If You Can't Be Kind, Be Quiet

Originally I was going to title this post, "People Are Annoying".  Isn't that the truth.  Last week I had a troubling conversation with someone as I was getting ready to head home for the weekend.  This person, we'll call her Charlotte, is an acquaintance with whom I occasionally exchange greetings and comments about the weather.

A friend and I were speaking of motherhood when Charlotte joined us launching into a sermon about why women over 35 should not become mothers.  "They just don't have the energy to properly raise a child.  A women in her fifties cannot parent a teenager.  It's physically impossible.  What seems like a good idea at first, is definitely not because her body will just give out and leave the child fending for himself while she is on the couch trying to survive menopause."

Huh.  Talk about taking all the air out of the room.  There wasn't much to say in response to her strong feelings.  Maybe she speaks from experience but I hate to think that her words are gospel.  Of course I'm tired much of the time.  I attribute that to working full time AND being a full time mom without a nanny/housekeeper--not to being a mom who had her children after the age of 35.  For heaven's sake, people over fifty run marathons, Fortune 500 companies and the country.  It may take better nutrition, regular exercise and salon treatments but then isn't that best practice for anyone, regardless of their age?

People who say it can't be done, should not interrupt people who are doing it. 

-George Bernard Shaw

But wait, there's more.  In a defensive moment, I whipped out my phone and started showing photos of the hands-on activities I do with my boys.  Charlotte made a comment about how big my sons are getting and then asked, "Do they have the same father?"

What is that sound when someone yanks the tape out of a recorder?  That's what I need to type here.
 Did I mention that Charlotte and I are simply acquaintances and have never even shared a one to one chat over coffee?

Who looks at a mom's photos and then asks if her children have the same father? What an incredibly tacky question to ask.  It's not less rude because I conceived my children via a medical procedure.  Since Charlotte is clearly not of childbearing age, she's not asking for information while on her own family-building journey.  She's simply being nosy.

I was so shocked at this woman's effrontery, I simply nodded my head to answer her inquiry.  If I could rewind the tape (you know, the one I yanked out earlier) I would explain that my children do not have a father.  The same genetic donor made each of their lives possible.  I have never pretended anything else.  Beginning, middle and end of story.

Shaking her head slightly, Charlotte went on to make the unoriginal comment "it is a different world today."  Yes.  Yes it is.  I won't be the last person she meets whose family came together in a new and different way.  She needs to know that the nontraditional structure of a family does not give near strangers the right to ask impertinent questions.

But wait, there's even more.  Would you be terribly surprised to learn that during this very awkward interaction, Charlotte also made a Vince Vaughn comment?  As in that Dreamworks' masterpiece I wrote about here.  Let me tell you, once someone goes there, they have lost any and all credibility in my eyes.  Mentally I just cut them off.  They don't exist for me anymore.  It's not worth my time to sink to their level.  Because that would be exhausting.

High School, Football, Parties...oh my!

No we haven't fast forwarded ten years since my last post.  I may not be prolific but I do try to update this blog more often than that.  In order to make sure I remembered the three topics I wanted to address in this post, I typed the title and then went about our usual busy day hoping to return in the quiet of the evening.  That was three days ago.

Around that time, the boys were left off the guest list of an event many of their friends (and their friends' parents) were invited to.  No one rubbed it in our faces, in fact, at least one child was told to be discreet about the party plans.  I found out anyway because well, it's almost impossible for a seven year old to be discreet.   I'm fairly certain that the reason the boys and I were not invited is because I don't have a husband.  It was definitely a couple 'n kids type of evening. The good news is that my sons had no idea their classmates were meeting up.

I'm not sure why I cared about being left out--I had other plans for the evening anyway.  I guess it's just human nature.  As soon as I realized what was going on, I sent a friend a "can you believe this?" text.  She commiserated with me and I felt instantly better having connected with someone who gets it.  Later I mused that this incident reminded me of high school and how those years would have been so much better with a smartphone and the ability to text a good friend.   One thought led to another and I found myself wishing I had the friends then that I have now.  High school would have been a lot more bearable.  If only one could merge time to get the right people in the right place,...one would always feel loved and supported instead of lonely and left out.

Then I realized that a) I'm no longer in high school and b) those wonderfully supportive friends I wish I had when I was 15?  I have them now and they're terrific!  I didn't know them in high school, but I know them today--I'm honored and blessed by their presence in my life*.

Who needs a bunch of party invitations anyway?  Even without a big Superbowl bash on our agenda I am excited to share this great game resource with my boys.  I found these football printables on the 3dinosaurs website.  I've never explained the game of football, at least not in any detail, to my sons.  I'm hoping to use some of the activities in the Extra Pack (download #4) as they are geared toward older children.

Speaking of older children, birthday plans are coming along.  I'm grateful for the comments on last week's party post.  Sometimes I get weary of being the only adult around here...constantly putting my foot down and the ensuing tantrums.  The unpleasantness isn't enough to make me give in to my children's every wish and demand, but it is enough to cause me to procrastinate with less than Disney-esque news.  After reading the comments, I felt truly supported.  It sounds funny, I know, but it seemed there were all these moms in cyberspace who "had my back".  I knew when I told my boys that big venue parties were off the table, I could survive the disappointment (as would they) because other moms were standing by expecting me to do the right thing (as was I).

