Yarn Along January 18

Going to try to at least keep up weekly yarn along posts. With a bit of what I'm up to thrown in. Visit Ginny for lots of other yarn along fun.
Reading: The Paris Wife
Knitting: Earflap Hat from Knitting For Baby by Melanie Falick & Kristin Nicholas

I've now finished The Paris Wife. I really enjoyed it. It was my pick for the book club I belong to. If you enjoy Hemingway's novels, this is an interesting look at his early life before he became renowned. My favorite part of the book? When Hadley knocks on his studio door, he asks, "Who is it?" and she replies, "Your wife!" I could hear the angry vehemence, but also the anguish in her voice as I read it.

Knitting a sweet hat for M, hope to get it done while there's still a need for a warm hat.

We're just busy with life, and I find it's much easier to read blogs than write one. I am concerned that we are surviving and not thriving. I've voiced the concern to my husband, but we are not sure how we go about correcting... Can I blame it on winter? I want to, but I know it's more than that. At least we are thinking on it.

Better go join a sweet boy for breakfast.

Ain't Disbehavin'

That's an H on that green sticky note. After I made H's birthday cake and he and C frosted it and the cake cover went on, he brought the sticky note over and put it on top. (If you can't tell it has an H written on it). You know, in case we were confused about whose birthday cake it really was, or Mommy or Daddy got any ideas about a sweet snack during the night ;) He gets it honest, I am very -um- particular about my stuff. In my defense, I had some bad lending experiences in the past (way past, like third grade) that really made me guard my possessions.

I try to type into my iPhone all the funny comments H makes, so I thought I'd share a couple:

One evening before we left to go out to dinner, he was not behaving well at. all. When I asked something like "what is wrong, why are you so upset, are you going to act like this at the restaurant?" he replied, "That's why I'm acting like this because I wanted to disbehave in the restaurant." The ironic thing is, I really think he meant he wanted to BEhave at the restaurant. Ahh, sometimes it's hard to keep a straight face as the parent.

In early December '09, we were reading our nightly Bible story. After reading Jonah and the Whale, he asked how the whale knew to spit Jonah out. I said, "God told him to." H's reply: "I didn't know whales spoke God."

He's just too smart (in more ways than one). A cutie too! I do love that kid!

Side note: Fourteen (14) One Four. That is the number of gray hairs C pulled out of my head last night. He'd fallen down on the job since the whole hospital/ER fiasco that was our Christmas and New Year. Yes, I do have him pluck them out (I laugh in the face of that old wives tale about 'for every one you pull two take its place'). Let's hope that this surge in graying was a result of all the trauma from said fiasco and not a recurring event. I hope to have some pictures of some sewing and knitting and even crocheting up soon. Must get my IT guy on those pictures ASAP.

Sometimes, a picture...

...really says it all.

Bumper Crop

We harvested our first two squash a few weeks ago, and both boys were quite excited, sure to point them out to Daddy when he arrived home the evening of the day we picked them. It's fun to see their interest in our tiny garden. They help me water the plants and like to walk over to "take a look" at them. C fried those squash up recently (using an egg from our neighborhood for the egg-wash before flouring). They were yummy.Plants aren't the only thing growing around our home. Looks like my oldest is going to need some new pajama pants come fall.




















These are some berries and berry stems off a few of our trees. On the first day he began picking them, H explained that he's making a few collections for me because I am special. Then a few days later, he was gathering some more and said, "You're our mom and Dad's wife, so you are special." Now, hearing words like that is, indeed, a bumper crop.

Are You Quacking Yet?

Over the past three days, I've been living to a new mantra: Let it roll off your back, like water off a duck. When I think it, I even give a little shimmy, like I am shaking that water right off. You see, Monday night, H was throwing a a stuffed puppy around, and it ended up under our bed. I was having to fish it out first with a coat hanger, then with the handle of a toilet bowl cleaner, and I got angry -um- mad, really pretty mad. I just let loose with a scream, and W burst into tears. I apologized to both boys, but I decided that is not enough. I have to make a serious commitment to letting some things go. Obviously, I wasn't angry about having to get the toy. I was upset that the night time routine had gotten screwed up. Still, who cares? How often does anything go perfectly? So, today, when W was throwing food off his high chair tray and dumping milk on the floor, C looks at me and says, "Are you quacking yet?" (obviously I'd told him all about my new mantra, had to explain my shimmy-ing and all) And you know what? I am quacking pretty darn well. I still raise my voice, but I quickly remember to tell myself: shake it off, girl, water off a duck. Later today, we took the boys to a nearby walking park and fed a mother duck and her ten adorable ducklings some bread, and I paid attention. I noticed those little ducklings didn't stick to momma like glue, but as soon as she quacked, they fell right in line. So, my plan is to try to speak more softly (most of the time), so that when I give a loud quack, I find all my ducks in a row!

