Evolving Conversation

I pretty much spend all day everyday with this little person...

Most of the time this is a lovely fate.  Occasionally I feel a little suffocated, but since it's my third time around on this toddler merry-go-round, I know that this smothering sensation is indeed only temporary.  I am really enjoying being present for the rapid verbal evolution of my little buddy.  Several months ago her vocabulary consisted of only three words: Milk, More and Mama, all urgent and essential "m" words.

Today she knows and says over 100 words.  Since she is my third, I have not bothered to make a list of them.  Sorry.  It is, however, very exciting to note that this ever-growing list of words results in less and less toddler-style frustration.  All people want to be heard and understood, and using one's words is a great first step.  Often when she is on the verge of a meltdown, I can stymie the tantrum by repeating her words/ feelings back to her.  For example, "Yes, I know!!  You want cake!!"  Her relieved "yes" discloses how encouraging it can feel to simply be understood.  Of course we do not live in a utopia.  Acknowledging the desire for cake, permanent magic markers, or a box of tiny beads does not always guarantee a perfectly content baby.  Perfectly content babies are so boring though, aren't they?

I also enjoy the fact that I can now have appropriate conversations with this little person who toddles around with me all day long.  Conversations usually go something like this...

Lili: MILK!!
Me: Would you like some milk?
Lili: YESH!!
Me: (handing her the milk) Here you go.
Lili: Day-doo.
Me:  You're welcome, lovely girl.  How about we go and sort the laundry now?
Lili: O-Tay!
Me: That sounds like fun, doesn't it?
Lili: YESH!

...And on it goes... all the live long day.  A not small part of me wishes she could stay little, just like this.

"We worry about what a child will become tomorrow, yet we forget that he is someone today."  ~Stacia Tauscher

Angels Unaware

Yesterday at the eleven o’clock church service I sat sandwiched between my two eldest daughters.  It was lovely.  Emma’s arm was linked through mine as we sang the processional hymn, Onward Christian Soldiers, together.  My heart filled with mirth as the little girl to my right sang out so loudly and joyfully even though the tune of this song was lost on her.  Standing there listening to Emma sing took me back to other occasions when I’ve stood beside a beautifully off-key singing loved one.  My late grandfather Lewis’s hymn singing resembled the sounds a tortured cat might make, but I always smiled inside when I stood next to him in church.  Even though the music was like an unknown foreign language to him, the lyrics were stitched into his heart.  Any person who stood by his side while he softly squealed along with How Great Thou Art could clearly discern the depth of his sentiment.

I have equally fond memories of listening to my late grandmother Adeline sing “...And he walks with me and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own…” in the kitchen when she thought no one was taking any notice.  Her voice had a sweet, trembling and slightly disharmonious quality, but it was indeed music to my young ears because it carried with it such faith and longing.

My oldest daughter’s singing reveals her exuberant spirit as well.  Her voice is untrained, but her heart is wise and her joy shameless.  Forget about any sermon.  I was being led by the example of the completely unaware angel who was hanging onto the crook of my arm, belting out the lyrics.  What a gift!

Sweet Sophia sat to my left.  She also sang along softly while following along in the hymnal with her finger, but after the hymn was finished, she became engrossed in a prayer request card which she found in the pew in front of her.  She scribbled furiously inside as I listened to the morning’s announcements and as Emma rested her head on my shoulder.

When the minster called for all of the children to come forward for Children’s Time and Sunday school, the prayer request card was left lying carelessly on the pew.  Out of curiosity, I picked it up and had a look inside.  This is what I saw…

I felt so proud that Sophie found the compassion in her heart to pray for dying werewolves.  I was so moved that I almost placed the card in the offering plate as it passed.  I feared, however, that the intercessor might not appreciate the sincerity of this prayer request.  So I folded the card and brought it home in my purse.  In all seriousness... I am glad that she feels "at home" enough in church to draw silly pictures of werewolves inside the prayer request cards.  We should all be the same in church as we are elsewhere.  Another lesson taught by an unknowing cherub (who pals around with werewolves).

"And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."  (Matthew 18:2-3 ESV)

Bubble Bliss

My youngest daughter is nearly 20 months old.  I know!  I cannot believe it either.  Even more unbelievable is the fact that she had her very first ever bubble bath this past weekend.  How is it possible that she has been deprived of bubble baths for her entire life?

