Enough About Us

Playing Time

2012-05-16T16:07:00.003-07:00

I read an article recently about the problem of parents being too engaged with their phone/email/technology that they were not really ever "present" with their kids.

I often work at home. So, there are certainly times where I have to turn my back to the fellas and pound out some work. Most of the time, Chase punishes me for this by quietly emptying bookshelves, digging candy out from high-up shelves or going into his brother's room and destroying the various "set-ups."

Ryder punishes me by fussing. As he's getting older, his fussing has gotten much more sophisticated. His current 8 year old version of fussing is a mixture of homework avoidance, rough play and noise.

Because of these times where I MUST ignore them, I've generally been fairly disciplined about being "present" all of the other times. But recently, I've realized how much they rely on me for their entertainment. Be it a trip to the park, the agreement to turn on a show or the organization of a playdate or whatever.

It's too much pressure, you know? Sometimes, I want to join THEIR game. Or flip a magazine while they play.

So I've changed my ways. I've started telling them to find something to do.

And, so far, they do.

As I look outside right now, Ryder is rolling on the ground telling his brother a "potty" joke.

Fantastic!

In Love

2012-05-07T19:35:00.002-07:00

"I tell my teachers that I am in love," says Chase.

"Oh my!" I say. "Who do you love?"

"I love CAROLINE," he whispers into my ear.

"What does it mean to love Caroline?" I ask.

"It means she is my friend and she is CUTE!" he says, eyes sparkling.

Four years old, and he's nailed it.

Having Time

2012-05-06T18:21:00.000-07:00

Every Sunday night, a "fuss" ensues.

Usually, it's because the game of Kitchen Hockey is deemed over. Or, because the Safety Vehicles must be put away.

It's ALWAYS because we finally stopped running around and just started hanging around....and no one wants to be finished.

I wish I would remember this on Friday night. Instead of keeping us running from thing to thing, I wonder about just laying about, hanging out and not getting anything done?

Next weekend, I think I might try it.

It will be Mother's Day, after all. So who is going to argue with me?

Cause and Effect

2012-05-03T08:51:00.000-07:00

The other day, on the pool deck after swimming lessons, Chase told his teacher that she was a "Poco" (Chase-speak for "idiot") and then he spat at her.

He SPAT at her.

Being super-suave with children and having months of experience with Chase, she shook her head and winked at me, understand how ferociously angry he was that his swimming lesson was over.

Chase LOVES swimming lessons.

But no one loves spitting, so he missed out on his playtime in the nearby hot-tub in exchange for his transgression.

Later the same day, he spat at Ryder.

He stared me down as I walked him to the naughty mat and set the timer. Then, I handed him a container and told him to spit.

For nearly 10 minutes, he spat. He spat and spat and spat. And called me a Poco.

Then he told me he did not want to spit anymore. He announced that I was the most beautiful and cute mother in the universe, and then he marched over and apologized to his brother.

One of my favorite features of Chase is his clear understand of "cause and effect." The trick is figuring out the right effect.

Ah parenting....keeps you humble.

To the Joneses

2012-02-12T16:44:00.000-08:00

Dear Joneses,

I'm not even sure who you are, but it turns out I've been trying to keep up with you.

With children utterly exhausted by the pace of life, I'm going to go ahead and let you run on ahead.

The baseball, basketball, Cub Scouts, birthday parties, swimming lessons and everything else I've signed up for...Joneses, I give up. HAVE THEM. Because really, right now, I think what me and my fellas need most is to wrestle on the floor. And ride bikes. And build forts. And lay around.

Here it is, 4pm on Sunday, and it's our first opportunity.

What are we doing?

I mean really.

Right now the hockey is on, daddy is wrestling with boys and all is well with the world. Why did we take up so much of the weekend on anything else?

I have no idea.

So starting now I'm approaching things differently. Never mind what any one thinks, what any one says or what anyone wants.

Sometimes, we just aren't going to make it.

We're staying home.

Have a good time taking over the world, Joneses!

It's all yours.

Taking the Loop

2012-02-05T20:04:00.000-08:00

People ask all the time if our kids are the same or different.

