If I'm Only 29 That Means I Birthed Her When I Was 16

Of course, that's not unheard of...having a baby at 16. Thankfully, that is not the case with me. If I had birthed a baby at 16 I'm fairly certain I would have been a much worse parent than I already am. Miss M, I am sure, thinks that I am a terrible mother. I am "mean" and "embarrassing" and "annoying." These things I claim as my right as a mother. On the weekends, my husband likes to tell her he will "poke the grumpy bear" as she is particularly disagreeable in the morning hours. I don't blame her. Mornings are not my forte either.

All three of my kids have a strong sense of self. They recognize when people are jerks and generally steer clear of those kids. This often means that my kids will feel that their dad or I are being jerks and will then stand up to us. This defiance is different at different ages, of course. Ms. D is currently at the stage where she sasses back about everything and "I don't care" is the response to any threats of removal of privileges. K Man generally just shouts at me when he disagrees with what I say. There is a lot of shouting. Then he'll want to get hugs and kisses a few minutes later. Adolescence is a little schizophrenic.

Then there is Miss M. She's 13 going on 21 or something like that. She holes up in her bedroom 90 percent of the time, which is pretty much what I did in middle school. It kind of sucks, because I like having her around, but I get it. I was once 13, 16 or more years ago.

She brought home a high school information packet today. There are a lot more options for electives, etc, than when I was in high school. It was almost overwhelming. The cool thing about it was that she was so interested in almost everything offered. That was also the hard thing. How do you determine what you want to do in life at 13? I think we had a good discussion about the pros and cons of different electives. Then I wanted to curl up in a ball and deny the fact that my first baby is going to high school next year.

Just so you know: I can't possibly be old enough to have a kid in high school.

I'm not sure when I finally got over the amazement that I was a parent, but I remember feeling that I was participating in some form of charades for several years after M was born. I no longer feel like I am not "old enough" to have kids (nice that I can recognize truth after 10 plus years!) but that doesn't mean I don't screw up a lot.

I still want to put my kids in a freezer, yet I am looking forward to who they will become. In the meantime, I am cherishing snuggles from D and K, and poking my grumpy bear Miss M.

The Standoff

It's time to read. Go get your book.

It shouldn't be a big deal. It shouldn't, but it is. My boy dislikes doing homework. I know, pretty much all kids hate doing homework and most adults do too. He balks at the mere mention of future homework.

He's only in first grade. He has very little homework, truth be told.

I should have known he would resist homework. He resisted "have-tos" in preschool. He feels strongly that no one should tell him he has to do anything. (Honestly, I feel my feet digging in at similar things.) Last quarter, the homework battles got so bad that I met with his teachers to find out if there was something more going on. No, he's perfectly behaved for them. Works hard. Polite. No, he reserves these delightful battles for me. (and occasionally his dad)

This night? He's tired. Just his third day back at school after the Christmas break and after having a Cub Scout meeting the night before, he's beyond tired. He was unable to hold himself together at his scout meeting. It's hard for a young boy (especially such a spirited boy) to sit still and listen for so many hours in a day.

The simple command to get his book to read started it all.

First, he flat-out refused. We were forced to remove the "kids'" laptop computer (my old one) from his room, because it was a privilege to use it in his room but when you're irresponsible you lose privileges. The sight of the computer sent him in a deeper spiral.

He retreated to the corner of our dining room. He could still see me and hear both his dad and I. He was angry. Oh, the temper of that boy. (Quicker than his mother's but just as intense.)

His protests started about the injustice of having the computer removed from his room. He gave us his terms, mistakenly believing that he was in a position to negotiate. We calmly refused all demands and reminded him who makes the rules in the house. (Not the little boy.)

He escalated to informing us that he was leaving "in ten minutes!" and that we were going to be sorry when we saw that happen "in ten minutes." I was told I was to drive him to his Aunt and Uncle's house. I had to refuse.

You can have my chair, Mom.

What chair?

My new desk chair. You can have it when I'm gone.

Oh, that would make me too sad too see it. It would remind me of you.

That's why you can have it.

Oh, that would make me way too sad to see it and remember you left me because you didn't want to do your homework.

Oh.

Silence.

You can come and visit me at Jason and Kristi's house if you want to.

I'm afraid I don't make it over to their house very often. I guess I'd see you once or twice a year. Or I suppose you could stay here and I could see you every day.

More silence.

Would it be better if we walked to the chair together to read or would you like to walk by yourself?

He chose to crawl, like a dog, because he was wearing his Scooby Doo pajamas.

He climbed into my lap, read his two (6-page) books with very few problems and it was over.

The first homework standoff of 2011.

The Mall and Siblings and Lessons, Oh My!

This break from school has been less than ideal for my big kids. I've been sick for most of it (I think I got sick on the second day) and still have a lingering cold and cough. But yesterday I was determined to take the kids out someplace, anyplace to get us out and about like we usually are during their school breaks.

