Thursday, May 28, 2015

Q&A with H&B

A little unprompting Q&A with the kids to see what they really think of me. This was interesting...

H, age 5.


1.)    What is something that Mom always says to you? Don’t eat candy without eating nutritious food.

2.)    What makes Mom happy? Having a hug.

3.)    What makes Mom sad? When I don’t do good things for you.

4.)    How does your mom make you laugh? When you say funny things to me.

5.)    What was your mom like as a child? Going to school.

6.)    How old is your mom? 17.

7.)    How tall is your mom? 17 inches.

8.)    What does your mom do when you’re not around? Go to the grocery store.

9.)    If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? For a show.

10.)What is your mom’s favorite thing to do? Watch General Hospital.

11.)What is your mom really good at? Writing letters.

12.)What is your mom not very good at? Ice skating.

13.)What does your mom do for a job? Help babies. And give momma’s diapers for babies with Heiny Helpers.

14.)What is your mom’s favorite food? Everything.

15.)What makes you proud of your mom? When you can whistle.

16.)If your mom was a character, who would she be? Um, this is really strange. But Belle.

17.)What do you and your mom do together? Eat lunch.

18.)How are you and your mom the same? We both have brown hair.

19.)How are you and your mom different? Um…um…I just can’t think of anything. You’re bigger than me.

20.)How do you know your mom loves you? You say “I love you” 117 times a day.

21.)What does your mom like most about your dad?  That he’s handsome.

22.)Where is your mom’s favorite place to go? Alabama.

23.)How old was your mom when you were born? 60.
 
 
B, age 3
 
1.)    What is something that Mom always says to you? Naughty stuff like “no.”
2.)    What makes Mom happy? Say kind things.
3.)    What makes Mom sad? Does bad stuff.
4.)    How does your mom make you laugh? Does funny stuff.
5.)    What was your mom like as a child? Playing games.
6.)    How old is your mom? 15
7.)    How tall is your mom? 70 inches.
8.)    What does your mom do when your not around? Go somewhere.
9.)    If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for? For walking somewhere.
10.)What is your mom’s favorite thing to do? Play!
11.)What is your mom really good at? Reading books!
12.)What is your mom not very good at? Ice skating.
13.)What does your mom do for a job? Practice.
14.)What is your mom’s favorite food? Spicy stuff.
15.)What makes you proud of your mom? Giving hugs and kisses.
16.)If your mom was a character, who would she be? Junie B. Jones.
17.)What do you and your mom do together? Play games.
18.)How are you and your mom the same? Because we are always growing hair.
19.)How are you and your mom different? We have different kinds of shirts.
20.)How do you know your mom loves you? Because I think it and it’s in my brain.
21.)What does your mom like most about your dad? Because you love him.
22.)Where is your mom’s favorite place to go?  To the zoo!
23.)How old was your mom when you were born? 16.
 

 
 

Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Trusting H to make the big decisions

I expected tears.  A little bit of sadness at the very least when I crossed the threshold of my sweet girl's kindergarten classroom. But there was none.

Not from me. Not from her.

Unlike most other days when I came to pick her up, she didn't linger in the room to check out one more thing on one of the busy tables; she didn't ask to spend a few more minutes with friends.

Instead she took my hand into hers, and I immediately noticed the shift; it is usually me who takes her tiny hand into mine. But here she was, strong and powerful and full of so much confidence.

"Ready?" I asked.

She smiled and chirped, "Ready!"

We wrangled her little brother and headed out into the lovely sun. As she buckled herself into her carseat she beamed at me, "I'm all done, Momma! No more school!"

"No more school," I murmured back.

H requested to go to school last year. J and I were both slightly apprehensive because it wasn't really a part of our plan, and our #1 choice school was simply out of our budget. But H insisted, and we've always trusted her.

I've been told by numerous people that we give such a tiny girl so much power over herself. We let her make the big decisions that "children shouldn't be allowed to make." Maybe so. But we feel confident that this is the right choice for our children.

When H was learning to back float last summer she was a bit apprehensive of sinking. She had it down, but was still lacking the complete confidence that she was an absolute rock star. She shook her head at me when I tried coaxing her to try again.

"H," I had said to her, "Do you trust me?"

