Carpool Candy secrets revealed

After blogging for more than a year, getting people to read it is always more challenging than writing.  Some of you are extremely loyal readers whom I adore, others are passersby who stumble onto Carpool Candy from a Google search and stay to poke around.

But I’ve realized that people don’t always understand how the blog works.

carpool candy logo

I used to write a regular weekly column for an AOL/Patch website that was also called Carpool Candy, but I stopped writing that almost three years ago. I wanted to keep writing and sharing my stories so Carpool Candy the blog was born, hosted by WordPress.

One way to gauge a blog’s popularity is by how many followers it has. If you like Carpool Candy and hate to miss a post, you should become a follower. Look on the upper right corner of your screen and there should be a box that either says “you follow this blog” or asks you to sign up to follow it. All that means is you provide your email address and choose whether you want to receive an email every time I post (2-3 times a week) or once a week.

WordPress provides a stats page, which is a fascinating window into who’s reading my blog. I admit, I’m obsessed with my stats. I check them 3-4 times a day. I like to see what time of day people read posts most (usually morning,) and where they come from ( I get readers from all over the world, from Singapore to Ireland to Dubai, but 80% come from the US and Canada.)

I can also tell who found me on Facebook and Twitter, and who did a Google search. I have a list of detailed search terms that helps me see which posts are hitting best and which have longevity.  A post I wrote in March of 2012 about my son’s scavenger hunt birthday party is very popular and gets multiple hits every single day. My most popular post of all-time was the recent one I wrote about yoga, which got close to a thousand views in one day!

blog logo

The craziest story about my stats is when I wrote a post last summer about our family trip to Martha’s Vineyard. I mentioned a beach we went to that has a clothing-optional section. You’ll notice I’m not using certain words here because for several weeks after that post I was getting many hits a day from people searching the web for “(other words for) clothing optional and kids.” Creepy!

Thus far, I’ve made no effort to sell ads on my site. That’s partly because I thought I needed to bank content, and get a significant following before I went out and sold my product. But it’s also because the idea of marketing my work scares the snot out of me. My goal was never to make big money off the blog, but rather to write meaningful pieces that kept my writing muscle active, and could either help me get a paid entertainment/lifestyle writing job, or maybe a book deal.

A girl can dream, no?

My number of blog visitors and how many posts they viewed have increased significantly most months  (August/ December were my slowest)  but I wish they were higher.

When I see people I know, they frequently apologize for not being up-to-date on my blog.  That’s crazy!  I don’t expect anyone (except you, Mom!) to read every post. I have many blogging friends whose writing I love and I wish I had the time to read every word of every post, but it’s not realistic.

One of my fav bloggers at BlogHer12

One of my fav bloggers at BlogHer12

It’s more helpful for you to spread the word if you like a post, than read each one. My goal is to provide great content and find new readers and you can actually help with that. Here’s how:

Become a follower! Sign up for regular emails. It’s free!

“Like” my new Carpool Candy Facebook page, which you’ll find right here.

SHARE! SHARE! SHARE!   Please share any posts you like on your Facebook page or forward a link to a friend. That’s huge.

Tell me how you find the blog most often. Facebook? Email? Friend?

Tell me in the comments (or Tweet me @carpoolcandy)  which topics you click on most. Sappy kid stories? TV analysis? Social media stories? Party ideas? Books? I’m always surprised by which stories get play and which fizzle. Tell me why!

I’m attending a giant blogging conference this week in Chicago called BlogHer, where I hope to get more ideas for making CarpoolCandy even better and reaching more people.  5,000 opinionated women (and a few brave men!)  in one space should be informative… and loud.  Will report back next week.

Thanks for being the people who read CarpoolCandy!

Emmy nominations: Did they get it right?

Emmy nominations were announced this morning so you’ve probably been waiting all day to hear my take on who’s been named among the best in TV.  Many of my favorites were recognized, but– as always– there were some snubs that had TV critics and fans clucking on social media all day.

Emmy Nominations Announcements

A complete list of the nominations can be found here so you can follow along as the drama unfolds.

