This morning started out like most weekday mornings ... get up, start the coffee, shower, make lunches, wake monkey girl and the little dude, turn Fraggle Rock on, serve breakfast, make the beds, blow dry my hair, encourage kids to finish eating, put make-up on, encourage kids to finish eating, get dressed, tell kids that they MUST finish eating and get dressed, hover until they move from the table, make sure everyone brushes their teeth, get the little dude to let the dog in - refuse to pay him to do so, try to get out the door, eventually lose my cool, finally load into the truck, feel bad, give kisses and promise to not lose my cool the next day if they will promise to listen, drop kids off, park at bus stop, get on the bus.
But today something changed when I got on the bus. I sat down on one of the front benches (in a spot that may have been slightly smaller than my bum)between two ladies, one of whom decided to strike up a conversation. Usually when I am taking public transit, I have a habit of keeping my head down and reading my book rather than making new friends, but today breaking the norm led me to a 10 minute conversation that changed my perspective.
After I almost sat on her, this lady joked with me that so long as I did not sit completely on her lap everything would be fine. To which I responded that I would do my best. Then, after a chuckle shared between the two of us, she looked at me and asked if I knew what the secret to a long life was. "Tell me", I said and she went on to share with me that the secret was simple, "Don't get angry, life is too precious and too short. I am 89 and a half and when I was still married my husband, who had been a prisoner of war for five years, would sometimes wake up in a bad place. So, I would tell him that I needed to go to the bank and pay the cable bill, which of course had already been paid, and I would leave for an hour or two. When I returned he would always tell me that he knew that I didn't want to fight, and that is why he figured I gave him his space. It wasn't worth it to be angry over nothing". At this point in our conversation, I knew that this was a very special woman who had a very enlightened perspective on life, and since her 90th birthday is just around the corner - April 6, 2009 - I chalked it up to learning from someone who has had a lot of life experience. I took a moment and silently wondered where life had taken her but knew that our ride together was coming to an end. So out of curiosity, I asked how many children this lovely lady had, imagining what a great mom she must be, and she responded "one" and then her eyes welled up with tears and she said, "Well two, but I was in a concentration camp in Nazi Germany and the guards would just point randomly to people and you would never see them again, life is too short dear - don't waste it on saying and doing things that you can't take back".
"I was a spoiled girl before that, I had a good heart but I was selfish. I became a good person afterwards. Life is precious." Now I don't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that my sunglasses covered the tears in my own eyes, but this interaction completely moved me, and her perspective started to make more and more sense. I want to live my life as a good person too, I sometimes get mad at silly things and say things I wish I hadn't and though it isn't likely that I will never do these things again, this experience will make me work harder not to. I will never forget the look in that woman's eyes when she spoke of losing her child or the wisdom that she shared with me.
Before she got off the bus the conversation turned to talk of her upcoming birthday and she told me that she was sure that there would be a party but she was only giving them three hours ... "for goodness sakes I will be 90, three hours is enough!" She also said that she had asked her son to get her a t-shirt that reads, "How the heck did I get this old?". I hope that he buys her that t-shirt and I hope that when people ask her how she got that old that she shares her wisdom and experiences with them. They will be better for it, I know I am.
If I am five minutes late getting out the door tomorrow, I will watch my words and look at the bigger picture ... I am blessed and at the end of the day what is important is the little people that I am getting out the door, not what bus I catch.
On a lighter note ...
I promised to tell the "bum drum" story, so here it is:
Prologue
My husband started to play bum drums with the kids when they were really little. What it is is a little game where he plays the drums on their bums when they are rough-housing and it makes them laugh. Monkey girl, as she often does, has taken the game to a new level and sometimes slaps the bums of her uncles or friends of ours who come by to visit. Everyone, so far, has been good natured about it and because she is only three there is really no harm done, so long as she is selective in her "bum drum recipients".
The Incident
So, I went to pick monkey-girl up from her dayhome one day last week, and I arrived with another couple who was there to get their child. We all exchanged pleasantries and went about the business of saying goodbye and collecting our children. Same old, same old.