She stared at me hard with those large, wise, know-all eyes that are beautiful windows straight into her timeless soul, and nodded her head.

I held my hand out of her and she took it. As she floated on her back, my hand barely holding her there, she sputtered at me, "Do you trust me?"

"Always," I replied.

"Let go!"

And I did.

And she floated.

When she asked to attend kindergarten, we made it happen. J and I were her biggest allies and most enthusiastic supporters. We kept any thoughts or opinions that maybe didn't fully line up with school to ourselves and we rallied her on throughout her quest.

But I won't lie. When the time came to enroll her into school for next year, and I mentioned it to her, I wasn't an ounce disappointed when she said, "I'm all done, Momma. I'm doing kindergarten. But that's it. I just want to be home with you for now."

When it is her choice, there is no sadness when things end. She is so fully confident. She accomplished what she'd set out to do, and now it's time to move on. Her assuredness in herself is amazing. She always looks forward to the next task, the next goal, the next adventure. And she will complete and conquer them each time. There is no "try" in H speak. Because H always succeeds. Always.

I trust her so unconditionally that it surprises me at times. We are taught that children aren't to be trusted. That they're not capable of making the big decisions. We were taught that when we ourselves were untrustworthy children.

But fortunately we do trust her. So completely. Because look at her. At that sweet, amazing girl. I'd like to take credit for all she's accomplished and become in five short years thus far, but that would be selfish. Sure, I've been there to guide and support, but ultimately, it's all her.

I don't know what the future will hold for her. I couldn't even begin to try and fathom it. For now, she says no more school. And for now, that's what we shall do.

But like all things, we will let her lead the path of her own life while we simply encourage and guide her. And trust her. Always, always trust her. Wherever it may lead.

Thursday, May 14, 2015

Heartbeat Song

This is my heartbeat song and I'm gonna play it...
 






 Note to self: Buy Raggedy Anne some new shoes. Yikes!









Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Monday, May 11, 2015

I don't love Mother's Day

Mother's Day has come and gone. Hoorah. Or not. Depending on who you are, I suppose.

I'm one of those people who feel pretty indifferent about the "holiday" - though I lean toward against it.

It's such a commercial, Hallmark holiday. I know, I know. It originated back during the Roman times or something outrageously long ago like that, so it's not really a Hallmark holiday, but let's all just be honest. It's just as Hallmark as Valentine's Day (which also has a long dated history and has been extremely commercialized, but I digress...).

It's no secret I love motherhood. There is seriously nothing else I'd rather be doing every single day, all day. It's my calling, my passion, my "thing," whatever word you'd like to use to define it. I mean, I was the kid who genuinely didn't feel called to any passion or career and then I had a kid myself and it all clicked. It all made sense to me. This is it. What I want. Who I am.

People still ask me frequently what I'm "going to do when I grow up" despite me being pretty clear that this is pretty much it. I'm just Momma. I have zero desire to work outside of the home right now. I can't say what the future will hold for me, because things change and I get that, but for the foreseeable future, this is it. Maybe someday I will rally for peaceful and non-punitive parenting. Maybe I will be involved in someday making spanking in the US illegal (that would be the day!). Who knows. But for now, I wouldn't change a second of how I spent my time (okay....maybe slightly more uninterrupted sleep!).

So a day in which most mother's either happily get lavished with gifts and cuisine or end up begrudgingly doing the day to day grind of motherhood just isn't my thing. Sure, it's a nice idea to "celebrate mothers" but it's also so much more complicated than that. So much more. (Insert 40 page essay here about the different women we view as "mothers" in our life, the loss of mothers, mothers who are childless, etc., etc.)

Most of my friends yesterday were either sharing gorgeous photos and lovely little essays or snippets about how freaking wonderful motherhood is (and I wholeheartedly agree pretty much every day; I'm not really a "put on a happy face for just one special day" kinda gal), or they were upset that their spouse didn't let them sleep in or they didn't get x gifts, yadda yadda yadda. And I get it. I really do.

I have zero expectations about Mother's Day, but I have always had big expectations for my birthday ever since I was a little kid. (It was always an epic let down if you want to know). Fortunately, I was able to transfer that need of a celebration of me to my children, and their birthdays are much more important to me now than my own has ever been.

