Overheard #6

Me: You did such a great job sitting at the dinner table last night!

Rowan: Did we get to have poxicles (Popsicles) after dinner?

Me: We sure did, lucky guy.

Rowan: Was it cold? *shivers, remembering*

Me: Yes, they were cold.

Rowan: We should call them poxicolds.

Teaching Your Child the Fine Art of Poetry

Aidan recently asked me if I know how to write poems. I dabbled in it a bit in high school/early college, but it never was my thing. I do remember writing Haikus and enjoying that. I explained the whole 5,7,5 syllable thing to him, and we came up with a few simple ones. Tonight, we wrote two masterpieces:

A leprechaun came.
He peed green in our potty.
It smelled like shamrocks.

I have underwear.
I wear it under my pants.
It is not a hat.

I Made Your Kid Cry Today...or Helping You To Not Raise a Jerkface

I made your kid cry today.

I might do it again.  I do not apologize for my actions.  I am sorry he was sad, but I am not sorry I followed through with my disciplinary action.

Let me explain myself.

Last night I had this dream, probably one of the worst ones of my life.  My little son, Rowan, was coming out of his Occupational Therapy session.  He and the OT walked toward me (well, he trotted, because that's what he does) and there was another woman with them.  I inquired who it was, and the OT informed me that it was the foster mom Rowan would be going home with.  He could no longer live with me.  I woke up, sobbing, my pillow and face wet.  He had climbed into bed with me, and I squooshed him REALLY hard.

What does this have to do with your crying child?

I KNOW that the raw feeling in that dream, that intense love, is a bond I share with all parents.  I KNOW that every parent is hopelessly in love with their child.  They are the cutest, smartest, most clever, etc.   Our common fear is losing them somehow, such a terrible thought to bear.  I sometimes find that it is important to remember that someone loves this child with that intensity in times when my, your, or other children are driving me nuts.  (My trick for remembering:  look at their eyelashes.  I don't know why that works, but it does.  Because, eyelashes.)

You would think that the eyelash/memory of strong love bond business would soften my resolve, but no, it doesn't. I think it toughens it.  Here's the thing that I think so many parents are missing right now:  it is OKAY to say NO.  It is okay to break their spirit once in a while (believe me, it will be back, more quickly than you think.)  It is okay to hold back on giving them everything they ask for.  It is okay if they cry or even get mad at you (gasp!)  I might ruffle a few feathers in the "natural parenting" crowd I mingle with, but   PARENTS:  be the adult!

I helped him by letting him cry today.  I probably helped you too.  You should try it.  Over time, your child might grow up to be:

• Considerate
• One who thinks of others before himself
• Aware of the value of hard work
• Knowing the value of making mistakes, and forgiving others for theirs
• One who does not text under the table at dinner
• Willing to share
• Willing to listen to the ideas of others
• Polite
• A loving, unselfish partner in a relationship
• A coworker who is respected for his integrity
• A person who never cuts anyone off in traffic, or shows road rage.
• Patient
• Someone who doesn't interrupt others while they are talking
• Accountablity

It is BECAUSE of that intense love that we should offer our kids the things they will need to be adults who are not selfish jerks, something as a teacher I am honestly afraid of for the generation I am teaching.  And those things are easy:  No, because I said so, that is not safe, I am talking to an adult right now you may not interrupt, you may come back to dinner when you have settled down, you may come back and play when you've said you're sorry, you're grounded, no treat tonight, I am sorry that all your other friends have that toy but if you want it you will have to earn your own money to buy it, no you don't need a cell phone, your cell phone will be taken away for a week because you were texting at the table/at school after I/your teacher told you to put it away, what is up with these grades, I stand by your teacher, you may not talk to me that way, you screwed up admit it now learn from it.  Boundaries.  Rules.  They don't come naturally to kids, they just don't.  Trust me, I am a teacher.  I know.  And really, does anyone want their child to grow up to be a jerkface?

My little son Rowan is easy to coddle with his own set of special needs and challenges.  It is harder to say no, harder not to go down the easy road.  It is something I struggle with every day, and beat myself up for my shortcomings (source of dream?)  I try to remember that because he has these extra challenges I have all the more reason to establish the boundaries.  He (and we) just have to work harder at it.  I will never let his special needs be his (or my) excuse.  And it will pay off.

One Year

Happy Birthday, Blog!

All right, I know I am a couple of weeks late, but if it makes you feel any better, I am one of the worst people I know about remembering and acknowledging birthdays.

You've seen me through some tough times, blog.  Thanks for that.  It's been so nice to have a place to go to vent creatively and productively.  And at least when I am having a hard time dealing with stuff, I can write something poignant about it.  And then I look back and realize on some level, I was dealing well with stuff, I just wasn't conscious about it.

Anyway, looking forward to another nice year, hopefully with fewer sad posts.  I will try to spend more time with you.

