Today is our fifth wedding anniversary. Just five years ago at this time we were on the dance floor dancing the night away at our mountain wedding. I can tell you that had you asked me at that very moment what our life would be like in five years I would not have said, "two kids, two cats, a dog, Rob in a new position at work, me working part-time in a new position, sleepless nights with 5:30 wake-up calls, and the new definition of "going out" being a quarterly restaurant date. But we are loving every minute of it. We weren't able to celebrate today. Rob had to work. Cady had music class after Rob got home from work. After music class Rob had boot camp and then it was 7:30. So, we had a nice dinner together and some donuts for dessert since Cady was absolutely insistent that we have something sweet for our special occasion.
I know I don't have to tell you all what a sweet and thoughtful daughter we have. But even knowing it, she still blows me away sometimes. At 6 this morning Rob and I were sitting in the living room in a morning stupor not having yet registered that it was our Anniversary. But then out comes Cady with a present for us. She constructed a hand-made gift and wrapped it all by herself. Sadly I wasn't awake enough to think to take a picture of her wonderful wrapping job. I'll start with the wrapping. She wrapped it with some wrapping paper that she found in the gift wrap closet and one of her glue sticks.I'd never have thought that a glue stick would work but nothing like being schooled by a four year old. On the top of the gift were two "ear sticks" aka Qtips. She informed us that they were robot ears. Rob opened the wrapper to find a shoe box. He started to open it but she told him not to because what he was holding in his hands was a maraca. "shake it daddy!" Rob proceeded to shake it and sure enough you could hear something rattling inside. She then said he could open it to see what made the sound. "Smell it daddy!" It was some old potpourri that I had dumped in the bathroom trash can over a month ago. I've noticed that my trash often becomes Cady's treasures but I realize that it's likely that I really haven't even scratched the surface on all of her hiding places since in one months time I hadn't run into this potpourri during a routine room cleaning. After we had admired the gift Cady told us that it was actually from her and Coben since Coben kept trying to help. (I did notice that there was a huge roucous
So, at 6:00 this morning as our day was already off to a wild start we were reminded of our biggest blessings. Not only do we have each other but two little ones that
Monday, January 5, 2026
Monday, March 12, 2012
He said what?
I was getting ready for work the other day when Coben started grilling me on my mascara. Does it make my eyes feel good. Do I like it? How come he can't have any? And then it evolved into this....
Coben: Mommy, did I used to be in your tummy?
Me: Yes, yes you did.
Coben: Did you talk to me all of the time?
Me: Yes, I talked to you a lot.
Coben: (thinking) And then I had to come out so I could play with your hair
I thought that those of you that know about Coben's total and complete obsession with my hair might get a chuckle out of this. I did!
Coben: Mommy, did I used to be in your tummy?
Me: Yes, yes you did.
Coben: Did you talk to me all of the time?
Me: Yes, I talked to you a lot.
Coben: (thinking) And then I had to come out so I could play with your hair
I thought that those of you that know about Coben's total and complete obsession with my hair might get a chuckle out of this. I did!
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Almost six and nearly three
It's about time to check in and write about some things that I don't want to forget but probabaly will if I don't write them down. We have two birthdays coming up and it's added to my awareness that time is flying fast. Both kids want to have their rooms decorated for their birthdays in lieu of presents. We are still about $10K away from fixing the foundation so that we can patch up the walls and make it a true make-over so we'll see what happens but how very cool that they each wants rooms that represent their growth. Coben is ready for a BIG big boy bed and Cady is ready to incorporate a desk to do her school-work and hopefully a space-saving bed.
Coben is still a toddler but not for long. I LOVE the toddler years and knowing that this is our last child and that this stage is wrapping up is kind of sad. I love that Coben spells his name, "C-O-B-E-N. That spells my name!" and wants everything under the sun spelled to him. Mostly fastfood restaurants. How do you spell McDonalds? How do you spell Taco Bell? How does Burger King spell? I love his chubby knees and thick thighs but I can see them lengthening and thinning out. When Coben smiles his whole face smiles. He wrinkles up his eyes and nose and flashes his big teeth. And when he gets excited all ten of his fingers wiggle around. He has no endurance for staying up late and rarely makes it through a movie. He even asks to be taken to bed when he's ready but says, "carry me like your baby" which means cradling him and I gladly oblige. He's very gentlemanly in that he ALWAYS puts the toilet seat down (although he forgot ONCE and I sat down without thinking. But he was present and informed me that my butt is too big to fall in anyhow). He says, "thanks for cooking this" when he likes dinner and when he's eaten all of his vegetables he says, "feel my muscles" and squinches up his fists how someone normally does when they want to make a muscle but then wants us to actually feel his fists (he thinks those are his muscles).
His birthday is in about three weeks and I know there is no going back or freezing time. The most important thing on his mind right now is a "Yo Gabba Gabba bed" (guess what? they don't make twin sheets!) and a Yo-Gabba-Gabba party.
When I was a kid I often had these crazy ideas. "Let's organize a community service group", "Let's listen to 45's and make-up weird skits". Some of the ideas weren't too safe. Once, in fifth grade, I found a chunk of wax on the way home from school. It seeemed like a good idea to make candles from the wax. I invited Sonya over and doled out instructions (based on idea only and NO scientific evidence that this would work). Let's melt the wax in a pan on my mom's stove. Let's cut up strings for wicks. Let's melt crayons in the wax. When it's done we'll pour it in an egg carton (lighting candles in an egg carton? Clearly I hadn't though that part thorugh either) and we'll put the strings in for wicks and we'll have candles. The white chunk of wax melted down nicely. I remember very well that we then added RED crayon and then suddenly as our faces are hovering over the pot the wax bubbles and explodes. Red wax splattered our faces and various places throughout the kitchen (I know this because my mom complained for MONTHS afterward as she was scraping newly found wax with a butter knife). I don't remember how Sonya fared but I clearly remember having splatter burn marks on my face as a result of this hair-brained scheme. I wish that had been a learning lesson for me but no. Not too long later I decided that a doll sauna would be a fantastic idea. We made a sauna out of a cardboard box and then heated rocks up on the stove in one of Sonya's mom's pans. (Warming up dry rocks in a pan does NOTHING good for pots by the way). The idea is that we would put the pan of hot rocks in the carboard house, throw the dolls in, and then wet the rocks with water to create steam. And again, another failed project unless you consider a ruined pot and melted dolls a success. The real success is that Sonya has remained my friend after all of these years.
So my point with these stories is that I am afraid I have inflicted this character trait onto Cady. I can tell when I walk into her room and see the art work that she has put together and the elaborate way that she has decorated that she has some big ideas in there. It's fun to watch but it's a little scary to think of her having the same trait of creativity+impulsivity and the potential for disaster. Maybe I should be teaching her about safety goggles and science while she is still young.
It's so much fun to see her growing up. She climbs up on counters to get her own cup. She rifles through the trash cans for art supplies. She uses cute words like "delightful" and "elegant" that cause me to have to suppress a smile when they pop up for the first time. I try not to think that in a couple of months she will already be a 1/3 of the way to grown-up.
School is clipping along well for her. She won an award for being an outstanding community member and learner. And her teacher always reports that she is doing great. Ocassionally I get to pop in and have lunch in the cafeteria (I think my taste-buds preferred the old school cafeteria food before they healthied it up) and sit with all of her friends who tell me stories and address me as, "Cady's mom". Her best school friend is second grade Sophia who plays with her every other day (she splits up time between Cady and her second grade friends) and Cady loves Sophia days. Cady started attending after-school enrichment classes so for three days a week she has Art (Mondays), Zumba (Wednesdays) and Creative Dance (Thursdays) and it buys me a little more time to pick Coben up and still get her on time since Alicja isn't able to do regular pick-ups anymore.
And finally, the evolution of the sibling relationship has been amazing to watch. They have always loved each other but 90% of the time I've questioned whether they like each other, even a little bit. It took a bedroom brawl that resulted in a bloody nose (Coben's) to turn the corner. I'm not sure why that particular event was the catalyst but there has been such a dramatic change and it happened so suddenly after the fight. Cady ASKS Coben to play with her. She INVITES him into her room. They play toys together, they wrestle, they play hide-and-go-seek and chase each other around the house. They even play board games together. Of course they fight. I never expected that they wouldn't fight but it feels like it's a "normal" level now and not the constant fight fest that was happening previously. Coben will talk to Cady and tell her stuff that he won't tell us. One day, now I can't remember what the particular incident was (which is why I blog) but I think that Coben had hurt himself. I asked him what had happened and he wouldn't tell me. The moment I left the room I hear Cady say, "what happened buddy? you can tell me" and he told her! Particularly heart-warming was what happened last week. It was a tiring week. I arrived home at 5:30 with both kids and had to get dinner going but Coben was getting into EVERYthing. So much so that I could not read more than a line of the recipe at a time without having to intervene. When I'd had enough I snapped at Coben, "Coben. Knock if off!! I am trying to cook and you are getting into everything STOP IT!" Cady says to Coben, "c'mon buddy let's find you something to do" and takes him into the living room to play. I was BLOWN away!!
And that is that. Like I said, if I don't write it down, I just won't remember. And I want to remember. There may come a time when the kids are teenagers that I NEED to remember a time when I liked them and a time when they liked us! And one day they might like to read these stories and how the stories will take on a whole new light once they have kids of their own. I just hope at some point, they read them and know how much we love them both.
Coben is still a toddler but not for long. I LOVE the toddler years and knowing that this is our last child and that this stage is wrapping up is kind of sad. I love that Coben spells his name, "C-O-B-E-N. That spells my name!" and wants everything under the sun spelled to him. Mostly fastfood restaurants. How do you spell McDonalds? How do you spell Taco Bell? How does Burger King spell? I love his chubby knees and thick thighs but I can see them lengthening and thinning out. When Coben smiles his whole face smiles. He wrinkles up his eyes and nose and flashes his big teeth. And when he gets excited all ten of his fingers wiggle around. He has no endurance for staying up late and rarely makes it through a movie. He even asks to be taken to bed when he's ready but says, "carry me like your baby" which means cradling him and I gladly oblige. He's very gentlemanly in that he ALWAYS puts the toilet seat down (although he forgot ONCE and I sat down without thinking. But he was present and informed me that my butt is too big to fall in anyhow). He says, "thanks for cooking this" when he likes dinner and when he's eaten all of his vegetables he says, "feel my muscles" and squinches up his fists how someone normally does when they want to make a muscle but then wants us to actually feel his fists (he thinks those are his muscles).
His birthday is in about three weeks and I know there is no going back or freezing time. The most important thing on his mind right now is a "Yo Gabba Gabba bed" (guess what? they don't make twin sheets!) and a Yo-Gabba-Gabba party.
When I was a kid I often had these crazy ideas. "Let's organize a community service group", "Let's listen to 45's and make-up weird skits". Some of the ideas weren't too safe. Once, in fifth grade, I found a chunk of wax on the way home from school. It seeemed like a good idea to make candles from the wax. I invited Sonya over and doled out instructions (based on idea only and NO scientific evidence that this would work). Let's melt the wax in a pan on my mom's stove. Let's cut up strings for wicks. Let's melt crayons in the wax. When it's done we'll pour it in an egg carton (lighting candles in an egg carton? Clearly I hadn't though that part thorugh either) and we'll put the strings in for wicks and we'll have candles. The white chunk of wax melted down nicely. I remember very well that we then added RED crayon and then suddenly as our faces are hovering over the pot the wax bubbles and explodes. Red wax splattered our faces and various places throughout the kitchen (I know this because my mom complained for MONTHS afterward as she was scraping newly found wax with a butter knife). I don't remember how Sonya fared but I clearly remember having splatter burn marks on my face as a result of this hair-brained scheme. I wish that had been a learning lesson for me but no. Not too long later I decided that a doll sauna would be a fantastic idea. We made a sauna out of a cardboard box and then heated rocks up on the stove in one of Sonya's mom's pans. (Warming up dry rocks in a pan does NOTHING good for pots by the way). The idea is that we would put the pan of hot rocks in the carboard house, throw the dolls in, and then wet the rocks with water to create steam. And again, another failed project unless you consider a ruined pot and melted dolls a success. The real success is that Sonya has remained my friend after all of these years.
