Thanks For Hosting

Just a quick note.  Recently, my blogger friend Penney was gracious enough to be a guest here on Me Myself and Kids. She wrote about the impact the Connecticut Tragedy has had on her (

Today I am honored to be Penney’s guest over at her blog Authentic Life Journeys. I go off a bit on jobs SJ will never have. I hope it will provide you a couple of laughs. Check out My Son’s Future Calling: Guest Post for Authentic Life Journeys

The Great Communicator

Communication is the key to all relationships including marriage. I believe I am a good communicator. As I told you previously, I like to ask questions (, am a curious type, and sensitive, which you have probably noted from reading this blog.

So, you’d think I’d have the marriage thing down – right? I’m good with the children, willing to clean, and arguably handsome. And I am a willing and skilled communicator.


Sounds good doesn’t it? Alas, I am sorry to say there are some challenges in our dream world. Like all of you, I am very busy and strive to keep on a schedule in order to get things accomplished. So, my time for communication is limited. Even when it comes to my wife and children.


Now, if emergencies come up – BR is attempting to maim SJ, or SJ can not find the remote (he would definitely define that as an emergency), or my wife is considering ripping the eyes out of my son’s teacher – I make time. However, I try diligently to keep on a schedule and handle things in their proper time.

Picture courtesty of Google.Ahh - there's the remote. Emergency under control

                  Picture courtesy of Google.
Ahh – there’s the remote. Emergency under control

You can respect that – right? After all, it does make sense and permit for productivity. Generally this system works but lately a flaw has become more and more of an issue.


I tend to go to bed late – 11:30 pm — and wake up early — 5:30 am. Yadda, yadda, yadda, such is life. My wife, on the other hand, tends to complete her routine a bit earlier than me and likes to end her night by watching television in our room.  She’ll decompress in front of the television and ready herself to ease into a night of sleep (or at least pray that neither child wakes up and both sleep past 5).

By the time, I do my night time rituals – wash, brush, pray, etc. my wife is comfortable in bed and ready to turn off the light. She is tired from her long day and hoping to meet the sandman. I, however, am still revved up. And I want to talk (or other things, but let’s keep this rated PG). I want to communicate. I want to share. I want to listen. My wife reminds me, “I wanted to talk to you two hours ago, but you said you had work to do.” She’s right but that doesn’t change the fact I have now morphed into the great communicator.

So, these days half of our conversations take place while my wife is on the verge of sleep.  The conversation ends when she stops replying, and I hear her snores. Hmm, not such great communication is it? Well, at least we have date night.

Picture courtesy of GoogleHappy awake communicators - wouldn't that be nice!

                     Picture courtesy of Google
Happy awake communicators – wouldn’t that be nice!


My Son Doesn’t Hate Me

SJ is six years old. And he doesn’t hate me. However, he does have a limited need for me. This is not paranoia, woe is me sort of stuff either.


Have you ever heard of the Oedipus Complex?  Well, according to Encyclopedia Britannica (,

Oedipus Complex is a desire for sexual involvement with the parent of the opposite sex and a concomitant sense of rivalry with the parent of the same sex; a crucial stage in the normal developmental process.

The definition goes on to note that the complex takes place in children ages 3-5.

I get this. And not just because I spent a couple of semesters majoring in Psychology. It makes sense. Children look up to their parents, and they may be especially intrigued by the parent of the opposite sex.

In addition, most kids go through a phase where they are closer with their mother. However, I repeat, SJ is six years old. He should be beyond this stuff. He should judge my wife and me on our own merits. I am not asking, nor do I want, him to pick me as his favorite. I want him and BR to feel comfortable, at ease, and loved in all ways with and by my wife and me.


Sure, moms tend to be more sensitive and understanding. Children recognize at an early age that moms are communicative, softer, gentler, and loving. Men tend to be more physical, rough and tumble, and playful. These are the stereotypes at least.

