Peanut has been talking an awful lot about his Dad lately. It's a struggle for me because he has never met his Dad. He was born in MN, his Dad was in TX and two days after he was born, his Dad went to prison. These are complex issues to try to relay to a 6 year old in a way that he can understand.
I have been confused as to why this is coming up all of a sudden. I'm not afraid to talk to my children about it. I want them to come to me. I made a promise to them, in my heart, that I would be honest with them about what happened and that I would not vilify their Dad in any way that he has not already done himself. I would speak only truth, not trash talk. But honestly, that gets really hard when I see the pain on their faces and when Peanut asks me, "Why did you tell the police to come and take my Dad away? Couldn't you have not told them?"
Ugh.
Those are the moments when I pray for wisdom and the right words to come and I try to listen for the underlying questions.
Yesterday, Peanut was singing a song that went something like "It's time to go home to see your mom and your dad..."
I did not need lightning bolts or handwriting on the wall to clue me in to that one.
"Peanut, do you sing that song at school?"
"Yes. Every day before we go home."
"Does that song make you think about your Dad?"
"Yes. I don't go home and see my Dad but everyone else does."
Ugh. Ugh. Ugh.
"Awww, baby. I know it is hard to not have a dad at home. But you do have a Mom who loves you very much. You also have a Grandpa, Grandma, Auntie Desert Bloom, Auntie Mrs, Uncle Biker Boy, Great Grandma...Soooo many people love you. And you have Jesus and He is with you all the time."
"I know. I just wish I could see my Dad."
It's not that I want my kids to hate their father. I don't want them to grow up with hate in their hearts. But in all honesty, I often feel that he does not deserve their love. Other then provide half of their DNA, he is nothing in their lives but a ghost, a reminder to them that they are different. They don't have a two-parent family. They don't fit what they see on TV with father's playing catch with sons or coaching their sports teams or taking them fishing. I would hate to break it to them and tell them that their father, were he around would not be doing those things with them anyway. He would disappoint them in that area too.
He was extremely self-absorbed. To this day, when he writes to me annually on Mother's Day and my birthday (which really makes May suck, thank you very much) he refers to them not by name, individually but as "the kids" or "the kiddo's". He tries to imply an intimate relationship with them that is just not there. He does not get that. He is not here through the good and the bad. He doesn't get to celebrate the victories in their lives or hug them when they lose or miss the mark. He's not here when they are sick and fevered, vomiting all over every surface in the house. He, in my mind, has not earned the right to refer to them in a group or by a nickname.
To me, this pattern of his, that he has repeated over the last 6 years of referring to them en masse, just continues to show me that they are merely objects in his world, they are things he feels belong to him, but they are not individuals. They are not people to him. They are things.
I wish I could explain that to my children but I know that it would scar them and hurt them far worse then the fantasy father they have. At some point, when they are old enough, and I have told them this, the court order for no contact will no longer apply because they will be adults, and they can write to him and visit him if they want to. I know that should they pursue that, he will disappoint them. He will hurt them. And I will be here to catch them. I can protect them now as best I can. It's the only thing I can do.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Self Perception
The other day, a friend described me as outgoing. I was floored. This is not a word I would have ever used to describe myself. I'm an introvert. I have since learned that introverts don't NOT like people, we do, but we also need a lot of "alone time" to regroup and recharge. I have a job that requires a lot of time with people, both co-workers and clients and people in the community. And then I get home and I have 4 more little people who also require my time and energy. In order to refresh myself and get ready for the next day, I need quiet things that relax me. I scrapbook. I knit. I read. I watch some TV.
To me, an outgoing person is someone who is bubbly and always on the go, busy chatting it up with people all the time. Like my sister, The Mrs., she can talk to anyone at anytime and in fact, the more she is around people, the more energy she gets. She loves the city and the energy. I find it exhausting. I'm an introvert. She's an extrovert.
So, I asked another friend about this term "outgoing". She agreed that she would consider me outgoing but not someone who needs the spotlight or all the attention. OK. That is making more sense. That is true. I'm content to be behind the scenes. I don't need to run the show and "be seen". She also told me that I seem to be confident and comfortable with myself. Hmmmm. I like that. That is a good thing. That is something I have been striving for.
What is weird however, is that I have not seen that in myself. I sometimes still see myself as the mousy, frumpy, forever pregnant housewife who did not voice opinions, who did not rock boats, who did not speak up but did what she was asked without complaint. Is it possible then that I have changed in ways that I did not even know about?
This was good news to me. It made me feel great. I want to be seen as confident. I am proud of what I have accomplished and where I have come from. I have gone through a lot of muck and mire to get here. And it seems that this is shining through, even though I still look at myself and see the problems, the mistakes, all the things that still are not going right.
I worry that I am fake. But I think if you worry that you are fake, then you are probably not. Fake people think they are real. When I was married, I had a fake veneer. From the outside, I looked like I had it all together. I had the husband with the good job, the house in the suburbs, the cute blond kids, nice car but I was living a lie. No one knew that behind that veneer was a dark secret. Some of the secrets I did not even know about. My husband worked very hard to keep up the appearance that everything was fine while the reality was that everything was crumbling and the life we had was about to fall apart. But we were good at hiding the truth from most people. And the ones who could see something was wrong, my husband found ways to push them out of our lives.
That is why I worry about being fake. I want to be genuine. I want to be real. I want who I am on the inside to shine through to the outside. Someone I have not met in my office, but is on an email loop with me, told me she has to meet me because my email was so funny she about fell off her chair. Really? There was a time in my life when no one laughed at my jokes but me. And now a stranger tells me I am funny and a friend tells me I am outgoing. And those are two things I have always wanted to be.