So my point with these stories is that I am afraid I have inflicted this character trait onto Cady. I can tell when I walk into her room and see the art work that she has put together and the elaborate way that she has decorated that she has some big ideas in there. It's fun to watch but it's a little scary to think of her having the same trait of creativity+impulsivity and the potential for disaster. Maybe I should be teaching her about safety goggles and science while she is still young.
It's so much fun to see her growing up. She climbs up on counters to get her own cup. She rifles through the trash cans for art supplies. She uses cute words like "delightful" and "elegant" that cause me to have to suppress a smile when they pop up for the first time. I try not to think that in a couple of months she will already be a 1/3 of the way to grown-up.
School is clipping along well for her. She won an award for being an outstanding community member and learner. And her teacher always reports that she is doing great. Ocassionally I get to pop in and have lunch in the cafeteria (I think my taste-buds preferred the old school cafeteria food before they healthied it up) and sit with all of her friends who tell me stories and address me as, "Cady's mom". Her best school friend is second grade Sophia who plays with her every other day (she splits up time between Cady and her second grade friends) and Cady loves Sophia days. Cady started attending after-school enrichment classes so for three days a week she has Art (Mondays), Zumba (Wednesdays) and Creative Dance (Thursdays) and it buys me a little more time to pick Coben up and still get her on time since Alicja isn't able to do regular pick-ups anymore.
And finally, the evolution of the sibling relationship has been amazing to watch. They have always loved each other but 90% of the time I've questioned whether they like each other, even a little bit. It took a bedroom brawl that resulted in a bloody nose (Coben's) to turn the corner. I'm not sure why that particular event was the catalyst but there has been such a dramatic change and it happened so suddenly after the fight. Cady ASKS Coben to play with her. She INVITES him into her room. They play toys together, they wrestle, they play hide-and-go-seek and chase each other around the house. They even play board games together. Of course they fight. I never expected that they wouldn't fight but it feels like it's a "normal" level now and not the constant fight fest that was happening previously. Coben will talk to Cady and tell her stuff that he won't tell us. One day, now I can't remember what the particular incident was (which is why I blog) but I think that Coben had hurt himself. I asked him what had happened and he wouldn't tell me. The moment I left the room I hear Cady say, "what happened buddy? you can tell me" and he told her! Particularly heart-warming was what happened last week. It was a tiring week. I arrived home at 5:30 with both kids and had to get dinner going but Coben was getting into EVERYthing. So much so that I could not read more than a line of the recipe at a time without having to intervene. When I'd had enough I snapped at Coben, "Coben. Knock if off!! I am trying to cook and you are getting into everything STOP IT!" Cady says to Coben, "c'mon buddy let's find you something to do" and takes him into the living room to play. I was BLOWN away!!
And that is that. Like I said, if I don't write it down, I just won't remember. And I want to remember. There may come a time when the kids are teenagers that I NEED to remember a time when I liked them and a time when they liked us! And one day they might like to read these stories and how the stories will take on a whole new light once they have kids of their own. I just hope at some point, they read them and know how much we love them both.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
The Nutcracker
Finally, the day of the Nutracker has arrived. The moment that Cady woke up she put on the purple dress that her Aunt Sophie sent to her. Seven hours later we found ourselves front row center (discount tickets) with a few of our friends to watch the performance. It was the same show that we went to last year but an entirely different experience. Last year, Cady watched and didn't say a whole lot. This year Cady had a lot to say and it was fun to watch her try to figure it all out. "How do they get their dress to stick straight up in the air like that? Boy, you have to be strong to do that (as the sugar plum fairy is being lifted through the air), That man must be very embarraseed to be wearing a pink shirt. Is that ballerina from Japanese? Is she from Babesia? (Asia but almost LOL'd at this one as it seemed like a line straight out of a Bill and Ted movie) Is he from Africa? Why are the girl and the nutrcracker just sitting there watching?" and my favorite was when she would try to explain the show to me. "The nutracker came to life and it's because the brown man is magic" I was super proud of Cady for getting on stage this year. At the end of the show they invite all of the little girls (and boys but only like 2-3 in the whole audience) on stage for Q&A with the performers and then they teach them a dance routine. Last year I could tell that Cady wanted to so badly but she was too nervous to do it. This year she didn't hesitate and she shook her little tail-feathers up there. The problem with sitting in the first row is that all of the other camera-happy parents rushed down and crowded in front so I didn't even try to get a video but just enjoyed the moment instead. You'll have to take my word for it that she looked like a little fairy princess in her purple sparkly dress dancing up there.
Friday, November 25, 2011
The Second Time Around
Here's another lesson learned. The terrible twos are no easier the second time around. I can think of two reasons why. Reason #1 is because we are dealing with a completely different child. Reason #2, and probably the most important reason, is that we never mastered it the first time. We just got through it because as with any stage we realized if you wait long enough "this too shall pass".
You probably wonder what are these terrible twos that we are just now speaking of seeing as how Coben has been two for 10 months now. It's all coming back to us now. It wasn't the twos that were so bad for us, it was the threes. We have all kinds of names for the threes but this is a family blog so we won't go there. So, Coben is now approaching those %$&! threes and he has been in rare form. Dinner time has become the battle of the wills. Nothing is right. Everything that was okay before is suddenly not okay. And he isn't afraid to speak, I mean whiiiiiiiine, his mind about it. We have a rule, if you don't eat then you don't get anything else. So, we eventually throw in the towel and resign to the fact that he is not going to eat and we hold firm on the no dessert rule but nevertheless we not only get to endure the dinner time meltdown but the post dinner time I demand to have something else meltdown. Our mantra is "hold firm, consistency pays off" but what is really running through our heads is, "Come ON! For the love of sanity, KNOCK. IT. OFF!" But we do hold firm so this too shall pass, right?
We have been very lucky to have inherited hand-me-downs from a friend. Not only do we get hand-me-downs but hand-me-downs times twos since they have twins. Coben has a drawer-full of blue jeans. Maybe 15 pairs. He won't wear blue jeans. He will only wear sweat pants these days of which he has only a couple pairs. It's very hard to even think about buying more when there are FIFTEEN pairs of jeans sitting in the second drawer of his dresser growing cobwebs. So, he has to have his sweatpants and typically only his "O-dabba-dabba" (Yo Gabba Gabba) unders and lately this Christmas shirt that he started wearing frequently before Thanksgiving (two days in a row at one point, unwashed, GASP!).
One day he refused to wear any shirt at all. When a toddler gets into a certain mindset there's a series of events that follow. Let me break it down. It usually starts with a very routine thing like in this situation putting on a shirt to go to school. But for some reason (usually when you are running late) the toddler is vehemently against this part of the routine on this particular day for no apparent reason. Barring sleep deprivation or hunger, there is almost always some underlying reason for the toddler meltdown that you are not privvy to and that he is in no shape to share. You only know something is wrong because you start to put on the shirt and he backarches, turns to jello, refuses to stand-up and starts screaming and flailing. And this all happens in the course of one half of a second. So you are standing there completely dumbfounded holding the shirt and wondering WTF (Why the Face, right?) happened! So now you lodge into your parenting pattern that usually starts out strong and quickly weakens. So first it's the empathetic approach which includes validating those little feelings and playing guessing games "ohhhh, something is wrong. You don't like the shirt?" "You want a different shirt?" "Does the shirt bother you?" Almost always this is met by zero response and louder wails. At this point even if you DO guess right they won't give you the satisfaction because they are already too far gone to come back. Then come the negotations, "If you put the shirt on you can have a sticker for getting dressed" or "If you put your shirt on you won't have to have breakfast in the car" which are basically meaningless as there is still too much wailing, whining and body throwing going on so it evolves into empty threats, "If you don't put your shirt on you'll have to stay home by yourself because mom and dad have to go to work", or "if you don't put your shirt on you're going to freeze and catch a cold (I know, you don't catch a cold from the weather but you get desperate) and then if all else fails the wrestling match. And the wrestling match gets you NOWHERE because if you can manage to get the shirt around the neck and the arms in the sleeves they will pull it off immediately after you wrestle in on. So on this particular morning I'm walking out the door fifteen minutes late for work because of all the tag-teaming with Rob to try to get Coben dressed. Coben is standing at the door shirtless and crying and I tell Rob. "Just send him to school without a shirt!" And I meant it. I didn't care that it was cold and I didn't care if the school thought we sucked as parents. At that moment Rob and I were defeated. But finally there came a moment a little while after I left where the switch flipped, calm was restored and Coben was able to finally discuss the shirt issue (which turned out to be that he didn't like the shirt that Rob picked out and wanted the Christmas shirt).
And these patterns continue through bedtime. He wants footie jams. I try to talk him out of footie jams but there is no talking him out of footie jams. So we put on footie jams and I tuck him into bed. Then I go to sit down and try to relax and I'll hear "Moooooom!" the moment my butt hits the cushion. I already know. I know that I am being called back in to take off the footie jams because they are too hot. But we will do this every.single.night. There is no reasoning with Coben. "Coben, you always get too hot in the footie jams why don't we try one of these other pairs." "Noooooo. I want the dino footie jams!!" And I know. I know that I could stand firm and refuse to let him wear the footie jams but I also know deep down that if it's not the footie jams it WILL be something else. So in my head I think of the footie jams as the potential lesser of all evils.
So right now the little guy is in bed. He is laying on the bare plastic mattress because his sheets are being washed and I didn't get them in the dryer before bed because of laundry back-up. No other sheets would do. I pulled 3 different sheets out of the closet and each suggestion just seemed to provoke a bigger emotinal response. So I offered to put the "snuggie blanket"down on the mattress and fold it over him. OUT OF THE QUESTION. So there he lays. On a cold plastic mattress. Once his sheets are dry I will sneak in after he is asleep and make some adjustments. And I'll look at him and wonder how that sweet little boy could possibly rage so big. And I'll decide that it's just not possible. No matter how rough the day has been, watching a sleeping child is a lot like childbirth. You forget as soon as it is over.
You probably wonder what are these terrible twos that we are just now speaking of seeing as how Coben has been two for 10 months now. It's all coming back to us now. It wasn't the twos that were so bad for us, it was the threes. We have all kinds of names for the threes but this is a family blog so we won't go there. So, Coben is now approaching those %$&! threes and he has been in rare form. Dinner time has become the battle of the wills. Nothing is right. Everything that was okay before is suddenly not okay. And he isn't afraid to speak, I mean whiiiiiiiine, his mind about it. We have a rule, if you don't eat then you don't get anything else. So, we eventually throw in the towel and resign to the fact that he is not going to eat and we hold firm on the no dessert rule but nevertheless we not only get to endure the dinner time meltdown but the post dinner time I demand to have something else meltdown. Our mantra is "hold firm, consistency pays off" but what is really running through our heads is, "Come ON! For the love of sanity, KNOCK. IT. OFF!" But we do hold firm so this too shall pass, right?
We have been very lucky to have inherited hand-me-downs from a friend. Not only do we get hand-me-downs but hand-me-downs times twos since they have twins. Coben has a drawer-full of blue jeans. Maybe 15 pairs. He won't wear blue jeans. He will only wear sweat pants these days of which he has only a couple pairs. It's very hard to even think about buying more when there are FIFTEEN pairs of jeans sitting in the second drawer of his dresser growing cobwebs. So, he has to have his sweatpants and typically only his "O-dabba-dabba" (Yo Gabba Gabba) unders and lately this Christmas shirt that he started wearing frequently before Thanksgiving (two days in a row at one point, unwashed, GASP!).
