A "Hair-ied" Halloween

My 8 year old is driving me crazy.  He's gone from an organized, well behaved, and responsible boy to a, well, an airhead.  And I know it's all because of Halloween and the candy consumption.  He was up late on Halloween night, sluggish the next day and didn't do his homework.  So he waited until this morning to do it, claiming he was too tired yesterday, and then pestered me while I was going through my rushed morning routine asking for help.  That's not going to happen in the morning, which is why "You're supposed to do your homework when you get home from school."

So he gets stuck on a problem about the United States flag.  But instead of looking it up he turned on the TV.  And then he brought his breakfast into the living room.  None of this is allowed.  And worse, he left the bag of markers on the sofa.  And, he didn't finish his breakfast and actually admitted that he was "too distracted by the TV."

Ughh!  I can't wait for the candy to be gone.  I can't blame him because I'm the one who let him go door to door collecting it.  Well actually it was my husband who insisted I get into the "spirit" of the holiday, so I tried.  I can't stand the whining and begging when I've tried to portion it and/or hide it.  So this time I said the heck with it, eat it all.  Hopefully it will be gone by the end of today and I won't have to cringe from picking up wrappers.

I don't know if I'm being controlling, impatient, totally annoyed, a good parent or a bad parent.  Just make it go away!

Oh, and he did something else:  last night he cut his own hair.  He came in to show me just before bed and I had to get up and do an emergency hair cut.  It's his worst look yet.  He cut his bangs off up to his forehead, so either I shave it when we have more time or hope that once the candy is gone and the wrappers picked up I can look at him with a smile and see him for the 8 year old boy that he is.

Halloween Score

Ninja Warrior

Sumo Wrestler

I was in a total panic yesterday looking for Halloween costumes for the boys.  I had put it off too long and there was nothing left in town and I wasn't about to pay $100 for mail order costumes.  I spent the whole afternoon picking up bits and pieces for costumes.  As I worked my way through the stores rummaging through the already worked over and already returned items, I hit the jackpot.  And for under $50.  (I should be excited about that?  Had I planned I could have done much better.)  Look of excitement on their faces when they saw the costumes?  Priceless.  And they made for a great Facebook post too.

It may seem like a nice thing to do, to visit an elderly relative with your 4 year old child, but it's not.   Especially when it involves going shopping.  My 85 year old aunt has no sense of time, moves like a snail, and is easily distracted.  Wait, I just described my son.  I thought he did well in the store as we shopped for two hours visiting every single department, riding the elevator, and ending up in the toy section at 4pm without having any lunch.  But my aunt claims that all the clerks were giving me the evil eye waiting for me to discipline my guy for his whining and outbursts.  I thought they were looking at her and sympathizing with me for having to wait with him.

"He walks all over you.  You spoil him rotten.  Why don't you discipline him?" screeched my aunt when we finally got in the car.  I was tempted to point out that they have a lot in common, but instead immediately changed the subject while repeating in my head the "Emergency 4:00pm Mantra:"  McDonald's and Martini, McDonald's and Martini.

Can you hear me now? Arguing in front of the Children

Over the weekend I became furious with my husband.  I asked to talk to him on the porch so my son wouldn’t hear us and he said no.  Stunned, I let loose.  I became an insanely angry person screaming at the top of my lungs dropping f-bombs with no going back.  I got him outside.  But then realized the whole neighborhood, as well as my 7yo son, could hear us so I brought it back inside.  My son scampered away and hid on the stairs.  We went at it, or I should say I went at it for a few minutes.  When it was clear I wasn’t getting anywhere I finally stopped and opted to go for a walk.  I had to come back in to get my glasses when I overheard my son say, “Wow is mom mad.”  To which my husband mumbled something with the words “yeah” and “whatever.”

First thought on my walk:  Yeeks, what have I done to my son.  This isn’t good. 

Followed by:  Where did that extreme anger come from?

All the while wondering:  What’s it going to take to get my point across with my husband?

I’ll start with the extreme anger.  A friend had to explain this to me since it’s completely out of character for me to scream.  My husband did something that really hurt me.  My friend reasoned that with extreme pain comes yelling, as in if someone steps on your toe you say ow, but when they stomp on your foot you scream to get them to stop.  So I was essentially trying to get my husband to see just how much pain he had caused. 

But of course it was falling on deaf ears.  No one is going to listen to a crazed person.  I had tried other ways before the screaming incident to explain to my husband how upset I was but he didn’t seem to get it.  So now I just have to accept that he is incapable of understanding my emotional duress.  That’s a pretty depressing thought but it should help to cut down on the yelling.  This problem has no quick fix.

As for my son, what sort of example are we setting for him?  Clearly not a good one.  My husband and I don’t fight well.  Most of the time we’ll go to a neutral place to hash it out.  Rarely have we yelled at each other in front of the children.  My husband will clam up and go into the “man cave” when he knows something is up, which makes it difficult to even have a “healthy” argument for the kids to see.  And now that I’m thinking of it one time in front of the boys he called me an unacceptable word.  So we are now on strike three for being positive role models.