To me, an outgoing person is someone who is bubbly and always on the go, busy chatting it up with people all the time. Like my sister, The Mrs., she can talk to anyone at anytime and in fact, the more she is around people, the more energy she gets. She loves the city and the energy. I find it exhausting. I'm an introvert. She's an extrovert.
So, I asked another friend about this term "outgoing". She agreed that she would consider me outgoing but not someone who needs the spotlight or all the attention. OK. That is making more sense. That is true. I'm content to be behind the scenes. I don't need to run the show and "be seen". She also told me that I seem to be confident and comfortable with myself. Hmmmm. I like that. That is a good thing. That is something I have been striving for.
What is weird however, is that I have not seen that in myself. I sometimes still see myself as the mousy, frumpy, forever pregnant housewife who did not voice opinions, who did not rock boats, who did not speak up but did what she was asked without complaint. Is it possible then that I have changed in ways that I did not even know about?
This was good news to me. It made me feel great. I want to be seen as confident. I am proud of what I have accomplished and where I have come from. I have gone through a lot of muck and mire to get here. And it seems that this is shining through, even though I still look at myself and see the problems, the mistakes, all the things that still are not going right.
I worry that I am fake. But I think if you worry that you are fake, then you are probably not. Fake people think they are real. When I was married, I had a fake veneer. From the outside, I looked like I had it all together. I had the husband with the good job, the house in the suburbs, the cute blond kids, nice car but I was living a lie. No one knew that behind that veneer was a dark secret. Some of the secrets I did not even know about. My husband worked very hard to keep up the appearance that everything was fine while the reality was that everything was crumbling and the life we had was about to fall apart. But we were good at hiding the truth from most people. And the ones who could see something was wrong, my husband found ways to push them out of our lives.
That is why I worry about being fake. I want to be genuine. I want to be real. I want who I am on the inside to shine through to the outside. Someone I have not met in my office, but is on an email loop with me, told me she has to meet me because my email was so funny she about fell off her chair. Really? There was a time in my life when no one laughed at my jokes but me. And now a stranger tells me I am funny and a friend tells me I am outgoing. And those are two things I have always wanted to be.
Monday, May 25, 2009
The best weekend
I think what has been the best thing about my really great weekend is that I did not plan any of it. It all just sort of happened. There were moments that were far from perfect but overall, that does not diminish this weekend as being one of my favorites in a really long time.
Friday night, my family and I celebrated my birthday with ice cream at Dairy Queen. My oldest 3 children spent that time entertaining their aunt: Desert Bloom with various jokes and silly stories. I sat with my parents and Peanut and just enjoyed my ice cream and opening some presents. That is always fun. I like presents. One gift from my sister was a slinky and I knew that I would not get to play with that gift.
On Saturday, we spent the afternoon at the pool. We just splashed and relaxed. The kids have been waiting for the pool to open since...well...since it closed last summer. I enjoyed watching Peanut swimming around like a fish, diving in the water, jumping and just enjoying himself. Princess was born with gills and apparently when water hits them, her ears close and she cannot hear the outside world. It took 5 minutes of calling her name and then her brother chasing her all around the pool in order to get her attention and tell her it was time to go.
I think Sunday was my favorite day of all. After church, we went on a picnic to Elm Creek Park Reserve and joined 3 other families. The kids played for hours while the adults chatted and laughed.
BB however had it determined in his head that this event should last only about 45 minutes and he wanted to go back home so that he could go to his friend J's house. I warned him that he should not make plans without consulting me and I told him that the times he gave his friend were not accurate. I also told him I did not want him to spend the afternoon asking me if it was time to go.
I refused to look at the clock but when I did, it was 5pm. And this sent him through the roof. He began to pitch a fit. It was quiet at first but when I did not respond, he increased the intensity and pretty soon, he was banging into me. In a way, I was glad that some of my friends saw him act this way because for the most part, he only does this at home. I also wanted him to realize that he does not always get his way and he does not get to control everything because of his notions of how long things should take. I refused to look at my cell phone for the time because I did not want him to be focused on the time.
He did wind up missing the chance to go play with his friend because it was almost 7 by the time we got home. He was mad but he did calm himself down. And he did so in a manner that was a tremendous improvement over previous disappointments. He grumbled and he was owly with us but he did not strike out at anyone. He did no destruction and he eventually got himself calmed down to the point that he was able to enjoy swimming and a funny movie in the evening.
I think we ended on that high note.
Friday night, my family and I celebrated my birthday with ice cream at Dairy Queen. My oldest 3 children spent that time entertaining their aunt: Desert Bloom with various jokes and silly stories. I sat with my parents and Peanut and just enjoyed my ice cream and opening some presents. That is always fun. I like presents. One gift from my sister was a slinky and I knew that I would not get to play with that gift.
On Saturday, we spent the afternoon at the pool. We just splashed and relaxed. The kids have been waiting for the pool to open since...well...since it closed last summer. I enjoyed watching Peanut swimming around like a fish, diving in the water, jumping and just enjoying himself. Princess was born with gills and apparently when water hits them, her ears close and she cannot hear the outside world. It took 5 minutes of calling her name and then her brother chasing her all around the pool in order to get her attention and tell her it was time to go.
I think Sunday was my favorite day of all. After church, we went on a picnic to Elm Creek Park Reserve and joined 3 other families. The kids played for hours while the adults chatted and laughed.
BB however had it determined in his head that this event should last only about 45 minutes and he wanted to go back home so that he could go to his friend J's house. I warned him that he should not make plans without consulting me and I told him that the times he gave his friend were not accurate. I also told him I did not want him to spend the afternoon asking me if it was time to go.