One day he refused to wear any shirt at all. When a toddler gets into a certain mindset there's a series of events that follow. Let me break it down. It usually starts with a very routine thing like in this situation putting on a shirt to go to school. But for some reason (usually when you are running late) the toddler is vehemently against this part of the routine on this particular day for no apparent reason. Barring sleep deprivation or hunger, there is almost always some underlying reason for the toddler meltdown that you are not privvy to and that he is in no shape to share. You only know something is wrong because you start to put on the shirt and he backarches, turns to jello, refuses to stand-up and starts screaming and flailing. And this all happens in the course of one half of a second. So you are standing there completely dumbfounded holding the shirt and wondering WTF (Why the Face, right?) happened! So now you lodge into your parenting pattern that usually starts out strong and quickly weakens. So first it's the empathetic approach which includes validating those little feelings and playing guessing games "ohhhh, something is wrong. You don't like the shirt?" "You want a different shirt?" "Does the shirt bother you?" Almost always this is met by zero response and louder wails. At this point even if you DO guess right they won't give you the satisfaction because they are already too far gone to come back. Then come the negotations, "If you put the shirt on you can have a sticker for getting dressed" or "If you put your shirt on you won't have to have breakfast in the car" which are basically meaningless as there is still too much wailing, whining and body throwing going on so it evolves into empty threats, "If you don't put your shirt on you'll have to stay home by yourself because mom and dad have to go to work", or "if you don't put your shirt on you're going to freeze and catch a cold (I know, you don't catch a cold from the weather but you get desperate) and then if all else fails the wrestling match. And the wrestling match gets you NOWHERE because if you can manage to get the shirt around the neck and the arms in the sleeves they will pull it off immediately after you wrestle in on. So on this particular morning I'm walking out the door fifteen minutes late for work because of all the tag-teaming with Rob to try to get Coben dressed. Coben is standing at the door shirtless and crying and I tell Rob. "Just send him to school without a shirt!" And I meant it. I didn't care that it was cold and I didn't care if the school thought we sucked as parents. At that moment Rob and I were defeated. But finally there came a moment a little while after I left where the switch flipped, calm was restored and Coben was able to finally discuss the shirt issue (which turned out to be that he didn't like the shirt that Rob picked out and wanted the Christmas shirt).
And these patterns continue through bedtime. He wants footie jams. I try to talk him out of footie jams but there is no talking him out of footie jams. So we put on footie jams and I tuck him into bed. Then I go to sit down and try to relax and I'll hear "Moooooom!" the moment my butt hits the cushion. I already know. I know that I am being called back in to take off the footie jams because they are too hot. But we will do this every.single.night. There is no reasoning with Coben. "Coben, you always get too hot in the footie jams why don't we try one of these other pairs." "Noooooo. I want the dino footie jams!!" And I know. I know that I could stand firm and refuse to let him wear the footie jams but I also know deep down that if it's not the footie jams it WILL be something else. So in my head I think of the footie jams as the potential lesser of all evils.
So right now the little guy is in bed. He is laying on the bare plastic mattress because his sheets are being washed and I didn't get them in the dryer before bed because of laundry back-up. No other sheets would do. I pulled 3 different sheets out of the closet and each suggestion just seemed to provoke a bigger emotinal response. So I offered to put the "snuggie blanket"down on the mattress and fold it over him. OUT OF THE QUESTION. So there he lays. On a cold plastic mattress. Once his sheets are dry I will sneak in after he is asleep and make some adjustments. And I'll look at him and wonder how that sweet little boy could possibly rage so big. And I'll decide that it's just not possible. No matter how rough the day has been, watching a sleeping child is a lot like childbirth. You forget as soon as it is over.
Friday, November 18, 2011
It's coming!
It's heating up around the Keenan house. The Christmas frenzy has begun! Saturday morning cartoons are now plastered even more-so with toy commercials. "I want that!" "I want that!" I have a rule that they have to tell me what it is and what it does before they can put it on their list. It's hilarious to watch them (Cady) try to actually figure out in a hurry what it actually is and does before the commercial is over. Half the time she has no clue but she knows that she must have it. I can't help but smile to hear Coben ask Cady, "Cady . You buy me dat?" He doesn't get the concept of Santa yet but he does have two year old imaginary thinking that his sister's pockets are lined with gold and she's just waiting to spend it all on him.
So, what is Santa going to get this year? Costco special which is a giant wooden dollhouse. And for Coben it's a Black and Decker tool bench. Okay, maybe they're not the only ones already in the spirit since I just so happen to be blogging about it and it's not even Thanksgiving yet.
Speaking of. We are having Thanksgiving at the Shaw's again this year. I have no idea what we would do without them. Gretchen and I are going to cook together while the kids run wild and the honeys watch "the game". Sounds pretty near perfect to me.
So, what is Santa going to get this year? Costco special which is a giant wooden dollhouse. And for Coben it's a Black and Decker tool bench. Okay, maybe they're not the only ones already in the spirit since I just so happen to be blogging about it and it's not even Thanksgiving yet.
Speaking of. We are having Thanksgiving at the Shaw's again this year. I have no idea what we would do without them. Gretchen and I are going to cook together while the kids run wild and the honeys watch "the game". Sounds pretty near perfect to me.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
The Awakening
It's 2 a.m. and I am awakened by the sound of a door slowly creaking open and then being forcefully shut. I hear loud footsteps coming down the hallway, stomp, stomp, stomp, Stomp. The bedroom door flies open and I open my eyes to see all of three foot something standing in my doorway with the hallway light creating a sillhouette of wild hair and an armful of lovies. I groan and roll over. But still he appears by my bedside. "Coben, it's not morning. Come cuddle when the sun comes up." His response is to start throwing objects up on the bed one by one. This time it's Buddy, Long Dog and Swiper and three blankets. Some of us don't function well at 2 a.m. so I'm in awe that he can manage to not only locate all of these objects in the dark but to make the long toddle down the hallway without losing a single friend. I'm now buried with blankets and lovies but I can hear him pulling out the under the bed rollaway storage containers to create a step stool and then hoisting himself up onto the foot of the King Sized mattress and start making his way to the top. He throws a few elbows and snuggles in between his Dad and I. I start to protest but he wraps his arms around my neck and whispers, "Hi mom. I missed you. I love you". And I surrended to the bittersweet realization that these moments don't last forever. Within moments we are all asleep again.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Word
Picked up Cady from school and as she barely made it into the car before bursting out with the exciting news that today she had "Jimmy cracked corns" today. I didn't laugh. But I wanted to. She was referring to Candy Corns.
Coben told me that he is going to try Jicama one day at school and that he had gouda cheese the other day. He retains the craziest things but then announced he wanted wordels for dinner. What? Wordels. You want what? WORDELS!! Oh, noodles? Is that what you want? Yes, wordels. Coben, try saying N-n-n-noodles. N-n-n-Wordels! At least he tried.
Coben told me that he is going to try Jicama one day at school and that he had gouda cheese the other day. He retains the craziest things but then announced he wanted wordels for dinner. What? Wordels. You want what? WORDELS!! Oh, noodles? Is that what you want? Yes, wordels. Coben, try saying N-n-n-noodles. N-n-n-Wordels! At least he tried.
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Cady-isms
As promised here are the Cady-isms that I have been saving up over the summer.
Presented in quiz format:
What is the real word or term behind the Cady-made word/term?
Pixie Pins or Moxie Pins.
Jigglies
Woodjie
Pimples
Crunchy Lips
Crack the Light
Fur
House Air
Butt Cheek of Penis
Kick
Batter Spoon
Totaller Truck
And even Coben has one. But his is related to speech.
Oopers
He has this Brick-like (reference The Middle) way of adding S's to the end of words since he leaves them off of the beginning of words. So, we'll hear him saying, "I did a somersault in the grass-s-s-s" essentially turning one syllable words into three syllable words.
Okay. So how many did you get right???
Pixie Pins. Also called Moxie Pins. Bobby Pins
Jigglies The bottom of your pants if they jiggle. So jeans have jigglies but leggings do not.
Woodjie Wedgie
Pimples Nipples
Crunchy Lips Chapped Lips
Crack the Light Turn the light down
Fur Crayon Shavings
House Air Room Temperature
Butt Cheek of Penis Testicles (something we talk waaaay too much about IMO)
Kick Ken doll
Batter Spoon Spatula
Totaller Truck Tow Truck
Oopers Slippers
Presented in quiz format:
What is the real word or term behind the Cady-made word/term?
Pixie Pins or Moxie Pins.
Jigglies
Woodjie
Pimples
Crunchy Lips
Crack the Light
Fur
House Air
Butt Cheek of Penis
Kick
Batter Spoon
Totaller Truck
And even Coben has one. But his is related to speech.
Oopers
He has this Brick-like (reference The Middle) way of adding S's to the end of words since he leaves them off of the beginning of words. So, we'll hear him saying, "I did a somersault in the grass-s-s-s" essentially turning one syllable words into three syllable words.
Okay. So how many did you get right???
Pixie Pins. Also called Moxie Pins. Bobby Pins
Jigglies The bottom of your pants if they jiggle. So jeans have jigglies but leggings do not.
Woodjie Wedgie
Pimples Nipples
Crunchy Lips Chapped Lips
Crack the Light Turn the light down
Fur Crayon Shavings
House Air Room Temperature
Butt Cheek of Penis Testicles (something we talk waaaay too much about IMO)
Kick Ken doll
Batter Spoon Spatula
Totaller Truck Tow Truck
Oopers Slippers
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
And there went the summer
It's really hard to write a blog when you realize that so much time has passed. I thought about it all summer and yet I had nothing to give. It's not that the kids weren't there typical cute selves, it's just that the more time that passed the more pressure I felt. And the more pressure that I felt (self-imposed) the more it felt like work.
I've been keeping little Cady-isms on the fridge at home this whole time. I'll be sure to post those. Not today though. For now I felt like I needed to strike while the iron was lukewarm.
To pick up from May. Cady graduated from preschool. Coben was glad to be done with childcare. Even if it was only two days a week it was not his favorite place.
The summer. It whizzed by. This was not helped by my persistent anxiety about going back to work and having NOTHING in place from child care to Cady's school and the kids fought like crazy. As you all know we managed to slip in a surprise trip to Disneyland. Lesson learned, do NOT try to surprise a child who is overtired and gravitates toward the predictable. Nevertheless it was a magical trip. We were on the go pretty much from sun-up until well after sundown the entire trip. We visited the beach with the big waves. Cady was a huge fan and Coben not so much. I suppose when the waves are about four times your size it takes on a different feel.
I won't go into the school fiasco in it's entirety but sit back because even if I fast-forward to August it's long. School "choice" has no meaning when your choices have way more demand than the school can meet. At the end of July we got a call from our neighborhood school (where Cady attended 3 yr old preschool) and they had a full-time spot for her with Ms. X(Ms. WHO? I had requested the other teacher who I know is phenomenal but was told they couldn't accommodate requests). So I did what any reasonable parent would do who is faced with having to make a quick decision without getting to meet the teacher. I pulled up her facebook profile. And I don't know, she didn't look like a Kindergarten teacher but what can you really tell by a picture. So I made an appointment with the principal and went in and spoke to her. I explained what Cady's needs were and when I pressed the principal on what the assigned teacher was like her response was, "she did a nice job for us last year". NICE???? How about, "she's great! you'll love her!" or "she's very good at what she does." When pressed further she elaborated, "I think that things will be better for her this year. She had some rough kids last year and came on mid-year?" So I ask, "came on mid-year?" and I'm told that the other teacher resigned suddenly. Okay. STRIKE.