What is a healthy fight anyway?  I certainly didn’t reach adulthood with this type of knowledge.  All my father ever did was yell and he scared the bejesus out of me.  I never saw my parents make up or apologize.  My mother has dementia now and I’m pretty sure that’s part of the reason why.  She carried an extreme amount of stress for far too many years.  So my take is that a healthy, fair fight is when two people communicate, without calling each other names, about what is on their mind.  Not the obvious, “You didn’t take out the garbage again and I’m really mad,” but more of a respectful “I know you’re busy and domestic matters aren’t a priority for you, but I need you to stay on top of the garbage like we agreed because it’s starting to smell and I saw ants yesterday.  I have so much to do in the morning already.  Is there another way to work it back into your schedule?”

Yesterday I stumbled upon this gem for getting conflict out of marriages called the Policy of Joint Agreement:  “Never do anything without an enthusiastic agreement between you and your spouse.”  Simple as that!  And if you can’t agree, maybe you shouldn’t be together.

Imagine if my sons saw me and my husband taking preemptive measures to avoid conflict, asking each other things like “Does that work for you?” and communicating our basic needs on a regular basis.  That’s mind boggling but I’m intrigued.  I really don’t like to fight. I don’t like the added stress on the boys not to mention me, the time lost ruing over the matter, and having to concede because I can’t get my point across (which is usually the case.)  And the actual headaches.

But we’re all only human and things change all the time.  Conflict is inevitable.  The best you can do when an argument is brewing is to keep it civil.  In an article from the MSNBC website in 2009 about a study published in the Journal of Child Psychiatry and Psychology: 

In the new study, researchers turned to interviews with teachers as well as parents to determine the impact conflict was having on the kids. In families where parents’ interactions were more constructive, the kids became more psychologically healthy over time. They were also more likely to show “pro-social” behaviors.

“They tended to be friendly to other kids, to be empathetic when others were upset, and to show concerns for moral issues and for the fairness and wellness of others,” Davies says.

There’s my goal.  When I checked on my son after my walk, I told him I was sorry he had to see and hear all that and asked if he was okay.  He replied, “Yeah, I’m fine.  Just don’t argue like that again like you did last year on Christmas Eve.”  A sad reminder (the other time I raised my voice for all the neighbors to hear) but at least I’ve got a little time to work on getting things right with my husband before we’ve done permanent damage on our boys.

Touch

Primo got an iPod Touch for his birthday.  He's in third grade.  It's been 6 weeks and so far so good.  Every so often he gets to buy a paid app, he only emails immediate family, he's not on Facebook although my husband somehow sent him a request which pops up every few weeks, and he's figured out Netflix, but I have the controls cranked so he can't watch anything too bad.

But he does this odd thing when he is watching a show:  He curls up under a blanket and when he's in his room it's usually dark.  It's weird.  All I can think is, "What is he doing under there?"  I know it's an eight year old thing, probably some later version of a snuggle, or maybe even a cry for a snuggle.  Kind of cute, kind of creepy.  A reminder to hug him more I suppose.

The Invisible Stepladder

Secondo, my 4yo, is very adept at making his own PB&Js.  He climbs up on the counter, stands to get the bread out of the bread box on top of the refrigerator or from the freezer, and then plops down and makes a sandwich.  A few weeks ago he fell off the counter and hit the floor but he wasn't hurt.  We've done what we can to get him to use the stepladder and sometimes he does.  But not all the time.

Last week he had a friend over and he again climbed up on the counter.  I over heard him telling his friend, "I'd use the invisible stepladder but it got chopped in half by the invisible ax."

My Year in Review

It’s been a little over a year since I quit my job and put the family in endless financial stress.  Fortunately the kids are too young to understand the whole income thing and my husband has finally come around.  My biggest question is “How the heck did I do it all?” and my biggest fear is having to go back and do it again.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m still working, but I’m self employed and have too much of an entrepreneurial spirit to go back and work for anyone else full time again.  If I can help it.  Now I get to manage the mornings the way I need to without the added stress of being in an office at a certain time for whatever reason.  I also get to drop everything and be with my kids at 3pm and take part in their activities, even if it’s just to drop them off somewhere.  I could do that before but I resented having to account for it.  I guess I don’t like being told what to do.

The “no money” thing is getting really old and I’ve lost a little bit of sleep worrying about it but that doesn’t help much.  The upside of a tight budget is that we don’t have as much junk around the house as we used to and when the kids get presents, they’re really excited.  A night out to a restaurant or event is a real treat.  And I don’t waste money getting them to try a new activity only to have them drop out midway.

Also, because I live in the North Country, it’s okay to wear the same thing everyday.  I haven’t bought myself anything new since my birthday a year ago!  That is simply amazing.  At first I was a little depressed, but now it’s become sort of a contest to see how long I can hold out.

But I didn’t quit my job just because I wanted to start my own business.  It was more of a priority thing.  I also saw my youngest boy slipping away and knew I had to find a way to spend more time with him.  Not so much with him physically, but on him so that I was more focused to his needs.  For whatever reason, he’s nothing like his older brother.  I took a lot for granted with the first one!  It’s taken me almost the whole year to get to understand “Baby Hulk” and retrain myself in parenting.  The crux of it is that he doesn’t transition easily and I have the patience of, well, a 4 year old, which would be him.  But I’ve come a long way!

