Yesterday I told the kids to go get socks. Of course this meant that they did everything except going to get socks. However, it is my favorite time of the year. I just love December. No it's not the festive holiday decorations, the food or the gifts. What good be better than gifts? Why good threats of course!
I headed over to them to remind them that Santa could see exactly what they were doing. He has elves everywhere! What I found though was my younger son (YS) with his shirt pulled up and his stuffed animal mouse* on his breast. My older son (OS) promptly informed his brother that he couldn't nurse his mouse. I thought he was going to state the obvious: YS is a boy. However, that's not what he said. He calmly informed YS that mice drink mouse milk not human milk.
"Mouse" is actually a large stuffed animal rat that we got from IKEA a couple weeks ago that YS has named "Mouse."
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Baby mice drink mouse milk.
I have always considered the car to be my friend. When I was growing up, many of my relatives lived anywhere from 2-4 hours away, one of our favorite summer vacation spots was an 8 hour drive, and even heading into Chicago was at around an hour from our North Shore suburb. The Big Giraffe apparently also spent many a day riding in the car. It never seemed like a big deal. I find many of my New England friends have a different perspective as to what makes something a long distance. No doubt the pervasive construction and the inability to "get theah from heah" stretch the miles. However, I know many people who consider a drive of two towns to be a roadtrip and others who consider family members far away if it takes more than a half hour to get to them.
Fortunately, our boys seem to have either inherited the roadtrip gene or gotten used to being strapped into a carseat. For the most part always been good in the car. Hmm...on second thought...Well, we did have a stint where I drove like a crazy lady by pulling over several times while driving on Route 9 because I had to repeatedly administer timeouts to stop OS from performing something called "Mommycise." Since that stage ended, things have been pretty peaceful. We have never really heard "Are we there yet?" In fact we prided ourselves on the fact that we could drive several hours in a row without DVDs or special kid CDs.
Recently though we've noticed a difference. To be specific, OS has started complaining about how long a trip is taking...after only twenty or thirty minutes. I couldn't figure out what the big deal is. Then I realized what the Big Giraffe and I were witnessing: the birth of a New Englander!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The length of the drive is based on the perception of the passenger.
My girls complain about time spent in a car as well. In fact the other day, Meenie was telling me her trip from our home to the corn maze was like 2 hours long (it was, in reality 15 minutes). Einey piped in with, yeah well my trip to the ecotarium took alllll day (which you know, 30 minutes, all day, same thing, right?). I guess maybe that's our problem? They are born and bred nth generation New Englanders. It's in their blood.
I have a serious problem with son's kindergarten curriculum. This week's class letter described how the kids had learned to draw turkeys. I was pretty impressed, since I was having trouble envisioning how I would draw turkey. Trying not to be too enthusiastic, I asked OS if he had drawn any pictures of turkeys today. OS looked surprised. I could see the wheels turning in his little mind. He had been so careful not to divulge any details of the day? How could I possibly have known about the turkey? He practically shrugged his shoulders in an "oh well" gesture and pulled out a drawing from his backpack.
It was really good! I practically puffed up my chest and strutted my feathers. I exclaimed over his drawing and praised it. Then I looked at it a little closer. What was on its head? Why did it have long brown curly hair? Was it a turkey in a Halloween costume? "No, Mommy. That's you as a turkey."
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Sometimes you are better off not knowing what your kids are doing in school.
Just hope that OS doesn't talk about home life in school. I've had many teachers say "don't believe what they tell you happens at school and I won't believe what they say happens at home".
I know that I been absent from the blogosphere for the last couple weeks. Don't you just hate the way real life gets in the way of blog reading? I'm kidding! Well, sort of any way. The past few days have gone well other than the fact that I have yet another cold. I think it's a combination of the fact that I had insomina even before the Big Giraffe was out of town, so I ended up unable to really sleep for about a week.
So, what has gone well? First, the Big Giraffe has been working tirelessly on getting our younger son (YS) to put the "r" on the end of the words like "car." The result is that YS thinks that Daddy is a lunatic and that it's great fun to ask Daddy questions about Mommy's "cah."
I also found our missing library book! Our older son (OS) is very into the solar system and the weather. As such, the Big Giraffe checked out two books on lightening for him (on my library card I might add). Although I liked one of the lightening books and all of the books about outer space, I was looking forward to returning the other lightening book...which of course had to be the one OS liked best. It provided a wide array of gory details about death and lightening. These are the parts of the book that require quick improv when you realize that in your absent-minded droning, you have just recounted tales of lightening chasing down entire families to strike them over and over again until they are all gone. Hmm...perhaps the sections weren't that bad, but they certainly detailed large number of deaths and warned us that it is quite likely that lightening will strike the same place repeatedly so you should never go back to the spot where lightening has struck before like your own backyard where your tree was struck last March. Do these authors have any idea how important it is to me to get my kids out playing in my backyard? It saves my sanity! I don't typically send them out in dangerous storms.
We had already renewed the library books once, so of course the final due date coincided with my week of insomnia/ I found all of the books that I had enjoyed, but I couldn't find the apocalyptic massacre storm book anywhere. It was neither with the other library books nor with the kids' regular books. I know because I culled through the entire bookcase looking for it. I figured that an extra day or two to find this book was well worth the 30 cents. I moved the couches and took out all the cushions. No luck. I even pulled the mattresses up from the boys' beds to see if the book had fallen there. Nothing. As long as the mattresses were up, I thought I would look to see if it had fallen under either headboard, since the headboards are bookcases. I looked under YS's bookcase without a problem. Then I got to OS's. Somehow my knee must have just hit at the right angle because the next thing I knew my knee had gone through the bunky board.
How on earth could fit into the category of things going well? For three reasons. First, denial. Second, as I proudly recounted during my parenting class later that evening, not a swear word escaped my mouth. Third, I was entertained by a similar story shared at the same parent group by someone named Balex Melliot, except that Balex told the group that her knee had gone through her kid's boogie board. Embarrassing for her to say that, but funny and entertaining for everyone who got to hear the story. One would have expected someone in the parent group to correct me Balex, but obviously they either truly believed she was nuts enough to let her kids sleep on a boogie board or assumed that they misheard "bunky" as "boogie" due to her cool Chicago accent.
The library told me that I had the option of either paying to replace the book, buying a new copy from Amazon.com, or filing a claim. The claim would unfortunately remain on my permanent record. I vaguely remember being threatened with stains to my permanent record in junior high school, but since I am not school right now, I don't know where they intend to write it. I was more affected by the sob story about budget cuts zeroing out the library's acquisition budget, so that they will buy no future books. Thus my loss would prevent any future residents of my town from ever learning about lightening. I went on-line seeking a used copy since the a new one was about $50. Between the bunky board and the book replacement, this library book was costing about $250! Do you know how many books on lightening I could have bought my kids?
Fortunately, I found the book in a suitcase (for when we go to Chicago this summer, Mommy) and now I'm only out about $200, which is better than being out 250.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Bunky boards are for sleeping, and boogie boards are for surfing.
Today was my younger son's (YS) Early Intervention speech evaluation. A speech therapist, a specialist in child development, and a social worker all conducted the evaluation. They confirmed that they were there to investigate my concern about YS's articulation. Good thing I called them because their results were very startling to me. Their breakthrough diagnosis happened right after the speech therapist held up a yellow car and asked YS what it was.
YS: It's a yellow cah. Alex Elliot (AE): See that's exactly what I'm talking about! He's not articulating car correctly. Speech Therapist (ST) (laughing): Yes, he has been dropping his "r's". AE: Exactly! He's not articulating correctly. ST: And he also adds r's to certain words. AE: That's right! Everyone started laughing. AE (horrified): Does he have a Massachusetts accent? ST: Yes he does!
Turns out the articulation problem isn't an articulation problem at all. It is really a Massachusetts accent! (The Big Giraffe insists that a Massachusetts accent is an articulation problem.) He also replaces l's with w's in some words, so he'll say "wollilop" instead of lollipop but will correctly say the word "lion." I was told that this is normal for his age. The speech therapist is coming back in two weeks to conduct a final articulation test, but she said that he seems absolutely fine. I think given a choice between speech from the land of "da bearss" and speech from the lack of "wicked pissahs," the Big Giraffe prefers the latter. Don't worry, Big Giraffe, we can all still hear your Long Island accent!
Of course, YS is not the only one growing up and having new experiences. The Big Giraffe and I went to a kindergarten readiness meeting at the public preschool this evening. It was for our older son (OS), not for us, which is fortunate. It is very clear that neither the Big Giraffe nor I would be ready for kindergarten if we had to start this fall. Show me a writing and craft table and hands down I would choose to play with blocks or dressup. Guess it's a good thing I was grandfathered in with my previous kindgergarten experience.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Growing up in Newr England is hahd.
our Belgian friends in the Netherlands also try to avoid their kids to adopt a dutch accent in vain and so does my brother-in-law who currently lives in a region with a totally different dialect then where he's from.
but they all seem to fail: kids pick up the local accents
Oh man... yet another reason to move back home to Chicago. Not that you and I have thick ones growing up in the north 'burbs, but my aunts on the South Side... they know the right name for fizzy drinks. Pop!!
It's Not Over 'til the Tonsilectomy Patient Screams
Things were going really well with my younger son's (YS) recovery. In fact they were going so well I even called the ENT to get his opinion on switching YS from Tylenol with codeine to regular Tylenol. I was advised not to do this at all. If I chose to do this, I was strongly advised to at least keep him on the narcotic at night since the nightime pain tends to be particularly intense for this surgery. Phiff! I also asked the ENT if it is normal to be completely unable to understand your child's speech after losing tonsils. He confirmed that incomprehensibility is a common side effect of this surgery.
Late the next afternoon, YS just lost it. Everything was making him cry. Then he started waking up in the middle of the night crying too. He said nothing hurt, so we thought that the series of meltdowns was just a fluke. Until the next night when it happened over and over and over again. I called the ENT who said that this was normal. Um, hello, in our conversation two days ago we talked about pulling him off the narcotic because he acted like he never had surgery. Turns out that this is also typical with younger kids who have this surgery. They act fine but then around day 7 they start to feel "referred ear pain" particulary at night. I was reminded that the recovery for this is a full ten to fourteen days and to expect this on each of the remaining nights. Except that YS is not waking up screaming in pain; he's waking up screaming that he can't find his toy beluga whale or that his nightime pullup is wet. Apparently that's part of the healing too, and regardless of what bothers him after he wakes up, the actual awakening probably probably results from ear pain.
All I know is that at midnight last night the Big Giraffe and I were searching for a two inch dinosaur that a hysterical YS just had to have. Nothing would calm him down. Then an hour later I was up soothing an hysterical YS who was upset that that two inch dinosaur had miracously appeared and was looking at him funny. Of course all the while I could barely understand YS so he was getting more and more frustrated. Then a couple hours later he was up again. Of course the bigger mystery is how and when our older son (OS) not only appeared in our bed but completely sprawled out all over our bed.