Then, as we were leaving, to my absolute horror, monkey girl smacked the bum of her little buddy's dad. OMG!!!
Immediately his head whipped around and there I was, standing red-faced and speechless as I looked from him - to his wife - to our dayhome provider - to the grinning culprit "monkey girl". Finally, after a moment of complete awkwardness I mumbled that it was a small hand, NOT my hand, that had done the "drumming" and that I would have to correct this tendency before adolescence. Everyone kind of laughed and I scooped monkey girl up and made my way, as quickly as possible, to my truck.
Once we were buckled and in the privacy of our vehicle, I laughed hysterically for a moment before saying, "Now sweetie, you can't play that game with everyone. Can you promise me that you won't play "bum drums" anymore with people who aren't in our family?"
Now, I probably should have banned the game entirely, but the innocence of it had a certain beauty. Amidst all of the crazy and horrible things that go on in the world, I figure that sometimes it is okay to just let our kids be little and bask in their innocence.
WARNING: For those readers who frequent our house, you are not immune to bum drumming, and though you may not be related to her, monkey girl has a tendency of enabling her selective memory at a moment's notice - the result may be that you get spanked at our house.
September 30, 2008
September 26, 2008
Mind your manners mommy
Back when I was a brazen eighteen year old brat, I once had the gall to say to my dad ... "do as I say, not as I do RIGHT?!?!?" Obviously it was not a situation that was pretty but we have gotten over it with time and effort so I will not divulge the context in which it was used - anyone who knows my dad is probably impressed that I am even around to write this post after that type of blatant disrespect. Anyhoo, retribution reared its ugly head this past week when monkey girl schooled me, her mom, in manners.
I asked monkey girl to get into bed one night this week and she stood there and said, quite defiantly I might add, "Say please mommy!!!" to which I responded - rather unthoughtfully - with a "GET INTO BED NOW!". After some back and forth between the two of us she finally went to bed and I scurried off to watch the season premiere of NCIS(my favourite show)all bugged because I missed the opening credits - tragic, I know. The next day I noticed that she did the same thing when the little dude wanted her to move off of my stomach (each of my kids lay on my stomach for their pick of the nightly stories each night) ... she sat tight until he said please and then moved right over so they could switch places. After this I got to thinking that I don't think that I ever did break down and say please to her the night before. Which was followed by flashes of all of the times that I have refused to pass something or do something until I got a "please" or a "thank you" from her.
How many times have I uttered the words, "What do you say?" or "Use your manners" and I have not been taking my own advice when it comes to my kids, and they are the ones I am supposed to be setting the example for.
In a parent - child relationship there is this weird power differential that, though it is absolutely necessary in many ways, can be taken too far. We shouldn't ask our children to behave a certain way if we are not willing to set a proper example. We have been talking a lot in our house lately about the fact that respect is earned, not required. This is an interesting notion to keep in mind as a parent because our children DO have a choice as to whether or not they respect us and it is up to us to both earn and reciprocate that respect.
In short, I am now cognizant of my manners when talking to my children more so than I ever have been before. It is not that I never used to say please and thank you when talking to them but I never made it a rule. I even found myself saying, "PLEASE don't pick your nose and eat it" the other day. Oh, the things you never thought you would hear yourself say!!!
Signing off for another weekend of fence building and bottle driving ... ooh and hockey starts this weekend, I am officially a hockey mom - now that could make for some fun posts!
Check back next week for a funny story about "bum drums" ...
I asked monkey girl to get into bed one night this week and she stood there and said, quite defiantly I might add, "Say please mommy!!!" to which I responded - rather unthoughtfully - with a "GET INTO BED NOW!". After some back and forth between the two of us she finally went to bed and I scurried off to watch the season premiere of NCIS(my favourite show)all bugged because I missed the opening credits - tragic, I know. The next day I noticed that she did the same thing when the little dude wanted her to move off of my stomach (each of my kids lay on my stomach for their pick of the nightly stories each night) ... she sat tight until he said please and then moved right over so they could switch places. After this I got to thinking that I don't think that I ever did break down and say please to her the night before. Which was followed by flashes of all of the times that I have refused to pass something or do something until I got a "please" or a "thank you" from her.