Miss M wanted to go to the Mall of America. I was reluctant to go, but after I made sure she understood there would be NO rides at Nickelodeon Universe and that SHE (and her brother) would need their own money to buy whatever they thought they needed there, I conceded.

My mom suggested that I ask my dad to come with us, so I did and he decided he could come along for the ride. I neglected to mention my plans of eating lunch at the American Girl Bistro. Whoops! Good thing he's a good sport.

Before we left, all three kids emptied their piggy banks and we stopped at the bank to use the change counter. M ended with $21, K had $23 and D had $65. I planned to buy D an American Girl Doll to put away for a few years until she is older, and her $65 would help pay for half of it.

We headed for AG first and purchased D's doll and M's puppy (Coconut...$20 for a little dog...what a rip off!) and headed for the Bistro. We'd never ate there before but I thought it would be fun for something different. At first K Man refused to eat there. He's a boy after all, so I don't really blame him. So I did what any (not-s0) nice mom would do and told him that he would have to go hungry then because this was where we were eating.

I asked the big kids if they wanted to "borrow" a friend to dine with. M has an AG doll, but we didn't think to bring her along. They have boy "Bitty Babies" now so I asked K if he wanted to dine with a boy "friend." At first he said no, then I just grabbed one and asked if he'd like to have lunch with that boy. He said no and picked a different one. We were on our way with our new friends and an extra seat for "Coconut" the new (expensive) addition to our family.

With the seating arranged and the meals ordered it became clear that the K Man was enjoying himself much more than he would ever admit. I think he wanted to take his new friend home with him. The waitress brought cups, plates and a tiny pitcher of pink lemonade for the dolls and the puppy. The kids had such a great time pouring lemonade for their friends (and drinking it) that they asked the waitress for 4 refills because their "friends" were so thirsty. (I was surprised that the food was as good as it was...but it is expensive.)

After lunch it was time to head to the Lego store for the K Man. Naturally, Lego Land is under construction and NOT in the usual spot so we had to walk an extra 4999 miles to the new (temporary) location. Here's a thought...note on the maps around the mall that Lego Land is temporarily relocated. Kthanxbai! I know it's not like I couldn't use the extra walking, however, it was rather irritating.

My son is, by nature, not a good decision-maker. Or rather, not a quick decision-maker. He considers all of his options in every possible combination. It can last for hours. It is frustrating to say the least. I am quite proud of my patience yesterday. Yes, yes I am. I am also proud that my son ended up with 4 new (though small) Lego sets for his $23. He chose carefully and wisely.

This trip had several purposes for our family. My kids have been fighting almost nonstop during this break from school. I know much of it has to do with the lack of activity. I haven't felt up to the fun and trips and activities I usually plan. I hoped to get them out of the house, having fun, using their own money to buy something so they could be proud of it, and realizing at least a little bit, how good we have it.

They were fighting in the van on the way home (the Bigs...the Toddler was sleeping for much of the ride) and I tuned it out for most of the ride home. Most of the time if I ignore the whines for Moooooooom to intervene and arbitrate every dispute they figure it out on their own. I did feel the need to deliver a mini-lecture (no more than 3 minutes) about how good we have it and how we should be so grateful for all we have, especially our family. Yes, I know it goes over their heads. They are self-involved. As they should be. They are small still. But. We ARE so lucky. So I won't let them get by without calling it up at least once in a while.

A New Role, or, Why Yes I AM Crazy

Today was the first meeting of Miss M's Brownie Girl Scout troop. It went fairly well. I know because I was there. As a co-leader. I even made a little game and showed the girls how to make a game for themselves. I rocked the game. Seriously. It is a cute game.

We talked about feelings and body language and how great it is that our bodies can move in so many cool ways. We're working on two "Try-its" (they were called badges when I was in Girl Scouts...maaaaaany moons ago.) at the same time, over two meetings.

It's sort of fun, but also very trying. I brought D with me, and she did well most of the time, but did get restless as is expected of a toddler. K Man was supposed to play with the other leader's son, but apparently they weren't playing together so much as K Man watched her son play. So. Not sure how that part of the deal is going to work.

The girls are enthusiastic and fun. I've known most of them since they were in Kindergarten. Most of them went on the overnight trip with us which let me get to know them even more. So this year will be a new adventure and I'll really get to know these girls. That can only be a good thing when the preteen and teen years are looming ahead along with all the drama that entails. (Not that there is any lack of drama already. Sigh.)

I can guarantee that if you'd asked me a few months ago if I would be a Brownie troop co-leader I'd have said Hell-to-the-no. But, I guess that's what being a mom does to you. You agree to things you never thought you would because you love that little person.

The Longest Road That is Really the Shortest

Eight years ago, I was hugely pregnant and trying to not take offense when people asked me if I was expecting twins two months before my due date. I was reading all I could about pregnancy and birth plans and commiserating online with other pregnant moms due at about the same time. I was emotional and excited and fearful and naive.

