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Christmas Traditions: Panda Day

Published on December 27, 2011 by Kelly Suellentrop4 Comments

What’s black and white and red all over? A panda in a Santa costume of course.

What? You’ve never heard of the Christmas Panda? Well, I feel pretty sorry for you. Because he’s awesome. He brings presents after Christmas, along with a feast of assorted meats and cheeses and grilled pineapple, mimosas, board game fun, and the option to attend the festivities in your jammies, if you feel so inclined.

Panda Day is part of our Christmastime tradition. It started a few years ago with my husband’s family as time set aside to celebrate just with his parents and siblings. See, both my husband and I are blessed (and usually not cursed) to have a very large chunk of our extended families here in St. Louis, which means Christmas Eve and Christmas day are practically scheduled down to the minute. So eventually we had the brilliant idea that it was really okay to celebrate part of our Christmas AFTER the actual day. And it has turned out to be a well-loved tradition. Today was our Merry Panda Day.

The “reindeer” that appeared in our backyard

On the way home tonight, I was thinking of all the Christmas traditions we are not only passing on to our kids, but also creating for our kids. I wonder which memories will stay with them, which moments are helping to write the stories of their childhoods? Christmastime is always an indelible chapter in those stories. We try so hard to create magical and perfect holiday moments for our kids to fondly remember. Sometimes those are the visions they hold dear. But sometimes magic happens even when we are not trying. For example, twice this month my kids spied a giant buck in our backyard. We are used to occasionally seeing does and their young, but hardly ever are we treated to the antlered version. And the coincidental fact that this buck made himself known so close to Christmas, and the fact that he could easily be mistaken for a reindeer by my kids, made for pure yule tide delight. Grace was sure it was Prancer checking out our roof for the best place to land on the big night. There is nothing I could have ever orchestrated to make her believe in Christmas magic more than that simple and perfectly timed sighting. Although I do think the phone call from Santa (a.k.a. our friend Bob) that comes every year does a pretty good job as well. There is always that perfect mix of fear and wonder in their eyes at the first booming sound of Bob’s voice on the other end of the line.

We would have the Christmas Panda call too, but well,…who the heck knows what a panda sounds like? That would be an awkward conversation. Besides, he is kind of lazy. He only brings presents to us, and often waits until the after-Christmas sales to do his shopping. Ah, the magic of Panda Day.

Christmas Traditions

Published on December 27, 2011June 23, 2012 by Kelly Suellentrop4 Comments

What’s black and white and red all over? A panda in a Santa costume of course.

“I Smell Poop”…and Ten Other Things I Rarely Said When I Was 24

Published on November 7, 2011June 2, 2015 by Kelly Suellentrop4 Comments

A few weeks ago I was recounting a potty training story to some friends over frozen yogurt. (This is how you know we are all moms: we could comfortably talk of poop while eating a smooth frozen treat covered with chunks of chocolate). I was, and still am, having issues with Michael not wanting to do #2 in the toilet. During this particular incident, he had pooped in his pants and then tried to clean it up himself. I guess I should give him props for TRYING to amend the situation; however, his version of cleaning up ACTUALLY meant making a bigger mess. A poopy mess…on the vanity of the bathroom, on the walls, on the floor, on the couch, even on his face and in his hair. All this took place while I was in the shower (because that’s when it always happens. I’m considering trying out the European method of bathing in order to head off more home disasters). As I emerged from my room, the aroma hit me with my first step into the hallway. “I smell poop,” was what I said. At this point in the story, my friend Niki started laughing and said, “Now THAT’S a blog post. I Smell Poop.” Well, Niki…I kindly thank you for the idea.

“I smell poop.” A simple phrase. Yet it represents how vastly my life has changed in the last ten years. (Though I might confess I uttered these words in college at some point, but surely with MUCH less frequency than I do now). The lexicon of my life has taken on different tones and subjects since my days as a twenty-four year old. And it got me thinking about other things that rarely, if ever, tumbled across my lips in those carefree days of my young adulthood:

1. Double coupons AND it’s on sale? YESSSSSS!

2. I’m not a very big fan of “Super Why.” I think “Word World” is much more creative. And have you watched “Sid the Science Kid”? That’s some good TV. But yeah, “Yo Gabba Gabba” is totally whacked out, yet I’m mesmerized by it at the same time.

3. Excuse me, I need to go pee-pee.

4. You get what you get and you don’t get upset.

5. I’ll just bring it to you at carpool pick up.

6. I have a wet wipe in my purse if you need it. Or I have sanitizing wipes…or hand sanitizer. Take your pick. Are you hungry? I also have a snack bag of pretzels.

7. That is a nice looking mini van. I’m so jealous.

8. Let’s go eat someplace where there is a playground…or some video games.

9. I am soooo gonna try that crock pot recipe.

10. I think I’ll spend my night off at Target. Then maybe Kohl’s or Michael’s, if I’m not too tired.

I could probably go on, but I have a big night ahead of me. I am going to try that aforementioned crock pot recipe and I am late for a big time art show. It is displayed on the walls throughout my house and consists mainly of pages out of a Barbie coloring book, but I hear it is very cutting edge.

