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Jen: August 2008 Archives
"Hey, Mad--" I call to my sweet girl in a stage whisper--her wild hair a tangle of golden strands on the pillowcase, her growing limbs curled around a pile of blankets. "What do you think about taking chalk and leaving positive messages for the kids to find on their first day of school?"
It takes no time at all for her eyes to pop open and a warm happiness to fill her face. She's still a little bit high off her last kindness adventure with our sister Patience, so her enthusiasm is close to the surface. "Let's do it," she says, sitting up and reaching for her clothes set out carefully beside the bed. "I'll go find the chalk."
The kids eat breakfast while I call my friend Anne who lives down the street to see if she and her son Andrew want in on the guerrilla goodness. "Sounds great!" she says. "We'll be there in five."
The kids are excited now, and I am, too. Isn't it funny how something as simple as offering up a hopeful surprise can make an otherwise stressful morning feel so completely great? Isn't it amazing how doing something for someone else makes so many of your own worries melt?
We meet Anne and Andrew across the street and each chalk out our own individual words of encouragement. Everyone gets to write whatever she or he wants, but the kids' messages are by far the best.
We hide our chalk just in time for the first wave of neighborhood kids come marching up the street. Nothing but delight on those sweet faces--and then their excitement to discover yet another message waiting a few more feet away.
Carter in particular enjoyed taking his covert status as mystery sidewalk chalker very seriously.
What do you think? Feel like sending out some love to your neighborhood this week? Invite your kids to be agents of happiness and hope on the sidewalks nearest you, then upload your pictures to the PBS Parents Supersisters Flickr Pool. Be sure to leave links to your pictures and stories in the comments below.
With the school year really taking off this week, we can't think of a better way to start the year off right.
Madeleine on the first day of school
See that happy, lighthearted girl? She's got nothing on her dear mother who has been using the last three days to lie on the couch and silently cheer. Listen--a silent house! Look--six uninterrupted work hours in the studio! Imagine--no competition for the last remaining bag of chocolate chips!
To say I have been enjoying the bliss of work life without my kids at home is to put it mildly. The only thing that would be better is if I actually had a television with TIVO so I could watch the convention at my own speed--which would involve occasional naps and lots of ice cream.
Still, I'm enjoying picking my kids up everyday and hearing how the new school year is unfolding. Here are three scandalous questions that are sure to get your little Walter Cronkite chatting away in no time:
Who got in trouble today? It sounds wrong, I know, but trust me, there is no better way to unlock the flood gates than to ask this one very simple question. What's so helpful about opening up this conversation is your kids get a chance to reveal their thoughts on adult authority, fairness and strategies for better behavior. With their candid insight about other kids' in-big-trouble woes, you'll get the inside scoop on how it feels to cross the lines and what your kids think adults should do about it.
What did they serve for lunch today? Whether your kids bring lunch from home or order at the cafeteria, your children will be happy to dish on the latest disaster or diner's delight from the school lunch menu. Lunchtime conversation is always a colorful insider look at life in the kid lane. And let's face it--wasn't lunch one of your daily highlights when you were in fourth grade?
What happened on the bus today? By far, there's no drama like the drama that occurs on the big yellow school bus. With a little luck, this will be just the in you need to discuss kid power, peer pressure and everything else that impacts your kids the most. Find out who's who in the politics of kid world and how your kids perceive their own place in the inevitable pecking order. You'll be surprised at how many strong feelings the bus can bring up and how your listening ear can ease the journey.
What questions do you like to ask when you see your kids at the close of a busy day? Feel free to add your own tips to unlock their inner chatty-cathy in the comments below.
Yes, that's my sister, the one whose ear is being loved to death by that dear little boy named Ethan. Some kids have blankies, other kids prefer thumbs--but Ethan, give him his mother's ear and he's good to go.
These are the little things we do as mothers, right? I spent months holding hands with Madeleine from the front seat to the back of the car whenever she started to meltdown as a very busy toddler. Did it drive me a little bit crazy? Yes. Did I make her stop? No. As mothers we understand that these tiny little habits are mostly about our kids needing to find a way to feel connected to us--especially during those early years when they are taking their first steps of independence. There's so much to try and see and do and then there's that moment when you've had just enough. Pass me my mother's ear. And fast.
This morning a thousand little former ear-holders will traipse off to kindergarten, ready as can be, while their mothers stand back in disbelief. Whoever thought she'd be able to function without her blankie? Whoever imagined he could make it through half a day without me right there by his side? All those dear mothers will deem it a miracle, but you and I know the truth: it's the little things we do for love that help our kids understand how much our presence lingers--long after the binkie and blankets fall by the wayside, forgotten at last.
