Social Media Phobia

Ok, I am going to be very honest with you. Social media confuses me. A lot.

I like to think I am a pretty clever gal, but this whole www thing causes me stress. Maybe its one of the reasons why my girls have zero technology relating to online interaction.  I am a control freak (shocker I know) and I fear that if they had Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn or Pinterest that I am simply not smart enough to monitor them or keep up.

There I said it. When the small people in my house read this I am for sure going to have to do the “I was wrong, you were right” dance and get out my jazz hands.

When I started this blog I sat at my computer and actually typed into Google “How do I start a blog?” I was directed to Wordpress and yup...after an hour of confusion I restarted with this Blogspot…it was way easier. For my readers who use Wordpress…please don’t laugh at me. Ok, you can a little bit. I was so proud of myself I decided to have a glass of wine that night to celebrate my online victory. Any excuse will do clearly. I am in the process of turning this blog into a website. Oh Lord help us all.

Another tidbit; it took me a week to realize that people could email me through the blog and I had no idea what the little button was on the top right hand corner indicating a number. I still have no clue what Google circles are, but I sure as hell will add you if you request it. I’m just not sure what it all does. Do me a favour will you? If you can explain any of this for me…message me. I know how the messagy thingy works now! Yeah me.

By far Twitter leaves me the most dumbfounded. I started a Twitter account when Quinn was 6. It was the cool thing to do. And I am super cool. I had like 5 people following me. Woot woot!! When I realized I really had nothing of interest to say in 140 characters or less (I am way to long winded for that) I decided I would dedicate the account to things my 6 year old says. I called it ‘Thoughts From a 6 year Old Brain’. You know like ‘Shit my Dad Say’s’….but more PG rated.  Don’t mock, it was a moment of pure genius to me.

I have been forced (not like gun to my head forced) but ‘strongly encouraged’ through this strike to master the Twitter thing. For the love of Pete, I noticed a person @ing me just today from like 4 weeks ago. Then there is the Twitter guilt I have. I see mentions/interaction/follows and I feel the need to thank them, mention back, re-tweet or follow. I yearn to be a good, polite Twitterer, I really do. I just can’t make any promises I can’t fulfill; it’s not in my nature.

I digress. As I was acquiring all this new found Twitter knowledge, I went back and re-read some of the stuff Quinn had said that I had tweeted just 4 short years ago. Where has the time gone that turned this quirky 6 year old into such a competent, caring, well rounded young lady? Pretty funny stuff still flies out of her mouth on a regular basis that allows me to spy on how her brain works, but as I re-read her words I had a really good laugh and wanted to share with youJ

Imagine her dimples as you read…they are super duper cute.

Thoughts from a 6 Year Old Brain

·      Dad, you need to do something about your hairy armpits! You could make a cat out of all that hair.

·      Dad, you could be a model…except you are not in shape and you are bald.

·      I’m gonna be a doctor when I grow up…or a shark trainer in the circus.

·      There’s this guy in my class. He’s a boy. He can burp his whole ABC’s…it’s cool.

·      Mom, your breath smells like farts.

·      Olivia, the goblin of death popped your balloon. It wasn’t me.

·      Dad, you nose looks like a bat cave, or your ears. Yup both.

·      Mom, I’ve been growing my feet lately, can you tell?

·      Mom, the growing fairy came last night. I am now an inch taller. Don’t worry, only my legs grew. Weird if my nose grew an inch eh?

·      (I found a note in her agenda thanking me for offering to make cookies for the class that morning) Quinn, did you sign me up to make cookies? Perhaps I did mommy, perhaps I did.

·      (After falling off her chair)Don’t worry mom. I’m ok, my bum broke my fall and it already has a crack in it.

·      Mom, that lady has the biggest boobers EVER. They are all hangy down. She needs a better bra I think.

·      Nana, do you know when you sorta die? Can I have your dog?

·      Mommy I saw Ukraines at the bird sanctuary today, and a nest of Magpipes.

·      Mom, these circles and bumps (cowlicks) in my hair are ruining my life!