I refused to look at the clock but when I did, it was 5pm. And this sent him through the roof. He began to pitch a fit. It was quiet at first but when I did not respond, he increased the intensity and pretty soon, he was banging into me. In a way, I was glad that some of my friends saw him act this way because for the most part, he only does this at home. I also wanted him to realize that he does not always get his way and he does not get to control everything because of his notions of how long things should take. I refused to look at my cell phone for the time because I did not want him to be focused on the time.
He did wind up missing the chance to go play with his friend because it was almost 7 by the time we got home. He was mad but he did calm himself down. And he did so in a manner that was a tremendous improvement over previous disappointments. He grumbled and he was owly with us but he did not strike out at anyone. He did no destruction and he eventually got himself calmed down to the point that he was able to enjoy swimming and a funny movie in the evening.
I think we ended on that high note.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
You can ground me if you want to....
If I had not been so STEAMING mad, these words coming out of my 12 year old's mouth would have made me laugh until my sides ached. In the moment however, they only made me more angry.
Oh you are grounded, young lady. Count on it.
"For how long?"
I haven't figured that out yet. I'm still to mad to think straight but I will let you know.
I don't know if I have ever mentioned my alter ego, Yolanda on my blog before. She started out as a joke when I had a land-line and I asked to have my number unpublished. My phone number would show up on caller ID's as "Yolanda..." somebody. My Mom started calling me Yolanda and we would giggle. Then my friend KMB told me about his hulk moments with his kids. I believe he told me that his kids were probably wondering if he had turned back into Bruce Banner yet. I thought that was hilarious. So, then we started looking up the She-hulk but she apparently stayed in her green hulk form and became more of a lawyer type for the justice league. So, my alter ego Yolanda was born. When my kids get me really mad, and it takes a lot, Yolanda comes to visit with her foot a stompin' and her gum a snappin' and her loud voice telling the children, "Oh no you di'int..."
Yolanda came over last night. The living room becomes a real sore spot for me. And I had reached my threshold of Mess Tolerance. I told the kids to start picking up and not one of them looked me in the eye or stopped what they were doing. When I mentioned this, Princess said, "I am listening, Mom"
Well, it does not seem like it. You are not looking at me. You are not moving in a direction that would show me you have any intention of doing what I ask. Your brothers are continuing to play their video game. Nobody is moving. Therefore, no one is listening.
"But I AM listening."
Ding dong....Yolanda walks in and takes charge. Feet are scrambling, arms are flying and butts are moving. However, my kids have this tendency to "disappear" upstairs or into the bathroom for long periods of time. I called them on that and got nothing but flak for it. Flak and a whole lot of attitude.
The boys were busy cleaning under Yolanda's watchful eye and foot tapping. But Princess disappeared. Yolanda called up. No answer. She called again. Nothing. At this point, I went upstairs for the first time since I left for work.
When I got up there, I screamed. There was laundry, clean and dirty spread all over the floor in the hall and the boys room. Upturned laundry baskets all over the place and the door to Princess and my room was shut tight.
"Giiiiirrrrrrrrlllll....You better open that door right now... And answer me."
Nothing. I opened the door and there is Princess laying face down on MY bed. Ignoring me.
"I have been calling you over and over. You have not answered. Get up NOW."
She refused again.
"Get up NOW."
She stood up and said, "I'm tired of the boys being mean to me. You can ground me if you want to."
"We have another issue here. Right now, the issue is not your brothers being mean. The issue is your obedience. You were told, as was everyone else, that everyone works on the living room until it is done. I have called you and called you and you have ignored me. This is a big problem. And yes, you are grounded. But you still have to go down stairs and clean up the living room."
She muttered something about things not being fair and walked out of the room. Yolanda marched down after her.
"No one says a word about things being unfair. Do you understand me? This is not about fairness. You are talking to the wrong person about what is fair and what is not fair. Life is not ever going to be completely fair. You have to learn to deal with things the way they are. So, each one of you will get this living room clean. I will be sorting through the tornado that blew through upstairs and I don't want to hear an argument, a peep or anything remotely related to a squeak about who is doing what or not...DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"
My living room is clean. For now. It took me an hour to sort through the laundry mess upstairs. Yolanda left until she is needed again. Princess will be grounded. I need to come up with a fair amount for her sauciness and disobedience.
Oh you are grounded, young lady. Count on it.
"For how long?"
I haven't figured that out yet. I'm still to mad to think straight but I will let you know.
I don't know if I have ever mentioned my alter ego, Yolanda on my blog before. She started out as a joke when I had a land-line and I asked to have my number unpublished. My phone number would show up on caller ID's as "Yolanda..." somebody. My Mom started calling me Yolanda and we would giggle. Then my friend KMB told me about his hulk moments with his kids. I believe he told me that his kids were probably wondering if he had turned back into Bruce Banner yet. I thought that was hilarious. So, then we started looking up the She-hulk but she apparently stayed in her green hulk form and became more of a lawyer type for the justice league. So, my alter ego Yolanda was born. When my kids get me really mad, and it takes a lot, Yolanda comes to visit with her foot a stompin' and her gum a snappin' and her loud voice telling the children, "Oh no you di'int..."
Yolanda came over last night. The living room becomes a real sore spot for me. And I had reached my threshold of Mess Tolerance. I told the kids to start picking up and not one of them looked me in the eye or stopped what they were doing. When I mentioned this, Princess said, "I am listening, Mom"
Well, it does not seem like it. You are not looking at me. You are not moving in a direction that would show me you have any intention of doing what I ask. Your brothers are continuing to play their video game. Nobody is moving. Therefore, no one is listening.
