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Patience: October 2008 Archives
my first halloween - me, age 26 josiah, age 2
This was my very first Halloween, 6 years ago. For whatever reason we didn't celebrate Halloween when I was a kid. When Josiah was two we made this Thomas the Tank Engine costume at the last minute on Halloween day. It was the dreamiest day. He could barely speak but he helped me paint the cardboard on that cool fall afternoon while the leaves floated around us.
This little boy fell asleep while we trick or treated, I don't even think he realized candy was the thing. He was just so happy to have that train, he played with it for years.
We've been under the magic spell of Halloween ever since. You would have thought last night was the night before Christmas. We put the finishing touches on costumes, children were literally bouncing off the walls, no one could sleep.
So Halloween, bring the joy of dress up and candy goodwill, we can't wait.
The Halloween Report:
1 Construction worker from The Village People (the most enthusiastic Halloween member in our family at the age of 34)
1 Storm Trooper
1 Link (a character from a video game)
1 Princess
1 baby (which is a baby in a Halloween onsie)
Okay, your turn in the comments. Who are you taking trick-or-treating tonight?
Don't forget to check out the awesome parent's guide for Halloween happiness here.
Lucy looking resigned to the don't-wake-the-baby rule.
I don't want to forget but life has a way of pushing us forward making it more difficult to hold on to the sweetness of the everyday.
Here are things I want to remember when I am old and gray...about Lyra, about babies, about family:
How she holds on with her tiny hands when she nurses.
How old ladies in the grocery store fuss over her and want to tell their own stories of babies and love.
How my voice can solve near hysteria.
How my babies looked sleeping on their papa's chest.
How Lucy calls her Mamacita in a voice two octaves higher than her usual.
How every infant I had cried in the car and hated the car seat.
How messy the house was because I held a baby all day long.
How we acted like she was the best tv show and watched her for hours with rapt attention.
How excited we were when she finally "woke up" and would simply stare at us trying to focus.
How tired I am, even with resting all day.
How the brothers rubbed her head and whispered in her ear.
How babies nuzzle in your neck.
How we called her the velcro baby.
How we worshiped and adored each one.
How deep and wide your heart can grow.
Question of the day: What do you want to remember about this stage and time you are living with your child right now? What do you want to forget? Tell us here in the comments or direct us to your favorite post in your blog.
A second reminder was sent home in Lucy's school bag today. The first request was sent weeks ago.
Please be sure to send in a family picture. Thank you for your help.
When did I turn into "that mother"? You know the kind, the one...
who missed the parent night
has the most "spirited" child in the class
forgot to send in her cup for snack time
didn't have a permission slip on the field trip day
has yet to potty train her 3 year old
sent her in with a borderline runny nose
was late to pick her up
I am the preschool slacker, the very kind I reserved a tiny bit of judgment in my heart for when I was a teacher. Do you want to know the strangest part? I'm not nearly as horrified as I should be. Maybe it's because I know I'm doing the best I can and it won't be like this forever, or now I know what it's like to be on the other side, or possibly I'm too tired to care at all.
What I know for sure is yesterday I played mama slam for the first time in months, we've been to the park three times in the last week, the kids raved over the chocolate chip pancakes and eggs for dinner and no one cried on the way to school this morning. All in all, I'm calling it a win for mothering. Who knows, maybe tomorrow I'll even have a family picture to send in after all. Should I send this one?
our attempt at a family photo last tonight (Lyra was under the cut):
Any other supersister slackers out there? Feel free to confess in the comments.
Josiah (the oldest): Mom, I just can't stop looking at her. (while holding Lyra)
Jack (the older middle): Has Josiah held her? I haven't held her yet!
Lucy (the younger middle): Can I pet your baby?
Lyra (the baby): the look on her face as interpreted by her mother-
"Are they gonna hold me again?"
Birth order is just one of the 57,000 ways I like to analyze my children and my parenting. Scratch that, it's more like one of the theories I like to use as a filter when I'm trying to figure out if I'm screwing them up.
Do you think he feels left out?
Do you think we are expecting too much of him?
Do you think we are spoiling her?
I promptly call one of my sisters who remind me of all the best parts of being the oldest, middle and youngest sibling depending on which child I am obsessing over at the moment.
PBS kids suggests you talk to your older kids about this directly which I thought was a fabulous idea.