If you posted a comment, thank you!

I've yet to send out the invitations but I did tell the boys that they could each have 5 boys for a special lunch at a fun "theme" restaurant.  No party rooms, no host or inflatables, just a table of friends and good food.  My heart sank when Henry asked, "and then we go to the real party, right?"  I explained that this would be the real party.  In fact, I had to explain that concept a lot over the weekend.  It's slowly sinking in and the boys seem like they'll survive.






*I'm also quite thankful for smartphones (something we never dreamed of in high school).  They make connecting with friends easy even though we are scattered far and wide with our children.

Kids & Kairos

What gets me through the hard times?  This Momastery post, for one, explaining why it's okay to not to carpe diem.  Here's the video.  There are some weeks when I need to play the first three minutes of this clip in the morning and the evening to get through the tough times.  

Speaking of tough times, as so often happens in my parenting experience the valley that was Thanksgiving weekend has been followed by higher ground and better times.  Thank goodness.

My kairos moment this week?  It came on a school night, late in the evening....  

Since his younger brother protested so strongly, I thought Henry must surely be too old for this bedtime story.  I was wrong.  As I read the second to last page, he said sleepily, "It's like you're reading poetry, Mom.  Just not the rhyming kind."

There were other moments, too.

To show me how sorry he was for his atrocious behavior, Liam made me dozens of cards with hearts and then spelled my name using K'nex pieces.  

 Henry brought home this fun drawing:

 

We had a civilized meal with no french fries in sight. 

and

Our breakfast with Santa tradition remains happily intact.

The darker it gets, the brighter the stars shine.  I was able to appreciate these kairos moments so much more having gone through the mess that was last week.   Finally--something to be truly thankful for.

A Tale of Two Holidays

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.  Well, actually just the worst BUT you would never know it from the photos I took.  You can thank Flat Stanley for them.  If it weren't for Henry's 2nd grade assignment, believe me, I'd have deleted all evidence of this weekend.

Here we have a nice photo of what I had hoped would become a day before Thanksgiving tradition:  a family movie in the afternoon.  It is only the second movie I've taken the boys to see; I thought it would be fun.  What you can't tell from the photo, is that Liam had been having a six hour meltdown, complete with shoe throwing (at Henry's head) and name calling (at me for forgetting his water bottle earlier in the day).  By the time we arrived at the theater, I was exhausted and out of consequences.  (I had paid for the tickets the day before--otherwise, we would not have left the house that afternoon.)  Henry spent the entire movie with his head on my shoulder.  Liam spent it scouring the floor for popcorn and candy.  He considered it a bonus when he found a wad of gum.

Thanksgiving morning did not dawn well.  The boys were already fighting before I left my bed.  I decided to ignore them and carry on with my culinary plans.  

They refused to touch these.  Except for the candy corn of course.  The rest, they said was "gross".  How can they be gross?  They were pinned over 900 times!  Never mind--isn't this a great picture of Liam coloring the Thanksgiving tablecloth?  

We didn't actually eat at home. That was never the plan this year.  We were supposed to go to a restaurant.  I made reservations four weeks ago.  During the hour long drive to pick up Grandma, she called to say she wanted to stay home.  So as you can see from Stanley's happy countenance, we spent this holiday in a tiny senior apartment.  All four of us.  There really was only room for Stanley.

No worries.   Tomorrow is another day.  In fact, the next day I planned to cook traditional Thanksgiving fare while the boys set up the tree with Grandpa.  The meal turned out okay but the boys wouldn't touch any of it because it wasn't served in paper cartons with ketchup packets.  They also tried to take out the seven foot tree by lobbing various articles of clothing at it from the upstairs landing.  Then they broke two nutcrackers, three ornaments and a string of lights.

While waiting for the four course dinner they had no intention of eating, the boys indulged in healthy finger food.  They were so excited, in fact, that they hid olives under the sofa cushions.

There are no photos of the worst thing that happened Friday.  After clearly and concisely being told NOT to touch a birthday gift for one of Henry's friends, Liam waited until I was outside, then brought a stool over to the cabinet, climbed up and grabbed the gift.  He tore into the package and lost some pieces.  I found the evidence just two minutes after tucking him in for the night with hugs and kisses.  I don't think I've ever been so mad at him.  Never.  Ever.

I was up until midnight, washing dishes, sweeping up ornaments and fishing crudité from under the couch.  I cried myself to sleep.

I woke up with red eyes just in time to take Henry to his swim lesson.  Finally, some good news!  Henry completed his fourth level and is moving up to the "Dolphin" lane.  It's a wonderful accomplishment.  I was so proud.

Seconds after I took this photo of him reading his award badge, he informed me that he doesn't want to go back to lessons next week. Or ever.

It was around this time that I decided we had plenty of Stanley photos.  There really wasn't any point documenting the rest of the weekend.  Besides, I had a professional portrait appointment for the boys on Sunday.  I was looking forward seeing them dressed in their best with big smiles on their faces.  At least for fifteen minutes.

