"Parent"dox: The Marker, The Lobby & The Book

Sunday Night "Parent"dox #22:  The Marker, The Lobby & The Book

This may be one of the most classic "parent"doxes we've had around here in a while.

And it happened in public, so that makes it so much better.

And by better, I mean worse.

The week before school started, I was at the library with my 5-year-old son and my 3-year-old daughter, enjoying the last storytime of the summer.  We sang.  We danced.  We listened to a couple stories.  Life was good.

Once the official storytime was over, we headed over to the children's section of the library to play with the toys, check out some books, and maybe color a picture or two.

This is where things went horribly awry.

My kids were both coloring pictures, when all of the sudden, my daughter realized she absolutely, most definitely, positively needed the yellow marker that was in her brother's hand.  She needed yellow, she needed the one her brother had, and she needed it now.  Nevermind you that there was a tub of 16 yellow markers that were EXACTLY THE SAME as the one in his hot little hand.  No no...she needed that one.

So what's a 3-year-old to do?

Well, reach over and pry it out of her brother's hand while he is using it to color in his picture, obviously.  

Let me tell you how well this went over with my perfectionist, borderline OCD son, when his picture got goofed up at the hand of his little sister.

Lead balloon, people.  Lead.  Balloon.

Amazingly, he pulled himself together and got right back to his coloring pretty quickly.  That miracle falls in the category of "God never gives you more than you can handle" as you can see by what transpired next.

My daughter lost her mind.  Completely lost her mind.  Temper tantrum, fit, meltdown...whatever you want to call it, she was having one, then and there.  You know how sometimes you can tell if a thunderstorm is there to stay or is just going to blow over?  In the same way, sometimes I can tell if my daughter is totally committed to the meltdown or if she can be talked down.  Let me tell you, there was no bringing her back from this one.  The National Weather Service was calling for an emergency evacuation this time.

So evacuate, we did.

I ended up having to pick her up, and carry her out to the lobby of the library, after telling my son to just keep working on his picture and reassuring him that I'd be back soon.  Once away from the toys and the marker and the audience, I thought she would start to calm down.  

For the 4,582,319th time in my parenting career, I guessed wrong.   

While sitting on the bench with her, two -- count 'em -- TWO different librarians very sweetly came over and asked if there was anything they could do to help.  That is basically librarian code for "Please get your kid to SHUT UP.  Quickly.  Please and thank you."

Something else happened while I sat there, holding my daughter, letting her know that when she could calm down and be in control of herself, we'd go back into the library.  Enter my latest "parent"dox moment.  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and taking it as happy distraction from the screaming toddler I was trying to restrain on my lap, I eagerly checked my new message.

It was a text message.  

From the library.

That the book I had put on hold about how to parent a strong-willed child was now on the shelf and ready to be picked up.

I'm not kidding.  I can't make this stuff up.

I'm fairly certain the librarians went back and ran my plates or library card or whatever and looked me up in their system and decided we need to get this woman some help -- now -- and went and got that book for me right then and there.

Oh, "parent"dox, how you keep me on my toes and make me laugh and just in general remind me I will never, ever have this parenting thing totally figured out.

You can rest at ease.  My daughter did calm down, we did go back in the library, my son was still sitting at the table coloring and away, and my daughter very sweetly apologized to him.  

She also had no further interest in the yellow marker.

Needless to say, I have a lot of reading in my near future...

When timing is everything, You Are a Good Mom.

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My Spitting, Burping Kids

I'm not sure which was more difficult:  sending my oldest child off on his first day of kindergarten, or keeping him home with me on his second.

Oh yes...this mom is sorry to report that her son missed his second day of kindergarten because he was home sick.  

Not exactly the kick-off to the school year we were all expecting.

Tuesday was a total whirlwind at our house.  We did the whole "first day of school" thing with the pictures and the excitement and the bus ride and everything, and let me tell you, I was pretty worn out by 9:15am and I wasn't even the one going to school.  

I told my daughter we'd celebrate her "first day" of just her and Mom, and celebrate we did.  She chose to go to Meijer Gardens, a favorite spot of hers, and we had a great time playing outside, going for a walk, and just enjoying the beautiful weather and hanging out together.  (Not to mention, trying to keep Mom's mind occupied so she wouldn't be missing and worrying about her kindergartner too much!)