"But I AM listening."
Ding dong....Yolanda walks in and takes charge. Feet are scrambling, arms are flying and butts are moving. However, my kids have this tendency to "disappear" upstairs or into the bathroom for long periods of time. I called them on that and got nothing but flak for it. Flak and a whole lot of attitude.
The boys were busy cleaning under Yolanda's watchful eye and foot tapping. But Princess disappeared. Yolanda called up. No answer. She called again. Nothing. At this point, I went upstairs for the first time since I left for work.
When I got up there, I screamed. There was laundry, clean and dirty spread all over the floor in the hall and the boys room. Upturned laundry baskets all over the place and the door to Princess and my room was shut tight.
"Giiiiirrrrrrrrlllll....You better open that door right now... And answer me."
Nothing. I opened the door and there is Princess laying face down on MY bed. Ignoring me.
"I have been calling you over and over. You have not answered. Get up NOW."
She refused again.
"Get up NOW."
She stood up and said, "I'm tired of the boys being mean to me. You can ground me if you want to."
"We have another issue here. Right now, the issue is not your brothers being mean. The issue is your obedience. You were told, as was everyone else, that everyone works on the living room until it is done. I have called you and called you and you have ignored me. This is a big problem. And yes, you are grounded. But you still have to go down stairs and clean up the living room."
She muttered something about things not being fair and walked out of the room. Yolanda marched down after her.
"No one says a word about things being unfair. Do you understand me? This is not about fairness. You are talking to the wrong person about what is fair and what is not fair. Life is not ever going to be completely fair. You have to learn to deal with things the way they are. So, each one of you will get this living room clean. I will be sorting through the tornado that blew through upstairs and I don't want to hear an argument, a peep or anything remotely related to a squeak about who is doing what or not...DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"
My living room is clean. For now. It took me an hour to sort through the laundry mess upstairs. Yolanda left until she is needed again. Princess will be grounded. I need to come up with a fair amount for her sauciness and disobedience.
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Another candle on the cake...
I don't recommend lighting 38 candles. Not without warning the fire department in advance and taking all other proper precautions. All kidding aside, I do not dread this birthday. Even with the supposedly dreaded BIG 4-0 looming around the corner. I have earned every hour, day, week and month of this year. The laugh lines emerging around my eyes...they are from laughing. I have very few frown lines because I don't frown for long. I have had a tough year but looking back, I see that it is just part of my journey. And for that, I feel like celebrating!
What I have learned between the year of 37 and 38:
1. Life is unpredictable. Tornadoes can blow through your neighborhood. You can watch a client go through the devastation of losing everything in a house fire. The government can garnish your wages for a tax issue that turns out to be a mistake and while the money will be refunded...it is not returned as quickly as it was taken.
My take home lessons from these observations: Get renter's insurance. Improve my filing and save everything financial. Don't give up, even if you are in the wrong, ask the questions and get the answers. You may be surprised!
2. Children really change a lot in a year. Last summer, I could not trust my kids to be alone for more than an hour tops and even then they managed to find trouble. This lead to a couple visits from the Sheriff's department, a couple phone calls from Social Services and a tiny blurb about an escapade on the roof in the newspaper. Throughout the year, each of my children has shown increased maturity. Princess does an excellent job keeping track of Peanut. She is also learning how to cook and can make simple dinners or lunches. With the exception of Peanut, the kids can manage being home if they are sick without a Hover Mother and they know they can reach me by cell or text.
My take home lessons from these experiences: Babysitting class for Princess. Clear rules about where the kids can and cannot play. Safety rules like keeping the doors locked and the garage shut, don't answer the door and sticking together when they do play outside. I also talked a lot about how we are a family and we are to look out for each other because that is what families do. A big key is COMMUNICATION.
3. Managing a family is hard. Duh. So, not only do I have my job but now I have children in elementary and middle school. There are school parties, youth group activities, projects, projects and more projects. Add in to that basketball practice and games, baseball practice and games, concerts and conferences, and lots and lots of doctor appointments.
Take home lesson: Calendar!! We have also learned that we can't say yes to everything and sometimes we have to choose.
4. Money is a tool but without good management skills, it is a monster.
Take home lesson: seek wise counsel. Diligence, patience and hard work.
5. Enjoy the sunshine, the laughter and embrace the silly now and then.
What I have learned between the year of 37 and 38:
1. Life is unpredictable. Tornadoes can blow through your neighborhood. You can watch a client go through the devastation of losing everything in a house fire. The government can garnish your wages for a tax issue that turns out to be a mistake and while the money will be refunded...it is not returned as quickly as it was taken.
My take home lessons from these observations: Get renter's insurance. Improve my filing and save everything financial. Don't give up, even if you are in the wrong, ask the questions and get the answers. You may be surprised!
2. Children really change a lot in a year. Last summer, I could not trust my kids to be alone for more than an hour tops and even then they managed to find trouble. This lead to a couple visits from the Sheriff's department, a couple phone calls from Social Services and a tiny blurb about an escapade on the roof in the newspaper. Throughout the year, each of my children has shown increased maturity. Princess does an excellent job keeping track of Peanut. She is also learning how to cook and can make simple dinners or lunches. With the exception of Peanut, the kids can manage being home if they are sick without a Hover Mother and they know they can reach me by cell or text.
My take home lessons from these experiences: Babysitting class for Princess. Clear rules about where the kids can and cannot play. Safety rules like keeping the doors locked and the garage shut, don't answer the door and sticking together when they do play outside. I also talked a lot about how we are a family and we are to look out for each other because that is what families do. A big key is COMMUNICATION.