I feel just like I have a newborn again. Except that this time both of my kids appear totally fine in the morning and have way too much energy. You would never know that one of them had surgery. Hmmm...probably if you saw the Big Giraffe or me, you would guess that there had been a surgery in the family except that you would think that we were the ones who had undergone it!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Parents should not expect the behavior of their two year-olds to make sense after they have undergone surgery. Parents should also not expect the behavior of their two year-olds to make sense when they have not undergone surgery. Parents believe they should expect the behavior of the older siblings of their two year-olds to make sense, but they are mistaken.
Oh boy! Poor little guy and poor you! But I had to laugh a bit when you said the dinosaur was looking at him funny... At least he still has his sense of humour ;)
Sunday the Big Giraffe and I took the boys out for breakfast. There was a little bit of a wait, and the boys were tired and cranky. I could sense that a meltdown was about to ensue. Because I didn't want to yell in a restaurant full of people wanted to be the calm, cool and creative parent, I quickly racked my brains for a good distraction. Instantly I had it! Tis the season to be jolly! I played the Santa card.
I pointed out to my older son (OS) that there was an elf in the parking lot taking notes to report back to Santa. OS immediately went to the door to peer out in the parking lot and excitedly looked for the elf. Then our table was called. I tried to shepherd the boys over to our table. Tried being the key world. Our younger son (YS) began crying that he wanted to see the "elephant". Apparently he mistook my saying "elf" for "elephant". Of course then OS started protesting that he didn't get a chance to see an elephant in the parking lot either. My little plan to quiet down the kids completely backfired.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: An imaginary elephant is as difficult to find as an imaginary elf.
I meant to post yesterday, but I was just too tired. The rest of Tuesday was still eventful after my older son's (OS)encounter with the door and my encounter with yet another dose of mommy guilt. Because of the level of hysteria surrounding the evening's events, OS never got around to eating dinner; he hadn't been hungry when my younger son (YS) and I had eaten before the accident. Thus, it shouldn't have been much of a surprise when he woke me up at 11 pm to tell me that he was hungry. Since 1)I was feeling badly about his thumb 2)I didn't want him to wake up his brother and 3) I didn't want him crying, I went down to the kitchen and fixed him PB&J and hot chocolate. Let's be honest here. The only thing worse than OS crying because I wouldn't give him a sandwich would be him waking up YS with the crying because I wouldn't give him a sandwich and having two crying kids and my husband in another state. No matter how badly I wanted to go back to bed, it just wasn't worth it.
The quick dinner seemed to fix everything and a happy and full OS went to bed. Phew. The next morning he was in a good mood. He couldn't wait to go to school and show everyone his new band-aid. More specifically he said, "I'm going to tell everyone at school how you hurt my thumb in the door!" Great. Let's just add a social worker to the stream of workers that would be coming by to my house that day. Thankfully the Big Giraffe will be home tomorrow.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Context is everything.
I'll be single parenting for a few days coming up this month. Our day starts tomorrow with a morning drop off at grandma's at 6:30. After a 40 minute drive to get there... I like things so much better when Rob's home!
Sometimes when I look at my younger son (YS) I marvel at the way the world is so different for him simply because he is a second born. The Big Giraffe and I both are first borns, each with a younger brother. Of course we feel that it is best to be first born, but we admit that perhaps we're just the slightest bit biased and perhaps there are some advantage to being a second child! In all seriouness, it is amazing how much more quickly he has adapted to information, toys and imaginative play by using his older brother as a role model. Of course this doesn't always manifest itself in the best way. Take today for example while YS and I were sitting in the small bleacher area of OS's Tae Kwon Do studio. YS was playing with the boys' ocean life figurines.
Woman Sitting Behind Us (WSBU): What type of whale do you have? YS: Orca! WSBU: I'm impressed! What type of whale is that one? (pointing to a different whale) YS: Sperm! WSBU: (Looking confused) Did he just say, I don't know, bear? YS: Sperm! (waving the bottom of the whale which is labeled with the words "Sperm whale") Alex Elliot (AE): It's a sperm whale. WSBU: Oh. Wow. AE: My older son is very into ocean life, so YS knows all the correct names. The names are written on the bottom of each animal. WSBU: Impressive.
I'm assuming she meant my kids, but I secretly wanted to believe she was impressed that I had figurines with the animal names on the bottom. They were well worth the money at the aquarium for the labels alone. How else would I know all these names?!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: When buying animal figurines, ensure they are labeled with the name of the species.
I am still looking for bloggers to do blogger reviews. Did I mention that there are going to be prizes? In fact there will be prizes for both bloggers and blog readers! Click here for more info.
Today we walked into the library and right away I just knew that someone had been talking to my kid. I knew because he informed me that since he was now five, he could get a library card. What?! It's not so much that I have an objection to the library card, but it's everything else that goes with it. For example, OS was quick to point out that if he had his own card, he could check out anything he wanted. Oh sweet son, when have I ever denied you a book of your choice? Yes, I only recently told you that people could rent DVDs from the library, but that was really because I was protecting your best reading interests and I didn't want to have you watch one of those horrible never-ending videos like the time I made the mistake of letting you rent a DVD when you were three. I may have told some slight twist of the truth where I pretended that I just never saw the DVDs on the wall just behind the glass doors and made all of us take the elevator so we wouldn't have to walk passed the DVD collection.
Of course I responded with the obvious response, "Is this something from the Berenstein Bears?" Why would I blame the bears? Well, they have caused trouble in the past. Six months ago, OS started freaking out about booster shots, even though I never recall mentioning them to him. I later realized that they are mentioned (and administered) in the book about those bears going to the doctor. Apparently they weren't involved this time. OS looked at me as if I were clueless and informed me that we don't have a book about the "bears" going to the library. However, a helpful librarian announced that OS was right. Drat!! (That's the G rated version of what was going in my mind.)
It's just a library card, right? I still get the final say about what he can check out and when. When all is said and done, it's not about who owns the library card, but rather who owns the car keys. They did make a nice production out of giving him his first library card complete with taking a photo of him holding it. Of course my concern is who exactly is talking to my son, because when he tells me that he's old enough for a driver's license, it just isn't going to fly because he'll then know that he doesn't have to wait to get a license until he is 30. I'm totally kidding of course....
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The car keys are mightier than the library card.
I let my daughter get her first library card when she turned 5, but since she's been in school we haven't gone to the library much. I think she's used her card 3 times in the year she's had it. I keep it in my purse because she'd lose it right away if I let her keep it.
I was totally excited when I was a pre-schooler and I got to have my own library card. there's a limit to how many books you can take out (10 at the same time I believe) and since my parents were taking out books as well, I was always limited in the number of books. When I got my own card, I could take many more home!!! It has stimulated my reading bug ever since. I still absolutely adore libraries.
And they did restrict what children can take home though.
There have been moments this past week where I have felt as though summer has flown by and moments where I felt as if the clock is broken. For instance, when on earth is my older son (OS) returning to preschool? Yes, I know his classes start in the second week of September, but I feel as if it must already be December. On the other hand, I almost convinced a friend of mine today that OS's birthday party is not for another 3 weeks. Almost...but not quite. She realized that it is happening in two weeks. Boy was I surprised. I pulled out the calendar so that OS and I can count down the days until his birthday. I couldn't believe it is already only ten days away.
Hmmm...if that is only ten days away, then that must mean that the submission deadline for Congratulations, You're a Woman Now! is only nine days away! We've been pleased with many of the submissions we've received so far, but there is still room for more. For the record, there is no minimum number of words required, and men are also welcome to submit relevant period stories, for example about a sister or a daughter. I've gotten emails from some people who worry that their stories are boring. I would encourage you to submit it anyway. It may be just the story we are looking for. It also doesn't have to be about your first period. For example, someone once told me that she used to get paid to test out tampons when she was in high school. Every month she would be asked to review a new batch. You don't hear about that every day!
You also don't encounter your old junior high school classmates every day...or at least you didn't until Facebook became popular. I have been making "friends" with a lot of my people whom I hadn't seen in decades. A recent moms group meeting on bullying made my junior high memories seems far more recent. Never mind summer flying by. How about life flying by! While I enjoyed many great moments in junior high, I had some other, less enjoyable moments. In particular, I may never get over...icebreakers.
Icebreakers were part of swimming, youth group, and student retreat day, which was called Snowball in our school. (Despite the name Snowball, icebreakers were never literally named.) We always had to play one or two variations that I hated. In one, everyone had to introduce themselves by saying they were bringing something to a picnic that started with the first letter of your name. Beth brought bananas, Catherine brought cookies, and Mary brought marshmallows. Now if Alex were my real name, rather than a "nomme de keyboard," I could have said I was bringing apples, but if you've read the Congratulations, You're a Woman Now! website, you know my real name and therefore understand how embarrassed I was when I had to announce that I was bringing nuts to the picnic. Most of the class would cackle raucously at the word "nuts" in a fashion later popularized by Beevis and Butthead, Oh come on! You know the junior high puberty jokes! (Even when I tried to "bring" nectarines, my classmates would gleefully suggest that nuts were a "more appropriate" offering.)
The other one icebreaker that made me freeze was being asked to use an adjective to describe myself that started with the same letter as my name. Alex would have been awesome, Beth was beautiful, Catherine was cool, and Mary was marvelous. I was either nice or neat. Yeah, major boring. My parents and I had quite a few fights over why they picked my name, and at one point I was determined to use my middle name when I went off to college. I swear it came up every year from junior high through high school and college and then again when I was picking my kids' names. I cannot count the number of times that the Big Giraffe rolled his eyes during my pregnancies because I grilled him about what our kids could bring to a picnic or how they could describe themselves.
I'm not sure why I can't get this out of my head.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Some old memories feel like they happened yesterday; if your first (or other significant) period is one such memory, please write it up and submit it.
I submitted mine earlier this week. I almost didn't send it in because I don't think it's particularly exciting or unusual, but I figured it never hurts to try. Can't gain anything without trying eh?
Thank goodness I never had to do icebreakers like that! I have no idea what I would have brought or described myself with.
I'll be submitting mine...now that I'm back from insanity. Also, reading about having icebreakers in junior high...CRAZY! it just makes me realize how small my school was...we had one icebreaker...it was called Kindergarten :)
My older son (OS) and I had been looking forward to today. After the Big Giraffe got home from work, we planned to run a couple of errands together, including ordering birthday cakes and ending with getting ice cream cones. Needless to say, we were both pretty excited about it.
First on the agenda was stopping at a Tae Kwon Do studio recommended to us by a friend. OS is interested in taking lessons in the fall. We observed a class, and I got to ask one of the instructors some questions. We also made arrangements for OS to take a trial class. All of OS's prior outside activities have been activities that either the Big Giraffe or I did as kids. Alright so all only means swimming and parent child t-ball, but still... OS asked me what my Tae Kwon Do uniform looked like when I was a little girl. I explained to him that back when I was a little girl, it wasn't very common for little girls to take martial arts where I lived. In fact, I don't know any girls my age who took it. OS was completely shocked. I mentally juggled several theories on sexism and gender before simply saying that people realized it was silly and that's why now both little boys and little girls are encouraged to participate in martial arts and many other sports.
We went to our wholesale club where OS ordered a small princess birthday cake for his at-home party and a larger emergency vehicle birthday cake for his big kids' party. I was careful not to express my opinion, so that he picked what he wanted. He was so ecstatic that he was literally hopping up and down. In fact he hopped out to the parking lot and we headed out to Friendly's for ice cream. He proudly told everyone about his two birthday cakes.