Likely because they are both considered loud and crazy, folks assume they are similar.

They are way, way different.

Way different.

Several years back, when Ryder was learning to ride a two-wheel bike, we had to beg him to try riding without his training wheels. He wobbled, he was hesitant, he was frightened. For several Saturdays in a row, his daddy would take him out to an empty parking lot and practice, and then finally one day he was ready to fly.

Conversely, last weekend we took the training wheels off of Chase's bicycle. He shot off like a rocket, his daddy's hands never needing to steady the back of his seat. He circled the parking lot like he owned the place, struggling only to slow down his bike and find a way to stop.

We hit the empty parking lot once more today and again Chase took off riding. And then there he was....riding up the walkway of the building and attempting to loop around the handrails, taking a HUGE curve as fast he could.

He crashed.

He got up.

He tried again.

He crashed.

He got up.

His daddy stood at the troubling corner.

He tried again.

He crashed.

He got up.

He tried again.

He looped the corner.

And THIS is one way that our fellas our different. While Ryder is more cautious, more aware of limitations and patient to wait for those to clear up, Chase just goes.

Chase takes the corners fast and hard. He is not afraid to fall.

We're hoping that he will take a little bit of influence from his older brother and consider taking the occasional precaution.

But we are not holding our breath.

Second Fiddle

2012-01-31T20:54:00.000-08:00

Having more than one child is interesting.

If you just have one, it's easy enough to orient life around them. But you throw in a second one and things start to get interesting.

This last weekend several activities converged for Ryder: the Science Fair, the Grand Prix, a Cub Scout project, two baseball practices and one basketball game. With all of these things happening at once, Ryder's engagement calendar dictated the weekend for our family as a whole.

Since it's not "the norm", three of these activities are now over forever, and the other two should continue on with (relative) time management ease, us grown-ups knew not to fret.

Chase, on the other hand, clearly feared that Ryder's life had taken over his. No longer just an accessory along for the ride, Chase is paying attention. And taking notes. As he zipped around town with us and rolled with the punches, we realized anew that as time marches on, more and more consideration must be given to our second son.

Thankfully, smack in the middle of all of this activity and hustle, we had already made a plan. Freed of the training wheels, we had loaded Chase's two-wheel bike into the trunk. While Ryder and I waited around at the Science Fair, Daddy and Chase found a wide open parking lot.

Chase took to his two wheels and never looked back.

No hobbling, no uncertainty, just smiles of glee while his Dad ran full-out to keep alongside him. Fearless and brave, nothing much stops Chase.

Not even coming in second.

Taking Hits

2012-01-28T21:11:00.000-08:00

There is something about being a parent that makes you want to run interference.

Here and there, situations arise that are not ideal. It's the wrong style of classroom management, it's at the wrong time of day. The mix of kids isn't good, the adults aren't expecting enough. The adults are expecting too much, it's just too chaotic.

I often find that I want to adjust situations, change scenarios, explain preferences and contain situations.

Isn't it ever so unfortunate that life does not work that way?

We've been talking lately about how our style of parenting has had to change when it comes to our older son. No longer needing us to tell him how to behave, we just have to let him go out into his world and let the chips fall as they might. He absolutely knows how to handle himself, so now we have to let him choose to do so. If he makes a wrong move? Well, that's up to him too.

Recently struggles are being had with a bit of a "frienemy." Part friend, part enemy, the times are tough when things collide. Feelings have been hurt, unusual anger has bubbled to the surface, and we find Ryder struggling to navigate this relationship with his classmate, and now teammate. At his very core, Ryder longs to be friends with nearly everyone....so finding a "friendship" that comes with a side of teasing, name-calling and lots of trouble has caused more than it's share of confusion.

Every fiber of my being is inclined to rescue him. I want to call the little boy's mom, I want to fill-in his new coach, I want to advocate and explain.

I want to help him.

But instead I know that what I'm supposed to do is step aside. I have to let him struggle and figure it out, with nothing other than some gentle coaching, some affirmations and a whole lot of love. To intervene beyond that feels like stealing....this is his chance to learn how to handle someone that brings difficulty to his life.