With Sprinkles on Top

Yesterday was my four year-old's last day of soccer clinic. I've been excited to see him following directions so well, and he even won the little race yesterday when they ran dribbling the ball and the coach gave him a "good job!" I worry quite often about his social skills with other children. Yes, he goes to preschool. Yes, he can be a great conversationalist with adults. Still, with both of his parents being almost painfully shy with strangers, it worries me. After he got his award certificate and t-shirt yesterday, we headed for the car. While I was buckling him up, he says, "Coach said to raise our hands if we want our parents to take us for ice cream after soccer. Can we do that?" I decided an ice cream treat was just the way to end a good few weeks of soccer. When we were ordering his ice cream (plain vanilla in a cup), the person helping us asked what topping H wanted. I told him that H just likes it plain. He asked again, wouldn't you like some sprinkles, and H sort of gave me the nod. H ate ice cream with sprinkles on top. Now, I know this is probably the norm for most children but not H. I was so excited and thanked the person helping us. We've been working on getting H to try new things (activities, food, etc.), so for me this was a breakthrough. What with going to the local library book club in the evening, I had a day with sprinkles on top!

Take a Breath, Count to Ten

Based on Christy's comment, I am going to try to utilize some of the methods in Kevin Lehman's Have a New Kid by Friday. C really thought H's behavior improved when I was trying to stick with the advice in there. Click here to see my post about the book. (Apparently I meant to post a part two, but that didn't happen). Basically, he says respond don't react, stay cool, and don't make mountains out of molehills. Anyway, I've also decided that my expectations are a bit high for a four year-old. No, he shouldn't be slamming doors, but maybe he doesn't understand why I just threw the toy he was asking for out the bathroom door (that would be to get it away from his little brother who is about to go in the bath). So, I come clean about what made him angry (I hope C doesn't read this one). Still, C and I had a conversation and decided that we completely expect him to act like a rational adult. I think that may be setting the bar pretty high. Also, I find that certain things bring out the contradictory boy in him (being tired, eating). He really wants to make all the decisions himself and call the shots, you know? I guess one thing I struggle with is when to let it roll off my back and when to respond. Sometimes, when he's being contradictory, I'll give him a grin, and he starts to grin back. He can definitely be a bit of a cheeky monkey. Thanks to everyone who commented I responded in the comments on the previous post.

In other news, the weather this weekend was be-yoo-ti-full! We went to the park Saturday morning (if you haven't been on monkey bars in a while, take it easy, I thought I might pull my arm out of its socket). So, we spent lots of time outside, digging in the dirt, practicing some tee-ball, and blowing bubbles! Aahhh, Spring I feel your breath in the breeze.

How Do You Handle Anger?

H knocked a hole in the wall. He slammed the bathroom door open, and the doorstop didn't do its duty. So, the doorknob went through the wall. I am feeling a bit lost. I don't know what to do with that kind of behavior. Should I spank him? Not in the heat of the moment, I am too angry myself. Do I take away privileges like a show he likes to watch? Taking away toys is pointless, unless I take a lot of them or maybe even all of them. I do have a temper, but I promise I don't slam doors. Later in the day, when I was bemoaning the fact that I don't do enough to help him learn, I said, "H, I haven't helped you learn anything today." He replied, "Well, I did learn never to knock a hole in the wall ever again." I had to turn my head to keep him from seeing my grin, but really, it's not funny that he gets that angry. He is not what I'd call a "bad kid," but he does have a temper and always wants the last word. This doesn't bode well for the adolescent years. Is it just his age (4)? Is it a phase? Does he need military school?

Sometimes I feel so alone and helpless in parenting. I am the one who is with him all day, and I just worry that I am not doing everything right. So, how do you handle your child's anger.