3. Managing a family is hard. Duh. So, not only do I have my job but now I have children in elementary and middle school. There are school parties, youth group activities, projects, projects and more projects. Add in to that basketball practice and games, baseball practice and games, concerts and conferences, and lots and lots of doctor appointments.
Take home lesson: Calendar!! We have also learned that we can't say yes to everything and sometimes we have to choose.
4. Money is a tool but without good management skills, it is a monster.
Take home lesson: seek wise counsel. Diligence, patience and hard work.
5. Enjoy the sunshine, the laughter and embrace the silly now and then.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Saturday Stuff
I love Saturdays. It is probably my favorite day of the week. Even if I spend a bit of time doing my least favorite activities revolving around housework, I still enjoy Saturday.
Today, I went to my Weight Watcher's meeting and decided that my number is not moving in the right direction. I need to get myself excited again. My daughter wants to go on walks with me. So, I decided that when I got home, we would take a walk. I did not factor in that it was so cold! However, that did not deter us. My now 8 year old PH, had a new razor scooter that he wanted to try out. BB grabbed his bike, Princess pulled Peanut in the wagon and we walked. I grabbed my camera, just in case I found photo worthy opportunities. With kids, I always do.
We walked over towards this area that has these drainage ponds. BB told me he saw a fish and thought it was a Muskie. I laughed and then told him that the water is not deep enough for Muskie but there may be Crappies or Bullhead's in there.
I really enjoyed watching the kids running back and forth between two ponds that are connected by two large concrete pipes. They figured out these make excellent communication devices so one would lie down at one end and then another would lie down at the other and they would call back and forth or sing a song to each other. Then PH got the idea of spitting into the water and running back to watch it come out the other side.
My favorite moment was when BB, with his hood pulled around his face, his cheeks rosy from the wind, smiling broadly, said, "This is starting out to be a really good day."
Some days, I look at him, remembering back just 6 months ago when he was pitching fits, hitting me, destroying lamps, and I can hardly believe this is the same boy. Something has change in him. I don't know what it is. I don't know when it happened but this child is happy. And it is fantastic! To see this, it makes everything worth it. We both learned a lot and have grown and changed.
Yesterday, it was PH's 8th birthday and we were driving over to Grandma's for a party. The kids were excited and were bouncing, literally, out of their seats. I was telling them all to buckle up and BB starts to repeat everything I say. I said, "I don't need a chorus."
BB suddenly breaks into song, "Happy...birthday....happy...happy...birthday...." It was so cute, I started laughing silently and he says, "Mom, why are you bouncing?"
At that point, I just burst out laughing. The tension was broken. That's my funny, bright boy.
Today, I went to my Weight Watcher's meeting and decided that my number is not moving in the right direction. I need to get myself excited again. My daughter wants to go on walks with me. So, I decided that when I got home, we would take a walk. I did not factor in that it was so cold! However, that did not deter us. My now 8 year old PH, had a new razor scooter that he wanted to try out. BB grabbed his bike, Princess pulled Peanut in the wagon and we walked. I grabbed my camera, just in case I found photo worthy opportunities. With kids, I always do.
We walked over towards this area that has these drainage ponds. BB told me he saw a fish and thought it was a Muskie. I laughed and then told him that the water is not deep enough for Muskie but there may be Crappies or Bullhead's in there.
I really enjoyed watching the kids running back and forth between two ponds that are connected by two large concrete pipes. They figured out these make excellent communication devices so one would lie down at one end and then another would lie down at the other and they would call back and forth or sing a song to each other. Then PH got the idea of spitting into the water and running back to watch it come out the other side.
My favorite moment was when BB, with his hood pulled around his face, his cheeks rosy from the wind, smiling broadly, said, "This is starting out to be a really good day."
Some days, I look at him, remembering back just 6 months ago when he was pitching fits, hitting me, destroying lamps, and I can hardly believe this is the same boy. Something has change in him. I don't know what it is. I don't know when it happened but this child is happy. And it is fantastic! To see this, it makes everything worth it. We both learned a lot and have grown and changed.
Yesterday, it was PH's 8th birthday and we were driving over to Grandma's for a party. The kids were excited and were bouncing, literally, out of their seats. I was telling them all to buckle up and BB starts to repeat everything I say. I said, "I don't need a chorus."
BB suddenly breaks into song, "Happy...birthday....happy...happy...birthday...." It was so cute, I started laughing silently and he says, "Mom, why are you bouncing?"
At that point, I just burst out laughing. The tension was broken. That's my funny, bright boy.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
Amazed...
Last summer, I was struggling with having my 3 boys in one room. It was a constant battle every night to get them to settle down. I was exhausted because I did not get to bed before midnight for months. I don't remember exactly when the idea came to me, it was truly a God-inspired insight, but one night I had had enough and I suggested to BB that he just go sleep on the couch. Almost immediately, everyone fell asleep. So, he did it again the next night and again everyone fell asleep. I was able to get to bed around 10. This went on for over a week. I noticed a remarkable change in everyone.
So, I discussed it with BB and we decided that he could continue to sleep on the couch as long as he wants to. The livingroom, at night, would essentially be his bedroom. It was not ideal. I had to give up that space and the area so that I could relax there as well but it was worth it for the peace of mind, and the rest I was able to get.
BB and I discussed that he would always have the option to sleep in his own bed. I even put in a loft for him. He tried it one night but then went back down to the couch.
This week, he has started sleeping his own bed, of his own volition. I tried not to make it a big deal but I did ask him this morning why he was sleeping up there. He just kind of shrugged. I smiled at him and said, "It's comfortable up there, isn't it? Maybe we can put the sheets back on and make it real cozy." He smiled at me.
Something is changing in that boy and I like it alot.