Yet no matter how well-prepared you may be, how many people tell you the reality, how many gory details you uncover...there is nothing that truly prepares you for the reality of parenthood. I'm not even talking about labor and delivery...I know very little about that anyway since 2 of my 3 were scheduled repeat c-sections and the first was a very early emergent c-section.

There is little I remember about those days leading to parenthood. Nearly 8 years into the journey it's hard to remember how it felt to be expecting the first. I do recall, in hindsight, that I had no idea what was going to happen to my life. I thought I knew. But I didn't.

Now I am well-versed at being a mom to an infant, a toddler, even preschoolers and early grade-schoolers. I have no idea what it's like to be a mom to a preteen, teen, even grown child. With any luck, I will learn parenthood to these growing children.

I've learned that it's not possible to parent each child the same or equally. Everyone needs different things at different times. The children don't understand this, and we often have hurt feelings and accusations, but the reality is that not everyone is going to need a new pair of shoes at the same time. Is it fair that one child outgrows shoes faster than the other and needs new ones more often? Probably not. My guess is that over the years, the injustices even out whether we realize it or not.

Now here I am, on the cusp of my youngest child (always to be the baby) turning two. Soon, she will no longer need to drink whole milk and I will forget that kids from 1 to 2 should drink whole milk if they are not still nursing. Almost 6 months since D weaned, I've already forgotten what it was like to "have" to nurse a child.

So begins the business of forgetting the baby and toddler stages. Within 3 years, the knowledge of parenting a preschooler will begin to fade. The grade school years are fun in different ways than the infant, toddler and preschool years. The kids are people. They have ideas. They can be hilarious.

They still reflect how you treat them. The best days are when I remember to talk to my kids how I want them to talk to me. It doesn't always happen of course, but I try.

One day I know I'll look at three adults and think they are more amazing than I even imagined they would be.

The Intruder

The first indication that we had an intruder came from Ms. D on Saturday morning. She gave a low moan then emptied her stomach standing in her crib. She didn’t cry, but she was scared, like any toddler who doesn’t have much experience with illness. My older two children cried hysterically whenever they vomited when they were her age. D seems to have a quiet acceptance of everything around her, whether pleasant or not. Even when she feels miserable she breaks into a smile.

I left D in the capable hands of her father, knowing that he would take loving care of her while M and I froze outside selling Girl Scout cookies. We had fun, we felt great (albeit frozen) and had no indication that the intruder had infiltrated our ranks further.

At about 2 a.m. the quiet of the night was broken when Miss M became the next victim of the infiltrator. By 2:30 it was evident that I too had fallen victim. K joined us by 5.

My husband, thankfully, stood strong against the enemy and watched the only intermittenly ill D while the rest of the family attempted to recuperate. It was obvious that K was not feeling well when he refused to leave his bedroom, took three naps unasked, and ceased talking. M was also quite obviously under the weather when she took two naps, one for which she voluntarily turned off the television.

M had holed up in the master bedroom with me but wanted to watch movies. I was reluctant to venture far from the bathroom as my stomach ailment was slightly different than the children’s (you’re welcome for sharing) so we asked Craig to bring a little TV/VCR combo up to the bedroom for us. He did much more than that and brought our big new flatscreen from the downstairs addition up to the bedroom. M happily (as happily as you can when you’re sick) watched cartoons and got to stay with me (which was what she really wanted) and I got to sleep even with the television in the room. Win-win…if there could be a situation like that in our circumstances. K joined us once and left in favor of his bedroom and sleep within 10 minutes but rejoined us later and stayed longer.

It was the beginning of the end. The intruder could be seen inching its fingers toward the white flag. And despite the sickness, it was a wonderful day because I had my family around me.

Fun With Birds and Protection Issues

Last week I took my kids on a spur of the moment trip to the National Eagle Center in Wabasha, Minnesota. The kids didn’t know where we were going, only that we were going somewhere that we could be inside since the air temps continued to dip below zero.

We arrived at the Center and almost immediately the kids started complaining and asking to go somewhere else. Here I thought this would be a cool thing for them to see FIVE EAGLES up close without any cages or glass between them, but noooooo, they wanted to do something. Okay, I can admit the birds didn’t do a lot but just stand there and look at us, (and what else would they do?) but I had hopes that it would get better.

We’d arrived shortly before a presentation would begin, at the end of which a handler would bring in an eagle, weigh her and feed her. The kids were not convinced this would be a good thing and I was skeptical that D would sit through what might be a 45-minute presentation, but we all perservered and I think M and K really were interested in the facts the volunteer was sharing with us.

We learned what eagles eat, we saw photos of the protective covering that eagles can cover their eyes with, we heard what had happened to the five eagles at the center and why they couldn’t be returned to the wild. We saw and touched reproductions of an eagle’s skull and eggs.

Then it was time for the handler to bring in the eagle.

