Tag Archives: Kids

The Years are Short

4 Replies

Originally posted October 7, 2010

 *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

My fifth-grader came home this week with instructions for his first research project.  A research project.  My baby.  The youngest of my three kids.  The one who’s never supposed to grow up.  I remember like it was yesterday sitting at the kiddie table in my den with a bucket of crayons, and the lesson of the day was “staying in the lines.”  It really can’t be that long ago…  Now we have to do a research project.

He chose Marco Polo as his subject.  In the coming days we’ll be learning about Marco’s life and adventures, and I’ll be trying to get a 10-yr old boy in modern America to relate to the concept of an “undiscovered” world.  I’m not looking forward to that.  But what I am looking forward to is sitting at the table with him, having his undivided attention, and holding on to him for a moment.

As any mom will tell you (especially one with at least as many kids as I have) is that days are long.  We rise early, ready ourselves, wake the family, make sure everyone’s fed, wearing the right uniforms, delivered to the right schools at the right time, then start our day.  As soon as we get a little momentum, it’s almost time for the school bell to ring — and then the real chaos begins.  Carpool, after-school activities, homework, dinner, showers and bedtime.  Just getting it all done takes drill-sergeant-like qualities, which don’t necessarily bring out the best in a mom.  I know from my frequent chats with other moms that I’m not the only one who collapses as soon as the last kid hits his pillow.  We’re wiped out long before then.

Each day seems like a long journey.  But then they run together, and the time compresses, and before you know it one is in college, one is in high school, and one has to do a research project.

The days are long.  But the years are short.

The Athlete

6 Replies

Five hours of travel and waiting around for 18 minutes and 40 seconds of glory.  Worth every moment so I could watch my pale, wisp-of-a-kid run his first 2-mile cross country meet!

Run like the wind, Little Man!

Boy Caves – or Why I let my son’s room look like this (and other parenting rules I break).

43 Replies

The Caboose's Boy Cave

There’s something I really hate about my kids.

They’re slobs.

But I’m OK with that.

Now.

I had this realization when I was trying to enter Slick’s room recently, but was stopped a few feet in the door by the arrangement of debris and furniture.  I made a comment about not being able to walk around all the stuff, expecting a guilt-ridden boy to hop up and clear a path for me.  Instead he replied, “I like it that way.”

It took me a minute to process what he said.  Then I looked around, and from where he was sitting, on his big, oversized chair next to his bed, everything was perfect.  His laptop was within reach, the table he does homework on was at his right hand, his gaming chair perfectly positioned in front of the tv with the Xbox nestled below.  Sure he had to navigate around things to get to his little cocoon, but once there, everything was at his fingertips.  I just had to look at it through his eyes to see it.

My next stop was The Caboose’s room.  I paused at the door, looking in.  I saw a cluttered, disheveled mess.  Crap all over the dressers, toys pushed to the perimeter of the room, clothes hanging on the closet doors.  Then I went in, and sat in the “clear” area where he sits when he plays.  Everything was within reach.  There were dirty clothes among the toys and shoes scattered about, but when I called him up to ask him if he liked it like that, he said that he did.

I’ve tried many times to clear some of the junk from their rooms.  We go through the clutter, item-by-item, and I ask if they’re ready to part with things.  The answer is always the same.  Those dust catchers are markers of their lives.  Souvenirs from vacations, sports memorabilia from favorite teams, art projects they made themselves.  Every piece is part of them, and they want them there.  The collection continues to grow.  The clutter stays.

They may go a few days without putting clothes in the hamper, but eventually it gets done.  The consequence is theirs when the shirt they want to wear isn’t clean.  And they always manage to find the shoes they need, and seem to know right where to look.  Perhaps there really is some organization amongst their chaos.  I just don’t understand the methodology.

As for the closet doors being open (a pet peeve of mine), I saw it as a sign of maturity.  There are no longer monsters in that closet, so there’s no need to close the doors to keep them in.

That particular day The Caboose’s covers and pillows were on the floor, a reminder that he has recently taken to sleeping beside his bed instead of on it.  At first it was just on weekends, like a one-man sleepover, but then he started sleeping on the floor every night.  He said he liked it.  I resisted at first, because you’re not “supposed” to do that.  But he was sleeping, which was the goal, so I allowed it.  He kisses me goodnight, and crawls into his little space without a peep.  Another parenting standard out the window.