The idea didn’t last very long and although I had/still have no idea what I am doing with most social media, I am very thankful that her words are frozen in Twitter cyberspace. I wish I could remember every little moment of each of their lives. There are times I wish I could freeze them in real time and not be so rushed…to simply enjoy the moment.

Feel free to add me on twitter @JAStilwell. I’m not very exciting, but I am trying and I will follow you back…if I can figure it out. I am proud to say that I have and understand Instagram. Don’t get to worked up, it’s just pictures of my dog.

But for now my phone just told me that Twitter has a notification for me.

I’m panicking.

xoxo

Miss Quinn...age 6

Creative Parenting 101

So lately people have been asking me for creative parenting ideas. For the life of me I can’t figure out why J

So here are some ‘non-traditional’ creative parenting techniques that I have used or my friends have shared with me. I hope you giggle but it may confirm that I actually have no idea what I’m doing. Meh…I’m sure having a hell of a good time trying to figure this parenting thing all out.

I also have homework for you! I am asking you to send me any strategies you, your parents or your friends have tried. Only creative ideas please, I already know how to orchestrate a perfect time-out and how to count to three. Shhhh….I actually have no idea what is suppose to happen when/if I get to ‘three’.

Share this with your friends!! Leave your innovative parenting wisdom in the comments, email me through the blog, post on my Facebook or tell me if you see me out and about. We can use a secret operation code if you have your kids with you. Just whisper in my ear ‘The trolls fly at midnight” and we will go from there.

I won’t tell you which ones worked and which ones were strictly for entertainment purposes, but I can promise you that I laughed…mostly at myself.

·      Ok, this one is not rocket science but I am an EXPERT at removing doors as a result of slamming. Doors are a privilege, not a right at my house. I can have those bad boys off their hinges in under a minute. Oooh…look at that; I just thought up a new Minute to Win It Game.

·      We have a ‘Friendship Tie’ at my house. When the sibling fighting just won’t end…I tie one arm of each offender to the others arm. Don’t stress, it’s not a rope or handcuffs; it’s a fuzzy bathrobe tie. Learn to work together ladies. Like a three-armed obstacle course if you will. Same idea applies with the ‘Let’s Get Along T-Shirt’. Just buy a large men’s t-shirt, they will both fit in it just perfectly. You can even bedazzle it if you want.

·      Growing up my mom made my sister and I bake a ‘co-operation’ cake together when we were fighting. I wish you could hear my inside voice even as I write that.  Like nails on a chalkboard. To this day Fruit Cocktail Cake makes me vomit…but we do get along, mostlyJ

·      Lying an issue? Tell them you are going on a special mommy date for ice cream. Get them really excited…hype that shit up!! Just as you are about to leave the house…tell them you are not going.

When they ask why....calmly tell them “I lied”.

·      When computer privileges have been lost and I am out of the house…I simply put the keyboard and/or mouse in my purse with me.  Way easier to transport than the desktop. It makes me smile that they can still see what privilege has been lost…but sadly can’t use it.

Yes, you may say naa naa naa naa boo boo here….quietly.

·      Messy room? You clearly have way too much stuff to organize.  Here, let mommy help you with that. Voila…a pillow, bed and blanket should be much easier to keep tidy.

·      There is one ticket out of grounding at our house…clean up the dog pooh. No shovels or buckets allowed. Baggies only. May I remind you I have a Great Dane. I am much, much stricter and hand out way more groundings in the spring when the snow melts. Like layers of grounding if you will. I have also had dogless friends bring over their kids. I provide the baggies…aren’t I niceJ

·      And of course may I suggest a Silent Strike. Although I’m pretty sure I have used up all my mileage on that one.

I have more...but I can’t give it all away can I?

Your turn!! What have you done as a parent when the expert advice just didn’t work out?

Xoxo

J

Please be aware that I am not liable for anything you try blah blah blah. I think I need to say something about not endorsing any specific idea and I cannot guarantee any results. Ooh, and if you choose to apply any methods you are using them at your own risk. That’s should cover my ass rightJ Oh yeah, I should probably mention that by sharing your ideas with me you are giving me permission to use/print them. Well doesn’t that sound all legally and grown up?? Don’t worry; I’ll give ya all a shout out.