So, I ask about art. Art REALLY engages Cady. She gets absorbed in it and is able to tune everything out around her. I was told they don't have an art teacher and haven't had one. BUT, last year they were able to get a volunteer for six weeks. Six whole weeks huh? So I walked home feeling that it just wasn't a good fit. And I was having a hard time with it because I have always had a "rah rah neighborhood school" mentality. And I'm the first one to say that your neighborhood school is what you make of it. Get involved. Yadda yadda. That day I had a complete and total shift in my thinking. And so we accepted at Kunsmiller. On a side note, a friend of mine has her child in Kindergarten at our neighborhood school and says, "That Ms. X scares me. She's the type that takes the fun out of learning. If my child had gotten her as a teacher I think he would probably need psychotherapy." Score one for facebook!
So here we go. I go to register for Kunsmiller and instantly love Cady's teacher. She's young and energetic and has a great philosophy. She's a great communicator and has her bachelor's in music and her master's in early childhood. Great combo. Kunsmiller offers arts classes every day. Cady will have visual art, dance, theater and dance throughout the year in addition to the regular pull-outs like library, PE and technology. And it's a K-12 so she could potentially stay there. So, day one was a huge success. Ms Shaeffer is a big hugger and had colored playdough and Cady bonded with her almost immediately. But that very same day we get a call from the school up the road that was our first choice. It has a fantastic educational philosophy and has been going strong for 30 years. It was an agonizing decision but we switched. And then regretted it. The teacher didn't seem very communicative and three days after Cady started threw her hands up and said, "I don't know what to do" in response to not being able to get Cady to go to the cafeteria for lunch or the playground afterwards. It just didn't *feel* right. Not to mention that Cady had been pining away for Ms. Schaeffer every single day. "Can I go back to Ms. Schaeffer's class now?" And so, Monday morning I took time off of work and begged our way back into Kunsmiller. Cady is a Kunsmiller Dragon and we stand by that choice. It was a long process but maybe just what we needed to do to feel good about her being in the right place.
Coben LOVES his child care center. He has a little boy crush on one of his teachers, Ms. Gina and gets a little giddy when he says her name. He has made lots of good friends and is happy to go everyday. He has not shed one single tear and now he finally tells us that he didn't like the place he went to last year (mommy gut was right). His happiness has made going back to work much much easier. Still addicted to my hair. He still strokes it and twirls it and nearly makes me bald when he is nervous. The other day I was putting him in the car seat after school and he even asked, "mommy, I need to touch your hair".
Cady and Coben together. At their best they are so much fun. Their interactions are priceless and you can see the pure love. At their worst they are poking, yelling, hitting and tormenting each other in any way they see possible. It's not much different than what I went through with my siblings but let me tell you being on the non-parental side of it is MUCH easier to endure.
I think we are finding our groove. We might even be, dare I say, FUNCTIONING!?
And with this out of the way I hope to return to some shorter and fluffier blog entries.
I've been keeping little Cady-isms on the fridge at home this whole time. I'll be sure to post those. Not today though. For now I felt like I needed to strike while the iron was lukewarm.
To pick up from May. Cady graduated from preschool. Coben was glad to be done with childcare. Even if it was only two days a week it was not his favorite place.
The summer. It whizzed by. This was not helped by my persistent anxiety about going back to work and having NOTHING in place from child care to Cady's school and the kids fought like crazy. As you all know we managed to slip in a surprise trip to Disneyland. Lesson learned, do NOT try to surprise a child who is overtired and gravitates toward the predictable. Nevertheless it was a magical trip. We were on the go pretty much from sun-up until well after sundown the entire trip. We visited the beach with the big waves. Cady was a huge fan and Coben not so much. I suppose when the waves are about four times your size it takes on a different feel.
I won't go into the school fiasco in it's entirety but sit back because even if I fast-forward to August it's long. School "choice" has no meaning when your choices have way more demand than the school can meet. At the end of July we got a call from our neighborhood school (where Cady attended 3 yr old preschool) and they had a full-time spot for her with Ms. X(Ms. WHO? I had requested the other teacher who I know is phenomenal but was told they couldn't accommodate requests). So I did what any reasonable parent would do who is faced with having to make a quick decision without getting to meet the teacher. I pulled up her facebook profile. And I don't know, she didn't look like a Kindergarten teacher but what can you really tell by a picture. So I made an appointment with the principal and went in and spoke to her. I explained what Cady's needs were and when I pressed the principal on what the assigned teacher was like her response was, "she did a nice job for us last year". NICE???? How about, "she's great! you'll love her!" or "she's very good at what she does." When pressed further she elaborated, "I think that things will be better for her this year. She had some rough kids last year and came on mid-year?" So I ask, "came on mid-year?" and I'm told that the other teacher resigned suddenly. Okay. STRIKE.
So, I ask about art. Art REALLY engages Cady. She gets absorbed in it and is able to tune everything out around her. I was told they don't have an art teacher and haven't had one. BUT, last year they were able to get a volunteer for six weeks. Six whole weeks huh? So I walked home feeling that it just wasn't a good fit. And I was having a hard time with it because I have always had a "rah rah neighborhood school" mentality. And I'm the first one to say that your neighborhood school is what you make of it. Get involved. Yadda yadda. That day I had a complete and total shift in my thinking. And so we accepted at Kunsmiller. On a side note, a friend of mine has her child in Kindergarten at our neighborhood school and says, "That Ms. X scares me. She's the type that takes the fun out of learning. If my child had gotten her as a teacher I think he would probably need psychotherapy." Score one for facebook!
So here we go. I go to register for Kunsmiller and instantly love Cady's teacher. She's young and energetic and has a great philosophy. She's a great communicator and has her bachelor's in music and her master's in early childhood. Great combo. Kunsmiller offers arts classes every day. Cady will have visual art, dance, theater and dance throughout the year in addition to the regular pull-outs like library, PE and technology. And it's a K-12 so she could potentially stay there. So, day one was a huge success. Ms Shaeffer is a big hugger and had colored playdough and Cady bonded with her almost immediately. But that very same day we get a call from the school up the road that was our first choice. It has a fantastic educational philosophy and has been going strong for 30 years. It was an agonizing decision but we switched. And then regretted it. The teacher didn't seem very communicative and three days after Cady started threw her hands up and said, "I don't know what to do" in response to not being able to get Cady to go to the cafeteria for lunch or the playground afterwards. It just didn't *feel* right. Not to mention that Cady had been pining away for Ms. Schaeffer every single day. "Can I go back to Ms. Schaeffer's class now?" And so, Monday morning I took time off of work and begged our way back into Kunsmiller. Cady is a Kunsmiller Dragon and we stand by that choice. It was a long process but maybe just what we needed to do to feel good about her being in the right place.
Coben LOVES his child care center. He has a little boy crush on one of his teachers, Ms. Gina and gets a little giddy when he says her name. He has made lots of good friends and is happy to go everyday. He has not shed one single tear and now he finally tells us that he didn't like the place he went to last year (mommy gut was right). His happiness has made going back to work much much easier. Still addicted to my hair. He still strokes it and twirls it and nearly makes me bald when he is nervous. The other day I was putting him in the car seat after school and he even asked, "mommy, I need to touch your hair".
Cady and Coben together. At their best they are so much fun. Their interactions are priceless and you can see the pure love. At their worst they are poking, yelling, hitting and tormenting each other in any way they see possible. It's not much different than what I went through with my siblings but let me tell you being on the non-parental side of it is MUCH easier to endure.
I think we are finding our groove. We might even be, dare I say, FUNCTIONING!?
And with this out of the way I hope to return to some shorter and fluffier blog entries.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Me again, what????
You all endured part 1 so it's only fair to give you part 2. Remember that fabulous new hair cut? Well, it's really needing a trim right about now. In fact I have an appointment tomorrow. My last one ever with Tracy who is shifting her business to her friend. So sad for me. A hairdresser that you love is hard to find. But I digress because part 1 started with the hair. Part 2 has nothing to do with the hair.
So, let's see. You all know about the Teen Parent Programs being cut. I don't think that I mentioned that after the phone call telling me that my position was eliminated I sent off an email to my Director that I had a feeling was a bad idea yet I was unable to NOT fire it off either because sometimes you just have to speak your mind to put things to rest and move on. (okay, maybe you don't but I do). That particular email thanked him for being kind enough to make a personal call to break the bad news and that I understood that the decision was financially driven yet I also hoped that they would consider looking at a way of restructuring the program so that one person could service all of the schools with the school staff doing the day-to-day services and the teen parent social worker acting as a consultant to the staff and delivering direct services to the students with more intensive needs. It was one of those emails where you don't feel the anxiety until after you hit send.And then you kind of wished that you had felt the anxiety first to prevent you from sending it.
Fast-forward. I posted about DC-21. The school with a great vision and philosophy and somewhat undesirable schedule. Stefanie and I have emailed back and forth and I've been waiting for the position to be posted. I had a month to waver back and forth and this past week I knew with all certainty that it's where I'm supposed to be. I started to get excited about the possibilities attached to the position. As a formality though I had to go to this degrading speed-dating type event for social workers who are officially on part-time assignments to match up with principals who are looking for part-time social workers. I was on the list so I felt like I had to show up because my bosses were there even if I already felt secure in my potential to work at DC-21. Before the first principal was done laying our her grand expectations of the grunt work that she was expecting her new hire to engage in with only two days a week while she was "very involved with what they are doing so that I can be sure that they are priortizing correctly" I wanted to bolt out of the room. And then, this is the part of the story that gets good, my former Director who is now Director of Special Education and Mental Health services motioned for me to come speak to him in the hallway. And on the spot he offered me a position operating the newly created position that would be providing district-wide services to teen parnts. I've worried for the past three years since being in the teen parent program and working closely with him that I have been a little too outspoken at times. And maybe I have but the bottom line is that he picked ME! Except I was too dumbfounded at the moment to appreciate the offer. In fact, I couldn't see him in any other way than as an ex-boyfriend who had come back to me after I was already in a new relationship. "What? You want us to be together? But I'm in LOVE with DC-21. I just got over you!" The only question I asked was how many days the position was (full-time). And because I honestly didn't know how I felt at that moment I asked him to give me some time to think it over.
I went home and Rob listened to me ALL. NIGHT. LONG. ramble on about the pros and cons of each position. I had gotten myself really excited about DC-21 and was now comparing apples to oranges with both having equal amounts of pros and cons (I was trying very hard to not let the fact that it wasn't year round weigh too heavily). So I did what you do when you aren't sure about something. I slept on it. And I woke up and thought, opportunities like this don't come along every day. And I went to work and I shared the news with my co-workers who congratulated me and then had the audacity to snicker out loud when I said, "Hey! I haven't made my decision yet!" They knew. And suddenly I did too. I fired off a list of questions to the Director---Would I have use of a computer and phone? (not just because of working district-wide but I actually worked this entire year with a phone that had no ringer. These are real valid questions if you are working in education). Can I work traditional high school hours? Will I have opportunities for professional development? He responded within the hour. I accepted the position and submitted the necessary forms and today I received this in my inbox:
This email serves as confirmation that you have been recommended for hire for the following position:
Title: TEACHER ON SPECIAL ASSIGNMENT Mental Health and Assesment Regional Support Specialist
Location: Administration-Central Office
FTE: 1
Human Resources will contact you to begin the hiring process. Thank you.
And I can't think about it too hard or I start to get woozy. I'm back to work full-time. A month ago I would have thought that I was a good two years away from going back full-time. (Expect a blog in August about how I feel like my heart is being ripped out being away from my kids for so long). I'm taking on the biggest professional challenge of my life. I could succeed or I could bomb and the future of teen parenting programs will depend on how well or poorly I do (no pressure or anything, right?) The position is ONLY funded for one year with no promises beyond that. I'm taking the plunge.
So, I've realized that it's not so much about the haircut nor is it about the bucket of clothes that I found. I think that this is what being 40 feels like. And I like it!
