Today I taught my son how to play the Memory game. We had a very good time. Of course, the SLP in me was testing skills like short term memory, turn taking, following the rules of the game, and doing a language sample all while being the mommy. What I actually discovered is that my son is a funny little man. He would almost jump up and down every time he made a match--every single time. It was as if the success at making a matching pair of Disney characters was going to change the way we use energy on this planet. Hilarious.
Here are a few clips from today's language sample:
"Hey I got a match mom!"
"Hey you got a match too. Great job mommy."
"This is the most fun mommy. I like this game."
"Hey I got a 'nother match."
"Nope that's not a match."
"Nope that's not one either--oh wait, here it is! I got a match!" (as he cheated and turned over a third and fourth card)
"I hope I get the Cinderella one mom. I just love Cinderella." (How does he know Cinderella? We don't even own a Disney movie other than Nemo and Cars. Should I worry that he likes Cinderella?)
"Hey mom, which Cinderella is that one?" (Apparently all Disney princesses are Cinderella.)
"Mom, we could earn some money and buy some Cinderella movies." (Okay what is the deal with Cinderella??? And he doesn't even get allowance yet. But he does know that Daddy has to earn money so we can stay home and play--at least that's what I tell him.)
"But mom, we could just go to the bank and get some money if you don't have anymore." (I tried to explain that the bank doesn't just give you money. You have to put money in there first. He thought this was not only boring, but unhelpful.)
"This is a match! (Quick look to see if I'm watching him match the wrong pair on purpose) Nah, it isn't. That's silly." (Now repeat 35 times giggling all the way).
"Hey mom, I got a idea. Let's play it again!"
"But I don't want any dinner. I want you to play Matchin' with me."
The best part of this game was that we were simply having fun. It wasn't about winning. We didn't even count who got the most matches. He complimented me every single time I made a match. He was in love with the game and with fun. I consider this a great success. Now if I don't screw it up, maybe just maybe he will always have that much fun playing games.
It's not that I disagree with a competitive spirit. I just wish I had enjoyed playing games more instead of worrying about winning them or looking silly or being sad (or angry) because I wasn't good at them. I'm terrible at sports. I'm utterly uncoordinated. If I had been raised to enjoy the spirit of the game instead of always going for the win, I probably would have tried new sports/games and had a reasonably good time doing it. Perhaps I'm worrying about something that is several years down the road. I just want my son to have a good time. I want him to understand winning and losing and being a good sport. I want him to understand sometimes you get benched and not everyone gets a trophy. I want him to be disappointed sometimes, because we all have to deal with losing. But what I don't want is for him to turn into a bad winner, or a stressed out anxiety prone athlete, or worse yet quit something before he starts because he is afraid.
These days I don't play anything but Scrabble with my husband and the occasional game of Gin Rummy with my dad. Perhaps I will learn to play for fun with my son and his infectious spirit of play. He doesn't even understand the concept of winning yet. His idea of winning is that everybody gets at least one Cinderella match. Beat that!
Wednesday, April 30, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Exercise
Today is a very good day. The sun is out. My son is at school. My baby is breathing better. Tonight is Ladies Night Out and I worked out today. Hmmm. I guess I pumped up some endorphins, because I felt pretty bad about myself this morning. I'm glad I went to work out.
I hate to exercise. Really. I like to walk. I like to swim. But coordinated I am not. Sports oriented I am not. Even dance oriented I am not (although I enjoy it sufficiently to make a fool of myself routinely). But I went to my powerflex class with all the other moms (and retirees) and dang it I feel so much better.
I felt good about my lunch--I even drew of reserves of strength I didn't know I had to refuse the cookie for 99 cents and I did not drive by Ben and Jerry's even though it was close and they're giving out free ice cream today. I'm encouraged that I'm going to look good in that $100 bathing suit I just bought. I better, for $100 bucks I better look like a supermodel. I'll settle for MILF status, but that's another post and I'm over 30 now, I should get over that little hiccup. If my son ever used that word, I'd just die.
Anyway, I hope you're enjoying my "little miss mary sunshine" post today. I really hope you're having a great day too. Gotta go. Now my baby is crying. I just hope my biceps are not too fatigued to carry around my 22 pound chub of love.
