It's been 3.5 years since I came to this space. Somehow I ended up here today. And then, well, I had words. The truth is the blog been poking at my brain over the last several months, which is odd since it had probably been more than a year since I'd thought of it. Are blogs even a thing anymore? It seems like most folks have moved to other types of social media. Well, it's fine, because as always, this space is as much for my own brain and processing as for anything (one) else. 

So much has changed in the last several years. The boys are big, both physically and in other ways. The kid is almost 17 and halfway through his Junior year. We're talking about college and careers and getting close to considering taking his driving permit test. Maybe. Still not sure momma is ready for that. Mostly not sure that he is. We're strongly considering community college or at least a school that would allow him to live at home for a year or two. Kid is incredibly smart and academically capable, but those executive functioning skills need support and some additional time to develop. I recognize how far we've all come that he, too, is in agreement (most days) with this. 

E is 12 and in 6th grade though is often confused for a high schooler (the child is 5'9', y'all!). Middle school has been... an adjustment thus far as he starts to seek peer approval (as is to be developmentally expected). He has the most amazing leadership skills but is still navigating how to use those in ways that are good for him and others. I am so glad we decided to delay kindergarten years ago because I absolutely believe it helped to foster this leadership ability. But, if he could just use it not to incite a classroom of kids to yell out things about "balls", that would be great. Seriously, y'all, why are middle schoolers obsessed with "balls" (insert big sigh and eye roll here). 

Both boys are way taller than me. I call them "the bicker brothers" but the truth is they love each other and hang out a lot. I take their relationship as a parenting win. I'm grateful for it, for them. 

Adoption-wise, things are pretty quiet. We have only rare contact with the boys' first families and only via facebook. The boys rarely talk about them. I, as always, need to do a better job of intentionally bringing them up with the boys to assure they know it's a safe topic of conversation. I know in my professional-brain that by now both boys should know the entirety of their stories and histories (at least what I know of them). And, while the kid does, E doesn't really. I need to find the time and space to prioritize this. 

I've changed jobs a couple of times in the last 3yrs. Working in healthcare during Covid was hard, y'all. Hard. Also, because I apparently enjoy making my life more difficult than it needs to be, I also decided to get a doctorate. I started that in the summer of 2020 and will graduate this May. Finally. Most of this time I've also had a full-time job and a part-time job (though for a period I had 1 full-time and 2 part-time jobs). Thankfully, I'm currently down to only one full-time gig - as a therapist. I've taken a break from teaching, but hope to pick that back up in the fall once this doctorate is done. 

Idk what I want to do with this degree. When I started, I thought I'd teach full-time. I now know, because of the way academia works, it's unlikely I'll get a faculty position. Truthfully, Idk that I'd want it anyway. Lots of folks are like, "oh you'll be done with school forever!". But I'm not willing to concede that. I don't think that door is closed. I love school and I'm good at it. I'm not ruling out the possibility of going back for a Ph.D. in public health. Please, no one tell my family this lol. 

I think the doctorate has been meeting my need to process life through writing (sort of). But, as it starts to come to an end, I wonder if I may pick back up here some. It would be different, as I'm in a different place with thinking about what and how I share my and my kids' lives and stories.I do love writing. I will likely continue with some kind of academic writing. I'll probably pursue publishing in academic journals. I can see myself getting involved in writing textbooks or the like. I appreciate there being options. But I also feel a pull to less academic writing, something more personal. I suppose, as always, time will tell.

Today's lesson: I wonder if there is always a lesson to be learned. Maybe we try to come up with one because it helps us process the hard things, the confusing ones. Maybe, sometimes, things just are and we just have to accept them as is. Maybe not everything has to make sense. Also, maybe we don't always have to have a plan. Sometimes we can just let things be and see what comes of them. 

Letting go

My kid is 13 now. E is 8. We've long since passed the point of babyhood. We've also somehow passed the point of intentional decision making as to whether or not we would try to adopt for a 3rd time. There's never been a conversation that resulted in us saying, "ok, no more kids". It was more of occasional, random, comments about missing babies, or how challenging it would be to be outnumbered by children. Comments that never really turned into conversations, deciding anything one way or the other.

But, now, it doesn't seem possible that we could go back to that place. The kid will be in 8th grade this year. E in 3rd. I cannot imagine having a baby and a teenager in high school at the same time. And, truthfully, I cannot imagine the emotional (and physical!) labor involved in parenting another child, when I already feel like I'm doing the vast majority of the parenting of these two on my own.

Last week, a student I previously worked with posted on fb that she and her fiancee were about to be approved to be foster parents. She was asking for baby items. We have closets full (literally) of baby items. Clothes (newborn - 3t), cloth diapers, infant bath tub, crib, pack-n-play, toys, bed rails, books, crib sheets, burp cloths, bottles. All. The. Things. Why have I held on so tightly to these things, y'all?

Earlier this week, she came and got them. I kept a few things. The outfits they wore home from the hospital. Some of the books they each loved, or I loved reading to them. A few toys that I can see using for play therapy at some point. The cloth diapers, because those were expensive and I need to just sell those. A few blankets that were made by family members. But the rest - an entire SUV full (seriously, trunk, backseat, and front seat) - she took all of it.

I wish I could say there was relief as she drive away with it all. But that would be a lie. Mostly, I was anxious. I worried that I hadn't looked through the clothes thoroughly enough and might have missed keeping something important. Or that I gave away a book that I didn't have fond memories of, but the boys might. WHAT IF. "What if" what, I have no idea. Just, what if...

I realize this is grief parading as anxiety. Sadness about a more definitive "no" to more babies. I'm a much more confident - likely, competent - parent of babies than teenagers. I am refilled by rocking babies night after night, and exhausted by driving children to endless sporting events. Even though I assuredly get more sleep now than when my children were small, I am more emotionally exhausted on a daily basis. I love them, and I love parenting them. But parenting older children is just more challenging for me. Babies were easy. Yes, even when E was waking every 1-2 hours day and night for almost 2yrs.

This grief is reminiscent of the grief I felt when we decided to stop fertility treatments and pursue adoption. It was - is - the decision that I knew was - is - the right decision. But that doesn't mean there aren't feelings of sadness. It's taken me a long time to get to this point. And I know, in order to get through this grief, I need to sit with it, let it be, honor it, all before I can let it go.

Today's Lesson: Not making a decision, well, it's still making a decision. Sometimes that decision is just a stopgap until you're ready to make a more permanent one. And that's okay. Sit with the decision. Make the decision. Sit with the grief. Let it be. And then move through it. You don't have to do all of it all at once. Grief is a process. Not a finite thing.

Wandering and Wondering

Sometimes I miss this space and wander back over. That seems to happen during the summer, mostly. Things are generally slower at work, with no grad students (literally) staring over my shoulder. And evenings at home are generally less stressful, with no management of homework to be done by overtired children.

