Little Things: Smile

 

A smile is not always a little thing;  sometimes its the hardest thing to conjure….but it is always the easiest thing to give away.

When I drop my son off at Kindergarten each morning, I park in the parking lot and walk him across the drive.  I could wait in line and throw him let him jump from the car as I glide past the entryway….but this little bit of extra effort makes him happy.  It is less stressful to him (and, frankly, to me) to hold his hand and walk up to the classroom door where I can hug him goodbye and plant one large, embarrassing Mom Kiss on his face as I send him off into the world.

This morning when I was returning to my car, one of the women who very faithfully directs traffic and monitors the parental drop off craziness each and every morning said to me:  “I just love seeing you every morning, you always wear such a great smile”.

Happiness.

Despite my harried mornings, despite my often dragging spirit and the bags under my eyes… I’ve been smiling…and apparently it makes someone else’s day.  THAT is something to smile about.

It’s the little things in life that make the difference….and not always just to ourselves.

 

This photo was taken by my friend Kristen from Dine and Dish during a photo shoot that my other fabulous friend Sandra from Sandra Hale Photography was doing during our (not so) recent get away in November.

What Have You Done Today that Makes You Proud?

I remember reading a parenting book when I was pregnant with SuperBoy and what resonated with me this idea:

As parents, we want to encourage our children, build their self esteem and make them realize that they can take on the world; do whatever they want to do. Consequently, we too often don’t allow them to fail. We also get busy and frequently offer “blanket praise”… a “That’s Great, Honey!”  Kids eventually realize that no matter how far out of the lines they color, we will say “That is amazing and beautiful!” The book went on to teach that not only can you be honest with your kids (gently and with a kind heart, of course) but that when you are praising them, be specific. Make your compliment or praise unique so that they realize it is not that blanket statement: “I really love the way you made the whole picture purple! It reminds me of grapes and those are my favorite fruit.”

I’ve tried very hard to adhere to that idea. To take those few extra seconds to be specific, to truly appreciate what they’ve done rather than spitting out a rote compliment.

Recently in a parenting group I attended at church it was suggested that while sharing with our children how proud we are of them, ultimately their self esteem must come from themselves….they need to be proud of themselves.  (Well, duh.  I hate it when something obvious finally becomes, well, obvious.)

So I readjusted my mindset and made a determined effort to say “You should be really proud that you chose to follow directions and get your room cleaned” … (or other such daydream material).

A few weeks later I had the revelation that while I was headed in the right direction…I was still telling them what to be proud of. The idea of pride in one’s own work was there…. it was however ultimately provided by me.

As being a parent is a very obvious progression and work in progress, I made another adjustment to my “style”.

Now, at the end of each day, I ask my two big kids, “What have you done today that makes you proud?”

I was stunned the first time I asked this question and got blank stares. They didn’t understand what I meant. *deflation of self-proclaimed master parent status*

We talked though what they did in the day and eventually landed on what they were proud of. Now SuperBoy(5) gets it and is starting to provide a quick reply. SuperGirl (3) still has a rough time with the definition of “proud”; she seems to think it means something she likes so I often get the answer “The dessert we had after dinner….”. I’m getting good at redirecting: “You mean that you are proud of yourself for making good decisions so you got to eat some yummy dessert?”

“NO! I mean the dessert!”

Okay.  We’re all learning.

What Have You Done Today that Makes You Proud?

I raised three beautiful children. 

Natural Consequences

Four months into the school year and we are still perfecting working on our morning routine.  We start around 6AM and don’t have to leave to get the kids where they need to go until 8:25.  That is 2.5 hours.  That should be PLENTY of time for a smooth morning.

I really don’t like the kids, especially SuperBoy, to start their day off stressed, or rushed.  I like to park and walk him across the crosswalk at school so that he isn’t subjected to the “Slow Down and Throw Your Kid from the Car” mentality of the drop off lane.  It is with a calm mindset that I want them to start their day.

Some days that works.

Others, when we are ready to walk out the door  SuperGirl, having previously been dressed, shows up with her backpack on…in her birthday suit.

Some days SuperBoy melts down because he has not had enough time to finish playing Legos/Puzzles/iPod.

My all time favorite, however, is when we walk out the door and SuperBaby lays out a four alarm, squishing out the top,  poopy diaper.

I’ve been discussing the idea of natural consequences with them.  Little bits at a time, pointing out what natural consequences are; both in their world and in the adult world.  I’ve prepped SuperGirl’s morning gymnastics instructors for the very distinct possibility that she will show up one day in her underwear (they are on board….giggling all the way).

This morning we had another little talk about it as we were getting ready.  Everyone did a GREAT job today.  Except for me.