So we force ourselves to sit back. Still vigilant, still watching.

But letting Ryder make all of the moves.

Chasing Chase

2012-01-19T21:43:00.000-08:00

While Ryder was off at school today Chase and I were looking at a totally "blank" day.

Not one thing on the calendar--no one to meet, no place to go, no errands on the list.

Even the laundry is caught up.

I do really badly on days without structure, so I woke up and decided in my mind to base the day on Chase. I dressed the both of us in cozy clothes, piled my hair on top of my head and went for it.

We played Trash Trucks. Then Monster Trucks. We drew. We used scissors. We played Play Do. We turned the lights off in the bathroom and punched little bulbs into our Lite Brite. We went to the library.

I had to take a few calls from work while we were eating lunch. As I chatted with customers and sorted their details, he spun around me and kept busy in the room. As I hung up with my last call, I looked around to realize that he had tied my chair to the table, which was tied to the armoire, which was tied to the train table, which was tied to the door, which was tied to the coffee table.

It's amazing what one can do with some leftover Christmas ribbon found in the junk drawer, isn't it?

Our morning and early afternoon passed so pleasantly that as I asked Chase to get his shoes on so that we could go pick up Ryder he burst right into tears.

"I stay here with you Mama! Let's NOT go!"

Indeed.

Savings Plan

2012-01-18T21:52:00.000-08:00

Chase is four years old and he needs some cash!

You see, he wants an Aircraft Carrier.

He's got several fighter jets on hand and all of the sudden realized that he needs a place to land them. No regular old airport will do.

So for the last several days he's been collecting pennies. He is finding pennies (and nickels and dimes and quarters) everywhere.

In the car. Under the seats. In the couch. In people's pockets. In the junk drawer. At the park. On the ground outside the grocery store. Outside Ryder's school.

Each time he find some more change to add to his stash, he collects it all, runs over to one of us, and with this shiny blue eyes all earnest and serious, he will say something like, "I find MORE pennies! You count. I finally have enough for my aircraft carrier!" He smiles hard, just certain that he finally has enough cash on hand for his beloved aircraft carrier.

He has $0.37.

And I'm so impressed by his tenacity.....so, I think I'm gonna hide $35.00 in the couch.

I can't wait for him to find it.

Furniture

2012-01-15T17:46:00.000-08:00

Every so often we consider the idea of purchasing "proper" furniture.

You know, something that is a step-up from Ikea.

But then, we remember....we have little boys.

And our particular little boys love nothing more than to make forts and "set ups" out of our furniture.

This one here is actually a "ship."

And I suppose you can tell in this photo who might be the captain.....

Gray Areas

2012-01-03T21:25:00.000-08:00

The problem with kids is that they are smart.

It seems that my children are able to smell a gray area about a mile away. If they sense my hesitation even slightly, they pounce.

And they pounce hard.

Around here we have gone screen-free during the school week. I realized awhile back that the vast majority of disagreements in our house were related somehow to a screen. What show would we watch? Could we watch another one? That show wasn't long enough! I wanted to play my DS! Could I play the computer?

Wah, wah, WAH!

The day we went screen-free, the arguments stopped. Literally, they were done the moment both boys realized the answer would be NO every single time.

Begin Christmas Break.

Philosophically, we decided that we would be pretty easy-going in terms of screens over the holidays. Given that we had a zillion things going on, we figured that the fellas wouldn't actually net much screen time.

Wrong.

Ryder is a genius at multi-tasking. He can talk, open presents, eat a pancake and ask for a drink all while playing Pokemon. Thanks to these skills, he clocked a fairly impressive number of hours mastering Steve Irwin Zoo Quest, various Pokemans and a fair amount of time "showing" Chase how to play Toy Story 3 for the DS.

End Christmas Break.

In the last 48 hours we have had at least three "discussions" about the DS and how much TV can be watched. Ryder has been extremely persuasive, and honestly, he nearly had me.

And he knew it.

When I started to hedge back towards our screen-free existence, oh MY did the balking begin. The fussing, the crying, the mean words.

As we drove home from work and Grandma's today, the gray turned right back into black and white. Ryder blinked, and he almost missed it.