Yes, that's me in yesterday's clothes, traipsing down the street with five children ages almost three to ten. No, they don't all belong to me, but if fate or tragedy ever deemed my sister's children mine, I would take them as my own in a heartbeat. We are on our way to Carter's open house to find out who his first grade teacher will be for the coming school year. I'm not worried, since we put in our request for the kindest dearest soul late last year. If there's any child on earth who genuinely needs a gentle touch to succeed and flourish, it's Carter.
We arrive--the whole lot of us--and quickly make our way to the bulletin board. Ms. V?! Madeleine whispers to me, practically gasping from shock. She's the worst teacher ever! I wouldn't put it quite that way, but I know what she means. Ms. V. has a reputation for having a bit of an edge. And worst of all, she's known among the kids as a yeller. Carter--who above all things cannot bear yelling--immediately, instinctively bursts into tears. My little tribe starts to panic. It goes without saying; this teacher was not on our list.
Carter cries through the classroom tour and all the way home. He puts his head in his hands and tries to make himself disappear along the wall of the house. This is especially tragic since Carter is the easiest going child on earth. His only request is that you not raise your voice. Really. He can endure anything besides that. He is so rarely out-of-sorts, that it's almost impossible to bring him back from the edge when something like this hits him hard. He almost always insists on being left alone.
Carter continues to cry outside while the cadre of cousins holds court inside. I want to stay and sit in silence with Carter, but Madeleine advises against it. "Mom, really, when you do that it makes everything worse. I really think we should just let him be by himself for a minute." I find this hard to believe, and decide to get a second expert kid opinion.
"What do you think?" I ask Josiah, Carter's dearest soul brother and best, best friend.
"I have no idea," he says, feeling as crummy as I do.
"I think I know, Jen," Jack offers. "I think Carter is missing his old teacher." This sage wisdom resonates with everyone. Old and young alike let out a collective sigh. Oh the sorrows of missing a favorite familiar teacher, especially so near the first day of everything new!
Carter saying good-bye to his favorite teacher from last year, Ms. R, on his last day of school
It takes us this long to realize we are missing Lucy who at almost three years old is clearly on her own program, having no regard for Carter's silly needs for privacy at such a dire time as this. When we find her, she is standing outside beside the sobbing Carter--petting him like her favorite stuffed puppy dog, saying, "Don't cry, Carter. Don't cry. It's okay, it's okay."
Carter remains an island of annoyance and tears, but I can tell he feels a little bit better. In no time, Carter comes back inside--the storm passed for now. I assure him that together we'll find a way to work this out, but he hardly needs me to tell him what Lucy already made plain: that sometimes the only way through is to let someone small and safe inside--the kind of dear soul who can't imagine having rules when it comes to love, no matter how loud you cry or how much you're convinced you have to go it alone.
What are your tried and true bits of wisdom for helping kids make a tricky transition to a less-than-ideal teacher? This super-sister would really love to know.
madeleine holding kris's son nathan
This morning, the magical Madeleine turns ten years old! It seems like only yesterday I was covered in spit-up, walking up and down our busy street, praying like crazy that anything, anything at all would help her settle down so we could all get some much needed sleep. I had no idea how much joy and happiness being the mother of such a wild, warm-hearted girl would bring me. Here's my list of ways to love a 10 year old today and everyday as she enters a new chapter of her growing up adventure.
1. Put her at the head of the table. That's right. Your girl has things to say and she needs an audience. By making sure she gets a turn now and then at the head of the table, you let her and your family know it's totally okay for your girl to command the attention of a room. You'll be surprised at how savvy she is and how much she has to say about things that matter to you, too.
2. Ask her to tell you her dreams and take notes. Inside every 35 year old mother is a ten year old girl trying to get out. Now is the time to give her hopes and aspirations full airtime--these tender dreams hold the keys to the truest version of her best self. Don't be scared if she says she wants to be the next Hannah Montana touring the globe--little girl rockstar dreams have more to do with the deep wish to be seen and respected than anything else.
3. Let her glory in every single moment of inflated self-confidence. Did she make the honor roll? Discover she can swim the length of the pool after all? Let her run with her happiness and pride as far as it will take her. Too often we encourage our girls to be demure and modest when a healthy dose of uber-confidence will take her so much further.
4. Ask other people to be quiet so she can finish her story. She's chatty, I know, but wouldn't you rather know every last thing on her heart instead of watch her sulk in the back of the car? Turn off your need to get her in line and take a turn listening to the twists and turn of her drama-loving life.