The Old Switcheroo

I've been practicing a little reverse psychology of late in order to keep the (relative) peace. H has decided that he is only going to do, eat, read, or watch what he has thought of himself. That's right, if he didn't think of it, then it's nothing doing, folks. One of the funniest things about this is that he will completely deny facts in order to make something his idea i.e., I say that we need to "at least try" to use the potty, by some minor miracle, he does try without a fight and does in fact pee, I say "you did have some pee in there," he says (while a stream of urine is pouring out), "no, I didn't," okay, whatever (I'm thinking), Mommy needs to get you to bed. The other funny thing he pulls is if he likes the idea I've put out there, he makes it his own and denies that Mommy had any hand in it. Something like this:

Me: H, would you like to go outside?
H (imagine a very indignant four year-old): No, I do not want to go outside!
Me: Well, I am going to go put some letters in the mailbox while you stay inside.
H (now a bit whiny): I do, I do want to go to the mailbox.
Me: I thought you might like to go out.
H (completely confident with an almost teenage-like arrogance): No, I said I wanted to go but you didn't.

So, wise mommy that I am, I've learned the ropes (sort of). Tonight I said, "I'm making a sweet potato for you." (Yes, I know this was a mistake, I said I've sort of learned). He immediately starts carrying on, "No, I didn't want that." I jump in quickly saying, "Oh, that's right you wanted scrambled eggs and green peas, not a sweet potato." Now calmer, he replies, "No, no, I want a sweet potato." Great, because it's already cooking! Mommy just pulled a fast one on you!

That's what we've been learning at my house. How to "work" our child's very strong urge to be the boss.

Don't frighten me too much about his future indecisiveness or completely controlling need-to-be-right-and-in-charge-all-the-time tendencies (where did he get those from I wonder? umm that would be from the maternal side) However, if you have a child or know a child like this, please commiserate with me via a comment.

The Wife

I just finished reading The Wife by Meg Wolitzer. You may remember that I didn't think much of another book by Wolitzer (The Ten-Year Nap), but I enjoyed The Wife. I do find her writing a bit slow, but still, I would recommend it. It's also a pretty quick read (a little over two hundred pages). The book flap mentions a surprise that I guessed pretty early on, but even being pretty sure of this "surprise," I found the book interesting and thoughtfully written. I even think I saw some literary tools in it (like character names that reveal character traits). The wife in The Wife is Joan who has been married to the famous novelist, Joe, for thirty something years. The couple have many other "novelist couple" friends, and it seems that being the wife of a novelist is a career unto itself. I believe they were newlyweds in the early 1960's, just to give a time frame, and all the novelist husbands are philanderers to say the least. It is an interesting look at the differences between comfort and contentment, love and need. I remember in high school a question that went around, "Do you love me because you need me, or need me because you love me?" A word of warning: it may make you a bit of a man-hater (at least while you are reading). My newly-wed friend was planning to take this book with her on her honeymoon as we have book club the week after she returns. I sincerely hope she only reads it on the plane, maybe only on the way home!

It was serendipitous that I was reading this book right when this post was written by Anastasia discussing raising sons and the division of labor between genders. In The Wife, and, it seems, also in life, boys and the men they become are given a bit of a pass from certain duties or rules just because they are male. Why is that? Do women prop this up with our seemingly unending guilt? You know, mommy-guilt, wife-guilt, professional-guilt, house-keeping-guilt, contributing to society-guilt, I could go on... like a blister in the sun, but I need to go play some indoor basketball with my boys.

Life Lessons from a Glowstick

At the birthday party H attended this past weekend, they got a bag of favors. One of the favors was a glowstick. One of the children's father turned off the lights briefly for the children to see the glowsticks in action. When the lights came back on, H looked at me and said, "Birthday girl is the best for giving this to me!" He was very impressed with the glowstick. He carried it out to the car, noticing the glow. He kept it right beside him in his car seat on the ride home. He showed it to Daddy and his little brother when he arrived home. He took it in his room at bedtime and placed it on his dresser. I put it on my dresser before I went to sleep. The next morning H asked, "Where is my glowstick?" I gave it to him explaining that it would no longer glow in the dark as they only last so long. He looked at it, took it to the bathroom (where it was dark) to check it out, then came back to me, "Mommy, but I really wish glowsticks would last forever," in a sweet little voice. So, self-help-book-reading mommy that I am, I saw a "teachable moment." I explained that some things that are really fun or beautiful only last for a given period of time: a flower, a perfect-weather day, a yummy snack, so we should really enjoy those types of things when we can, knowing they will soon be gone. This was a good lesson for me as well, right? Live in the moment, put down that iPhone, stop worrying about what you can't change. After all this waxing somewhat poetic, H repeated, "I really wish glowsticks would last forever." I get an A for effort, right?