There were some interesting headlines:

–Netflix received 14 nominations, including best drama for House of Cards, Kevin Spacey for best lead actor, and Robin Wright for best lead actress for the show.  Jason Bateman also got a nod for his turn in the new season of Arrested Development.  Pretty impressive for a non network that just started putting out content.

–HBO did well with 108 nominations for its shows and original movies. The acclaimed Behind the Candelabra, starring Michael Douglas as Liberace and Matt Damon as his young lover, received many nods including best mini series or movie, which puts it up against the widely watched mini-series The Bible on the History Channel. Certainly very different audiences.

Saturday Night Live got 15 nominations– including the amazing Kristin Wiig for all her crazy characters– which broke the record for most nominations ever (171!) over the course of its 38-year run. (Fun fact: next highest nominated shows of all time are ER and Cheers. Remember when  NBC ruled the world?)

— Just as last year, the major networks got nada in the best drama category, losing out to cable channels and Netflix, proving how much the model of successful TV has changed.

As for individual players, there were few pleasant surprises but you can’t make everyone happy.

Fans of The Good Wife were disappointed that Julianna Margulies got left off the best actress list, but if you watch Scandal, you’ll probably be cheering for it-girl Kerry Washington.

Emmy nominations 2013 review Merritt Wever

Merritt Wever as Zoey on “Nurse Jackie”/Showtime

Once again, I’m pulling for Merritt Wever for best supporting actress in Nurse Jackie. No one makes me laugh or rewind more. She owns that character and makes that show. She’s a dark horse because few watch it and she’s up against the gorgeous and talented Modern Family ladies and Gleek favorite Jane Lynch, but I’m dreaming big for Merritt.

Although many gave up on The Office in its last season, the series finale was one of the best I’ve ever seen. Clever, funny and just the right amount of sap to finish off one of the best comedies of all time. I was glad to see the excellent writing got recognized with an Emmy nod for the finale.

Girls got a bunch of nods but I was delighted that Adam Driver snagged a nominaton for playing Hannah’s boyfriend, with just the right amount of crazy to be scary and believable.

Snubs that make me want to smash my plasma screen with a remote:

Monica Potter not recognized for her amazing season as the cancer-stricken mom who can do it all on Parenthood? Those hospital scenes had Emmy written all over them. She’s one of the reasons that show is appointment crying! Really Academy?! Despicable.

Emmy nominations review 2013 New Girl girl

And let’s not even talk about forgetting Max Greenfield, Jake Johnson and Zooey Deschanel for New Girl. It’s every bit as funny– and arguably more hip– than Modern Family, yet no love in the best comedy category either. It aint right!!

Instead, up for best comedy are these shows:

The Big Bang Theory /CBS

Girls /HBO

Louie/FX Networks

Modern Family /ABC

30 Rock/NBC

Veep/HBO

I’m curious about Veep and Louie. Tried them each once and wasn’t bowled over but maybe worth another look. I vote for Girls because Modern Family has won several times already and nobody likes an Emmy hog.

I’m at a disadvantage in the Best Drama category because I don’t watch all the shows:

Breaking Bad/AMC

Downton Abbey/PBS

Game of Thrones/HBO

Homeland/Showtime

House of Cards/Netflix

Mad Men/AMC

Emmy nominations review Mad Men logo

Wilson and I have been plowing through seasons 1 and 2 of Downton Abbey and as soon as we’re done, we’re moving on to Breaking Bad. But as much as I adore a Granny Violet zinger on Downton, and the creative terror plot intrigue of Homeland, there just can’t be any show as consistently good as Mad Men.  The writing is as tight as Joan’s dresses, the characters as rich as Roger Sterling. Everything from the music and opening credits to the art direction and costumes is perfection. I’m not saying I always understand it, but I’m riveted, transported in time, and sorry when it’s over. Every single episode.

Who’s a shoe-in? Maggie Smith as the Dowager Countess of Grantham on Downton Abbey.