How many times have I uttered the words, "What do you say?" or "Use your manners" and I have not been taking my own advice when it comes to my kids, and they are the ones I am supposed to be setting the example for.
In a parent - child relationship there is this weird power differential that, though it is absolutely necessary in many ways, can be taken too far. We shouldn't ask our children to behave a certain way if we are not willing to set a proper example. We have been talking a lot in our house lately about the fact that respect is earned, not required. This is an interesting notion to keep in mind as a parent because our children DO have a choice as to whether or not they respect us and it is up to us to both earn and reciprocate that respect.
In short, I am now cognizant of my manners when talking to my children more so than I ever have been before. It is not that I never used to say please and thank you when talking to them but I never made it a rule. I even found myself saying, "PLEASE don't pick your nose and eat it" the other day. Oh, the things you never thought you would hear yourself say!!!
Signing off for another weekend of fence building and bottle driving ... ooh and hockey starts this weekend, I am officially a hockey mom - now that could make for some fun posts!
Check back next week for a funny story about "bum drums" ...
September 18, 2008
Do as you say ... or shoot for 500 anyway
First of all I should probably explain the sports reference to my non-sports fan readers ... shooting for 500 refers to winning 1/2 of your games ... keep reading and it should make more sense.
So, I found myself back in a shopping environment with monkey girl and the little dude a few nights ago. We started out by making a deal that if they, my kids, were well-behaved in Michael's (the giant craft store) that we would spend some time in the toy section when we went to Zellers to get monkey girl tights for dance class. Our craft store experience went surprisingly well, with the exception of a hip hop routine performed in the aisle where "all things breakable" live, so the toy section plan was still a go for our next stop.
We walked two stores down and entered Zellers a happy little family, later on I found myself wishing that I could travel back in time to that moment because the happiness ended about 20 paces into the store in front of the Hannah Montana accessory display. Monkey girl, who isn't really old enough to sit through and actually enjoy an entire episode of Hannah Montana, decided this summer that she LOVES Hannah Montana (which she demonstrated on holidays with a week long stint in a t-shirt bearing the teen-star's image). Bearing this in mind it makes sense that she was immediately drawn to the display which was stocked with several earring and necklace sets with guitars and little rhinestones on them ... now I agree that it was cute stuff, but I had NO intention of bringing any of it home with us. Monkey girl, on the other hand, had other plans. Just looking quickly turned into wanting an earring set and when I pointed out that she does not have pierced ears, things went downhill, fast. So there we were, less than two minutes after our entrance as a happy family, and I was surrounded by a distraught toddler, from whom I had to pry the earrings, and a little dude who just wanted his sister to stop crying so that he could look at the toys.
Then before I knew it I was saying, in a very stern voice, "IF YOU DO NOT STOP CRYING IN THREE SECONDS WE ARE LEAVING ... 1, 2, 3!!!" (I am famous for this annoying counting tactic) It was one of those situations where I regretted saying the words before they were even out of my mouth because I really needed to buy the tights that night to be prepared for the next day's class (the thing about working downtown is that there are not many places to buy size 4 capri tights at lunch - there should be, but there's not and I know because, out of necessity, I checked!!!)
In any case, at the end of three seconds the crying had not stopped, and I was faced with the decision to either stick to my guns, or back down and finish the shopping trip as planned. I did a quick take of the surrounding area and noticed that there was at least one other mother with her child listening to our interaction (the others had left the section quickly ... likely covering their ears to block out the screaming, or running for fear that monkey girl's behaviour was contagious and might spread to their own, quieter children) With the pressure of a fellow mother as my spectator being top of mind ... I picked up monkey girl, tried to avoid looking into the disappointed face of the little dude (who really deserved to look at the toys) and left the store ... tightless. After a quick attempt to escape (she actually made it back in through the first set of automatic doors ... if wiggling at lightning speed ever becomes an Olympic sport I have a star in-waiting) we got into the truck and began our trip out of the mall parking lot with: one child pouting, one child bawling and one mother wishing that she was a time traveler (I am currently reading The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger - great book!)