I knew things were going to have to change when one day in spring I couldn’t get him in the car to get the kids to school on time.  I had rushed him through the morning and he simply was not ready to leave.  I was exhausted and lost my cool.  I started screaming and went out to the car and backed out of the driveway.  I guess I saw that as a “Mom’s Time Out.”  When I came to my senses to check on him he was hiding behind a curtain bawling his eyes out.  I felt like crap.  How could I have done that to him?  He was traumatized.  Nothing better for the the development of a 3 year old brain than to add significant stress to his already tender noggin.  He calmed down, asked for whatever it was that he wanted that I just hadn’t paid attention to before, and got in the car.  It took me months to figure out the combination of events that made it all happen.  It wasn’t an easy fix!

Now that he’s almost 5 life is much easier and he’s really lots of fun.  Much like his big brother when I decided I had to have another.  Everyday is “What Happens When I Do This?” and I know if I was still working full time there would be very little humor in his “experiments.”  And I’m no where near as strict with him as I had been.  I’m sure there are some who may think I’m a pushover.  But I know with this guy just what’s going to work and where my responsibility lies in the problem.  He’s big, he’s loud, and he’ll do anything to keep up with his big brother.  Try managing that!  I’m glad I took that psychology course as a prerequisite 3 years ago, not realizing it would have such practical implications.

As much as I love him, or perhaps it’s because I love him, I can now focus on earning enough money to keep him in school full time instead of just 3 days.  For him and me the structure is much better.  Now that we’ve gotten to know each other better, we can have our separate lives.  He loves school and I love having him there! 

Will our slow house remodel ever get done?  Can I keep trying to cut back on groceries even while the boys are eating more?  Will the cost of organic food ever come down?  Will I make enough to retire and not be a burden on my kids?  Who knows.  I can keep trying for the American dream but the only way I know for sure that I’m going to achieve it is to accept that I’ve been living it all along.

John Fuller Cafeteria - Go or NoGo?

Just off Main Street in North Conway is a brick building where the younger set goes for lunch.  A young man I know well (that would be my son) has been insisting that I don’t need to make him a school lunch because they take care of him there.  “Cafeteria food?” I replied.  “Wouldn’t you rather bring your lunch?  I’m not spending $2.50 a day to have you not eat your food.”  It turns out what he wasn’t eating was my homemade lunch.  I needed to know more.

I made a date with the young man to join him for the mid-day meal.  He was reluctant to agree, for after all I am a much older woman.  And he already had plenty of people to sit with.  But he gave in when I promised it would only be this one time.  Little did we know that on that particular day it was also “Read Aloud Lunch.”  Our seating was upgraded from the noisy cafeteria to the cozy tables in the library.  What a treat!

Upon arrival, I saw his group getting ready to enter the cafeteria.  I tried to cut in line to stand with him but I ended up two boys back.  The lunch ladies looked a little startled when they saw me but I got the special “grown up” treatment when they offered me two tacos instead of the usual one taco.  The line moved fast and we were ushered to the library for our special lunch day.

My table companions were 5 boys and 2 girls.  The boy on my right had brought his own lunch.  I was a little concerned that he was spending too much time working on his juice box and not eating his egg salad sandwich, but when I reminded him in my most motherly tone to “Eat your sandwich” he promised he would.  Shortly after he put the juice box down but left the straw pointing down.  And even though it would have seemed he had already drank it all after 5 minutes of playing with it, he still managed to spill juice on his pants.  I promptly handed him my napkin and turned the straw up.  Mother’s instinct.

The rest of the group ate their lunch quietly and quickly.  All the kids’ trays were finished clean while I was still on my brown rice.  Yes, brown rice!  And that’s not all:  At the beginning of the cafeteria line there was a sign announcing the fresh vegetables of the day from the school garden.  On that particular day it was green peppers and tomatoes, which were a natural with the taco.  Brown rice, fresh veggies?  They didn’t have that when I was in school.  There was an option for each portion, including fresh or canned fruit, milk or juice, and choice of entree of the day.  There was even a choice of hard or soft shell for the taco.  I don’t know if there was anything organic but the milk did state “no artificial growth hormones.”

It was an absolute joy to join my son for lunch and dine with his friends.  The meal was delicious, the kitchen spotless, the service fast and friendly, and the atmosphere surprisingly calm.  I could have sat longer with my lunch companions but they left me for recess.  Go Play! North Conway gives the John Fuller Cafeteria a Go!

Story Land - Where My Fantasy Died

Here’s what I’d like to see happen when I tell the boys we’re going to Story Land:  They eat their breakfast without yelling at each other, brush their teeth, get dressed, and get in the car.  For the 10 minute car ride, they say things like, “I’m so excited to go to Story Land!” and “What a great idea, thanks mom!”  We park, skip through the tunnel, they wait for everyone to catch up.  The ticket line goes smoothly and in we go.  Once inside the park, they take turns at picking out the next ride and wait patiently getting on and off.  The lunch I packed is delicious and they take time to use the bathrooms before we continue.  You get the picture.

Here’s what really happened:  Secondo threw his cereal spoon at Primo while eating breakfast and Primo screamed at him for the rest of the morning.  Neither brushed their teeth even though they both said they did.  As usual, Secondo wouldn’t get dressed and sat in the play room going through all the toys in the drawers.  “I don’t want to go to Story Land,” he claimed.  Primo begged him to get ready but it didn’t work.  I finally got him dressed and we headed for the car.  Both boys were wearing their crocs so I ran in to get better shoes and had them change.  I backed out of the driveway and realized I left the lunch on the counter.  And the water bottles.