Everyone else will just have to wait until September 22nd, when the Emmy winners will be announced on CBS.

Tell me who you were surprised to see nominated or snubbed in the comments….

Watching kids come into their own

One of the things I like best about summer is that our light-speed pace slows down a bit.  That gives me rare one-on-one time with my boys and the chance to notice special moments.

I was driving home from a baseball game in another town recently when we hit a roadblock. The directions I usually follow were now useless and I had to find my way back home on my own. I don’t love driving on a good day, so getting lost with a car full of kids as it’s getting dark was extremely anxiety-provoking.

13-year-old Jacob was in the front seat and snapped to attention as soon as I voiced my concerns. He began to talk me through several turns, predicting which landmarks were coming up so I could get my bearings. I was so turned around and edgy I doubted him at first, until I realized he completely knew where he was going and decisively led me back home.

Kids growing up

If Jacob had not been in the car, I would definitely have gotten flustered and either gotten lost, or pulled over to call Wilson or look up directions on my phone. (We don’t have a built-in GPS in the car because Wilson refuses to use one and calls it an unnecessary “crutch,” but I digress.)

I was wiping my sweaty palms on my shorts and rubbing the ball of tension out of my neck as the road ahead of me became familiar again. I smiled and looked over at Jacob.  A physical rush ran through my body of love and pride as I saw him at that moment with fresh eyes.  He was so grown up, so self-assured, so in control.

Last week, I took 10-year-old Aden to the zoo with some friends. He’s wild about animals and led us around the grounds with the enthusiasm of a cheerleader, and the  knowledge of an encyclopedia. He recognized scores of animals and rattled off distinguishing characteristics and behaviors, as if they were his pals.

Aden feeds a bird at the zoo

Aden feeds a bird at the zoo

He knows all this because he’s constantly reading books, watching shows, and studying animals. Watching him in action, speaking so authoritatively, was pretty cool.

We took  7-year-old Eli to a party Friday night on our street. The party hosts have younger kids so my older boys didn’t want to go.  I figured Eli would know several neighborhood kids there but wasn’t exactly sure who would show up. As always, Eli’s eyes lit up at the mention of a party, and he grabbed his shoes without ever asking a detail about guests, food, or how long we would stay.

Eli’s one of the most confident people I’ve ever met. He’s always taken on any social challenge with glee and gusto. New school or camp? No problem. Tagging along to watch his brothers’ games? He’s in. Attending any social event– from  dinner with friends to a giant party with no kids his age?  Bring it on.

That’s not how Wilson or I rolled as a kid. Heck, it’s not even how I roll now. I still don’t like going to new places or parties unless I have peops I can lean on.  I’ll do it, but it’s out of my comfort zone.

The whole world is Eli’s comfort zone. He has a big personality and has coasted on charm, no matter whom he encounters.  It’s fun to watch.

Click here for video of him at Jacob’s bar mitzvah, dancing in front of the entire room. Not a shy bone in his body!

Eli gets down at a recent party

Eli gets down at a recent party

I’d love to say it’s all because of my fabulous parenting. But let’s face it, I’m not a strong or experienced driver, I know nothing about animals and I still get nervous going somewhere where I don’t know people.

My boys are becoming their own people, with strengths and traits that have little to do with me or Wilson. As much as I hate how quickly they seem to be growing up, it’s aha moments like these that make parenting big kids gratifying.

The OCD habit I have to break

magazine hoarding

Hi, my name is Brooke, and I’m a zine-addict.

It started when I was young. I loved reading about Michael J. Fox and Matthew Broderick in Tiger Beat before graduating to the profiles and essays in Esquire. My dad was a big fan of Time, New York, and Vanity Fair and my mom was a religious reader of House & Garden , W, and People, just to name a few.  I remember how excited she got every August when the 4-pound September issue of Vogue arrived in the mail.

I feel the same when my Real Simple comes, or when I turn to the last page of the Times magazine to read the “Lives “essay and dream of one day getting published.

