Happy Birthday Shea!

My baby turned 6 today. That's right. 6 years ago today is when I got to meet me boy face to face for the first time.

He was sleepy and they had me wake him to eat. Could he be annoyed that we had to take him a week early? His temp was not rising at first and I had to hold him skin to skin to get him warm. He had trouble latching on and I had to pump and feed him with a syringe. When I think back now it seems like a movie, someone else's story.

He is getting to be a big boy now. He lost his first tooth a week or so ago. He is reading better and better everyday and will be moving on to 1st grade next fall.

When I look at my kids, both of them, I feel like they are the best thing I have done with my life. The incredible joy they bring is only outweighed by the heavy responsibility I feel to help them develop into the wonderful people that I know they are.

Happy birthday, baby boy! Because of you, I am a much better person than I ever was before.

Failing schools....

We say "Weeeeee!" for Wii

Being late adopters, it takes us a while to jump on the bandwagon. But for Christmas, I buckled and got a Wii for the family.

First, I barely knew what I was buying and if it wasn't for my tech savvy 11 year old I would have given up with annoyance.

But the contraption has arrived and has become a much bigger presence in our house than the little box implied.

Secondly, who likes the Wii? Oh, I tried it out, did some bowling, even through my back out a bit from being to vigorous (the first Wii injury in the house?) but the blush is off now and I couldn't care less.

Shea is the undisputed Wii king with Molly popping in every once in a when her Facebook chat is not as stimulating as usual. Although, it seems to devolve into argument which was definitely NOT the idea.

But Jake is the surprise. I was hoping he would like the tennis or baseball but WOW! does he like tennis and baseball! Nightly Jake and Shea battle it out on the courts. Shea has always been amazingly athletic with good reflexes and excellent hand/eye coordination but I didn't really think it would roll over to the Wii. I mean it is just a blasted computer game right?

I guess not.

Jake says it is really fun to play with Shea because he is so good. In fact too good to bowl against as he bowls a consistent 200. Is that even possible?

So, out of a box and magically plugged into the TV, my boys connect nightly with wicked overhead slams and amazing cross court volleys.

Psychologically, I think it helps Jake's winter blehs. And, I know it is some excellent bonding glue for Shea who admittedly is a bit of a mommy's boy.

While Shea and Jake tear up the courts from the comfort of our TV room, Molly sends me abbreviated comments on Facebook chat.

"Hi!" and "How r u?" she types from the other room. I always drop what I am doing and answer back although I can't get the hang of the jargon.

In a fit of worry, I asked her, "Will you always be honest with me if I ask who you are chatting with?" She hedges as graphic fears reach up my gullet, coupled with visions of the creepiest creepster somehow getting access to my beautiful daughter.

Annoyed, she changes the subject, thinking that I am being nosy about what boy she likes or what so and so said in the hall and then "OMG! She said what?". It prompts yet another talk about creeps and keeping yourself safe and not chatting with people you don't know. She nods, grave, a bit scared at my seriousness.

And, when she is at school sometimes, I check to see what she has been up to.

I am a spy...for love.

Mother's talk influences kid's social skills

Really? I guess I need to catalog this under, "Duh!"

From CNN:

Mothers often get blamed for the way their children turn out, and a new study gives additional weight to that accusation.

Mothers have opportunities to teach empathy every day, psychologists say.

Research from the United Kingdom shows that the way mothers talk to their children at a young age influences their social skills later in childhood.

The study, funded by the Economic and Social Research Council, found that children whose mothers often talked to them about people's feelings, beliefs, wants and intentions developed better social understanding than children whose mothers did not.

In the first part of the study, mothers were asked to talk to their 3-year-old children about a series of pictures depicting scenes such as a child coming out of school looking happy and people waiting in line. Children whose mothers talked about the mental state of characters in the picture tended to perform better on social understanding tasks, the researchers found.

The effect persisted when the researchers revisited the families -- 57 of them remained in the study until the end -- on an almost yearly basis. The authors controlled for socioeconomic status and IQ of the mothers and found that these factors were not as relevant.

This is why I blog about my kids...

...to make it easier to remember the little things; the day to day, small stuff of life. I write my blog so that I can share it with my kids someday when they care enough and so that I can relive it for myself. You know. Completely selfish reasons.

Thanks for sharing in it. Check out this wonderful essay. She says it so well.

Hat tip to gal pal, Judith, for sending it to me!

by Anna Quindlen

If not for the photographs, I might have a hard time believing they ever existed. The pensive infant with the swipe of dark bangs and the black button eyes of a Raggedy Andy doll. The placid baby with the yellow ringlets and the high piping voice. The sturdy toddler with the lower lip that curled into an apostrophe above her chin.