So, let's see. You all know about the Teen Parent Programs being cut. I don't think that I mentioned that after the phone call telling me that my position was eliminated I sent off an email to my Director that I had a feeling was a bad idea yet I was unable to NOT fire it off either because sometimes you just have to speak your mind to put things to rest and move on. (okay, maybe you don't but I do). That particular email thanked him for being kind enough to make a personal call to break the bad news and that I understood that the decision was financially driven yet I also hoped that they would consider looking at a way of restructuring the program so that one person could service all of the schools with the school staff doing the day-to-day services and the teen parent social worker acting as a consultant to the staff and delivering direct services to the students with more intensive needs. It was one of those emails where you don't feel the anxiety until after you hit send.And then you kind of wished that you had felt the anxiety first to prevent you from sending it.
Fast-forward. I posted about DC-21. The school with a great vision and philosophy and somewhat undesirable schedule. Stefanie and I have emailed back and forth and I've been waiting for the position to be posted. I had a month to waver back and forth and this past week I knew with all certainty that it's where I'm supposed to be. I started to get excited about the possibilities attached to the position. As a formality though I had to go to this degrading speed-dating type event for social workers who are officially on part-time assignments to match up with principals who are looking for part-time social workers. I was on the list so I felt like I had to show up because my bosses were there even if I already felt secure in my potential to work at DC-21. Before the first principal was done laying our her grand expectations of the grunt work that she was expecting her new hire to engage in with only two days a week while she was "very involved with what they are doing so that I can be sure that they are priortizing correctly" I wanted to bolt out of the room. And then, this is the part of the story that gets good, my former Director who is now Director of Special Education and Mental Health services motioned for me to come speak to him in the hallway. And on the spot he offered me a position operating the newly created position that would be providing district-wide services to teen parnts. I've worried for the past three years since being in the teen parent program and working closely with him that I have been a little too outspoken at times. And maybe I have but the bottom line is that he picked ME! Except I was too dumbfounded at the moment to appreciate the offer. In fact, I couldn't see him in any other way than as an ex-boyfriend who had come back to me after I was already in a new relationship. "What? You want us to be together? But I'm in LOVE with DC-21. I just got over you!" The only question I asked was how many days the position was (full-time). And because I honestly didn't know how I felt at that moment I asked him to give me some time to think it over.
I went home and Rob listened to me ALL. NIGHT. LONG. ramble on about the pros and cons of each position. I had gotten myself really excited about DC-21 and was now comparing apples to oranges with both having equal amounts of pros and cons (I was trying very hard to not let the fact that it wasn't year round weigh too heavily). So I did what you do when you aren't sure about something. I slept on it. And I woke up and thought, opportunities like this don't come along every day. And I went to work and I shared the news with my co-workers who congratulated me and then had the audacity to snicker out loud when I said, "Hey! I haven't made my decision yet!" They knew. And suddenly I did too. I fired off a list of questions to the Director---Would I have use of a computer and phone? (not just because of working district-wide but I actually worked this entire year with a phone that had no ringer. These are real valid questions if you are working in education). Can I work traditional high school hours? Will I have opportunities for professional development? He responded within the hour. I accepted the position and submitted the necessary forms and today I received this in my inbox:
This email serves as confirmation that you have been recommended for hire for the following position:
Title: TEACHER ON SPECIAL ASSIGNMENT Mental Health and Assesment Regional Support Specialist
Location: Administration-Central Office
FTE: 1
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And I can't think about it too hard or I start to get woozy. I'm back to work full-time. A month ago I would have thought that I was a good two years away from going back full-time. (Expect a blog in August about how I feel like my heart is being ripped out being away from my kids for so long). I'm taking on the biggest professional challenge of my life. I could succeed or I could bomb and the future of teen parenting programs will depend on how well or poorly I do (no pressure or anything, right?) The position is ONLY funded for one year with no promises beyond that. I'm taking the plunge.
So, I've realized that it's not so much about the haircut nor is it about the bucket of clothes that I found. I think that this is what being 40 feels like. And I like it!
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Night and Day
One of the things that I find amazing about being the mom of two kids is how uniquely wonderful each child is and in our case I don't think that we could have two that were any more opposite. Cady has always had an intensity and a joy for life that leaves her wondering what is around the next corner. Coben's joy is in the everyday things and he's willing to go wherever the tides take him. If Cady is fire, Coben is water.
For example, Cady came out of the womb screaming. The nurses at the hospital offered no help whatsoever and we didn't even know that there was anything unusual about her screaming for hours at a time instead of sleeping until the nurse commented at check-out, "oh you were the ones in the room with the baby that cried the whole time." Oh? They aren't supposed to do that? The first few months were difficult so in preparation for Coben's arrival we asked Mimi to come stay for a week so that we would have some help this time around. The kid did nothing but sleep the entire time that Mimi was here and the real help ended up being the time that was spent allowing Cady to run and play and not be cooped up with a baby those first few days.
Cady loves to be outdoors and has unlimited energy. Indoor toys have never inspired her and without the ability to run and play she becomes bored rather quickly. She thrives and flourishes on family visits and loves to be around those who love her. Coben on the other hand can push a car around the house for hours going, "vroom vroom" or make tower blocks and crash them over and over. Family visits are okay. Yes, there are extra people around who love him and that he gets a kick out of spending time with but it doesn't absolutely knock his socks off the way it does for Cady.
Cady functions best with rules. She likes to know what the rules are, she likes to make sure everyone knows the rules and she helps enforce the rules for those that aren't following them. When she gets in trouble it is typically for doing things impulsively that fall into the not a good idea spectrum but she has never really tested the limits of time-out and to this day if we count to three she has never allowed us to get to three to see what happens. Rules help her regulate because she is not as systematic as others and it's really lovely because we have been able to tell Cady, "that's just the rules" when she questions something and she is wholly satisfied. Coben on the other hand functions with his own set of rules and all those other ones are just optional. Things have to be a certain way and since I am not a person that is very careful about doing things to completion or in a certain order (Hellooo! Mother of Cady here) he often corrects me. The shopping cart must go back in the corral (I almost always do this but sometimes it's really far and ice cream melting in the hot car is a bigger concern), not wiping off the cart handle because the store is out of clorox wipes can provoke a full-blown melt-down, his pillow has to be turned-over so the picture is facing up. BUT if the rules are the big gnarly PARENT rules it's a whole new ball game. Pushing his sister's buttons (which I must say is NOT hard to do) far outweighs any consequence, time-outs are for escaping and laughing, and I have NO doubt that our parenting skills will be called out in the near future when we count to three, actually hit three, and aren't sure what to do about it.
Another interesting diference is the way that Cady loves to hoard things. Remember the hoarding corner? http://krumpledcady.blogspot.com/2007/07/hoarding-corner.html That has long ago evolved into her entire room being the Hoarding Headquarters. I'm amazed at what she collects. Packets of sugar from a restaurant, the green twisty things from the produce section of the grocery store, the clips that close the bread and keep it from getting stale, rocks, shells, twigs, buttons, stickers, ticket stubs, and anything that can fit in her pocket. In fact, we were at the grocery store earlier using the self check-out and I turn around to see that she has swiped several plastic grocery bags. I put my foot down on that one and had her return them since we have at least 100 of them stuffed under our sink already only to be confronted a short time later in the car by some tree flowers and a white rock that she had smuggled from the parking lot. When I questioned her about it in the car she told me with total and complete conviction that she worries about these random objects being lonely and not having a family to love them and take care of them. If you are a fan of The Middle, this may lead you to a flashback of the episode where Sue can't get rid of her electric curlers because they are a family and will be lonely without each other, right? It certainly did for me! And forget about tossing stuff. I either have to do it when she is not around and even then she has been known to rescue said items from the trash because she has a nack for discovering even seemingly well-buried objects or we have a discussion which doesn't always work. She's got great logic (some would say inargueable) about why we can't throw the one-legged doll away. "Would you do that to a person?" Her bed. Well, I can't even describe her bed except to say that it reminds me of a hamster nest. The covers are always in a ball and the bed is full of friends. And the bed pictured here has been compromised DOWN to this many "friends".
How does this differ from Coben? Coben has a couple of stuffed animals in his bed and those stuffed animals positively annoy him at bedtime. He gets into bed and immediately starts slinging animals out. "No Bonz! No Doh-no! No Long Dog!" His bed has to be clutter-free. He has to have three blankets, no more, no less and they can't be bunched up. His feet have to be covered up in order to sleep well. Order order order.
Finally, the last big difference is shopping. Cady absolutely abhors shopping. If I could plan the worst day ever it would be to spend the day at the mall, followed by grocery shopping and then a trip to Coscto. Even if the shopping trip is dedicated 100% to shopping for clothes for Cady she HATES it. Coben cannot get enough. When I tuck him in on a Thursday night and we talk about the day ahead he gets excited and squeals, "Store? Groceries?" This week, every day off that I had was dedicated to shopping. We had Easter shopping to do, Shopping for Cady's birthday, I had to return a paint set that we bought for Cady, we hit two grocery stores. And after every store, as I would put Coben in his car seat he would hold up one finger and flash a charming smile, "one more store? please mommy?" For Cady, being confined to a cart = torture. . For Coben it's time for him to act silly and get 100% attention from his mom. He plots out our grocery store route. First soup samples, then a free cookie, "paytime" and a grand finale penny horsey ride. And when we are finished (you know, AFTER the cart has gone back to the corral), he is delighted to "help" unload groceries. I'm usually less than delighted by the "help" because grocery shopping almost always takes way longer than I think which runs into well past lunch time and my mission is to hurry and put stuff away so I can fix lunch and get him down for a nap so that he is then awake in time to pick Cady up from school. "Helping" with groceries means carrying a small bag and dramatically groaning "Ughhhhh....hebby hebby hebby!" while items fall out on the way to the door. Me standing AT the door with 6-8 bags of my own which really ARE heavy while blocking the door with my foot so Fibi doesn't run out all the while trying to maintain my "boy are you really helping" facade by chirping, "Great job Coben, keep walking. Okay don't set the bag down there we need to bring it in. Good job, you're almost here. Yes that's a spider web on the window. Yes, spiders made that. Nope, I don't see any spiders right now. Almost there Coben, c'mon!"
Speaking of spiders here's a total side note. We have been infested! It's like one mom and dad spider got busy a LOT and had a bazillion offspring that all look identical and freak the kids out. On a nightly basis Cady calls Rob in to exterminate at least one spider sometimes more. It's like she lays in bed looking for them. She avoid areas of the house if she sees a spider there and we narrowly avoided a head injury the other day when she jumped out of the bath naked and sopping wet and tore down the hallway screaming, "Spider in the bath, spider in the bath!". I hate spiders too and so when Rob is not around I get to be the exterminator. It's rare that I am as humane as Rob with his catch and release method and for some reason nearly all of my attempts to exterminate have resulted in me swatting a spider who disappears in the process and then trying to keep my cool in front of Cady and act completely unafraid while inwardly having a near panic attack wondering if the spider has landed somewhere on me like in my hair or down my shirt while reassuring her in a fake composed voice, "yep, looks like I got him. He's right here on this shower curtain package and I'm just going to go throw him away." So Coben has picked up on Cady's fear and between the two of them anytime they see a spider they are both prone to squealing, "Spider Spider SHRIEEEEK!" or in Coben's case "Pider Pider, SQUEAAAL!" So really they are not all that different!