If I'm being honest, part of the reason I walked (mostly) away from here is because too many people I know irl were reading. There were (are) Things I wanted to talk about that I couldn't, because it felt (feels) too uncomfortable to do so with people I know face-to-face. I've always been real here. What you read is what you get. But, to not be able to talk about these Things, well, I don't know what to say. Some of me wonders, though, whether it might just be safe to process here again. Whether, the people I know irl have long since given up reading. I'm assuming everyone has, truly, as most of time even I don't remember this space exists.

Also, I wonder if I just don't need this space like I used to. The infertility is forgotten most days. No baby waiting happening, nor will it again. I'm finally able to start getting rid of some of the baby things I've been holding onto for so long. Someone I knew when she was an undergrad student is becoming a foster parent. She posted on fb asking for baby things. It finally feels right to let go of some of the things. It makes me sad. But it feels right, too.

The kids are older, and though I find parenting at this age much more difficult than I did when they were small, I don't know how to share and process that without infringing on their privacy. (Which, I admit, I definitely did when they were younger. But it doesn't feel as sensitive what I would share at this age, just simply because of normal development.) They're both overall doing well. They're smart, and sassy, and funny, and drive me batty, and give me morning goodbye kisses (well, except at school drop off, then they prefer I not even look at them). They both love to read. The kid is way into adult dot-to-dots right now. I don't get it, but isn't that often the case with parenting? E is obsessed with some little toy that I can't even remember the name of right now. I get it even less than the dot-to-dots. They're kind, loving humans. I couldn't ask for any more.

I've also unexpectedly found a group of girlfriends with whom I converse about many of the things I used to process here. These women are such an unexpected and amazing presence in my life. I've never had a group of friends quite like them. I am incredibly grateful for the light they bring to my life. We're going on a week long girls' trip this summer. I've never done this. I've never been away from my boys for more than 3 nights. That part makes me nervous, particularly as supervision when I'm not home is less than optimal. But. BUT, I need this. And I am so looking forward to this time with my friends.


Today's Lesson: It's funny how even when we change, we hold on to certain things. Things that we know we don't necessarily need right now. But we might need them later. Maybe. Baby things. Relationships. Blogs. As long as the holding of these things isn't harmful to us or others, then go for it. Grieve it until you're ready to move on. Because, really, holding on to things is often about grief.

Pictures

Christmas (my friend's daughter, also present). You can see how tall the kid is. Tho as this was almost 6 months ago, he's grown another several inches. He's in the weird phase where he still believes in Santa, but also hides LL Bean catalogs under his bed (well, yeah, I know that's weird, but they are the dirtiest pics coming into the house).

E with Luna during one of the kid's soccer games. She is quite confident in her role of "lap dog".

See lap dog reference above.

And more cute dog pictures because, well, she's cute. E put his baby blankets on her "because she's a baby and she's taking a nap and she needs to be snuggly warm." He even folded one up and made her a pillow. Gah, I love him.

The day we got her from the shelter. Which was an overcast December day, so I've no idea why the kid has on shorts and sunglasses. Middle school boys, man...

Today's Lesson: One shouldn't try to make sense of middle schoolers. It's an exercise in futility.

Here, where ever that may be

E is 7. He'll be in 2nd grade in the fall. He does so well in school. We held him back for an extra year of preschool because he'd of been 4 for the first month or so of kindergarten (and 17 starting college) and that just didn't seem like the best idea. It's given him the opportunity to be a leader. It makes me proud to see the confidence this has given him. He's spunky. And funny. So funny. And still cuddly, though I do see an end of these days. He loves to read. Loves it. He has tantrums sometimes. Mostly when he's hungry. This child is the definition of "hangry". He talks and talks and talks, especially when he's tired. It's funny that I once worried about a language delay. He gives the best side eye.

The kid is 12. He just finished his first year in middle school. It was a growing experience for us all. Honestly, it was mostly hard. I gave in and had him diagnosed with ADHD, then started medicine. I was wrong to wait to so long. I should have agreed years ago. It's allowed him to shine through again. It's allowed him to read books, or do legos, or watch a movie, or do homework without getting up to do who knows what. It's allowed him to feel somewhat more successful at school. The 504 plan that came with the diagnosis (well, that I fought for with the diagnosis) has also helped. The meds also confirmed for me that there's more than just ADHD going on, nothing "serious" per say, but things that also make attention and school more challenging for him that it is for his peers. He joined the chorus and has loved it. After being "one and done" in orchestra and band, I'm thrilled he's found a musical outlet he loves. He grew 8in in a year and is now officially taller than me. By an inch and counting. He points it out often enough to remind me, but not so often as to be irritating as hell. I adore the person he is. We still have our days.

We got a dog. Her name is Luna. She was from the shelter. And she's adorable. Somehow she conned me into letting her onto the furniture. "My" chair has now become hers and she gets irritated with me when I sit in it. Or sometimes she just lays her head on my shoulder and agrees to happily share with me. She's recognized that I'm the responsible, reliable one the in the house. I'm mostly the only one who remembers to feed her. She follows me around the house nudging  the back of my knees with her nose when she needs food or water. The boys adore her. E a little more than she'd like sometimes. We're all learning from her.

In the fall, my father was found unresponsive in his apartment a few states away, where he's lived for more than 20 years. No one's certain how long he'd been there when he was found by a concerned internet friend and the police. Somehow, he wasn't dead. The alcohol, I suppose, has preserved him over the years. My aunt/his sister moved him back here and has yet to talk with me about this. She's had many conversations with my mother and my husband. My mother told her, thankfully, that she would not pressure me to reach out to him. If he wants a relationship, he can make the effort. He hasn't. It's okay. And it isn't.

I'm in grad school again for yet another post-graduate certificate. Apparently I'm a glutton for punishment. This time in play therapy. I'm working on becoming an LCSW (Licensed Clinical Social Worker/therapist). I'm not certain that's what I actually want to do with my life, but it feels like moving forward. And I need some forward moving in my life. So, it's progress.

Today's Lesson: Sometimes, there are things that want to be said, but we've nowhere to say them. Sometimes, the saying of things out loud is too scary, too real. Sometimes, the writing of the things is safer. Sometimes, we have to find out where the safe places are. Sometimes, that is easier said than done.

My Boy

I hate to even type this out, for serious fear that I'll jinx us and things will go back to "before", but here it is anyway.

About 6 months ago I realized the kid had gained a lot of weight. Like 30lbs in a year. And his behavior was off the charts. It had been cyclical before (for example, take a look at the last several years this time and you'll see me complaining) but over the previous 6-12months, it had been near constant. He was having a horrible school year and the thing I'd dreaded since he started at public school in kindergarten had finally happened - the school thought he needed to be diagnosed with ADHD and put on medication. I eventually relented and agreed to do testing, but it showed, like I knew it would, that he did not meet the diagnostic criteria for ADHD. I talked with our behavioral health social workers, the MDs who run the ADHD clinic, and the child psychiatrist at work and they agreed with me that he didn't meet the criteria.

Cue the appt with the pedi. She did the whole "he needs to eat better foods and get more exercise" talk. I did the whole "we rarely eat junk food - heck even processed food - and this is about the most active kid I know" response. She talked about sending him to a "program" (for overweight kids). I told her where to stick that idea and that I'd follow up with the High BMI MDs and Peds Endocrine MDs at work and let her know what they had to say.