Our next stop was to meet Grandma and Aunt Katie for a special lunch date, and my daughter actually fell asleep in the drive across town.

It was 12:06.

This should have been my first warning.

This kid -- the fighter of all things sleep related -- has not taken a nap in I don't know how long. Let alone that early in the afternoon.  Not only did she fall asleep in the car, but she then stayed asleep when I took her out of her car seat, and then for a good 30 minutes or so in the restaurant.

This is absolutely unheard of for her.

I chalked it up to all the fresh air and back-to-school excitement and lack of sleep at our house, and we went on our merry way.  We watched a movie and cuddled together for a little while on the couch when we got home.

This should have been my second warning.

We then greeted my happy, tired son as he got of the bus, heard bits and pieces about his day, had him scarf down a snack or two while my husband got him in his soccer gear, and we were out the door to soccer practice.  He had a blast and ran and ran and ran for a good hour.  I have no idea where he got his energy from, after having just completed his first full day of kindergarten.  But run and laugh and smile and play he did.

Once we got home, it was time for dinner, my husband was off to his softball double header, and I was on bath and bedtime duty.  Needless to say, it had been a very full, busy day.

But this is where it gets exciting.

At 12:34am, I heard my daughter crying from her room.  For the Queen of Night Terrors, this is a pretty regular occurrence for her.  I let her cry for a couple of minutes, and then heard "Mommy, I need a napkin!" so I figured I'd go in and check on her.  She tends to yell lots of weird things in her sleep, so again, this wasn't cause for alarm, but rather another insight into her bizarre 'sleeping' habits.  

In sticking with advice from our pediatrician, I kept the lights off to keep the room dark, and reached down to pick her up.  She felt damp, and I thought she must have been crying quite a bit, so I took her out to the kitchen to help her calm down.

Except the damp wasn't tears.

Oh no.  I'm sure by this point, you've all figured out what the "damp" was, so I'll spare you the details.  And it was not only covering her little body, it was also now covering my not-so-little body.

This is the first time in her 3 1/2 years she's gotten sick to her stomach, so this lovely experience was all brand new to her. I mustered up my most soothing Mom voice and tried to reassure her she was OK and we'd get cleaned up and sometimes people get sick and it's OK, all the while stripping off both of our pajamas and trying not to get sick myself.   

We both hopped in a hot shower, at which point my husband came upstairs from watching TV downstairs and hesitantly asked: 

"Is everything OK?"

I think the sound of the shower after midnight when I had already been asleep may have tipped him off that the answer to this question would inevitably be "no."

Bless his absolutely amazing heart, he took on the tough job of cleaning up her bedding.  And I'll leave it at that, because my stomach is turning just typing those words.  

So to avoid that less than pleasant mental picture, here's a little comic relief:  Throughout this ordeal, my daughter kept referring to getting sick as "spitting" and wanted to know where the "spit bucket" was my husband had gotten for her.  Spitting?  Really?  Yeah, so not in the same ballpark.  When he was her age, my son referred to it as "burping."  Apparently, we have not properly educated our children on the true definitions of bodily functions.  

I'm sure there's an app for that, or some cute printable diagram on Pinterest that would help with this very situation.

I know you're all extremely eager to hear more about "spitting" and "burping," so back to our happy little story.

We got everyone dressed, sleeping arrangements were made, and all things considered, life was good.

Until it was quiet, and I instantly started worrying about my son.  

What if he was exposed to it?  What if he is sick?  Should I keep him home tomorrow?  It's only his second day of school...I can't keep him home if I only think he could get sick.  What if he gets sick on the bus?  What if he gets sick at school?  What if it scars him for life and he hates school and he ends up being a kindergarten drop out?

As you can see, I have this worrying thing down to science.

But it wasn't too long until all my worries were gone.

His light flicked on around 3:00am, and I heard him whimper and whine from his bedroom.  Sure enough, it was off to the bathroom with him, and he joined the ranks of his sick little sister.  The good news?  I knew for sure I'd be keeping him home the next day.  It absolutely broke my heart --  especially when he said through tears "I don't want to do this ever again in my whole life!" -- but at least it wasn't something for me to wonder about any more.  At least that way, I could get some sleep instead of laying awake worrying all night.

All you veteran moms are laughing hysterically right now at my naive line of thinking, as you know that sleep was the last thing that would be happening in our house for the next few hours.