I hate to exercise. Really. I like to walk. I like to swim. But coordinated I am not. Sports oriented I am not. Even dance oriented I am not (although I enjoy it sufficiently to make a fool of myself routinely). But I went to my powerflex class with all the other moms (and retirees) and dang it I feel so much better.
I felt good about my lunch--I even drew of reserves of strength I didn't know I had to refuse the cookie for 99 cents and I did not drive by Ben and Jerry's even though it was close and they're giving out free ice cream today. I'm encouraged that I'm going to look good in that $100 bathing suit I just bought. I better, for $100 bucks I better look like a supermodel. I'll settle for MILF status, but that's another post and I'm over 30 now, I should get over that little hiccup. If my son ever used that word, I'd just die.
Anyway, I hope you're enjoying my "little miss mary sunshine" post today. I really hope you're having a great day too. Gotta go. Now my baby is crying. I just hope my biceps are not too fatigued to carry around my 22 pound chub of love.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Lessons I Learned
I just read a funny forward from my friend Melanie. It was about the 11 lessons you need to practice and master before you become parents. I thought it was hilarious. So I thought I would take a stab at making my top 10 list of important lessons to learn. Here goes.
1. Baby weight--9 months on, 19 months off. This is a fairly accurate rule of thumb. Pre-baby weight does not translate into pre-baby shape. There is nothing you can do about this change.
2. Warm towels, cold cabbage leaves, the pump, and nursing pads are all overrated. If you're awesome at breastfeeding, I think it's the best thing you can do. If you hate it, or otherwise are having no maternal feelings about it at all, just stop. You can bond with your baby over a bottle. Life will not end. Your baby will be fine.
3. The dvd player can be your friend. There are tv natzis and then there are couch potatoes. Try to be somewhere in the middle.
4. Stickers do come off most things. It may take a little vinegar and warm water though.
5. You can wash almost any carseat cover. You cannot however get the puke smell out of the seatbelt strap. If you get puke on it, just learn to like the smell and keep the windows rolled down for about a month. You'll get used to it.
6. It is okay to leave your kids with a babysitter. You need a drink, a dance, and a double fudge sundae with nuts and kaluha--weekly.
7. There is sex after having kids. If you really want a gratifying sexual experience, or romance, send the kiddies to grandmas or get a hotel room. Otherwise get comfortable with quickies. Most movies are about 22 minutes long (without commercials). Sometimes you have to choose between sex and a shower.
8. Get up. Eat breakfast with your kids. THEN dress the kids. THEN put them in the car. THEN dress yourself.
9. Spit-up can make interesting geometric designs on your clothes. The patterns have been known to be conversation starters. The smell from the patterns will usually clear an elevator for you.
10. Most children do not go to kindergarten in diapers. You will survive potty training. Until then, give yourself a whole handful of m&ms for each unsuccessful attempt. The chocolate may stem the impulse to unintentionally shame your child. If you gain 10 pounds in this process, revise rule number one by 12 to 18 months.
1. Baby weight--9 months on, 19 months off. This is a fairly accurate rule of thumb. Pre-baby weight does not translate into pre-baby shape. There is nothing you can do about this change.
2. Warm towels, cold cabbage leaves, the pump, and nursing pads are all overrated. If you're awesome at breastfeeding, I think it's the best thing you can do. If you hate it, or otherwise are having no maternal feelings about it at all, just stop. You can bond with your baby over a bottle. Life will not end. Your baby will be fine.
3. The dvd player can be your friend. There are tv natzis and then there are couch potatoes. Try to be somewhere in the middle.
4. Stickers do come off most things. It may take a little vinegar and warm water though.
5. You can wash almost any carseat cover. You cannot however get the puke smell out of the seatbelt strap. If you get puke on it, just learn to like the smell and keep the windows rolled down for about a month. You'll get used to it.
6. It is okay to leave your kids with a babysitter. You need a drink, a dance, and a double fudge sundae with nuts and kaluha--weekly.
7. There is sex after having kids. If you really want a gratifying sexual experience, or romance, send the kiddies to grandmas or get a hotel room. Otherwise get comfortable with quickies. Most movies are about 22 minutes long (without commercials). Sometimes you have to choose between sex and a shower.