So, I discussed it with BB and we decided that he could continue to sleep on the couch as long as he wants to. The livingroom, at night, would essentially be his bedroom. It was not ideal. I had to give up that space and the area so that I could relax there as well but it was worth it for the peace of mind, and the rest I was able to get.
BB and I discussed that he would always have the option to sleep in his own bed. I even put in a loft for him. He tried it one night but then went back down to the couch.
This week, he has started sleeping his own bed, of his own volition. I tried not to make it a big deal but I did ask him this morning why he was sleeping up there. He just kind of shrugged. I smiled at him and said, "It's comfortable up there, isn't it? Maybe we can put the sheets back on and make it real cozy." He smiled at me.
Something is changing in that boy and I like it alot.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Sometimes...you just gotta let go
It happened one day when I watched BB swing across the monkey bars and then he started climbing across the top. I wanted to jump out of my chair and tell him, "Get down before you fall and get hurt..." and I imagined him falling on his face, blood pouring out of numerous scrapes and white bones poking out of every limb.
It took everything I had within me to sit in my chair and cheer, "Good job, BB! Way to go! Look at you!!"
I know that if I had told him he could get hurt and then demanded he get down, he would have done one of two things: climbed back down, pouting and feeling embarrassed perhaps he would be more cautious and fearful the next time or he could have continued on as he was with more determination and next time upping the ante, doing more and more outrageous stunts just to prove me wrong.
I had to let go. I had to let him try. He finished climbing across the top of the monkey bars that day. He did it many more times that summer. He never fell. He never did fall or even so much as break open a blister. And the grin on his face told me he was proud of his accomplishment.
It's happened at other times too and with the other kids. They each learned how to ride a bike. I left the training wheels on until I saw confidence growing and the the training wheels were not actually touching the ground any longer and then I took them off. BB hopped on his bike, wobbled for a bit and the took off like a rocket. He fell often, usually when trying to stop and would comment, "Wow! I'm biking but I think I need to work some more on my landing!"
Princess could not be left behind, so she saw BB riding and she asked me to take her trainers off too. Next thing I knew, she was riding up and down the street with a grin on her face. I never did the "hold on to the back of the bike and some times let go..." thing. But I had emotionally hands on the back of that bike. I bit my tongue and the inside of my cheek as I watched them round the curves and almost wipe out. I cried the first time one of them scraped up their knee. But I learned to let go. They learned to be confident and try things.
Today was another opportunity for me to let go. The funny thing is that I did not plan it. Maybe that is the best way. On Thursdays, I work until 7pm. Princess babysits Peanut from 5:30 until 7:30. She is learning to cook so she also makes her brothers dinner. Sometimes.
I got home tonight and there was not a kid to be found. I did start to panic a little but then I saw that Princess wrote a note:
"Went to sience fair at boys school from 6pm to 8pm We rode bikes. "
The spelling made me laugh.
Then I looked around the kitchen and saw the remnants of dinner. And I saw the cell phone plugged in. I put the pieces together and knew that she had tried to call me while I was in a meeting but had not left me a message. We will work on that. But she left me a note. She told me where they were and when they would be back. She made dinner and they were all together.
I fought the urge to drive over to the school and chew them out. Obviously this was something they felt was important. I needed to let go.
And they all came back. They were happy. They were safe.
I did feel a bit like a chump when I realized that this was THE Science and Arts Fair...and I should have gone. I just did not know. And selfishly, I was enjoying the peace and quiet.
For next time, I do want her to leave me a message on my voicemail and we need to make sure that cell phone is charged AND turned on.
It took everything I had within me to sit in my chair and cheer, "Good job, BB! Way to go! Look at you!!"
I know that if I had told him he could get hurt and then demanded he get down, he would have done one of two things: climbed back down, pouting and feeling embarrassed perhaps he would be more cautious and fearful the next time or he could have continued on as he was with more determination and next time upping the ante, doing more and more outrageous stunts just to prove me wrong.
I had to let go. I had to let him try. He finished climbing across the top of the monkey bars that day. He did it many more times that summer. He never fell. He never did fall or even so much as break open a blister. And the grin on his face told me he was proud of his accomplishment.
It's happened at other times too and with the other kids. They each learned how to ride a bike. I left the training wheels on until I saw confidence growing and the the training wheels were not actually touching the ground any longer and then I took them off. BB hopped on his bike, wobbled for a bit and the took off like a rocket. He fell often, usually when trying to stop and would comment, "Wow! I'm biking but I think I need to work some more on my landing!"
Princess could not be left behind, so she saw BB riding and she asked me to take her trainers off too. Next thing I knew, she was riding up and down the street with a grin on her face. I never did the "hold on to the back of the bike and some times let go..." thing. But I had emotionally hands on the back of that bike. I bit my tongue and the inside of my cheek as I watched them round the curves and almost wipe out. I cried the first time one of them scraped up their knee. But I learned to let go. They learned to be confident and try things.
Today was another opportunity for me to let go. The funny thing is that I did not plan it. Maybe that is the best way. On Thursdays, I work until 7pm. Princess babysits Peanut from 5:30 until 7:30. She is learning to cook so she also makes her brothers dinner. Sometimes.
I got home tonight and there was not a kid to be found. I did start to panic a little but then I saw that Princess wrote a note:
"Went to sience fair at boys school from 6pm to 8pm We rode bikes. "
The spelling made me laugh.
Then I looked around the kitchen and saw the remnants of dinner. And I saw the cell phone plugged in. I put the pieces together and knew that she had tried to call me while I was in a meeting but had not left me a message. We will work on that. But she left me a note. She told me where they were and when they would be back. She made dinner and they were all together.