I had a sneaking suspicion that this all (the behavior and the weight gain) all stemmed from some allergy medicine prescribed about 11 months prior by the allergist (who is an awful B, but that's a story for another day). Pedi disagreed. BMI MD and nurse practitioner disagreed. Endo MD at first disagreed. But then she took a really good look at his growth chart (shot up from a consistent 75th% over the last many years to >99th% in weight and BMI in just a year!!), ordered some labs and a hand xray, looked at some pics of him from a year prior, then stopped into my office a few days later. She thought, just maybe, I might be right. She couldn't tell me what to do allergy medicine-wise, but suggested I call the allergy MD to see what else they could put him on.

I refused to have anything else to do with that allergy MD, so just stopped the med on my own and did some research. (Actually, I had had already stopped it a few weeks prior, because I was that convinced it was at least part of the problem.) After talking with another of the BMI MDs, who actually agreed that something was seriously amiss with my boy - and not something that had to do with diet or activity - I asked the pedi to order a different, non-steroid medicine.

And, don't you know, that since then (about 6 months and counting), my boy hasn't gained an ounce. Nothing. And the whole year before then, he was averaging a gain of about 2.5lbs a month.

My kid, who had been displaying some concerning symptoms of anxiety, in addition to the impulsivity and distractability, well, he's a different kid. Gone are all symptoms of anxiety. Gone is the distractability. Gone are the angst-y, middle school girl-esque throw-myself-on-the-floor-and-sob-over-who-the-eff-knows-what fits.

Now, my kid is still there. He's still not perfect. But it seems like the essence of who *he* is, well, it's finally back in the forefront. My fairly easygoing boy who smiles and laughs all the time, who is so damn smart and loves to learn. That kid is back. And I realized he's been buried beneath a mist of steroids for years. It may be the allergy med that awful MD prescribed a year ago (well, a year and half now) that pushed him over the edge, but I realized this all started when he started on Qvar for his asthma when he was about 3yo. And, man, do I feel shitty about that.

All this time I've known something wasn't right with my kid. I've blamed the fall behavior issues on the allergies. And, yes, the allergies which lead to the asthma, which lead to him not sleeping as well, that is part of the issues. But, really, it was the allergies, that lead to the asthma, that led to us giving him the Qvar and nasal allergy medicine that caused the problems. They're what caused the problems.

Now, the MDs all tried to say that those steroids are inhaled, thus won't cause issues. Well, they were wrong. Every damn one of them. So, so very wrong. At least with my kid. And a couple of the MDs wanted to "write this up" and publish it "because that's how pediatricians learn". But, well, my kid, so I get to write it up my way. Especially since I'm the one who made this medical "discovery". Me. Not the 4-5 MDs I consulted who are "experts". Me. Just the mom. Just the lowly social worker with limited medical knowledge. And while I'm proud that I figured this out, I'm also pissed that no one else did earlier. And I'm pissed that no one - including me - figured this out years ago. I'm pissed about the difficulties my kid has had, the difficulties in our relationship we could have avoided.

But, it is what it is. We know now and we'll never allow him to be given steroids again.

And, for the record, his allergies and asthma are now so much better controlled anyway than they were with those other meds. So go figure.


Today's Lesson: For the mamas, listen to your gut. Don't let the "professionals" blow you off. For everyone else (MDs, dads, grandmas, etc...), just effing listen to the mama. Research even shows she's probably right.

The Orchestra

I was never a team sports kind of  girl. Well, to be honest, I was never a sports of any kind kind of girl (other than occasionally the swim team). But orchestra. That was my thing. It was the place I truly felt like I belonged.

I played the violin from 4th grade through Sophomore year in college, even - somehow - getting a small scholarship my first two years in college. I'm pretty sure it was thanks to my orchestra director who loved me (the feeling, btw, was mutual). I was never really any good, mind you. I never felt the need to practice at home. I mean, who wanted to lug that thing back and forth home to school every day. And practicing just my part of the music didn't sound all that great. And not just because I sucked, mind you, but because, when you're not in the first section, you rarely get the melody.

Regardless, I loved it.

I loved the music. I loved to be a part of creating the music. Even though I was somewhere far back in the 2nd violin section, hence only got a supporting role, it didn't matter to me. When all the parts played together, it was magical. Yes, even as a bunch of 4th graders. Though, I'll tell you, once we got to high school, it really was transformative for me, especially on those occasions when we got it *just right*. The feeling of creating something beautiful with a group of people, it just has profound meaning for me.

Probably as much as the music itself, the people were what made orchestra so important for me. These were my people. Yes, some of us were rather dorky. Some of us were quite popular. Many of us didn't know a football from a golf ball. But some of us were gifted athletically. Some of us sucked at our instruments. Others were truly talented (many of my orchestra friends have gone on to full-time careers in music). But, for the most part, we were who we were and - in that place, if no where else - we were accepted as we were, for who we were.

Now that doesn't mean I was great friends with everyone. There were people who I didn't particularly like, and I'm certain others would say that about me. However, there was a solidarity, a common purpose, a respect between us that  allowed for us to mostly peacefully co-exist. And that wasn't a feeling I necessarily experienced outside of that orchestra room (or cafeteria, as the case was in elementary school). But, just knowing that that kind of acceptance was a possibility, that feeling part of something bigger than me was possible, that changed my life. It had an enormous impact on who I have become.

So, you can imagine my big feelings when my kiddo agreed to participate in orchestra this year. 4th grade is when it starts. It's when it started for me. The feeling of fitting, of being where I belonged.

My kid has been struggling to find the "thing" that is his. We'd hoped he'd get into an arts school for visual arts and that he'd find his "thing" there, but it didn't happen. We haven't been able to find a sport, or any other activity that is his "thing". It's not that he doesn't like doing things. Really, he's fairly content to do about anything. But he doesn't love anything. There's just nothing that he really seems passionate about.

Also, he hasn't yet found that group of kids who are his people. And, as much as anything, I want that for him. To have a  group of peers where he feels comfortable, confident, and just able to be himself. That's what orchestra was for me.

It's totally fine with me if orchestra isn't his thing. I think there's a possibility it might be. In truth, it would thrill me if it was. But it's fine if it's not. Mostly I'll be happy, thrilled for him, when he finds whatever that thing is. Because that feeling of belonging, it makes life so much easier, so much happier, so much more full.

So, the first time I see him with his very own viola perched under his chin, the bow all rosin-ed up and poised over the strings, surrounded by other string players, I'm going to cry. And, yes it'll probably be as much for the little Becky who had finally found her place as it will be for my boy. But that's okay.

And, when he does finally find his "thing", I'll cry then, too. Because I'll remember what a gift it is, to know you are where you are supposed to be. And so grateful that he has found that for himself.


Today's Lesson: As much as I love parenting the littles, there is much joy in being able to share different parts of myself with them as they grow and can understand and accept those things. Those moments make the smart mouth a little easier to take. Usually.