I had to make one more stop at 7-11 to get some stamps and bought the little dude a piece of beef jerky as a peace offering for letting him down ... monkey girl was still crying uncontrollably (actually her persistence is kind of impressive in hindsight) and as a result two police officers watched me very closely and the store clerk offered her chocolate (apparently they did not have children of their own or they would have been giving the stink-eye to monkey girl ... the real crime was that my ears were ringing and the little dude did not get what he earned, not that monkey girl did not get pierced earrings for her unpierced ears).
All's well that ends well ...
A small miracle occurred a few blocks away from 7-11 ... the crying stopped and monkey girl said, "I -sniff- love you Mommy, and I love Hannah -sniff- Montana". So ridden with "mother's-guilt" I stopped at the last corner store on the way to our house and bought her a small sour gecko.
This is what I mean by shooting for 500 - I stopped myself from making another empty threat (something that I have often been guilty of doing) but the sweetness of my monkey girl, once she had morphed back into normalacy, won me over in the end and she ended up with a treat. **insert sigh here
As a result of this experience I have made a short list of "threats" not to make unless you plan on following through, as a bonus I have also included some alternate solutions:
When at a place that you plan on staying, don't say ... we are going to leave if you keep that up!
(I have done this many times at family dinners or BBQs and I don't think we have ever actually left)
Alternate solution (for young kids): I have started giving time outs in the car. I buckle the culprit into their seat and then stand outside the car until the tantrumming stops - it is quick and effective (for my kids) and removes them from the situation so other people can continue to enjoy the event.
At the dinner table, don't say ... if you don't eat all of your dinner you are not getting anything else tonight!!!
Chances are you are not going put an eating ban into place if it turns out that your child really is hungry later.
Alternate solution: If this happens often and the child eats some of their meal maybe they just need smaller portions or if it is just occasionally ask the child to eat a certain amount of everything on his or her plate and then if they are hungry later limit them to a small healthy snack.
When your child has earned a reward, don't threaten to take it away before they have even had time to enjoy it.
This is a tough one because, as parents, we are often looking for something that will have impact when mentioned, but if your child has legitimately earned something through hard work and perserverance just to have it taken away for some small misstep, you are running the risk of negating the life lesson that they have learned by working for something. There is likely another tactic or another item that they enjoy without a lesson attached to it that would be equally effective if taking something away is what works for your child.
Keep in mind I have come to this advice by learning the hard way.
Well that is all for now ... happy trails in your parenting adventures this weekend! We will be trying to build a fence with a monkey and a dude as part of the work crew ... I am sure there will be stories to share when we are through :o)
PS I went to Co-op grocery shopping the night after the Hannah Montana Earring Debachle and monkey girl was an absolute angel ... the only thing that we could have skipped was when she sat down in the middle of the store to bite her toenails, but hey she may as well do it while she doesn't realize how gross it is and she is flexible enough to get her feet in her mouth!
So, I found myself back in a shopping environment with monkey girl and the little dude a few nights ago. We started out by making a deal that if they, my kids, were well-behaved in Michael's (the giant craft store) that we would spend some time in the toy section when we went to Zellers to get monkey girl tights for dance class. Our craft store experience went surprisingly well, with the exception of a hip hop routine performed in the aisle where "all things breakable" live, so the toy section plan was still a go for our next stop.
We walked two stores down and entered Zellers a happy little family, later on I found myself wishing that I could travel back in time to that moment because the happiness ended about 20 paces into the store in front of the Hannah Montana accessory display. Monkey girl, who isn't really old enough to sit through and actually enjoy an entire episode of Hannah Montana, decided this summer that she LOVES Hannah Montana (which she demonstrated on holidays with a week long stint in a t-shirt bearing the teen-star's image). Bearing this in mind it makes sense that she was immediately drawn to the display which was stocked with several earring and necklace sets with guitars and little rhinestones on them ... now I agree that it was cute stuff, but I had NO intention of bringing any of it home with us. Monkey girl, on the other hand, had other plans. Just looking quickly turned into wanting an earring set and when I pointed out that she does not have pierced ears, things went downhill, fast. So there we were, less than two minutes after our entrance as a happy family, and I was surrounded by a distraught toddler, from whom I had to pry the earrings, and a little dude who just wanted his sister to stop crying so that he could look at the toys.