I fought the urge to drive over to the school and chew them out. Obviously this was something they felt was important. I needed to let go.
And they all came back. They were happy. They were safe.
I did feel a bit like a chump when I realized that this was THE Science and Arts Fair...and I should have gone. I just did not know. And selfishly, I was enjoying the peace and quiet.
For next time, I do want her to leave me a message on my voicemail and we need to make sure that cell phone is charged AND turned on.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
A difference between boys and girls...
I should have known. Boys are very different from girls. I don't buy into the whole "Nature vs. Nurture" debate. My boys came out of the womb acting like boys and my daughter came out acting very much like a girl, with the exception of her love for matchbox cars but note that she would line them up in long lines while wearing her prettiest, girliest dress.
I think I mentioned before that my friend gave me the idea of using a notebook as a way to keep the communication channels open between my Tween daughter and I. She and I bot love it. We have a secret way of letting each other know that we have written each other a note. She gets the chance to express some of her hurts and pains and I get to peer into her heart and try to understand what life feels like for her right now and then encourage her.
My 10 year old is struggling with the area of communication as well. He does not always do well handling feelings. He has made great improvement and I have been making a point of telling him the things I am seeing. But I thought perhaps this secret notebook would be a good idea for him too. He was very receptive to the idea. So, I showed him the notebook I bought and asked him to give me an idea about where we could put it so that we would both know how to find it.
He did say, and I was astounded that he came up with this,"Well, I don't know what would be a good place because I am not so good at remembering where I put things." This is very insightful for him. This is one of his struggles. I think having a spot for him to go to for this notebook will be beneficial in developing this skill. A bonus! However, he did locate a good spot that is visible yet not a place that others in the house will necessarily thing to dig around in.
He took the notebook and immediately wrote me a note. I really had to giggle. I will not make it a habit of sharing what he writes because that will violate the rule about privacy but he did not write anything deeply personal. Instead, he wrote a commercial plug that went something like this:
Dear Mom,
I need to renew the Lego magazine. This is the last issue. I really love this magazine. But you know that what I really want is the Lego Brickmaster magazine. You know the one that also sends out special lego kits. I got one for my birthday and it was great.
Love,
BB
Dear BB,
I know you love that magazine and have read it cover to cover several times each time you get an issue in the mail. We can certainly renew it. How much does the Brickmaster cost?
Love,
Mom
Dear Mom,
Don't you think that it would be well worth $39.95 for a year's worth of not only the magazine but also the lego kits. This is a special price and a value of over $70!!!! I would really love this. Would you help me get this?
Love,
BB
I laughed so hard when I read this. He is so funny. It is making me think that there is perhaps some room to negotiate here and figure out a way to work with him so that he can earn this.
The difference between boys and girls...no talk about feelings or how the day went or what frustrated him or any lines like his sister writes "Why is growing up so hard?"...but a sale's pitch!
I think I mentioned before that my friend gave me the idea of using a notebook as a way to keep the communication channels open between my Tween daughter and I. She and I bot love it. We have a secret way of letting each other know that we have written each other a note. She gets the chance to express some of her hurts and pains and I get to peer into her heart and try to understand what life feels like for her right now and then encourage her.
My 10 year old is struggling with the area of communication as well. He does not always do well handling feelings. He has made great improvement and I have been making a point of telling him the things I am seeing. But I thought perhaps this secret notebook would be a good idea for him too. He was very receptive to the idea. So, I showed him the notebook I bought and asked him to give me an idea about where we could put it so that we would both know how to find it.
He did say, and I was astounded that he came up with this,"Well, I don't know what would be a good place because I am not so good at remembering where I put things." This is very insightful for him. This is one of his struggles. I think having a spot for him to go to for this notebook will be beneficial in developing this skill. A bonus! However, he did locate a good spot that is visible yet not a place that others in the house will necessarily thing to dig around in.
He took the notebook and immediately wrote me a note. I really had to giggle. I will not make it a habit of sharing what he writes because that will violate the rule about privacy but he did not write anything deeply personal. Instead, he wrote a commercial plug that went something like this:
Dear Mom,
I need to renew the Lego magazine. This is the last issue. I really love this magazine. But you know that what I really want is the Lego Brickmaster magazine. You know the one that also sends out special lego kits. I got one for my birthday and it was great.
Love,
BB
Dear BB,
I know you love that magazine and have read it cover to cover several times each time you get an issue in the mail. We can certainly renew it. How much does the Brickmaster cost?
Love,
Mom
Dear Mom,
Don't you think that it would be well worth $39.95 for a year's worth of not only the magazine but also the lego kits. This is a special price and a value of over $70!!!! I would really love this. Would you help me get this?
Love,
BB
I laughed so hard when I read this. He is so funny. It is making me think that there is perhaps some room to negotiate here and figure out a way to work with him so that he can earn this.
The difference between boys and girls...no talk about feelings or how the day went or what frustrated him or any lines like his sister writes "Why is growing up so hard?"...but a sale's pitch!
Friday, May 1, 2009
Speaking only for myself
I can't speak for "all" single parents...just me. But today, I feel extremely taken for granted. It could be that I am stressed and things are piling up on top of me and more things are just "getting to me" and irritating me. And perhaps I am expecting too much from my children. It would be nice for them to "Rise up and call me blessed" now and then and even say "Thanks for making my lunch every day. You do a really great job." As opposed to the typical, "How come I don't get ....(Insert junk food items)like so and so?"
Sometimes it would be really nice to have someone, a grown up someone, around to help pick up the slack a little. This sounds really whiny. I just feel tired and worn out from doing the same thing, day after day... same battles, same arguments, same lectures and very little change.