Overheard at a Birthday Party

Yesterday, I took H to a birthday party for one of his classmates from preschool. While the children were enjoying cake, I heard one of the other moms say to another,

"I didn't realize they are out of school both days next week. My mom is coming to visit, and when I realized they didn't have school, I told her, thank goodness you're coming."

So, here's the thing. I don't feel that way about preschool. AT. ALL. In fact, I feel almost the opposite. Getting H ready and to preschool on time two days a week is much harder than hanging out at home. Trying to get W a good nap before leaving to pick H up again, that's tough. (The mom who was saying this has another little one who I don't think is in preschool or MMO as she looks less than a year old). H's preschool is 9-12. I am usually one of the first folks in line for pick up, because I try to get home in time to get lunch ready at a normal time for everyone. Of course, there's also my germophobia that comes in to play too. I know H is there with all the other children, learning in an environment I can't provide at home, sharing with other children, learning to follow classroom rules and such, but there is always that thought of all those germs. Don't get me wrong. I am so proud of H for learning to go to the potty at school. I love hearing about what he did at school, seeing what he made, but I don't see it as much of a time for me to get things done. While it does provide me with maybe an hour and a half at home while W sleeps, it also requires a lot of getting ready and driving to and fro. It's just interesting to me to know how people in similar situations can view things so differently.

To Sleep, Perchance to Dream

First, let me explain what's been going on with me. I've been sleeping on the couch. Don't worry there's no trouble in paradise, but there are some germs! H started with a sore throat and coughing last Thursday evening (while I was at sewing class, the minute I walk away, the germs must make their move), then W started sniffling Sunday evening, and last, but by no means the least sick, C started feeling bad Tuesday. So, it's been sick house around here (again). Luckily, H and C seem to be mostly better, and W is just still battling a runny nose. Thankfully, everyone slept well last night. I didn't have to get up to give W his pacifier at all! Hooray! The night before was another story altogether. Of course, H said his ear hurt tonight. More to worry about. Every time I ponder a third child, I also question whether I could handle worrying about another one. I know worrying is useless, and if someone could tell me how to push the off button on my worry, I'd be more than happy to give it a try.

I got a new Cookie magazine in the mail today. It's stressing me out a bit. I usually devour my Wonder Time magazine in just a few days. This month, not so much. Cookie? I'm like two and a half issues behind. If I don't read them, I feel like I wasted my money, made a bad decision (oohh the guilt). I'm still pushing through Making Your Children Mind Without Losing Yours. So, who am I blaming? It's the phone, the iPhone, I tell you! I can't put the little handy dandy thing down. Getting W to sleep at nap time? Use the iPhone to browse some blogs. Letting H play in the bath before getting out? Check emails and reply (really browse some more blogs). If only it were easier to comment on blogs and post to this one with the iPhone, then I'd be a bit more productive. I am getting better at commenting from it. It seems the only thing that can make me put down the iPhone is a fiction book. I really am going to have to put the thing in time out (as someone commented at Eat, Play, Love). We really do need to do some serious scheduling in this family.

This is where the dream part of my title comes in, but maybe it can be more than a dream. The boys need to go to bed earlier. Sometimes it's apparent that H should be in bed as he becomes so whiny and irritable. It is just a matter of getting my and C's behinds in gear to get H to bed earlier. Feed him, get him in pjs, do the normal routine, just earlier. W is going to be a bit more of a challenge. He is still taking two naps a day (H did until 18 months), but W's PT has expressed surprise that he's still taking two naps. Not sure if I can expect much before we go to one nap a day. I also have to buckle down and make a weekly menu and grocery shop for it. Right now, my grocery shopping is often haphazard (meaning I don't have a set day, my dad shopped every Saturday morning, why don't I do that?). There's more, but I better get to bed. And, honestly, my thoughts as I drift off to sleep after saying my prayers are of sewing and knitting projects I want to do. There's colorful yarn and glorious fabrics playing before my eyes. No scheduling happening in those dreams.