But my fondness for magazines has gotten out of control and they’re taking over my home. My problem is, once they enter my house, I simply cannot throw them away until I read them. Not necessarily cover to cover– but I have to give each magazine a good flip-through before I toss it.

Office/Playroom

Office/Playroom

Like everyone else, I’m so busy it’s hard to find time to read magazines, especially since I read so much for work. But it’s equally difficult accepting that I can’t keep up, and may miss a vital article on anything– from best cooking gadgets to the latest on Syria to the inside scoop on Jennifer Aniston’s wedding plans.

I need to know!

My magazine habit is so ingrained that I pay for subscriptions 2-3 years in advance so I don’t have to worry about missing a payment and thus an issue. But that means they keep arriving in my mailbox, all crispy and new, busting with news and tantalizing headlines, begging me to delve in.

Magazine hoarding

Desk

I’ve been getting Parents since my oldest was born (he’s now 13)  and would never renew but it keeps showing up. I always think I should pass it on to a friend with younger kids– how much more do I need to know at this point? But then there’s always that one headline that grabs my eye and makes me hang onto it. I would like to know the ten best tips to keep my kid safe in cyber space.

The New York Times magazine, Time and People are the real killers because they’re weekly, but the Country Livings, Food Networks, and Real Simples cumulate quickly too. And now my boys (ages 7, 10, and 13)  are adding fuel to my fire with Sports Illustrated every week.

Kitchen

Kitchen

So the pulp piles up, all over the house. There are baskets, crates, and shelves teeming with them on the first floor. Others gather in flat spots in my bedroom, while stray issues litter every bathroom, despite a full recycling bag every week of those I’ve managed to read and dismiss.

I need help people.

Remember, I’m a journalist who’s always seeking information.  I also like pretty pictures and gossip as much as the next gal.

Bedroom

Bedroom

I have a “toss it after one year” rule in place, but it doesn’t help all that much. I just don’t know how to cure myself. Whenever I’m completely disgusted with the state of the house and decide to tackle my enormous heaps, I wind up spending hours perusing mags, and ripping out articles I must save, until I’m exhausted and can’t read another word.

Bathroom

Bathroom

The first step is admitting you have a problem. So here I am,  lifting the veil on this compulsive behavior.

Any advice for this magazine junkie? I welcome it in the comments. Otherwise, I may have to start subscribing to Psychology Today to get some answers.

The moment in yoga class I dread most

I practice yoga two or three times a week but I’ve written very little about it. Many people still hold misconceptions about yoga and dismiss it– either because they think it’s not enough of a workout ( it is!)  or because it’s too touchy feely or cultish (it’s not!)

Fellow yogis get why it’s one of the most powerful things you can do for yourself. It’s exercise, sure, but the work you do in yoga makes your entire body stronger, increases your balance and agility, and teaches you how to breathe more consciously and efficiently. Practicing yoga regularly can also help unclutter your mind, relieve stress, and make you more calm.

It’s that last part that makes some people uncomfortable.  If you’ve never tried yoga or even if you’ve taken only a few classes, it’s difficult to appreciate its positive effects.  I know many people who have come away from initial experiences thinking it’s a bunch of hippies stretching on the floor.

Yoga practice

You have to practice a lot to get familiar with the proper way to do a pose, and then find an ease in holding it. It’s then when you realize how much strength and mental effort it takes to get each pose aligned correctly.

I love the physical challenges of yoga, and the fact that I’m concentrating so hard on perfecting a pose, I can’t think about anything else.  When I leave class, my body feels stretched like I’ve had a massage, and I’m always more placid than when I arrived because –most of the time– I escaped the junk in my mind for an hour.

That’s why I keep returning to my mat.

But I understand why the spiritual aspect of yoga freaks some people out.

I admit then when I first started it intimidated me too. It’s common for teachers to read or tell an enlightening story at the beginning or end of class. Some poses include putting your hands together in prayer. Often teachers ask students to set an intention for their practice, which could be a word (serenity, patience, kindness, etc)  or a dedication to a person who could use positive energy like a loved one who’s sick or going through a hard time.