From his Perspective

Momma, this morning I just wanted to show you what I made out of Legos. But you stopped me before I could and told me to take them back downstairs because I know I'm not supposed to play with them in the mornings. But I usually forget that. Because they're awesome and I love them. And, besides, I really wanted to finish this cool creation. But, I did what you wanted and took them back downstairs. Without mouthing back at you, I might add. But I got distracted when I was down there and next thing I knew, you were yelling at me to come back up to your room. And you didn't sound very happy with me.

On my way back to your room, E ran by, waving one of my drawings at me, laughing manically, taunting me. I had to get it back - right.then - because he sometimes cuts up my art stuff that I've worked so hard on. But he didn't listen when I told him to stop so I had to yell at him. He was waving it in my face on purpose and I tried to grab it. He was running down the hall when I got ahold of him and he fell down. I was so relieved to get my drawing back that I didn't even notice that he was upset. Until you stuck your head out it the hallway and demanded to know what happened.

Right away you picked up E and hugged him. But you wouldn't listen to me. I just wanted to tell you what happened. I mean, couldn't you see, he did this to himself! I just wanted my drawing back. That's it! But now I'm in trouble! It doesn't make any sense. And you're using so many words and I just want you to hear me that he was going to destroy my stuff!! Again. Because he does it all. the. time. Why won't you listen to me?! And you wonder why I don't want to tell you things sometimes. It's because you only want me to talk, well, when you want me to talk. Not when I want - or need - to talk.

You wonder why I'm sometimes sullen. Well, it's because I don't feel like I'm heard. My Legos, my drawings, you may not feel like they're all that important, but they are to me. When I yell at you, I'm trying to explain my side of it, before you start in on me. I just want to be heard. It's really not too much to ask.


Today's Lesson: There are times, as a parent, when I don't have time to listen. Or at least my perception is that I don't have time. There are times, as a parent, when I don't think the things my child is upset about are important. But my child certainly thinks they are important. There are times, as a parent, that I need to stop, slow down, shut up, and let him have his say. Because the 2-3 extra minutes this takes, will save us time later. Because my child will feel heard... listened to... important... he will know, by my actions, that he is important to me... that he is loved... that he is my priority. There are some mornings when I just need this reminder. Before the chaos starts.

All I Want for Christmas...

I am of the the Cabbage patch doll era. As in, mass hysteria!! Must get my child that toy!!! I will steal it from another parent to get it for my child!!!! I will pay 50x what it's worth!!!!!

The year I got my first Cabbage Patch doll, I remember sneaking out of my bed in the middle of the night to see what Santa had brought. I tiptoed quietly down the hall, carefully avoiding the spots that creaked in the floor. I could see the glow of the tree around the corner, illuminating the room. And there it was. It was beautiful. I did little happy dance -very quietly - when I saw it sitting under the tree.  The glow of the lights reflecting off her perfect, plastic face. I wanted to grab her and take her to bed with me right then. I was overjoyed. I doubt I got back to sleep that Christmas Eve. 

It. was. magical.

My kids don't watch much tv. As in, rarely at all during the week, and, when they do, it's a 30min PBS Kids show. On the weekends, it's not much more than that, though there's often a cartoon that hubby has DVR'ed for himself and wants to watch, so the boys get to watch, too. But, since it's DVR'ed, they don't see the commercials.

Now, I'm sure I knew about Cabbage Patch dolls from commercials. And I'm sure I bugged the heck out of my mom because of it. But, my boys don't really ever see commercials (which has been intentional on our part). And they really rarely ask for specific toys (or foods, or anything for that matter). When they do ask for toys, it's not name-brand things (other than Legos, but, really, what else would you call those? It's not really like there's a market for generic ones, either, not that I've seen at least. Then again, I also don't watch commercials). 

When we ask they boys what they want for Christmas we don't get much response. A plane. A tractor. Some Legos. Art stuff. All of which they already have. So it makes me wonder, have we stolen some of the magic of Christmas from them? 

Now, I know Christmas isn't about presents and commercialism. I mean, we focus a lot on others (not just at Christmas, mind you) and make a daily concerted effort to avoid all manner of commercialism. But, the joy I felt, seeing that doll surrounded by glowing lights, that doll that I'd begged for forever (I mean, really, since the preceding summer at least), that doll that I actually still have because I've never been able to get rid of it, that doll that my children now play with. I feel a little twinge of sadness, of regret, that they don't have that.

Of course they're excited Christmas morning. And they're always thankful for whatever they get. But the experience doesn't seem as magical as it once did to me. Maybe that's because I'm a Grinch-y old adult now. I'm sure that's part of it. I just hope we've haven't inadvertently stolen one of the joys of childhood.


Today's Lesson: Unintended Consequences - (according to Wikipedia, because that's a totally legit source when blogging about random shit) outcomes that are not the ones intended by a purposeful action. So often the outcomes of our parenting are affected by these. For better or worse.

The Science Fair

Oh, the school is doing a science fair this year and you can participate starting in 3rd grade! The kid loves science! My mom is a microbiologist! This will be a great thing for them to do together!

So I call my mom and see if she'd like to do this with him. She would. Fabulous! I ask the kid if he'd like to do a project. He has no idea what a science fair is, or what a science fair project is, but sure. We're all set. 

We decide on a project. And promptly make absolutely no progress on it. For like 2 months.

And then I start to freak the eff out. Because there's a book project due the week before (and those = serious ugliness in my house). And his audition for the arts school we're hoping to get him into is 3 days after the fair. And it, of course, involves a portfolio and all kinds of crap. And we're going out of town the weekend before it's due so no work will get done on it. And my mom is going out of town the week before that so can't work on it with him then either. And. it's. too. much.

My mom to the rescue. She spent an entire Sunday with him after we got back from our weekend trip and (it took all of us but) that sucker got done. thankyoubabyjesus

The fair wasn't until Thursday, but the project had to be at school Wednesday. Wednesday morning was one of those mornings at my house. Now, neither baby E nor I are morning people. And it's also when the kid is fairly unsupervised so tends to get a bit sneaky. All of these things were in play. 

I almost left the kid's project on the kitchen counter, necessitating a last minute dash back upstairs to get it. E had some horrific tantrum about idk what (oh, actually, i know what it was about - he didn't want to wear his new thin fleece coat in the car "because it's too puffy" <-- this is what I get for being a carseat tech and lecturing them that we don't wear puffy coats in the car because it's unsafe). While I'm trying to wrangle E into his carseat - without the perfectly safe coat on because arguing with 4yo's is about as effective as arguing with 1yo's - the kid is just wandering all around the garage like we're not already running late.

Finally, everyone is in and properly buckled. I whip out of the garage, back up into the street, and zoom forward. Only to see something flying behind me in the rear view mirror.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck <-- to my credit, that was my internal monologue. What I actually said was, "Oh, kid, oh kid, I am so, so, so, so sorry!!!". Because, yes, I'd left the science fair project sitting on the roof of the car. And it was raining. 