But I digress. Again.

It's freaking awesome to sleep in. To have breakfast in bed. Maybe to get a spa day or a special luncheon. Flowers. Whatever it is that make you tick. But I don't want/need those things on one certain day of the year. In fact, if they came on Mother's Day because Hallmark told my husband and children to do it then, I'd be a little pissed because there is zero thought that goes into that really. My husband and children step up to the plate daily, making my life beautiful and making me feel cherished. My husband regularly makes me breakfast and lets me sleep in. He and the kids pick up flowers when they're grocery shopping. They run errands without me so I can enjoy some time alone. They fend for themselves - happily - so I can grab dinner with friends. I could go on and on. But the point is, they make me feel loved and truly appreciated every day. Not just on one designated day.

But you know what? Some days just don't live up to expectation. Some mornings I really want to sleep in because I was up six times with H in the middle of the night, but B wakes up at 5am and although J tries to get up with him, B just isn't having anyone but me, so I'm the one up and awake while J sleeps in.

Some days I'm exhausted and a little spent and don't want to have to grab groceries and run errands with both kids in tow but J is on travel so it just isn't even a choice. Or I want to get an hour to myself and I just can't. And that's just part of life.

I won't feel extra loved if the better days happen to fall on Mother's Day and I won't feel less appreciated if Mother's Day happens to be one of our more challenging days. It just doesn't even make a difference. Every day is a celebration of being parents and children and having a lovely family. Who cares what day the calendar proclaims it to be?

So no, I don't love Mother's Day. Not because it's disappointing or a let down, but because I view every day as Mother's Day, and I dislike designating one day to celebrate and cherish something so beautiful that really should be honored daily. And not just for moms, but for dads too. Whole families.

Yes, Moms are great. Yes, we should tell them we love them and appreciate them. Of course.

But do it on a day that you're not "told" to do so. It means a lot more.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

No, it's actually not okay to yell at your kids

I've had this post sitting in my head for a few weeks now.

It seems there are a lot of articles floating around the world wide web at the moment declaring it's okay to yell at our children because "we are human and make mistakes and that's okay for kids to witness" and "children need to learn that even adults have big emotions."

I actually agree with both of those statements; just not that they are justifications for yelling at our children (or anyone for that matter).

Yes, we are all human beings. And we make mistakes. Daily. And yes, our children need to see us as real, authentic people so that they too can accept themselves completely as authentic people who will make so many mistakes they'll never be able to count them all. And they need to be okay with that, and accept that, just like parents should. There is no time or place to hold onto guilt and to scrutinize ourselves over every mistake we make or have made, and it's imperative that we also teach ourselves that.

But it also doesn't give us a justification for yelling at our children.

I get mad. I get angry. I get straight up pissed off some days.

And 99% of the time I don't yell.

It doesn't mean I'm bottling it all inside. It doesn't mean I don't know how to handle my anger or frustration.

In fact, it's the opposite. I've worked really hard to find ways to handle my upsets in manners that are not only healthy for myself, but also for my children.

It's no secret that I was a born yeller; the progeny of yellers who grew up with yellers. So it was no surprise that as a mother I was also a yeller.

And it wasn't until my sweet, wee girl told me that it scared her that I even stopped to reflect on what I was doing. Yes, hearing others yell still made me sick to my stomach. Yes, I felt horrible doing it. But I also just thought it was part of life and part of parenting.

There aren't many things in life I'd like a re-do on. But with yelling, I would. Just to erase all the yelling I did before I realized how damaging it really was. How unhealthy it is.

And I was never and am not the sort of yeller who just went on and on. I didn't yell unkind words or obscenities. It was usually when I'd made a request several times and was exasperated. Like, "Put your shoes on!" or "Enough! Don't touch your brother!" It was all that frustration boiling up and it seemed to be the only way to get H to listen sometimes.

When I first made a vow to myself that I wouldn't yell like that anymore, I was certain H would never listen again. I mean, I had to yell to make her know I was serious, right? Wrong. There is nothing that says "Mommy is serious" more than getting right down on their level, physically with them, and helping them with what you want/expect.