At first, I thought that part was hokey, but as I got used to it, I came to appreciate the opportunity to think about something outside myself for a moment. Now I look forward to it.

But then there’s the om.

Om is a simple mantra sound– of Hindu or Indian origin–  that’s often chanted three times at the beginning and end of a yoga session.

It’s pronounced: “aaaaaaauuuuuuummmmmmm!”

There are several explanations for why this is done.  Some say it represents the union of mind, body, and spirit at the heart of yoga, coming together in a single sound. Ancient yogis believed that “om” signified the sound of the universe. By chanting it in a class, it brings all the people and energy in the room together as one voice.

It can be a cool experience. But sometimes you just want to stay under the radar and break a sweat.

Om-ing is a routine part of any yoga practice, and although I’ve been taking classes for six years, I’ve never felt completely comfortable in my om skin.

om

Symbol for “om”

Every teacher is different so there’s no universal approach to om-ing. Some start low and get high, others can be monotone. Oms can be sung or chanted, long or short.  You just never know what you’re going to get.

You’re supposed to breathe deeply through the nose to fill up your lungs so you can really belt out your om. But if you don’t get enough air in, you can peter out half-way through and feel lost. Or worse, you can suck in so much air that you’re the last one making noise when the room goes quiet. I hate that.

Some yogis just love being the loudest and/or longest om-er in the room.  Not me. Most of the time, I just want to get it over with and get down dogging.

One of my favorite teachers– who has a hand-pumped harmonium and gorgeous singing voice–plays her instrument at the beginning and end of class and leads her om so beautifully that no matter who’s in the room, it sounds like a chorus at Carnegie Hall. I like those oms. 

It’s true that practicing yoga has the potential to make you uneasy. And I’m not talking about the joys of standing on your head or winding your body into a pretzel. But yoga forces you to connect with the other people in the room in a way other exercise experiences don’t. It encourages you to be in the moment and face how you’re feeling.

There are times when I feel self-conscious and vulnerable.  My reluctance to om is likely part of my initial resistance to those connections. I’ve noticed it’s always easier for me to om at the end of class because I’ve given in to the journey.

Although om is not my favorite part of yoga, I’ve come to appreciate it. It’s another way to push myself through petty insecurities and be more self-aware. I never got that from a treadmill.

My 4th of July in photos

I celebrated Independence Day like this:

–Yoga

–Baked a pound cake

Pound cake for July 4th party

–Watched my 10-year old son win a baseball game

Baseball

–Went to a barbecue with friends

July 4th barbecue

–Watched the town fireworks with 4/5ths of my family (13-year-old ditched us for his friends)

July 4th fireworks

July 4th fireworks

July 4th fireworks

All in all pretty great day. It’s good to be an American.

July 4th fireworks

Hope yours was great too!

I survived one of life’s embarrassing moments

The other day I decided to make a new recipe for spaghetti and clam sauce. I took 7-year-old Eli with me into our small village to get clams. I parked in front of the frozen yogurt store and saw my friend Callie* in the window. I went in to chat with her briefly and then headed to the fish store. After gabbing with the friendly guy behind the counter, I  bought my clams. Next, I took Eli to the grocery store to get chicken nuggets, because he’s mildly allergic to shellfish and can’t eat the clams. I saw a few people I knew in the store, nabbed my nuggets, and left.

clams

When I arrived home a few minutes later and walked into the house, my 10-year-old son, Aden, startled me, yelling,MOM!”

What?” I said defensively as he looked at me with mouth gaping open.

“What happened to your pants?” Aden cried.

“What do you mean?” said I, looking down at my blue cotton capri pants. They looked fine to me.

But Aden was pointing to my behind with wide eyes and a goofy grin. Now Eli was in on the action and started pointing too.  I craned my neck around and saw what looked like a rip in my pants. I reached down to discover a giant gaping hole!

This wasn’t a split on the seam or small cut on the pocket. It was air conditioning. I had a tear in my trousers that put my derriere on display!