Tell me Supersisters, do you think you fit the mold when it came to your place in your family growing up? Do you see certain characteristics unfolding in the birth order of your kids?
So I'm only three weeks into this life with four kids but here's what I've learned so far:
1. Four means chaos. It isn't necessarily a bad thing, it's just kind of crazy. All of the sudden Jorge and I looked at each other and I said, "Wow, there are A LOT of people now." He laughed and replied, "And they all need something."
Everyone talks, laughs, cries and yells at the same time. There is more of everything, joy too.
2. Going anywhere requires a strategy. This laid back mama is going to have to plan ahead. Gone are the days of throwing a sandwich in a bag and running out the door.
Is it pathetic that I was proud I actually got them to school on Tuesday? No, not made it to school on time, actually arrived there at all. I had to declare Monday a mental health day as 3 out of the 4 children were crying while we were already 10 minutes late. The adjustment had caught up to everyone so we needed a day to be together without the time monster breathing down our necks.
3. The baby will be mauled. It's like Lyra has her own personal paparrazi and it is enough to make anyone crazy. Everyone wants to touch, hold, pet (as Lucy calls it) her ALL the time. The baby is currently like a cat and only prefers me. I must admit she tolerates the enthusiasm and love pretty well.
4. People stare. Now we are far from the people with the 17 children but everywhere we go I feel people looking at us. It makes me laugh and wonder what they are thinking. Adoration, horror, confusion? People with large families please weigh in. Does this happen to you? or am I paranoid?
I have a feeling this is just the beginning of lots of big family lessons learned. If you have a larger family, please share your stories of tips, triumphs and trials in the comments. I'd love to read them.
Part 2
I told a story of cleaning gone wrong on Friday but I'm back to share a few tips I've learned along the way to avoid total parenting disaster when it comes to collective clean up.
Hope they help the messies at your house.
1. Decide what kind of players (i.e. mess makers) you have. My kids tend to take one kind of toy out at a time and play with it on a grand level. If it's tinker toys, there are exactly one million pieces and projects everywhere BUT they are all the same thing.
When Madeleine and Carter come over, all toys are fair game. Everything is integrated into the play. There are ropes tied to tinker toys, dolls sitting on tinker toy built swings, forts, stuffed animals with tinker toys coming out of their ears...etc. This is a different cleaning animal all together.
My nephew Ethan is completely uninterested with the tinker toys but has very happily dumped the toys so he can turn the box that held them into a car. Or maybe a sled to use down the stairs? Pure physical genius I tell ya.
All of these players might require different clean up habits.
1. We can tell Josiah and Jack they have to clean up the first mess before they take the next toy out.
2. I try to suggest a clean up sooner (after I know they have exhausted the resources) with Madeleine and Carter so we aren't overwhelmed by a bigger mess tomorrow.
3. Ethan needs different resources all together. Plenty of "non-toys" available might curb the dumping or just go with it and pick up throughout the day. Dumping is a big developmental task requirement for some kids and calls us to parental surrender at times.
2. Play that Funky Music. I have recently come to the conclusion for myself that music is the only thing that makes having to clean tolerable in the first place. Loud music. Party music. Something that would other wise invite you to "shake what yo'mama gave ya."
After years of teaching preschool where everything has a song it's amazing that I could forget the same trick might work for my kids.
Let your kids choose the music of choice. It's Queen for Josiah and African music by Putamayo for Jack. Set the environment for at least a little fun sending the message that work doesn't always have to be filled with drudgery. Take short dance breaks if needed.
3. Don't underestimate the power of little kids. Even very young children can participate with the right amount of direction. This always means things take twice as long but it's worth it in the long run. Even toddlers can throw napkins in trash cans and carry plastic plates to the sink. Ethan (a la Montessori) could pour his drinks at the age of two and still clean up the mess he made after.
4.Get in the trenches. Working sided by side teaches kids what to do and how to clean.
I still resist helping my kids and sometimes I pull rank making them muddle through but it still goes much faster (and more cheerfully) when I help.
5. Life is messy. At the end of the day, messes are good. You won't be on your death bed wishing the counter had been free of clutter more often. It's good for parents and kids to have the freedom to discover what happens when we use all of one thing, paint the picture in our minds no matter how big, or enter the most creative parts of ourselves what ever that looks like or how messy it becomes.