Now, you’d think that the volunteers would be comfortable with the eagles, especially if they’d been volunteering for a number of years, nonetheless, when the handler entered the room with Harriette the eagle the volunteer gentleman let loose an unmistakable squeak that was anything but gentlemanly. Considering the other end of the front row was completely devoid of specatators, I would have considered the other end of the room a more fart-friendly zone, but to each his own. The handler heard the mishap as well and we exchanged glances and kudos to both of us for keeping a straight face. Perhaps the older gentleman’s gas is actually an eagle repellant and he was, in effect, protecting me and my children. Chivalry is not dead.

It was hard to top the demonstration of feeding the eagle but M and K stood next to the eagle so I could take a photo, then we looked at a few exhibits demonstrating how much (or how little) eagles weigh and how much force their talons can put on an object. D started to get tired and my fun meter was about full so we headed home.

Naturally, as soon as we got to the car and got everyone buckled in K announced he had to pee so we made it approximately 2 blocks before we had to stop at a gas station and get everyone back out of the car.

The rest of the ride home was blissfully uneventful. Thank goodness.

More Stuff They Don't Tell You About Motherhood

If you don't have kids yet and don't want the bubble burst, please read no further. These are some things that no one told me about motherhood.

1. You'll buy 26817 pairs of gloves and 673 hats and still won't be able to find what the kids need when the temps dip.
2. You'll want desperately to make the same type of scrapbook/ baby book for each of your kids as you did for your first born but never really have the time to do it. Take comfort in the fact you can do it when they're older. Compromise.
3. When your kids experience disappointment, you will feel it cut at your heart.
4. You will have to cut fingernails and toenails seemingly every other day.
5. It is breathtakingly wonderful to fill your child up with good feelings and good attitudes. When they smile reluctantly, trying to hide their pleasure? I think I love that the best. (The smile always wins and betrays the real feeling.)
6. Your kids will emit spectacular farts and you will be amazed that a little body can produce such force.
7. Your carpeting will be stained with vomit, juice, etc. and you'll remember the incidents that caused the stains.
8. It won't be a big deal.
9. You will probably have to clean poop off of carpeting more than once.
10. One day someone will point out the sacrifices you've made for your kids and you'll realize you didn't think they were sacrifices at all.

Trials of the Third

There is both luck and curse in being the third child born into a family. By the time the third child comes along, the parents are more relaxed. Those who were once helicopter parents find themselves uttering phrases like "where's the baby?" and "what are you doing?" from another room while the baby climbs the walls or pulls the cat's tail.

Things that once exasperated you, like the baby dumping a bowlful of crackers on the floor, now hardly register. When she tosses food from the high chair you barely bat an eye. Your home becomes a chorus of "uh oh!" and quick cleanup, rather than irritation. And you see these differences in parenting in that third child. When she makes the puddle of water by squeezing the nub of her sippy cup and sees your face, she goes to the kitchen, grabs a towel and mops up her mess. She takes pride in herself for doing a little something to fix what she may have messed up.

She has more people who love her than her siblings did at her age. Sometimes this is a curse to being the third kid. M and K both pick her up randomly, when she's minding her own business, and move her to another area of the room. She protests, vehemently, wordlessly, with grunts and screeches that leave little doubt that she's upset about the detour but she is too small to fight them off.

The curse of the third child also comes with a mother who perhaps is not ready to let her baby (and always baby) grow beyond her need for mommy. Ms. D will likely be stuck in a high chair longer than her siblings were. She'll also be in a crib longer if her mother has any say in it. Although D is a climber, she is still petite enough that she can't get her leg up to scale the crib walls. She will always be the baby of the family. She will always be behind her sister and brother. Her name will always be signed last in greeting cards.

But the thing I've learned most with each additional child (and there will be no more additions) is that life becomes more full. That could sound negative or positive. I think it's positive. The heart fills even as it expands. I would never doubt that a larger family has any less love for each and every one of their children. I have my three and they are perfect for me.

Condemned No More

My son's room has been a disaster area for weeks. We clean it periodically but it quickly descends into chaos within days. I don't know how one little boy can create such mess...except I remember a certain mother having a very messy room as a kid. And um, my crap is all over the house. I need to clean my own stuff too.

BUT! I started with K's room. Here are the before photos. Now that I look at these photos they do not accurately reflect the squalor that he was living in. It's sort of pissing me off that the photos don't show how truly disgusting his room was.

Anywho! I bought a Cubicle from Tarjay Boutique (on sale for $36 this week!) I love these shelves. I will likely need 1 or 3 more when our addition is finished for the kids' and Craig's and my bedrooms.

I spent about an hour putting the shelf together while Ms. D napped in the morning. I screwed up with the wrong piece at first (thanks for not labeling the pieces ClosetMaid) but after I realized my mistake the piece went together rather quickly.

I lugged the shelf up the stairs, then D and I ate lunch. D needed a nap and she started to fight it so I actually put her in her crib. (Even though I love to savor my babies.) She slept for two hours, during which I cleaned K's room:

Sigh. Like I said it doesn't look much different in the photos. BUT! It took me TWO HOURS to clean it. And I was sweating profusely. Also? During the clean out I discovered:

3 Target shopping bags full of garbage

12 empty boxes; mostly boxes toys came in from JULY birthday.