It was with that thought that I put on a happy face Saturday afternoon.  It was warm enough to work outside on the house decorations.  As I was stringing lights and tying bows, Liam played in the garage.  He didn't play catch though.  No.  There was no catching involved when the tennis ball he bounced on the wall hit him in the left eye. 

So much for our holiday portrait.  I know purple is a festive color but it doesn't work with the background I picked out.

Besides, I don't need a $259 package of professional prints to remember this weekend.  I'm trying hard to forget it ever happened.

More Ups and Downs than a Hayride in October

It's still the busy, stressful season at work.  I've always said that once I get through Thanksgiving the rest of the school year is a breeze.  These first fifteen weeks are brutal so I try to make the most of our weekends.  That means spending as much time as possible outdoors.  I find myself craving nature--even on the chilliest fall day, I want to be outside in open spaces, preferable with a view.  It's the fastest way I've found to disconnect from Monday-Friday stress.

I'm not sure how much outdoor activity there will be this weekend though.  We are all battling colds and Liam has an earache.  The poor guy has been enduring fevers for days and hasn't been eating.  We just got back from the pediatrician who diagnosed a raging ear infection.  Hopefully, the antibiotic prescription will mean we can both return to school tomorrow.  I know I have 3 days of work piled on my desk as well as 160 students and their parents worried about end-of-quarter grades.  Okay, not 160.  There are a handful of kids who don't really care what they get in seventh grade Geography.  (Good thing too, because I am no where near ready to upload grades.)

I'm glad I was able to be home with Liam while he was ill.  Glad to share some quality time and try my best to comfort him.  Yet, there's always that nagging worry though about my dwindling sick days.  I mean, it's only October and I've got two children in school--exposed on a daily basis to heaven-knows-what.  Some of my colleagues have 50 or even 100 accrued sick days at their disposal but my balance is in the single digits.  The difference?  Traditional family structure.  There I said it.  Two sets of grandparents, often ready and willing to watch a sick child while mom and dad go to work make a big difference when it comes to holding on to your paid time off.

Well there's nothing to be done for it.  I just keep keeping on, never taking a full day when a half day will suffice.  Almost never taking any pto for myself.  Last year, I went eight miserable weeks before seeing my doctor with what she called "the worst sinus infection I've seen in this practice".  (I filled the prescription and was behind my desk in time for the lunch bell.)

I seem to have gotten off topic.  Here are a few more October activities.  After Henry fed this docile cow, we changed our lunch plans.  Culver's was literally off the table that day.

anyone home?

preparing to make caramel apples

Henry has lost three teeth since starting second grade.  His beloved rhino shirt is getting too small (don't tell him that!) and he's doing math at the fifth grade level so I just love the way this last photo captures his little boy-ness.  I am not in a hurry for this guy to grow up.

Last but not least, I came across this great article with much advice that rings true.  I'm not exactly "new" at this since my oldest is seven, but sometimes I do feel a bit lost on a path everyone else traveled ages ago.  Posts like this help me feel less alone.  I thought I'd share 9-tips-on-how-to-prepare-for-new-older-motherhood

Speaking of older mothers....I think I'll go back outside and spend some quality time with one.

Finding Our Way

Our family of three went away this weekend--leaving behind the stress of school, commuting and a (seemingly) crumbling-all-around-us house.  We stayed at a hotel with a pool and brought lots of snacks to enjoy while watching television from well-jumped-on beds.  I made sure we spent lots of time outdoors and I purposely did not pack my tablet or the boys' iPad.

All this was in effort to "reset" our family life.  The daily frustration and petty annoyances have been building since mid-August.  I don't think anyone who observed us would describe us as a happy family.  In fact, I'm pretty sure they'd call Supernanny.  The stress and anger were spiraling out of control--it was something we three passed back and forth, back and forth until I became scared and desperate.  Something had to be done and I was pretty sure we all needed to get away from our physical surroundings in order to regroup.

The book Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids has been a tremendous help.  I started reading it last month but was able to concentrate more fully on the chapters while away this weekend.  I first came across this title on Chasing Rainbows, a blog by another choice mom.  I am very grateful to Shannon for sharing this resource that is changing our lives for the better.

There's also a companion website (or is the book the companion to the website?)  Either way Dr. Laura Markham's Aha Parenting has been a lifesaver.  I can't say I've perfected her strategies/techniques but I am constantly trying to apply them throughout the hours of our long, exhausting days.  Parenting is hard work.  Don't be fooled--it doesn't get easier when they are out of diapers.

When my vocal chords have completely recovered (I'm on day 9 of a full blown, textbook case of laryngitis) I plan on having a family meeting to introduce implementation of one of Dr. Markham's tips--fifteen minutes of special time, alone with each child, each day.  Even more difficult than scheduling this into our crazy busy schedule, will be getting the other child to understand he's on his own for fifteen minutes.  Henry may be able to handle it--with Liam it's going to be touch and go.  But it's worth a try...once I can fully explain it to them.