We make it out of the driveway at last at which point Primo starts yelling at Secondo again and winds up to hit him.  I remind them that a trip to Story Land is a privilege and not a right and they need to behave if they want to get there.  That settles them down for a little bit.  About halfway there they started arguing over which ride they wanted to go on first.  Again, I reminded them that we’ll hit all the good ones and they shouldn’t worry.  Also that it’s not a contest, that it’s about having fun, gosh darn it. 

Once the car stopped in the parking lot, they both swung open their doors and ran toward the tunnel.  I had to yell at them to wait a minute while I got out.  We made it through the tunnel and the ticket office without injury.  They both had to have their own maps, which moments later I had to carry.

Both boys played in the little kids’ section for a while but Primo got bored and wanted to leave.  It took another 15 minutes to lure Secondo out but when we thought we were good to go to the next ride, I couldn’t find him.  So Primo and I went back and searched for him.  He was hiding in the mushroom house.  Fortunately.  After a brief scolding and review of the rules we continued.

We hit a few more rides without incident and found a table to sit at for lunch.  The sandwiches were a little squished and we all said “Yuk” but then Secondo wouldn’t eat his.  I broke down and offered to get him a hot dog.  Naturally Primo wanted one too.  I sort of wanted one too.  We all had hot dogs instead.  When we finished they started on begging for a soda.  I was very firm and explained that I only had so much money and if they wanted ice cream on the way out they couldn’t get a soda.  Try getting a 4 year old to understand the logic of patience.  He screamed for 10 minutes and I was getting a headache so I broke down and got them sodas.

The rest of the afternoon was predictable.  We had fun as always on the Bamboo Chutes and bought the picture for our annual collection.  We survived the line for Dr. Geyser’s Remarkable Raft Ride and got soaked without too much of an issue.  But the long line for the Antique Cars almost did us in.  Primo was all wound up and kept climbing on the rail divider and Secondo lost it and whined the whole time.  I even encouraged them to watch the televisions.  Sometimes the lines seem to last forever.

We skipped past getting another “Driver’s License” and were in the home stretch.  But no, not even close.  They both wanted ice scream.  I did too admittedly.  I explained that we couldn’t get ice cream because we used our budgeted cash on the sodas at lunch.  When it became clear that there was no getting Secondo out of the park without an ice cream, I then had to explain that we needed to find an ATM Machine to get cash to pay for it.  He didn’t understand.  Or maybe he didn’t really care.  He just wanted the ice cream, NOW. 

As Primo and I sat waiting for Secondo to calm down so we could find the ATM, I reflected on what I could have done better to make the day go smoother.  It would have been helpful to have another adult with me.  It would have been better to leave on boy at home and have the other bring a friend and make two separate visits.  I should have carried enough cash on me to cover all the potential expenses and not just the necessary ones.  I should not have had a second child.  I should stop reading so many parenting articles and hire an in-house professional.  I should show more patience and understanding and be a better parent.  This is all his father’s fault.  This is all my fault.   No, it’s my parents fault.  I’m never bringing them anywhere again.  Did I bring any tissues, I’m going cry. 

Finally Secondo started talking and we walked over to get more cash.  We sat quietly on  the bench and ate our ice cream.  When we were done, we left the park, the boys ran through the tunnel, yelled for me to unlock the car, and we drove home. 

I passed the boys off to their father who was now home from work and took myself on a bike ride to clear my head.  Such Zen opportunities in my life!  How did I get to be so deserving?  What I really mean is, how do other parents do it???

Domestic Dogma

How is it that when my husband and I were first married the household chores were 50/50 and now they’re more like 90/10 in his favor.  Who am I kidding, I know exactly what happened.  In the beginning, he was a different person.  He folded his own laundry, sometimes we’d even fold together.  We each had dinner duty 3 nights a week and one night we’d go out or order take out.  I vacuumed, he mowed.  I took the trash out, he brought it to the curb.  I was inside, he was outside.  We had separate bank accounts and a joint one for the household bills which was pretty much on auto pay.  Domestic bliss.  Of course back then, we were both earning more than we do now and we didn’t have any children to take care of.  We also had the same work hours, same pay, same goals.  A lot has changed in 10 years.  So much for my feminist beliefs.

Now I’m a work at home mom (WAHM) and my husband puts in about 50 hours a week.  Which he does by choice and truly likes his work.  He leaves before the rest of us are up so I have morning duty with the kids most days of the week.  I’ve been at home for almost a year now but it’s just recently that he’s accepted I actually do work.  Must have something to do with money finally coming in.  I do all the cooking, dishes, laundry, cleaning, and grocery shopping.  I also go to the transfer station, shop for the household items, and take care of the bills.  In his defense, he’s the handiest person I’ve ever known and if something breaks he’s on it and he’s very good.  And he did finally clean out the basement this spring.  He makes an excellent apple pie and he’s in charge of the BBQ.  He’s tried to go grocery shopping but he doesn’t stick to the list.  And he’s banned from laundry.

In truth, I’m fine with the arrangement.  Household chores are a great distraction when you’re working at home.  I’ve always been a multitasker so it’s nothing to do the laundry, get the kids out the door, and write a blog.   If I didn’t have to make dinner I’d keep on writing.  And I like listening to music when I clean up after.  Grocery shopping gets old, but my limited budget forces me to be creative.  And I don’t have enough money to shop for anything else so that’s one less task to bother with.  I’m not a huge fan of making the trip to the transfer station but I only go about once a month and we compost so there’s not a lot of smelly trash hanging around.  In an odd way, I feel that I’ve achieved a level of success to be able to stay at home and in fact be the domestic engineer I’d only heard about.  On the other hand, I’ve turned into the stereotype I fought so hard against in my early adult years.