Daddy's Little Girls

Dylan is one of three boys in his family of origin. He knows boys and brothers. That is all. When we found out we were pregnant he wanted boys…it’s what he knew. Well, karma is a bitch eh? Three daughters later he is still alive. Completely bald, but alive.

Sometimes I feel bad for him. More often than not I just laugh at him while I help him navigate the waters of the Estrogen Ocean. When they were little it was easy. All three are daddy’s girls but now as we approach the teen years he needs a little more guidance, support and information…and booze.  Lot’s of booze. I could write an entire book on Dylan’s interaction with the girls. First bras, first dances, first crushes, make up, boy bands and hormones. Oh Lord the hormones. He doesn’t get it, which usually leads to heavy dose of arm flapping and some tears. To be clear, the tears are from him…not the girls.

Truth be told is that although he originally wanted children with outside plumbing, they have had him wrapped around their little fingers since the day they were born. He is a daddy to little girls…now this is all he knows. Years later he is still wrapped around said sticky little fingers, but he needs to realize they are also playing him like a fiddle in a country fair.

We had a late Thanksgiving dinner last night with my entre side of the family. Let’s just call it Turkey Dinner with a Heaping Side Dish of Crazy. Dylan seemed a bit quiet most of the night but granted we were rushed trying to fit in sports and errands before the shit show…err I mean family gathering. He had offered to go grocery shopping earlier in the day. Nice right? Well he also offered to take the two older girls with him. Some daddy-daughter time if you will. Silly silly boy.

The time they were gone did not correlate with the size of the grocery list. It should have been my first sign something was off. I was a wee bit concerned, but was too busy basking in my one child quiet house to dig any deeper into my slight panic. I did notice when he got home that his face was a little redder than usual and I could see his heartbeat in his neck…but we had to rush off to dinner.

After dinner and a glass of wine Dylan began to describe his shopping experience with the basement trolls. Through exasperated breaths, some slight spitting and an abundance of flappy arms marked with a concerning yet entertaining repetition this is what unfolded:

Dylan described them getting ready for a trip to the grocery store like it was prom night. After an hour of prep time they were in finally in the car.

Olivia: “Dad, I’m out of mascara.”

Dylan: “I’m not buying you mascara, its not on my list.”

Olivia:  “Oh, but we are going to the grocery store and its cheaper there, we should just buy some anyway.”

Dylan: “No Mascara, please don’t mention it again.”

Olivia: “Ok, but I really need some. Do you think we can just look?”

Peyton: “Where are we going? Are we done yet? This is sooooo boring.”  <insert eye rolling here>

Dylan: “Just get the cart”

Girls: “Mom always gets the cart”

As Dylan walked through the sliding doors into the land of grocery mayhem on a Sunday ready to complete his mission, he was greeted by Miss. Olivia who had now rushed into the store ahead of him and cut him off back at the entrance with…low and behold a new mascara in her hands.

Olivia: “Look dad, I found some mascara and it was on sale. We should buy it right?”

At that point Dylan started chasing her with the cart through the store as Peyton was hanging off the side like a monkey snorting in glee.

Dylan: “Girls go pick two boxes of cereal from the isle two over please.”

Girls complaining: “But…its...so….far. Are we done yet?”

<Insert Dylan stomping feet/flapping entire body here>

Girls: “Dad! Stop it, you are embarrassing us”.

Ten minutes later they arrive back empty handed explaining the cereal was not in the isle three over.

Dylan: “I said two isles over. Or you could just look up at the large descriptive signs hanging over the isles Do you have any brains??? Its cereal ladies not brain surgery. Where have you been for the last ten minutes?”

Girls: “Looking at mascara. Can we go now? How much loooonger?”

Dylan: “Peyton, go and get some popcorn please.”

Peyton: “Well I can’t go alone, Olivia come with me.”