Those of us that know us well I pose this question. Do you see any similiraties between our children and us? It's eerie isn't it? I'm appalled when I see what new treasures are exhibited in Cady's room and then I reflect on Rob's horror everytime he has to retrieve something from my purse, "I don't even like going in there. What IS all that stuff? No wonder you can never find your keys." I hear myself saying to the kids, "You can't go into the playplace without socks. I don't care what others are doing, those are the rules!" or to Rob, "It says that only kids are allowed on the slides" as Rob throws caution to the wind and comes barrelling down on his stomach. And I remember being incredulous at my own brother's stubborness as a 7 year old and how he was more willing to stand in the bathroom for 5 minutes fully-dressed with the shower running pretending to shower rather than just take a shower. And then there is Rob. The one who puts groceries away (ie, all of the items that I pulled from the pantry to make dinner) before I have had a chance to use them. Rob whose worst hoarding offense is not purging old overused T-shirts. Rob who would never fathom committing a grocery store faux pas like putting the salt that you no longer need in the aisle with the soup because it's closer. Rob who regulates his own actions but will roll his eyes if someone else tries to do it.
I find it rather fascinating that we could create two uniquely differerent kids with equally big personalities. And I find humor in the fact that I am living with two men who will keep me guessing where my clutter has gone because they have organized it away. And in turn they will be living with two women who will be calling upon them to help them find misplaced articles because they are too busy plotting for whatever is around the next corner instead of noticing where they put their sunglasses.
For example, Cady came out of the womb screaming. The nurses at the hospital offered no help whatsoever and we didn't even know that there was anything unusual about her screaming for hours at a time instead of sleeping until the nurse commented at check-out, "oh you were the ones in the room with the baby that cried the whole time." Oh? They aren't supposed to do that? The first few months were difficult so in preparation for Coben's arrival we asked Mimi to come stay for a week so that we would have some help this time around. The kid did nothing but sleep the entire time that Mimi was here and the real help ended up being the time that was spent allowing Cady to run and play and not be cooped up with a baby those first few days.
Cady loves to be outdoors and has unlimited energy. Indoor toys have never inspired her and without the ability to run and play she becomes bored rather quickly. She thrives and flourishes on family visits and loves to be around those who love her. Coben on the other hand can push a car around the house for hours going, "vroom vroom" or make tower blocks and crash them over and over. Family visits are okay. Yes, there are extra people around who love him and that he gets a kick out of spending time with but it doesn't absolutely knock his socks off the way it does for Cady.
Cady functions best with rules. She likes to know what the rules are, she likes to make sure everyone knows the rules and she helps enforce the rules for those that aren't following them. When she gets in trouble it is typically for doing things impulsively that fall into the not a good idea spectrum but she has never really tested the limits of time-out and to this day if we count to three she has never allowed us to get to three to see what happens. Rules help her regulate because she is not as systematic as others and it's really lovely because we have been able to tell Cady, "that's just the rules" when she questions something and she is wholly satisfied. Coben on the other hand functions with his own set of rules and all those other ones are just optional. Things have to be a certain way and since I am not a person that is very careful about doing things to completion or in a certain order (Hellooo! Mother of Cady here) he often corrects me. The shopping cart must go back in the corral (I almost always do this but sometimes it's really far and ice cream melting in the hot car is a bigger concern), not wiping off the cart handle because the store is out of clorox wipes can provoke a full-blown melt-down, his pillow has to be turned-over so the picture is facing up. BUT if the rules are the big gnarly PARENT rules it's a whole new ball game. Pushing his sister's buttons (which I must say is NOT hard to do) far outweighs any consequence, time-outs are for escaping and laughing, and I have NO doubt that our parenting skills will be called out in the near future when we count to three, actually hit three, and aren't sure what to do about it.
Another interesting diference is the way that Cady loves to hoard things. Remember the hoarding corner? http://krumpledcady.blogspot.com/2007/07/hoarding-corner.html That has long ago evolved into her entire room being the Hoarding Headquarters. I'm amazed at what she collects. Packets of sugar from a restaurant, the green twisty things from the produce section of the grocery store, the clips that close the bread and keep it from getting stale, rocks, shells, twigs, buttons, stickers, ticket stubs, and anything that can fit in her pocket. In fact, we were at the grocery store earlier using the self check-out and I turn around to see that she has swiped several plastic grocery bags. I put my foot down on that one and had her return them since we have at least 100 of them stuffed under our sink already only to be confronted a short time later in the car by some tree flowers and a white rock that she had smuggled from the parking lot. When I questioned her about it in the car she told me with total and complete conviction that she worries about these random objects being lonely and not having a family to love them and take care of them. If you are a fan of The Middle, this may lead you to a flashback of the episode where Sue can't get rid of her electric curlers because they are a family and will be lonely without each other, right? It certainly did for me! And forget about tossing stuff. I either have to do it when she is not around and even then she has been known to rescue said items from the trash because she has a nack for discovering even seemingly well-buried objects or we have a discussion which doesn't always work. She's got great logic (some would say inargueable) about why we can't throw the one-legged doll away. "Would you do that to a person?" Her bed. Well, I can't even describe her bed except to say that it reminds me of a hamster nest. The covers are always in a ball and the bed is full of friends. And the bed pictured here has been compromised DOWN to this many "friends".
How does this differ from Coben? Coben has a couple of stuffed animals in his bed and those stuffed animals positively annoy him at bedtime. He gets into bed and immediately starts slinging animals out. "No Bonz! No Doh-no! No Long Dog!" His bed has to be clutter-free. He has to have three blankets, no more, no less and they can't be bunched up. His feet have to be covered up in order to sleep well. Order order order.
Finally, the last big difference is shopping. Cady absolutely abhors shopping. If I could plan the worst day ever it would be to spend the day at the mall, followed by grocery shopping and then a trip to Coscto. Even if the shopping trip is dedicated 100% to shopping for clothes for Cady she HATES it. Coben cannot get enough. When I tuck him in on a Thursday night and we talk about the day ahead he gets excited and squeals, "Store? Groceries?" This week, every day off that I had was dedicated to shopping. We had Easter shopping to do, Shopping for Cady's birthday, I had to return a paint set that we bought for Cady, we hit two grocery stores. And after every store, as I would put Coben in his car seat he would hold up one finger and flash a charming smile, "one more store? please mommy?" For Cady, being confined to a cart = torture. . For Coben it's time for him to act silly and get 100% attention from his mom. He plots out our grocery store route. First soup samples, then a free cookie, "paytime" and a grand finale penny horsey ride. And when we are finished (you know, AFTER the cart has gone back to the corral), he is delighted to "help" unload groceries. I'm usually less than delighted by the "help" because grocery shopping almost always takes way longer than I think which runs into well past lunch time and my mission is to hurry and put stuff away so I can fix lunch and get him down for a nap so that he is then awake in time to pick Cady up from school. "Helping" with groceries means carrying a small bag and dramatically groaning "Ughhhhh....hebby hebby hebby!" while items fall out on the way to the door. Me standing AT the door with 6-8 bags of my own which really ARE heavy while blocking the door with my foot so Fibi doesn't run out all the while trying to maintain my "boy are you really helping" facade by chirping, "Great job Coben, keep walking. Okay don't set the bag down there we need to bring it in. Good job, you're almost here. Yes that's a spider web on the window. Yes, spiders made that. Nope, I don't see any spiders right now. Almost there Coben, c'mon!"
Speaking of spiders here's a total side note. We have been infested! It's like one mom and dad spider got busy a LOT and had a bazillion offspring that all look identical and freak the kids out. On a nightly basis Cady calls Rob in to exterminate at least one spider sometimes more. It's like she lays in bed looking for them. She avoid areas of the house if she sees a spider there and we narrowly avoided a head injury the other day when she jumped out of the bath naked and sopping wet and tore down the hallway screaming, "Spider in the bath, spider in the bath!". I hate spiders too and so when Rob is not around I get to be the exterminator. It's rare that I am as humane as Rob with his catch and release method and for some reason nearly all of my attempts to exterminate have resulted in me swatting a spider who disappears in the process and then trying to keep my cool in front of Cady and act completely unafraid while inwardly having a near panic attack wondering if the spider has landed somewhere on me like in my hair or down my shirt while reassuring her in a fake composed voice, "yep, looks like I got him. He's right here on this shower curtain package and I'm just going to go throw him away." So Coben has picked up on Cady's fear and between the two of them anytime they see a spider they are both prone to squealing, "Spider Spider SHRIEEEEK!" or in Coben's case "Pider Pider, SQUEAAAL!" So really they are not all that different!
Those of us that know us well I pose this question. Do you see any similiraties between our children and us? It's eerie isn't it? I'm appalled when I see what new treasures are exhibited in Cady's room and then I reflect on Rob's horror everytime he has to retrieve something from my purse, "I don't even like going in there. What IS all that stuff? No wonder you can never find your keys." I hear myself saying to the kids, "You can't go into the playplace without socks. I don't care what others are doing, those are the rules!" or to Rob, "It says that only kids are allowed on the slides" as Rob throws caution to the wind and comes barrelling down on his stomach. And I remember being incredulous at my own brother's stubborness as a 7 year old and how he was more willing to stand in the bathroom for 5 minutes fully-dressed with the shower running pretending to shower rather than just take a shower. And then there is Rob. The one who puts groceries away (ie, all of the items that I pulled from the pantry to make dinner) before I have had a chance to use them. Rob whose worst hoarding offense is not purging old overused T-shirts. Rob who would never fathom committing a grocery store faux pas like putting the salt that you no longer need in the aisle with the soup because it's closer. Rob who regulates his own actions but will roll his eyes if someone else tries to do it.
I find it rather fascinating that we could create two uniquely differerent kids with equally big personalities. And I find humor in the fact that I am living with two men who will keep me guessing where my clutter has gone because they have organized it away. And in turn they will be living with two women who will be calling upon them to help them find misplaced articles because they are too busy plotting for whatever is around the next corner instead of noticing where they put their sunglasses.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Killer Lobster
I would like to thank whoever sent the lobster to Cady. I'd like to think that it was Mimi or Chris and Sophie. She received it probably about a year ago and it was one of those toys that you put into water and it grows. A year ago that caused no problem. Today is a whole different story.
Last night Cady found the lobster again in the bottom of her toy bin. The thing is maybe about 3 inches long. She told me about it and then put it in a cup of water and here's the problem. Her dad told her, "It's not that kind of lobster" and "It's not going to grow."
Fast forward to this morning. I'm in the shower and Cady is yelling at me, "Mom, you have to come quick!" Why when I'm showering is her favorite time to do this I'll never know but it certainly wasn't the first time she's said this. So I ask her to please tell me what is important enough that I have to jump out of the shower with shampoo in my hair to see. She starts to get upset (and indignant) but won't tell me. I refuse to get out and she returns just moments later with a cup. Inside the cup is THE LOBSTER. The lobster who has now doubled (maybe tripled?) in size. Cady tells me, "I can't handle this mom. This wasn't supposed to grow. I need it out of the house. I can't live with this thing." I'm chuckling, look inside the cup and tell her, "Oh my god it just moved!" and she screams. Not screams but SCREAMS. Screams and shakes. A high-pitched glass shattering very long scream. And I feel like a rotten mom because I didn't know it was THAT big of a deal at this point since Cady tends to be on the dramatic side in general. So I apologize and she persists that she can't be in the same house with this creature. Coben overhears this and grabs the cup. And just like his daddy does when the girls need spider removal, he takes the lobster outside and dumps it on the ground in front of the door. Since we were running late for school I picked it up and set it on the window ledge outside.
Fast forward again. Now we are rushing off to school. We walk out the door and SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Screaming AND shaking, again. "It moved mom. I KNOW that thing was on the ground. I just know it was. How did that happen. Something is wrong with that thing. That thing is bad. I can't handle this!!"
Thank you for the laugh bearer of the gift but the lobster is now in the TRASH. If we've learned anything from the crazy monkey in Toy Story 3 to the book There's a Nightmare in my Closet, it's that these things can cause us to have to share our bed for months. And since we are dealing with a little guy who now has a big boy bed we just so happen to already a blanket-toting toddler pushing his way in every 2 a.m. The lobster MUST die!
Last night Cady found the lobster again in the bottom of her toy bin. The thing is maybe about 3 inches long. She told me about it and then put it in a cup of water and here's the problem. Her dad told her, "It's not that kind of lobster" and "It's not going to grow."