I slammed the brakes on. Just in time to watch 3 cars go over the area where whatever it was had landed. I pulled back into the driveway and saw, with the most relief I've possibly ever experienced, that the project poster (the biggest part of the project/display) was somehow and miraculously still on top of the car! 

By this point, E is freaking out, screaming to know what's wrong. The kid is screaming, "there it is!!! It's in the road!!!". And he's not wrong, because the notebook with all the IRB forms (didn't I mention the part where we had to get freaking IRB approval for the  science fair project of a freaking 8yo?!!!!) and human informed consent forms (yeah, we had to do that, too, with all the participants) is laying in the middle of the road. I watched one more car barrel through there and prayed the forms hadn't just been made illegible, because, you know, I never made a copy of them.

Thankfully, the thing wasn't even wet. Somehow. And all those cars had managed to avoid making contact with it. Thankfully, none of the project was any worse for wear.  

But I have to tell you, not the best morning in my house, y'all. Not the best morning at all.

Though, really, not the worst either. So I suppose I have that going for me.

The kid with his project, pre-momma leaving it on the roof of the car and almost causing serious awfulness and parental guilt for the rest of my life. 

Today's Lesson: There are certain things, as parents, we should share with each other, you know, to allow for the whole "learning from others' mistakes" thing. The sound advice to not participate in the voluntary science fair is one of them.  So, I'm sharing it with you. And, I wholly expect that next year, when I'm all, "oh, the kid learned so much from his science fair project last year. We should totally do that again!", you'll all remind me of this and expressly forbid me to sign him up. Because that's what friends are for.

A Protest

The kid was maybe 4 when he attended his first protest/rally with me (Take Back the Night/TBTN, to shine light on sexual assaults). Since then he's been to another TBTN, MLK Day rally, and another protest/rally that I can't remember. (I am a social worker, it's kind of one of our things.) So, me taking him downtown last Tuesday night wasn't a completely new phenomenon, for either of us.  But, this protest, this was about the Ferguson/Darren Wilson decision. There's so much to say about that. But much of it's been said by people more knowledgeable and articulate than me. So, instead, I'll tell you about that evening and what it was like for us.

We hurriedly ate dinner and rushed to get downtown. I'd wanted hubby and E to come, too, but E hadn't had a nap (DISASTER!!) and hubby was, well, yeah. So, it was just me and the kid. I wasn't sure how to approach this with him, what to say, because it really was different than the protests and rallies we'd been to before. 

So I asked him if he knew was racism is. Now, we've absolutely discussed it before, but it's been from more of a historical perspective (i.e. Rosa Parks, MLK, etc...), and not really personal. I told him about Mike Brown and others. I told him about how some police and legal systems treat people with brown and black skin differently than they treat people with white and "peach" (as he says) skin.

I cried.

He said, "Momma, are you sad? Are you crying?"

I told him I was.

He said, "Momma, I've seen you angry lots of time, and I've heard you yell. I've even seen you sad sometimes. But I don't think I've ever seen you cry".

Now, I'm quite certain he has, but, yes, this was different. I told him that it was different because I'm scared. I'm scared for him and E as they start to get older. 

He said, "But, Momma, all I have to do is just make good choices and stay away from the police, right?". 

And my heart broke. Because as any person of color will tell you, that's not nearly enough. 

As my boys get bigger, as they reach an age and size that I know will no longer make them "cute", but will make them the targets of unreasonable fear and suspicion, I am absolutely terrified for them. And I can feel in my momma-heart that that time will be soon for my kid.

I feel helpless to guide them through this. How in the hell do I explain that people will treat them differently because of their skin? Because I've done all I can up til now to teach them that we love and respect people because of their differences and their uniqueness; those things are to be celebrated. They are not to be feared, not to be judged.

And I have to tell you, all the comments from well-meaning friends and family about how we don't have to worry about racism with OUR kids, because, you know, WE raised them (you know, as white people who teach our kids how to act right, blah, blah, blah) . Well, those comments infuriate me and I just call bullshit. 

Because this isn't about how black and brown children are raised; it's about how society views and devalues them. It's about how "driving while black" is a real thing. It's about how my brown-skinned children are infinitely more likely to be followed through a store than my brother's white-skinned children. It's about how my black child was identified as needing "special services" at school and his white classmate who got the same score on the almighty test didn't (because, you know, some parents feel the need to post that kind of shit on fb). It's about my brown-skinned children having to hear an ignorant SOB say things like "oh, is it nigger day at the pool?". It's about how brown-skinned boys who are headed to college get quickly labeled as thugs for stealing a box of cigarettes. Or shot dead in the street for having a toy gun. Or for walking down the street with candy bars in their pockets.

Racism is real. My children have experienced it already. And I feel ill-equipped to help them. To support them. And to protect them. And it fucking scares me to the point where at moments I am completely incapacitated. 

My boy chanted his heart out. In fact, his voice, which was often even louder than my own, was a bit hoarse the next day. Hands Up Don't Shoot; 2-4-6-8- Stop The Violence, Stop The Hate; Whose Streets? Our Streets!; and my personal favorite -  Show Me What Democracy Looks Like! This is What Democracy Looks Like! 

"Momma, is this what democracy looks like?" 

"Yes, kid. This is what democracy looks like. We are here. We are making our voices heard. We are standing up for what's right. And we have the right to do all those things even though some people don't like what we have to say." 

"Momma, I'm proud of us because some people are too scared to do this, aren't they? And it's not okay for people with skin like mine to be treated different than people with skin like yours, is it?"

"No, baby it's not. And I'm proud of us, too. Probably more than you realize."

"It was cool doing this, momma... Now, can I have some hot chocolate already? It's cold out here!"

Today's Lesson: One of these days, hot chocolate will no longer be a cure-all. I do not look forward to that day.

My kiddo

Oh my kid. Where to start...

Well, it's fall. And that means behavior issues. Go ahead, look back over the posts from last few falls and you'll see a pattern. Allergy and asthma season is upon us. The pediatrician laughed because we've been to see her every year for the last 3 years within 5 days of the same day for the same reason. We actually went to the allergist several months ago and apparently he's just allergic to the whole state. Which is awesome. She recommended allergy shots, twice a week for at least a year. It took all I had not to belly laugh at her. Anyone else remember how he lost his mind with his flu shot last year? No? Just me? Well, suffice to say allergy shots will not be happening. Neither will the flu shot. So, yeah, we're giving mass amounts of medicines (allergy and asthma), which I KNOW isn't good for him either. But we're at a loss as to what else to do.

School, the teacher this year (3rd grade), well, she just seems lovely. And I'm so grateful. So (SO!!!!!) grateful. I met with her earlier this week and she had noticed (because, well, anyone would) that he's a bit distractable. I assured her it will get better once allergy season is over (s'rsly, someone, please, KILL ALL THE RAGWEED!!!). Until then, she suggested we try a behavior modification plan with rewards - and appropriate ones at that! - for staying focused. So, far that seems to be helping. 