3 empty Target plastic bags. Purpose? Unknown.

6 pairs of dirty socks. Not in pairs. Oh no.

8 soiled-in-some-way sets of underwear. Some stashed in places that I wonder how long they have been there.

FYI--Having a boy is FUN!

Also? My son is totally just like his mother. ::ducking head:: Sorry KMan for passing on all the craptastic things that are me.

Anywho! 2 hours of cleaning nets the above. (and WHY does it not look that different?)

Adventures in Volunteering and Eating With the Little People

This week is Quarry Hill week at the big kids' school. Quarry Hill is the local nature center, built on the grounds of a former state hospital. There is an old limestone quarry, hiking paths, a pond, an old fireplace and a man-made sandstone cave.

The cave used to be open and as a kid I remember playing in and around the caves. Since then, two of the cave entrances have been closed off and the third entrance now has an iron gate blocking the door. The only way you can get into the cave these days is with an employee of Quarry Hill.

The cave is often the highlight of Quarry Hill week for the kids. I volunteered to chaperone M's kindergarten class one day and was disappointed that they were not going to the cave that day. I haven't been in the cave since I was a kid. Last year I didn't volunteer for Quarry Hill week at all.

This year I volunteered two days. The first day I went with M's 2nd grade class and the second day I volunteered with K's kindergarten class. By some sort of luck, I was able to go to the cave with BOTH classes.

The second graders were excited as we neared the cave and had to be reminded several times to quiet down. The kids had to pair up and share a flashlight that will be transferred to the other partner half-way through the cave tour. We looked at crickets and learned how to tell that a cricket is a female cricket. We noticed the cave was 60 degrees. I was relieved to learn that there are no bats in the cave in the summer time...they only use the cave in the winter.

Somewhere along the way I inherited another friend, another little girl claimed my other hand for the last half of our time at Quarry Hill. M on one side, A on the other.

When I went with K's class, the kindergartners were just as excited until one kid planted the seed that he was nervous about being in the cave. Then suddenly the whole class was filled with worry. The only thing that brought them out of their funk? The mention of a secret passage. Ooooo. It really is just a hole in the wall of one of the cave's rooms, but the kids thought it sounded exciting. Then we all walked through it and a few of them felt cheated and wondered where the secret passageway was.

I gained another little friend in K's class as well. I must look friendly or something. Boy, do those kids have me all wrong. I guess M and K haven't told them about my mommy fits.

I ate lunch at school with each of them on the days that I volunteered. Surprisingly, I had to open more things for the second graders than I did for the kindergartners, but the second graders all have known me for going on three years now so maybe they just felt more comfortable. Both lunch sessions included a few questions about the notes that I write and put in the kids' lunch boxes almost every day. One girl in M's grade looked at me and said "my mom only puts a note in my lunchbox on Valentine's Day." I felt a little sad for her and happy for Miss M. They do care and they are proud of those notes. Apparently the other kids are a little jealous.

Hey, it's a little thing, but at least I'm doing something right!

Party day

We're celebrating today. Miss M's 7th birthday (the 22nd) and the K Man's 5th birthday (the 29th). I think it is by design that I birthed these two children in July, so that when they are driving me completely insane with the fighting and the tattling and the whiiiiiining I am smacked in the face with celebrating these gifts I have been given.

Today will be chaotic and tiring and fun and over before I know it. Tonight, my two big kids will have 4836 new things that we currently have no room for anywhere in our home. They will be full of sugar and exhausted and sassing and deliriously happy.

I will think the party went okay, but be slightly bummed that something didn't go as planned (something no one else noticed or cared about). I will make mental notes for next year, if the kids consent to another shared party.

I will sit in my chair at the end of the day and marvel that my two July babies are another year older and wonder where the time went.

Crazy Nuts and Bolts

I'm nutso trying to finish things for the kids' birthday party tomorrow. I still have to clean up all the crap I have laying around. Believe me (and my husband will vouch for me) when I say I have crap laying around everywhere. You can't see our dining room table right now because there is so much crap piled on it. It's scrapbooking/card-making crap, but crap nonetheless.

The birthday photo video slide shows are coming along. I have M's pretty much done. I still have one or two more parts of K's to do...and if I have time, another part to add to M's. I had planned to get these done well in advance of their birthdays but you see how that worked out for me.

I did not get the thank you cards made either, so I will have to make them before I cajole the children into writing them. Thank you cards will not be as punctual this year.

My mom and I took the kids to IKEA and MOA for M's birthday on Wednesday, per M's request. Hey, if my daughter wants me to go to IKEA, how can I say no? I bought a dresser for M and D to share when they move into their new room (when the addition is finished) and a bunch of other junk. I refrained from buying some things I'd like to for when our addition/remodel is done, but it makes no sense to buy it now. They'll probably still have it later anyway. And if not? Guess we weren't supposed to have it.