Fast forward to this morning. I'm in the shower and Cady is yelling at me, "Mom, you have to come quick!" Why when I'm showering is her favorite time to do this I'll never know but it certainly wasn't the first time she's said this. So I ask her to please tell me what is important enough that I have to jump out of the shower with shampoo in my hair to see. She starts to get upset (and indignant) but won't tell me. I refuse to get out and she returns just moments later with a cup. Inside the cup is THE LOBSTER. The lobster who has now doubled (maybe tripled?) in size. Cady tells me, "I can't handle this mom. This wasn't supposed to grow. I need it out of the house. I can't live with this thing." I'm chuckling, look inside the cup and tell her, "Oh my god it just moved!" and she screams. Not screams but SCREAMS. Screams and shakes. A high-pitched glass shattering very long scream. And I feel like a rotten mom because I didn't know it was THAT big of a deal at this point since Cady tends to be on the dramatic side in general. So I apologize and she persists that she can't be in the same house with this creature. Coben overhears this and grabs the cup. And just like his daddy does when the girls need spider removal, he takes the lobster outside and dumps it on the ground in front of the door. Since we were running late for school I picked it up and set it on the window ledge outside.
Fast forward again. Now we are rushing off to school. We walk out the door and SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Screaming AND shaking, again. "It moved mom. I KNOW that thing was on the ground. I just know it was. How did that happen. Something is wrong with that thing. That thing is bad. I can't handle this!!"
Thank you for the laugh bearer of the gift but the lobster is now in the TRASH. If we've learned anything from the crazy monkey in Toy Story 3 to the book There's a Nightmare in my Closet, it's that these things can cause us to have to share our bed for months. And since we are dealing with a little guy who now has a big boy bed we just so happen to already a blanket-toting toddler pushing his way in every 2 a.m. The lobster MUST die!
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Big Sisters
Sometimes it can be really tough having a sister. There are days that she yells at me all day long because she thinks that I am a pesty brother that wants to get into all of her stuff. I only get into all of her stuff because she never lets me play with any of it. In fact, she doesn't even let me into her room. We have really bad days sometimes. Those are the days that my mom says we are oil and water.
But then there are good days, When my sister decides to be nice to me I am the happiest kid on the block. I live for those days. When she is nice to me she lets me touch her favorite stuff, she shares treats with me, she chases and tickles me and she hugs me and let's me hold her hand in the back of mom's car.
I do things for my sister that I don't do for anyone else. My sister is the first one who taught me to smile. My mom didn't even know this. I was only a few months old when she was trying to take my picture and Cady said, "he can smile if you ask him to" and my mom gave her a look like, "yeah, sure" and then she told me, "Smile Coben" and I put my finger to my eye and flashed my toothless gums. I have since grown teeth but to this day I still put my finger to my eye. My sister taught me how to do that girly scream that my parents refer to as the "outdoor voice". I love how my sister and I can do that scream together and my mom's whole body tenses up and she gives us THE LOOK. We just laugh because it's our thing. My sister taught me to jump off of the coffee table onto the couch and she sticks up for me ALWAYS when other kids aren't nice to me...even on the days that she thinks I am a pesty brother. And it's because of my sister that the dentist lady said I was the best almost two year old that she has ever worked on. I watched my big sister go first and after seeing how brave she was I knew that I could do it too.
My sister doesn't know yet how important she is to me. She doesn't know that this pesty brother is the only one who can see that she already has those fairy wings that she so badly wants. My sister is glitter, and fairy-wings and everything that is wonderful in the world.
But then there are good days, When my sister decides to be nice to me I am the happiest kid on the block. I live for those days. When she is nice to me she lets me touch her favorite stuff, she shares treats with me, she chases and tickles me and she hugs me and let's me hold her hand in the back of mom's car.
I do things for my sister that I don't do for anyone else. My sister is the first one who taught me to smile. My mom didn't even know this. I was only a few months old when she was trying to take my picture and Cady said, "he can smile if you ask him to" and my mom gave her a look like, "yeah, sure" and then she told me, "Smile Coben" and I put my finger to my eye and flashed my toothless gums. I have since grown teeth but to this day I still put my finger to my eye. My sister taught me how to do that girly scream that my parents refer to as the "outdoor voice". I love how my sister and I can do that scream together and my mom's whole body tenses up and she gives us THE LOOK. We just laugh because it's our thing. My sister taught me to jump off of the coffee table onto the couch and she sticks up for me ALWAYS when other kids aren't nice to me...even on the days that she thinks I am a pesty brother. And it's because of my sister that the dentist lady said I was the best almost two year old that she has ever worked on. I watched my big sister go first and after seeing how brave she was I knew that I could do it too.
My sister doesn't know yet how important she is to me. She doesn't know that this pesty brother is the only one who can see that she already has those fairy wings that she so badly wants. My sister is glitter, and fairy-wings and everything that is wonderful in the world.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Seeing Stars
It escapes me how our parenting logic has gone out the window with child #2. What happened? One would think that the first child is an experiment and the second child is when you have it figured out. Why is that not the case?
Coben has been FIGHTING us on brushing his teeth. Every single night it has been a battle to get him to release the toothbrush from his tiny fists and to open up his mouth. We always win but it involves screaming and tears (Coben), sweat (US) and lots of begging (US again).
Last week Cady walks out of the bathroom and proudly tells us that she brushed Coben's teeth and he opened up and everything. Huh. Okay. I'm not sure why or how but I'm just glad. The next night I witness it for myself. Coben opens his mouth wide and Cady delves in an gives him a good oral scrubbing.
And then....
She produces a gold star. She found the same package of stars that we have had since she was a baby. The very same stars that we bought in order to reward tooth-brushing. The very same stars that went on her tooth-brushing sticker chart. The chart that Coben doesn't have. Huh. Thank you Cady for re-teaching us how to parent. We seem to have forgotten somewhere along the way.
And tooth-brushing I might add has been a breeze ever since.
Coben has been FIGHTING us on brushing his teeth. Every single night it has been a battle to get him to release the toothbrush from his tiny fists and to open up his mouth. We always win but it involves screaming and tears (Coben), sweat (US) and lots of begging (US again).
Last week Cady walks out of the bathroom and proudly tells us that she brushed Coben's teeth and he opened up and everything. Huh. Okay. I'm not sure why or how but I'm just glad. The next night I witness it for myself. Coben opens his mouth wide and Cady delves in an gives him a good oral scrubbing.
And then....
She produces a gold star. She found the same package of stars that we have had since she was a baby. The very same stars that we bought in order to reward tooth-brushing. The very same stars that went on her tooth-brushing sticker chart. The chart that Coben doesn't have. Huh. Thank you Cady for re-teaching us how to parent. We seem to have forgotten somewhere along the way.
And tooth-brushing I might add has been a breeze ever since.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Coben...sweet sweet Coben
Coben is approaching two. I don't need a calendar to tell me that. It's evident when our sweet sweet boy is in time-out 5 times per hour for most of the day. No kidding. He's a hitter. He loves it. You can see the pure joy on his face as he winds up his arm and WHAP! hits his sister two, three, four, "COBEN!! Stop hitting your sister!!! Please go sit in your naughty chair." And a smile spreads across his face as he trucks down the hall and plants himself in his "naughty chair" beanbag in the corner of his room. His posture is SO good when he sits there. He doesn't fidget or play. He just sits erectly and waits until he gets a dismissal. And within minutes he walks up to the dog and "WHAP WHAP WHAP!" and he's back in the naughty chair.
He wants to test it all out. The grocery store. "What happens if I hit my mom in the face. I'm sitting here in the cart and she is right in front of me and WHAP! Hmmm. She didn't respond. I think she is trying to ignore me. I'll mock her the next time. WHAP! Now I'm going to open my mouth and make a gasping sound like she does when she is shocked at what I've done. Oh, oh, oh, I think I'm getting to her. One more time, this should do it. WHAP! YES YES YES!! A time-out! That's what I was aiming for. And next to the tortilla display this time. Yippeeeee!"
And he's very obvious. He waits until I'm in the room and then he starts whacking Cady and watches me at the same time. I try not to give him the reaction that he is looking for but it's back to the naughty chair.
I guess Cady went through this. I don't really remember because I think I was more horrified just at the thought of her hitting. I was afflicted by first time mom-itis! "Why is she hitting? OMG, we don't hit. Where would she learn that? She doesn't go to daycare. But kids don't just hit do they?" HA! Anyhow, Rob the Historian assured me that Cady did this. And she also had several days of 20+ time-outs and that this too is just another phase that will pass. In the meantime, if you plan on visiting, wear protective gear.
He wants to test it all out. The grocery store. "What happens if I hit my mom in the face. I'm sitting here in the cart and she is right in front of me and WHAP! Hmmm. She didn't respond. I think she is trying to ignore me. I'll mock her the next time. WHAP! Now I'm going to open my mouth and make a gasping sound like she does when she is shocked at what I've done. Oh, oh, oh, I think I'm getting to her. One more time, this should do it. WHAP! YES YES YES!! A time-out! That's what I was aiming for. And next to the tortilla display this time. Yippeeeee!"
And he's very obvious. He waits until I'm in the room and then he starts whacking Cady and watches me at the same time. I try not to give him the reaction that he is looking for but it's back to the naughty chair.
I guess Cady went through this. I don't really remember because I think I was more horrified just at the thought of her hitting. I was afflicted by first time mom-itis! "Why is she hitting? OMG, we don't hit. Where would she learn that? She doesn't go to daycare. But kids don't just hit do they?" HA! Anyhow, Rob the Historian assured me that Cady did this. And she also had several days of 20+ time-outs and that this too is just another phase that will pass. In the meantime, if you plan on visiting, wear protective gear.
Religion
It started with this.
Cady: "Mom, is Santa going to die one day?"
Me: "Nope, he lives forever"
Cady: "What about God Obama?"
And last night as we passed the courthouse on the way to the zoo it was this.
Cady: "Is that the jail or God?"
and from that it evolved into this.
Cady: "Is Jesus still a baby?
Me: "No, he was a baby a long long time ago and then he grew up"
Cady: "Does he have his kids?"
Me: "Rob, did he? No, wait, never mind, of course he didn't"
Religion. I have my own beliefs and they do involve God. But I just don't buy into any one religion being the "right" religion. I believe, like I do with most things in life, that there is a grain of truth in everything. But clearly it is time to insert some spiritual teaching.
Cady: "Mom, is Santa going to die one day?"
Me: "Nope, he lives forever"
Cady: "What about God Obama?"
And last night as we passed the courthouse on the way to the zoo it was this.
Cady: "Is that the jail or God?"
and from that it evolved into this.
Cady: "Is Jesus still a baby?
Me: "No, he was a baby a long long time ago and then he grew up"
Cady: "Does he have his kids?"
Me: "Rob, did he? No, wait, never mind, of course he didn't"
Religion. I have my own beliefs and they do involve God. But I just don't buy into any one religion being the "right" religion. I believe, like I do with most things in life, that there is a grain of truth in everything. But clearly it is time to insert some spiritual teaching.
Monday, November 29, 2010
When did it happen?
Just when did I get so dumb? I used to know things. I could recite movie quotes, tell jokes, talk about articles that I'd recently read. I don't know things anymore and I think this started when Cady became verbal. Let me share an example from just this evening.
Cady: "Confidity and beyond!"
Me: (amused and wanting her to repeat it because I'm getting a kick out of it) "Say it again! I'm trying to guess who it is."
Cady: "Confidity and beyond!"
Me: "I know this, I know this! One more time!"
Cady: "Confidity and beyond!"
Me: "I know, I know. It's Buzz Light Year from Toy Story!!"
Cady: "No, it's Woody"
Me: "I think Buzz is the one who says 'Infinity and beyond!"