In many ways, the stereotypes ring true in our home. My wife is the one who will get the boys to talk. I don’t have the patience for this and figure they will tell me when they are ready. On the other hand, my wife is not at all the rough and tumble type. “Spin me! Throw me!” are the most consistent things my children say to me. They love when I throw them around, and I love to hear them laugh like only children can laugh. It makes me smile just writing that.

However, unlike the stereotype, I offer my children a great deal of affection. I hug them, kiss them, and say “I love you,” all the time.


Yet, SJ has limited use for me. He will choose his mother nine times out of ten. He instructs BR, “You go with daddy and I’ll go with mommy.” In fact on our hike the other day (, he directed me to go ahead and catch up to BR and he and mommy would walk together.

When SJ is upset, he goes to his room, shuts the door, and pulls the blanket over his head and cries louder than a 9-month-old who is teething. When I go to comfort him, he informs me, “I want mommy.” I try to reason with him but it rarely works.

So, my 6-year-old SJ is a momma’s boy. He loves his mom. That’s cool. I just wish he would give his affection to his dad too. I could use more than a begrudgingly, “love you, too.”


Father and son on the beach.courtesy of

Father and son on the beach.
courtesy of


The Joy of Ironing

Today, I have Tatiana of Wonderland by Tatu as my guest. I have been following her blog for a while and enjoy it very much.

Tatiana graduated from the University of Brighton, UK with a bachelors in Management & Travel and worked as the Sales Manager at her father’s travel agency for 8 years. She left the agency a couple months before her first child was born. Tatiana and her husband N. have two children. The family lives in the suburbs of Athens.

She began blogging last August 2012. Her original intent was to share her crafts and recipes. However, her life took a bit of a turn, and she now writes about more personal everyday topics and finds it therapeutic and cleansing.

In my previous (before kids) life, N. & I worked long hours and didn’t spend much time at home (apart from the weekends). Furthermore, the mess we created in a week was infinitely small in regards to THE MESS my kids create on a daily basis.

I am more than thankful for the cleaning fairy who comes once a week and tries to put my house back together. What she manages to do in 7 hours has earned my complete trust and utter respect. She has magic powers to make my house look impeccable. (By the way, please note if you are a friend feel free to visit us anytime. However, if you are a stranger and would like to be my friend, please schedule your visit us for Tuesdays after 3pm.)

Unfortunately her magic powers (and time) are used up before she has a chance to iron and therefore the much hated housework duty is left to me. I don’t consider myself to be an ironing geek or particularly talented in this field (my Greek grandmother would probably turn in her grave if she could see what I call ‘ironed’). So, I have decided that my time is too precious to waste on ironing everything, except for two things: N’s shirts & the family’s bedsheets (if you are an ironing freak please ignore the last sentence). You get the picture, right?

Woman IroningCourtesy of

Woman Ironing
Courtesy of

Being a stay at home mom and attending to my kids 24/7 has made me reconsider many things. In fact, sometimes I feel like a totally different person. I have matured and evolved as a person and my priorities have dramatically changed. Prior to being a mother, I was ignorant enough to think I had it all figured out because I had three adorable nieces whom I saw and spent time with for a couple of hours a couple times a week. HA! Please feel free to laugh. I couldn’t understand why Alex (my sister) was so absolute in denying me visitation rights when I came down with a cold. ‘So what?’ I thought to myself. Another thing I never understood was that there were times she wanted to flee the house and go do anything other than take care of her kids. ‘How could she?’ ‘They are so adorable’ I thought.

Well, I have stopped being such a-know-it-all considering motherhood bliss. Now, when reality punches me in the face, I often think back. You seem to know everything better up until the moment you go through a similar situation yourself.

I might not work anymore but I feel I am doing a pretty hard job at raising these kids 24/7. When I have to spend Mondays to Fridays practically alone (N. has been working a lot) I overdose on my kids. I am sorry but it is true. I need my time off. Everyone does. Therefore I wait for the weekend in full anticipation like any other working human being. I need to unwind and think of something else other than the kids. I never thought a time would come when I would say these words: ‘Sorry honey, I would rather iron.’