I don’t know how I didn’t notice it because now all I could feel was the air rushing through fabric to my skin.  As my charming children burst into a fit of giggles, I ran in horror to the mirror to look up close.

Then I started to remember all the places I had visited in town, all the people I saw… and panicked about whether they had witnessed my wardrobe malfunction.

Eli, did you see this hole when we are at Kings?!” I shrieked.

He couldn’t remember. First he said yes, then he said, no. I was comforted by his uncertainty and ran through all the possible ways the rip could have occurred.

I have a wire back support attached to the driver’s seat in my minivan. I convinced myself that the pants got caught on it as I was exiting the car. Surely I would have noticed this behemoth break in my britches if it happened in town.

Now, with a reasonable explanation to allay my fears, I proceeded to make my spaghetti and clams, still wearing my holey pants. I wanted Wilson to get the full effect of my folly when he got home. Just telling the story would not do, he needed the visual.

Life's embarrassing moments ripped pants

Impressive, no?

(I can’t tell you how much I loathe posting a fanny photo, but it really enhances the story.)

Meanwhile, at a party a few days later, I  ran into Callie. Just to be sure of my theory, I casually asked her if she happened to notice  a gap in my pants when I saw her at the yogurt store.

” Oh, yes! I did notice that, ” she said looking slightly worried.

I was mortified.

“Why didn’t you say something?” I implored, still in a mild state of shock. Now the truth hit me like an ice-cold bucket of water over the head. I really had pranced all over town, chatting it up with friends and strangers, with my haunches hanging out.  There was no denying it.

The only thing to do was laugh.

Although my lining was ripped, I found some silver in it. I’m grateful I didn’t discover the split until I got home. How would I have found a graceful exit to any of the stores I visited that fateful day once humiliation set in? It was hot out.  I had no sweatshirt to tie around my waist, no blouse to untuck.

And, my story has brought smiles to the faces of many. My friend, Rebecca, says she was washing dishes and found herself chuckling aloud at the thought of me and my holey pants trotting down Main Street, completely unaware.  I’ve shared the story many times with friends who’ve howled with delight.

I like to think I’ve created my own Sisterhood of the Unraveling Pants.

Don’t leave me out here, practically naked, all alone. Tell me your most embarrassing story in the comments!

(*not her real name to protect the innocent….and/or guilty!)

1st day of summer: the good, the bad and the unexpected

My boys  (ages 7, 10 and 13)  had their last day of school yesterday. The end of the year snuck up on me while I was busy with work projects so I spent the morning paying library fines for lost books, and buying and delivering teacher gifts  (nothing like the last-minute!)  Then the kids came home, giddy as can be.

Aden hoolahoop summer starts

The younger two will start various camps next week and I’m trying to figure out what to do with my teenager.  But day-one of summer vacation was about just chillin’.

Some early observations:

The good:   I didn’t have to pack three lunches this morning. No arguing about food and rushing around like a lunatic. No extra Tupperware clogging up the dishwasher.

The not so good:  I still had to make lunch! In fact, now the kids have friends over and I have to make lunch for more kids and actually watch them not eat what I prepare. At least at school, I’m blissfully unaware of how much they waste.

Bus stop kids, last day of school

Bus stop kids, last day of school

The good:  No more rushing to make the school bus in the morning and afternoon.

The not so good:   I’ll miss my bus stop pals. Where will I get my latest crime reports and funny kid stories? I looked forward to that adult conversation and camaraderie twice a day.

The good:  The kids slept late and entertained themselves this morning, just like a weekend. I got to read, clean up, and take a run in peace.

The not so good:  I can see already that the Xbox and I are going to have a real problem this summer. He’s just too tempting and sucks all the life and time out of my eager children.

The good:  We have no routine, which feels freeing and fun. It’s all possibilities!

The not so good:  We have no routine! It’s up to me to find ways to engage these people in activities that hopefully don’t involve a screen.  Everyone’s going to bed at crazy hours. “Who cares how late we stay up, mom? It’s summer!”