We then settled down to talk over ice cream. After talking more about his birthday cakes, OS wrinkled up his face and disbelievingly asked me to confirm that no little girls the I knew took Tae Kwon Do when I was little. I could see why he was confused. First of all, it doesn't make sense. Second, there were obviously girls taking Tae Kwon Do now. The instructor who helped us was female, and there were girls in the class that we observed. Finally, a child who orders one princess cake and one emergency vehicle cake clearly does not feel bound by any gender stereotype. Yeah, he was right to be confused! He wanted to know if I had wanted to take Tae Kwon Do. I started to describe Karate Kid. I was getting into it when I realized that OS had a glazed look in his eyes. He wanted to know if I ever would take martial arts. I looked on the class schedule we were given and sure enough adult Tae Kwon Do is offered. My last triathlon of the season is over in a couple weeks.... surely it wouldn't hurt to look into it. I mean you could even go say far as to say that I would really be doing myself a disservice by not trying out a sample class, right? Boy won't the Big Giraffe be surprised when he reads this post!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: While Tae Kwon Do was not always an option for girls in the past, it is now available for girls and women of all ages.
I took gymnastics as a kid, and I loved it. But I also don't know any girls who took martial arts in our area. Interesting. I did take Aikido once in college, and I was beyond awful in it. I'll be curious to hear about your martial arts experiences.
In my last post, I mentioned a poor parenting explanation of stranger danger that I recently delivered to my older son (OS). Not one to leave anyone in suspense, I figured it deserved further explanation, particularly since this is reason number million and one why my OS's therapy bills will be higher than my younger son's (YS) it's better to be a second born. Our babysitting cult co-op had a playdate earlier this week. In order to be a member in good standing, you have to attend 4 playdates a year. I've already attended two this year, but since we didn't have anything planned, I figured this was a good time to get ahead. After all, I may have gotten an email or two questioning my status as a member of good standing in past years. I decided to take advantage of the fact we didn't have anything planned and attend. After all, if I hadn't gone to a co-op playdate at a park, I probably would have taken the boys to a park instead. Unfortunately, I would not have taken them to this park. This park is too big to easily keep track of multiple kids.
Since OS is almost 5 and doesn't need to be hanging on my leg every moment, I decided it was time for our first big stranger danger talk. OS and I had participated in a safety class together right after he turned three, but I am not sure how much he got of it. I still remembered all of the lines, so I reminded him that he could play anywhere within the fenced in area of the park, but he was not allowed to go outside the fence. If someone asked him to come outside the fence, he needed to "always ask Mommy first." Yes, I was a star pupil!
Unfortunately I am apparently just not a stellar mom because the next part of the conversation did not go as planned. OS wanted to know why someone would ask him to go outside the fence. I explained that there were "bad adults." I said that a stranger might ask him to help him find a lost dog or offer him candy. OS looked frightened and promptly burst into tears. Various expletives starting running relay races through my mind over and over again. I reassured him that all he had to do was make sure that he always asked me before leaving. I also told him to make sure he was always able to see me; if he couldn't see me, there's a good chance I couldn't see him. Needless to say, OS spent the night in our bed.
The next day as we were driving to the park, OS craned his head looking out the window. When I asked him what he was doing he told me he was looking for the lost dog. Great. Again I explained that there was no lost dog. More importantly, I told him that good grownups do not ask kids to help find lost dogs; they call the dog officer. OS knows our town's animal control officer, so that seemed to make sense to him. During the playgroup, Sally HP suggested that I might want to distract OS for a moment. From what? Well, there was a creepy old guy walking two dogs right near the fence. Visions of OS moving into my room permanently flashed through my head. Yes, YS you do have it made. Hmm...on second thought maybe not. Who knows what OS will tell YS?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There is a fine line between warning and terrifying children.
You know, I don't ever remember talking to my kids about strangers, however....
In passing, I've said "hi" or "thank you" to strangers who hold a door, etc (yes even in New England, it's happened quite a bit for me). Moe has taken to asking me, "who was that?". When I tell her I don't know, I always get a lecture on how I shouldn't talk to people I don't know. Hum, maybe that's why New Englander's are stuck up, they're just afraid of talking to strangers....
I screwed this all up royally when I did it the first go round, but thankfully the TV saved me with my second and subsequent kids. There is a DVD done by John Walsh and Julie Clark (the baby einstein lady) called Stranger Safety and it is goofy and quirky and I think takes the proper tone. The commercials made my older son BEG for this video, and it is great. Now all I have to do is ask "Who is your Safe-Side Adult" or "Did you check your safe circle" and they know what I'm talking about. You might want to check it out - if your libraries are any good they should have it. I'd send you mine but I need it for a few more years til the baby is old enough.
My younger son's (YS) second birthday is this Saturday. Hmmm...that day sounds very familiar like there might be something happening in the Blogosphere. Wait a minute! It's the kick off day for the Happy Birth Days Carnival happening right here at FF&P!
YS received a Fisher Price Little People toy house in the mail for his birthday from my MIL. It has a of couple of bedrooms, a kitchen, a washer, a dryer, a tub and a toilet. YS was quite excited to play with it. So was my older son (OS). In fact OS took the lead during the pretend play with YS interjecting every once in a while. I enjoyed watching the kids. In fact I decided to pull out the video camera and record them playing together. OS had the Mommy and Daddy figurines get up. Then Mommy went to the gym and Daddy took a shower. Then Mommy went home and peed and then took a shower. Then Mommy made breakfast. The Mommy made breakfast again. Then Daddy made breakfast. The Mommy made breakfast. Then Mommy peed. I interrupted at this point. Did Daddy have to pee? OS firmly told me "No, just Mommy." Hmmm. He had Mommy complete a variety of activities, alternating each with her having to pee. Seriously, why was the Mommy peeing so much? I asked OS if perhaps the baby needed to pee. He again firmly stated "No, just Mommy."
When I shared this story with the Big Giraffe, he began laughing. Apparently I clock quite a number of repetitions in the bathroom. Who knew? Well, apparently everyone but me.
For the record, I'm not diabetic, and I do not have a UTI. I just drink a lot of water, particularly after working out in the morning, and I hate feeling like I have to pee even a little bit.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: It may not be the trips to the park or the playtime in the backyard that your kids will re-enact when playing "Mommy"; it might be how often you pee.
I going to come right out and admit it. I'm one proud mama. Last spring my older son's (OS) preschool class had a music recital in a local park. Several classes of 3 year olds formed a line and sang and danced to songs. OS was not among them. In fact OS spent the whole concert hanging on my leg and asking to leave. We finally did.
Today was this year's recital. The Big Giraffe and I hoped that this year he would at least stand with the class. Stand with the class he did...and more. He sang and danced. Most importantly he had a fantastic time! He was so proud of himself, and we were so proud of him. I had to hold back tears. Fortunately I was successful, because there's nothing like capping a fond childhood experience with the memory of your mom embarrassing you. It is also fortunate that we recorded the recital. Now I can sit on the couch with my own box of tissues in the privacy of my own home. One less family therapy session to worry about!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: To quote the first song from the recital, "The more we get together, the happier we'll be."
i nearly cried today at the end of Vacation Bible School, which I've been looking forward to ending (even though I enjoy it). I blame the lack of sleep, but I think it had something to do with it being MQ's first year in with the big kids, and doing beautifully.
It's so fun watching our kids take such big steps in growing up, but a little sad also. I miss my tiny snuggly babies sometimes, but I adore the big girls they are now, and I am looking forward to the fantastic women they will be one day.
I'm old. Yes, it's official. Today in an attempt to explain to my older son (OS) why he needed to wear sunscreen, I shared a story from when I got a really bad sunburn when I was a little girl. OS looked impressed. I further explained that I wasn't allowed to go outside for three whole days because the burn was so bad. OS kept focusing on the part when I was a little girl. He had an incredulous look at his face. I recognized that look. It's the same look I had when my dad would tell stories about when he was a little boy. It's the "Yeah, right! You were never little! Good one!" look. This was quickly followed by the "You're so old you must have crawled out from under a rock" look. OS even asked to talk to my mom for confirmation of the sunburn story.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Sunburn is scary. The thought of your parents having been children is terrifying.
My older daughter finds it so fascinating when I talk about things that happened when I was a kid. I guess I didn't realize she probably thinks she's hearing about the time when dinosaurs roamed the Earth.
DS1 always wants to know about the bad things I did when I was little. I once told him I knew he was sneaking cookies because I used to do the same thing & you can't fool someone who's done the same thing. The idea of me as a little girl he has a hard time with, but the idea that I was sometimes a bad little girl is more acceptable.
My 6 year old loves it when we tell him stories about when we were kids. Like it was a million years ago and so so foreign to him...geez, we aren't that old!
MQ loves to hear about when i was a little girl, although for a long time was convinced she would grow up to be my mommy, and I would be her little girl. I loved that idea. ;)
I remember when my older son (OS) was just a tiny baby. When I looked at him, I imagined that he would always be gurgling and sweet. Alright I knew that he wouldn't remain like that forever but to be honest whenever I saw kids melting down I did secretly believe that OS wouldn't ever do such a thing. Come on, you haven't ever wondered if it was the parent? Be honest.
Over time, I have come to accept, begrudgingly, OS's temper tantrums. Today however I had a big realization: OS is an instigator. There I said it. It's true though.
Sally HP and I were getting ready to drive back from the Magic Wings aka the Butterfly Museum. She had bought butterfly lollipops for the kids. She even commented on how great the sticks were because they were plastic and thus wouldn't dissolve and get all gross like regular lollipop sticks do. I was impressed with her thoughtfulness. I was also impressed with the size of the sticks. I worried that OS would use it to poke at his brother or Sally's son. Fortunately the kids were all excited about the candy and quietly ate it.
Or so I thought. Then we heard a noise...kind of a scratching sound. I was baffled about what it could be. Then Sally asked OS to stop scratching the ceiling of her car with his lollipop. That's right, OS quickly figured out that the nice long lollipop pole stick could reach the ceiling. Oh, and he didn't finish eating the candy first. Of course, the other two boys wanted in on the game and before we knew it all three of them were scratching the ceiling with their wet sticky lollipops. I believe Sally indicated that this is what she should have expected from giving kids lollipops attached to the end of fishing poles. I can't say for sure because I was laughing so hard.
Of course OS stopped doing the scratching while YS continued. In fact even after YS finished his candy, in between ceiling scratches (hope Sally's car ceiling is cleaner than mine), he still was waving the stick around oblivious to the fact that the game had been over for a while.
I'm sure that OS has been an instigator before today. In fact, I would bet it's even happened more than once, particularly with his younger brother. I just wasn't as aware of his new status as that kid. Since as the younger sibling, YS always follows the trends after his brother is done finished, it appears like they are his idea
Sally HP's Lesson Learned: Do not give children lollipops with long sticks when enclosed places.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: At some point your sweet baby will become that kid.
To read about our trip to Magic Wings, (gotta love that name) click here.
Yeah, it stinks when you realize that your kid is the bad influence in the bunch. Although when parents of kids younger than mine give me those looks I usually just think, "yeah, your kid will do it too. Just wait."