In fact, this morning, I lost it. I went downstairs to find that 3 of my children were sleeping in the livingroom and that made me mad because I had told two of them who know they are supposed to sleep upstairs that they are not to sneak downstairs. The living room, at night, is essentially BB's bedroom. Then as I am scrambling to get Princess's lunch together, she says from the chair, "Mom, what time is it?"
Excuse me?!? Get up and look at the clock...I'm busy making your lunch. And while you are at it, grab the cheese and make your sandwich.
"But where are the bags?"
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
This is the same daughter who is getting cooking lessons from my friend April and is learning how to use knives to chop onions, how to make a tasty white sauce and how to cook rice and she can't find the lunch bags?
The kitchen is a mess. The living room is a mess. Someone ate my yogurt again, after I tied it up in a plastic bag, put it in a box, tucked it in the back of the fridge behind the potatos. And suddenly "Nobody" knows who ate it. BB, who has a tendency to speak without thinking says to me, "Well, if you would have given us breakfast, then we would not have to eat the yogurt."
What?!? Tell me you did NOT just say that to me? I pay Jenny to watch you in the morning and give you breakfast. What you have done by eating the yogurt is eaten MY breakfast and I bought enough to last until next payday and now there is not enough. If you do not eat breakfast, how is that my fault?
Then he denied he said it. The fire is stoking and starting to blaze. I'm not proud of this. But I got really mad. And then BB covers his head with a blanket.
Look at me when I am talking to you.
"I've already heard this before."
Apparently, you have not heard it enough because you still don't do what I ask you to do and keep doing what I tell you not to do. So, listen again. And when you talk to me like that, so rudely, I get so frustrated I would like to throw a pillow at you.
He looked up at me and blinked in disbelief.
I did not say I would. I only said that is what I feel like doing. There is a difference. But that is how angry and hurt I am right now by your attitude and behavior.
I then went upstairs to take a shower and I cried through the whole thing. I'm just tired. My life is hard. Some days, it just gets to me. Today was one of those days. And I feel very alone in moments like this. I try to be angry with my ex-husband and make it all his fault for putting me in this position. But the reality is that even when I was married, I was alone. I was still essentially carrying the burden of parenting by myself. I just sometimes had another adult in the room. It is not fair. It stinks. But that is the way it is. I think it is OK to acknowledge those feelings now and then...to look at them, recognize that they are there and then put them away again knowing it does not change anything. But the feelings are real. The hurt is real. Injustice is real. So, I visit that spot sometimes but I don't unroll my sleeping bag and sleep there.
That is the day I am having. I'm looking at the unfairness in my life. I admit it stinks. I wish it was different. I pray that it will be someday. And I feel sad, grieve a little and then pack my things and get out of there.
Sometimes it would be really nice to have someone, a grown up someone, around to help pick up the slack a little. This sounds really whiny. I just feel tired and worn out from doing the same thing, day after day... same battles, same arguments, same lectures and very little change.
In fact, this morning, I lost it. I went downstairs to find that 3 of my children were sleeping in the livingroom and that made me mad because I had told two of them who know they are supposed to sleep upstairs that they are not to sneak downstairs. The living room, at night, is essentially BB's bedroom. Then as I am scrambling to get Princess's lunch together, she says from the chair, "Mom, what time is it?"
Excuse me?!? Get up and look at the clock...I'm busy making your lunch. And while you are at it, grab the cheese and make your sandwich.
"But where are the bags?"
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
This is the same daughter who is getting cooking lessons from my friend April and is learning how to use knives to chop onions, how to make a tasty white sauce and how to cook rice and she can't find the lunch bags?
The kitchen is a mess. The living room is a mess. Someone ate my yogurt again, after I tied it up in a plastic bag, put it in a box, tucked it in the back of the fridge behind the potatos. And suddenly "Nobody" knows who ate it. BB, who has a tendency to speak without thinking says to me, "Well, if you would have given us breakfast, then we would not have to eat the yogurt."
What?!? Tell me you did NOT just say that to me? I pay Jenny to watch you in the morning and give you breakfast. What you have done by eating the yogurt is eaten MY breakfast and I bought enough to last until next payday and now there is not enough. If you do not eat breakfast, how is that my fault?
Then he denied he said it. The fire is stoking and starting to blaze. I'm not proud of this. But I got really mad. And then BB covers his head with a blanket.
Look at me when I am talking to you.
"I've already heard this before."
Apparently, you have not heard it enough because you still don't do what I ask you to do and keep doing what I tell you not to do. So, listen again. And when you talk to me like that, so rudely, I get so frustrated I would like to throw a pillow at you.
He looked up at me and blinked in disbelief.
I did not say I would. I only said that is what I feel like doing. There is a difference. But that is how angry and hurt I am right now by your attitude and behavior.
I then went upstairs to take a shower and I cried through the whole thing. I'm just tired. My life is hard. Some days, it just gets to me. Today was one of those days. And I feel very alone in moments like this. I try to be angry with my ex-husband and make it all his fault for putting me in this position. But the reality is that even when I was married, I was alone. I was still essentially carrying the burden of parenting by myself. I just sometimes had another adult in the room. It is not fair. It stinks. But that is the way it is. I think it is OK to acknowledge those feelings now and then...to look at them, recognize that they are there and then put them away again knowing it does not change anything. But the feelings are real. The hurt is real. Injustice is real. So, I visit that spot sometimes but I don't unroll my sleeping bag and sleep there.
That is the day I am having. I'm looking at the unfairness in my life. I admit it stinks. I wish it was different. I pray that it will be someday. And I feel sad, grieve a little and then pack my things and get out of there.
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