Just a couple of cute things. W has offered his PT a kiss goodbye on her past two visits, isn't that the sweetest? He also behaved wonderfully during his haircut this week. H used some of his wooden train track to make a track for W and gave him a couple of trains to play with. I told him that was nice of him to share with his brother. He said, "Yes, it is nice, and maybe he won't tear up my track if I let him have his own." Always thinking that little guy :)


Note: I responded to the comments on Meltdown Makers.

Meltdown Makers

I thought it might make some of you laugh (and possibly disturb others) to see a list of what makes my three-and-a-half-year-old have meltdowns.

1) Putting on socks and shoes. The socks feel funny. The shoes are too tight and too loose (sometimes at the same time).

2) Clothes in general. He doesn't want to wear that shirt or those pants. The pants are too loose or too tight (sometimes at the same time).

3) How far his chair is pushed in at the table (it's too close, too far away- sometimes at the same time).

4) The towel in aforementioned chair has the slightest wrinkle in it. It must be fixed. Note: The towel is there in a fruitless attempt to keep my dining-room chairs cleaned. Really we should just get rid of the towel and save ourselves a few tantrums.

5) His car seat straps are too loose or too tight (sometimes at the same time). Also, a piece of fabric that his back touches when he's in the car seat is ever so slightly wrinkled.

6) There is too much or too little juice in his glass (sometimes at the same time).

Those are the main reasons for our battles these days. As you can see from the repetition of the theme "sometimes at the same time," this seems to be more of a test of wills to see who is in charge. However, we do sometimes get a bit worried that he may have some OCD tendencies. Of course, his grandfather (my dad) had folding undershirts, towels (heck, all laundry) down to an art form. When my dad was sick, and I did laundry, he pretty much left the room rather than watch my pitiful attempts at folding! Maybe he gets some of this honest, but it still drives me and C a bit crazy some days. I try to see the humor in some of it and remember, I am in charge. So what makes your children become the Tasmanian Devil?

A New Kid in Five Days - Part One

I haven't finished Have a New Kid By Friday by Dr. Kevin Leman, but I wanted to blog a little about it. First, let me say that I don't like the title, because I don't want a new kid. I love my H, but I would like him to listen and respond more easily, without threats and punishments and endless repeating of requests. Please don't think he's a "bad kid," he just has his moments and issues. IMO, a lot of the book's points make sense. I for one didn't want to hear this, but the author explains that a lot of the reason for a child's bad behavior is you, the parent. Does your child yell at you? You probably yell at him. Does he not behave well when you are out? Are you expecting him to behave well, or do you constantly remind him that he must behave before walking in a restaurant? Yikes! One of Dr. Leman's instructions is to "say it once and walk away." Believe it or not, I am finding that this actually works, not every single time but way more than expected. Another of his tenets is "do not get angry." This one is a hard one for me. I have a bit of a temper (and guess what? so do my children!) However, I am really trying hard on this one. I take a deep breath, do some inside-my-mind counting, and then respond not react (another of his tenets). Another of his points is to encourage children and not praise them, and honestly, I am not completely sure I get this one. He says not to tell them they are the greatest, but to say "Oh you did so and so. I know you've been working hard for that. I am proud of you. We need to tell Dad." I may just be a bit dense, but it doesn't completely make sense to me. It just seems a bit like splitting hairs. I understand emphasizing that they worked to do something and praising the effort and all. He also stresses to not make threats because they are often empty. Aha, finally I do something right as a parent; I generally follow through on my threats (which are usually taking a favorite toy away- not sure that works so well when you appear to be living in a Toys R Us thanks to the grandparents). I am not sure if I'll go full out with all of his teachings, but I do believe that to change my children, I am going to have to make some changes in myself. If you're feeling alone in your parenting struggles, have a piece of cake. I promise it made me feel better after a pre-bedtime cluster.