Pride, Pet Rocks, and Alex Elliot: Annoying Parent
Before I became a parent, I vowed that I would never be one of those obnoxious parents that would boast about their kids left and right. You know what that's like...you politely ask a mom (or dad) how her kid is doing and she gives you a list of the kid's top 50 achievements...in the four months that have passed since his birth. I would never ever do that!
Who am I kidding? I have yet to find a pre-parent declaration that I've kept. There may, and I stress may, possibly have been some blatant subtle bragging during the past five years. I do know one thing for sure though, I just have to take a moment here to talk about how impressed I am with my older son (OS). Yes, I know I am just like am one of those annoying parents. Come on though and cut me some slack! My most recent post was about how both my kids were playing in the toilet yesterday, not how they were finding the cure for cancer.
OS is really into ocean life. Some kids are really into trains, dinosaurs or pirates for example, and they can tell you every little detail about them. That's how OS is about marine life, in particular dolphins and whales. He can recognize many sea creatures, and even explain the differences between various types of dolphins and whales.
This morning when I dropped OS off at preschool, his teacher handed me a pet rock that he made in class. She told me that most of the kids chose to do bunnies, kittens, or puppies for their pet rocks. Not OS. He made a whale pet rock. It was the only whale pet rock in the class. After school I asked OS to tell me about his whale pet rock. First he specified that it was not just any pet rock, but was specifically a blue whale pet rock. I noticed two cotton balls on the rock. OS matter of factly told me that the two cotton balls were for the two flukes of the whale's tail. Six months ago, I didn't even know what a fluke was! OS actually ensured that his whale had them.
Yes, I know I know. I'm totally bragging here, but I was just so proud that he took an interest and carried it over into a school craft. Alright now I'm off to slink away. Did I mention that my kids bathed a cloth doll in the toilet yesterday?
I still can't find my camera and had to rely on my cell phone.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: It is no fluke that I am proud of my children.
I think it is spectacular that he has a subject abotu which he is so interested that he wants to share it with not only his family but his class as well.
I think you should be proud of his pet whale. I work with Fish Biologists all day long, so I am particular to sea creatures myself. What a fine whale he made. :-)
He's a darling pet rock whale! And passions are wonderful. If you ever get down to NYC, go to the Museum of Natural History and to the Hall of Oceans to see the Blue Whale there - it will rock his world. That's the best museum room in the universe, as far as I'm concerned. ;-)
You should be proud! That's great that he knows that stuff. My kids haven't ever gotten that interested in anything to want to learn that much about it.
That is an awesome whale. Totally bragworthy. I have realized lately I have a horrible habit of actaully downplaying my baby's strengths among other mothers because I am trying to compensate for the fact that deep down I think my kid is so cool. That has to be a worse habit than actually bragging, doesn't it?
Our dog Gandalf is not allowed to run in the yard by himself until he is healed from his surgery. Our vet also warned us that he would be "backed up" for a few days after the surgery. The Big Giraffe was happy to report Gandalf's first "delivery" yesterday, but we were not convinced that he was all clear. The Big Giraffe even did a couple extra laps around the yard with Gandalf this morning in the hopes that there would be more to follow. In the end, he gave up, leaving the boys (canine and human), the girls (feline only), and me to our Thursday routine.
Thursdays tend to be our days to catch up around the house. Fun times over at the Giraffe household! I started upstairs by cleaning the bathroom, even putting out a newly cleaned bathmat. Then I undertook the role of Sherlock Holmes in order to solve the mystery of my missing lap suit. I like to call the suit "Grimace" because with it's eggplant purple in color, so I feel like Grimace from McDonald's when I wear it. My suspects were two small boys who are constantly taking things out of my gym bag no matter where I hide it. I searched the house high and low for Grimace, but it was nowhere to be find. The boys were working on puzzles up in their room. I decided to go check in the basement to see if Grimace had been caught in the dirty laundry pile.
I wasn't down there for more than a few minutes. I remember hearing the toilet lid upstairs fall twice and calling up and asking my older son (OS) if everything was alright. He said it was, so I proceeded to make lunch for the boys. When I went upstairs and picked up my younger son (YS), his clothes felt slightly damp to me. I asked OS if he was playing in the sink. He said no. I had just washed my hands so I figured I must not have dried them all the way, and didn't think any further about YS's clothes. I should have.
After lunch we went upstairs for quiet time, and I saw a giant wet spot on OS's bed. I asked him the obvious question: did he have an accident. He said it was water. Oh, alright. What water? Water from the sink? Silly, mommy. Of course it wasn't water from the sink, he told me. Sigh of relief. It was water from the toilet! Trying not to lose it, I asked the obvious question in a strangled I'm trying not to yell at the top of my lungs voice. How did it get there? I figured they used a cup or their hands. It was worse than I thought. After careful cross-examination, I learned that they had bathed OS's cloth doll in the toilet. While I'm pretty sure that the toilet water was clean, OS did mention that he had also used the toilet.
I am baffled why they did this. We have a stool in the downstairs bathroom so that they can fill the sink and bathe their toys. OS does this at least once a day. There was also a stool in the bathroom sink upstairs that they could have used. OS is 4.5 and has been potty trained for a year. He knows what goes in a toilet.
Of course the worst was still yet to come. When asked, OS told me he didn't know what happened to the doll. I was in complete disbelief at this point. How hard is it to find a sopping wet doll? I was worried that she was buried under a couch cushion. We finally found her on the dining room bench. She had been sitting next to OS during lunch! Let's not dwell on that one too much or I may see my dinner again.
I confiscated the doll and we all went back upstairs to clean the bathroom. Yes, the one which I had just cleaned earlier that morning. It looked like a monsoon hit! Even the shower was wet with toilet water. The not yet used bathmat was sopping wet.
After bringing order to the chaos, I went back downstairs to try not to hyperventilate. That's when I got hit with the second surprise. Gandalf had apparently cleared the rest of his backlog...right in the middle of the hallway.
As for OS, I told him he wasn't allowed to use the upstairs bathroom for the rest of the day. It was soaked from both the monsoon and the post-monsoon clean-up. I believe he thought it was a punishment, which is not what I had intended. It actually had way more of an effect than taking away the dolls and other toilet bathing accoutrements that I found.
The Big Giraffe brought me home dinner.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: It never rains, but it pours...toilet water.
My OS puked and cried most of the day yesterday, and while it was awful for him to be ill, I'm glad I didn't have to clean toilet water from all over my house! Here's hoping your OS doesn't tell my OS about toilet bathing of toys or we'll have pirate playwear in the trash!
Um,..well, I guess you can be relieved that they didn't attempt to flush the doll DOWN the toilet? (trying to look on the bright side :o) ) I almost thought you were going to say they had flushed your suit!
Because we spend a lot time discussing the birds and the bees these days in our house, we had yet another sex conversation today. Except that today I seriously needed my parenting instruction manual that I just know that they must have forgotten to give me at the hospital...twice now. I even double checked under the couch, in the hall closet, in my husband's closet and any other place we stash things right before guests come over to our house. No luck. I checked on-line to see if perhaps the hospital had an electronic copy that I could download. No luck there. I really needed help on this one. I just know in that instruction manual that surely came with my baby there was a section explaining how to find the location of merfolk genitalia . Isn't it obvious? I mean that should be right after how to change the baby's diaper. I'm sure the writers would be able to foresee the following type of conversation that I had with my older son (OS) today:
OS: Mommy, Ariel is a girl! Me: Yes, she is. OS: That means she has a gina! (We're working on getting the "va" in there) Me: Yes, she does. OS: Where is it? Me: (Feeling under pressure here as I know nothing about the gentalia of merfolk because apparently my anatomy pre-med course I took left that one out). I'm not sure...(based on numerous parenting articles saying it's fine to admit you don't know as well as a personal stall tactic for me), but I think it would be on the back of her tail. OS: That's right! It's just like the cats' ginas! Me: That's right. (Eyes darting back and forth performing a catscan to make sure unsuspecting cats were in a safe location before any "veterinary examinations" occured.) OS: I like cookies in preschool.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Pre-med anatomy may not be sufficient for answering preschoolers' anatomy questions.
You are too funny! Kami, don't feel bad, I didn't catch on to the "merfolk" thing right away, either. I thought perhaps Ariele was a friend from school! LOL
Just wait, Alex! The questions get much more interesting as they get older! (I don't want to tell you too much, it would scare the begeebers out of ya!) :0 If only there was such a manual, being a parent would be soooo much easier!
I like cookies, too. Excellent how he can move from one topic to another with such ease.
If you do ever learn about the genitalia of merfolk, let me know if they have pubic hair. I was never curious about that until now, but since you brought up the topic, it strikes me as interesting. Scales and hair seem sort of messy.
Did you see Liz's post at Mom-101 today? She went to a toy show, and there were a series of anatomically correct multi-cultural dolls. Maybe they need to add merfolk!
I think the last line of that conversation about summed up the attention span of a preschooler. For you, sex is a tricky topic. For him, it is about as noteworthy as cookies. It's too funny.
Interesting.. I had a conversation like that yesterday. My OS said Mom, you have a vagina, right? And you sit to pee, and I have a penis, and boys stand. I said that some boys sit to pee, and that's ok too. Then he said that he was going to "wrap a vagina around" his penis... so he could sit to pee? I don't know... I was truly flabbergasted. I said that he couldn't really do that, boys just have penises and girls have vaginas, and people don't have both. Merfolk on the other hand, just may!
In case none of you have noticed, parenting is really hard work. I'm not talking about the whining, the temper tantrums, the dirty diapers or throwing up (you or them). I'm also not talking about the mounds of clothes, the meals, or the cleaning. I'm talking about the emotional aspects.
It's always been important to me that my boys are exposed to both so called boy toys as well as so called girl toys. In fact, if there's fighting going on between my boys, I can almost guarantee that it's over a My Little Pony or a Groovy Girl. My boys love playing with them, although I have to admit that they play differently with these alleged girl toys than I did with my ponies and dolls. For instance, the latest thing has been to put the ponies on our big Lightening McQueen car and let them go for an out of control joy ride throughout the kitchen. This usually seems to occur when I'm trying to cook dinner. The ponies also enjoy taking swim lessons and baths in the bathroom sink. However, the more traditional routines that I used to enjoy such as feeding the dolls, changing their clothes, and putting them to bed don't seem to be part of their play. In fact the dolls are almost always naked. (It's not a big deal; Groovy Girls are not anatomically correct.)
We've co-existed nicely with these allegedly female toys. Fairly recently though, my older son (OS) has gotten into Disney Princesses. No, he hasn't gotten into watching the movies because the only princess movie that he has seen is The Little Mermaid which despite owning, he never wants to watch. I believe his princess interest began when a friend had a princess birthday cake. She's very into princesses. As a result, he picked a princess birthday cake for me. Now both of my boys love playing with the princess figurines that came on my cake. Fortunately those figurines stay at home, or at least they are supposed to.
Last week, the boys and I went to a daytime moms group meeting. While I was taking off my younger son's (YS) coat and boots, OS apparently went into the living room and announced to a couple of moms that he was made from his daddy's sperm and his mommy's egg. He proceeded to tell them that he grew in my uterus, then the doctor cut a hole in it and pulled him out, and then he was born. Of course I found this out about an hour later. The mom who told me about it complimented OS on his precociousness. I felt a sense of pride. OS is down with the birds and the bees.
