Grace

We've been saying grace before meals for months now, just trying to pause, hold hands and say one thing we're thankful for that day. Audrey usually gets left out, because she's in her highchair and it's too far to reach. We ask her at the end, and then Lance fills in that she's thankful for broccoli or her babies or something. The grace time is usually filled with Lance sneaking food, pulling uncomfortably on Pat's thumbs, being silly, or taking control of who goes first.

But tonight we forgot to say grace until we were almost done, and Audrey had already eaten and gotten out of her highchair. She was standing next to Pat, so he asked if she wanted to hold his hand. She "told us," through her usual "uh, uh" and trying to climb onto the chair, that she wanted to sit at the 4th chair like a big girl. We helped her up, and she sat there, BEAMING, holding my hand on one side and Pat's hand on the other, like such a member of the family! When we finished and dropped hands, she signed "MORE!" So we did it again, with bigger smiles and a few more tears in our eyes.

I'm thankful for my kids, no matter how fast they're growing up.

Editor's addition: Amazing Grace tonight - 11/16/07. She was fussy in her highchair, didn't really want to eat dinner. We let her get down, and she was whining and pulling at us while we tried to finish dinner. Finally, she went into the family room to play with a book. The Boy suddenly says, "We forgot to say grace!" And she pops up and RUNS back to the table and grabs our hands, standing calmly and quietly while we give thanks, with tears in our eyes...

Always amazing, that Nearly-Five

Now the story about alternative rewards.


Brief history (see Nov 3 post for reference): Lance has had some small issues at preschool, with bringing home notes (not every day, but 1 or 2 a week for a few weeks) that he "had trouble making safe choices" or "needed lots of reminders to keep his hands to himself" or "was throwing balls at people in the gym." We started out by taking away the privilege of an evening video if he had a tough day at school, but it just seemed to make him angry at us and ruin our evening.

So we came up with the "reward for a good week" idea, and last week it was a Ninja Turtle cartoon from the movie store. But I quote myself from Nov 3... "We plan to use it again as needed, but use alternative rewards like a special meal out or special activity, so it's not always a movie."

Lance and I discussed it yesterday. I said, "You know, the reward doesn't always have to be a movie. Mommy and Daddy would like to talk to you about other ideas for rewards."
I'm expecting this response: "I only like movies and Star Wars toys. That's what I want." and figuring that we've just ruined any chance for intrinsic motivation and he'll always need to be paid for good grades or bribed to do his chores--he's a lost cause at Nearly-Five.

But here's what pops out of his mouth!
"Mommy, I have an idea. Maybe the special reward could be a trip out to breakfast on the weekend, to the Original Pancake House, or maybe special time with you at the park, or out to lunch, or you could take me roller skating, or maybe ICE SKATING! "
My eyes actually filled up with tears. I was so proud we had to call Daddy at work right away and retell.
"But Mommy, sometimes the reward could be a movie, right?"

And last night before bed, a STUMPER! He went through a phase of asking questions about God and death when he was about 3, including, "What happens to your body when you die?" "When will I die?" "How tall is God?" "Where do people live in Heaven?" and "Will I see Grandpa John in Heaven?" But the stumper questions have tapered off, probably while Star Wars stories and Ninja Turtles thoughts are killing off brain cells.

Tuesday night's stumper: "Before I was born, before I was in your tummy, where was I?"

Uhhhhhh. Somehow with this amazingly verbal, sharp kid, we have avoided the actual body parts discussion about the mechanics of how babies are made. He knew the word "uterus" and how Audrey was in a bag of water and how she came out, but he was satisfied with the explanation about how Daddy has something in his body called sperm and Mommy has eggs (which, by the way, is HYSTERICAL to him. I think he pictures egg cartons in there..) and they go together to make a baby. But he never asked the famous HOW DO THEY GET TOGETHER question.