This was an epiphany for me. 

Children have very little control over their world.  They spend most of their waking hours trying to accommodate the requests of parents and teachers, much of the time operating in a manner that’s not in their comfort zone.  We tell them when to go to bed, when to wake up, what to wear, where to go.  Teachers tell them where to sit, what page to turn to, when the can go to the bathroom.  I started feeling like the least I could do was to cut them a little slack about their room.

I needed to put into practice the best parenting advice there is:  Choose Your Battles.

It would be easy to fight constantly with your kids, because adults and kids have very different views of things.  But there are things that really matter, and things that really don’t.  And I’m going to start giving less importance to the things that don’t really matter, and saving my ammunition for the things that do.  The worst thing we parents can do is exert control over our kids just because we can.

So if you stop by, and my kids’ rooms are a mess, don’t expect an apology.  As long as they stay within the parameters we agree on (safe passage to and from the bed, closet, and door) I’m going to give them some latitude.  And let them have their Boy Caves the way they like them.

Perfect House?? Puh-lease.

31 Replies

The other day I was blog hopping and stumbled upon 31 Days to Clean: Having a Martha House the Mary Way.  Curious, I clicked a few links and found out the premise: Following a detailed plan to do some REALLY detailed cleaning in your house, a little every day.

I must admit, I felt a little enthusiastic at first.  I’m picturing my house at the end of the 31 days, gleaming all over, and no trace of cobwebs under the dining room table or pawprints on the living room windows.  I’m hosting a party in late October, and the “new and improved” version of my house would be a pleasure to show off in such a state.

I looked a little closer.  At first thought, this sounded like a really great idea.  I peeked at the calendar like it was the Holy Grail.

Day 3: Dust the top of the refrigerator, cabinets and shelves.  Clean and shine outside of cabinets.  OK, I can do that.

Day 9:  Sweep, vacuum, and mop kitchen floors.  Add some fresh flowers to brighten your day.  Sounds great.

Day 15: Wash bedroom mirrors, walls, and insides of windows.  Wash window treatments.  Dust ceilings.  Huh?  Dust ceilings??

Day 24:  Clean out desk.  Clean out and update files.  Organize office supplies and drawers.  Clean out files?  Can’t I just get another file cabinet??

But it all sounded reasonable, so I started thinking about when I could kick off my house cleaning binge effort.  It was about that time that I realized this plan was a couple-hour-a-day plan.  When was I supposed to do all the stuff I already do every day?  Between buying fresh flowers and dusting ceilings, when was I supposed to do laundry, clean toilets, make beds, cook meals, feed the dog, water the plants, and all the other stuff I try to get to every day but manage to fall short??  The last thing I need is another plan to make me feel even less adequate than I already do.

These steps amounted to about 2 hours a day.  Now, if I cleaned my house for 62 hours – with or without a plan – it would be spotless.  So this idea was a total scam.

As I pondered the mission over a glass of wine for a few minutes, I came up with an alternate plan:  31 Minutes to Clean:  How a Real Woman Gets It All Done.

Anthea Turner, Perfect Housewife.

Supplies needed:  a couple of garbage bags, scented all-purpose cleaner, toilet brush, vacuum cleaner, Swiffer cloths, cleaning wipes, and a scented candle.

Step 1 (5 minutes) – Collect garbage.  Nothing screams neglect like garbage cans that are spilling over.  Empty all the trash cans, and roam through the house checking for garbage.  Pay extra attention to the space behind teenagers’ beds.  This is where they like to hide the trash from the snacks they’re not supposed to be eating in their rooms.

While you’re at it, pick up all the dirty clothes they left on the floor and toss them in a hamper.

Step 2 (5-7 minutes, depending on how many bathrooms you have and the gender of your children) – Splash some scented cleaner in the toilets.  Swish it around and flush.  If you have male children, wipe the areas around the toilet, because they can’t aim.

Step 3 (6 minutes) – Pull the covers up on all beds.  You have about 2 minutes per room for this step, so make ‘em count.  Smooth the covers and place the pillows at the top of the bed.  If you have decorative pillows, toss them on, too.