What concerns me now is the lesson I’m teaching my boys.  By seeing me in all my domestic joy will they assume the same roles my husband and I did?  When they were born, I worked hard not to let them fall into the gender trap of boys playing with trucks and guns and being so physical.  I soon learned that it truly is genetic and not socialized.  Why don’t they just teach that in school and put an end to all the questioning?  Now, I know that boys and men can be domesticated.  But people also learn by example.  What if they one day secretly harbor the idea that housework is “women’s work.”  I have this horrible image of sitting at the dinner table with my family and my father saying, “Nancy, I need a fork.”  To which my mom would get up and get him one.  God forbid my husband talk to me like that.  At least we don’t have that degree of sexism going on.

I suppose as long as my husband and I are okay with our household work division then that’s all that matters.  As for the boys, I’ve got them on a chore chart for good citizenship and am training them in all facets of domestic life.  I’ve started daydreaming about the day when they’ll vacuum and do their own laundry.  And make dinner.  What a bonus!  Even as I write this my oldest is mowing the lawn with the push mower.  It’s quite the zigzag design.

Wild Wild Back Yard

Primo, my 7 year old, has taken to hitting Secondo, my 4 year old.  Sometimes it’s provoked, other times he's mad he didn't get his way, and then there's the completely random bop.  I'm not sure what he's so angry about but I hope this is a short-lived phase.  I know “boys will be boys” but that doesn’t make it acceptable.  It's been going on a whole week now so a more strategic plan is in order.  Obviously what I've done so far hasn't worked.  Here are the approaches I've tried:

1.  Ignore It and It Will Go Away
As a rule I don't like to get involved in the boys playing together.  I prefer to have them work things out on their own.  Until it gets harmful.  Which it's pretty close to being.

2.  Fear of God
No, not sending them to Sunday School, although that’s not a bad idea.  This is when I have my husband step in and use his loud deep man voice to let them know we're watching and it's not acceptable.  This also can scare the neighbors into being better behaved.

3. Kinder, More Gentler Approach
"Secondo, tell Primo that you don't like it when he hits you and that it hurts."  As if.  I've even tried to put all the attention on Secondo so that Primo won't reap any benefit from his actions.

4.  Old School
Sending Primo up to his room for the afternoon and threatening to cancel the dinner party we were supposed to go to that night.  Since I would have to carry him up there and there's no way I'm missing dinner at my friend's house, this is a lame threat.

5.  Attachment Parenting
Having a heart to heart with Primo on what's bothering him and is there anything going on that we don't know about.  This is most effective when the child in question is willing to talk.

6.  Paranoid Parenting
Is he watching too much James Bond?  What games is he playing on the computer?  Well, it turns out he has been playing some pretty aggressive games so I cranked up the parental controls and put a timer on the TV and at least now the Screen Time problem has been addressed.

7.  Denial
“He hit you?  Are you sure?  I didn't see anything.  It's going to be all right, get back out there and play.  And stop ratting on your brother.”  Poor Secondo.

8.  Tiger Mom
“Get in your room and study.”  Or, “What are you doing outside?  Get back in there and practice the piano.”  I can’t yell enough to make Primo obey.

9.  Unschooler
Let Primo deal with the natural consequences.  There’s no doubt in my mind that one of these days Secondo is going to wind up and pop him a good one.  Until then, I’ll keep a check on the little guy and try giving big brother more love and affection.  I should add that this is my interpretation of how an Unschooler would handle disciplinary action and not in any way sanctioned by the Unschoolers.

10.  Time Out
Doesn’t work.  Unless it’s for me the parent.  I love time outs.  Take me away!

It’s not that I use an official list of ways to solve a problem.  First there are the programmed reactions from my childhood, which never quite go away.  Then after some thought I move into a more modern approach.  Depending on my mood and sleep-deprivation level it could be any one of the above or a combination.  After reading through list now, in hindsight, I like the Unschooler approach.  The only way Primo is going to learn is from the consequences of his actions and it’s not really something I can control.  I can explain, beg, bribe, threaten, punish, and yell at him to no end but I can’t make him listen.  I can however provide him with good examples, love, support, and encouragement.  And maybe I’m not always doing that.  Crisis is opportunity!  Primo’s hitting, as awful as it is, is perhaps just another way for him, the child, to keep me as his parent in check.

Here's what happened:  On Monday they went back to school and it was  a decent week of behavior.  Of which I had nothing to do with.  The next weekend I spent time with each boy separately and they got along better.  And then, on a really crazy whim, I bought them each a foam pellet blaster gun and they had a field day.  First there was the element of surprise:  “Mom bought us guns?”  Believe me, I even surprised myself.  Primo complained that it wasn't a name brand but admitted he liked it anyway. Let’s face it, boys like guns and perhaps this was a more structured, safer way to work out the week’s frustrations and the weekend high energy level.   And no one lost an eye.  My husband asked why I didn’t get him one too.

For more on boys and guns, go to:  My Boys Like Shootouts.  What's Wrong With That? by Jonathon Turley for the The Washington Post.