One piece of advice I didn't wait to implement was more hugs.  Dr. Markham recommends 12 per day.  Apparently humans need 4 hugs/day to survive, 8 for maintenance and 12 for growth.  I don't actually keep count, but I'd say I've increased the amount of hugs I give by about 200%.  I have stopped using the car line at their school; I park instead and get out with the boys.  That way I can sneak in another hug before we start our demanding days.  It is helping.  Sometimes they are "side hugs" and sometimes it's a kiss on the top of the head--I've yet to find a wrong way.  I think Liam has been caught off guard at the hugs he's received when his behavior is less than desirable.  He'll start whining about what I packed for lunch and say that I'm the meanest mom ever.  Before he can finish his complaint, I hug and kiss him.  He doesn't know what hit him.  At the very least, he loses his train of thought.

I'll finish up with a few photos from our outdoor adventures during this healing weekend.  I can only hope to keep the positive momentum going now that we are back to our suburban work/school routine.  I'm certainly going to try.

The boys spent hours swimming while I sat and read.  Talk about win/win!

If this post was any shorter, it would be a tweet

We have no furnace, I have no voice.  No heat,  no way to contact anyone to get heat.  (Not to mention, the huge expense of actually replacing a furnace.)  As a teacher, I sorely need my voice.  A very nasty cold carried it away and there is no sign of its return.  Tomorrow I will have to show a movie.  I hate doing that.  I'm not that kind of teacher.  I like to think that I'm the antithesis of that kind of teacher.  Now I have no choice.  I can only hope that 36 hours from now I'll be able to get back to business and that the temperatures will rise to the 70's as promised.

The boys are enjoying quieter mornings and evenings at home.  I can't nag them, much less yell at them.  When I do manage to utter a request, they whisper back their response.  As if we are in a library or at church.  Funny boys--they make me smile even when I can't laugh out loud.

That Went Well. Not.

The first week in the classroom for all three of the members of this family did not go as planned.  That's putting it mildly.  It's a bit disappointing as this is Liam's kindergarten year.  You only get to witness your child's first week in kindergarten one time.  And yet, I want to forget this week.

Oh, there was nothing catastrophic--just a series of moderately annoying situations.  A seemingly endless series...

It all started when I took my car to be repaired for what I thought was under warranty.  Not only was it not covered but a part had to be ordered and repair rescheduled.  While in the service waiting area, I bumped into a glass shelf, shattering it into a thousand tiny shards and earning the disgust of every single person in the room.  It really was a freak accident--I have a terrible four inch bruise to prove it.

And so the week began.

The flooring I ordered and paid for in July couldn't be installed until this Tuesday--my boys' first day of school.  I had to move every stick of furniture from the front of the house to the back and disassemble the dining  table.  The boys had their first day breakfast on the sofa with chairs and bookcases surrounding them.  When I came home from work I had to reassemble the table so we could have dinner.  The boys tried to tell me about their day but all I could think of was the amount of work that awaited me after they went to bed.

On Wednesday, Liam told me that a boy in his class pushed him down the stairs while going to lunch.  On Thursday, he told me that his teacher put him in timeout.  On Friday, my second grader asked his new teacher if he could use the restroom but had his request denied.  He wet his pants an hour later.

The back drop for all this is a late summer heatwave.  My air conditioning hasn't worked since July.  I check the thermostat before going to bed--last night it read 81 degrees.  And it's not just hot--the humidity has been well over 90% for almost a week.

Wait, there's more!  Apparently, mice don't mind a lack of A/C because after catching five tiny rodents--I've thrown my hands up--I'm ready to admit that there must be an entire colony living inside the walls.  Tuesday night (yes, that Tuesday)  I heard something scratching under the stairs.  It sounding like a kitten doing cartwheels.  How do you get a mouse out from inside a wall?  Even if I knew where to put the trap, it probably wouldn't work.   They seem to have figured them out and avoid them at all costs.  I need an exterminator and fast!  But when will I schedule that?  I certainly can't take a day (or even morning) off to have that work done.

I can't imagine leaving my classes with a substitute right now.  I have 160 students and the first five days together have been great, if not terribly productive.  It's time to hit the ground running and engage their minds!  I'm struggling to learn all the names.  Each year my goal is to learn every one of their names before going away Labor Day Weekend.

All three of us have been looking forward to spending time away for the three day weekend.  Now, I'm not sure it's going to go as planned.  I didn't successfully arrange for a dog walker.  Poor planning on my part.  I hate to press my friends for favors like that.  It looks like I will have to cancel the hotel and break the boys' hearts (it's just about all they talk about right now) OR take the dog with us--hoping for cool enough weather that he can spend a couple of days in the car.  I checked--the hotel will allow him in our room with a significant pet deposit.  It's just not how I envisioned "getting away from it all".  Oh well.

I'm certain there's something I've forgotten, but you get the idea....it hasn't been a stellar week.   Still, there have been bright spots here and there.  I really have to look for them, focus on them, but they've been there.  Times when friends helped out with a smile and coworkers went out of their way to say a few kind words.  Then there's the moment when, about to yell that we were late for school, I looked over and saw Henry teaching Liam to tie his shoes.  Or this morning in the car when Henry told me "Mom, I did geology in my mouth!"  (He informed me that salt and water had eroded his peppermint.)

I can't make this stuff up.  All I can do is write it down.

