Five Issues by Amy Bingham

So I have some issues with my children. Jonah is days away from being four (reminding us every day of the incredible Spiderman birthday party that will occur attended by throngs of adoring friends, in a town to which he moved two weeks ago, and currently inhabits no family, thereby creating no pressure), and Noel is the ubiquitous 2 1/2 (and while, not knowing exactly what the word "ubiquitous" means, can quite convincingly use it in this sentence, since being 2 1/2 really is just synonymous with "anything goes" or "plum loco").

1. The Photo Issue. Why is it that my children are 100% incapable of having a decent picture taken of them? I try. I really do. Okay. I'm a pathetic photographer. The last year of my children's life is captured on about 12 photos. But I tell you what. . .when I remember to bring the camera along, this is what I get:








Now, it isn't fair of me to clump the two of my children together. Noel gets the raw end of the deal by association. When he's on his own, he's extremely photogenic. He usually will produce something like this, with little effort.






But Jonah. My heavens. I know I'm his mother, but I think he's one of the most handsome little boys roaming the earth. He's a lovely combination of long eyelashes, multiple dimples, big, brown eyes and plump limps, and when he's not snorting or sticking his tongue up his nose, he's just plain adorable. But without fail, I get out my camera, and EVERY SINGLE PHOTO looks like this:















or this:



I know I should get a new camera with a faster shutter speed, but then I think, "Well. . .I don't take that many pictures anyway. . ." It's a bit of a vicious cycle, my friends.

2. The Food Issue. I just cannot figure out why my children will only eat the four basic food groups: cheese sandwiches, macaroni & cheese, spaghettios and chicken nuggets. I don't know if you've met me & my husband, but we like to eat. So maybe I'm not culinary adventurous, but I'd rank my "I like these foods" list in the high three figures. And I've heard all of the theories. I'm so not even close to being ready for the Jessica Seinfeld "let's hide veggies in our food" stage, but have at least tried again and again the "expose your children to food 465 times" thing. Many a meal has gone untouched in this house and, well, I'll admit it. . .that annoys me. We have made progress. The other day, they both ate PORKCHOP, of all things. And a few days ago they each had two miniscule bites of chicken. Baby steps. In fact, two days ago, they ate brownie for the first time and it was LOVE! They ate with a ferocity only saved for. . .well, the aforementioned food groups! I was so excited just to have them exposed to something new that the next day, when they asked for brownies again, we went to the store and bought another brownie mix. This is becoming problematic. First, because who wants to go to the store every day for a brownie mix? and also, do I have any self-control when it comes to brownies? Did anyone ask why we didn't have any brownies left over from the previous day? Mom does not need a pan of brownies lying around the house all day, in case anyone asks.

3. The TV Issue. My younger son, Noel, is addicted to TV. Addicted as in the sense that it gets in the way of the rest of us living our lives. If we need to go to the grocery store, for instance, and turn off "Wow! Wow! Wubzy!" we then have to deal with a 20-minute temper tantrum before we can leave the house. I suppose it's my comeuppance for naming him after a TV character (my all-time fave "Felicity"). I named Jonah after a character in a book so. . .we can hope? Anyway, I guess I should feel guilty about it, but even I, the queen of self-induced guilt-trips, cannot bring myself to feel so bad. First, because Jonah is not addicted. He would rather do pretty much anything than watch TV, and I did nothing different when raising him. Second, we are also addicted to TV. Tivo earns his money in my house. What pot? Black? Kettle? How does that go? Third, and most importantly, people will tell you that children do not learn anything from TV but those people ARE LYING. Noel knew how to count to 20 when he was 18 months old. I'm not lying. Jonah learned to count from The Count on Sesame Street -- I don't know where Noel learned it from -- I can't be bothered to monitor his TV viewing, but I know it certainly was not me. Also, Jonah can count in Spanish. Thank you Dora -- it's the least you can do for being the loudest, most big-headedly annoying TV character that my children adore on the planet! Noel quotes TV shows constantly. . .ALL DAY LONG. Maybe he's singing a little ditty from The Backyardigans. The other day I put chapstick on his lips and he said, "Now I'm ready for my close-up!" What the what?!?!? Some may find this problematic. I think it's stinkin' hilarious. He has this thing where he tilts his head back and says "Shout: Wear it!" from Pinky Dinky Doo. It gets me every time. And heaven knows we need something to get us through the day.

4. The Perception Issue. I've been trying like crazy, ever since we moved here, to find Jonah some friends (see above mentioned "birthday party" and "self-induced guilt-trips"). This is not something that makes me comfortable. I LOVE (with capital letters, please note) my friends, but I don't like making new ones. I'm what we like to call an "introvert." So calling up random strangers and asking if they can come over for a playdate has been, to put it mildly, a bit taxing. But I do it. Because I love my son, and his extrovert personality that he inherited from his dad craves social interaction. . .and a really awesome Spiderman birthday party with lots of friends. We've had two playdates in two weeks with two really cute boys and moms who hopefully don't think I'm some sort of weird stalker. I think that's pretty good. Jonah, however, told his grandma that he didn't have any friends but, don't worry, mom is going to find him some. Um. . .what just happened? How did my son who can remember how to erect the 30 piece train set when I have to get out the instruction book FORGET that he has FRIENDS??? If my mom is reading this blog, she is surely laughing. I think she has complained about my own powers of perception (or lack thereof) for many years.

5 The Love Issue. I'm not going to lie. . .I struggle with being a mom. It may have something to do with the guilt thing or the introvert thing ("give me some space!") or the fact that I didn't really grow up around little kids or just raising two toddler boys who are 18 months apart. Sometimes I read blogs and I go away feeling horrible, because I'll never be that mom that does everything perfect or can even make it appear so from the outside. Motherhood has been and will be the hardest thing that I'll ever have to do. . .harder than teaching high school to freshman English students in an inner-city L.A. high school without working bathrooms. But I tell you -- I love these boys. It's amazing to look at your children and see that they're funny and smart and charming and think that you may have had a tiny bit to do with that. And I quite simply don't know what I'd do without them. I'll have to remember this moment, because we all know I won't have a photo of it.