No, David!

Last week while we were at Barnes and Noble B picked up the book titled "No, David!" and asked me to read it to him.

I love reading to both of my children, but unlike H, B wasn't into being read to until he was well over two, so I sort of relish that precious time with him because I once worried he wouldn't enjoy being read to or reading. Ever.

If you have small children, or have ever simply browsed the children's section of a book store or library you've probably come across the book "No, David!" It's actually won some awards or something.

Anyway, as soon as we began reading it, my heart kind of sank. It is, as you can imagine, a whole book where David is being told "no." For everything. He's even put in the corner and sent away. It's really sad. Little David even cries. It end with "Yes, David, Mommy loves you" or something like that.

Well, with how sad the whole book is, I'm not sure how poor David is supposed to know his momma loves him. She's always saying no and scolding him.

I really, really worried B was going to find this book to be great because of the mischievous little boy.

So I was really surprised when after the second page he looked up at me with those big brown eyes and said, "This is so sad. Why David's momma not nice?"

I nodded, and instead of getting on my soapbox with my 3 year old, I said, "What's the problem with what is going on?"

B would explain the situation to me on each page from David's perspective, and then tell me what David's momma did that was not nice. And I'd ask him how he thought David's momma should have handled it.

Let me tell you, if ever you question how you parent your children, or wonder if they see you as a big meanie, read this book and have your kids reflect on it. It's very eye opening. Because I so very often think I'm too impatient or quick to frustrate or too strict with my kids. Yet little B sat here and told me just how each situation should be handled: gently, patiently, calmly, with kind words. And after each time he'd explain this to me he'd smile that melt-your-heart-smile at me and say, "Just like you, Momma. You're always nice. Even when you say you're so frustrated. Why doesn't David's mom love him like that?"

Trust me, I wanted to explain to him that David's mom probably truly did love him just as I loved B (this was an "autobiography" book of sorts of the author's), but story time began before I could get that far. Probably much to B's relief, ha.

It seems like any time I ever begin to have a glimmer of doubt about what I'm doing with these sweet babes, how I'm doing it, God snaps me out of it real quick with some good honest preschooler feedback.

I think I will have to keep "No, David!" in my pocket to bring out when I start wondering if I'm veering off track being the type of parent my kids deserve. Because if I ever read that book to them and they think the way David is being treated is acceptable, well, then I will know it's time to stop and shift focus.

Because I want there to be a lot more "yes" in our book. And I want the love to show on every page, not just the last one.

"The Smart Girl"

I had a good friend tell me recently that she was surprised I was "still doing the stay at home mom thing." Truthfully, I was kind of caught off guard, and told her so.

She meant well. She said she didn't mean it negatively, it was just that I was always "the smart girl" - I was going to change the world...instead I was changing diapers.

It kind of stopped me in my tracks. It's not the first time someone has said this to me, but it hasn't happened in at least a year.

I hate that label. "The Smart Girl." Because it's one I feel like I will never truly live up to. Sure, school was easy for me. College was a breeze and I rarely cracked open a book or attended class and still graduated with a double major and honors.

But what does that even mean?

I was thinking about my own school experience after I dropped H off at kindy this morning. H is so obsessed with spelling right now. It's really fun and awesome to see how her mind works and get to be a part of this learning process with her.

It also emphasizes why I cannot send her to school next year to be so bored academically. It wouldn't be fair to her.

I was thinking about the only class I ever truly felt challenged in throughout my entire academic career - university included. And it was my freshman history class after I transferred to a private school. That history class kicked my ass. It was hard.

You know what I remember from that class?

Nada.

Not. One. Single. Thing.

And history is one of my "things." I love it. I get it. But despite that class being ridiculously challenging for me, I don't remember anything from it.

Maybe I'm an oddity, it wouldn't surprise me, but the only things I remember for school or university were the things that truly interested me.

I remember my creative writing classes to a T. My American and European history classes. I even remember my medical biology class (but shh! Science is not my "thing"...I just liked the parasites!). And of course all of my human rights classes in college - I could recite those to you. And my medical ethics class.

But I enjoyed all those. I thought they might some day be applicable to my chosen career as they were my interests.

Anyway, this discombobulation is me trying to sort out my own kiddos and their needs.

And the how much, even silently, I need to stop labeling them. Because H is all ready on a pedestal with the plaque "The Smart Girl" below her and she doesn't even know it.

We certainly don't give B enough credit sometimes, or expect as much out of him. I'm better than J is at not comparing the two kiddos, but still, it is hard. H knew all her letters and sounds at his age. She could write them all on paper. And she was just starting to string sounds together to sound out words. B knows the later "o". Yep, just "o." And he can write it. But that's it. He does not really possess any interest in knowing more, and I'm not pushing it right now.

The thing is, I don't even know what any of this means. I used to think I had it better figured out it in my head, now I'm not as sure. I mean, I still know they need to have the ability to focus on what interests them and more or less do and learn as and what they please.

But regardless of what they learn and know and love, maybe they'll grow up and just not use those amazing brains to change the world. And then what?

Well, then, they'll just be awesome. Like they are now. As long as they're doing what they love.

Maybe they won't change the world, maybe I won't - okay, probably I won't, ha - but maybe they'll change something for the better. Even if it's one tiny thing. And that will be enough. Because regardless of what labels we get stuck with in life, they don't make or break us, and we are enough. They are enough, as is.

Fall Family Photos

I am so, so lucky to have a good friend who is a photographer. She reminds me, nearly daily, that she likely will be moving next year, and it makes me sad.

Sad because she is such an amazing friend, and sad because she takes our pictures!

Right before we left for vacation, she tried to shoot a few fall family photos for us. That fact that she even got one really great family picture, and then several others was quite the feat.