5. Indulge her promiscuous love of books. Turn her curiosity about grown-up things into a sophisticated knowledge of good literature. Now is the time to introduce her to the tried and true favorites of your own girlhood along with some new titles that will stretch her mind. This year Madeleine and I have had interesting talks about Iran and growing up during a revolution thanks to the brilliance of the Persepolis series (mother advisory required).
6. Turn up the music. It's not my favorite thing to do, always preferring the goodness of NPR to any top 40 pop music torture, but nothing means more to Madeleine than five minutes of her favorite music blaring out the windows on the ride to the grocery store. I don't understand it completely, but there's a certain kind of joy for her in this that you just can't duplicate anywhere else.
7. Remind her she doesn't have to be in a hurry to grow up. She's trying out her power moves, I know--groaning and moaning when you ask the simplest thing or waiting to see if you'll lose it if she dares give you the eye roll. Don't forget that underneath all that attitude is a little girl who probably still needs to sit on your lap, to have you brush out her hair or hold her every once in a while as she drifts gently off to sleep. Be bold in asking for hugs and insisting on tenderness between you in quiet moments. She needs it and you do, too.
8. Institute girls' night out. Admit it, there's a part of you that is dying to see the latest, greatest girl movie with all the cheese whiz and over-the-top acting. Here's your chance to do girlhood all over again, so do it right by giving your girl all the things you missed the first time around--time alone with your mother learning what it means to be a girl from her unique perspective.
9. Be her best cover. She's keenly aware of where your family rules fall in the continuum of lenient to strict in the kid stratosphere. Help her navigate the differences by being her best excuse when the invitations on the table feel inappropriate for your family's sense of sensibility. The same works in reverse when she knows your invitation will be met with reserve by more cautious parents. Let her know you'll help her not be embarrassed by the inevitable disconnects.
10. Dance with your girl like it's 1999. She'll love laughing at your moves and you'll be delighted to learn as she shows you a thing or two. Let her see it's okay to be silly, to not do it right and to let your heart go--especially for the sake of good-hearted fun.
What would have done your heart good at age 10? Add to our list in the comments below.
josiah (center) blissed out on the boy tribe with brother jack (left) and his cousin carter (right)
Growing up in a family of sisters, I had no idea what I was in for when I found out we were having a boy so many years ago. Being the oh-so-progressive mother with her own fair share of women's studies classes in her brief college career, I wanted to believe it wouldn't make much of a difference. Kids are kids, right? Boys, shmoys. How different could they be?
For the most part, I think I was right. What makes Carter different from Madeleine has more to do with his personality than anything else--at least so far. But one thing has truly surprised me--Carter's insatiable need to have a boy tribe, especially when that tribe has any chance of including his boy cousins, Josiah and Jack.
Occasional family dinners where the kids might play for an hour or two quickly evolve into all day playdates which give way to weekend extravaganzas of boy goodness. Good-byes turn more tearful with each visit. Sisters have to barter and bargain to beat off the daily question, "Are we going to Josiah's house today? I have an idea! Let's go there NOW!"
Being together with the boy tribe is everything. I have no idea how to explain this phenomenon other than these boys are finding a kind of happiness in their together play that I didn't know was possible--even if that togetherness is measured in burps shared, Lego structures conquered and finding out who can out laugh who over silly jokes that go straight over my head.
Without a tribe of boys--his cousins or otherwise--I find Carter getting a little wistful, more than a lot fidgety and absolutely soul sick for the kind of friendship only another boy can provide. I'm finally understanding this is no small thing, and that nurturing the boy tribe is one easy and healthy way to help Carter deepen his sense that he belongs.
How about you and your boys? Do you find your boys need to run in a pack? Is it just me or do the intricacies of sisterhood have a very different quality? Your thoughts on boy tribes are more than welcome in the comments below.
See that magic girl? The one with the glasses, the one with the eye roll, the one with a quick comeback when her ancient mother says the simplest thing like "why is there a concoction of sugar, salt and conditioner in a bowl in the bathroom?" That's my girl Madeleine--explorer, sage, creative, wild child, friend of babies, lover of dolls. She's almost ten, but don't let that fool you. Underneath all the sass we mothers of tweenagers endure is a tiny girl who still wants someone to hold her, someone to sing to her, someone to suggest a hot warm bath with lots of bubbles and the silliest toys. I'm learning--even in the terror of teen years just around the corner--that she's still really quite small, and that I'm small, too. If I can dare push back all my big girl worries, I can see things clearly: that we both still need to play, still need to be told, still need to have fun.
Even if it means "experiments" in the kitchen and all that wonder, messiness and magic that is sure to follow.