But there it was.

After telling me he thought I was an Idiot Mother, he kicked the back of Chase's seat in the van and cried, wailing about how unfair it all was. We pulled into the garage, I clicked the button to open all of the doors, and out Ryder jumped.

As I unbuckled Chase from his car seat, Ryder ran out of the garage and I thought GREAT. It's gonna be like this???

And then there he was....walking back into the house, carrying the mail and a package to the counter.

"Sorry, Mom," he said. "I shouldn't have made such a big fuss. I'll make it up to you."

Again and again and again and again I am reminded that when Mama isn't sure, the kids will do their best to persuade. I must remind myself that when we find ourselves circling the same argument, to take the gray out of it...to find the black and white.

After a perfectly charming evening with my fellas, I know that it's true.

Apples to Apples

2011-12-31T21:03:00.000-08:00

I love eight year olds.

Old enough to have a sense of humor and the ability to reason, but young enough to maintain genuine sweetness. This combination is just about irresistable.

We've got a lot of extended family in town, and this afternoon a pile of us cousins were playing Sour Apples to Apples. Ryder joined in and his first turn came around. As per the rules of the game, he selected one of his green cards to start the game.

He chose Sexy.

We all laughed, and I said, "Ryder, what does sexy mean?"

"It means HOT!!" he says.

Oh. My. Gosh. We were dying, choking with laughter while Ryder sat back in his chair smiling sheepishly.

As we all pulled cards from our own hands that we best thought represented Sexy, we laughed even harder when he selected B.O as the winner.

B.O! Nothing says "Sexy" like Body Odor.

Eight year olds are awesome. They just are.

The Best Day

2011-12-05T19:18:00.000-08:00

Chase is a really, really busy little fella. It is not often that he opts to stop moving, so sometimes our very best chats happen while he is in bathroom.

Like most nights after dinner, tonight little Chase was sitting on the potty taking care of his business. Fresh from his bath, with his holiday footy pajamas in a pile at his feet, he was chatting to his brother. Clear out of the blue he makes an annoucement, "I'm ready to put God inside!"

Not totally listening, as I had been loading things into the washer and tossing books on beds for reading time, I poked my head into the bathroom. "What's that, C?" I say.

"I will put Jesus in my heart now!" he says.

"REALLY?!?" Ryder says.

"You want to?" I ask.

In typical Chase fashion, he boldly proclaims, "Dear Jesus...Thank you for my food, AMEN! THERE! It's DONE!", he says.

"No, no...", I said. "You just thanked Jesus for your food, silly! We already ate dinner," I smiled at him.

"Oh," he says.

And he tries again.

"Jesus. You come into me, please! AMEN! Look! Mama! Jesus is in my heart!"

Tears burst into my eyes as I looked down at my beaming, shiny, adorable son that had just accepted Jesus while going potty.

Ryder, who was in the bath, says, "Chase! Chase! This is the BEST day! We both have Jesus in our hearts!"

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Considering that our only three parenting goals are to have sons that love Jesus, love their Mom and Dad and love to read....well, we're nearly done.

Expectations

2011-11-16T20:50:00.000-08:00

I remember the day that we found out we were expecting a boy.

We were in the waiting room talking to another couple. Like us, they too had just found out they were expecting a son.

"Oh, won't it be fun to have a little guy to play Little League and watch football with.....oh I hope he won't want to collect bugs or sit and do puzzles...." I said. Yap yap yapping, so excitable and full of glee.

"Ugh!" the new dad next to us said. "My WORST NIGHTMARE would be a little boy that wanted to play sports!"

He silenced me. I couldn't believe it. I shook my head.

Ryder is 8 years old now, and lately, I am seeing him more for who he is, rather than who "I" was aiming for him to be. Frankly, who he IS far surpasses what I could have made up.

It's so, so humbling to sit back and watch a little person grow up. To have conversations that are feeling rather "equal", to be respecting who Ryder is and who HE wants to be--what he is interested in and what makes him happy.

Today he told me that he probably doesn't want to play baseball this season--he might want to do something with animals, he says.

I had to laugh.