8. Get up. Eat breakfast with your kids. THEN dress the kids. THEN put them in the car. THEN dress yourself.
9. Spit-up can make interesting geometric designs on your clothes. The patterns have been known to be conversation starters. The smell from the patterns will usually clear an elevator for you.
10. Most children do not go to kindergarten in diapers. You will survive potty training. Until then, give yourself a whole handful of m&ms for each unsuccessful attempt. The chocolate may stem the impulse to unintentionally shame your child. If you gain 10 pounds in this process, revise rule number one by 12 to 18 months.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Cuddle Fuzz
Most of my close friends know that I don't really like babies. I like babies that are 6+ months old, sleeping through the night, and cheerful. Anything before then is pretty much a blur of sour milk on your nightgown, spit up on your last clean shirt, up all night, endless diaper changing, infant squalling, bottle making, burping, tylenol giving moments. This doesn't mean I don't love my babies. I do so much it hurts a little bit. However, I love so much more the transition to bigger babyhood when life is beginning to have meaning for them.
But my most favorite thing about babies--particularly my babies, is the cuddle fuzz. Both of my boys were born with that super fine, sweet, lighter than air, stick straight up on the top of their head downy fuzzy hair. People used to ask me if I spiked my older son's hair with gel to get it to do that. Nope, he got it honest. My younger son looks alot like Chicken Little without the glasses. There is nothing more precious to me than holding those boys when they were (and are) 6 to 12 months and kissing them on those fuzzy Chicken Little heads. It's my cuddle fuzz.
Now that my oldest has slightly heavier hair--it's still fly away bed head on a daily basis, and he is a little "too big" for cuddling unless he's tired or not feeling well, I can't seem to put my baby down. I want that cuddle fuzz to last forever. Both my boys love to give me hugs and kisses. I cherish the moments when those sweet little arms go around me and squeeze. Those are precious moments too, but no moments will ever be as precious to me as my cuddle fuzz moments with my two baby chicks.
But my most favorite thing about babies--particularly my babies, is the cuddle fuzz. Both of my boys were born with that super fine, sweet, lighter than air, stick straight up on the top of their head downy fuzzy hair. People used to ask me if I spiked my older son's hair with gel to get it to do that. Nope, he got it honest. My younger son looks alot like Chicken Little without the glasses. There is nothing more precious to me than holding those boys when they were (and are) 6 to 12 months and kissing them on those fuzzy Chicken Little heads. It's my cuddle fuzz.
Now that my oldest has slightly heavier hair--it's still fly away bed head on a daily basis, and he is a little "too big" for cuddling unless he's tired or not feeling well, I can't seem to put my baby down. I want that cuddle fuzz to last forever. Both my boys love to give me hugs and kisses. I cherish the moments when those sweet little arms go around me and squeeze. Those are precious moments too, but no moments will ever be as precious to me as my cuddle fuzz moments with my two baby chicks.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Christmas in April?
I wanted to post this email I sent during Christmas week. I still review it periodically to remind myself of how good life can be. With us all down sick again I find remembering this magical night helps me keep perspective! Hope you enjoy the musings of a tired delirious elf who is now a tired delirious something else. The creativity wanes when the sinuses are compromised and the ears are ringing. Anyway, to the memory we go....
Funny how we grown up elves, desperate to be a part of Santa's magic, think it must come from really big boxes full of multiple parts and tiny tiny screws that must be assembled in the dead of night after wrestling a very excited (and very sick) little boy into bed.
We told our oldest son that he must must must go to bed and stay there. Three potty trips and two hours later he finally succumbed to slumber. Every trip to the potty started with, "I was sleeping and I heard Santa's sleigh and I woke up." My husband is now downstairs furiously putting together a tool bench that said "some" assembly required. The pile of nuts and bolts on the floor made me run upstairs. I volunteered cheerfully to be the lookout. I already put together the play kitchen on Saturday. Although I have an affinity for putting things together, I think it only fair for someone else to exercise their following directions skills. My husband gives directions all week, it doesn't hurt him to follow them occasionally.
The baby (also very sick) has so far slept through it all. While I do not expect him to sleep through the night, we did get to watch a movie tonight before turning the "grown up room" (aka, room with the big screen tv in it) into Santa's workshop. The baby, alas, isn't getting near the pile that his older brother is. But his turn will come. Next Christmas we will need a Uhaul to get it all inside I guess. I try to pull back on the reins, but they keep slipping out of my hands.