C-Words and Mops

So, it's been awhile, but I've been busy with some things that start with C. First, circumcision. My poor little W had to be re-circumcised. (I know everyone doesn't believe in circumcision, but we did it, okay. Please don't fuss at me about it). He's a tough cookie, though, and seems to be trucking right along except for a reaction to another C word: codeine. I do not tolerate codeine well, but W seemed to be doing okay with it. Of course, he was dopey, but no rash or anything like that. Then, yesterday, on the way home from taking both boys to the doctor to be sure all they have are colds (yet another C), W throws up all over himself and his car seat. I promise you we were less than two minutes from home. If only I had driven a little faster. We are pretty sure it was a combination of the codeine laced Tylenol and riding in the car. So I now can say I know how to take a Car seat almost completely apart. Thankfully, my mom was with me and able to help get everyone and everything cleaned up. So, no more codeine for W. Let's hope the childen's Motrin can keep him happy. One of the reasons I decided to be sure they have just been dealing with colds is that a friend's son was hospitalized for two nights due to croup/bronchialitis. He is fine now, but I didn't want to risk the boys' colds developing into something more serious. I had believed H to be almost completely well on Monday, but that very night, he woke up coughing several times (coughs- another C-word).

A good C-word this week is cell phone. Due to my husband being a complete phone snob, he decided he must have the newest/latest/greatest iphone. So guess who got his old iphone? That's right, little old, technologically-challenged me! Checking blogs and email from your phone is awesome, addictive, and dangerous (when you really should be paying more attention to other things like driving).

In other news, I've joined a local MOPS group that is just starting its inaugural year. I went to the very first meeting this morning and really enjoyed myself. I think I am going to like it! Thanks to my friend S, who let me know about it.

I'll Back You Up

This past weekend was book club. We discussed The Thirteenth Tale. It was a hit with everyone! Whilst there, I asked two of our members (both of who happen to be nurse practitioners and mothers) about the Meet the Teacher debacle. They totally backed me up! I was a bit surprised. I completely expected them to tell me that I am way over-protective, and H is too high-strung, but instead these ladies said I would have completely been correct in taking him with me to the director's brief meeting. They even thought the preschool should have forewarned the parents of the plan to have the children stay in the classrooms. These two women are not the type to pull their punches, so I feel so much better about it all. Not that it was that big of a deal, but I guess I like to feel like other intelligent women back me up. So, I want to say to H and W, I'll back you up, guys. That's my job as Mommy. I won't always be right, but I will always be trying to do what is right.

The First Day

Yesterday was H's first day at his new preschool, but before I get in to that, I'd like to take you all back to Friday, Meet the Teachers day at the new preschool. H and I walked in with a friend and her son who is only a few months older than H and is in his class. A little later, C arrived to meet the teachers, too. There are twelve children in the class, and the room seemed a bit cramped, particularly with all the parent and siblings in there too! H quickly spots a fire truck to play with and is happily pushing it around while Ms.K is telling us a bit about the activities they will do, how their day flows, what to put in their backpacks, etc. Then she mentions that while the parents go to meet with the director of the preschool, they want to try to keep the children in the classroom. Warning bells go off in my head before H even knows what she's proposing. Sure enough, when I tell him we're going to leave for just fifteen minutes or so, he's crying. Most of the children (who have never been in a preschool environment, remember H has been going to a Moms' Morning Out for a year and a half, although he's been out for the month of August), they're fine, a few, "no, mommy, don't goes," but they settle down. When I go back to get him, truly about fifteen minutes later, he's still doing the "I've been crying" sniffle-breath. Oh no! When I ask him in the car why he's so upset, he says, "he wanted to be with me." When I say, "But you knew Mommy was coming back and was only going to listen to someone talk for a little while." He responds, "But I didn't want you to go listen to someone talk."



So, here's the thing, I am sort of blaming myself. I had told him we were going to meet the teachers, that I would be WITH HIM, not that he would be staying in the class with the other children for a bit. When he started to get upset, I thought of saying, "I told him I would be with him, so I am just going to take him with me," but I was peer-pressured out of it by the other parents leaving their sons and daughters and by those same sons and daughters who were happily staying. I don't know if I did the right thing or not. I think if I had it to do over again, I would just take him with me. So, Labor Day weekend was spent reminding H about the first day of school, and how he's gone to school before, and he's my big, brave boy.



Cut to the night before the first day, I have trouble sleeping. Cut to the morning of, my stomach is in knots. I give him the option of the drop-off line or W and myself walking him in, he opts for the drop-off line (good, b/c it is a to-do to get W out of his car seat, plus when it gets cold outside, I really would rather do the drop-off line). He acts hesitant to get out of the car for the director for about fifteen seconds. Then, he gets out, and goes in to have a great first day! I am praying the next school day goes as well.

What If They Really Do Spoil Rotten?