Long (but not lazy) Days of Summer

I am determined to continue blogging even if I only post once each week.  What I can't understand is how this was easier (I wrote two or three posts each week) when my children were much younger.  How did I have time to think and write when they were 1,2,3,4 years old and yet now at ages five and seven, I can barely find time to switch on my laptop much less compose thoughtful paragraphs.

I am constantly questioning myself this summer.  Are we spending too much time together?  What is the alternative?  Am I too hands-on and involved in their lives to the extent that they can't (won't) entertain themselves outside my presence for longer than five minutes, ten if I'm really, really  fortunate.  They're past the demanding stages,  the ages where they must be watched every moment for safety's sake...so why do I have absolutely no time to myself?

I'm sure with a few minutes of quiet time, I could analyze the facts:  I'm a single mom by choice who is not utilizing childcare (also by choice) this summer.  I'm blessed with a vocation that operates on the same yearly calendar as my children's school schedule.  How many working moms envy that?  I know I'm very fortunate.  But then again, there can be too much of a good thing.

We are in each others' spaces and faces all day long.  Then at night, I send the boys to bed and within 30 minutes, one or both are asking to sleep in my room.  We're not just together every waking hour--we are in the same room 24/7, it seems. And even spending all this time together, I don't accomplish my parenting goals.  (Case in point, today's goal was to read four picture books to Liam who is lagging behind in the library's summer reading challenge.  Thirteen hour day--zero books read.  Fabulous.  Just fabulous.

Don't get me wrong, we get out and do things.  We had a wonderful visit with close friends who came to visit the big city last week.  We spent almost twelve hours with them in Chicago.  I was beside myself to have a grown up to talk to while the boys showed off their best behavior for my friend's daughters.  The next day we traveled 100 miles north to an art festival.  Liam spent at least thirty minutes on one painting.  He had an air of complete concentration as he worked on that canvas.  A few days later, Henry had archery class and a swim lesson.  The following day we joined good friends at the neighborhood pool where Henry and Liam went down a giant slide and played for hours, rarely checking in with me.  (When they did, I sprayed them with more SPF.)  Being at the pool, seeing my children play with kids they know well and having another mom to talk to... well, it was the first time I've really relaxed this summer.

If I could step back and give myself advice, I'd tell myself to notice how relaxed the boys are when I'm relaxed.  I'd tell myself that often, if not always, my mood and reactions set the tone for this family.  I'd remind myself that Henry and Liam are smart, healthy, typical boys.  But they are young--they can only hold it together for so long.  They get tired but they don't want to rest.  Both  are very observant, sensitive at times and often brutally honest.  We converse at a fairly sophisticated level BUT that doesn't mean they are miniature adults.  And they certainly can't read my mind.

Step back, look at the big picture, are they having a happy childhood?  Get in close, notice the details...take a moment to be present.  

Yes, that would be my advice.  Now if only I'd listen instead of questioning and criticizing we'd all be a lot happier this summer.

What a different a week (or so) makes...

 Was it just this time last week when I was looking forward to a Family Fun Weekend--complete with a hotel stay and awesome pool?  It would be an understatement to say that things did not work out.  Oh, the pool was lovely and our room was very comfortable.  It was the company that disappointed.  I can say that.  I'm their mother.

We had a perfect storm of bad behavior.  The boys took it upon themselves to leave all manners, common sense and self-control at home.  In fact, they were delighted to do so.  I won't go into the ugly details of the three days but let's just say, when a stranger confronts your five year old for spitting in his brother's face while you pay the restaurant bill, you've hit the bottom floor in the discipline department.

Things went from bad to worse, to even worse than that.  How a five and seven year old can muster so much disrespect for one parent, I'll never know.  They demanded things right and left, acting entitled to their every whim and NOT taking no for an answer.  I'm embarrassed by how often I resorted to threats even after that tactic showed itself to be useless.  (By the way, how entitled does my five year old act?  As if on cue, he just  came out of his bedroom and told me to buy him an iPhone because "then I'll be good".)  

I've always set limits, created routines and followed through with consequences.  Don't those things guarantee positive behavior in offspring and peace in the family home?  Apparently not.

It has become painfully clear that I need to make major changes.  If my children do not respect me or my rules today, how will they act five years from now?  Ten years?  If they demand material goods at every turn, will they ever be happy with our modest lifestyle?  Won't every day, every interaction be filled with conflict and disappointment?  To be perfectly honest, what I experienced this weekend really scared me.

Sometimes sheer, abject terror is a good thing.  In this case, it spurred me to action.  I have vowed to read three books this month:

• The Blessing of a Skinned Knee (Wendy Mogul)
• How to Talk So Kids Will Listen & Listen So Kids Will Talk  (Faber and Mazlish)
• The Five Love Languages of Children (Gary Chapman)

I have also implemented a behavior system, complete with rewards.  I absolutely hate these things--let's just be clear on that from the beginning.  After 18 years as a special education teacher, the last thing I want in my home is a green-yellow-red traffic light, sticker charts and a prize basket.  I think I'd rather have a colony of ants.  Oh, wait, I have those too.  

