The Top Ten Reasons I Will Never Be Mom of the Year

10. Last week my daughter got out of the car on the coldest morning of the year wearing a hat, gloves, and scarf - but no coat over her short sleeve dress. Me? I didn't notice until we arrived at school, at which point I mumbled something about, "maybe tomorrow will go better." John said I get partial points for at least making sure both kids were in the car before I left the driveway.

9. My getting up and actually cooking a breakfast for the entire family is an event so noteworthy that my kids talk about it in reverent tones of, "hey, remember that time Mommy made pancakes, and it wasn't even Christmas?"

8. My daughter's explorer/safari costume for her last school play consisted of a straw pith helmet with her sister's name on it and a t-shirt with the word "Explorer" written on the front in permanent marker.

7. I know the phone number for poison control by heart - not because I am well prepared, but because I had to use it so often when my youngest daughter was smaller. The operators there knew me by name. Craft paint, an undefined amount of Benadryl, and dried up oleander leaves were only a small part of our family fun that year.

6. My oldest daughter once got Modge-Podge on the cat, the carpet and her sister's hair - while I was IN the room. I still am mystified how that happened. (For those who are unfamiliar with Modge-Podge, it is a non-toxic glue used for decoupage that is easily wiped up while wet and impossible to remove when dry and water-proof to boot. The cat, the carpet and the kid all got a trim that night.)

5. I hate Barney...with a passion. I not only would never take my children to see Barney Live in Concert, but I once convinced them our TV did not get the channel with Barney on it.

4. I taught my children to read so I could stop reading the picture books I don't like. Oh, I still read to them, but I avoid certain books like they were a plate of green eggs and ham.

3. I will never learn to be gracious about cleaning up vomit. Yes, yes, I know it's not their fault, and I have all the sympathy in the world for them. That having been said, I still can't keep myself from saying, "couldn't you just have made it another five feet, to at LEAST get off the carpet????"

2. Before they could tell time, I lied about what time it was on more than one occasion to get them in bed a few minutes early. I figured 15 minutes wouldn't hurt, and maybe I'd get to watch CSI afterall that week.

1. I have hidden batteries in my home so that there is no possible way to get those electronic drums, remote control car, or portable karaoke machine working "right now." God love my organized husband who keeps all the batteries in a neatly labeled rack - the kids never think to look anywhere else.

OK...so all of that being said and done and yes, of course I am laughing at myself, I don't think of myself as a bad parent. It's just that the ideas I had when my kids were really little about what it took to be a good parent don't seem to fit with my ideas about parenting anymore. I like to think that maybe I've matured, but sometimes it feels more like settling. I don't buy into the idea of quality time at all, instead we go for quantity time. Some days that means I feel like we've been joined at the hip and for God's sake, would they PLEASE settle down and find something to do. But it also means that we aren't just together, but that we talk, that we work together to get stuff done at home. That I listen to their opinions and occasionally take them into consideration.

So, I'll take the time to add:

The Top Ten Reasons I'm a Good Enough Mom

10. I have attended a sea monkey funeral in the rain. I don't think I need to elaborate on that.

9. I have, on more than one occasion, gotten up in the middle of the night to put a sliding closet door back on track because the closet monsters are escaping.

8. I have made costumes the night before they're needed, stayed up baking cupcakes for class parties when I'd really rather be sleeping, and have been to every store in town to find that one perfect thing to complete a project.

7. I know which Wiggle is the purple one (Jeff), the names of the cast of High School Musical, who won the Piston cup in the movie Cars, where to buy the best ice cream, who fell down and got hurt in PE last week, and why the 2nd grade teachers are mean. In short, I know all the important stuff.

6. I have given up theatre tickets, nights out with friends, personal days from work - meant to be used for errands I never seem to achieve, and countless other small luxuries at a moment's notice simply because they have needed me.

5. I have read A Bad Case of Stripes more times than I can count. And I have sighed, picked it up, and read it again from cover to cover.

4. I have allowed my children to make mistakes. I have let them live through the consequences, and have allowed their dignity to remain intact through all of it, as best I can. I have been a good example when I can - persisting long after I want to give up, because I know their eyes are watching.

3. I have told my children "no." I have said no when it is not the easy way out, when all the other moms are saying yes, and I have said no in the face of gale-force temper tantrums. And I have meant it.

2. I have listened to my children. Not just to the sounds of their voices, but to the words they have to say. I have listened to what is spoken and the words that remain unspoken.

1. My children know without a doubt that I love them. Though they may dread consequences, they never fear me or what I may do to them. They get mad at me, and I get mad at them. But they never go to sleep afraid that I don't love them anymore. They are secure in the fact that they will always be loved and cared for, no matter how many times I may yell or how many weeks they might be grounded for.

So far, I think I'm doing my job OK.

All. I Ever Needed to Know...

I have recently had the humbling experience of discovering that I am not smart enough to teach today's kindergarten kids. I was asked to come in as a guest reader in my youngest daughter's classroom a few days ago, and looked forward to visiting with my daughter's friends and taking a small break from my own classroom.

Many of these children I have known since they were toddlers, having grown up in the same school where I teach, so I was already aware of how bright these kiddos really are. But I just wasn't prepared for the incredible amount of knowledge they have already acquired in just a few short years of life. In introduction of a book about numbers, I asked the children what was the highest number they could think of. No less than four children responded, "a googol." I was completely dumbfounded - I hadn't heard of that until I was in my thirties. When queried as to whether or not there were any numbers bigger than a googol, I received answers of "a googol-plex" and "infinity, of course." To add insult to injury, it was pointed out that I misread a word in the book (which I was currently holding facing the kids, and thus not able to see clearly).

I know that I was a bright kindergartener for the time when I was raised - I was reading and writing before I came to school. But simply the amount of stuff these children know is amazing to me. I have to wonder - is it the technology they are surrounded by constantly, or is it a trickle-down effect with each generation being educated earlier? I wish I had an answer....but too, I wonder if there is a trade-off for these kids. While they're accumulating knowledge and leanring how to put it to use, are they losing valuable playground time where they could be honing some of the skills that they can really use later in life? When my daughter grows up, will she be a part of a generation that has difficulty problem solving and negotiating with others, and will their social skills suffer, because they haven't had enough time just being kids and learning how to function with one another?

My fondest memories of kindergarten are all of play-based moments - playing superheroes on the playground, dressing up in the classroom, story time with our teacher, and making my mom a clay ashtray (it WAS the 70's). What will my daughter remember when she is 30 years old?