I spent the remainder of the night "bed hopping" from my son's room to my room (where my daughter was now sleeping) to help whoever was sick at that moment.  Thanks to super-sonic-mom hearing, the second I heard the whine start, I was running to that bed to grab that kid and race them to the nearest bathroom as fast as I could.

Our overall record for the night: on 3 out of 4 occasions  the sick kid in question made it to the bathroom in time.  I'd consider that a victory.

Needless to say, I now know how to use the school's attendance hotline to call my kid in sick, and yes, I found out it even works at 3:00am.  I'm guessing we may have been one of the first -- if not the first -- call for the year.  Maybe my son will get some kind of award at the end of the year.  Or maybe some kind of "free pass" so both kids can avoid any illness that may come their way this year.  Like immunity.  But real, actual immunity, as in being immune to real, actual germs, not just where you can't get voted off the island. 

We can only hope.

I'm thankful we were able to have a really low key day yesterday, and basically watch all of their allotted TV time for the next 6 months in one day.  I'm thankful for an incredible husband who helped with all the clean up duties, and who is paying the price by now being sick himself.  I'm thankful that I was able to be there to comfort them and take care of them in the night and during the day today.  I'm thankful that no one has actually gotten sick in our house in the last 19 hours, and hopefully everyone is on the mend.  I'm thankful I haven't gotten sick myself.

But seriously?  The stomach flu on the second day of kindergarten?  Not so thankful for that.

Here's to hoping that this round of "spitting" and "burping" has come to an end.

 Whether you're sending them off on their first day, or keeping them home on their second, You Are a Good Mom.

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To My Son on His First Day of School

To My Son...

Today is your very first day of kindergarten.  

Your backpack is zipped up.  Your lunch is packed.  Your water bottle is topped off.  

You are ready to go.

Every day for the last week, you have started your day by asking me "Mom, is today my first day of school?"  You eagerly sprinkled your 'Ready Confetti' from your teacher under your pillow last night to help you get a good night's rest. You've been jumping up and down every time someone so much as mentions the word "kindergarten" in your presence.

I suppose those things really just describe the "excited" part of being ready to go.

But I've also seen the "prepared" part of being ready to go in you, too.

You are a good problem solver.  You know how to zip and unzip your lunch box.  You are a good listener.  You love to learn new things.  You introduce yourself to new kids, and invite them to play.  You know exactly where your classroom, your locker, your desk are.  You can follow directions.  You can ask questions and ask for help when you need it.  You know how to stand up for yourself.  I've seen you grow and develop confidence in yourself and do all these things.  

I know you are ready, in every sense of the word.

So I guess the real question is: Am I ready?

Am I ready to put you on that bus?  Am I ready to admit that you really don't need me to help you eat lunch every day?  Am I ready to accept that you will make friends that I don't know and haven't met first?  Am I ready to admit that the sweet baby boy I held in my arms what seems like moments ago is ready to walk into his kindergarten classroom and wave good-bye?

Here's the funny thing about being a parent...the answers to those questions are irrelevant.

It doesn't really matter if I'm ready or not, because you are.  And you won't wait around for me to 'be ready' because that's not how it works, and that's not how it should work.  Honestly, I don't know that I'll ever truly be ready for any part of you growing up, whether it's your first day of kindergarten or your first day of college.

But that's OK.  

Because you are ready.  And I wouldn't want it any other way.  I am thankful that you are excited and confident and eager and ready.  It is a blessing to this Mom's heart.  

While I may not be nearly as ready as you are, I do know I am just as excited as you are about today.  So much lies ahead, and today simply marks the first step in an amazing journey for you.  You are going to experience so many "firsts" this year, and I can't wait to hear all about them from your thrilled little face while you jump up and down the entire time you're telling me about it.  There is so much for you to learn and do and see and experience.  You whole world is going to open up to be so much bigger this year.  

As your world does grow by leaps and bounds when you walk in the doors of that school, my prayer for you is that you are YOU.  That you are 100% totally and completely YOU.  God has made you this kind, fun-loving, compassionate, goofy, smart boy, and He needs you to be YOU.  Your teacher and your classmates need you to be YOU.  The world needs you to be YOU. 

And do you know why?
  
Because you are a pretty incredible kid.  You are an incredible kid just by being YOU.  You have so much to offer this world, and in order to do that, you need to be YOU.