We went to Underwater Adventures at MOA. M wanted to go and I had coupons for her and K to get in free so we went for it. It was fun looking at the fish. I enjoyed the aquarium more this time than almost any other time for some reason. Well, part of the reason may have been Ms. D's reaction. She screeched and pointed and tried to stand up in her stroller. None of my kids have been so excited at that age. She is something else that little monkey.

There was a virtual roller coaster ride at the end that Miss M wanted to do so just her and I went on it. (K was not interested.) M giggled the entire time in the "ride" and that pretty much made the day for me listening to her giggle.

We also were able to touch creatures like horseshoe crab, sea anemone, sea cucumber, star fish and crab. They used to have sharks at the end, but no more I guess. It was still cool to touch all these creatures, but I did like touching the sharks before.

So today I'll be decorating 2 cakes and 48 cupcakes. Send booze.

Goose Hunt 2009

Make video montages at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Watching Planes

We were turning down our home street after swimming lessons when I asked them.

Do you want to go watch the planes?

We live very near a not-so-busy, but busy enough, airport and in previous years we have tried to watch the planes. We’re often unsuccessful with our timing. We’ll see a small Cessna or two take off or land but no larger airlines.

The kids thought for a moment before answering my question then gave a resounding “yes!” I had to actually turn around since we were already headed for our house.

We took note of the black clouds looming in the distance, my kids not the big fan of thunderstorms as I am, but forged ahead with our plan.

We’ll just stay a little bit and leave before the storm comes. I told them.

The swimming lesson must have tired them into compliance because they were still game and still seemed to believe me. These times are less frequent these days.

As we approached the aircraft observation area, I noticed there were people there already. This is unusual. Every time we have ever gone to watch the planes we have been the only observers. Perhaps other people have better timing than I.

I parked the car and the kids begged to get out and go to the fence like the people here before us. I hadn’t planned on this scenario, but as the saying goes “the fewer the nos the better the day goes.” There was no real reason to deny the request other than my laziness, which wasn’t a good reason at all.

With their usual youthful, trusting, exuberance my older two children have engaged the two adults already at the fence (who have a small toddler with them) in conversation long before I have the baby out of her seat and have walked the 20 feet to the fence to join them.

The couple is sweet. They are visiting from Australia, waiting to see the plane carrying their friend and fellow Australian Kylie on a trip to Chicago. It’s a glimpse into other lives, a little like Reality TV, but without the dirt. Here I can imagine only great friends and good times. Suddenly we have a stake in the takeoff of this plane waiting at the gate nearby.

When we arrive, the air is still. Moments later, the wind picks up, sudden and strong. The baby kicks and laughs at the novelty. Sand and pebbles kiss our legs. K’s hair, wet from swimming, is dry in minutes. M’s bangs, dry as well, whip wildly in the wind.

Wow! I say to our new friends, that came up suddenly!

They nod and smile their agreement, not because they are shy, but because it is hard to hear anyway. Better to use signs rather than shout at one another.

The male of the couple goes to check when the plane is going to leave. It’s scheduled for 3:50, but the impending storm has prompted airline officials to try to expedite the take-off. It’s 3:30 by my phone’s clock.

We see a Cessna take off. We see a small commuter land. As the pilot throws on the reverse thrusters I ask my kids why they think that happened. They don’t care, but I tell them anyway. I’ve learned as a parent that kids often learn even when you think they’re not listening.

The Baby continues to throw her head back, giggle and smile in the extreme wind. This is new to her, and she likes the feeling of wind in her hair.

The excitement builds as the airplane’s engine is fired. M and the woman decide to compete to see who will see the plane move first. M wins and she is giddy.

As the plane taxis out, I explain it will go down to the south end of the runway and take off nearly in front of us, heading North, into the wind. I am thankful the kids don’t ask why the plane needs to take off into the wind. I’m not up for a discussion of the properties of lift in air travel.

The man returns just as the plane reaches the end of the runway and his companion is grateful. Suddenly the plane is rolling again and a moment later is airborne. We all wave as the plane passes before us. Bye! We yell and wave. Bu-bye, even the Baby is waving happily in her adorable backwards sort-of waving at herself way.

The plane climbs and begins its eastward turn.

Bye Kylie! Have a great trip!

I tell the kids to keep watching as the plane will soon climb above the clouds and disappear, and soon it does just that. And so we seven are left in the wind, watching the sky that no longer holds anything but clouds. The thing that brought us together gone, we part ways to return to our own lives.

A Plain Paper Crane...or Two

One of the beautiful and yet heartbreaking things about having young children is that they think that Mom and Dad can do anything. The bubble about knowing everything, however has long been burst. My oldest 2 kids will ask me a question and when I don't say "I don't know" because sometimes I don't know, and actually give them an answer they usually contradict me and give their own answer. Or they'll say "No, Mrs. M said that (insert answer here) is why." To which I wonder why they asked me anyway since clearly I am stupid and know nothing. I honestly thought I had at least until M was 10 or 12 before I was tossed aside as an authority on anything.