If only I could call that dad from the waiting room....I wonder if he is cringing because his son wants to play baseball?

Ah, parenting. I love thee.

Girl Power

2011-09-20T21:30:00.000-07:00

Over the last couple of weeks, Ryder has begun to read for pleasure.

Ryder has always loved books, but he has loved being read to FAR MORE than he has loved reading on his own. So, as we have found him settled into the couch READING it's been rather shocking.

We went to the library this afternoon and after a little meeting with the Librarian (which was heart-breakingly sweet), he walked out with a huge stack of books about whales, dolphins and Star Wars. 11 books, to be exact.

As we loaded into the van to head home, I asked him what had gotten him so excited about reading his own books.

"I blame Nicole," he said.

"Nicole? Why Nicole?" I ask.

"Sometimes, when I want to play with her at recess, she is READING and won't come out to play. So, I got my own books to SHOW HER HOW IT FEELS," he says, face scrunched. "But then, Mom, I decided I like to read."

His smile was sheepish as I likely beamed back at him. My heart was singing of song of glory hallelujah for the power of Nicole--her selection of books over play likely turned my boy into a real reader.

I can't thank her enough.

An Open Letter

2011-09-14T18:56:00.000-07:00

Dear Girl Mom,

In case you hadn't noticed, boys are different than girls.

While your little girl has a gentler, softer nature, plays with dolls, willingly does her homework and reads chapter books about unicorns, my little boy does not.

My little boy saves the universe with his pretend weapons, crumbles up his homework in annoyance at its existence and his chapter books generally have something to do with mischief or farting.

Yes, I know farting is inappropriate. Yes, I know that guns (even fake ones) are violent. Yes, I know that my little boy is loud and a bit volatile.

Like I said, boys are different than girls.

They may be loud, but they still have quiet moments. They may be volatile, but they still snuggle up with their mamas at night. They might be a bit (or a lot!) rough and tumble, but they are still sensitive.

Definitely, my boy gets it wrong sometimes. He makes a bad choice here and there; he isn't as respectful as he should be, he makes mistakes.

But isn't that the idea of childhood? Make the mistakes and learn now, rather then later?

In the words of Frank Zappa, "The more boring a child is, the more the parents, when showing them off, receive adulation for being good parents--because they have a tame child-creature in their house."

My boy is not tame.

And I am still a good parent.

So let's make a deal:

When your daughter is 13 and throwing you attitude and dressing terribly and making you miserable, I will be sympathetic and I will observe you without judgement. I will know that despite any appearances, that your daughter is fantastic and that you are a great mother.

In exchange, could you observe my wild, restless, adorable little boy with that same patience and grace right now while he is young? Assume the best of us and know that we are working as hard as we can to guide, direct and raise our fantastic little fella?

I'd love it. And I think this sort of deal would work well for both of us.

Appreciate you considering it!

m.

10 Years

2011-09-11T14:34:00.000-07:00

A lot changes in ten years.

As I sit in my living room right now, it overflows. The last decade has brought two sons, two full-time jobs, our first "real house" with a mortgage. A minivan. A life busy enough that I need a calendar to keep it straight.

10 years ago it was different.

While the heinous tragedy of September 11 will always bring us back to a time of grief and suffering, I find myself thinking about how the whole of 2001 felt that way. Our first son was born in March of that year and died at birth, too small and too early to make it. In the weeks and months that followed we found ourselves mired in the grief of our own loss. So on that morning, as I watched the planes fly into the Twin Towers it felt more than surreal. I was totally overwhelmed with the pain that was already living in my own heart and simply could not take on the pain for those who suffered on that fateful day.

In the weeks leading up to this 10th anniversary I've been drawn only to the stories of children affected that day. Those that lost a parent, those that were born after their parent had died that day. They are all 10 years old, just as our first son would've been. Old enough to understand, young enough to still see things innocently. Well aware of their place in history, these kids have grown up with the knowledge that truly terrible things happen, and that out of those ashes healing can rise.

The last decade has taught me that too.

As we sit on the couch this afternoon, football game on, boys roaming the house making noise and causing havoc, I couldn't be more grateful.

What a difference a decade makes.