Cady: (and you all know the tone of voice)"No mom. It's Woody and it's Con-fid-i-ty!"
Why even argue...
Cady: "Confidity and beyond!"
Me: (amused and wanting her to repeat it because I'm getting a kick out of it) "Say it again! I'm trying to guess who it is."
Cady: "Confidity and beyond!"
Me: "I know this, I know this! One more time!"
Cady: "Confidity and beyond!"
Me: "I know, I know. It's Buzz Light Year from Toy Story!!"
Cady: "No, it's Woody"
Me: "I think Buzz is the one who says 'Infinity and beyond!"
Cady: (and you all know the tone of voice)"No mom. It's Woody and it's Con-fid-i-ty!"
Why even argue...
Friday, November 19, 2010
Thanksgiving then Christmas
Less than a week until Thanksgiving. Cady made an astute observation while we were watching Charlie Brown Thanksgiving tonight. The episode was chock full of Christmas commercials and Cady announced, "Everyone is thinking about Christmas but nobody is thinking about Thanksgiving." She doesn't even know just how correct she is since her own mom has not even started planning a grocery list yet. Originally we were going to try to get home to Vegas or to Wisconsin to visit my family. It sounded great in theory but all kinds of details got in the way. So, we are resuming our annual Thanksgiving with the Shaw's tradition (that would be Emma's family). This is our fourth or fifth Thanksgiving together so it's a pretty awesome consolation prize! I'm sad to miss yet another opportunity to see my family though. Perhaps this summer.
Cady has been very concerned about Santa. She is starting to question his powers. Does he live forever? How does he get into our house? And the most anxiety-provoking question of all. "Can he see me when I am going to the bathroom?" I am so glad that she was able to say that out loud. I remember how completely freaked out I was at that age believing that Santa, God and my deceased Grandmother could all see me when I was going to the bathroom. I never questioned it, I just spent a few years being weirded out by it.
The big prize is the tent that Santa is getting them. I can't wait until Christmas night when they will be allowed to put their blankets and pillows in there and sleep together. I also realize that I'm probably romanticizing how that is going to go but I just love the image so much that I'm blocking out the image of possible screaming, hair-pulling, tears, and an eventual separation.
Coben is getting Cady a pillow pet which will earn Coben HUGE points. Cady started talking about wanting a pillow pet when she first saw the commercial almost a year ago. And since then pretty much every child she knows has a pillow pet. She is quick to tell us who has them, who just got one, and how many they have. Emma has one. Maddie up the street has two. Pretty much every kid in her class has one. Every Wednesday is show-and-tell and every week I look in the show and tell box to retrieve Cady's show and tell choice and there are always pillow pets in there. Well, we figured a year is long enough to suffer. Us, not her. We are the ones that have been hearing about it for months!
Cady's imagination is out of control and she's been in our bed via middle of the night awakenings for over two months now. It started when her teacher read, "There's a Nightmare in my Closet" so I'm tempted to call her teacher at 3 a.m.just to spread the joy. This too shall pass, right? Coben on the other hand sleeps in his own bed all night. He comes in around 6 and dozes for another 1/2 hour to an hour. Then he wakes up and lays on top of me. He puts his nose right up against mine and whispers, "Hi mama." Every morning he does this and every morning I wake up with a melty heart. It's the best.
Jenny continues to eat herself silly and still manages to get herself locked in random small places for hours on end on a consistent basis. Fibi just keeps on smiling. And the rest of us? We are just so thankful for everything that we have and for the people in our lives and that life is good.
Cady has been very concerned about Santa. She is starting to question his powers. Does he live forever? How does he get into our house? And the most anxiety-provoking question of all. "Can he see me when I am going to the bathroom?" I am so glad that she was able to say that out loud. I remember how completely freaked out I was at that age believing that Santa, God and my deceased Grandmother could all see me when I was going to the bathroom. I never questioned it, I just spent a few years being weirded out by it.
The big prize is the tent that Santa is getting them. I can't wait until Christmas night when they will be allowed to put their blankets and pillows in there and sleep together. I also realize that I'm probably romanticizing how that is going to go but I just love the image so much that I'm blocking out the image of possible screaming, hair-pulling, tears, and an eventual separation.
Coben is getting Cady a pillow pet which will earn Coben HUGE points. Cady started talking about wanting a pillow pet when she first saw the commercial almost a year ago. And since then pretty much every child she knows has a pillow pet. She is quick to tell us who has them, who just got one, and how many they have. Emma has one. Maddie up the street has two. Pretty much every kid in her class has one. Every Wednesday is show-and-tell and every week I look in the show and tell box to retrieve Cady's show and tell choice and there are always pillow pets in there. Well, we figured a year is long enough to suffer. Us, not her. We are the ones that have been hearing about it for months!
Cady's imagination is out of control and she's been in our bed via middle of the night awakenings for over two months now. It started when her teacher read, "There's a Nightmare in my Closet" so I'm tempted to call her teacher at 3 a.m.just to spread the joy. This too shall pass, right? Coben on the other hand sleeps in his own bed all night. He comes in around 6 and dozes for another 1/2 hour to an hour. Then he wakes up and lays on top of me. He puts his nose right up against mine and whispers, "Hi mama." Every morning he does this and every morning I wake up with a melty heart. It's the best.
Jenny continues to eat herself silly and still manages to get herself locked in random small places for hours on end on a consistent basis. Fibi just keeps on smiling. And the rest of us? We are just so thankful for everything that we have and for the people in our lives and that life is good.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
The Holidays are a-comin
It's October? Really? What happened to August and September? I'll tell you. Gone. Time spent driving the kids to and from school. Ballet, Tap, Music Class, and Gymnastics. Physical Therapy for me twice a week. Trying to squeeze in exercise. And then school events. Blogging time? Forget about it. When we are not running I just want to turn off.
School has been going well. We are really happy with Cady's school. She is so excited about learning again and she is growing by leaps and bounds. She is starting to sound out words and attempting to link those sounds together to make her own written words. Coben is in love with his new BFF Leo. There was a time when I would come to pick him up and he would run to me, hug me and head for the door. And now it's a fight to get his shoes on and I have to practically beg him to leave with me.
The picking Cady up from school ritual is beautiful. Every single day, whether we are pressed for time or not, we MUST engage in the rituals.
The rituals:
We park the car and enter the building. Coben must open the door all by himself. He waves to the security guard. We have to stop and look in all of the display cases. We must then run up the ramp and get a drink from the water fountain. Then it's running down the hallway and looking in the display cases up there. Then we walk into the room and Coben shrieks, "Cady!" and runs in to find her to give her a hug. As I'm checking out he must wash his hands and dry them. And then we leave and we repeat the rituals on the way out with the addition of climing up onto the wall and running on the ledge. And he must sit on the end before he gets down. If any of this is out of order or not done there is a price to pay and it's not pretty. I made the mistake one day of using the restroom and for days afterword Coben ran to the restroom and yelled, "mama!" because he was sure that using the restroom was a new addition. Anyhow, it's very trying but watching him burst into the room to find his sis is priceless. Watching him mimic everything that she does when they walk out of the school together is better than priceless.
And here comes Christmas. Cady doesn't watch tv anymore except for one show at night if she has earned it. Saturday and Sunday we are more liberal and she has been known to watch a few Sponge Bob's in a row before we shut it off. And with tv comes tv commercials. Nearly every commercial elicits this response:
"Mom, Dad, I want this!"
"What does it do?"
"I don't know but I want it!"
OR
"Mom, Dad, I want this! It bends and twists and you can tie it up and it's only 19.99 but you have to be 18 to order and you get a free extra bendy-twisty thing if your order now!"
I made her a little book tonight. The plan is for her to use it to cut and paste pictures of what she wants into it so that we can later discuss. Really, it's a way to channel all of those wants and hopefully she'll see how accumulative those wants are and realize the challenge in narrowing down her top wants.
Cady vocab. I've been writing these down.
Yo-grit=yogurt
Thingers=Fingers
Hump-is=Compass (mine and Rob's personal favorite. Arrested adolescent humor I guess)
carfume=perfume
Endevelope=Envelope
And Coben. Yes folks, he can talk. Things are finally clicking for him and he realizes that words=power. "No" is a favorite. "Cady" ranks right up there too. He's just a talking machine. And he is still sleeping. I keep waiting for the other shoe to fall but it hasn't yet. We tuck him in and he's out. He does like to wake up at 5 and for lack of better words...it SUCKS. But, it sure beats the all night wake ups that another little person used to put us through. And naps are a breeze. We so deserve this. We paid our dues into this club.
Why does this feel like a Christmas letter? I remember that Rob and I started to feel normal after Cady was about 2. So, seeing as how Coben has about 5 more months I'm confident that the blog will be more bloggy and less Christmas-lettery sometime after March. Eek, I will be 40!!
I think I'll go process that!
School has been going well. We are really happy with Cady's school. She is so excited about learning again and she is growing by leaps and bounds. She is starting to sound out words and attempting to link those sounds together to make her own written words. Coben is in love with his new BFF Leo. There was a time when I would come to pick him up and he would run to me, hug me and head for the door. And now it's a fight to get his shoes on and I have to practically beg him to leave with me.
The picking Cady up from school ritual is beautiful. Every single day, whether we are pressed for time or not, we MUST engage in the rituals.
The rituals:
We park the car and enter the building. Coben must open the door all by himself. He waves to the security guard. We have to stop and look in all of the display cases. We must then run up the ramp and get a drink from the water fountain. Then it's running down the hallway and looking in the display cases up there. Then we walk into the room and Coben shrieks, "Cady!" and runs in to find her to give her a hug. As I'm checking out he must wash his hands and dry them. And then we leave and we repeat the rituals on the way out with the addition of climing up onto the wall and running on the ledge. And he must sit on the end before he gets down. If any of this is out of order or not done there is a price to pay and it's not pretty. I made the mistake one day of using the restroom and for days afterword Coben ran to the restroom and yelled, "mama!" because he was sure that using the restroom was a new addition. Anyhow, it's very trying but watching him burst into the room to find his sis is priceless. Watching him mimic everything that she does when they walk out of the school together is better than priceless.
And here comes Christmas. Cady doesn't watch tv anymore except for one show at night if she has earned it. Saturday and Sunday we are more liberal and she has been known to watch a few Sponge Bob's in a row before we shut it off. And with tv comes tv commercials. Nearly every commercial elicits this response:
"Mom, Dad, I want this!"
"What does it do?"
"I don't know but I want it!"
OR
"Mom, Dad, I want this! It bends and twists and you can tie it up and it's only 19.99 but you have to be 18 to order and you get a free extra bendy-twisty thing if your order now!"
I made her a little book tonight. The plan is for her to use it to cut and paste pictures of what she wants into it so that we can later discuss. Really, it's a way to channel all of those wants and hopefully she'll see how accumulative those wants are and realize the challenge in narrowing down her top wants.
Cady vocab. I've been writing these down.
Yo-grit=yogurt
Thingers=Fingers
Hump-is=Compass (mine and Rob's personal favorite. Arrested adolescent humor I guess)
carfume=perfume
Endevelope=Envelope
And Coben. Yes folks, he can talk. Things are finally clicking for him and he realizes that words=power. "No" is a favorite. "Cady" ranks right up there too. He's just a talking machine. And he is still sleeping. I keep waiting for the other shoe to fall but it hasn't yet. We tuck him in and he's out. He does like to wake up at 5 and for lack of better words...it SUCKS. But, it sure beats the all night wake ups that another little person used to put us through. And naps are a breeze. We so deserve this. We paid our dues into this club.
Why does this feel like a Christmas letter? I remember that Rob and I started to feel normal after Cady was about 2. So, seeing as how Coben has about 5 more months I'm confident that the blog will be more bloggy and less Christmas-lettery sometime after March. Eek, I will be 40!!
I think I'll go process that!
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