I am embarrassed to admit I was thrown for a loop, when OS whipped the princess dolls out of his pants pocket. He then offered a lengthy description of each princess. Once we all got home, I reminded OS that we don't bring our toys into other people's houses because we risk losing them. OS kept talking about how he wanted to take the princesses to preschool. Finally, in a moment of not so great judgment, I told him he couldn't because his friends might tease him. As soon as I said it, I wanted to clamp my hand over my mouth. I don't want my son to think that I think there's something wrong with his interests. I don't want him to think that he can't talk to me about his interests. Most importantly, I don't want him to think there's something wrong with his interests. At the same time, there was a part of me that felt that potential teasing is just as real as the birds and the bees.
Today the Big Giraffe was halfway out the door when OS called to him to come back. BG had a little McDonald's teddy bear from our Chicago trip in the outside mesh pocket of his backpack. OS told BG that he needed to leave the bear at home so that his friends wouldn't tease him at work. I'm not exaggerating (by much) when I say that I felt like my heart stopped. I certainly did feel like the world's worst mother. The Big Giraffe looked horrified. Even YS looked concerned. I had to fight back tears as I explained to OS that it was important that he have the interests that he wanted and that he didn't have to pretend to be someone that he wasn't. I would always love him no matter what. Except that he's 4 so there's no way he could comprehend even a fraction of what I said. It's just like anything else where my kids remember something really random, like that I raised a caterpillar in second grade, and then something I don't want them to remember like saying their friends will tease them. I spent the rest of the day being overly interested in discussing princesses. I think even OS thought it was a bit much. Where's my instruction manual?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Little pitchers have bigs ears...and big memories...and big mouths.
What a tough situation! Don't beat your self up over it. I'm sure you will be able to rectify it. OS sounds like he's quite a self assured child. You've obviously done a fantastic job so far.
If it makes you feel better, my girls play the same way with their My Little Ponies. Often times, the ponies are ridden by their Star Wars or Super Hero Figures.
We have a no bringing toys to school policy because I have spent many night searching for a lost toy while the child sobs. We've found everything, but it's usually an item that gets left in the van or stuffed into the bottom of a backpack and forgotten for a bit.
I've been there, not the exact same thing, but similar. It stinks. I often wish I had a rewind button. But the kids are fine, they get over it. Nothing a little therapy won't help. Gah!
Oh, bless your heart, that is so hard! I keep thinking about how I am gonna deal with these things as my little one gets older, but it is obvious to me already how complicated it is. I think you are doing a really great job negotiating the desire to make them open minded while still being aware of social norms and what people think. That is really all you can do.
I am very impressed by OS's knowledge of pregnancy and birth!
This parenting thing is kinda hard isn't it. I have probably said something similiar to my son and of course regretted it too. Parenting by trial and error, right ?
I shouldn't find this funny but it was cute the image of him pulling it out of his little pocket. I've found that older siblings make a big difference on what toys my children play with. My oldest girl liked dolls well enough but by the time my youngest came around and wanted to be just like her big brothers she was into cars and all sorts of boy things.
You do such a great job of allowing them to be who they want. I think that, although you feel bad about it, there does come a point when the whole teasing issue will have to be discussed...doesn't mean you're going to feel good about it :( Don't worry about,I'm sure that it made a much larger impact on you than him!
Just to clarify, this post is meant to be humorous. I think humor is an important part of parenting, and I really enjoy that part (and many other parts).
When my older son (OS) was born, I couldn't wait to begin experiencing life with him. I pictured the snuggling we would do, the walks that we would take, the songs that we would sing, and the trips to the library. Together we would curl up on a big comfy chair in the library and read our books in front of the fireplace while I sipped from a cup of hot chocolate. Alright maybe not that last part; obviously it needs to be cold hot chocolate. However, the reality has never come close to that picture. Between the fact that the librarians tend not to be very helpful, the lack of any available fireplace, and the prohibition on food or drink, even hot chocolate (can you believe it!), I don't spend much time there. Of course, I don't think I am their favorite customer either. Whenever I casually inquire as to whether any of the money that they are collecting to build some huge addition will go toward placing a book drop box in the parking lot, they quickly change the subject.
Still, it did bother me that I wasn't taking my boys to the library as often as I should. I loved the library as a child and I want my boys to feel comfortable there. I also hope they discover at an early age that they can find a book to answer their questions in addition to learning how to borrow someone else's property and be responsible for it.
So earlier this week when OS started talking about the Curious George book in which he visits the library, it reminded me that the Big Giraffe had led his own library excursion with the boys over the holidays, and I had not remembered a follow-up trip to return the borrowed books. I had a pretty good bad feeling that those books were overdue. Nice way for us to teach responsibility, right? Since they were on his card, I couldn't look them up on-line to see the due date.
After scrabbling around the house to find the books, the boys and I headed out to the library. I have long since given up on the fireplace and the hot chocolate, but my head was filled with cozy images of the three of us curled up with a book. I am confident that the boys' heads were filled with fun images of the one eyed goldfish at the library that they just love. (No, I'm not making that part up I swear.) Before entering the library, I had gone over a list of rules with my boys. Talk quietly, no hitting, no shoving and they needed to listen to me. (As opposed to the in-house rules...) OS pointed out that Daddy had already talked to him about talking quietly when they were there a few weeks ago. Great! It turns out that the books were not overdue, since we had renewed them on-line at their original due date. We returned them anyway and went down to the dungeon children's room to select more books. A librarian helped OS find a book on how rainbows are made. The three of us (not the librarian) curled up and read the book. Wow, I had attained my goals of making the library a nice place of the boys, showing OS how he could find the answer to his questions, and enjoying some nice snuggle time together.
I must have pushed it too far...about ten minutes too far. Suddenly the boys started chasing each other around the library through the stacks. That's when I identified the problem with having little kids at the library: parents are also bound by the whisper requirement! In other words, no yelling. Not that I would ever do that anyway. My kids were running through the stacks, and I was trying to grab at them while whispering furiously. Of course, they paid no attention to me. Later OS informed me that "not running" was not one of the rules that I had laid out. I pointed out that it fell under "listening to me". Of course, he technically didn't violate that rule either, since he was running too fast to hear me whisper. That is why it will be a good ten years two weeks before I take my kids to the library again. After all, the books are due in two weeks.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Most places that require children to be quiet also require parents to be quiet.
At our library the children's area is open to the floor above ... which is of course the adult area. I have yet to figure out how I am supposed to keep my kids' voices from carrying up there.
I remember those days when my boys were little, fun but a little tense at moments! I think all librarians are a bit uptight, must be a job requirement! :) Don't worry, it will get better! (then you just have to tackle them wanting to check out 20 books, 10 DVD's, and 5 magazines all at once!)
Have you ever seen the Doris Day movie "Please, don't eat the daisies"? My favorite part is when one of her kids eats like a dozen daisies and she asks him why and he says "You never told me not to!"
Ah I see the fireplace has resurfaced in the "visions of happiness" again. Always the fireplace huh? My memories of the library from childhood included my parents dropping my sister and I off in the kids room while my dad disappeared towards the magazines. I have no idea how ill behaved we were. At least you were there to keep them in check.
I had the exact same fantasies about the library. Turns out, librarians are rude (well not ALL librarians) and it's just not fun to take kids to the library for any length of time.
In defense of librarians, my mother-in-law is a children's librarian, and I think she's great. Also, I think it's sort of OK for kids to get a little nutty in the children's library, although I personally feel for you having to chase them around. It's an adventure, right?
oh, all the anti-librarianism is terribly distressing! i am a librarian, and my wife brought our son to storytime yesterday, then to the desk to see me. we were making the rounds, saying hi to everyone, when he inexplicably started screaming!
so, i guess, it happens to us all!
and really, even reading at home ends up being more of a shout-fest than a quiet snuggle anyway (see video posted at hedda dabbler!).
it is my sincere hope that we will one day be able to shed this idea that the library is to be a place of silence!
As I was driving my older son (OS) to school today, he announced that today is my last day of being 31. I immediately corrected him and said that it was my last day of being 32. Actually I'm going to be 32 tomorrow. Who accidentally thinks that they're older than they are? Shouldn't I be forgetting that I'm not 28 anymore?
29 was a huge birthday for me simply because for my entire life I have been hearing my elderly relatives tell me that they were 29. This lead me to believe that there must be something extra special. In fact 29 was to me was what 21 is to a lot of people: a birthday you look forward to your whole life. 30 was fun because well, it was the start of a new decade. Now I view people in their thirties as either being 30 or 35. I consider you around 30 if you're between 30 and 35, and I consider you around 35 if you're between 35 and 40. I don't make a distinction because honestly what's the difference between 33 and 34 for example? OK obviously the distinction is the difference of living a year longer, and I apparently consider the difference between 32 and 33 significant enough to devote an entire post to it, but there aren't any milestones between 30 and 35. Or at least there aren't any commonly recognized milestones. The Big Giraffe was really excited to celebrate a third of a century of excellence exactly 4 months after he turned 33, but that is only one of the many ways in which he is...unusual. Everyone is welcome to mark their own personal milestone, the way I marked 29 and the Big Giraffe marked 33.333 (repeating).
I still take pride in getting older each year. I don't deny that there may come a day when I want to hide my age, but for now, I'm still proud that I'm aging; you know the whole thing about getting older with wisdom, dignity and grace. Wait a minute! I'm still waiting for those things to happen. Does anyone know the exact age when I can expect to start experiencing these things? I have no problem with the number itself getting higher. Hey today I thought I was turning 33 tomorrow instead of 32. Hmm...perhaps that in and of itself shows I'm getting older!
In celebration, the Big Giraffe is taking the day off and we will be having a family outing. My older son (OS) also picked out a Little Mermaid birthday cake for me. He is quite excited about it. In fact he was so excited about it, he told everyone at preschool that I am going to be 32 tomorrow. You know it actually made me a little uncomfortable. Are you assuming that it made me feel old? Nope. It made me feel really young when the teacher commented on my age.
Happy birthday! I've thought I was 32 since Steph turned that age on Big Giraffe's birthday. Although sometimes I forget how old I am and answer with random ages because I'm a space cadet. And I am with you - I don't have any problem getting older. Why should we?
That is too funny! I keep forgetting how old I am too. I think 33 but maybe I have spent the entire year thinking the same way you were. Maybe I am only 32.
Probably not. Just wishful thinking.
Oh and is Big Giraffe and accountant or an actuary? 33.3333. Being an accountant myelf that cracked me up!
Oh and I'm so with you on the 'eh what's the big deal about getting older. I'm just happy to be here living life. (although I reserve the right to change that thought process at any time over the next several years)
Happy Birthday! I like your perspective on getting older. I look pretty young and have gotten quite a few "really??" when I tell people mt age, which makes me even older for some reason. maybe this year I'll just be happy about it.
Happy Birthday Alex! I hope you are having a wonderful, wonderful day today. And, yep, I also appreciate my age and look forward to enjoying the phrase "with age comes wisdom". One day I'll get there ; -) Big birthday hugs! -EE
Happy Birthday, Alex! I shut down blogs for The Day to Read and missed this post. I hope you had a wonderful day. What more could one wish for than a little mermaid b'day cake? ;-)
This post is for the Big Giraffe since he couldn't stop laughing when I told him about it.