Her shoes need to be on and she hasn't done it despite that I've requested 50 million times and we are all ready late. Okay. I put our bag down. I put the baby down. I grab her shoes, and I physically help put them on her. Calmly. Gently. We're late anyway. The extra 30 seconds of me physically helping isn't going to make a difference in time, but it will make all the difference in teaching her how we treat other human beings. Even the ones we are frustrated with. Most especially the ones we are frustrated with.

Or she won't stop touching her brother (or whatever), after being told it's not okay? Again, what's more serious than me - gently - stopping her hand and looking her in the eye and telling her, "I will not let you poke your brother."

And I get it. I really, truly do. We all have days where we are frazzled and falling apart at the seams. I get it.

But the truth is, I would never yell at my husband. Ever. In his words, "The big things we made sure we were on the same page before we got married, and the little things are just little - not worth arguing over, much less yelling over." When I was a member of the work force, I would have never yelled at my employer or co-workers. I wouldn't yell at my friends. I wouldn't yell at any adult human being.

So why do we think it's acceptable to yell at children? Why do we find justifications for it? Because it's not. It's not okay to yell at our kids. Maybe in a very dangerous situation. But not over shoes or late homework or a messy bedroom or annoying their sister. It's just not.

Don't get me wrong. I do get frustrated and mad. I've even had moments where I felt like my blood must literally be boiling and had no idea how two tiny people whom I love so wholly and unconditionally could make me feel such negative feelings.

But I don't typically yell at my kids when I have these feelings. I don't pretend that my upset feelings don't exist in order to raise them in an ever-happy bubble either.

I will be the first person to announce, "I'm really frustrated/upset/mad right now." And even, "I'm really frustrated with you." I have zero qualms telling my children my less-than rosy emotions. But instead of taking out those feelings on my kids by yelling, I try my dandiest to model how I want them to handle those exact same feelings when they're experiencing them.

Ideally, being able to walk away from the situation is usually my first choice. Just a few minutes to calm down and regain my composure before we address whatever the issue may be. To think about the situation objectively and in the grand scheme of things to realize how trivial it actually is in most situations. Obviously, this isn't always a possibility. And in those times I close my eyes and take deep breaths and I remind myself in those ten seconds of the things I love best about my kids. I think about the first time I laid eyes on them, how peaceful they look when they sleep, something funny they've said recently, etc.

After all, "When I get mad and want to roar - I take a deep breath and count to four." That Daniel Tiger is a genius. And he knows how to handle his anger. And my sweet babes sing that song a lot. So if a little tiger knows that it's not okay to yell; we big humans should be able to figure it out, too.

Showing my kids how I handle my big, upset emotions helps teach them how to handle theirs. No, we don't bottle them inside. That isn't healthy. But we don't yell at people either. I find it completely unacceptable for anyone to yell at me. So why in the world would I think it acceptable for myself to yell at anyone? That is terrible logic.

So, I make mistakes daily. We all do. Yelling isn't one I indulge in often anymore, but it admittedly does happen on rare occasions. Old habits die hard and all that jazz. I don't beat myself up over my mistakes. I don't harbor guilt if I slip up and yell or speak a little too curtly or a million other things that the beautiful imperfect person that is me still messes up with on occasion. Or sometimes frequently, it just depends on the vice.

But I will also never justify yelling at my kids (or anyone else) or try to pat someone else on the back and say it's okay. Because it's not. It's just not.

Once we stop trying to justify the yelling, that's when we can start to correct the behavior and find different (healthier? better?) ways to handle those situations. And if you're in a situation where you just feel like you need to yell - go do it in a pillow in another room. Let it out. Just don't direct it at your kid.

We all want to raise kids who deal with their emotions in a healthy manner. But yelling at people because we hurt is not healthy. It's hurting others because we hurt. And that's an awful cycle.

We know a lot about physical abuse these days. And verbal abuse. What about emotional abuse? Because yelling hurts the heart. It's scary for the person being yelled at, and it's often scary for the person who is doing the yelling, too. It's a very emotional experience. And not a positive or healthy one for anyone.

Again, I feel the need to reiterate for the millionth time that we are all human. We all make mistakes. Daily. And that's okay. I don't believe in beating yourself up or harboring guilt over any mistakes we may make as parents or human beings.