From Tiger Mom to Unschooler

What's happening to me?  I’m at two extremes, one a Tiger Mom and the other an Unschooler.  The Tiger Mom is known for a severely strict parenting style with lots of yelling and controlling, and the Unschooler doesn’t just keep her kids home from school, she doesn’t school them at all.  Life is learned in the present moment.

First my Tiger Mom moment:  The day after pulling my son from the lacrosse league, I acquired a piano and then remembered that I have a violin under my bed.  I've become a Tiger Mom with a "No sports, and piano and violin lessons only."  It's all a total coincidence! 

Why no lacrosse?  He's just too young.  It's a big commitment, financially and time-wise, and he might just as well be throwing a ball in the back yard.  He wasn't the least bit upset when I told him he wouldn’t be on the team anymore.  As it is, now he can go back with swim lessons and use the extra time to learn to ride a bike too.  Once we cover the basics and he's more understanding of what it means to be on a team, then he can go back into lacrosse.  I have to admit if money wasn't an issue, I probably would have let him play.  I suppose it's just as stressful to have too many options as it is to make a hard decision.

The piano was a complete fluke.  A friend posted on Facebook that her piano was up for grabs and I got it.  I've thought about having one but didn't think it would materialize.  It needs a tune up and I can't possibly afford lessons, but at least it will be visible and spark some interest.  I'll find a "how to play" book at the library in the interim.
And then there's my dream of all of us playing the violin.  I played the viola when I was a kid.  I sold it after college.  My brother-in-law gave me his violin a few years ago.  I practiced a little but now with two children it's not a priority.  I know how hard it is to practice everyday and I didn't even take lessons until 6th grade, so I'm not putting any pressure on the boys to start yet.  We'll get there.

What’s all this about Unschooling?  I’m becoming obsessed with it ever since Dayna Martin, the Unschooler, was filmed for an Oprah show at the Children’s Museum.  The Unschooler doesn’t have to put up with structure and schedules and feeding and studying and practice.  The whole no-school thing aside, imagine not having to get the kids ready in the morning and out the door at a certain time, dressed, fed, and prepared for the day.  What a treat!  We can all stay in our pajamas all day.  If they want to read, they’ll pick up a book.  If they’re hungry, they’ll eat.  Well, the truth is,  mine do sometimes stay in their pajamas all day and I do let them eat whatever they want.  But that’s because I only have food that’s good to eat.  The less I monitor their diet, the more self sufficient they’re becoming, I hope.  I’m pretty sure that’s an Unschooler belief as well.  But I don’t let them do their own grocery shopping, as the famous Unschooling mom does.

But what really hit close to home with the Unschooler was her latest blog about Freedom of Speech.  There’s a picture of her kids giving the photographer the finger.  Here at my house we’ve had a onslaught of the f-bomb.  I’m not sure what’s going on in Primo’s life but he seems to be needing attention.  And Secondo will copy anything he does.  So on any given day I’ve had both of them swearing at me.  My first thought is to instill the fear of god in them with my loudest yell/threat/evil eye ever, Tiger Mom style, but my rational mind says to ignore it and let it pass which is close to the Unschooler “school of thought.”  I know he knows it’s wrong to use those words so I’m hoping he’ll figure it out on his own, lest he find a button and continue to drive me insane.  Plus, I swear on occasion.  For which I usually apologize and acknowledge that it’s socially unacceptable, hoping they’ll catch on.

So yeah, I suppose there’s a little Unschooler in me too.  From the hours of 4 - 6pm only and sometimes on weekends.  And snow days.  And I’m looking forward to Unschooling during our  summer vacation.  As for the Tiger Mom approach of reacting however one feels, I reserve the right to yell in the 15 minute time slot from 8:45am-9:00am if we haven’t made it out of the house to get to school on time,  and again from 3:30-3:45pm if they come home from school and all hell breaks loose.  Other than that, no more than once a month during a brief period of irritability, for which I do my best to warn everyone.

To Stay or Not to Stay

I'm sitting in the school cafeteria while my son has lacrosse practice in the gym.  For the record there’s still snow on the ground so they can’t practice outside.  Most of the young players' parents are also in the gym watching. "Why?" I have to ask.  Don't they have other things to do?  What's the protocol for when your children play sports?  Are you supposed to go to the practices too?  I thought it was just the games.  The reason why I'm still in the building is because the ride home is 15 minutes and by the time I get home I'd just have to come back.  Plus it's wonderfully quiet in this empty cafeteria.  I have just enough time to write a blog and do some research.  Just not on Facebook because it's blocked which is a good thing for an elementary school I suppose.

So why do I not feel the least bit guilty for not watching his practice?  From a blog post from Sports Girls Play: 

Assuming your child is in a training situation which is healthy, safe and well supervised (which it should be), I don’t see any benefit to staying and watching every one of your child’s practices. Here’s why:

• As a parent, if you watch every practice you are less likely to see the gradual improvements that your child is achieving every day. Stay and watch once a month or so and you will be amazed with your daughter’s progress.
• Your child needs to learn to interact with other adults and her teammates without looking to you for approval/disapproval at every turn. For most children, the lure of looking out into the audience for parental approval after every turn is just too great.
• Certainly you have something more productive to do with your time – take a walk, go work out, do errands, or better yet, carpool so you only have driving duties one way giving you more time to do other tasks.

I totally agree.  I feel completely confident in the coach and the supervision my son is receiving.   My son knows I care or I wouldn't have signed him up in the first place.  And sadly I need some quiet time to write, but a walk would be nice since it's warmed up a little today.  But anyway.  As it is I can hear the yelling from the next room.  I hope that wasn't my son.