Step 4 (3 minutes) – Pick up the clutter in the living and dining room.  Keep a few decorative baskets around so you can toss things in and make it look like it’s supposed to be there.  Grab a Swiffer and give the horizontal surfaces a quick wipe.

Step 5 (5 minutes) – Run the vacuum cleaner through the traffic paths.  Make sure you go in one direction so the carpet will stand up in a pattern, and visitors will know you vacuumed.

Step 6 (3 minutes) – Throw dirty dishes in the dishwasher.  Rinse the coffee pot.

Step 7 (3 minutes) – Wipe the counters with a scented wipe.  Don’t buy the cheap ones, they leave streaks and cause more work.  I like Mrs. Meyer’s Clean Day Wipes.  They’re pricey, but they smell good.  And a house that smells good must be clean, right??

Step 8 (5 minutes) – Run a vacuum over tile and wood floors.  Spritz tile with a little scented all-purpose cleaner to make it smell clean.

Step 9 (1 minute) – Light a scented candle.  (Using the same scent will help you pull off the illusion.)  A good scented candle can make up for a lot of neglect.

For those of you inclined to check my math, that’s about 36 minutes.  But you get my point.

Real women don’t have time to do dust ceilings or update files.  We’ve got kids to raise, parents to tend to, meals to cook, and some of us even have jobs.  And helping with homework.  Don’t get me started on the homework.

So take my advice.  Forget about having a perfect house while your kids are little. If there’s no dust under your refrigerator, then you probably missed out on something.

And know they love you.

11 Replies

Letting Go. Artist: Sue Kafka-Ellis http://www.art-base.org

A self-proclaimed dispenser of wisdom, I recently shared a parenting thought with Louise over at I Choose Happy Now.  She wrote a post about sending her first-born off to Pre-K, and the tug on her heart as he reached this milestone.

I shared with her one of my favorite little pearls of parenting wisdom:  Roots and Wings.

The full quote, from Southern journalist and author Hodding Carter states “There are two lasting bequests we can give our children: One is roots, the other is wings.” 

The roots part is what we usually think of as parenting.  Teaching them right from wrong, good manners, faith.   Giving them roots brings us closer to our kids, because it’s a time when we’re instilling in them values we want them to have, molding them into the people we want them to become.

The wings part is much harder.

There are the small steps.  Sending him off to Pre-K, wondering if he’ll be able to open his Ziploc bag at snack time.  The first day of second grade, wondering who she’ll eat lunch with.  Or the rite of independence The Caboose experienced last night: wandering the stadium with his friends at a football game while we sat vigil over the popcorn.

Then there are the big leaps.  Going on her first date.  Getting his driver’s license.  Going away to college.

My friend Stacy was the first to chant the “Roots and Wings” mantra to me back when The Trailblazer was in high school.  With her first-born a year older than mine, she shared with me her anxiety as her daughter left for college.  Assuring her that her baby girl was ready for the real world made me realize that I had to accept the same.  (I mean, if you can’t take your own advice, you’ve got no business dispensing it, right?)

One of the hardest lessons of parenting is realizing that our REAL job is to prepare them for their time without us.  Whether that time is 9 to 2 at preschool, four years at college, or the independent adult life they will someday live without us.  We’ve got to teach them well, and then let them go.

It’s all about Roots and Wings.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ztVaqZajq-I

OK, so he had a growth spurt.

11 Replies

I can’t always talk on the Internet about the stupid funny things Slick does, because occasionally he and The Trailblazer are so bored they read my blog.  (Usually during class…)  But today the lad threw me a bone.

The Mass of the Holy Spirit was today.  The students at Jesuit High School forgo their military-style khakis and wear a coat and tie on this day every year for the occasion.  Today Slick thought it would be funny to wear his old fish tie.

I love this kid!!

Going up to communion, last year’s history teacher caught a glimpse and started snickering.  This triggered a snickering contagion that passed through my son.   I’m completely stunned that he did not get Penance Hall for this.  And that lightning hasn’t yet struck him down for his irreverence.

And I’m glad I wasn’t there.  Because I would’ve peed in my pants laughing.

Rites of Passage Sure Have Changed

8 Replies

I keep a short leash on my boys when it comes to certain things.  The big kids weren’t allowed to have a Facebook page until they were in high school, and then only under my watch.  Slick and The Trailblazer didn’t have internet on their phones until recently.  The poor Caboose is the ONLY sixth-grader on the planet that doesn’t have a cell phone at all.