 We don't tend to take bubble baths at our house since several of us have sensitive skin, but when Sophie started to feel a bit unimportant near the end of Emma's birthday party on Saturday evening, I convinced her that a special jacuzzi bath with her baby sister would cure what ailed her.  My mom had just sent us some fancy organic lavender bubble bath, so that went into the water as well... and Voila!  We had just produced the world's happiest baby.  He cheers of, "BOBBLE!  BOBBLE! BOBBLE!!!" could be heard all over the house.

I really love living with a toddler.  A toddler knows nothing of holding back emotions.  So while we sometimes have back-arching, howling temper fits, we also have the other side of the coin: unbridled, excitement, joy and elation that result from life's simplest pleasures.  I had forgotten how enchanting a bubble bath could be.  While watching two of my girls, giddy and covered in suds, I had a distinct and fond memory of being in the bath when I was about five and covering my hands and arms in long, white, foamy bubble-gloves.  What pure delight!

So it probably goes without saying... this was the first of many bubble baths.  Could you send us some more of that good stuff, Mimi?  :)

And let it also be told that the bubble bath sorted Sophie's green-eyed monster right out!

"There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won't cure, but I don't know many of them." ~Sylvia Plath

Lord Help the Sister...

Once upon a time things were easier at my house.  Sure there were more diapers to change.  There were even more messes to clean up and there was lots of urgent "Feed Me Now, Mama" crying, but when we had two children under the age of two, everybody loved everybody ALL of the time.  (The littlest one didn't know she loved everybody, but I'm sure that love was in there.)

Today things are less labor intensive but far more emotionally complicated.  Today those two girls are seven and nine.  They share the same space, hunger for the attention of the same haggard mama, and they look at life through the lenses of very different personalities.  (Don't forget the fact that we have also added another very spirited, cutie-pants baby sister to the equation.)  One moment Emma and Sophie may be lying on their tummies, side by side, coloring a beautiful picture together, and the next moment they are furiously screaming at each other.  This is foreign to me since I grew up an only child.  No one in my house ever shouted.  I find it very disturbing.  Those of you who grew up with siblings know that it is normal, but you will never convince me that it is acceptable.

Shifting my perception a bit, I realize that having a sibling is a huge educational opportunity, one that I never had.  A sibling can teach negotiation skills.  She can teach how to see things through the eyes of another.  A sibling teaches that you are not the center of the universe, that you must learn to share and to be patient.  She can also help you reach new levels of anger and frustration, and she knows how to hurt you at your very core.

Many parenting books and well-meaning friends will advise not to get involved in sibling squabbles.  I have heard it said that if you intervene in sibling arguments, kids will never learn to work out their problems for themselves.  I happen to disagree strongly.  Children are not born with conflict resolution skills.  If Mom and Dad don't intervene, the conflicts will be resolved, but it is likely that the child with the stronger personality will come out on top while the meeker of the two will be left feeling like a resentful loser.  This is not okay in my book.

I am only just beginning to learn about how complex sibling relationships can be.  My husband and I are choosing to regard these shouting matches between sisters as teachable moments.  We are trying to help the girls understand each other.  We are attempting to teach them strategies for dealing with their raw feelings without being hurtful to each other.  We are striving to listen without judgment, to acknowledge hurt and angry feelings and to not place blame.  We are confident that we are building skills that will allow them to effectively resolve their conflicts independently in the future.  This all sounds perfectly civilized, doesn't it?

Of course Mom and Dad are not perfect.  There are times when we get so fed up with hearing the yelling and fighting that we send them both to their rooms and proclaim that they are not allowed to speak to each other for the rest of the day.  One would think that being separated from the source of one's everlasting torment would be a relief, but anytime these two are sentenced to a forced separation at least one of them dissolves into tears.  Like I said, sibling relationships are complicated.

I welcome any advice or words of encouragement you may have for me.  Things will get better eventually, right?  Please, I beg of you, don't scare me too much about what is ahead for us in the teen years.  Until then I will continue to try to keep my cool while I occasionally reminisce about how sweet things can be...

"Bless you, my darling, and remember you are always in the heart - oh tucked so close there is no chance of escape - of your sister."  ~Katherine Mansfield

Partying Like a Rock Star

My favorite rock star turned nine today.  Yesterday we celebrated with bowling, homemade cake and several other rockin' nine-year-olds.  I have watched the interests of this girl evolve from pink princesses into rock stars and dragons.  In the years to come her passions will continue to change, and we will enjoy the ride.