I know, you're on the edge of your seat.... how did we answer? Luckily Daddy was in the room too. I reviewed the egg and sperm part, and said he wasn't a baby yet. Daddy saved the day, saying that God knew he was going to be our baby, he just hadn't decided what he would look like yet. That satisfied him--I could just see the wheels turning, picturing a big room with a bunch of babies on shelves, waiting to be mailed...

Amazing, that Nearly-Five.

No particular place to go

We definitely needed a slow-down day. I always feel like we're rushing around. Either getting to preschool 3 days a week or running errands, dashing back home for lunch and Audrey's nap, somehow I'm always sweating. How fun is the park if Mommy is anxiously checking her watch, saying, "5 more minutes.. how about one more slide?"

So Tuesday I timidly suggested that we just stay home and play outside. I braced myself for the typical whining about wanting to go look at toys at Target, but he said, "ok, mom. I want to stay home."

Amazing. That was all it took. We had a leisurely breakfast, played tea party and the ever-popular "fling your toys all over the floor," then bundled up to go outside into the sunny but cold morning. Lance dug in the dirt and played (don't get me started, at least he's outside) "shoot my stick guns at the bad guys" while Audrey and I blew bubbles, played in the sandbox and the clubhouse, and rode her trike. Lucky for us, we weren't the bad guys. At least not today...





It was delightful. No one felt rushed, everyone got some fresh air and unstructured play time. We need more of these days. If I can come up with enough fun "inside" options, it might work once a week.

Bluebeard and Hermit the Frog

Not much today except to show you how quick and tricky Audrey is. You turn your back for a second while she's happily coloring and playing with stickers in her highchair, and BAM!

She basically licks the crayon and rubs it around her face like lipstick... yummy.

The worst part is how smug she looks about it, like "This is just the beginning, silly lady..."

On to the other kid. We got some Muppet Show videos from the library, so we're deep into explaining the difference from Sesame Street and why Miss Piggy is so mean, and Lance calls him "HERMIT the Frog!" I told him it was Kermit, but I love Hermit more than I loved "macanoni." It's hard to correct him when I like his pronunciation better. And he is usually so correct with his words--my mom said I was the same way--so I treasure the little slips.

More tomorrow about his wonderful list of alternative rewards...

Menthol sleep curse

I have the problem of falling asleep while putting Lance to bed. The deal is I lie down with him for a quick story and a 5 minute snuggle, but often I can't make it through the story and 5 minutes horizontal means I'm asleep. He's often shaking me, saying, "Mommy, finish the story" or "What?" when some complete nonsense mumbling about work or a grocery list comes out in the middle of the story. It's pathetic, I know, but I'm tired.
And tonight we put Vicks VapoRub on his chest because he was coughing, so I was lulled to sleep by the mentholy-eucalyptus vapors in the air. My husband had to come in and wake me up--twice--before I dragged myself out of there.

The worst part of falling asleep is that I'm ruined for the rest of the evening. I stagger around the house, trying to remember what amazing organizational tasks or huge amount of work I was going to accomplish tonight, but really I just straighten papers, eat some cereal, check email, and remember that I HAVE TO POST A BLOG ENTRY because I am trying to do one every day. I need a theme if I'm already writing about falling asleep putting my kid to bed on November 5.

But it was either that or be depressed about how much our new furnace is going to cost.

Time for more Vicks, I think...

Will I ever learn?

I find myself feeling crazy, disorganized, and out of control and then I look at what I put on my own plate.