Summer fun

The good: I loved cuddling with Eli in bed this morning and planning the day together. I won’t eat as many meals alone and I have buddies on my errands.

The not so good:   They’re all in my bidness.  It’s difficult to get work done. During the school year they do their thing and I do mine, and usually they don’t give a hoot about where I am in the hours they don’t see me.  Now they’re complaining about everything we have to get done and want a say in the plan.

The unexpected:  On my run this morning I heard a sad Sheryl Crow song and got choked up. As I held back tears, I realized that I had been stifling them since yesterday.

Summer is my favorite time of year. I love being with my kids more– despite my facetious complaining– and enjoying free, unstructured time.  But the beginning of summer, also means the end of another school year.  Jacob only has one more year of middle school , Aden is almost done with grammar school, and Eli will never be in first grade again.

Summer starts

All three boys refused to get sentimental about leaving their teachers and classmates, so maybe I was feeling it for them. Or maybe I just hate how little control I have over time.

Instead of rejoicing the beginning of summer, I’ve been a bit mellow. I guess all I can do is try to appreciate the good right now.  I know I’ll look back and be glad I did.

I could live out of my minivan, could you?

I was at my son’s baseball game when one of his brothers fell and scraped his knee. No problem, I thought. I reached into my oversized purse to retrieve Neosporin and a band-aid and all was well in the world again. About a half hour later, another mom spilled food on her shorts. I whipped out a Tide clean stick and blotted the stain, which faded within minutes.

The other parents teased and applauded me for my readiness for any situation.  I started to wonder how long my family could survive living out of my handbag and car.

If you emptied the storage spaces and explored the nooks and crannies of my minivan, you could probably exist quite comfortably for at least three days. I’m not certain why I feel a strong need to be prepared for so many situations — perhaps I was some sort of foreign refugee in a former life. All I know is not having something I might need makes me anxious.

Ever since my children were babies and I started carrying around a twenty pound diaper bag, I’ve accumulated more stuff to lug “just in case.” With kids “just in case” happens all the time. Extra clothes if they spill or get cold…snack options if they’re hungry….wipes to clean up. It began with the basics, but once we got a minivan, the stockpiling really took off.

Honda Odyssey living out of my minivan

We travel a lot in that minivan: the beach, the city, vacation, sporting events, concerts, etc. Each time we go, I seem to stow more stuff. But I rarely remove, so the arsenal keeps growing.

My minivan is a bit like a tiny Target store. The front seats are where you would find the snacks, cleaning supplies, reading materials and health and hygiene items.  Dig deep into the front bins and you might score pretzels, granola bars, fruit leathers, protein bars, raisins, and gum. Thirsty after all those snacks? How about some Gatorade or water? If you don’t mind backwash, you’re in business.

For sticky fingers, a spill, or a good cry, try my anti-bacterial wipes and tissues.

I could live out of my minivan

If your lips are dry, you have a choice of lip balm and two shades of gloss. There are ponytail holders and headbands for hair control and hand cream to moisturize on the go. I have Benadryl in case of allergic reactions (bees! pollen! peanut butter!)  and A&D soothes minor cuts and prevents diaper rash.

I’m not done.

The second row houses toys, games, and clothing in my tiny Target. I have Matchbox cars, crayons, and Uno cards.  A selection of shorts, sweatshirts, and raincoats in various sizes clutter the trunk.

In the electronics department, there’s a GPS, iPod, CD’s, and phone rechargers for devices we haven’t used in a year.

Sports enthusiasts will never be bored with the equipment in the trunk: baseball bats, mitts, and hats…two footballs and a frisbee.  Fans can borrow folding chairs, an umbrella, and two outdoor blankets for watching games.

I could live out of my minivan

Am I nuts or do you have similar stashes in your car?

Why do we do it? For me, it’s primarily the fear of an unhappy child. The wares I’ve amassed stave off boredom, hunger, and physical discomfort. Have my children experienced these hardships? Of course! But it’s always more pleasant for mommy if I can prevent them whenever possible. Like much of my experience in parenthood, it’s organized chaos.