Ah well, the magic is only for a short time. It's so much fun to be a part of. I have many many beloved memories of Christmas. Many of them about Santa, and many about other things during the Christmas season. The season almost always started Thanksgiving weekend with getting the tree. Followed quickly by the Christmas concert at school, the church Christmas pageant, and various and sundry other holiday things. My four high school Christmases are probably the most special for me. Then I had a ten year spell there where Christmas lost its luster for a while (watching your parents fall apart on Christmas Eve will do that). Then last year, our older son was finally big enough for Santa to have meaning.
This year is even more special. The magic has been rekindled for me and not just because of Santa. We're home together, the four of us, with no where to go, and nothing to do but be together. I am sad that the boys are sick, but it forced us to stay home. We made dinner and ate off my Christmas china that's been in the cabinet for 3 years and spent it's previous life traveling in a box. We lit glitter candles and turned on The Time Life Christmas Carol collection on the cd player. My son and I made cookies for Santa. The baby went to bed. My husband and I cuddled on the couch--me in my new bathrobe, he in his new slippers. Seriously, who would believe a bathrobe and slippers could bring new meaning to Christmas? Kinda like that year I got that toaster I really wanted. I was so excited to make breakfast that morning. Yes, I'm weird. I have a thing about useful gifts.
Anyway, this season has been fun and sweet. My son and I opened a door on the Advent calendar every day. I've had so many teachable moments this Advent--and not just for him. Every day that I had to explain to my son that we have to wait, I was explaining it to myself again too. It's funny how those lessons can be like a mirror if you let them. He has prayed for toys, I've prayed for peace. And this year I found it. We can all have teachable hearts if we just get out of our own way.
Shalom, Namaste, Peace be with you
Funny how we grown up elves, desperate to be a part of Santa's magic, think it must come from really big boxes full of multiple parts and tiny tiny screws that must be assembled in the dead of night after wrestling a very excited (and very sick) little boy into bed.
We told our oldest son that he must must must go to bed and stay there. Three potty trips and two hours later he finally succumbed to slumber. Every trip to the potty started with, "I was sleeping and I heard Santa's sleigh and I woke up." My husband is now downstairs furiously putting together a tool bench that said "some" assembly required. The pile of nuts and bolts on the floor made me run upstairs. I volunteered cheerfully to be the lookout. I already put together the play kitchen on Saturday. Although I have an affinity for putting things together, I think it only fair for someone else to exercise their following directions skills. My husband gives directions all week, it doesn't hurt him to follow them occasionally.
The baby (also very sick) has so far slept through it all. While I do not expect him to sleep through the night, we did get to watch a movie tonight before turning the "grown up room" (aka, room with the big screen tv in it) into Santa's workshop. The baby, alas, isn't getting near the pile that his older brother is. But his turn will come. Next Christmas we will need a Uhaul to get it all inside I guess. I try to pull back on the reins, but they keep slipping out of my hands.
Ah well, the magic is only for a short time. It's so much fun to be a part of. I have many many beloved memories of Christmas. Many of them about Santa, and many about other things during the Christmas season. The season almost always started Thanksgiving weekend with getting the tree. Followed quickly by the Christmas concert at school, the church Christmas pageant, and various and sundry other holiday things. My four high school Christmases are probably the most special for me. Then I had a ten year spell there where Christmas lost its luster for a while (watching your parents fall apart on Christmas Eve will do that). Then last year, our older son was finally big enough for Santa to have meaning.
This year is even more special. The magic has been rekindled for me and not just because of Santa. We're home together, the four of us, with no where to go, and nothing to do but be together. I am sad that the boys are sick, but it forced us to stay home. We made dinner and ate off my Christmas china that's been in the cabinet for 3 years and spent it's previous life traveling in a box. We lit glitter candles and turned on The Time Life Christmas Carol collection on the cd player. My son and I made cookies for Santa. The baby went to bed. My husband and I cuddled on the couch--me in my new bathrobe, he in his new slippers. Seriously, who would believe a bathrobe and slippers could bring new meaning to Christmas? Kinda like that year I got that toaster I really wanted. I was so excited to make breakfast that morning. Yes, I'm weird. I have a thing about useful gifts.