My older son (OS) has always loved playing in the bathroom. I don't know what it is about the bathroom that he finds so attractive, but if things get very quiet while he is awake, I can almost guarantee that he's playing in the bathroom, no matter how many times I've told him not to. Since he's 4 and has been potty trained for a year, it has become trickier. We're really working on privacy, so I don't want to just barge into the bathroom or start knocking on the door every time he goes into it. Sometimes he really is using it for...um...legitimate reasons! I don't want to make him nervous.
A while ago, I re-read Beezus and Ramonaby Beverly Clearly. It was like she knew OS. There was a scene in which preschooler Ramona gave Ribsy the dog a timeout in the bathroom, and Ribsy accidentally locked the door with his paw. I can't even tell you the number of times I've stopped a "dog timeout" in progress either by freeing Gandalf or requiring a sulky OS to free him. OS's reasoning is identical to Ramona's reasoning; since Gandalf doesn't have his own room (where OS has his timeouts) Gandalf can use the bathroom as his room.
Between OS's playful tendencies and his friendship with Toilet Paper Babies, I wasn't initially concerned when I found one of the free, sample floss containers from the dentist's office with the floss pulled out all over the bathroom. After finding the 3rd container pulled out in less than a week, I started becoming concerned. Then I encountered OS. He handed me an empty floss container.
OS: Here's your yo-yo mommy. Me: What? OS: (with look on his face like I'm an incredible idiot) Your yo-yo. Just like the yo-yo Grandma got me for Christmas.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: For clean teeth and healthy gums, brush and yo yo every day.
I always knew that there would come a time when I would have to protect my kids from the dangers of the world. I know that I would walk across hot coals barefoot for my kids, but I just never knew when I would be called to do that. At some point my fencing skills from high school would be called upon to be used. Alright maybe not that last part.
On Wednesdays, my older son (OS) stays at preschool for lunch while my younger son (YS) and I are in playgroup. Since he not only views it as a special treat, but he will actually eat whatever I pack him, this arrangement works out well for the both of us. When YS and I went inside to pick up OS today, he told me that Santa had visited his classroom. (According to a note from the teacher, he asked Santa for a "surprise." He told me that he asked for a car just like mine that he can drive.)
When we were in the parking lot, YS started clawing at my neck, as if he were scaling me to try to get away from something. Unable to wriggle free, he started to bury his head in my neck. I couldn't figure out what was going on. Was there a coyote on the loose? Had one dinosaur escaped extinction and was coming out of hiding looking for his first meal in 62 million years? I tried to comfort YS, but all I could get was the silent scream. You know the one where the baby scrunches his face, gets all red, and opens his mouth but nothing comes out? You have approximately two seconds to brace your eardrums to protect them from being blown out. OS was alarmed too.
That's when I saw him. He was driving through the parking lot in a tan pick up truck, apparently on his way to visit the afternoon class. It was...Santa. OS was thrilled. YS still had the silent scream going, and he began clawing madly at me. Then Santa stepped over the line. He actually rolled down the window and...wished us a Merry Christmas. YS lost it. He began howling at the top of his lungs as we finished walking across the parking lot.
I had one kid tugging my hand wanting to follow the pick up truck as it parked and another one who isn't walking yet , but who would probably have jumped up and sprinted to my car if I had let go. My only question was how come the pickup truck wasn't red?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Reindeer have a better union than Santa Claus; while Santa is driving around in a pickup truck scaring babies, they are resting in the North Pole until their single, annual night of work..
Yeah, I have one that LOVES Santa, one that is---just this year---able to get near him without panic, and one who is terrified. Makes for interesting photos.
Your walking over glass might impress everyone with your devotion, however it would do nothing to benefit your children. Half an hour a day playing Hi Ho Cherrio or tossing a ball with them might be of more value.
This is so common, sadly. I shared that with ys when I was little. Cable Girl at 42 wrote a funny post about it a week or two ago. Hugs to your little one!
I have a sneaky suspicion that my son had ulterior motives tonight when he sweetly requested to have a father/son dinner. He told me that he wanted to spend extra time with his dad since he was at work all day today. It just makes your heart melt. Except he said this after he had seen me make dinner. Hmmm...maybe it was more of an aversion to pasta primavera. Between that and the cats throwing up outside the shower door today when I was showering, I'm not feeling too appreciated!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The prospect of fast food makes father/son time seem especially desirable to a preschooler.
First of all, Blogger is on my black list again. In addition to taking hours to publish posts, none of the comments I got today went through even though copies of them were emailed to me. Urggh.
Today the boys and I went to a nearby grocery store that gives out balloons. My older son (OS) asked if he could get an extra one for his friend who was visiting later. When I had the audacity to ask OS if he would like me to hold the balloons in the parking lot, he insisted that he could do it. Fine. Except that the balloon he picked especially for his friend got loose and sailed off to parts unknown never to be seen again.
I tried to use this as one of those golden teaching opportunities. In an age where a lost toy can be replaced at pretty much any toy store (not to mention eBay), I thought I could explain to OS that sometimes you just can't replace things. OS listened patiently to most of my explanation, although he interrupted me a few times to ask preschooler questions like whether or not the balloon was going to sleep in the clouds tonight. I had one of those good parenting feelings.
I noticed later on that OS was not very interested in the contemplation of irreplacable things. In fact, he showed interest in two discussion topics: 1. The balloon sleeping in the clouds and 2. The fact that Mommy said a bad word yesterday when she tripped and fell over the toy parking garage that had been left in the hallway (despite numerous warnings on her part to move it.)
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Your teaching moments often do not align with your child's learning moments.
Today when I was at the grocery store, I noticed that they were in the process of removing all the Halloween candy and stocking the shelves with Christmas cookies. In fact festive decorations appeared to be springing up out of nowhere; I reached for an orange and met the gaze of a wire reindeer with lights on it.
On Halloween, after I found out my older son (OS) had been sulking for an hour because he thought I was going to take his younger brother (YS) trick-or-treating while he was in preschool, he decided that he wanted it to be Christmas. No, I'm not kidding. This is probably because I had somehow decided earlier that morning that it would be a wise idea to mention that Christmas comes after Halloween. Don't even ask how I got started on that conversation. When I picked OS up from preschool, he announced much to the amusement of his teacher, that he was "all done with Halloween" and wanted it to be Christmas.
After convincing tricking OS into believing that Christmas was still a while away, we headed home for lunch. A couple of hours later we headed out to the mall to trick or treat. Guess who was there? No, not the Great Pumpkin, but Santa Claus's chair! They were setting up the "North Pole" in the middle of the mall for pictures with Santa. OS was quick to point out that he was right about Christmas. He gave me that look of complete annoyance that only children can give to their parents and pointed to the ceiling where the Christmas decorations were hanging.
Don't these stores realize they are taking away all my credibility by insisting on setting up for Christmas so early?! I'm all for stores having the best holiday season possible, but I have a 4 year old who's already beginning to think that I'm an idiot.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Halloween now marks the start of the Christmas season
The day after Halloween before the bookstore was even open, the Halloween display went down and the xmas display went up. That was sad. (Not to mention the "holiday" stand that was already up.)
Yesterday after dinner I tried several suggestions that I gratefully received to make bedtime more pleasant for the boys so that I...I mean they could get more sleep. I gave them a warm bath and allowed them ample time to play in it. I asked my older son (OS) to suggest good rewards for his sticker chart. I suggested that OS wear sweat pants and a t-shirt to bed since he normally hates pajamas. He was quite excited about that suggestion. After stories, I even sat in the "blue chair" in their room for 10 minutes. The Big Giraffe and I agreed that they needed to stay in the same room regardless of how they behaved, so they could not manipulate us with tantrums.
Initially it looked like these tactics had worked. However, about 15 minutes later all hell broke loose. I would like to blame it on the fact that the phone kept ringing, but honestly I don't think that the phone had that much to do with it. In the face of screaming and yelling, I abandoned he sticker chart in lieu of another, more innate parenting strategy: Bribes and Threats. Fortunately I left to go to a meeting and thus did not witness the failure of that strategy. When I came back at around 11, the Big Giraffe told me they had just fallen asleep. He had however held firm and wouldn't separate them. So the behaviors had not improved, but at least they didn't get their way.
This evening I tried my routines again. I take that back. They took a bath and then the Big Giraffe came home. He performed our standard bedtime rituals and everything seemed fine. Sure enough, the running around and laughing started. I went upstairs to calmly assess the situation. At least that was my intention, but I could feel the Bribes and Threats moving from my brain toward my lips to be delivered. I had just gotten a CD to review so I asked OS if he would like to listen to it. He immediately asked if he could hear "Ba Ba Black Sheep". A late night craving for "Mother Goose?"
Then I remembered the free CD of "Mother Goose" rhymes put to music, starting with the what is apparently OS's favorite rhyme. The CD with a book from the dollar store that OS purloined from shares with his younger brother who had gotten it as a party favor. I know that you shouldn't judge a book by its cover or a CD by it's price tag , but sometimes you do get what you pay for. The CD is awful, and that is being kind. That's actually why it was in the boys' room in the first place. I couldn't stand to listen to it in the car. After a somewhat quick search downstairs, I found it. The Big Giraffe couriered it to the boys' clock CD/radio and turned it on. The boys went right to sleep.
That's when it dawned on me that there had been a time over the summer when the dulcet tones of poorly sung "Mother Goose" tunes had reigned over 2 peaceful sleeping boys. Then came the fateful day when OS had a serious meltdown during quiet time, forcing me to confiscate the CD. Then the CD got misplaced. Shortly after that, we went to Orlando. I never considered that the time may have come to replay the CD. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that this $1 peacemaker works tomorrow night.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: If music always soothes the savage beast, there is a chance that it may sometimes soothe a preschooler.
I'm having a problem with getting my son to sleep too. I end up getting peeved most nights and resort to threats and no bribes. heehee. I didn't even really think of music. Thanks for the idea.
Two Awesome Situations: A Supportive Fellow Blogger and a Worn-Out Preschooler
I have no idea what's been going on with my kids, but they seemed to have decided that they do not need to sleep anymore. Either that or they really believe that they're in some sort of Dance Party USA contest that needs to take place at 2 am. The other night my younger son (YS) just would not go back to bed. Since both boys share a room, he was keeping my older son (OS) up. My husband, the Big Giraffe, took YS downstairs to sleep in the guest room It couldn't have been more than 3 minutes later, although I had already passed out again, when I was awakened by hysterics from OS. Thinking surely that he had a broken arm or a burst appendix, I leaped out of bed and practically collided with him. Turns out the tears were thankfully not from a serious injury, but because of a fury that arose from his belief that YS was watching Sesame Street downstairs. I couldn't believe we were having this argument, particularly at 2 am.
Last night there weren't any theatrics, but the boys kept waking up. After dragging myself through the meal, I got onto my computer (of course!) to find that Redsy had written this really kind and supportive post about yours truly.