We've also hired a tutor to help. He started with her over the summer and will continue for the foreseeable future. She actually a former 3rd grade teacher with a master's in social work who's staying home with her littles right now. She's kind of awesome. 

Look how huge he's gotten. I mean, I'm totally slumped down some here, but still. He's probably 5ft now and 80lbs. He's probably the chubbiest he's ever been. Not that it's due to lack of movement. Because, right now he's doing gymnastics, soccer, and tennis (each once/week, and two of those are at school, so don't involve us driving him all over, 'cause that's just not going to happen). He's still awfully muscular. I'm anticipating another growth spurt sometime soon.

Also, I love that he can read to me now. Of course, he'd still rather have me read to him, but we're striking a balance pretty well most days.

I struggle in my relationship with my kid. I love him. I mean, in the tips of my toes, in my brain, in my heart, in the core of my being love him. But I struggle. I'm not sure whether it's because we're so alike (quit talking to other kids all day and do your school work!!), or because we're so different (what, you don't like to read? How can you not like to read??!!). I want to be the positive-reinforcing, calming, infinitely patient mother he needs. I'm not. I'm just not. But I struggle. Sometimes it feels like every moment with him is a struggle. Not a struggle with him, mind you, a struggle within myself, to be with him how he needs and deserves so he can be the awesome kid I know he is. Struggle. 

I was reading over some old posts and came across several mentions of sneakiness. And I realized that thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou this phase has passed. I can't express my gratitude enough that 1. we're done with that, and 2. to have realized that we're done with that. I needed that reminder today. 

My kid, he really is amazing. He's so helpful and empathetic and positive. I don't know where this happy-go-lucky-good attitude came from. But I'm so grateful for it. And, truth be told, I'm terrified that we'll screw up this parenting thing so magnificently that he'll lose it along the way. 

He's artistic and we're desperately hoping that he'll get into the creative and performing arts school for next year. It's a once you're in, you're in until you decide to leave or graduate high school kind of thing. We think it'll be a wonderful fit for him. I know he's not the most artistically gifted kid they've ever seen, but I'm desperately hoping they'll see the potential in him.

What else... gah, I don't know. This is already kind of a lot, isn't it? And now you see why I had to do separate posts on my boys. 

Today's Lesson: While it does none of us any good to live in the past, looking back can sometimes remind us of how far we've come. And, as parents, can remind us on the bad days of how far our children have come. 

Being 8

The kid's birthday was, um, yeah, like almost 2 months ago. But, considering we didn't actually have his actual party til a month ago, I'm not that far behind. Right? Sure, anyway. I'm mostly documenting this for my own benefit. And his, of course.

We decided to make some homemade chocolate candy for him to take to school for his big day. They were super simple and really quite cute. We made robots and dinosaurs in a variety of colors.

This was the first year I've made a birthday cake in several years. Usually, my friend JE makes the boys adorable cakes. But, since we weren't doing the party for another month, we went ahead and had one at home on his actual birthday.

Speaking of cakes, here's the super cute one JE made. I mean, adorable.

The kid loved it, too, which is, of course, the important part.

The kids also had a blast at the party, which was not a surprise since they had free reign at the gymnastic place for an hour. Not that that's enough to actually wear my kids out, mind you. And after the sugar high from the cake and ice cream, they needed another hour to run around.

Today's Lesson: My handsome birthday boy had this lesson to offer in regards to being 8. "Being 8 is incredibly awesome. Even though as an 8 year older you still have to take naps." Anyone who corrects him on that point, has to deal with me and his Poppa.

this and that

• I've been missing in this space because I got busy with life.
• work has been busy. Which I really appreciate. Most of the time. Except when it means I don't have time for blogging.
• thankfully, we've not been sick lately. which leads me to my next point...
• I need spring to come, like for real, not this teasing "Hello, it's Spring for two days and then it snows again" crap. We've had at least 2 more snow days since my post on snow days. It's ridiculous. and I'm certain this is related to why at least one of us has had some form of cold/upper respiratory gunk pretty continuously since November.
• we've been participating in a co-op called Bountiful Baskets the last couple of months. It's a great deal (6 each veggies and fruits, generally providing most of the produce we need for a week for just $15, or upgraded to an all organic basket for $25). They also offer different foods in bulk so we've been getting those (a bushel of apples for $25, 25lbs of brussel sprouts for $18, 22lbs of asparagus for $28) and then canning and/or freezing them. I kind of love canning and want to can AllTheThings. Hubby rolls his eyes at me. Until he eats the stuff. I love seeing all those colorful cans lined up in the pantry. and i need to convince hubby that we need a bigger deep freezer. 
• maybe one day I'll do a post about canning. once I know what I'm doing and feel confident that I'm not going to give anyone botulism.
• the kid's behavior has been stellar the last couple of weeks. Idk why, but I'll take it. We've been praising him all over the place and I know that is also making a difference but I'm not really sure what else is going on. Just hoping it's a trend that continues.
• we did manage to post hearts on the boys' door every day in February. I think it helped me focus on being more positive. Maybe. E didn't pay the slightest bit of attention to them. The kid barely did. I rate it as not worth doing again. Oh well. I should at least take pics of their doors before taking them down because they look cute. But, seeing as I'm sure it'll be like August before I get around to that, I'm sure I have plenty of time.
• e's favorite song is Beyonce's "All the Single Ladies" (or whatever the real name of that song is). He sings it. All. The. Time. and it is hilarious. I should get a video.
• so, turns out the self-absorbed midwife was right about my Vit D level. And I admit it was irritating that she was right. I am taking some outrageously high dosage of it once a week for the next couple of months. But, I've seen no change as it relates to any of my symptoms so there's that. And I am still on the search for a new provider. The phone call we had when she told me the results would be good fodder for another post. Because it was no better than my actual visit with her.
• I really miss nursing E. A lot. He still asks on occasion. it doesn't seem it's because he really wants to, but more because he's curious as to what my response will be. mostly I tell him that he's all done nursing and gets milk from a cup now. he then goes through a litany of the babies we know who still nurse/used to nurse and then moves on to other topics.
• last week I did the training to be carseat tech. I am a total geek and was very excited about it. 
• we continue to have school issues with the kid. I think I've come to the realization that public school is just not a place where he is going to thrive. and I'm not sure what we're going to do with that. it makes me feel sick every time I think about it.

Today's Lesson: When all the single ladies are calling your 3yo while he's at the dinner table, it is time to set some limits. Like no cell phones at the table. And you need to play a different genre of music more often.

Snow Days

We have had A. Lot. of snow days this year. And, with probably a month until the possibility of snow days subsides, dear lord, we are sick of snow days. Last year we had maybe 2 snow days. This year, we've had 10. Already. I may lose my mind of we have anymore. And *I* am not even the one who stays home with them on the snow days. But I have to deal with 3 stir crazy and/or cranky guys with every one.

Snow Day #1. I had 3 giddy boys. Everyone was excited to see the snow! Not how our patio wasn't even covered and you can still see grass. Yes, this constitutes a snow day here. At least at the beginning of the season.

Snow Day #2. Oh, it's fun to shovel!