Anyway, this season has been fun and sweet. My son and I opened a door on the Advent calendar every day. I've had so many teachable moments this Advent--and not just for him. Every day that I had to explain to my son that we have to wait, I was explaining it to myself again too. It's funny how those lessons can be like a mirror if you let them. He has prayed for toys, I've prayed for peace. And this year I found it. We can all have teachable hearts if we just get out of our own way.
Shalom, Namaste, Peace be with you
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Affirmation is Important
Today I hosted the final session of my Bible study at my home. We shared a Moravian love feast and put some closure to our spiritual journey (at least until the fall when we start again). One of our questions today was, how has this small group changed you or enabled you to further your spiritual journey? How have you been fed and nurtured by this group? One of my dear friends (who is also in this group) said, "being in a group that affirms me and lifts up my life and my choices is so inspiring. Being with this group of women (who range from 28 to 82) helps me to realize that I will survive this point (mother of two toddlers) in my life."
I was struck by her comments on multiple levels. Receiving perspective and support from other women who have been there is so critical. Learning that new stages fraught with their own challenges lie ahead is also critical. It is so easy to get caught up in the fray when you're living in the moment with your children. One day we will be empty nesting moms. One day we will care for our own aging mothers. One day we will find our own health failing. One day we will watch our spouses die. It's not all snotty noses and sippy cups. There is life after laundry.
Being a woman is complicated in so many ways. We are so often called to give of ourselves we forget to take care of ourselves. One of the best ways to take care of ourselves is to form a small group. A close circle. A set of women whom we can call whenever for whatever reason. I have several of these circles and each group serves a different purpose. I do however draw an amazing amount of spiritual strength and comfort from my Bible study group that I do not find elsewhere. I am challenged by these women to get out of my comfort zone. I am comforted by these women when life throws me a curve ball. I am uplifted and spiritually fed by these women who pray for me and share with me their own faith journeys. One of the greatest challenges and greatest joys of being a Christian is the call to "be in community" with each other. When you have a community to give to, joy seems to bubble up from within. When you need to rest in the arms of that community, gratefulness such as you have never felt pours out from all over. I encourage you to find a small group who affirms your worth, your will, and your place in community.
I was struck by her comments on multiple levels. Receiving perspective and support from other women who have been there is so critical. Learning that new stages fraught with their own challenges lie ahead is also critical. It is so easy to get caught up in the fray when you're living in the moment with your children. One day we will be empty nesting moms. One day we will care for our own aging mothers. One day we will find our own health failing. One day we will watch our spouses die. It's not all snotty noses and sippy cups. There is life after laundry.
Being a woman is complicated in so many ways. We are so often called to give of ourselves we forget to take care of ourselves. One of the best ways to take care of ourselves is to form a small group. A close circle. A set of women whom we can call whenever for whatever reason. I have several of these circles and each group serves a different purpose. I do however draw an amazing amount of spiritual strength and comfort from my Bible study group that I do not find elsewhere. I am challenged by these women to get out of my comfort zone. I am comforted by these women when life throws me a curve ball. I am uplifted and spiritually fed by these women who pray for me and share with me their own faith journeys. One of the greatest challenges and greatest joys of being a Christian is the call to "be in community" with each other. When you have a community to give to, joy seems to bubble up from within. When you need to rest in the arms of that community, gratefulness such as you have never felt pours out from all over. I encourage you to find a small group who affirms your worth, your will, and your place in community.
Monday, April 21, 2008
How I Feel About My Job
You know my tenth college reunion is upon me. I am excited about reconnecting with old friends and meeting spouses and seeing pictures of children and kissing a few babies. If I am totally honest, I'm also a little apprehensive. I mean it's been ten years and what do I have to show for it? I'm a stay at home mom with machine washable labels on my clothes, an unused Master's degree that I'm still paying for, dishpan hands, and a few wrinkles.
I was fortunate to meet my husband in college. We married young and more or less grew up together during our twenties. After a year chasing a corporate ideal that was never going to happen, I cheerfully got married, and not so cheerfully started traveling with him to pursue his career. They say the early years are the sweetest. Maybe so in some ways. We were young and in love. But I was miserable taking a bunch of dead end jobs and I felt left out of the whole "what are doing with your life" race. So, with my husband's full support I went back to graduate school.