Saturday's example:
8:30 am - trying to leave the house in the middle of morning breakfast chaos to get some work done at a coffee shop and the library. (This has been our Saturday routine lately so I can get my work hours in and not feel so exhausted and insane trying to work every evening after kids are in bed). I leave after being grumpy and stressing everyone out.
9:00-11:00 am - spend 2 hours at a coffee shop, actually get some work done, but feel mostly guilty for being so crabby in the morning
11:15 am - quick stop to Trader Joe's to buy the noodles I forgot last night
11:30-2:00 pm - spend 3 hours at the library, continuing to work but mostly being tired and restless, wishing that if I had free time without kids on a Saturday, that I could actually be running errands, early Christmas shopping, cleaning my house, or visiting a friend.
2:00-2:30 - make a mad dash into the consignment store that I never have time to hit without the kids, and if I'm trying to bargain shop and not buy new things, I have to go there occasionally and check things out.
2:45 pm - go home to crabby-just-woke-up Audrey and wild-Mommy-just-got-home Lance, try to cook pasta for my dinner w/friends tonight BEFORE the other friends come over with their 1 yr old to watch the football game on tv.
4:30 - friends and 1 yr old arrive, Audrey tries to hug their baby to death, chasing him around like he's catnip. I frantically try to clean dishes, get chips and salsa out, get some dinner for Lance, peel Audrey off friend's kid, fix my hair for tonight
6:00 - leave the house, complete with pasta dinner, to meet group of friends for dinner. I leave husband there with 2 kids, dinner partially scattered around the kitchen, friends still there with their poor mauled baby, and a hurricane of toys.

Whew. And I wonder why I feel stressed?

P.S. - I had a nice time with friends, got home at a reasonable hour, and got to set the clocks back. And because of darling husband, house was completely cleaned up and kids were snug in their beds. That extra hour of sleep is a myth, unfortunately, when the kids wake up an hour early with their little clocks still on Daylight Savings Time. But I still woke up with the overwhelmed crazy feeling.

Nearly-Five is so...

capable, funny, able to laugh at jokes. I don't know exactly what it is, but I am really enjoying Lance right now. We've always had fun, but lately he's just so grown-up. Maybe it's the contrast with Audrey, Miss "Trying to be grown up but really still such a wild toddler/baby girl," or maybe it's my mama heart realizing that his last year of preschool is a huge milestone, the beginning of him moving slowly away from my clutches.

Don't worry--not that much has changed. Of course I'm alternately wildly loving him, watching him sleep or laughing at his silly antics or marveling at his deep thoughts and GRITTING MY TEETH in annoyance at his rough play with Audrey, constant GUN-SHOOTING-BAD GUYS-VIOLENCE play, BURPING on purpose, or his NONSTOP TALKING.

I'm just more aware these days of how BIG he is, and how much he can do. The other day I was upstairs getting Audrey resettled during her nap, and Lance was playing outside in back. He came in, took off his shoes, went potty (wiped all by himself) and went back outside--gasp!--without any help from me! And he often clears his plate without being asked, says "thank you" and "excuse me," and quite often is spotted playing sweetly and actually sharing with his sister. He plays "reverse psychology" with us sometimes, saying "Mommy, do NOT eat your broccoli!" and laughing himself silly.

After a couple of weeks of issues at school, bringing home notes about hitting and playing too rough at school, we set a goal for last week. If he had 3 good days (one week) at school (which included Halloween on Wednesday), he could pick out a movie at the movie store. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (don't even get me started about my feelings about the movie, or the road we've gone down in terms of superhero/fighting tv) cartoons make a powerful incentive, obviously, and he earned it. He was very pleased with himself, and as much as I hate the external reward idea, it worked. We plan to use it again as needed, but use alternative rewards like a special meal out or special activity, so it's not always a movie.

I'm so proud of the boy he's become. Of course "proud" from me comes with all sorts of silent worries and fears. Poor boy can't avoid that--no matter how I try to hide it, I know he can sense them. He's doomed to a life of First Born Type A, I'm afraid.. But the thought of kindergarten next year makes me a little nostalgic (ok, a little excited too--he'll be gone every day!) and a little freaked out at how just yesterday he was this tiny baby who arrived too early.

It's the time of year, too.. Every November I think about being on bedrest with him, and Christmastime reminds us of his 11 days in the hospital. It reminds me to be thankful for my many blessings, even if it's through gritted teeth some days.