Then before I knew it I was saying, in a very stern voice, "IF YOU DO NOT STOP CRYING IN THREE SECONDS WE ARE LEAVING ... 1, 2, 3!!!" (I am famous for this annoying counting tactic) It was one of those situations where I regretted saying the words before they were even out of my mouth because I really needed to buy the tights that night to be prepared for the next day's class (the thing about working downtown is that there are not many places to buy size 4 capri tights at lunch - there should be, but there's not and I know because, out of necessity, I checked!!!)
In any case, at the end of three seconds the crying had not stopped, and I was faced with the decision to either stick to my guns, or back down and finish the shopping trip as planned. I did a quick take of the surrounding area and noticed that there was at least one other mother with her child listening to our interaction (the others had left the section quickly ... likely covering their ears to block out the screaming, or running for fear that monkey girl's behaviour was contagious and might spread to their own, quieter children) With the pressure of a fellow mother as my spectator being top of mind ... I picked up monkey girl, tried to avoid looking into the disappointed face of the little dude (who really deserved to look at the toys) and left the store ... tightless. After a quick attempt to escape (she actually made it back in through the first set of automatic doors ... if wiggling at lightning speed ever becomes an Olympic sport I have a star in-waiting) we got into the truck and began our trip out of the mall parking lot with: one child pouting, one child bawling and one mother wishing that she was a time traveler (I am currently reading The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger - great book!)
I had to make one more stop at 7-11 to get some stamps and bought the little dude a piece of beef jerky as a peace offering for letting him down ... monkey girl was still crying uncontrollably (actually her persistence is kind of impressive in hindsight) and as a result two police officers watched me very closely and the store clerk offered her chocolate (apparently they did not have children of their own or they would have been giving the stink-eye to monkey girl ... the real crime was that my ears were ringing and the little dude did not get what he earned, not that monkey girl did not get pierced earrings for her unpierced ears).
All's well that ends well ...
A small miracle occurred a few blocks away from 7-11 ... the crying stopped and monkey girl said, "I -sniff- love you Mommy, and I love Hannah -sniff- Montana". So ridden with "mother's-guilt" I stopped at the last corner store on the way to our house and bought her a small sour gecko.
This is what I mean by shooting for 500 - I stopped myself from making another empty threat (something that I have often been guilty of doing) but the sweetness of my monkey girl, once she had morphed back into normalacy, won me over in the end and she ended up with a treat. **insert sigh here
As a result of this experience I have made a short list of "threats" not to make unless you plan on following through, as a bonus I have also included some alternate solutions:
When at a place that you plan on staying, don't say ... we are going to leave if you keep that up!
(I have done this many times at family dinners or BBQs and I don't think we have ever actually left)
Alternate solution (for young kids): I have started giving time outs in the car. I buckle the culprit into their seat and then stand outside the car until the tantrumming stops - it is quick and effective (for my kids) and removes them from the situation so other people can continue to enjoy the event.
At the dinner table, don't say ... if you don't eat all of your dinner you are not getting anything else tonight!!!
Chances are you are not going put an eating ban into place if it turns out that your child really is hungry later.
Alternate solution: If this happens often and the child eats some of their meal maybe they just need smaller portions or if it is just occasionally ask the child to eat a certain amount of everything on his or her plate and then if they are hungry later limit them to a small healthy snack.
When your child has earned a reward, don't threaten to take it away before they have even had time to enjoy it.