Things have been different with regard to doing everything. Even Miss M at nearly 7 years old still believes, for the most part, that Mom and Dad can fix things, and we can make things. I'll admit the fix things ability belief causes more than a few toys to be destroyed around here, especially when K Man is involved. He's a tinkerer, like a male Tinkerbelle, he's interested in how things work and how he can make something new. It often results in destruction, innocent destruction because he's intent that he'll make something new. I blame my father. He's a fixer, a tinkerer. K Man has Boppa's blood for sure.

The belief that us parents can make things came back to bite, first me, then Craig in our respective behinds last week. K Man received what is actually his penultimate book from the Dolly Parton Imagination Library. I did not read the book, but Craig read the book to the kids. It obviously left quite an impression because both kids were still talking about it the next morning as we took M to school. They chattered about the bird, the paper crane named Menu. They discussed how I would make them paper cranes.

No, no, no. I do not know how to make a paper crane. I was determined to snuff out this pipe dream instantly. I do not know origami. There was no way in Hell that I would be able to fake that I did.

Oh there are directions in the book Mommy!

Of course there are! How kind of the author! She must hate parents!

The excuse of not knowing was no longer valid. I had directions. K talked me into making him a crane as soon as we arrived back home after dropping M off at school.

I chose a large 12 x 12 paper from my scrapping supply. K held the book. At first. I started confidently, then my confidence waned, then fizzled. The wordless photo instructions were not that intuitive. Or I'm an idiot. It could be either, or both. I continued to fold. I tried and tried again. I vowed Craig would be making the next paper crane for M.

By step 6 or 7 out of 20 K was no longer holding the book. He wandered away as I continued to slave. It had, by then, become a challenge. I could conquer this paper. I graduated from my university summa cum laude. Paper folding has nothing on me!

Oh Friends. I am not a paper artist apparently. I make cards, but that does not an origami artist make. But I endeavored to create this paper bird that my son was no longer interested in having, or seeing me create. But I am a Taurus, and stubborn to the end. I would make a paper crane.

And I did. I folded and folded and re-folded and eventually ended up with something that sort of resembled a crane. It was not quite right and not quite wrong. My son was thrilled. His faith that Mommy hangs the moon was intact.

After school, Miss M was peeved that I had not made her a crane too. Oh no, I said, Daddy wants to make one for you. See? I love my husband and I really think he should participate fully in these types of family activities. I didn't want him to miss out on the fun.

Craig arrived home and Miss M asked him to make her a crane 4287 times in about 20 minutes. After we ate supper, Craig sat down with the fresh piece of scrapbook paper to fold Miss M her crane.

He began with confidence. He folded and folded. Then the folding slowed. Miss M began watching contentedly, excitedly, but then she asked for release. It was painful. She wanted to avoid witnessing the fall of her idol.

Because I was laughing at Craig's pain, he needed to scratch his head a lot. Apparently he uses his middle finger to scratch his head.

I let all squirm for a while, then I took over. My second crane was nearly as painful to fold, and turned out only slightly better.

I still find it fantastic that my children think their parents can do so much right even as we do so much wrong. We continue to try to make our lives better, more full of love. And the evidence of our trials can be seen in an awkwardly folded paper crane.

A Very Merry New Year

We celebrated New Year's Eve with the kids as has become our tradition. We get out the party hats and the "happy new year" necklaces. We get out the wine glasses and the sparkling grape juice. We get out the horns and the paper poppers. We choose a random time and just start counting down to the new year at the Zebra household.

We ate our appetizers for supper, M played Dance Dance Revolution on the Wii, D tried to get into everything, K built yet another creation with his Legos.

Craig brought home another present for me:We got our pajamas on and played some Sonic on the Wii before M and K started fighting too much and we shuffled them off to bed. K, of course, stayed up another hour or longer busy in his bedroom tinkering with his building supplies.

Craig and I watched Dick Clark's Rockin' New Year's Eve and tinkered with the new laptop.

It was a low-key celebration, which is how I really like them to be these days.

Moments before the ball was to drop (recorded and played later here in central) Miss M woke up to use the bathroom. I ushered her downstairs and she sat on my lap to watch the ball begin its decent.

Look at all those people there celebrating! I told her. They are in New York City and they all went out to celebrate a new year arriving. M mumbled something in response but I think she was in awe of the sight. You just saw the new year arrive M! Her smile lit up the darkened room. The baby lay on the floor, slumbering and waiting to be transferred to her crib. Her brother lay sleeping finally upstairs in his bedroom.

The ball dropped and I received a new year's kiss from my husband and my first-born child. I can't think of a better way to start the year.

It's a Polly World

Yesterday afternoon Miss M asked me to play with her. I won't lie, playing Polly Pockets is quite excruciating.

I mostly sit and dig through the clothes and set up furniture while the dolls that have been designated "mine" all take naps or laze by the pool. M's dolls are climbing into the jet and flying cross-room from party to party, living the high life.