I chose to sleep a little longer this morning instead of getting ready straight out of the gate.  As the morning went on I decided to get the dishwasher running and respond to an email from my Mother in Law about Thanksgiving before getting dressed.

And then it was time to go.

The kids were ready.  I contemplated throwing some clothes on while they got in the car and waited for me. I have NEVER dropped off in my pajamas.  Ever. Chances were, though,..this would make us just one minute too late for school.

So I took this as a teaching moment: my natural consequences for the choices I made this morning were that I would have to take SuperBoy to school in my pajamas.  I said “I really hope I don’t have to see anyone today!  I made bad choices with my time this morning”.  I patted myself on the back: the kids didn’t have to know that I planned to go through the drop off lane; our morning had been so calm and pleasant I figured it would be okay this once.

 

We get to school and had missed “the sweet spot”:  that time right before all of the parents arrive en mass trying to get their kids dropped off in time for first bell.  This meant that we very possibly would not be able to get SuperBoy through the line in the 5 minutes before bell.  Doing what was best for my child now meant I was going to have to get out of the car and walk him across the crosswalk.

In my pajamas.

 

 

I sucked it up.  The kids said “Everyone is going to laugh at you!” and followed with monumental laughter (we have not yet reached the stage where I embarrass them with my appearance).

As they halted traffic for us to cross the walk I joked with the teacher in charge: “Today we’re teaching natural consequences!”  She laughed.

SuperBoy hugged me and ran off into the school and I returned, unspotted by most, to my van.  As I slipped into the warmth of my heated leather seats, I saw sitting in my cup holder: SuperBoy’s water bottle.  He had specifically wanted to take a drink with him today.  He had asked about the bottle on the way out the door and I offered to grab it for him.  Rather than handing it to him when I climbed in, I stuck it in my cup holder and promptly forgot.

I was going to have to take it to him.

In his classroom.

I drew a deep breath and grabbed the cup.  I marched it up to the door of SuperBoy’s classroom when another teacher offered to take it in to him.  “Bless You”, I say as I turned and high tailed it back to my car.

Everything’s Gonna Be Alright

SuperBaby:  “Aahh skeered”

SuperGirl: “It’s okay, baby.  I’m here.  I’ll hold your hand, see?  Now you are safe!”

So many times I beat myself up for my shortcomings as a parent… when I hear my kids repeat my less than stellar moments.

I am filled with pride and my heart swells when I hear them repeat the things I really want them to learn, when the caring and compassion I so desperately want to instill in them shines through.

It’s the little things.

At Least it Wasn’t Octopus

SuperBaby had this colossal meltdown tonight over strawberries.  He is a very picky eater… really the first one that is that way.  If he SEES a food he wants he will eat nothing else until he gets it.  SuperBoy had finished his dinner and was eating his strawberries; enter meltdown.

I have a couple of rules when it comes to mealtime at our house, but I’m generally open for negotiations when it comes to quantity of food eaten:

1. Dinner (Breakfast, Lunch, whatever) is what is served.  Whether or not you choose to eat it is up to you.  This is not a restaurant and I am not a short order cook.
2. If you choose to not eat your food, don’t ask me for a snack later.
3. If you want a treat, you have to eat your food (enter negotiation stage).

Usually it boils down to “If you eat four more bites of X, you may have X.”  It is almost a ritual.

SuperBaby, does not enjoy this ritual.  He wants what he wants and relies on the voracity of his vocal chords to get it.

So he would not eat his sandwich at dinner.  I got down to the bare bones: “You must eat this meat” (roughly 1/4 of a piece of turkey) “and then you may eat strawberries”.

He screamed.

He climbed on the table.

He threw his plate. (At which point I put him down and called it quits.)

He then proceeded to scream (if you are interested…he is still screaming)

and scream

and sob

and scream.

He then choked a little from screaming so hard.

For the love of strawberries.

This reminded me of my dad talking about when his mom used to cook octopus for dinner.  She was Greek…and not a good cook.  She liked to cook octopus for some reason.  He said they had to sit there until it was G.O.N.E.  and that they would sit there for HOURS…. the fish becoming cold and rubbery.  I get shivers just thinking about it.

So that story popped into my head and I laughed as I thought about calling him to share what a horrible mother I was for insisting upon 2 meager bites of turkey.

You know how when you think of sharing a story or a funny with someone … especially someone you love…. you have that flash of imagination where just for a moment you can see what their reaction will be when you tell them?  I did that.

He was going to think this was funny.

That whole mind trick took all of 10 seconds I’m sure, until I remembered that my dad has been gone for over 8.5 years.

How does your mind, your heart, do that?  How do you forget the absence of a presence that you miss so much?

Rot.