Prize choices after 24 stickers (approx. 2-4 weeks)

Chore Charts (we already had those), Lego pieces for the traffic light colors above the dreaded sticker charts.

Lastly, I have completely changed our calendar for the summer.  I had dreams of doing everything in here (and more).

Now I realize that if I want the boys to practice self-control we are going to need to stay home as much as possible.  Summer attractions, amusement parks, even retail excursions (okay, especially those) are full of temptations to act out, demand more and succumb to the constant assaults on their little senses.  I've taken a GIANT step backwards here.  We are going to stay in our house/backyard as much as possible.  There will still be lots of challenges but I'm hoping by playing a smaller arena for a couple of months, there will also be successes.  The boys need to have some positive behavior experiences here before we take our show on the road again. 

This was not an easy decision to make.  As a single mom, there is no one to relieve me in the evening so I can go to a store or a restaurant.  If I think it's best that the boys not see the inside of Target or Red Robin for a few months, that means I don't go those places.  At all.  And I don't like staying home.  I don't like eating/preparing every meal at home.  I like shiny new things and good food.  But if I'm asking my boys to stay away from those, they are out of bounds for me as well.

To ease the transition, I've stocked up on library books.  Although we are staying home together for the foreseeable future, the boys and I will still need our space.  I plan to escape into one of these historical biographies while the boys play throw build throw play Legos.

This weekend I felt as though my family were on a precipice.  I was afraid we would fall so far that we'd be lost forever in a place of conflict and negativity.  How could this be happening to someone who so intentionally wanted to build a happy, loving family?  I haven't been this scared since I came home alone with my first newborn.  I met that challenge.  I will do everything I know how to meet this one as well.


If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do matters very much.

--Jackie Kennedy

Three Days to Remember

We had a wonderful three day weekend---I think it was more fun than spring break this year.  I took the boys to the zoo, a birthday party and then, the icing on the cake?  A stay home day on Monday.  Their favorite!  Full disclosure, we did venture out to the dollar store.  Truly a great place because I can say "yes" to a lot of purchases --unlike Target or the mall.

The school year is winding down.  I've truly enjoyed teaching seventh graders this year, although the past week has been a bit bumpy.  I haven't had behavior issues all year and yet in the past five days I've seen much disrespect (and worse!).  I feel like the finish line was in sight and then it all fell apart--management wise.  I wasn't really prepared for it and had let my guard down because the students had been exemplary up until now.  Well, at least on most days.  No one is perfect--especially during transitions and it helps to remember 

I hope that my teaching spirit is renewed over the summer and that I can come back and greet my new students with energy and optimism.

In other news, I plan to read as many books as I can this summer.  Most will be anthologies or light mysteries (a la Janet Evanovich).  I need to be practical and make sure my literary choices can stand frequent interruptions.  And with two boys underfoot all summer, I do mean frequent.  Sometimes it takes 15 minutes to finish a paragraph.  I'm currently reading the much lauded All Joy and No Fun by Jennifer Senior.  I recommend it both for its content and its ability to stand up to being put down.

Speaking of no fun, I have to go turn off the lights upstairs for the fifth time tonight.  I'm not sure bunkbeds/shared bedroom was the way to go...

I was online too much this week

Does this tree have WiFi?

But according to this blog post (on Chasing the Gerber Dragon), it's okay.  I must admit, I was one of those moms who looked askance as texting, Swyping and Facebooking went viral on the playground benches.  Of course, I was peeking at my phone, shielded from view in my purse, looking for the latest deals on Cartwheel. Or I would wait until we got back to the car-- the boys buckled in, the engine idling while I updated my FB status or checked to see if anyone liked my latest Instagram photo.  

What I took from WottaDoll's post was that it's not an either or situation.  As moms, there is never a time when we are not taking care of our children.  And sometimes, just sometimes, we need to take care of us while we are caring for them.

That being said, I know that one day soon I will attempt to disconnect from all this instant information.  It's too much.  In some ways I would have been a better mom if I had had my children before Facebook, Pinterest and the daily onslaught of Groupon emails.  I remember the days when the only screen I saw after 6pm was a television.  Friends, Frasier, Law & Order.  And anything, absolutely anything, on BBC America.  Those were good times.  Now I duck out of the room so my boys won't see how much handheld screen time their mom pursues. (Between you and me, I don't actually have to go to the bathroom 11 times each day.)  

Yes, if I know what's good for our family, I'll go on an internet diet.  

Contemplating life offline

But wait--there's so much good information out there!

This brain research explains why kids, especially boys--especially boys who struggle to read fluently, should learn cursive handwriting.  I wish I had knowledge of this when I taught special education students at the elementary level.

As someone who earned a graduate degree in child development, I couldn't help but applaud every few seconds while watching Dr. Megan Koschnick explain how Common Core standards are encouraging unsound educational practices.  (I could have done without the snapping gum, but maybe it helped calm her nerves in front of a large audience.)