So why do parents stay?  Is it part of the helicopter thing?  Do they think it's the right thing to do?  I can see the argument that by sticking around you are showing your support.  And at this young elementary school age the child might still need to see a familiar face.  Also, if the coach needs assistance, someone is there.  And maybe some people just like to watch for the sake of sport.  I suppose we all have our own view.  Meanwhile, I've signed up to substitute teach at my son's school.  Purely professional reasons, but in my son’s mind, that's about 100 times worse than attending a one hour practice!

Runaway Board

Yesterday afternoon, in perfect spring skiing conditions, my 7yo son and I went snowboarding for the first time this season.  I'm okay but not good enough to give him a lesson.  So I had his older half-sister come with us to instruct him.  And help me too in case I forgot anything.  What a blast.  Every step is a process.  Just getting to the lift took awhile.  He wanted to push with his foot in front and kept falling.  We asked to slow down the lift to get on, just in case.  He was pretty confident on the ride up.  We warned him that getting off the lift is the hardest part of snowboarding.  When the time came, he almost made it but fell just past the ramp.  That was okay.  We moved him over and got him ready.

I wasn't much help in his first few turns since I could barely make mine.  It was a long trip down the South Slope of Cranmore but the snow was soft and the sun was hot and I didn't mind a few rests in a snowbank.  It's hard to watch anyone, let alone your son, do a face plant but he made it up each time and kept trying.  I didn't hear any complaints from him and his sister was still smiling when we got to the bottom of the trail, so we dragged him back up again. 

This time he made it off the lift in style.  I didn't bother to wait for them and went on ahead.  I was about halfway down and stopped to see how they were doing.  Lo and behold he was right behind me.  Amazing progress!  We had time for one more run so we did it again but this time decided to shuffle over 2 trails to our destination.  Well, traversing on a flat surface on a board isn't easy.  I gave up and took my board off and walked over.  When I saw my son struggling I told him to do the same. 

And this is why you don't take your board off on a trail:  It got away from him and shot down through the Terrain Park.  That's not good. He was a little panicked but his sister was on it and reunited him with his board about halfway down the trail.  It's never good to lose your board but the terrain park is the worst place for it.  Some guys were filming jumps and were camped out where the board landed.  They were a bit authoritative about safety, as if we didn't know, but no one was hurt.

I should not have been boarding in the Terrain Park myself but as a mother of course I went after my son.  At the top I had to ask two guys to move because I didn't have enough room to navigate a turn.  When I got to the guys filming I told them my plight and they directed me out of harm's way.  How embarrassing.  I don't think I looked too goofy going down.  And how many moms snowboard with their kids anyway?  That's got to count for some little bit of coolness.

We called it a day but of course my son was loving it and wanted to take another run.   That's a good sign.  My little boy is a knuckle dragger!  Hopefully next weekend I'll get my husband out there with us. 

Setting Boundaries

My 7yo son has been hitting everyone lately.  I'm assuming it's lately, but who knows if it's just now he's getting caught.  There are 3 "issues" with this.  First, the phone call from school.  Second is the sleepover, snow day visitor, and computer game influence.  Third is the punishment.

The phone call from his teacher couldn't have come at a better time.  My husband and I were driving back from a nice day in Portland, very relaxed and energized.  I heard the information on voice mail first because my phone didn't actually ring.  Which is good because it gave me time to process.  It takes me a little bit of time to think things through.  In the past I would have reacted in some form of shock, denial, anger, shame, etc, but in keeping with my New Year's Resolutions I remained calm.  I returned the phone call and got the news that he's been sent to Student Support two times in three days for hitting.  The teacher didn't actually see the incidents and was simply relaying information.  Since it happened on the playground, we concluded with a "boys will be boys" summation.  But that's pretty much what I've vowed to never accept in raising my boys to be respectful.

I told my husband all the news.  His quick response was "No more sleepovers.  No more computer."  I didn't agree.  I know that the chaos earlier in the week from playing with 2 wild friends has greatly influenced his latest behavior, but taking away privileges doesn't address the problem.  He's always going to have wild friends in his life so I'd rather he learn from the experience earlier than later.  And I will always have to contend with the computer so that too needs to be addressed rather than taken away.  I want to know why he thinks it's acceptable to hit someone and if he can come up with a better way to handle his frustration.  I'm learning to accept that males will always be in some sort of power struggle but I don't think it's okay to act out when the mood strikes.  When I catch my son "wrestling" with his friends in the house it makes me nuts.  Go outside!  There's a time and a place for everything and the living room is not one of them.  And sneaking a punch at your little brother for whatever reason simply is not acceptable.  So now I just need to figure out how to change this.  I'm pretty sure it's not going to happen in one week.

When my 7yo got home from school I asked the usual "How was your day?" not sure what to expect.  He actually mentioned the Student Support incident but was a little defensive.  "It wasn't my fault," he immediately added.  I replied "Fault, or no fault, you don't hit anyone.  It's about respecting other people's boundaries."  Try explaining that to a 7yo.  He looked at my cross-eyed.  "Honey, it's like this:  When you force your feelings or in your case your fist on someone, you're bulldozing them.  Um, you're plowing them over as it they're dirt and not human."  He seemed to understand.  I continued, "On the other hand, if someone came after you with a fist, I wouldn't expect you to just stand there and take it.  What do you think would be the best thing to do?"  "Hit him back," he replied.  "Try again," I said.  "Tell an adult," he said.  "Well, that's good but isn't there a middle ground?" Oops, I had to explain middle ground.  "Isn't there one more option, like using words?" I asked.  "I would tell him to stop it and walk away," he replied.  Bingo.  Now how do I ingrain this in his brain?