Hey Dad…. at least I didn’t make my kid eat Octopus.

Sugar and the Ultimate Demise of My Parenting Worth

Ok, that is a little dramatic I’ll admit…. but I’ve had it brewing in my head for a few days and it took on a life of its own.

When I was pregnant with SuperBoy I did all of the appropriate reading…and then I read like a million more things on top of that.  I carefully dissected each thing I read and then very carefully molded a parenting plan to be rivaled by no other.

Anyone reading this who has children knows at this point how laughable that is.  Downright hysterical, actually.  Parenting plans and the entire list of “I Will Never”s went out the window rather quickly….by the time I was pregnant with SuperGirl and introduced SuperBoy to television in a desperate attempt to buy time to recover from morning sickness…. I was well on my way down the slippery slope to parental ruin.

The one thing I was adamant about with SuperBoy was sugar.  Or rather, the lack of it processed and in his diet.  He had no cookies, he had no candy.  No frosting or cupcakes.  No Oreos, no popsicles and yes, no Birthday Cake.  I baked him a cake so healthy Jamie Oliver would be proud.

I managed to keep the sugar out of his diet until he turned 3 years old.  The philosophy behind my madness was this:  If you do not introduce processed sugar to children until they are old enough to recognize and label how they feel when they eat it…. they will be able to more easily identify when they have had enough and they will be more able to self regulate.

Sounds fantastic, right?  Turns out…at least in our case….it’s true.

When SuperBoy started noshing on cookies and ice cream at age 3 … it was increasingly difficult to keep it away from 1 year old SuperGirl.  She had an Honest to God, sugar infused Birthday Cake for her 1st Birthday…. and although they were introduced slowly…she was full sugars by the time she was 2years old.

Enter SuperBaby.  I have had little or no control over the sugar in this child’s life.

Okay, okay….again with the drama…

I have control over the sugar in his life.  I’m just saying that with two older siblings who drool out sugar in front of him… it has been more difficult for me to stay strong and true to the cause.  He had his first processed sugar by way of cookie before he even hit 1 year old.

Now…back to my theory:

SuperBoy is very aware of the effects of sugar on his body.  He does not like the way he feels when he has had enough and I can only remember one time when he didn’t walk away when he was “full” or started to feel the ill effects of sugar on his body.  He has no problem stepping back from an unfinished ice cream cone or cupcake and will often sometimes turn down cookies all together.

SuperGirl loooooves the sugar.  She will eat until you take it away…but gives it up willingly.  There is no arguing and she understands that it is time to stop, she just lacks the will power to do it on her own.  She requests “treats” on a more than average basis…but handles the rejection well.

SuperBaby is a disaster.  If this child sees candy, Rice Krispies Treats, ice cream, etc, etc, etc …. he goes into full out obsessive freak mode.  He points, he yells, he pulls out all of the stops and cries crocodile tears from those big, beautiful eyes.

All for a Tootsie Roll.

So as I let the sugar into our lives…it slowly worked its rot and decay on my worth as a parent…at least on the front line of defense against childhood obesity, low test scores and general apathy towards the world.

Add it to the list of “Best Laid Plans” and “Good Intentions”.

 

What a Difference Preschool Makes (repost)

The SuperHousehold is moving. I haven’t been able to post in a long time… because I don’t multi task well, apparently. Well my chaotic life should not cause you to be deprived of my beautiful pros. I’m going to republish a few articles over the next week or two … just so you don’t forget me. This post came to my mind today after I finished volunteering.
Original Post date: Nov 18, 2010

I love the days that I volunteer at preschool. For 2.5 hours I get to help do art, put out snacks and sing songs with my son and a room full of his “friends”. Approximately every 5 minutes SuperBoy looks up at me and gives me a goofy grin…or a thumbs up that makes me all warm inside.

At preschool, SuperBoy is the model of good behavior. He listens, follows directions, shares with the other kids. He eats his snack then politely asks for more…waits in line and washes his hands before it is time to sit down.

We get to have hugs, he sits on my lap. Volunteering at preschool is FUN. For days before it is my “turn” to volunteer he says “Mom…are you going to be my teacher today at school?”

Then yesterday, on the way home he said to me, “Mom, why are you different at preschool?” I asked him to clarify….fearing I already knew the answer.

“You act different when you are at my school.” Again, I asked him to clarify…what does he mean by “different”.

Come to find out I was right. “You don’t yell at preschool and you do all the stuff with me.” That particular morning I had put him off several times when he wanted me to do art with him… in lieu of dishes, laundry and a blog post or two. Let it be noted that we do art several times a day…this particular time, because my afternoon was to be spent running carpool and volunteering, was being spent on house chores.