One of the downsides—besides you people thinking I’m a great candidate for an episode of “Hoarders,” —is that my kids have come to expect the snacks, amusement, and extra layers. Am I limiting their coping skills? The way I see it, easing their pain is really easing mine. My car coffer keeps the whining to a minimum.

When I’m in a friend’s car that’s spare and orderly with no sign of survival stuff, I wince with guilt. But I wouldn’t be comfortable feeling unprepared. What if their kids wanted to toss a football while chewing gum and listening to music? What if they were so cold, they started sneezing and fell down and scraped their elbow? That’s one less thing I have to worry about.

Frustrations of a soccer mom

My boys  (13, 10, and 7)  are good athletes and love to play sports.  My older boys have played on travel soccer and baseball teams for many years so we are versed in the politics and turmoil of team sports. As the level of play increases, so does the intensity of the kids and parents.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m a fan of my kids but not a sports fan, and hardly an athlete. I don’t share the same vested interest and passion of many of the families we encounter. No one is more fervent about sports than Wilson, but– to his credit– he’s able to remain extremely calm and reasonable when it comes to our boys’ athletic endeavors.  He cares about winning more than he admits, but at the end of the day, he wants them to improve their skills and enjoy playing more than anything else.

During the 2011-2012 soccer season,  our 10-year-old son, Aden was a solid contributor to his travel team. But when he tried out in May of 2012 for the 2012-2013 year, he didn’t make the team he had played on and was moved to another team.

kids playing soccer

We were disappointed and frustrated by the way the team organizers mishandled the process and communication involving several kids, not just mine. We honestly didn’t care as much about the level of play Aden would experience on the new team, as much as that all of his close friends remained on his old team.

Aden’s first reaction was to quit. Soccer isn’t his favorite sport, but he’s fast and aggressive and has good instincts and skills.  We’ve been told by many parents and coaches that he’s a good player so it seemed imprudent to stop playing a sport in which he had potential to excel.

We also didn’t like the idea of letting him quit when things got hard. After much coaxing, conversation, and a push from his influential big brother, Aden agreed to play on the new team.

While he did well on the field, we had a rough time getting him excited about playing soccer.  I was proud of the way he soldiered on all fall, accepting new coaches and missing his friends to goof around with at practice. But by the spring, he was done.

Kids playing soccer

He didn’t enjoy going to practice and didn’t even care much about the games. We told him he had committed to his team and could not quit in the middle of the year. We also suggested that if he worked hard, he could probably play on the team with his friends again next year, which motivated him to continue.

He played hard in games, and only missed a few practices. Although he dreaded going, I felt okay pushing him because when he came off the field he was always invigorated and confessed he had fun.

When tryouts began a few weeks ago for next year’s team, I was nervous. My hope was that he made whatever team would get him to love the sport again.

As it turns out, at least 7 boys from his old team– including most of his friends– and several kids from his newer team have decided to play for various club teams in other towns, which they say offer better training.  There were once 3 teams for his age group, but the program imploded and now there’s only one.

When he heard this, Aden’s reaction was matter-of-fact and emotionless.           It’s over.

kids soccer in rain

Aden not playing soccer will make my life a lot easier: less scheduling issues, carpools, and equipment. I’ll have more time on the weekends and won’t have to  argue with him about going to practice.  He’ll have more play dates and down time. He could even expand his horizons and take on an instrument, which we’ve wanted to try.

So why am I so disappointed?

It’s difficult to watch your child give up something he’s good at. I’m not big on quitting, and it just seems like a waste. I hope he doesn’t regret the choice later, when it may be too late to catch up.

I know it’s probably time to hang up his cleats. This could be a turning point in his life when he discovers something he enjoys more than soccer.

Both Wilson and I tend to agonize over decisions– many smaller than this one.  I can drive myself crazy with uncertainty and fear of remorse. But Aden has always been his own person, rarely influenced by people or drama around him. I envy that.

Quitting soccer was not a difficult choice for him. He’s already moved on. I guess I just have to catch up.