Then there's the fact that I'm an SMC with nary a villager in sight.  What I do have is the wisdom of women who, though I'll never meet most of them, give me exactly what I need, when I need it.  Their words of comfort come from blogs, nonprofit support organizations, message forums and yes, Facebook.  Also helpful was this paragraph from I Need to Get Away on the Mothering in the Middle:

What is not talked about is that older moms are out of phase with their life cycle – traditionally their children were at university, leaving them free time to reinvent themselves, go back to school, take pottery or tai chi. But with young children still needing driving to their own hobbies, these mid-life moms are caught in a crunch. 

After a long day at work, followed by rush hour commuting, two different daycare pick ups, four bags unpacked, two folders looked at, dinner made, dinner refused, teeth brushed, stories read, bed refused, I really, really need to connect with women who understand what it's like.  Women who have BTDT.  Unfortunately, most of these women live in different time zones.  Cue Google Chrome.

Even if I wanted to, and I think I want to, I can't stop cyber reading and writing cold turkey.  I just applied to a graduate program at a distant university.  Unlike my first graduate degree which was completed by traveling to a college classroom twice each week, this program is 90% online.  I applied to take classes at-large.  After three courses, if I'm successful, I will enter the actual degree program.  It's exciting and terrifying at the same time.  I'm not sure it's possible as a single mom.  It's not exactly necessary either.  It's just that I have a nagging feeling that if I don't move forward, I'll be run over.  Vocationally speaking that is.

What information do you access online that you can't do without?  Maybe I'll look into those sites.  Not today though.  I'm certain I've had enough bytes and pixels.  I'm off to find a rerun of Law & Order.



Okay, a few more bytes...my comments on other blogs continue to disappear instead of publish.  As evidenced above, I don't really have tons of time to figure out why this is happening.  I hope I will eventually.  But for now, if you are blogging, I am reading.  (And oohing over those cute Easter pics, saying kind things to the screen hoping you will feel my cyber support.)

Too many thoughts to think....

...which is why this week's post is short and sweet.   There are just too many things swirling around in my mind to write a coherent, focused post.  Nothing major is going on--just thousands of little things.  Add to that a long holiday weekend that jarred our (okay, my) sense of routine and being weeks behind in grading middle school assignments....well, it's a wonder I can stop to write anything at all this week.  In random order, here's what is running through my mind at any given moment:

• Liam has one month left of preschool.  One month, that's it.  Forever.
• Henry hasn't had a growth spurt for a while--is he eating enough?
• Summer is around the corner, have I signed up for enough activities?  Too many?
• Why is the buzzer on the dryer so loud?  It's going to wake up the boys.
• Why didn't I make last week's test multiple choice?  157 short-answer papers to grade.  Might as well be a million.
• Who made a generous, yet anonymous gift to our family?
• Will I ever finish that scarf I'm knitting?  Why did I even start it?
• Should I go back to school?  Again?  Will I have job security if I don't?
• If I do go back to graduate school, I've narrowed my choices down to two programs.  Now what?  Meanwhile, deadlines pass.
• Why would I consider going back to school if I don't even have time to finish knitting the scarf I started in December?
• Henry took a bad fall at school today.  All his bandages will need to be changed in morning.  How will I do this and still get us out the door on time?
• Should I remind Liam that he has Show and Tell?  Will doing so delay us even more in the morning?
• Did I buy too much today at the Target 'store closing' sale?  Too little?
• Why would a Target store close?  What is this world coming to?

I haven't the answer to these or any other questions.  Truthfully, I'd rather just look at my new favorites on Instagram and call it a day.

How Not to Boil an Egg--My Messy Beautiful

My children won’t eat anything I prepare for them.  Okay, that’s an exaggeration.  But not by much.  Here is a list of things that I can be (fairly) certain they will eat:

• goldfish crackers
• potato chips
• cheese pizza
• ice cream (H only)
• grilled  cheese
• dill pickles
• black olives (H only)
• string cheese
• pepperoni slices (L only)

They will sometimes eat (depending on the ambient temperature, moon phase and color of their socks):

• apples, oranges, strawberries
• chicken soup
• Spaghetti O’s
• chicken nuggets
• hot dogs (but only if it’s an even numbered Saturday in Oct)
• broccoli (H only)
• french fries
• macaroni and cheese (from a box)
• cold cereal (no milk, no spoon)

And that’s it.  Every other thing I place in front of them at the dinner table is met with shrieks of protest.  The funny thing is I only present the dishes that have made it out of the kitchen successfully.  Believe me, you’d shriek too if you saw some of my many culinary “misses”.  I’m certain I am the only one who consistently produces inedible cookies from store-bought refrigerated dough.  I also make the worst tasting popcorn on the planet.  Popcorn.  You just get kernels and add heat; yet mine tastes like Styrofoam mixed with lighter fluid.   Oh, and you know those crescent rolls that come in a pressurized can?  I can’t work ‘em.  Not the can—I’ve mastered the press the spoon against the seam technique that I learned as a child at my mother’s knee.  I just can’t unroll and reroll those sticky triangles in order to create a dinner roll or hot dog wrap.  Seriously.  I just don’t have that kind of skill.