Kiss Count

2011-09-08T20:54:00.000-07:00

I think Chase might be a bit of a Mama's boy.

Ryder is a Daddy's boy, so I admit to being pleased that Chase is so inclined.

The other day, as I dropped him off with my Mom and Dad while I went to work, Chase stopped me as I headed for the door.

"Mom! I have to give you kisses. I give you FIVE kisses."

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

Laughing, I said "Chase! That was 27 kisses!"

We all laughed and off I went.

The next day, the same thing happened.

"Mom! I have to give you kisses. I give you FIVE kisses."

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

My own Mom and I laugh because we'd both counted, and it was 27 kisses! Again!

So I say, "All right Chase, I'll give you FIVE kisses!"

Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss. Kiss.

"MOM! That is NOT FIVE KISSES."

Oh, how I love him.

In Training

2011-08-31T22:10:00.000-07:00

As per Ryder's second grade teacher, he is to read for at least 20 minutes per day.

Luckily, we are able to read whatever Ryder wants---magazines, books, comics. Not surprisingly, we are spending our 20 minutes of reading time each day on Pokemon, Star Wars and Lego Magazine.

Tonight Ryder read to me from a book titled "Become a Pokemon Trainer". Since he is reading well and does not usually need any help with pronunciation, I typically lay back and shut my eyes as he rambles on and reads, allowing the words to come across my mind without me really "hearing" them.

But tonight Ryder caught my attention as he read the chapter describing the various Pokemon types:

"...You must consider the abilities of your Pokemon. Each Pokemon is unique and special. Treat it that way. If you use its particular talents, your Pokemon will grow stronger and happier.......The best Trainers are the ones who treat their Pokemon with kindness and respect."

Who knew? Being a Pokemon Trainer is strikingly similar to being a parent.

As the last few days have been a little rough between Ryder and I, this paragraph in the Pokemon book reminded me to remember that my children are both unique and special. As their mama, I am in a fantastic position to sort out their talents and grow their abilities...and when I work on that, they are both stronger and happier.

And so am I.

More Prayers with Chase

2011-08-31T21:59:00.000-07:00

Dear Jesus,

Thank you for my big, big ouchie that hurts.

Thank you for the earthquakes we have.

That's all.

Amen.

(Reminder to self: Thank God for the challenges I face...because healing and rebuilding usually follow......)

Prayer Time

2011-08-30T18:25:00.000-07:00

Dear Jesus,

Thank you for my nice day. Thank you for my Golden Gate picture. And my chair. And my table. And my trains and books.

That's all.

Amen.

(Oh how I love Chase.)

Overheard

2011-08-30T15:24:00.000-07:00

Caleb, rustling through his backpack for his leftover lunch, holds up a sheet of paper: "UGH! This girl Alisa is IN LOVE with me."

Ryder: "What is that?"

Caleb: "It's a map to her house! AND her phone number!!"

Ryder: "As IF you would EVER go to her house! FORGET THAT."

Caleb: "Yeah! Forget that!"

A ripping up of the paper insues. Upon arriving home, the offending ripped pieces recycled.

Sorry, Alisa. Bros before....well, you know.

Thrill Seeker

2011-08-25T16:34:00.000-07:00

Yes, this is three year old Chase on TOP of the monkey bars.

Thrilled at the sight of seven year old Ryder scaling the top of the bars, Chase insisted that he do it too.

I told him no way.

If he wanted to climb on top of the monkey bars, he had to do it himself.

Dadgumit, but he DID.

The smirk on his face was just *fantastic.*

A Request

2011-08-24T19:25:00.000-07:00

Ryder: "Hey, Mom? When could you turn me into an crocodile?"

Me: "Umm...never? If you were a crocodile, then you couldn't be my little boy."

Ryder: "Well, couldn't you just send me to heaven? Then, I could ask God to turn me into a crocodile."

Me: "But I want you to grow up and be a Daddy so that I can be a grandma. So...I am not going to send you to heaven anytime soon."

Ryder: "But Mom, if I went to heaven and God turned me into a crocodile, I could hang out with Steve Irwin."

Well, he's got me there.