city, 120 mile race hasn't happened since 1997, but if the ice ever gets 15 cm thick across the entire course, the race takes place within 48 hours. That is some crazy Dutch speed-skating love for you. According to some reports, it was even supposed to fix the EU crisis. Now that would have been one incredible race. 

This Week in Super Gross

 

 This post brought to you by The Garbage Pail Kids

and You Can't Do That On Television.

At 3:30, I finally drifted off to sleep. So yeah, insomnia and I are still pretty tight, (but I swear I'm this close to unfriending him on Facebook*).

At 6:30, Sam was screaming in the bathroom. Think of that music from the movie Psycho, but coming out of a 6 year old boy's mouth.

At 6:30.02, I was running to the bathroom door to fling it open, while my mind was speeding through the worst case scenarios:

There was someone in the bathroom with him. An ax murderer presumably.

He had somehow managed to summon Bloody Mary in the mirror, unlike all 10 year olds at every slumber party ever, no matter what they say.

Someone had squeezed the Charmin.


As it turned out, Sam had shut himself in the bathroom with a tiny mouse. The kid was traumatized, all whimpering and trembly. So of course  I said the most comforting words I could think of:

"Sam, did it come out of the toilet?"

You know, because of that one time I read about a rat coming up through someones toilet, and it was seared in the part of my brain dedicated to recalling horrifying possibilities at the exact wrong moment.

Thankfully, it wasn't a toilet mouse, but I certainly hadn't eased Sam's fears any, and by 6:35, the whole family was in our bed, wide awake. I don't know what happened to the mouse.

At 7:30, everyone was up again for school. Yay.

By 9:30, Nate and I had a falling out over some cereal, and we reconciled by crawling back into bed for a nap.

At 9:32, Nate breathed in my face, and I almost died. Ever since he was sick a few weeks ago, his breath has been toxic. It smells like a dog threw up, ate its own vomit, and then crawled into his mouth and died, right after ripping a big dog fart.

If only I could bottle some of that, I'm pretty sure I could kill that mouse.

Done anything gross lately?



*I don't know why Insomnia is a male, he just is.

Ye Olde Epic England Recap

Tower of London.

So we went to England. Had a blast. Said things like rubbish, and collywobbles, and pardon me, which way to the Ministry of Magic? And when people spoke to us we stared at them and said (loud and slow), "Sorry, we only speak English." We ate the fish and the chips. Dropped in on the Queen. Did the double-decker. Captured some castles. Wore our "Operation Revolutionary War: Mission Accomplished" t-shirts. The Brits LOVED us.

My brother John moved with his family to England about a year and a half ago, so our first stop was to spend Christmas with them in Coventry (coincidence: my family lived on Coventry court for over 30 years). John and Dakin were excellent hosts in that our daily quota for chocolate and delicious food was continually fulfilled, and then some. We all went down to London together, and enjoyed trying to keep 6 kids and 4 adults together throughout the City. With 5 potty-trained kids, we spent less time looking at tourist attractions than we did looking for a loo, which we always have fond memories of. We celebrated New Year's in London, and by celebrated I mean that we ate mediocre food in our hotel restaurant and then sat in our dark hotel room while the kids slept and we checked Facebook on our phones. And then we came home, but not before cramming in one last historic site just to ruin Mia's life.

Thanks to digital photography, we came home with no less than 6 million pictures. So be warned, there are a lot of photos following, and it's not even the half of it (plus, the formatting is all weird with the captions, sorry). There's a very good chance you will get bored, even if you happen to be my parents. But that's not to say it wasn't jolly brilliant (that's British for super fun, I think). 

We played the "how many people can we fit in a Volvo" game, and the answer is 10.  

Our favorite vacation past time: standing around looking bored in an amazing location. 1,000 year old castle ruins? Is that all? 

But really, one of these kids was not happy to be at an old castle. Hint: it's Mia.

Guess who also wasn't happy to have her picture taken at a castle? 

True story: we saw signs for a duck race and thought it would be fun to watch.  It seemed oddly quiet, and when the ducks came into view we found out why. Yes, it was actually a rubber duck race. Such tomfoolery! 

Nate and Elizabeth. I love their expressions. You looking at me? 

The view from Warwick Castle. Seriously, there are a lot of castles in the UK.

We talked Mia into going to the castle just for the Sword in the Stone exhibit, and then it was closed that day. I would say something derogatory about Fate here, but you know what they say about Karma. 

But for someone who hates castles, she loves old castle toilets.

You can't go to England without getting a picture in the old pillory. Ha ha, traitors! 

Releasing some castle angst.

All 10 of us took a train to London. It was just like going to Hogwarts. 

A rare moment where no one had to go potty.

Sam was super excited about Big Ben.

Riding the London Tube at rush hour. That's Mia and Nate at the bottom of a pile of commuters. 

Yes, we rode the bus.

Buckingham Palace.
Look closely at Nate. He is starting to come down with a fever. He pretty much slept in that stroller for the rest of the trip. Unexpected bonus: the 3 year old was our best behaved child on the trip.

Me: Hey kids, this is where the Queen of England lives.
Sam: You mean this is her house?
Me: Yep.
Sam: Good, because I have to go potty.

Another awesome looking-bored photo in front of something cool.  Oh, is that the Tower of London? Yawn.

This is what I look like while saying the word "schedule" sarcastically, in case you were wondering.  

We occupied Occupy London.

I got busted after taking this picture in St. Paul's, but they can't stop me from putting it on my blog. 

Climbing to the top of the dome. 

View from the top.

Harry Potter Tour (yes, we did). 

Diagon Alley, except not really. 

I love that Kings Cross Station did this. 

Countdown until London becomes even more crowded. Have fun with that London! 

Speaking of the Olympics, we were staying just a kilometer away from the 2012 Olympic site.  If my brother had been there, he would have googled something on his iPhone and found out what that red thing is, but being us, we just stood there and went "uh, der." 

My old college roommate, Farhana, who lives in London because she's cool like that.

New Year's Eve on the Big Red Bus. We seriously know how to party.

Nate sleeping at dinner one night. Is it bad that I kind of like it when my kids get low grade fevers? 

Dorks!

Hey kids, look at that old thing! Amazing, right Mia? 

Sam however, actually enjoyed most everything and begged me take pictures of him, like this one. 

And Nate kept begging to go home, and when we finally got there, this is what he did. 

Blimey, are you still here?