So last night was a bit of a big night.  The Caboose sent his first email.  To his dad.  Then one to The Trailblazer up at LSU.  (Then we had to call his big brother to tell him to check his email.)

His new school is very “21st Century,” and most of their curriculum is based from the laptops every student is issued.  They have school email addresses, and they use email as their primary means of communication.

He showed me how to open up Outlook to check his email like Bill Gates must’ve done once to show the world.  I oooh-ed and aaah-ed, and gave a proud smile.  He had two messages in his Inbox from teachers.  And now he has two in his Sent Items as well.

I saw no need for an email address until now.  (The fewer paths pedophiles have to contact my kid the better.)  But his school has an extremely aggressive filter on their services (and it’s required), so whether I was ready or not, it was time.

He’s now entered the world of electronic communication.  And I’m sure he’ll be toting a cell phone before too much longer.  But it won’t have internet.

Happy Birthday, Little Man

19 Replies

He wore that jersey for three days straight. Since he hasn't gone through puberty yet he can get away with that.

I thought my life was perfect.  Two terrific sons, a wonderful husband, a new house with a spare bedroom.  I didn’t think it could get any better.  Then you came along, and the relatively calm life we had with two kids gave way to the new hustle of three.

Your brothers were easy.  You were hard. There were times when I resented the amount of effort it took to get through the day.  But that was because I hadn’t yet learned what God wanted me to figure out.  That you were the child who would complete me.  That you were the one I still needed.

For you are the person who made me realize the greatest truth in life:  that we are all EXACTLY what God wants us to be.  There have been people along the way who didn’t get you, who thought you needed to change, to fit in a little better, to be more like the others.  I must confess that I even thought that a few times.  But watching your conviction to be yourself made me realize this great truth.

Thank you.

Now that you’re getting older, I see the greatness that is in you.  You will do amazing things one day, because you think so big.  I’m not yet sure what that thing will be, but I have no doubt the creativity inside you will one day change the world.  You’ve already changed mine.

This year will bring big changes.  You’ll be leaving boyhood behind soon, entering adolescence.  Manhood isn’t far behind.  But I know it will suit you.  In fact, I think some of the constraints of childhood hold you back and that once you’re free to open up that amazing mind of yours you’ll reach heights even I can’t imagine.  Yes, adulthood is going to suit you well.

So Happy Birthday, Little Man.  Keep rocking the world!

A Mind of His Own

6 Replies

My Gratitude Chalkboard has become fodder for my family.  Some of it I find amusing, some not.  But a few days ago Slick wrote something on it that brought back one of my favorite memories of The Caboose.

(Cue nostalgic, pre-school music.)

When he was 3 years old, he went to a Mother’s Day Out program a couple of days a week.  There was a bulletin board in the hall (where the mommies lined up to reclaim their kids) always decorated with seasonal activities.  When a new project went up, all the mommies would oooh and aaah over their little one’s contribution with pride.

That fall, the Thanksgiving bulletin board went up, and each child dictated to the teacher  (they were too young to write) what they were thankful for, and teacher wrote it down on the little pumpkin cutout beneath their name.  The title of the board was “I am Thankful For…” (wait, now my chalkboard feels much less original).

The wall was full of pumpkins bearing sweet messages of thanks, obviously prompted by the teacher.  Most of the children claimed to be thankful for their families – their parents, their brothers and sisters, a few included their pets.  Some were thankful for their health (yeah, right), and a few for God.  I scan the wall for my son’s pumpkin, so I can beam.

I find it, and it says, “I am Thankful for scissors.”

Huh?

At the time, he wanted to be a barber when he grew up.  (Kid loved getting haircuts.)  And he liked using scissors.  (Probably because he had my undivided attention when using them.)  So it made a little sense.

Then I thought about how this process must have gone.  Teacher asks three-year-old what they were thankful for.  Child looks back at teacher with a blank stare.  Teacher says (nodding), “You’re thankful for your family, aren’t you??”  Child nods back.  Teacher moves on to next child.

Then I thought about my son.  He was probably the only kid in that class who gave his own answer to that question.   Even at three, my little dude saw things from his own, unique perspective.  And no grown up was going to lead him elsewhere.