Dylan is perplexed by this as they cannot stand to be beside each other for two minutes in a row yet cannot go anywhere alone. After he sends them he listens as they fight in the next isle over what kind of popcorn they each want. He puts his head down and pulls his hoody over his shiny and now glistening bald head. The girls come back with two choices of popcorn and begin to proceed to fight over what kind daddy should buy. Dylan throws up his hands and puts both choices in the cart.

I explain to him that this was their master plan all along and he had just been outwitted by 12 years olds.

He told me he stopped by the liquor store on the way home.

Dylan continued to go on for a while about the lack of testosterone around him and the impossibility of pre-teenage girls. I think the room lost interest but it was good for him to get it out.

I stared at him thoughtfully during this one of many Dylan rants. I tuned him out as per usual but in this moment I was thankful for what an amazing father he is.  They indeed will forever be daddy’s little girls. He will make it through….hormones, make up, boy crushes and all.

However, I do not envy any boy that is brave enough to ask for a date.

Xoxo

J

The Million-Dollar Question

So what does the house look like now??

It’s been a month to the day that I started my strike.  Many people are asking if 'The Strike' worked? Is the house clean? Are the girls doing their chores?

My house is spotless. Each morning the girls spring out of bed before their alarms, get dressed without a fight, eat their breakfast and put away their dishes. They are even wiping the counters before school with pinesol and then bringing me coffee in bed. Each dog is fed and let out before I even open my eyes. After school, each one of them is bringing their lunch kits to the counter, emptying them and wiping them out before they quickly share the task of emptying the dishwasher and setting the table for dinner. Dylan and I have sat down after supper each night as they clean the entire kitchen, listening to them delegate jobs amongst themselves and then attending to homework. Laundry is not only being delivered to and sorted by the laundry room, but also being washed to perfection, folded and put away the second it is done. Last Saturday we cleaned as a family and they eagerly volunteered for jobs like dusting, bathrooms, vacuuming and mopping.  Today each of them asked me what extra jobs needed to be done before computer or TV time.

And I have some ocean front property in Arizona to sell you at an amazing deal today and today only.

It sounds nice doesn’t it? A girl can dream right? I used to think this was my goal. My perfection. It’s not anymore…well some of it, like the freaking laundry mountain to become at least a laundry foothill.

I am proud to announce that ‘after school jobs’ have been done each day without one reminder. Each dish is being cleaned up immediately after each meal. My dishwasher is being emptied each day with only like 4 nags, not 1000. Laundry is being brought to the laundry room and if its not...I don’t careJ I’m not yelling or nagging. When my girls have noticed me picking up a glass or plate, they quickly have said, “Oops sorry mom, that was mine, or thank you mom”. I did catch Dylan arm flapping the other day…shhhh, don’t tell him I told you.

This was not a magic wand for parenting by any stretch of the imagination. Instead a creative hands on reminder. I do not expect perfection…. it’s not healthy for them or for me. (I keep telling myself this) But we have giggled and laughed a lot these last three weeks. They are kids…normal kids, well-behaved kids and I am blessed. Really all I need to do is just whisper the word ‘blog’ and everyone jumps to action!

I can honestly say for those asking if the lesson did stick…yes it did.  Mostly FOR ME!!

I am a nurturer by nature. For the love of God, when they were out of diapers I got fish, when the fish were flushed I got dogs, when the dogs were no longer puppies I started fostering babies. I have a weird need to take care of things. Except plants. Those things are just so difficult. I think they hate me and die on purpose. Stupid plants. I really need to explore that about myself (not the plant murders, but my need to care give). Maybe I should start a therapy pot for me. Oh wait, I already have one; its red and in a bottle.

I love being a mom and I also love having a clean house. What is more important? Well obviously the clean house…I’m kidding. My anxiety went a little bit high even as I wrote that…but it's true and I am a work in progress. It’s a balance for me between many things. Like teaching them responsibility, doing things for them because I love them, letting go, not letting go, not becoming crazy nagging mom and having time to drink red wine. I drew a smiley face in dust on the shelf AND messed up the vacuum lines in the carpet the other day.  J Gold star for me!