Snow Day #3. Yum, snow cream!!

Snow Day #5 (apparently no picture of #4). This kid has way too much energy. Run, kid, run. Snow Day #6 was a repeat of this. Fwiw, he did about a 5k each day. Apparently, as long as he has a movie to watch on the portable DVD player, he'll just keep going and going. Also, this wasn't punishment. He likes to run. 

Snow Day #7. Must. Get. Out.Of. The. House. Go crazy, kid.

Snow Day #8. A proper snow day. Many of the others were for a pitiful amount of snow, or were actually because of the cold, which drives me crazy b/c it wasn't that cold. But that's a rant for another day. Anyway, we got like 4-5in of snow, which is a lot 'round these parts. Enough to make "Buster" here. Almost 2 weeks later, and the bottom tier of Buster is still hanging out in our front yard. Because it keeps snowing. And being really freaking cold.

Snow Day #9: No picture and by this point the children were just lucky to be survive the day.

Snow Day #10: Again, no pics, but somehow everyone was still smiling at the end of the day. And went to bed early. Probably because hubby was out driving all over town keeping them all busy. Which means one of two things. Either, (a) hubby was putting all of their lives in danger because the roads were soooooo dangerous that school was called off. Or (b) the roads were fine and school shouldn't have been called off. I'm honestly not sure which of those is the more irritating possibility. Hell, who am I kidding. B. B is clearly the more irritating option. And the more likely one.

I am so, completely over the snow. And the cold. And winter. Over. It.

Today's Lesson: There totally can be too much of a good thing.

PB&J

So, remember how we asked for experiences for the boys for Christmas, instead of more junk, er... toys. Well, many people came through splendidly. The boys were gifted time with some friends to paint their own ice cream bowls (the kid in particular is super excited about that!), a membership to a local children's garden from their Gram with plans to take them on lots of outings there, a family membership to a nationwide network of science centers, tickets to a Globetrotters game, tickets to a Children's Theater play, and I'm sure a couple of things I can't remember at the moment. 

Also, there were tickets to the local Philharmonic Orchestra's kids' series. It's a 30min concert with kids activities for another half hour. I was in orchestra and played the violin for something like 13 years. So I was particularly excited about this gift! We went this morning. This week's concert was presented by part of the University's drum line. It was so cool. And the boys very much enjoyed it. Perhaps the PB&J sandwiches and cookies as much as the music. But they were fascinated by the music as well.

The boys went and sat right in front, loving the music and the interaction with the musicians. At one point they had their arms wrapped around each other and it was one of the most adorable things I've ever seen. Of course it didn't last long enough for a picture. But, it happened. 

Then, afterwards, there was an instrument "petting zoo". E's favorite was the symbols. The kid was fascinated by the trombone. 

I must admit, my heart sung a little to see E also very interested in the violin. Which was the tiniest, most adorable little violin I've ever seen. With the most adorable violinist to accompany it.

All in all, a lovely morning. Even with the sugar high they left with.

Today's Lesson: Music may tame the wild beast. But I suspect it works better with less chocolate and sugar involved.

Birthdays

The kid's birthday is next Sunday. I can't believe he'll be 8. How did that happen?! (And, yes, I know this is a question all parents ask themselves.) He's going to have a superhero-themed party which is going to be pretty cute, if I do say so myself. I'll try to post pics of all that later. (Maybe. If I remember to take any. Yes, I suck.) But, for today, that's not my focus.

For all 3 of baby E's birthdays, at least some members of his birth family have been present. That, however, has not been the kid's experience. He's never had any of his biological family celebrate with us. Certainly we've invited them (every year we've known how to contact them) but I've never gotten so much as a response from the invitations.

In the last year or two, this difference has really started to dawn on him. And, I think, started to bother him. I told you how excited he was last year to get a Christmas card from his birth family. Well last year, he immediately, upon starting to plan for this birthday, asked whether they were going to come to his party. I promised him we'd invite them (and we did) but cautioned him that they have a lot going on (they do) and might not be able to make it (they didn't). He was disappointed, but in his overwhelming excitement about his birthday, he seemed to have forgotten about it.

Baby E has recently been asking about whose belly so-and-so came out of, starting to make sense of some relationships and the basics of babies. And this seems to have brought back up for the kid thoughts and mentions of his birth family. But they're not the same kind of things he was saying last year. Last year, there was excitement when he talked about them. Hopefulness. This year, it's more "I guess they're not going to come again this year" said in this cynical kind of voice. The desire for them to come is still there. But in a "I'm afraid to get my hopes up kind of way". This voice isn't my kid. I don't like it.

I can tell he still wants them to be around (although it's been over 2 years since we've seen them), but seems to have given up on believing they will be. It's so sad. We so wanted to have an open adoption. But, in essence, it's closed. I mean, I am fb friends with his birth mom, but there's no generally no response there when I've attempted. We've sent cards and invitations. I'm not sure what else to do. I'm afraid to push anymore because I don't want to make things harder for them, or, frankly, to piss them off.

I remember sitting on their living room floor, our first meeting. We talked about open adoption and it was obvious they were hesitant. I assumed their hesitation was because they didn't want the kid to be confused about who his parents are (I mean, that's the reason they gave). We assumed him that he would have 2 sets of parents, neither more "real" than the other, each who loved him, and that we would do our best to help him not be confused. But that, really, we needed their help to do that. It felt like we made headway and they were in agreement (over the several months after he was born). But, for a myriad of reasons we'll likely never know or understand, we're back at the beginning.

And I get that this whole adoption thing has got to be so hard for them. And I know that I've no idea how hard or in what ways. So it's not like I fault them, or am angry with them at all. I'm just sad. Sad for them to not get to see who the kid is turning out to be. Sad for the kid to not have that connection that we want him to have. So very sad for him not to have that connection that he clearly wants for himself.

As another birthday for our sweet boy rolls around, I hope his birth parents know that we love him. And that we love them. And that we're here, whenever they're ready for contact. And I really hope that the kid will be open to that, too, whenever they decide they're ready.

Off I go to invite them for the birthday. Again. Perhaps they'll know at least that we're thinking of them. That he's thinking of them. Because he is. Probably more than any of us realize.

Today's Lesson: All we can do is try. And then others decide what they can handle.

Kindness

So, remember how I told you about how creepy that Elf is what we were going to focus on instead? Well, I am super happy to report that it actually went really well! We did several things, most of which I'm having difficultly remembering at the moment (with everyone being sick, you know, for like a whole month, illness and lack of sleep has made me stupid and forgetful). However, the one I do remember, was making cookies from scratch and taking them to one of the local fire departments. And I probably only remember that because there is photographic evidence. Which I now present to you. Because it's cute.

The firemen were unbelievably kind to my children in return for the cookies we made them (which the kid helped me with, actually, now that I think about it, E helped some, too). They let the boys try on their coats. The coat, btw, was almost as heavy as E.

They let them climb all in and around the truck. Which the boys are still talking about more than a month later. (Lest you think me neglectful, it was about 60 degrees outside and we were headed to gymnastics after this visit, which is why E has on short and leg warmers.)