Gratitude from Grief

Published on November 5, 2011September 3, 2013 by Kelly Suellentrop2 Comments

November. The official month of thankfulness. The promise of savoring sacred family recipes always serves as a cue to be mindful of my blessings. And a number of Facebook friends are posting things large and small for which they are thankful, one for every day this month. But yesterday something happened. Something that was like a bullhorn screaming at me to pay attention to all that is good in my life. Something that I wish had never happened, and would never happen again…to anyone.

angel child comforting mother — A powerful photo my friend posted on her Facebook page.

Yesterday, our friends Justin and Angie lost their four-year-old son Chase. Months ago, Chase contracted E.coli, which developed into something called HUS. It ravaged his poor little body. For a time, despite all that had happened, a miracle drug seemed to be giving his family and doctors hope for recovery. But his progress was short-lived, and soon there was nothing more the doctors could do. After a few weeks of being kept comfortable, Chase surrendered to his final rest. And now Justin and Angie must live in a world without him, after knowing how beautiful the world was with him.

It’s not fair. It’s not right. Pure and simple.

Being a parent, I can not help but try to imagine what this must be like for them. But I know anything I imagine can not possibly come close to the reality they are experiencing. My heart breaks for them, for Chase, who was robbed of his chance to live a full life, and for his five-year-old brother, who is way too young to have to deal with so much grief. The weight of all of that will sometimes envelop me. But then the relieving moment comes, like when you wake up from a bad dream, when you realize all is right in your own reality. And within my sadness for my friends, I find my ability to be thankful for my own blessings.

I am thankful that my two children are sleeping soundly in their beds. That I can kiss them and hug them. That we can read books together and I can watch them play in the backyard. Even that they can whine and pout and thoroughly annoy me, because that means that they are HERE…with me.

I must be honest in saying there is a pang of guilt in this, as if feeling this way is somehow an insult to my friends. But then I think the greater tragedy would be to have witnessed their tremendous loss and NOT find more reasons to be grateful with what I have, for however long I have it. Because the fact of the matter is, we just don’t know what our lives have in store for us. We can hope, we can pray, we can plan. But Justin and Angie did all those things, and I am certain that what they are going through right now was never on their lists of hopes, prayers, or plans.

So I am going to love as fully as I can. I am going to kiss my kids even when they don’t want me to. I am going to read them one more page before bedtime. I am going to remember what is truly important. I am going to realize the next time the kids ruin something in the house that I am lucky to have them, not whatever was ruined. I am going to listen when they laugh. And I am not going to wait until Thanksgiving to be thankful.

Rest in peace, little Chase. You gave your parents a lot to be thankful for.

A Worthy Price to Pay

Published on September 9, 2011September 3, 2013 by Kelly Suellentrop3 Comments

Before my daughter started kindergarten last year, my husband and I had the discussion that I am sure a lot of parents have: whether to send her to public school or to a Catholic parochial school. In many ways, it was an agonizing decision. But truth be told, I think we both knew what our answer was going to be before we even started the discussion.

I would like to start by saying that first and foremost, I believe in SCHOOL…whatever form it takes. Education is one of the most important tools we parents can give our children. And my husband and I knew we were in a good position for this. We live in a fantastic school district AND our parish parochial school is very impressive as well. So this really was not a question of where our kids would get the best education. We knew we would be happy with the curriculum and standards of either school. Besides, learning is just as much about what the student and the parents put into it as it is about what the school offers.

But there is that little issue of tuition. That was really where our biggest stumbling block occurred. When you make a side by side comparison of free education with an education that comes with a fairly sizable price tag, it is hard to ignore the difference. Catholic school tuition meant sacrifice for us. The question became, is that sacrifice worth it? When it really came down to it, we thought it was.

It is sometimes hard to explain to people who do not understand why we would choose to pay for Catholic education when we could send our kids to a wonderful public school for free and supplement their religious education with PSR (Parish School of Religion) classes once a week. But it is the same reason I chose to take a teaching position at a Catholic high school over a better paying one at a local public school. It just felt right.

It felt right for the development of my children’s spiritual lives to be a natural part of their education, that God can be part of the equation in any subject matter. After all, He is part of the whole equation in our home life. Does it not make sense that He be a part of their educational life? I am not going all “creationism over evolution” here. But I do believe that God can be found in science. And it is nice to know that my kids will be able to discuss that in a classroom setting.