Later on today, after OS's swim lesson, I was handed a certificate for him. It said "Your Child Will Sleep Tonight!" Alright really it said, "Your Child Swam 6 Lengths Today as part of America on the Move!" That's a long distance for a 4 year-old to swim, so that will put him out for the night right? Please tell me it's so.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The Transitive Property of Siblingitis states the following: If my brother is somewhere downstairs, and if a TV is somewhere downstairs, then my brother must be getting to watch TV.
Oh, sleep (or lack of it) is th ebane of my existence. MJ has decided at the ripe old age of 10 months that naps are no longer necessary, which would be fine if she didn't turn into a cranky witch (with a 'b') when she doesn't nap. lol
This past week, someone in my mom's group asked our group for advice over e-mail about how to talk to her 7 year old daughter about a single, family friend who just had a baby. The response that resonated most with me came from a friend who speaks in terms of "usually" and "sometimes" situations. Basically that involves saying that "usually x does this, but sometimes x does that". For example, "usually girls wear earrings, but sometimes boys do too." Or in this case, "usually people are married before they have children, but sometimes unmarried people have children."
This on-line discussion led my thoughts down two paths. First, I've been reflecting on when and how to use this concept with my older son (OS) who just turned 4. Second it led me to think more and more about how to handle the difference between questions that my boys will ask me directly and issues that they may never ask directly but may arise from their articulated assumptions. This is particularly important, because many times kids don't ask the questions you think they will ask. Sometimes they absorb or respond to new situations without saying anything at all. I think that's both good and bad. It can be good because kids are accepting in a way I wistfully wish adults could be. It can be bad though when as parents we may assume that they understand more of a situation than they do in reality. Unprotected teenage sex is one of the more terrifying examples of something with serious consequences that parents desperately hope that children understand.
When I was pregnant with my younger son (YS), my husband, the Big Giraffe, and I talked with OS about the baby growing inside of me. These discussions were mostly led by OS, but there was also some direction from the Big Giraffe, and me. We sometimes even used "usually" and "sometimes" without knowing it was an official parenting communication tactic. For example, we did tell him that while I was having a c-section, babies usually come out of their mothers' vaginas. I have no idea how much of this he understood, but I figured he would just filter out whatever was over his head.
Talking about vaginas isn't ever always the most comfortable conversation, but I wanted us to have a habit of open communication fostered by dealing with issues when they arise naturally, even if he was a little young. I felt vindicated earlier this week when he brought up that conversation, because it showed me that he remembers such exchanges, even if he doesn't fully understand them.
Yesterday OS and YS were playing "house". This involved OS pretending he was the mommy, and declaring YS (who was wearing a string of mardi gras beads) to be the daddy, a My Little Pony to be the grandma, and a plastic Nemo fish to be the baby. Every once in a while the necklace would go to someone else, who would immediately become the daddy. When that happened, all the roles would switch. The mommy worked the BBQ, and the daddy cooked in the kitchen.
I had been listening to the boys play for a while, and somehow the beads and the fatherhood title kept going back to YS. I asked OS why he didn't pretend that he was a daddy. He responded that YS was already the daddy and that there could only be one daddy. I was a little taken back. In the first place, I would not expect any family which includes a My Little Pony among its ancestors and a plastic fish among its children to be bound by typical rules. In the second place, one of OS's closest friends lives with his two moms, so it never would have occurred to me that he was not used to the idea of same-sex parents.
When I asked OS why there could only be one daddy, he said that families had one mommy and one daddy. Here was my golden opportunity to have a "sometimes x, but sometimes x" conversation! I explained to him that while a lot of times families have one mommy and one daddy, sometimes families have two daddies, two mommies, or just one parent. Every family is different. We then talked about all the different families we know. When I got to his friend with two moms, there was a real "aha" moment. He knew that Carolyn and Jessica were each Jack's mommies, but he had obviously never put together that it meant that Jack has two moms. He was quite impressed by that. He talked about it for a couple of minutes. Then the My Little Pony beckoned, and he went back to the pretend family.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Usually children are aware of differences around them, but sometimes they are not aware of the implications of the differences that they see.
Wow. That is an impressive bit of parenting. Congrats to you for making that a teaching moment and for explaining it so well.
I don't know that my kids notice differences that much, or that it occurs to them that the differences are something that should be questioned. Maybe I'm fooling myself with that belief.
I do often use the "sometimes" technique, and sometimes even just say, "well, this is how we do things in our family, but other families do things their own way."
Wow! I am filing this away in my head for when similar situations arise with my now only 6 mo old. I love the fluidity of the gender roles in the kids' play. Mommy uses the BBQ, while daddy cooks in the kitchen. Awesome.
I'm filing this away. I want Michael to grow up with the appreciation that people are different, and that is ok. What a great way to teach an important lesson.
I like the technique, I'll have to remember it for the future (for when my kid knows more words than "no" and "Hi"). I teach in NJ, and my district just caved into to a vocal and bigoted minority who insist that children shouldn't be taught that sometimes kids have "two mommies" or "two daddies". The video, "That's a Family" was in our health curriculum, and now apparently the very suggestion that same-sex parents exist is going to turn all our little 3rd graders gay. I love that you're not presenting the world as black and white to your sons. I wish my school district had had the stones to do the same.
Yep, definitely going to use this technique some day. Of course, I'm not at all excited about talking to my son where the conversation includes the word vagina, but hopefully I'll say the right things!
I had a similar experience with my 6yo---we were reading something about how every child has a mommy and a daddy. My daughter interjected, "that isn't true! (soandso) has two daddies!". We are getting pretty close to explaining the whole 'sex' thing (so mature of me to referring to it as the 'sex thing'!), so I tried to explain how you need both mommy parts and daddy parts to create a baby. I think this was the 1st time she realized that you need a man to make a baby!
That's great. I'm reading a new book now by my friend Logan Levkoff, who is a sexuality educator. It's about how to talk to your kids about sexuality, and is called "Third Base Ain't What It Used to Be," and I'm going to interview her about it on my blog. Anyway, your frank discussions with your kids are so wonderful and they remind me of the book. I will definitely give you my copy when I am done. I think you and the BG will find it interesting, even tho it sounds like you don't need it.
Yesterday we, by that I mean two parents, two boys and one dog, all went to Freeport, Maine. Yes, we live life on the wild side. We stayed at a wonderful bed and breakfast called Maple Hill that I highly recommend. There were quite a few lessons learned so instead of just picking one, I thought I would list them:
When traveling with children, if at all possible, teleport your family. If that's not possible, then hire someone else to drive your kids so you can be in a separate car.
Your dog will behave better than anyone in the car including you.
Invest in some good ear plugs.
Your dog will be immune to noise.
When your child loses it and has a complete meltdown in a clam shack off the highway during a 2 year wait for a table, do the obvious thing: pretend you have no idea whose child it is and join other customers in looking at your spouse or partner and child with a look of horror.
During all meltdowns, your dog will be resting quite comfortably in the car or in the room.
When your child has a complete meltdown after hurting himself by falling off of a chair in a restaurant later on, refrain from giving the finger to other customers who are giving you a look of horror.
Don't fret if your kids eat less than usual or sleep way less than usual.
Don't be surprised to find that your dog eats and sleeps better than any time within the last two years. (And by eats better, I mean eats his own food, not that he gets better food)
Now that I am done choking on my fine wine from South Africa I can actually type.
That. list. was. hysterical!
I still need to write about the final rest stop on the way back from Quebec. It was the restaurant from hell. While we got a table quickly we didn't get our food for nearly 2 hours and one of the kids' pizzas was burnt to a crisp.
That's right, the Jewish New Year began at sundown tonight. I was reading a blog post that Lawyer Mama wrote a few days ago about religion. It's not a topic I've been very comfortable writing about just because I think religion is so personal. In light of the fact that it's Rosh Hashanah, and I've been inspired by her post, I thought I would share a tiny bit about the holidays we celebrate. Holiday posts I can handle!
I was raised Catholic, and the Big Giraffe is Jewish. In fact on our very first date we discussed how we felt about raising our future children (since it was our first date, the future children were not OUR future children, but rather our individual future children) in the religion we had been raised. As soon as we were an "item" we began talking about what religion we would raise our future children. This conversation continued through our first year of marriage. Right before I got pregnant with my older son (OS) we decided to join a Unitarian Univeralist (UU) church. It's worked out quite well for us, since everyone in our church has unique beliefs and many have different religious backgrounds as well. Quite a few couples there come from mixed religious backgrounds like us. It sounds more confusing than it is. In a nutshell, you don't have to convert when you become a UU.
In our house, we celebrate both Christian and Jewish holidays. I know you're thinking it, so I'll go ahead and answer it: no we don't do presents for both Hannukah and Christmas. When I say we celebrate religious holidays, we celebrate the history and the ceremony behind them.
Since today is Rosh Hashanah, we had a nicer than usual dinner tonight. That's not saying too much if you've seen the hodge podge crockpot recipes we've eating these days. I made a dish called Creamy Chicken Lasagna. The Big Giraffe was very appreciative that I made dinner, but when I asked he did indicate that this was not a common Rosh Hashanah dinner. (The Big Giraffe would like it noted that it was a comment, not a criticism.) Then he proceeded with the ceremony.
Our older son (OS) was very intrigued by a few things. The first was the yarmulkah that BG was wearing. Some of you have asked me if OS has found a replacement for the towels that he wore on his head until his birthday. Well for a few minutes I thought that the replacement had been found, but then he gave it back to the BG. OS was also very intrigued by "big boy bread" as he, christened named the challah bread. Apples for dinner are apparently an exciting way to present fruit, as OS consumed more of it than I have seen him eat for a while.
The highlight of the evening for the BG appeared to be OS's unending stream of questions about the holiday prayers and rituals, and BG kept pausing to offer thoughtful (if simplified) responses to every question. The highlight of the evening for me though was definitely when OS found and started to use a rogue noisemaker left over from his birthday party in the middle of the ceremony. I was trying not to burst out laughing. The BG pointed out that it was New Year's after all so the noise maker was indeed appropriate.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A Noisemaker is an appropriate way to celebrate a new year in any culture or religion.
That's so neat how you've managed to combine both your beliefs and find a way to do it successfully. So often that's hard for families with differing beliefs to do.
I'm an athiest for all intents and purposes and so I guess I'm not supposed to celebrate anything, but I decided a long time ago that if someone invites me to celebrate a holiday with them, any holiday, then I'm going to celebrate it! I just wish I had more culturally diverse people around me so I could have more holidays to celebrate!
We also have an inter-faith marriage but are raising Michael jewish. Although I decieded not to take him to services today. I know, bad Jew. But the family service is in the middle of nap tim.
I think it's so wonderful that you have incorporated both religions into your children's lives. I am sure when they are older they will be very appreciative of the different beliefs, traditions and customs you and your husband exposed them to.
Sounds like our household -- I'm Protestant and Mr. PunditMom is Jewish, so we do holidays for both religions. And not, PunditGirl is fascinated with Buddha (the image, not his philosophy!) -- so who knows where she'll end up.
That sounds like a lovely way to celebrate Rosh Hashanah. lately, I have been learning a lot about the different Jewish cultures out there, and while chicken lasagna may not be a traditional American or Eastern Euro Jewish way to celebrate, I bet Jews somewhere totally eat noodle dishes. Just today I was reading about Indian Jews in Canada, and tonight we had Middle Eastern food. There's no wrong way as long as the intent and heart are there, and you guys have that and more!