They also pulled the truck out of the garage, just for the boys, and let them take turns blowing the horn. E loved, I mean LOVED!!!!!!!! it. He insisted on the fireman getting out and letting him sit there himself. Then he closed the door, giving us a thumbs up that he was happy and we were welcome to just leave him there indefinitely. The firemen offered to allow him to stay as their mascot. Until I mentioned that he's still a crappy sleeper. Then they said he can visit.

I was so impressed with these men. I can't emphasize how kind they were to my children, and how much they seemed to enjoy our disruption of their day. 

After we left, we talked about the whole experience. We talked about what it feels like to do something kind for others. How the fireman had in turn done something kind for us. But we especially talked about how in doing kind things for others, we don't expect them to in turn do something kind for us, or even to thank us. We do kind things because it is the right thing to do, because it feels good to do so, and because it is what God expects of us. 

And I was overwhelmingly emotional to discover that my children get it.  They get in their almost 8yo and 3yo hearts that doing things for others blesses us, it blesses others, and it blesses our whole world. 

They also love the fire station and now both want to be firemen. And part of that is because they know firemen help other people. But a lot of it is because of the cool truck. And that's okay, too.

Today's Lesson: It's important to take a moment and be thankful for the little reminders about the things in parenting we do well. Particularly when those little things happen to be the ones are most important to us.

Parenting Beyond

Sometimes all you can do is sit with yourself. And think. Sometimes all you can do is be honest and hold yourself accountable. Specifically, for the things you haven't been doing well. That's where I've been lately.

My kid does not have good parents lately. And by "lately" I mean for the last year. (At least.) Reading this blog post by Hands Free Mama the other day really drove home this point for me. And then, when I re-read this post of mine, well, I just felt awful.  I know that I am sometimes a bully to him. I know that both his parents sometimes bully him. It's simply unacceptable. The parent I've become is not the one my son (either of them) deserves, not the one I want them to have.

The whole birth-5yrs age range is one I'm good at. I totally know how to deal with it. Now, I'm not saying I'm perfect at it, because lord knows I'm not. But, I'm knowledgeable and feel pretty competent even in addressing and overcoming the inevitable bumps in the road.

However, since the kid has surpassed that age range, well, I've been grasping at straws, fumbling along, and overall sucking. Now, it's not like that's a completely new realization for me. But, reading that blog post made me really face that what I've been sucking at has serious and long-term implications for my son and for our relationship. And that was like a punch in the gut. And, hopefully, an impetuses to change.

Unfortunately for the kid, baby E was born just before the kid passed out of the range I'm good at. And, had E not come along at that particular point, I might have managed this all better. But he did. And I didn't. So here we are. Two, almost 3 years later, my poor boy with a crappy momma.

Now, I have my moments, when I'm not so bad, moments when I feel like I've hit the nail on the proverbial parenting head, but I feel like those are few and far between. I don't expect perfection - from either of us ("done is better than perfect" is one of my favorite sayings), but I do want to be able to look back at the end of a week and not think, "aw crap" when I review the parent I've been to him. I find myself often frustrated by, impatient with, and overall pissed off by what I*know* are typical behaviors for his age. We're talking, lying, sneakiness, being inconsiderate of others. (Also, please know, these are not behaviors my kid does all the time; most of the time he is such a good, kind, sweet boy. But, when these behaviors do pop up, well, ugh.)

I think my frustration is mostly because I don't know what to do to address those behaviors. I know all about 123 Magic and we use it with varying degrees of success (it works for stopping a behavior already in progress, but not in preventing those behaviors). I know about behavior charts, but, and I'll be honest here, hubby is not on board with these (in that he lacks the consistency to make them work. Which is an issue in and of itself, I admit). Also, I don't find that they again help in the preventing of the behaviors. Lots of techniques we've used work in redirecting him mid-behavior. Not much works (thus far) in preventing.

I don't know where to start. I feel like there are tons of books, blogs, and other resources for the littles, and for the teens. (Funny enough, those are the ages I feel best at, either end of the spectrum.) But, I can't seem to find anything for this age (the kid is 7, almost 8). Perhaps this is the "easy" age for everyone else and I'm just the oddball.

So, here's where you come in. What are your best (concrete!!!) tips for parenting school-aged kids? What books, what blogs, what resources do you suggest? Throw 'em at me. Please.

I will be a better parent this year. It's my I-don't-make-New-Years-resolutions resolution for 2014. And I need you to help me and to hold me accountable.


Today's Lesson: It can be hard to admit you are wrong. It can be hard to admit you need help. Certainly both are also humbling.

Elf (not) on the Shelf

The kid has been asking for weeks about when our own Elf on the Shelf would be showing up at our house. The answer that screams in my head whenever he asks is, "NEVER will one of those creepy-ass, crazy-eyed things come in my house!!!!!!!!!!!". The one that comes out of my mouth is slightly more child-friendly than that. But the kid hasn't been buying it. Apparently there's one in his classroom at school. And several friends have them. So he assumes everyone has (or should have) one. 

And I was getting sick of finding new (nice) ways to explain why there would be no pointy-eared creeper in our house. So, the following letter was born. And delivered to his just hung up stocking on Friday night.

December 13, 2013

Dear Kid,

I hear you've been asking about whether an Elf will be showing up at your house this year. Your Momma and I chatted about it, and we don’t think you and baby E need an Elf to watch and make sure you’re behaving as you should. We believe you have it in your heart to treat others with kindness and love whether anyone is watching you or not. And, in fact, this is my expectation of you all year round, not just at Christmas time.

However, because this is a time of year we try even more than usual to think about and care for others, I have a few challenges for you. First, your Momma told me that she and Poppa have chosen a couple of families who need some extra love and support this year. I’d like you to help her choose gifts for the families. I bet you and baby E can even come up with something extra to do for them to make their Christmas even more special – because you are creative and loving boys.

Second, I’d like you to think of, and then do, at least 1 or 2 acts of kindness for others before Christmas. Some ideas I have are: baking cookies for firemen, making Christmas cards for neighbors, and offering to help your Gram with something. But I know you will have some great ideas, too. I can’t wait to hear about what you come up with and how it goes!

I can’t wait to hear about the loving things you’re doing for others!

Merry Christmas,

Santa

So, it went over great. He came running in to tell me about the letter Saturday morning, asking to go shopping with me. And he was even (mostly) patient and helpful at the store. He (sort of) helped me wrap them up. But, and what's most exciting to me, he's been brainstorming ideas of things to do for others, and trying to pin us down on when he can do them. We'll be delivering the gifts to the families in the next week, the boys going with us. And the boys and hubby are going to do some acts of kindness the end of this week (as they're off school starting Wednesday). I'll make sure to let you know what the kid decides to do and how it goes.

Today's Lesson: Sometimes we forget to focus on the big picture (the people we want our kids to ultimately be) and get stuck on the small details we find irritating (burping at the dinner table). Also, the only elves welcome in my house are the kind who clean house for free.