And there are other things that make me happy about sending my kids to a Catholic school. I had one of those little reminders just yesterday. As I pulled into the parking lot for pickup, I noticed Grace and her classmates were encircling the statue of Mary outside the church with a bunch of blue balloons. They were having a prayer service in honor of Mary’s birthday. And like any good birthday party, they all got goodies at the end, in the form of fruit snacks. Then the students dispersed to find their parents and head home. Grace walked over to me with her friend Sarah and I said, “It looks like you guys were having a little party over there.” They both smiled and replied, “Yeah! Mary’s birthday!” Then they high-fived each other. That’s right…they were giving each other some skin for the Holy Mother’s big day. The phrase “you know you go to Catholic school when…” popped into my head. But it was really just too cute for words.

Now that we have started our second year of Catholic education for my daughter, do we ever second guess our decision? I have to admit there are times when that tuition bill comes around and I literally grunt, and times when I drive past our public elementary school and envy all that free education happening behind the doors. But other than that, I can wholeheartedly say we have been so happy with the decision we made. Grace’s school has lived up to every expectation we had, and I feel good that I am giving her (and eventually Michael) a similar educational story to the ones my husband and I had…which we actually really loved and appreciate to this day.

DSCF5722 — Grace's First Day of Kindergarten 2010

Oh, and I have not even BEGUN to sing the praises of those plaid uniforms. Let’s not even mention how adorable Grace looks in it. The fact that I can avoid the battle of the wardrobe every morning might just be worth the tuition alone…we certainly have enough battles to fight without that one rearing its head. Oh, how my gratitude to the Catholic school system swells…

Damn Is for Beavers

Published on July 19, 2011January 14, 2014 by Kelly Suellentrop4 Comments

With every milestone a child reaches, there are joys to look forward to as well as fears to dread. When a child begins walking, a mother will look forward to a whole new world of activities they can do together. She will also dread skinned knees and searching for her child who has wandered off in Target. When a child loses her first tooth, a mother will look forward to spinning tales of the Tooth Fairy and seeing the excitement when her child wakes up to a dollar under her pillow and “fairy dust” on the floor. She will also dread the future payments to the orthodontist when her child’s permanent teeth come in crooked right off the bat (this one is hitting close to home at the moment). When a child begins to drive, a mother will look forward to a little freedom from carpool duty and pick up from practice. But she will also dread speeding tickets, fender-benders, or something worse. And when a child begins talking, a mother will look forward to finally hearing the words I love you, along with all the other wonderfully charming things kids say. She will also dread all the not-so-charming things that will inevitably accompany them. Like “damn it.”

Michael is a few weeks into being three years old. I think by now it has been well documented that three is the new two…in terms of being preceded by the adjective “terrible.” A few months ago, Michael went through a tremendous language explosion, and almost overnight, he started sounding more like a “kid” than a “toddler” when he talked. And as it must surely go, he now also has the humor of a kid, and we all know what that means: potty humor. Oh , the number of times a day the child inserts the word “poop” into a sentence is staggering, and it is always followed with hysterical laughter. My new catch phrase has been, “Excuse me, but poop is for the bathroom.” Of course that has not stopped him in his potty talk. Now, every time he says the word “poop” in a random fashion, he just adds, “poop is for da baffroom.” Apparently he sees it as more of a disclaimer than a deterrent.

christmas story soap in mouth — “Oooh Fuuudge!” What punishment is worse than the guillotine? Hanging? The chair? The rack? The Chinese water torture? Soap in the mouth, of course.

But I can handle the poop talk. It’s part of being a kid. I get it. And I can also handle his driving need to make people laugh (namely his sister) by saying, “Shakin’ my boooooty.” What I can not handle is that he has started saying, “damn it” when he is angry. I would like to blame the indiscretion on “kids at school,” but let’s face it. Preschool has been out for two months now. I hate to admit it, but I know he has heard it come out of my mouth…never at him or his sister, but there have been times it has freely fallen from my lips. And now I’ve created a problem for myself to fix.

Grace also went through a small “damn it” phase around the age of four. Overall, I’ve been lucky with her. She’s never been much of a potty mouth. So I thought back to what I did when she suddenly found a fondness for this “bad” word. I did not want to make a big deal about it and give it more power than it had, but I also wanted to make sure she knew it was not an appropriate thing to say. So I figured I would give her a funny alternative that would surely be more enticing. Very casually I said to her, “You know, how about instead of saying ‘damn it,’ we say ‘oh pickles.’” Well she seemed to like that, but it was not always so easy to remember. I recall one time I could hear her in the kitchen. She had spilled some water, and she whispered, “Oh damn it…I mean, pickles.” A minute later, she came up to me to confess: “Mom, I said ‘oh pickles,’ but I was thinking ‘damn it’“. Before I knew it, “damn it” just kind of disappeared from her vocabulary.

I am hoping the same will happen with Michael. In some ways, he seems a bit more stubborn than Grace, which I did not think was possible. But I know it is just another small battle a mother must fight, and hopefully if I teach my kids what is right enough times, they will eventually choose wisely. All in all, I guess a little “damn it” is not so bad, especially considering most of what comes out of Michael’s mouth is worth smiling over.