For starters, it was freezing. We were not dressed in preparation for that. At all.

And secondly, way more importantly, H had her eye gouged right before we left (by B's finger...) that we went to the doctor for after the shoot and saw the chunk that was missing from her eye. Good times, let me tell ya. Poor girl. (If you look carefully in the photos, you can tell which little eye is swollen).

Anyway, here's a few of the photos.

"It's not okay": When I messed up and yelled

Anyone who knows me knows I'm not a yeller.

Well, I am by nature but I fight like hell every day to keep that part of me at bay. And it works. Despite it being one of my very greatest challenges, I haven't yelled in well over a year.

Until today.

I was stressed over grown-up things, stuff that obviously had nothing to do with her.

But it didn't protect her from that stress. The stress and frustration that blew up and became a very loud, "Put your shoes on!"

You're probably chuckling, eh? It's such a silly thing to yell about. And probably lots of people have yelled much worse.

I could try and justify it. I'd asked her to put her shoes on 15 times all ready. We were starting to run late. I had lots of errands to do after I dropped her off at school and was on a time crunch.

But what would have really happened? If she had not put her shoes on right that second, what would have happened? She'd have put them on 60 seconds later when she finished her picture? She'd have grabbed them on her way out the door and put them on in the car? I'd have grabbed them on my way out the door and put them on her in the car? We'd have been five minutes late for school?

None of those situations seem dire or life-threatening. None of them deem a 4.5 year old little girl getting yelled at to put her shoes on.

But I did it anyway.

"I'm so sorry," she gushed as she flew to put her shoes on. Her face was filled with remorse and shame and that alone broke my heart. She should never be sorry for my actions or words. That's on me. She should never be ashamed for not being an obedient little robot who jump when commanded.

I was still too frustrated at that moment to even try to make it right. Truthfully, I was too busy justifying that I was right to yell - everyone does it sometimes - to even admit I was wrong in that moment.

It wasn't until hours later after I'd picked her up from school that I knelt in front of her in the kitchen and said, "I'm so sorry I yelled at you this morning."

Those grave, brown saucers of hers looked at me as she held my big ol' hand in her tiny one, and clasped her other hand over top, and said, "It's not okay."

I nodded, slowly.

She was right. It wasn't okay. Sorry didn't make it better or erase that event.

For some kids, maybe this would have been a trivial event in their lives. I grew up in a very loud house, I probably wouldn't have dwelled too much on this, and god knows I would never have told anyone that apologized to me that it wasn't okay. I'm so thankful that H is such a better, stronger person than I have ever been.

"You're right," I told her. "It's not okay. I can't change it or fix it. I can just promise that I am going to try so much harder to never do that again."

She nodded solemnly at me.

"You're the best thing that ever happened to me. You made me a mom. Your mom. And it's my job to do better. Always."

"Always," she whispered and flung her arms around my neck.

I wanted to cry, but I didn't. Not then.

She's only 4.5. And I've no doubt messed up in so many ways. But she knows what is acceptable. She demands to be treated correctly. And I love that. I love knowing that she will never settle for okay, and I like to think I had something to do with that.

Today I yelled, and my daughter told me it wasn't okay. She reminded me of why it's so important that I behave and react as the type of person I want her and B to grow up to be, the type of person I want them to surround themselves with as they get older - it's important that they know that people are human, they make mistakes, but it doesn't make those mistakes okay or admissible.

It's not okay.

And I won't ever try to justify it otherwise.

Aruba, Aruba!

We finally went on a much needed family vacation. It has been too long.

 

The kids were gems on the long flights. I had purchased some clearance out aquadoodles a few months ago which turned out to be the right pick for H. She is really into spelling, so she'd have me tell her a random word and sound it out and spell it. And she's getting pretty damn at spelling!

We were super fortunate that my parents were able to go with us to Aruba. The kids (and J and I, of course!) adore them, and always have a great time with them! J and I would chuckle during the times when my dad and step-mom would have one kid with them, leaving us with only one child, about how easy one kid is. Oh, how quickly that is forgotten. Ha!

Most of our time was spent on the beach or in the pool, or feeding the iguanas. But we did venture around the island and see and so much! We also took the Jolly Pirate out for snorkeling the Antilla and rope swinging off the ship. They were so impressed that H and B even tried to snorkel, let alone were completely successful at doing so. They said they had children come along often, but none as young as them ever attempted to snorkel.

The week went by far too quickly. H was not impressed with cold we met once home. They're both itchin' to go back. And I am too. Though truthfully, I have zero desire to ever fly again, which is surprising. But I'd rather drive any given day than fly. The kids are awesome travelers, but I just have a hard time being surrounded by that many rude people. It gets harder and harder to deal with stupidity the older I get. Alas, for some sun and family fun, I'd do just about anything!

I have over 1500 photos, but don't worry, I'm not going to post that many! But here is a peek at our adventure (and still way too many photos!).

My brave girl swinging off the ship into the ocean!

 

 Ready to snorkel!

 

 Always a ham!

 

 I almost didn't post this because you know, I'm not a tiny person exactly, but then realized if ever my kids read this blog some day I don't want them to think I was even a tiny bit uncomfortable with the amazing body that created them.

 

 This boy was ALWAYS covered in sand. He'd plop right down and do "snow angels"!

 

Oh, how I love him!

My little tiger

Feeding iguanas.

Making sandcastles!

The way B looks at H always melts my heart.

B sharing the sand with Grandpa S.

My beautiful step-mom.

Feeding animals.

Oh, he kills me!

Those two monkeys make my heart so full!

Always the adventurous girl.

He stacked his own good luck rocks. 

I'm still not sure how such a beautiful girl, inside and out, came from J and I.

Water guns are not just for kids!

B took this picture and it cracks me up!!