Some things have not changed like Emma's curiosity, creativity and concern for others.  She has so much love to give and she goes about showing it in very inventive ways.  Our oldest girl is a rock star with a heart of gold, and we can't wait to see what she teaches us next.  Happy Birthday, Emma!

"Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You."

~Dr. Seuss

Mother's Day Humility

Mother's Day always makes me wonder if I am deserving of all of the praise that those Mother's Day greeting cards deliver.  I usually get handmade cards from my girls, and those are the very best.  This one from Sophia is very sweet...

It reveals two important facts.  First of all, she "apreshates" me, and secondly she listens.  She hears me complaining about how unappreciated I feel.  Children are not particularly appreciative by nature, so perhaps my complaints are constructively instructive or...er... is it just more likely that I enjoy complaining about picking everyone's socks up off of the floor?

Emma's card related the ultimate compliment...that I am "awesome" in addition to being loving and understanding.  I will accept all of those compliments even though I am pretty sure that there isn't anything literally awesome about me.  I love to read stories, sing silly moose songs, and bake unusual cupcakes, so that does earn me lots of mom points...but awesome??

I try.  That is all I can do.  It is nice to be celebrated.  Today no one reminded me of how grouchy I can be in the morning when I haven't had enough sleep.  They didn't bring up the fact that sometimes I lose my cool when I hear sisters constantly fighting with each other.  Honestly sometimes screaming, "STOP SCREAMING AT EACH OTHER!!"  is all a mama can manage, right?

Today I enjoyed a picnic in the sunshine with my husband and my three girls.  For a few hours today, everything was peaceful and pleasant and everyone indulged my "Did I ever tell you about the time I..." stories.  Today I felt loved and "apreshated" for all of the things that I seem to get right.  Tomorrow I will try to be more mindful about all of  those other things that need improvement.

Happy Mother's Day.

De-Busy-Fy Me, Please

I have spent the last several months moaning about how over-scheduled we are.  I weep and groan about having to drag poor Lili out to swimming and gymnastics and whatever else happens to be the obsessed-about activity of the month.  My children don't want to give anything up, but they long for down time.  They put off bedtime so that they can have time to chat and argue with each other and just "be" children, unscheduled children.  Then they are tired in the morning.  Sometimes, as hard as this is to believe, they are grumpy and mouthy to their sweet mama because they are so tired.  I think there has to be a better balance.  I don't want to live like this anymore, and I am the grown up, remember? 

I am the grown-up who happened to completely forget about the fact that I had registered and paid for my two older girls to participate in a gymnastics meet on Saturday.  I am sure the meet happened without us, but we didn't even give it a thought.  We were busy planting flowers, helping Dad dig a big ditch in the back yard and making cupcakes.  I remembered the gymnastics meet this morning as I walked into my exercise class.  Oops.

Perhaps this "oops" was just the wake-up call that I needed.  It was a bumbling nudge reminding me that we are doing TOO MUCH.  Sometimes kids should just come home and ride their bikes.  Sometimes it is just fantastic to flop down on the sofa and watch cartoons after school while your mom cooks a great dinner.    And here is a news flash:  Neither of my daughters are going to grow up to be Olympic gymnasts.  I would much rather they look back on childhood and remember things like  finger painting, drawing on the sidewalk with chalk, digging in the dirt and helping mom bake brownies instead of a blurred, endless string of afternoons rushing into the car to head to archery lessons and flugelhorn practice.

This is not the first time I have gotten fired up about downsizing our schedule, but with summer coming, I am resolved to follow through and make some changes.  Less may be more for our family.

Please know that I am not judging you if your little Junior spends every afternoon training for soccer or the world chess tournament.  Every family has to find a balance.  Right now I can feel that our family is NOT in balance, so I need to do some tweaking.  Wish me luck!   There may be a few tears and strops, but I truly believe that more rest and less scheduling will yield happier children in the end.

UPDATE.  My husband just called and convinced me that it is not at all as bad as I have convinced myself.  Yes, we should tweak and consolidate to make our schedule a bit less hectic, but our children are certainly not stressed out and neurotic.  (That's just me.)  Change is a-comin' though...