ALL MY BABIES are gone now. I say this not in sorrow but in disbelief. I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like. Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves. Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

Everything in all the books I once pored over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach., T. Berry Brazelton., Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education, all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories.

What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations --what they taught me was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all.

Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay. No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout.

One boy is toilet trained at 3, his brother at 2. When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing. Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow.

I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month-old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.

Every part of raising children is humbling, too. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the Remember-When-Mom-Did-Hall-of-Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language, mine, not theirs. The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, "What did you get wrong?" (She insisted I included that.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I included that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?

But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less.

Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be.

The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That's what the books never told me.

I was bound and determined to learn from the experts.

It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were.

Math is cool but mom sure isn't

Today is the Math is Cool competition.

5th graders from all over the region will meet up and go through a rigorous palate of math challenges testing a wide array of math skills at a centrally located high school off island. Each school groups their 16 participants into teams of 4 who will work together throughout the competition.

The scores are tallied and crunched through an undoubtedly dazzling equation to determine a winner.

How do I know so much about it? I went last year. It was a long afternoon and evening. Parents were not allowed into the challenges except for one instance so much of the time was spent sitting around in the hallways waiting and chatting with other parents.

At the end, we all met in the cafeteria, ate bad pizza and waited for the results. There are different divisions depending on the size of the school. And, when it was called out that our little Vashon school won the 1st place ribbon in our division, there were literal tears of joy.

The bus ride home was like riding a cloud for those kids and I will never, ever forget it. And, it's a good thing because I am not going this year.

I could if my presence was desired. Coincidentally, Bubble has canceled this week for a conference so I am amazingly free today. Very unusual for a Friday. So, I could ride the bus over, hang out all afternoon and ride back.

But, Molly does not want me to go. She says it would be embarrassing. I am not too proud to say that I wheedled a bit. I asked, "But what if Mr. Larson really needs more help?"

She said, "Well, if he really needs the help but I wish you wouldn't." Ouch.

OK. I can respect where she is coming from. She is getting to the age where it is excruciatingly embarrassing to even have parents, let alone an outgoing parent. Heaven forbid! I might actually hug her or say, I love you in front of her peers!

I am a little sad but not really. It is just a sign of her growing up. I have lots of memories where she did want me there. I can hang onto those for a bit.

I just hope that there comes a point when she will want me around again. Then, I will know that we have made it through. Not that it would be the last hurdle. Just one of many.

Go team!

UPDATE: The team came in 1st again this year in our division! They acted kind of nonchalant about it this time. It was a very long day. They left school at 1:30 and did not get back until 11:15 after missing a ferry. I could barely keep my eyes open although Molly was unsurprisingly bouncing off the walls. A good time was had by all.

Working at home with kids

I have been doing this for quite a while with varying degrees of success. Basically, depending on what you do, it can be a very good thing.

I always felt that I didn't wait so long to have kids so that I could let someone else raise them. But, then again, I never really made the kind of money that justified full time day care.

I was lucky. I was able to cobble together a livelihood by working in the family business and developing a side business along the way. Now it is a way of life.

How productive am I as a work at home mom? I admit that I can get more done in 30 minutes than when I spent 1/2 a day in an office trotting the corporate track. Something about that uninterrupted time. Boy, do you miss it when you are at home with the kids therefore you utilize it, appreciate it.

So, yes, I feel productive but not as organized as I would like to be. Certainly not as professional as I would want to be. I don't wear business clothes anymore. I dress like a mom which is one or two steps above pajamas. My professional image has suffered. What with kids screaming in the background as you're talking services with a new client! But, people are forgiving these days. They understand. They are usually pretty cool. If my crazy, mom-full life bugs them, I am sure they just go somewhere else. This is a small enough market, usually they will be back.

How about the mothering? How is that effected by working at home? This is where the ever present mommy guilt comes in. I have spent a lot of time trying to distract my kids so that I could get some work done. I always feel bad about that. I have to drop whatever I am doing to answer a client's call or deal with putting out a little fire. The kids are second in line in those situations. I try to arrange meeting around the kids but clients are clients. I spend lots of time away when they would rather have me here. I am only so "in control" of the schedule.

I have spent many hours itching to take care of the over flowing in box knowing I can't really do it justice until they are gone to school, camp, preschool, etc. I have had to drag them with me to meetings. By the way, this never, ever really works. No matter how wonderful the kids are. It is just against the grain. Kids are not naturally patient and clients don't naturally hurry. A lose-lose scenario.

I am thankful that I have had this opportunity. I realize what a gift it is. Many kids don't get to see their parents until around dinner time. That is their normal. I am here to make sure they eat breakfast. I have a little time to volunteer in their classes. I am here after school. But, I guess I will need to wait until they are grown to hear what they really thought about it.