Now that Henry is in school, my inability in the kitchen is gaining more attention.  For example, last year his teacher sent home a note asking each child to bring a hard-boiled egg the next day.  Imagine my glee, when I found that we actually had a carton of eggs in our refrigerator and I didn't have to rush to the grocery store at 6 pm.  (After all it was dinnertime and the microwave was just about finished heating our leftover pizza slices.)  I dutifully boiled not one but two eggs for Henry to take to class.  As a teacher myself, I know that how important it is to have extra supplies on hand.  I was happy to help.

The next afternoon, I asked Henry what the class did with the eggs and if the teacher used both of his.  “No, she threw mine out.”

“What?!”

“She cracked them and they dripped all over her hands so she threw them away.”

And so it goes.  Again and again.   I’m one of the few moms at Henry’s school who is happy about the new “no homemade treats” rule.  Thank goodness for food allergies and tamper-evident packaging.  They make class parties much less embarrassing safer.

I've all but given up trying.  I've read the shiny, expensive cookbooks and tried all the gadgets; I’m done.  Those items are going in next month’s garage sale.  I’ll use the profits to buy more goldfish crackers.

This can also be found on 

http://momastery.com/carry-on-warrior

Sharing is Caring, Except When It's Not

Most (if not all) only children think the best thing ever is to have a sibling.  If only I had a brother or sister, my life would be so much better...goes the voice in our heads until well, maybe senior year in high school.  Then it doesn't really matter.  It doesn't come up much in the college years either.  The lack of a sibling seems to fade to insignificance as careers, homes and romantic relationships are forming in our twenties and thirties.  In fact, being an only child doesn't factor in much at all when you are an adult.  Except when you become a parent.  Then you realize that your child may not have a sibling--and it's easy to start reliving the longing again.  Never mind that a) your child is not you and b) giving your child everything you never had is not a guaranteed recipe for happiness (for either of you).

When I conceived my second child, siblings were created.  When I learned the baby would be a boy, brothers came to be.  I was certain they would be best friends and neither would spend an hour of loneliness during childhood.   Perfect.  All problems solved.  And then I brought the baby home.  I placed him on the sofa next to his toddler brother and wept with despair.  I was certain that I had ruined all of our lives.  There would be no private schools, no trips to Europe...nothing but diapers, laundry, dishes, pumped milk, clipping coupons and shopping clearance racks.

It took a few weeks for my postpartum mood altering hormones to settle down.  When Liam was about 3 weeks old, he looked into his big brother's eyes and intentionally held his gaze.   From that moment on I took second place--he was attached first and foremost to his big brother.  Of course he still smiled and cooed for me.  He still enjoyed 5,6,7 feeds in the rocking chair.  But when his brother was in the room, Liam wanted to interact with him and only him.  I marveled at the sibling bond as it developed.   This was a completely foreign, mysterious phenomenon unfolding before my eyes.

Many times in the past five years, I've been in awe over their relationship.  I'm so grateful for the blessing bestowed on our family.  A blessing of brothers.  Gone is the regret about backpacking across Europe with a ten year old or sending him to an elite academy.  Instead, at times, I'll catch myself imagining what Henry's life would be like as an only child.  Without his extroverted, risk taking little brother, seven year old Henry would be even more serious and adult-like.  Scheduling playdates and coming home to a quiet house with "nothing to do" would be the norm.  Would he fight early depression as I did?  I shiver at these "what ifs".  Never mind that someone once said, a) your child is not you and b) giving your child everything you never had is not a guaranteed recipe for happiness (for either of you).

So what does Liam get out of all this?  Hmmmm.  That is what I am starting to question.  Being an only child means I have no idea how to raise siblings.  Nice to figure that out five long years into the experiment, right?  There's been some real friction lately.  Some "go to bed now, Mommy is going to sit here with her head in her hands and hope you are asleep before she starts to cry tears of despair" evenings.  Some, "why did I think I could handle two?" moments.

It's become apparent that Liam needs more (or different) attention than he's been getting from me.  His behavior is quite distressing at times.  Right now I'm at the parenting point where I admit things are not going well and I need to do something different.  But what?  Yesterday, after a very trying evening that ended with us both in tears, I prayed for guidance.

This morning I chose to run my very necessary errands but to take Liam along.  Just Liam.  I gave him my full attention and as I did, it occurred to me that I rarely do that.  When I have both boys in the car or out and about or even here at home, Henry gets 80% of my attention and Liam gets scolded.  This is a really disturbing realization.  Can I explain it?  Sure.  Henry asks questions, really in depth questions all the time.  He wants to be shown things, given explanations.  He wants to know this, understand that.  Liam leaves his shoes in the middle of the kitchen or grabs candy off the high pantry shelf.  Liam stands on the sofa.  He pinches and sometimes bites.  He refuses to eat anything but pepperoni and Cheetos.  Of course he gets scolded.  But what if, just what if, Liam's incorrigible-ness was his way of adapting to having a big brother who gets most of Mom's attention?  What if the only way to get noticed is to do something I don't like?

The more Liam gets on my last nerve, the less I'm focused on his brother and the more I'm interacting with him.

Having time with Liam outside of Henry's presence does help, it seems.  But that's not practical as a solo parent.  Not on a daily or even weekly basis.  I need to find a way to connect to Liam even when we are not alone.  Easier said than done but I can't give up trying.  He's too precious to me.