Happy mess making and happy cleaning!
Part 1
The scene goes something like this. Little boys disappear for hours on end working on Lego cities and art projects, a little girl wanders the house in various outfits with clean clothes from her drawer and I talk on the phone.
This goes on for a couple days, the rooms get more and more trashed. There are late summer nights and no one even thinks about cleaning at the end of the day. We climb into bed and start a new day with a play date pretending there isn't a tornado of mess at home.
Then comes Thursday, and Friday is video game day. It's the weekend when there is potential for family fun. Something MUST be done today; it's the only day of leverage I have so I start early.
"Guys, you HAVE to clean your room today! Tomorrow is a big day, it's Friday!" I say.
They know and Josiah disappears quickly to begin making a dent. Jack starts negotiating when his first break will be and Lucy has now dumped the entire contents of her shoe box on the floor.
We go back and forth most of the day. Josiah gets distracted by a cool Lego piece he found and starts a new project. Jack has been strategically slacking all day and Lucy is now walking around in Princess heels.
I crack the hardest on Jack throughout the morning because he is the most committed to avoiding the job.
"JACK! I don't want to you to come back to me until ALL the Legos are off of the floor! Go!" I yell.
"Okay mom." He slumps over and slinks back upstairs. We go back and forth until around 4pm when Josiah comes downstairs and asks if I'll come see the progress.
Jack meets me in the stairwell.
J- "Mom, you're takin' it too hard on me."
Me-"What are you talking about?" I ask in disbelief.
J- "You're takin' it too hard on me about the room."
I know he's right, especially from his delivery and the way this child has a history of being a sage. There is no hint of attitude or judgment in his voice, he's just letting me know.
Me- sigh. "I'm sorry. You're right. I don't want to be hard on you. (we hug) I'm frustrated though because it feels like you don't want to do the job and are being a little lazy. I think I'm not doing my job to help show you what to do and you are not doing your job to work hard right? "
J- "Yeah."
Me- "Okay, what if I help you guys finish and you work really hard, we'll knock it out."
J- "Okay mom!"
We are painfully polite and helpful to each other until the room is done. Josiah's happy with the reinforcements and Lucy is now wandering the house in a crown and princess heels.
The room seems like the smaller victory of the day while connection and communication win out again. Isn't it amazing how parenting always forces us to the place that really matters in the end?
Please share your ideas for unlocking clean room superpowers in the comments. I've got my own list going so look for the next part of this post on Tuesday.
Jack bounds out of bed, and appears in my bedroom doorway like some sort of magic. His lanky arms wrap tight around my neck as he falls into my bed. I pretend to be asleep until he turns and insists that I spoon his little frame, he melts and molds into my arms. This morning routine is almost religious for my four year old.
"Is it video game day mama?" he asks.
"No baby, but you can watch George if you want."
Jackie-boy breaks free from my tired embrace and a loud "woohoo!" follows him down the hall. I can be one of those obsessed mothers who worries that surely my kids brains are fried due to television marathons but today is not one of those days. And besides, it's Curious George, that little monkey has saved us in more ways than one.
During the entire year of three, Jack could not resist puddles. It's as if they called to him, like they knew his first name and had a window to his heart. This made for many wet curls, muddy brown socks and endless laundry. My hopes of ever being on time to preschool were pretty much a pipe dream; the call of the puddles was just too great.
It seemed like there were a million other tiny things like the puddles. Things like running his fingers through every groove of the brick on our old row house, pulling out the bottom toilet paper roll at the grocery store display or having to pick every dandelion in sight. A messy disaster could be waiting for me around any corner. On days with agendas and schedules, he could make me so crazy.
I'm sure there are very few moments in parenting where something or someone reveals a whole new way of thinking but thankfully this happened to me. After a particularly tiring day Jack and I were watching Curious George. We have read the books for years but something was different seeing him on the screen that day. It never occurred to me that I've really been rearing a monkey all along. This happy little monkey who must try everything, his inquisitiveness driving his every decision, his need to soak up every part of his world. This was my boy in so many ways.
So now my sometimes motherhood feelings of personal affliction feel so much less personal. I have a new admiration for the man in the yellow hat. It is a camaraderie shared by parents who are rearing joyous little monkeys everywhere.