And now the punishment.  When I asked my son what he thought his punishment should be he said to ground him.  I said no way, I want you outside and active as much as possible.  You're not going to hide out in your room.  We decided to add a "Show Respect" button to his chore chart.  It's been up before  but it's time to revisit.

Actually, the onus of the punishment is on me.  I've been lazy.  I need to limit sleepovers, lay out the rules to both boys when friends come over, keep the time structured, and supervise them better.  I also need to enforce computer time rules.  I came up with a good solution that I snuck in the next day, so as to deflect from actually being a punishment.  Upon completion of the chore chart each week the boys get "daddy bucks" which they can redeem at half value for whatever they want or full value if it goes into their savings.  From now on, when they want to play on the computer it costs one daddy buck for a half-hour.  Another way to give them choices.

Snow Days

I tend to wake up on Monday mornings with all sorts of crazy ideas.  This one was to invite my working friend's kids over for the snow day so she wouldn't have to use her valuable time off to stay home with them.  The oldest is really a sweet boy, but when he and my son  are together it's a nightmare.  They can't keep their hands off each other, they run around the house in constant motion, I saw a bottle of water (without the cap - gasp!) making its way upstairs for what ever reason, and just the general chaos.  You know it's going to be a rough day when they come in with their own toys.  You can say good bye to those silly kid!  By 11am I got them outside and watched like a hawk from my perch in the kitchen.  They could see me too.  Every time one of them hit my 4yo he'd look up to see if I was looking.  I figured if the little guy was hurt enough someone would tell me so I ignored it.  After an hour my 4yo was in tears but not because he was hurt; he didn't like the snow in his eyes, a sign he was getting tired.

After lunch the guest boy's little sister showed up so they all had someone to play with.  Within the first 5 minutes the two 4yos ran into each other, bonking heads and a subtle sound of a nose cracking.  They were both okay.  It wasn't a bad afternoon but at 4pm I started to lose it.  There was pee all over the downstairs toilet and the upstairs was clogged.  I noticed that all my toiletries had been rearranged.  My little one informed me that the older boys had the room deodorizer with them.  I didn't want to deal.  In the last hour everything fell apart, toys went everywhere, the kids were running all over the place, and I lost control.  To make matters worse my husband came home and just started yelling, so it got even louder to boot.  I had a headache.  Finally, at 5pm my friend arrived to collect the monsters.

Yesterday I found a coffee mug of something orange in my older son's bottom desk drawer.  That would explain the bottle of water.  Ahh, a science experiment.  I sure hope it was just the vanilla room spray they put in it.

Saturday Night Fever

From the category of "What the h-e-double-hockey-sticks was I thinking?" we have this:  Saturday Night Fever, rated R, is not a family movie.  The soundtrack may the best selling album of all time with the best darn disco music ever, but the movie did not instill the warm fuzzies that I remember from my youth.  Instead, I exposed my 7yo to endless swearing, sex, sexism, racism, drugs, death, rape, gangs, misogyny, polyester, and some might argue disco music.  I had this image in my head when I rented the movie from the library that there was more dancing and less "plot."  Anyway, too lazy to get off the sofa and watch it on my laptop in another location, I let my 7yo watch some of it and did a lot of distracting conversation and fast forwarding when the inappropriate scenes came on.  Not a mother of the year moment for me.  He did laugh at the scene in the beginning when the family is sitting around the dinner table yelling at each other and slapping each other on the head back and forth, as if he could relate.  I hope I didn't do too much damage.  Darn that Tony Manero and his sexy dancing.  Good news for all you disco fans: I just discovered there is a PG version, and there's also a follow up from 1983 called Staying Alive, rated PG-13.

Sleepovers

My 7yo had a friend sleep over last night and boy am I tired.  He was so excited that he forgot how to behave so he was showing off the whole time, being very sassy, loud and just plain obnoxious.  But it was his little brother that really drove me nuts.  Naturally he wanted to play with the two older boys and it was a challenge to keep them separated.  There was no hope of the three of them playing together.  We got through the night, but this morning at 5:30 my son's friend woke up and went into little brother's room and scared the bejesus out of him.  My 4yo started screaming like he fell out of bed and it took me a while to figure out what happened.  Not a great start to the day for any of us!  I figured I was in the clear because it was only two hours before the boy's mom came to get him.  Alas, the 4yo found his favorite flashlight which is hidden in any given place throughout the house and whacked the friend with it in the head.  We were doing so well up until that point too.  Fortunately he was okay and I sent the boys outside to play.  Minutes before the boy's mom arrived, my 7yo came running into the house with a bloody tongue.  While he was convalescing, the friend's mom arrived and knew right away what had happened.  She asked her son if he had put him up to it.  "What?" I naively asked.  "Sticking his tongue on a metal rod," she replied.  "Oh, I don't need to know the details," I said.  "Then I'll just have to yell at my son for being a knucklehead!"  Note to self:  have my son go to the friend's house next time.