This is a tough one because, as parents, we are often looking for something that will have impact when mentioned, but if your child has legitimately earned something through hard work and perserverance just to have it taken away for some small misstep, you are running the risk of negating the life lesson that they have learned by working for something. There is likely another tactic or another item that they enjoy without a lesson attached to it that would be equally effective if taking something away is what works for your child.
Keep in mind I have come to this advice by learning the hard way.
Well that is all for now ... happy trails in your parenting adventures this weekend! We will be trying to build a fence with a monkey and a dude as part of the work crew ... I am sure there will be stories to share when we are through :o)
PS I went to Co-op grocery shopping the night after the Hannah Montana Earring Debachle and monkey girl was an absolute angel ... the only thing that we could have skipped was when she sat down in the middle of the store to bite her toenails, but hey she may as well do it while she doesn't realize how gross it is and she is flexible enough to get her feet in her mouth!
September 7, 2008
Food for thought ...
I came home from a night out with the girls on Friday night all full of monkey girl and little dude stories to post for both your reading enjoyment and to do my weekly purge of parenting "woes" and "wows", and received news via Facebook that changed my perspective.
A friend of mine from junior high school that I had reconnected with on Facebook had posted photos a few weeks back of her son who had been born premature at 23 weeks. For just over two weeks extra prayers were being said by a large network of people to help the family and their sweet little boy make it from one day to the next. I, along with several other people, watched her postings for updates on how the baby was doing and was constantly amazed by the strength and courage that it must have taken for her to share her story. So on Friday night while I was checking Facebook just like it was any other day, I saw a note amongst all of the updates and comments that started with the words "It is with heavy hearts ...", this heartbreaking announcement came only 18 days after the "little man's" parents welcomed him into the world with loving arms and hopeful hearts.
I cannot even imagine, and pray that I never know, the pain of losing a child. Today (Sunday), there was a note posted by a friend of the family entitled 18 days in which the author wrote about all of the things that she had been worrying about during the time that her friends were spending the precious moments of their son's short life. The list included things like bills, flu shots and the start of a new school year ... the same things that I had given extra thought to over the last 18 days, and I was struck by how so many of us (myself included)wander through life never really knowing how blessed we are and it takes staring tragedy in the face to really take inventory of all of the things that we have to be thankful for, and to fully realize just how fragile life is.
After shutting down the computer on Friday I went upstairs and snuck into each of my kids'rooms and just sat for a minute, hugged them a little harder than I might have otherwise and said a little thank you for these amazing little people and all of the lessons that they have taught me and continue to teach me every day.
If you can find an extra moment please say a little prayer or send a happy thought out into the universe for this couple as they mourn their little boy.
A friend of mine from junior high school that I had reconnected with on Facebook had posted photos a few weeks back of her son who had been born premature at 23 weeks. For just over two weeks extra prayers were being said by a large network of people to help the family and their sweet little boy make it from one day to the next. I, along with several other people, watched her postings for updates on how the baby was doing and was constantly amazed by the strength and courage that it must have taken for her to share her story. So on Friday night while I was checking Facebook just like it was any other day, I saw a note amongst all of the updates and comments that started with the words "It is with heavy hearts ...", this heartbreaking announcement came only 18 days after the "little man's" parents welcomed him into the world with loving arms and hopeful hearts.
I cannot even imagine, and pray that I never know, the pain of losing a child. Today (Sunday), there was a note posted by a friend of the family entitled 18 days in which the author wrote about all of the things that she had been worrying about during the time that her friends were spending the precious moments of their son's short life. The list included things like bills, flu shots and the start of a new school year ... the same things that I had given extra thought to over the last 18 days, and I was struck by how so many of us (myself included)wander through life never really knowing how blessed we are and it takes staring tragedy in the face to really take inventory of all of the things that we have to be thankful for, and to fully realize just how fragile life is.
After shutting down the computer on Friday I went upstairs and snuck into each of my kids'rooms and just sat for a minute, hugged them a little harder than I might have otherwise and said a little thank you for these amazing little people and all of the lessons that they have taught me and continue to teach me every day.
If you can find an extra moment please say a little prayer or send a happy thought out into the universe for this couple as they mourn their little boy.
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