W turned one a few weeks ago, so now we have even more toys to trip over =) While I am very appreciative of the gifts our children receive, the number of toys they have is really ridiculous. So I want to take a look at how all these toys have amassed. First, many of the guests at the birthday party brought a gift for my three year-old in addition to a gift for the birthday boy. I understand the thought process, and I guess I don’t really mind a small gift for the sibling(s) who is not celebrating a birthday. However, my mom brought H a real gift. Now, granted it is a pretty cool gift (that’s it in the picture), and both the boys enjoy playing with it. But, why? My MIL told my husband she was bringing a gift for H b/c she “didn’t want him to feel left out.” My husband reaction to this was “Isn’t that our job? To worry about whether or not he feels left out?” (He didn’t say this to her… oh that he would!) I have an older brother, and I don’t remember receiving gifts on his birthday. Is this just more of the consumerism everyone is talking about? It’s kind of like wedding favors. I told C, “The favor at our wedding is the free beer, wine, and food!” I know some may say favors are fun, and don’t get me wrong, I like them myself most of the time. But, I don’t like that people feel pressured to provide them.

Back to the mountain of toys, the other way we get them is from the grandmothers. For some reason, they do not believe they can visit without bringing a gift. For a time, my MIL did not show up without a balloon. Seriously. Neither one lives more than twenty minutes away, so it’s not like they only visit twice a year or something. Now, I know some of you are reading this and asking, have you talked to them about this? Yes, I have (at least my mom). It doesn’t work, and in fact, this is a big part of the reason I don’t ask her to come over more often. It makes me angry b/c both of my children love their grandparents without the toys. Why do they feel compelled to bring things, when the boys are just so happy to spend time with them? I know that many say grandparents are supposed to “spoil” their grandchildren, and I agree in a way. I want the boys to be “spoiled” with their grandparents’ time, and by that I mean, playing with them when they are here. My grandma always had my favorite lemon pound cake baked when we visited. My grandmother saved the bowl of batter for me when she made muffins (I’m sensing a food theme here). I honestly can’t say that I remember a gift they got for me, but I remember that they knew what I liked to eat and made it especially for me, they sewed with and for me, and gave lots of love and memories. So, please tell me how do I stop this constant gift-giving?

Swim, Boy, Swim

I am a phan! Please don't take issue with my use of the word boy; it's not derogative. I use the same term when watching football (then it's run, boy, run). Also, I feel a bit like an old lady watching 23 year-old Michael Phelps! So, Friday night, watching the 100m butterfly race, I was up on my knees on the bed, both fists pumping the air, whisper-screaming, "Swim, boy, swim" (no real screaming, my one year-old had just fallen asleep on the bed)! I do not know Michael Phelps, but he appears to be a pretty stand-up fellow. He obviously respects and adores his mother and sisters. In interviews with his relay teammates, he always gives the teammates their due and doesn't hog the spotlight. Also, his teammates say they are proud of him. I think that speaks volumes. So, I couldn't stay awake for last night's race, but the first thing I asked my husband when he woke up was "did you watch the relay last night?" After getting a yes, "did they win?" After getting the boys breakfast, I'm reading the yahoo article on Phelps's eighth gold and crying (I know, laugh if you want). Then, I'm on nbcolympics.com watching the video of the relay and medal ceremony. I know some folks take issues with him wearing his ipod until the last couple of minutes. Who cares? If that's his routine, so be it. I'm proud of him. I've enjoyed watching the events he's participated in (and a lot of others, too, the twelve hour difference is getting to me). Maybe he has displayed some bad qualities or used curse words in interviews (that really makes me mad, don't these athletes know children and young adults look up to them?), but I have not seen it. (Feel free to comment and let me know if he has, but first know that what he listens to on his ipod will not change my opinion). This quote from an article by Dan Wetzel on Yahoo Sports struck me:

“It’s been nothing but an upward rollercoaster,” Phelps said. “It’s been nothing but fun.”

I interpret that as: it's hard work, but I've loved every minute of it! Also interpreted as, hard work pays off, nothing in life is free, or one of my sixth grade teacher's favorites, nothing from nothing leaves nothing, you give me nothing, you get nothing (okay, that one might be a stretch). So, Phelps exhibits humility, responsibility, strength of body and mind, drive, esprit de corps, and elan...sounds like qualities I want my children to have and to have myself. Sounds phantastic!