Halloween has come and gone. Thank goodness. I hate hate hate Halloween. Sorry to all the Halloween lovers out there. It’s just so stressful for my type A scheduled/perfect costumes/balanced diet personality. This was the last year for my older girls to dress up and go trick or treating. I high fived Dylan (yes, same hand as I high fived Matt with) as I cheered that we are so close to the end of the costume and candy night phase of crazy in our parenting. I realized as I was falling asleep last night that when all is said and done and our nest is empty…I will miss it.

Halloween wrappers left around the house make me crazy!! I was clear with the girls that anytime I find an empty wrapper around the house this year, I will go into each of their bags and throw away one treat of my choosing. So far so good. Well except for the wrapper…oops, make that multitude of wrappers around me. Those chocolate bars are just so little its ok to have ten(ish) right? Damn Peanut Butter Cups. I have mini chocolate bar shame.

Xoxo

J

Next Steps

Top Ten Things I Never Thought I would say

1.     Hey mom and dad…I’m going to be on the Today show.

2.     I’m sorry; I can’t speak to you until I am done filming with The Today Show/Katie Couric/Jeff Probst.

3.     When will my driver be here?

4.     Girls please stop fighting and please be quiet! BBC London is Skyping. Geesh!

5.     What time am I suppose to be in hair and make-up?

6.     Jeff Probst’s dimples are extremely distracting.

7.     Oh look, I made the India Times.

8.     I just have take a quick conference call with the tv/movie guy calling….can you please take the kids swimming?

9.     My blog just passed 600,000 hits.

10. I’m sorry all requests will have to go through my agent.

That’s right…I now have an agent.  Unreal. Just unreal.That sounds so weird to me.

When I was in L.A I was fortunate enough to be called by a well known fabulous agent/partner from a large firm who asked to represent me!! ME!!! Many of you have asked me to or suggested I write a book. Well…looks like that is going to happen. A well-known TV/Movie producer also approached me and time will tell where that will go after my book. 

My book…hee hee!

FYI…not everyone in Hollywood are money hungry sharks. All of the people I met have been nothing but open, honest and kind while not taking advantage of my clear lack of knowledge about this industry.  I can’t speak if that applies to Mini Mr. T and Mr. Batman dude, but I couldn’t be more excited to work with Amy Schiffman and the Intellectual Property Group. No need for jokes here about my ‘intellect’

While I was in L.A there was a National Writers & Screen Writers Conference taking place in the hotel we were staying at. The irony of this is not lost on me. People go to school and work a lifetime for this career…and here I was in the lobby having it handed to me on a silver platter. As I looked around at all the established and aspiring Authors, I felt humbled. I also felt a wee bit giggly…is this actually happening?? Yeah it is!!!

To say I feel blessed would be an understatement.

To say I feel scared would be an understatement.

I am a pretty confident gal in most arenas in my life.  To deal with this new feeling of self-doubt has brought much learning about myself. I keep flipping between ‘pee my pants excitement’ (which isn’t hard for me as you know) to ‘what the hell am I doing?’ However, to wake up at almost *ahem* forty years old and discover I have a talent for writing that I didn’t know existed, has been a wonderful gift. I need to follow this path and see where it takes me.

A very wise mentor of mine, and someone dear to my heart recently sent me a copy of my favorite poem:

The Road Not Taken

 Robert Frost (1874–1963)

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

So I AM going to take the road less traveled and hope you will join me on the journey.

The 15 minutes has lead to a very exciting new chapter…(see what I did there? lol)

I now find myself in a world with a foreign language of book proposals, editors, offers, deals, publishers and marketing. I also have to do laundry.  Right now I am feeling pretty confident about my laundry. Well, that and my wine drinking abilities.

While I have some professional guidance and ideas floating around in my head...I want your input. After reading my writings and my style, what would you like to read from me?

Xoxo

J

Tonight as you smile with me...please also keep the East Coast of the USA and Canada on your heart and in your prayers.