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Updates:

This guy continues to amaze me.  Playing guitar, picking up songs more quickly than you could ever imagine.  Today, at a birthday party, he picked up some weird Finnish string instrument and was tinkering with it.  He stood up and pulled a pick out of his pocket.  I realized he just ALWAYS carries a pick in his pocket.  I don't know why, but that made me SO happy.  What a cool dude.  He has successfully entered what my friend Jane refers to as the anti-hygiene phase.  The other day I walked past his room only to realize he was on day 4-5 of the same underwear.  Gross.  Summer should be fun.  And smelly.  He is starting to get used to the idea of changing schools.  I am not, but will get there.

And I couldn't be more proud of this guy.  Still making great strides.  He is in the throes of the four year old constant question phase, with the recent introduction of "why."  I know it's a great sign and his inquisitiveness is a sign of his intelligence, but holy cow it is exhausting.  But he reminded me today that I need to be patient.  I'd had enough of about 20 minutes of constant questions and said, "Rowan, no more questions for a while, Mommy needs a break."  He replied, "But I want to TALK!"  Sniff, sorry little buddy, carry on with your questions.  The other day he LIED to Lynnie.  She reminded me how wonderfully developmentally appropriate that is.  Plus, we found out he's a really bad liar.  Like his dad. That's good, he'll get away with less later on.  He is still having speech at SRC (love, love love!) and is now seeing an OT and doing a great job there.  It is fun to see him be a little more himself every day.

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Ode

I've wanted to write a post about our Lynnie, Rowan's preschool teacher for a while now, but sometimes you can't find the right words to express such profound gratitude.

Like the gratitude you feel when you are calling around to preschools, explaining your child's "condition" and she is the only one who 1.) knows what it is and 2.) seems genuinely excited about having him.

Or the gratitude you feel when you realize how she sees him:  as the beautiful boy that he is, with gifts of his own and lots of love to give.  NOT as a problem to solve.

Or the gratitude you feel when she observes things in your child you didn't even notice yourself, or at least couldn't put into words.  And how she ever so gently, but firmly at the same time PUSHES him outside his comfort zone. And you watch how she lovingly, respectfully redirects.  You take notes.  You try it at home.  It works.

Or the gratitude you feel when you realize you no longer dread asking the question, "How was his day?"  And the answer doesn't  include reports of him hiding, avoiding the other kids, or sitting on the steps and whimpering all day.

Or just the gratitude of that AWESOME laugh, sense of humor and insight. It has turned this weary teacher's bad day around many times.

No words, really.  But I do have a picture.  It's a photo of the top of Rowan's Sensory Processing Measure for his new Occupational Therapist.  Lynn filled out the school portion.  She could've just filled out "preschool teacher" on the relationship line.  But she didn't.  I glanced at it and an involuntary happy sob escaped from my throat.  Thanks, Lynnie.  We love you too. (Sorry if I made you cry...it's not that hard to do, you know.  And you started it.)

Seize This

Today, I lazily copy this link into this post, not because I am lazy, but because these are my exact thoughts and I couldn't have said it better.

My favorite quote:  " I can't even carpe fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question."

Please read, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Don't Carpe Diem

The Moment We've All Been Waiting For

Life seems normal.

That might sound boring to most people, but it is extraordinary to me and my family.

Normal is what we've been striving for.

I feel like I woke up sometime in the last two months with this weird feeling, like, "Huh...that's weird...I don't feel frantic."

There is no doubt that Rowan has made a HUGE leap since Thanksgiving, on so many levels.  His language has become more conversational and expressive, he shows empathy and caring for others, he not only notices the other kids, but he wants to engage with them and follows along with their play.  He has become the boy we always knew was there: witty, sensitive, imaginative, caring and full of kisses and mischief.  He plays nicely with his brother, and they are totally IN LOVE with each other (or nearly killing each other, like most brothers do.)  Conflicts that do arise sure seem like typical four year old battles: whining, manners, sharing, using a bossy voice.  Lashing out violently, like he did about 9 months ago, isn't even on the radar.  His preschool teacher, Lynnie, said that watching him in the month of December was like "watching a flower bloom."

Sure, I know, as always, that there are still hills to climb ahead.  I know there will regressions and backsliding and all that nonsense, but I can't help but feel that many of the huge hurdles are behind us, and we will never have to leap them again.  We are still seeing the speech pathologist, and signed on for OT starting next month.  We are not checking him out of The Most Awesome Preschool in the World any time soon.  I'm no dummy.  I know why we're here.  It's because this stuff is working!

And so....I welcome you, uninterrupted conversation with my husband, giggles from the boys as they play together in another room.  Hello, visits to restaurants and relatives houses.  Good day to you, grocery store checkout line. Church...., um...ah, well...we'll get there.  Good evening, little boy who is upset with me because he is worried I got shampoo in his brother's eyes.  Good morning, kisses and hugs (oh...the BEST kisses and hugs.)  Hola, play date.  Real play date.  Where my kid plays.  With the other kid.

Blessed be. And Amen.