My stomach fell, my heart broke. I was different at preschool. I was nice there…I was not nice at home. I am such a horrible mother.

Oh wait.

“SuperBoy, why are YOU different at preschool?”

“Huh?”

I explained all of the above: the minding, the listening, the all around good behavior.

“Oh yeah. I don’t know. I guess I like Miss Kathy and Miss Donna.” And you don’t like me???

So we talked about why that might be. The fact that the ONLY thing we have to do while we are there is focus on preschool activities. For me: there are no bills to pay, no dishes to wash, no diapers to change or other kiddos to take care of. For SuperBoy: all of the attention was dedicated to him and his friends and entertaining them, there was no diversion.

I’m feeling more rational about it all now… I won’t cry myself to sleep anymore…or maybe just once more. I would love for our house to always be like preschool… but it’s not. It’s my home, my business, my preschool, and the place where three little bodies vie for my attention all day long.

What a difference preschool makes.

Read more

Borrowing Trouble

SuperGirl has been a little wound the last couple of days. She is coming off of nearly two weeks of feeling yucky…tummy bugs then a cold that would knock us grown-ups off of our feet.  She’s been tired, she’s been cooped up and she has felt like poo.

So it is no surprise to me that as she is feeling better; the fever is gone, and her runny nose is down to a power walk…. that she is now suffering from cabin fever.

The past two days she has been defiant.  Absolutely refusing to follow direction, with a grin on her face.  Absolutely not caring about whatever consequence is put before her.  Picking fights with her brothers. Running away from me in the grocery store…giggling and squealing the entire way.

It is a little amusing.  It is a little frustrating.  And it is a little horrifying.

Today she hit me with some blocks during clean up and I informed her that her “morning was over”, it was naptime.  She didn’t want to go.  I carried her to her room and got her blankie, we rocked for a minute as I tried to calm her down.  I took the pony tail out of her long blonde hair; it always falls full of volume and looks very “grown up”.  She jumped up out of my lap and headed for the door.  As she opened the door and I told her to freeze or “there will be consequences later”,  she turned and looked at me from the doorway.

This is where it gets really crappy.

She was angry.  Her three year old self turned to look at me…a look that clearly stated “I don’t really care”…but her eyes were still full of tears. She stood frozen in the doorway for just a second before she took off running.

What did I see?

A 16 year old girl, mad at her mom for whatever the most recent fight was.  Standing in the doorway, making the decision to concede to the rules of the family or to run out the door in defiance, declaring her strength as an individual.

It was painful.  I almost vomited.

I chased her into the kitchen, picked her up and carried her back to her room with big fat tears in my eyes; imagining the equivalent 13 years from now.

Drama Queen?  Maybe.

I had a good family.  I had STRONG parents.  I was that girl. Standing in the doorway deciding between what I knew was right and what I thought I needed to prove.  I suffered when I made the wrong decision, and not by any consequence imparted on me by my parents.

I don’t think as a mother I have the strength to combat this.

My family semi-successfully made it through the first day of Daylight Savings time…or the first day of no more Daylight Savings Time.  Always a fan of “Fall Back” when I was a frequenter of bars… I am not so much a fan now that I’m a mom.  Don’t you know I JUST got my kids to sleep until 7 or 8 am?

I wasn’t exactly sure when the great “Fall Back” would occur so I Googled it sometime last week.  I did not find what I was looking for, oddly enough.  What I did find was an entire article on eHow about Daylight Saving Time…it was really interesting, covering areas from health to politics, economic effects to energy usage. Here are a couple of tidbits I found interesting:

• The effects of adapting time to fit our seasonal preferences on our circadian rhythms can be severe and last for weeks.

• The rate of heart attacks is higher in the first three workdays following the introduction of Daylight Savings Time in the Spring and lower in the first weekday following its cessation.

• The country of Kazakhstan actually stopped using DST in 2005 citing ill effects on health.

What I also found interesting was no mention in this very detailed article about children and their parents and the massive disruption to the household’s well being.  I’m just sayin’ …. from behavior to sleep and eat patterns, play schedules and temper tantrums… DST has a major impact on families with little children.

I find I have no point….but a small amount of helpful information.  I hope that works.

Michael’s Printable Coupons

Printable coupons at Michael’s for 50% off any one regular priced item if you can get there today…and another for 40% off one regular priced item that is good tomorrow (Tuesday) through Saturday, 16th.  It is sometimes difficult to find what you want at “Regular Price” in order to use the coupons…but think outside the box…stocking stuffers for the kids…supplies the kids can use for homemade gifts.  SuperBoy and I had so much fun making these Bubble Magnets two years ago and got all of our supplies at Michael’s using coupons like these!

Thanks, Coupon Geek!

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