But I also don't believe in making excuses for or trying to justify said mistakes in order to feel better about ourselves. And that includes yelling.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Oahu

In this season of life we travel. A lot.

Okay, so the entire time J and I have been together we've travelled a lot. But I still do recognize that it is simply a season. And it likely will not last forever.

There are so many pros and cons to it that I'm not sure, if forced to choose, I'd rather the life in which we aren't gone so much, or the one where we are.

For every trip the kids and I take, J takes five more. At least. Probably more. And since we all actually like him, that's not our first choice, obviously. But since he's on the road so frequently, he acquires miles like a bandit, which allow us to go places with him that we otherwise would never be able to afford to go because plane tickets are a killer - like going to Oahu.

But us being gone a lot makes things a little chaotic and discombobulated. H is such an active little extrovert and is insistent on participating in activities. But that means she also misses a lot, too.

It's also another huge factor in educating them. They've missed over 6 weeks of school this year - they cannot do that in "real" school. And the kiddos need to be with their papa. Sometimes, even if it isn't some place "fun," they just need to be with him. Because he's their papa and they're his babies and that's just how it works.

But there are so many perks to travelling. All the new places, new people; always learning new things hands-on. I'm not sure the kids would know what to do with themselves if we stayed put for too long.

I know I wouldn't. I'm nomadic at heart. An ever-moving gypsy. Planting roots too deeply in any one place is actually a bit daunting to me. And travelling helps prevent those roots from becoming too deeply seeded.

So when J said he was off to Hawai'i for two weeks, the kids and I were eager to go. Mostly because, well, beach. I'd been to Oahu twice before, and admittedly there are a lot of other places I'd rather go, but I've got water babies and who in the world is going to pass up an opportunity to Oahu (especially when the alternative is Indiana, ha)?

The kids were stoked. They're such awesome little travelers. J flew out a few days before us so it was just the kids and I, our carry-ons, and two car seats making the trek (seriously, if you fly with kids who still are in a 5 point harness seat, it's worth the pain in the ass to take that seat onto the plane with you. Trust me. So worth it. Not mention safer, but that's for another day. It's just genuinely an easier flight when they're in their car seats).

In Oahy, they got to go on several hikes. B was so proud of himself for hiking up one 570 foot mountain all by himself. H perfected her back float. They both couldn't get enough of the ocean. Or the pool. They met a sweet little boy who eagerly helped teach them to surf. They were pretty bad-ass, not gonna lie. They snorkeled their little hearts out. They hiked some more up mountains, volcanoes, and waterfalls. They enjoyed the Honolulu Zoo. They held crabs and sea urchins at the Waikiki Aquarium, and learned about sea-cucumbers and other aquatic life by pushing the correct numbers on their audio devices as we walked around the aquarium. They played real-life I Spy in an aquarium full of the some of the world's tiniest sea-life, including itsy bitsy seahorses. They learned how pineapple is grown at the Dole Plantation (and indulged in a dole whip!), and navigated themselves through a giant maze using a map! They made new friends every where they went. They ate their weight in fish tacos (and maybe J and I did too!). They chased feral chickens and swung on tree vines and stood their ground in some pretty fierce wind on a mountain top. They had so, so much fun. And my heart only swelled a little bigger watching them in all the wonders, always in awe that I could possibly love these tiny people and their papa more than I did the day before. But I will end this now before it becomes a mushy love story about my stellar family and leave you with a bazillion photos of these great people!

Never mind it was past 1am their time; they insisted on playing on the beach our first night there. And were absolute soaked by the end of it. It was lovely! 
 



 Sometimes, you just need a papa to give your tired tiny legs a break.
 






 He braved the dole whip, even though it was outside his chocolate ice cream comfort zone. And he loved it!
 

 
 They had a pamphlet of the different birds found in Oahu and were diligently searching for them all.
 










 B's "stop taking pictures all ready" face, and Miss H trying to smile but definitely not into it, ha.
 


 A coffee farm? With free coffee tastings? This might just be better than a winery!
 
Some pretty serious wind at the top of the Pali.
 
 



 
 Totally stoked to find some brightly colored popsicles that were made with natural dye!