I hope you follow your heart and make choices based on what you know to be true and right and kind.  I hope you have lots of chances to speak what's on your mind, and share your thoughts in the way only you can.  I hope you find a peace and confidence to just be yourself and light up the room the way I've seen you do countless times.  I hope you trust yourself and believe in yourself and stay true to yourself.   

This will be true for your first day of kindergarten, your first day of high school, and your first day at your first job.  

I think that's what gets me about this day.  I'm going to blink and I'm going to be sharing these same words with you on your first day of high school, and over the phone with you on your first day at your first job.  Today is a reminder of just how fast it all goes and how precious these moments with you are.  Today is also a reminder of all the possibilities that life has to offer you.

So today, if you happen to see me cry or catch my breath as I wave good bye to you when the bus pulls away, please know they are tears of absolute joy and pride and excitement and gratitude on my part.  I am so very honored that I get to be your mom, and have a front row seat to watch you grow up.  I am thrilled to be on this journey with you.  

I hope you have a fantastic first day of kindergarten, and I absolutely can't wait to hear every single detail from you tonight at dinner.  

I love you to the moon and back!
Mom

Ready or not, You're a Good Mom.

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TSW?T: Back-to-School Style

They Said What? Tuesday:  Volume 18

My 3-year-old daughter...

"Can I have some more of those Tinkle chips?"

...you may be thinking this sounds like some type of potty training reward, but you, unfortunately, be wrong.  My daughter was simply talking about...

Clearly, she has not been around these delicious morsels nearly enough.  I have somehow failed her as a mother, and seek to rectify this wrong by keeping a steady supply of them in the house.  That I will probably consume myself.

My 5-year-old son...

"Maybe they will just take my tongue out and give me a new tongue!"
...his prediction, as we arrived at the doctor's office, for what might happen after he gets the bump on his tongue checked out.  Oddly enough, he had a huge smile on his face as he rattled this statement off.


And a little "back-to-school special" for your reading pleasure


My 3-year-old daughter...

"I'm going to have a sleepover with Miss Julie and Miss Deb!"
...telling her brother's teacher about starting preschool.  She somehow has gotten the idea that when she goes to Open House, she will be having a sleepover with her teachers.  I hope the time to play in the kitchen area and the sticker she gets for her shirt won't disappoint too much!

My 5-year-old son...


"Mom, can Mrs. K read?"
...while getting school supplies at Meijer.  He was choosing lemon-scented cleaning wipes, and wanted to be able to 'trick the kids' because they will smell like lemon instead of just 'cleaner.'

"What bus does Mrs. K drive?"
...during our conversation about getting on the bus and where it will pick him up and drop him off.

My favorite part of both of these quotes is that Mrs. K is his classroom teacher, who he already adores.  I can't imagine just how amazed he'll be at all the READING she can do, but that may be balanced out by the fact that while she is educating and caring for him all day everyday, she is not also DRIVING him to and from school on the bus.

Oh, how I love how the 5-year-old mind works!  Seeing school through his eyes for the very first time has been refreshing, funny and eye-opening all at the same time.
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No matter what they say, You Are a Good Mom.

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"Parent"dox: 'Bee' Tough

Sunday Night "Parent"dox #21:  'Bee' Tough

My daughter is very good at a lot of things.  

She loves to dance.  She has an infectious laugh and smile.  She rides her "big girl bike" like nobody's business.

But perhaps what she is best at is whining.

She has, without a doubt, mastered this skill.  She is a blue ribbon, first class, black belt whiner. 

Just about anything can set her off.  If she doesn't get the coloring book she wants, we hear about it.  If she gets the toy she wants, but then her brother picks up a different one and she instantly wants that one, we hear about it.  If she bumps into the cushy ottoman while walking through the living room, we hear about it.

I have passed out more Band-Aids to this child than most elementary schools go through in a year.  Nearly all of them are for "boo boo's" that have long been healed, or sometimes, don't even exist.

I love her dearly, I really do.  

She is just a champion whiner.

But here's the "parent"dox...my whiniest child is also by far my absolute toughest child.

This weekend, we experienced our first bee sting.  Considering we are 8 "kid years" (a 5-year-old and a 3-year-old) into this parenting gig, I figure it's pretty good odds we've made it this far without a bee sting.  When the sting happened, there was a moment of panic, as we weren't at our own house and I didn't have any Benadryl on me and I had no idea if either of my children were allergic to bees. 