K, when he plays with us, makes his boy dolls (because M will only give him the boy dolls) feed the dog and change back and forth between their two outfits each. Eventually the boys get tired of the daily grind at home and join M's ladies in the jet-set life.

Mostly they don't notice that my dolls are lazy and don't talk much.

I love listening to the stories that M and K weave with those dolls. It's really through hearing these stories that I realize how sophisticated their play has become. Their world views have broadened so much and are shaped by every experience they have. Something that was insignificant to me is obviously observed and noted by my kids.

We passed a police car who had detained someone by the side of the road the other day. Yesterday, the kids inserted a police officer into their stories. I would not have remembered seeing the police officer had I not been listening to my children playing. I couldn't tell you what the police officer did in their story though.

Yes, I listen and enjoy my children's stories, but only half-way. Well, I enjoy them all the way, but I only listen half-way. Remember when I said how excruciating playing Pollys is?

I'm writing blog posts in my head, thinking about what I need to get done, and wondering what I did with the cables for the kids' digital cameras. I'm planning my Monday morning. I'm wishing I had chocolate chip cookies and that I didn't need to lose weight so I could eat those cookies. I'm feeling guilty that I'm not fully engaged with my children.

How do you get through playing these types of toys with your kids?

Spring Snow Day

Yesterday, in anticipation that we would be having a snow storm today, the kids and I went for a chilly walk after school. They wore old sweatpants and their rain boots. They splashed in puddles and got mud in their hair. They ran and laughed and splashed some more.

I waddled along behind them alternately feeling fine and feeling like I was going to give birth on the sidewalk. My body didn't think the somewhat longish walk was such a great idea and demanded to go back and sit in the La-Z-Boy for the next three days. My body is not as good at this pregnancy thing as it was 4 years ago.

But the kids had great fun and that was the point of it. They had so much fun that they required a bath before supper. That's a mark of a good time I think.

"They" cancelled school today due to the predicted snow storm, which was wonderful because we got to sleep in a little.

The kids got up and started playing together in K's room. I had these ideas of how I would entertain my kids today...thinking of craft projects, etc.

The kids played in K's room until 9 a.m. with one minor fight (which they resolved with no input from mom) when M stuck her head out and asked if she had school today. I told her no, she celebrated and went back to playing with K.

At 9:45 they emerged, asking for breakfast. Yes, they played all that time without even eating breakfast. I was able to have a conversation on the telephone with a friend while they were playing nicely. This allowed us to make plans to visit the local gymnastics gym to get some of their energy run out.

So, after a quick bowl of granola for each kid, we loaded into the 4-wheel-drive Durango and hit the snowy road. There was one car getting yanked out of the ditch, and it was a little slippery, but otherwise the short trip wasn't too bad. (Although Craig said on his way to work this morning he saw an ambulance in the ditch...don't see that every day.)

We had free passes for the gym from a birthday party we'd attended there so that was another plus. The kids ran around and played together with pretty much no incidents, and my friend and I chatted for the entire hour and a half.

Then the kids and I stopped at Target on the way home. We made our selections and purchased them. The kids were pretty well behaved.

We got home and cooked their Kid Cuisines (which they wanted and chose their own meals from the freezer section at Tar-jay...whatever, it made them happy). They both ate their meals.

There was no fighting.

Now, they're watching Cyberchase on PBS. M loves that show and she normally doesn't get to see it anymore since she's usually at school.

K will not nap today. He'll be tired and cranky tonight. This will probably cause fighting soon.

But for now, it's been a great day. And it's already 2 o'clock.

A little bit crazy

I'm a little crazy, (as if you didn't know that already if you read my blog) and decided to take my packages of recalled Mattel products to the post office this morning after I dropped Miss M off at school.

The line was about 10 deep, with a few people with 5 or more packages to mail. I warned K before we even got out of the car that we would have to stand in line for probably a long time and that I wanted him to be a good boy. I went on to clarify that, by "good boy" I meant standing next to Mommy, no running around, no screaming, no whining. Yes, I need to clarify that with him.

We stood at the end of the line and I could see a few people already rolling their eyes into the backs of their heads at the crazy lady who brought her kid to the post office. So I was already steeling myself to endure their hatred.

Then, something miraculous happened.

K actually stood by me. He kept his voice at a reasonable decibel level. He even chatted amiably with the older lady behind us.

Then, something even more miraculous happened.

"Your son is so well-behaved," commented one older lady..the kind of lady who is usually shooting daggers of death with her eyes at me because my kids are being brats in the store.

I couldn't help it. Tears sprang to my eyes.

"Thank you!" I gushed at her. "I have not heard that very often about him. So thank you."

Then he spilled his Cheerios on the floor. But he picked them all up and threw them away.

Then we got to the window, mailed our packages, received a sticker from the man and started to head out.

That's when K decided he'd been good for long enough.

"No! I don't want this sticker! I want a sucker!" (Woe to the man at the post office who gave him a sucker last week!)

He threw himself on the floor.

Yep. I knew that well-behaved kid thing wouldn't last.