I loved becoming a speech-language pathologist. I finished my degree and was ready to embark on my new found career--and had to move again! This time we moved to a city that has the number one university program for speech-language pathology in the country. A state that turns out over 150 graduates in speech path a year. Needless to say the job market was saturated. Again I was disappointed. But then something else amazing happened. I got pregnant. Daycare was exorbitantly expensive and I had no family to fall back on at the time. Without a secured job it was foolish to even think of working. So I stayed home that first year. Again I was delayed in my future career. I don't regret that decision though. I learned so much about life. I think my son and I will be the better for it someday.
When we finally moved to the place we call home, I started my career. Putting my one year old in day care was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. But it was the right decision. I had to complete my clinical work or face starting all over again from scratch. I became pregnant again about 5 months before I finished my hours. Doggedly I finished the hours and am the proud owner of a Certificate of Clinical Competency in Speech-Language Pathology. It looks nice on my wall. I haven't signed the first document as CCC-SLP, but I'm hopeful it will happen.
Currently, I am a stay at home mom. I do crave working, but I know that being at home in this moment is the right choice for now. I hope to go back to work again, but I have all I can say grace over at home.
So when people ask me what I'm doing at this reunion, I'm going to say I'm an engineer in child growth and development. Many will laugh and ask to see my kids' pictures. Some will not get the joke. Others will think, oh what a waste. It's okay. I've been in all of those moments before. Right now, I'm changing the world one diaper at a time. During the writing of this blog I have wiped a bottom, wiped a nose, consoled a baby, played trains, and have been invited to play in the play tent (a coveted invitation) after I finish my "work on the computer". It's not glamorous. It's not always that much fun. But my boys are gifts that keep on giving. I can't imagine my life without my them. I have high hopes of returning to my career, but I'm not going to quit my day job.
I was fortunate to meet my husband in college. We married young and more or less grew up together during our twenties. After a year chasing a corporate ideal that was never going to happen, I cheerfully got married, and not so cheerfully started traveling with him to pursue his career. They say the early years are the sweetest. Maybe so in some ways. We were young and in love. But I was miserable taking a bunch of dead end jobs and I felt left out of the whole "what are doing with your life" race. So, with my husband's full support I went back to graduate school.
I loved becoming a speech-language pathologist. I finished my degree and was ready to embark on my new found career--and had to move again! This time we moved to a city that has the number one university program for speech-language pathology in the country. A state that turns out over 150 graduates in speech path a year. Needless to say the job market was saturated. Again I was disappointed. But then something else amazing happened. I got pregnant. Daycare was exorbitantly expensive and I had no family to fall back on at the time. Without a secured job it was foolish to even think of working. So I stayed home that first year. Again I was delayed in my future career. I don't regret that decision though. I learned so much about life. I think my son and I will be the better for it someday.
When we finally moved to the place we call home, I started my career. Putting my one year old in day care was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. But it was the right decision. I had to complete my clinical work or face starting all over again from scratch. I became pregnant again about 5 months before I finished my hours. Doggedly I finished the hours and am the proud owner of a Certificate of Clinical Competency in Speech-Language Pathology. It looks nice on my wall. I haven't signed the first document as CCC-SLP, but I'm hopeful it will happen.
Currently, I am a stay at home mom. I do crave working, but I know that being at home in this moment is the right choice for now. I hope to go back to work again, but I have all I can say grace over at home.
So when people ask me what I'm doing at this reunion, I'm going to say I'm an engineer in child growth and development. Many will laugh and ask to see my kids' pictures. Some will not get the joke. Others will think, oh what a waste. It's okay. I've been in all of those moments before. Right now, I'm changing the world one diaper at a time. During the writing of this blog I have wiped a bottom, wiped a nose, consoled a baby, played trains, and have been invited to play in the play tent (a coveted invitation) after I finish my "work on the computer". It's not glamorous. It's not always that much fun. But my boys are gifts that keep on giving. I can't imagine my life without my them. I have high hopes of returning to my career, but I'm not going to quit my day job.
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