(Thankfully, I know now one of them is not.)

The receiver of the sting was none other than my daughter.  She cried pretty good for about 73 seconds.  We put ice on it, sat on the couch with her and gave her a bite of ice cream, and honestly, that was the end of it.  We didn't hear boo about it from her for the rest of the night or the next day.  

No whining.  No Band-Aid request.  No crying.

Whenever this child has had an injury of any magnitude, she is absolutely, hands down, the toughest kid I know.  She came close to needing stitches in the back of her head, and let the doctor poke and look around like it was no big deal.  She scraped her knee pretty good when she fell running around outside, and was intrigued with how her Dad was cleaning up her wound and putting bandages on it.

Bee sting?  Piece of cake.

Had this been a hangnail, I'd still be hearing about it.

When they whine more than you can imagine; When they are tougher than you can imagine;  You Are a Good Mom.

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Just a Little While Longer

"Ahh!! Look out!  Look out!"

"Planes are going everywhere!   There's a big accident!"

"Ahhh!  Whoa!  Whoa!  Whoa!  Whoa!"

"Dusty Crophopper is coming through!  He's coming up this way!  Dusty Crophopper!"

That is the play by play I can hear coming from my son's bedroom right now.  My daughter is in there with him, and they are zooming their airplanes all over the place, and every once in awhile, crashing into one another.

Their teeth have been brushed, their stories have been read, and their little selves have been tucked in tight.  

They should be in their own rooms, quietly laying in their beds and drifting off to dreamland.

Except they're not.

I should be telling my daughter to go back to her room and telling my son to put the toys away and go to sleep.

Except I'm not.

I'm laying here in my bed.  I'm listening to them create their own imaginary world above the clouds.  I'm taking in an impromptu playtime of them just being brother and sister and actually enjoying one another.  I'm soaking up just one more night of them being 5 and 3.  

These moments will be gone much too soon.  

"Back-to-school" is just around the corner, and with it comes schedule and routine and consistency.  While I am a lover of all things schedule and routine and consistent, I know it also means no more 'extended' bedtimes or my little pilots 'sneaking' out of bed to squeeze in a few more minutes of play with each other.  Once school starts, they'll be passed out at the dinner table if I don't keep them awake with the promise of dessert.  If they do stay awake beyond a scoop of ice cream and their normal bedtime routine, I'll have no choice but to march their little buns to their respective beds when I hear their airplane dialogue begin.  

These moments will be gone much too soon.  

"Back-to-school" will come this year, and next year, and the year after that.  Elementary school will become middle school will become high school.  Before I know it, the toy airplanes will be packed away.  They won't need me to brush their teeth before bed or read them stories.  Sneaking out of bed to talk to their brother or sister will not be something they consider "fun."  All too soon, I'll be laying in bed listening not to their voices exchanging airplane dialogue, but for the sound of their car making it safely into the driveway.  

So just for tonight, just for a little while longer, I'll let them be pilots.  

I'll let them soar and crash and fly and zoom.  

I'll let them think I don't know they're still awake, and I'll listen in on their little world. 

I'll hang on to summer for one more night.  

I'll hang on to them at 5 and 3 for one more night.

"Dusty Crophopper...to the rescue!"

Even when you let them stay up just a few minutes longer than you should, You're a Good Mom. 

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TSW?T: You Need ID to Enter this Spelling Bee

They Said What? Tuesday:  Volume 17

My 3-year-old daughter...

"Mom, you can just start sleeping for me, OK?"

...her request from me as she was having a hard time falling asleep the other night.  

My 5-year-old son...

P:  "When I grow up, I want to go to the b-a-r.  That spells 'bar.' "
Me:  "Um, what does that mean?"  (while trying to not react at all)
P:  "You know...like a chocolate bar!"
Me:  "Huh.  Where did you hear that?"
P:  "On the show."
Me:  "What show?"
P:  "All the shows!"  (laughing...like he is totally making this up as he goes)
...where to even begin with this one?  The teacher in me loves that he is playing with letters and sounds and starting to figure stuff like this out.  The mom in me is terrified he is going to say stuff JUST LIKE THIS when he is at school in 2 short weeks.  Yikes!!
.
No matter what they say, You Are a Good Mom.

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