It is what it is. I wonder what they will say.

Loosing a child

From the New York Times:

"Ivan Cameron was just 6, a boy with a lovely smile who was born with cerebral palsy and a severe form of epilepsy that deprived him of the ability to walk, talk or feed himself. He spent much of his time in the hospital, sometimes with his parents sleeping on the floor beside him, helping care for what they called their “beautiful boy.”

Loosing a child has the be the hardest, cruelest, most devastating experience to ever happen to a person. My thoughts and prayers go out to the Cameron family and all the other families that have had to go through this excruciating loss.

I am reminded of the profound vulnerability of parenthood. There is no balm. There is no shield. It is the way it is. We all feel the injustice of such an occurrence yet it happens everyday.

I will share a story. Jake's older brother, the shining first born son, was killed in a car accident at the frighteningly young age of 23. Horrible, sad, a sickening loss. Jake was 12 years old. Something like this never goes away. It is part of the family fabric for all time. Jake still mourns and it is part of who he is. Does time help? Maybe but the hurt never goes away. His parents never really got over it. And, who could blame them. There is no getting over loosing a child.

Remember during the Vice Presidential debates? Joe Biden told the story of sitting bedside of his small son who survived the car accident that killed his wife and small daughter all those years ago. He choked up on national television. A wound like that never really heals. I liked Joe Biden before but loved him after that. This is a man who knows what is important in life.

There are many special parents out there living with and struggling with the same challenges that the Cameron family experienced. My thoughts are also with you tonight.

Who does what at your house?

A marriage is a balance. Sometimes a balancing act? Perhaps. But my point is indeed a marriage is a balance.

Over the last, almost 17 years, Jake & I have settled into a balance. Somehow, most of the time, it seems to be working.

I heard somewhere that a good marriage is learning how NOT to open your mouth and speak 20 times a day. Snark? Maybe. I think it means try not to criticize too much, it looses it's impact.

It is usually very difficult to take a peekinto someone's marriage. As if you would even want to! But, here you go, a quick peek into mine:

Who does what at my house:

Banking, bills & paperwork - me
Furnace, plumbing & anything mechanical - Jake
Cars: Buying, servicing, cleaning - Jake
House cleaning - both
Cooking - both
Dish washing - Jake
Laundry - me
Keeper of the calendar - me
Teeth brushing with Shea - Jake
Homework & violin - me
Bedtime stories and tuck in - me
Dealing with spiders & other pests - Jake
Cats - both
Cloths buying for mom & kids - me
Clothes buying for dad - Jake
Grocery Store - me
House repair, fix, remodel - Jake
Doctors, Dentists & specialists - me

Now that I am looking at this list, I guess I am the Organization person and Jake is the Operations person. That actually about sums it up.

How does it work in your house?

On selfishness

Humans are selfish creatures. We're born selfish; Me, me! Want, want! Now, now! These are pretty basic feelings and we can't be blamed too much for them. Is good parenting basically the attempt to curb that voracious selfishness in our children?

I guess as parents we certainly see it up close and personal while reciting the parent's verbal loop; No hitting or kicking, say please & thank you, that is not yours, wait your turn, those are not nice words, etc.

And what about us adults? Are we selfish too? You bet, many of us. Honestly, I am a pretty selfish person. I am selfish about my time. I know this and admit this about myself. Although becoming a parent sure put a real kink in it. I still am selfish but not able to express it as much.

Remember that sweet baby that someone entrusted to you at the hospital? Who is this kid? Is it really mine to take care of? It doesn't have an off switch! Something new blooms from that realization. I am no longer and will never be really 100% in control of my life situation ever again. In fact, it's not even about me anymore! Then you become distracted while you busily try to calm a screaming infant.

That is parenting for you; a crash course in selflessness. And, being a parent of a special needs child? Even more so.

I like to visit other Special Parent blogs. It never ceases to amaze me the bravery and vision, the honesty and hope, the patience and, yes, the selflessness. Some of these blogs inspire me so much that I list them on my blog so that I can easily keep track of these amazing families. I encourage you to visit them too.

Parenting is a tough job, a selfless job. The rewards are plentiful, resplendent and soul warming but nebulous at times.

I do think as parents, special or not, it is natural to want to pave the way for our kids. We want to open up doors of opportunity that will light a fire for their happy futures. We all want the best possible life for our kids while taking into account their skills, challenges and aptitudes. Whether you are trying to get your kid into an excellent college or trying to help your kid to hold a paint brush. It is all relative.

This we have in common with every other parent in the world, throughout time. Our common thread with humanity.

The Mom Song

The Mom Song from Northland Video on Vimeo.