This past week the boys and I have had the privilege of staying with Suzanne, her hubby, and a bunch of friends in a two family home in Ocean City, New Jersey. Suzanne and her hubby generously rented it for the group. We were about a quarter of a mile away from the beach and boardwalk. The boys and I had a terrific time.
Unfortunately, the Big Giraffe could not come with us on this trip. However, as much as he may have wanted to go, I think he secretly relished the idea of having the house to himself. More importantly he had seven nights of uninterrupted sleep.
After originally committing to going to the Jersey Shore, I began to have second thoughts. Looking forward to 8 hours of driving each way with the two boys was enough to make me feel like I needed to breathe into a paper bag. Fortunately, due to my laziness to my brilliant foresight and planning, we got off to a very late start, which actually worked out for the best. We didn't hit any traffic on the way to the beach. Plus the trip actually coincided with naptime, so the boys slept through most of it. I'm probably the only person to ever be grateful that Newark Airport books more flights than it can handle because we got at least a good half hour out of pointing out all the different airplanes that were coming and going and comparing their relative "sizes". I think I'll toast to the Newark Airport with my first glass of wine when I go out tonight with the moms in my playgroup.
Suzanne and her hubby were terrific about helping me out with the boys. I have always respected single moms, but I definitely have a newfound respect for them and parents whose partners work long hours. Being in charge of mealtimes, snacks, bathtimes, and bedtimes, not to mention entertaining them for 8 days was a lot. Everyone pitched in to help me. That is particularly appreciated given that, with the exception of a terrific mom named "D" who helped me out immensely, no one else had kids. "D" and her 5 year old left on Tuesday afternoon. We were there from Saturday to Saturday.
Since no one else had kids, no one else has experienced the joys of living with children and all their meltdowns cuteness. I had several conversations like this:
Person without kids(PWOK): Why is OS crying? Me: Because he wanted to eat applesauce with his brother's spoon. PWOK: But he has a spoon that looks identical to YS's. Me: Exactly, but it's not the one he wants. Plus the fake fruit on the wall looked at him funny. No, I am really not making that up. PWOK: I just remembered I have something in the dryer upstairs. (Sounds of thuds as person ran away to peace and quiet.)
This was another one of the week's greatest hits:
PWOK: Why is YS crying? Me: Because he's tired. PWOK: (pause) But why is he crying? Me: He always cries when he's tired. That's his form of communication. PWOK: All the time? Like every day? Me: Yes, multiple times every day.
PWOK then ran away with a look of horror on his face.
And of course the last one:
PLO: Jittery little fellow, aren't you. EWOK: Warble, chatter, warble.
Wait a minute! I said PWOK, not Ewok!
I am pretty certain that the calls to Planned Parenthood in NYC this week will increase based solely on my children. At one point there were 20 of us staying at Suzanne's house and several other witnesses to my kids' crying at the beach, the boardwalk, and in front of the alleged haunted house in the center of town. (OS's major meltdown at that last location gave credibility to the legend that the house sucks out all happy feelings in a demeantor-like fashion.) I'm sure more than one person scheduled a vasectomy or a tubal ligation not to mention prescriptions for birth control pills.
I was warned before driving home that traffic away from the Jersey Shore actually gets worse as the day gets later. I therefore took the opposite approach and got up very early with the boys. Most of the drive went very well. No problems in Jersey. No problems in the Bronx. No problems in New Haven. No problems in Hartford. After more than 6 hours flying through some of the most notorious urban areas in the Northeast when it comes to traffic, we were laid low by the metropolis of Worcester. The last twenty minutes of the drive were horrible. There was some construction near my house causing big backups. I wanted to jump through the top of the car or better yet out of the door. We were so close to home, yet so far away. And let me tell you, both of the boys were also apparently outraged about the construction and they made their feelings very, very clear to me.
If this is what it's like with two, what would three be like?! On that note, I should go and look up the number for Planned Parenthood for myself.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: As wonderful as children are, they can be quite a handful. Know what you are getting into first.
Wow, you're a super mom for managing the whole week.
There was a commercial that was floating around the internet a while back where a dad was chasing a toddler through a grocery store, packages going flying, things being split, huge fits of screaming and crying. Then the camera zoomed in on a box of condoms. Good ad.
Lady M - I never saw that ad but it sounds brilliant.
AE - I've done drives and flights alone with various combinations of my kids. Aside from the boys needing to go to the bathroom ALL THE TIME we usually survive.
And I'll be honest, two is much easier than three!
Ah yes, my all time favorite. They cry because of being tired. I wish it were possible to reason with a 9 month old. I find myself frequently saying things like, "You wouldn't be so tired if you just went to sleep at nap time!" and then promptly smacking my forehead in a "duh!" like maneuver since I'm obviously delusional trying to reason with her.
Lady M- That is a brilliant commercial. Seriously though, as I think we all know, no matter how prepared you think you are, you're never quite prepared for what hits. lol
Personally, I thought both kids were very well behaved the whole week. In fact, Huisband and I were so happy with the week, we are definitely going to do it again next summer. Just not in that house, now that we have been accused of trashing it, which is completely insane. We'll find an even better place.
We often jest around here that if we had had ANY IDEA what it was really going to be like, this parenting thing... we may have run screaming for some peace and quiet too! Who knew, eh?
When we got home today, the boys were definitely excited to see their Daddy. "I miss you, Daddy. I love you, Daddy," my Older Son (OS) kept telling the Big Giraffe (BG). Meanwhile, my younger son kept smiling and laughing, and apparently delivered a huge poop as he was being pulled from his carseat to quickly get BG back into the world of diaper changes. There were a minimum of tantrums, but OS suddenly found his whine of choice over the past week had now lost its effect.
OS: Daddy, OS tired. I want to go home and take a nap. BG: Umm...OS, you are at home. Go right upstairs. OS: Okay. OS does not need a nap.
As for me, what did I do after spending a week "single parenting" the boys on the beach? 13 hours of sleep!!!!!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The idea of taking a child home may often make him feel safer, even if he is already there.
The boys and I temporarily "abandoned" my husband last Saturday to go to the Jersey Shore with Suzanne,her hubby and a bunch of friends. We're going to be here for a whole week (and I have very limited internet access, thus my lack of comments on my favorite blogs this week). I'm currently staked out in a tiny internet cafe in a grocery store while Suzanne is watching the boys.
Sunday the boys and I went to the beach. Seeing as we missed our usual 10:30 am lunch (and no, there is no timezone adjustment in that calculation - they get hungry t 10:30), and it was already 11:00, the boys were starving. They wanted to have a little snack before we all headed out. I rummaged through the community coolor and found that someone had "donated" a bag of Milano cookies. I gave one to each of the boys. My older son (OS) took one look at the cookie and announced that he didn't want it. I knew right then and there that he desperately needed a nap because OS never refuses a cookie. As he was flapping around in protest over the cookie, a seagull (coincidentally also flapping around) swooped down and took the cookie right out of his hand. The bird then flew about 25 yards away and proceeded to snarf it down. At first we were all so stunned we didn't say anything. OS broke the silence by breaking out into ear piercing howls. Not only had he just been terrified by the bird, but now of course the cookie had become his very favorite food that he had been about to eat. I gave him another one, and he inhaled it.
Based on the bird experience, I actually fed the boys lunch inside. OS wanted numerous assurances that birds were not welcome in the restaurant.
So how did the big giraffe spend Sunday? He apparently slept in, did some reading, and thoroughly cleaned two rooms in our house. He made no admission regarding watching any television.
OS's Lesson Learned: If I don't eat it, something else will.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Sometimes it is wiser to eat lunch inside
Ha! The OCNJ gulls are the worst (don't know which beach you went to, but being a Joysey girl, I know a few of 'em). Had one steal a plastic french fry toy out of my hand once.
My condolences to your OS about his first cookie.
At least this gull had better taste. Love Milanos!
Harry Potter and the Blurry Eyed Parents (Spoiler-Free Post)
Don't worry. There are no spoilers in this post.
When Harry Potter first came out, I had no interest in it. I knew that a lot of people liked it, but I didn't see why it would be something that I would want to read. "It's a kid's book," is what I said. However, when I was doing my post-BA program, it seemed like everyone I knew was eagerly anticipating the 5th book. From the students, to my advisors, to one of the assistant deans not to mention several of my professors, it was clearly a hit with people that I knew and respected. One day I was at Spag's (if you're from MA you've probably heard of it), and they were selling paperback copies of the first three books for just a few dollars each. I went ahead and bought them. The next day I returned to get the 4th book, which was in hardcover and not nearly as inexpensive (but still well worth it). The Big Giraffe eagerly anticipated the chance to read the 4th book. As a lifelong sci fi/fantasy reader, who had initially bypassed the series for the same reason that I did, he said, "JK Rowlings makes people realize how cool fantasy really is".
When the 5th book came out, we were in Chicago. We saw the stacks of books in the airport but resisted the urge to buy a copy since we knew Amazon.com had already dropped one off so that it was waiting at home for us. We ordered the 6th book from Amazon.com as well, but when it came out, BG actually went to a local store and bought a second copy at midnight so that we could each read it together. Yes, that may sound weird but we had some great discussions over it. Compared to the cost of a date night between restaurant, movie, and a babysitter (this was before I was in the co-op), the cost of two books was peanuts and it allowed us to discuss something other than our child. Lots of conversation, particularly conversation that is not about your kids, is just what marriage counselors recommend.
This past Friday, he went out and got a copy of Deathly Hollows. He finished reading it that night (or really I should say morning before the boys finished breakfast) and then I read it yesterday evening (into the wee hours.) We had some fantastic conversations about the book this morning as we drive to a cousin's birthday party. I won't say much more about the book since I don't want to spoil it. I will say I enjoyed it a lot. I'm looking forward to discussing it with friends. As sad as I am that the series is over, I think she ended it well.
One other note, it never fails to amaze me what my older son chooses to hear me say and remember. "Get your feet off of your brother"? That he never remembers. "Pick up your toys," gets a look of surprise every time as if it is the first time he's heard it. Yet, something that I tell him one time about 5 months ago he remembers. And what would that be? "Mommy, when I'm 18 years old I'm going to wear earrings."
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Great literature and off-hand comments have one-thing in common: they will be remembered forever.
I didn't read the first ones right away either. But you know what, they are fun. And of course I'm all for a good book that gets kids (and adults) to read!
I'd better hurry up & read it if I'm to discuss it with y'all at BlogHer!
I was the same as you. I resisted until after the 4th book came out when I bought the first three in paperback and finished them in the course of two days.
I just finished last night and can't wait until it's safe to discuss them without ruining the ending for other readers. :)
I, too, was a late bloomer when it came to Harry Potter. I haven't had the time to plow through it like the rest of you, but I'm working on it and so far I'm loving it. Filled with action this one. My husband has avoided reading any of the books, but has seen the movies with me. I have resorted to having discussions with my sister and brother-in-law.
Wish I was going to BlogHer to chat about Harry with the rest of you!
Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
good to know!
Sinterklaas left our regions again, the parents here are out of threats now.