Category Archives: parenting
Awkwardly Idle
I woke with great aspirations of becoming a highly successful matchmaker for lonely socks. You know that basket that has hidden in the back of my closet for months wishing children valued quarters just a little bit more? Bribery has ceased to be effective. What’s worse?
This is my first full day at home alone in more than seven years. Seven years, six months and four days, to be exact.
I haven’t a clue what to do.
Yes, I know there are millions of things I could be doing. After my dreams of becoming Yente, I thought maybe I should purge and re-organize the abyss of plastic taking up an entire corner of my kitchen cabinets. My house is already clean, and the laundry is going. I know there are more tasks around here than those. I could sew that quilt I’ve been planning for months or finally hem the curtains in the bathroom. Or finish a few more purses. Or write. Or read. Motivation eludes me.
While talking with the kids the other night I asked them “What am I going to do when you’re gone all day?” Ellie suggested that I relax.
How does one do that again?
One more experienced and well-intentioned friend suggested I take up shopping. That’s what she did. Another suggested going to the movies. That’s what she did. Neither of those options appeal to me too much. And so I sit awkwardly idle waiting until it’s time to collect my precious charges from school.
What I’ve Learned (so far) this Week
It’s only Wednesday and already I’ve learned much this week. Here are a few of those morsels.
There is a reason for setting brakes on wheelchairs before folding and carrying them. A very good reason that may cause great pain to anyone who ignores or forgets to follow that advice.
Procrastination can be useful. For example, if you leave bags of old clothes for Salvation Army in the back of your van for weeks, you’ll have a perfectly suitable cover for a wheelchair when the temperatures exceed 90 degrees.
Black wheelchairs get very, very hot in July.
A women’s large tee-shirt fits perfectly over the back of a medium-sized reclining wheelchair. (Short sleeves are best as they leave the grips and levers easily accessible.)
A seven-year-old girl can lose 9 pairs of shoes under her brother’s bed.
My daughter has more than 9 pairs of shoes. (!!) I’m afraid to actually count how many pairs she has, and I trust that some of those don’t actually fit well anymore. Regardless, it seems an early fetish has already taken root and, as the first (paternal) and only granddaughter on the East Coast (paternal and maternal), she is fully supported by all extended family members.
“Irregardless” is in the dictionary and no matter how many times I insist that it should never be used, my husband will still insist that, because it is in the dictionary, it is perfectly acceptable English. It is not. And whoever decided to put it in the dictionary should be severely punished. I recommend a stern beating with a real dictionary. A real thick one.
Binding a child does not prevent them from growing. Also, as evidenced by my son’s tiny tush squishing out the bottom of his cast, some kids grow much faster than the doctors predict.
It is possible to look forward to cutting toenails. Weird, but definitely possible.
A temporary handicapped parking permit costs only $4 in my area. It is good for six months and, after experiencing weeks of stress in parking lots, I can say it is worth every single penny and more. I also learned that I should have applied for one before the distributing official went on vacation.
And finally …
My son is amazing. Okay, so this is not entirely new information, but my understanding of this truth has deepened. I’m pretty sure he’s a better person than me. He has been so patient and simply accepting of this whole situation. While I’ve fumbled and fussed and sweat over all of this, he has been (for the most part) really chipper and positive. I endured bed rest with both my pregnancies and neither “chipper” nor “positive” could ever be applied to me during those times.
At the beginning of this ordeal, we got a two-way monitor for his little man cave. Thanks to that, we can hear him singing each night after we put him to bed. Sweet little ditties of his own. I didn’t catch all the words last night, but the end went something like this: “I love all my family but most of all Mom and Jesus! The end!”
He is rejoicing and I love to hear it. I want to be like that when I grow up.
Like this:
Only Two More Days
Zach’s cast comes off on Wednesday. Only two more days! How exciting is that?
At the risk of sounding like an absolutely despicable mother, I’m a little sad to see this end. Oh, I know last week I mentioned how the time seems to have flown for everyone but us. I talked about how difficult this has been and how we could hardly wait, but now that the end is so near, I have to say time is going by too quickly. It’s not that I want my son to remain bound; it’s just that I have treasured this time with just the two of us. I have relished these moments in which he is so vulnerable and sweet and welcoming my tender care.
Kids grow up in a blink. He turns six next month. Will these be my last days when he actually wants me to hold him? How many more times will I hear that tender voice ask me for help? How long until his independence replaces his desire to cuddle with Mama? Read the rest of this entry
When a boy breaks his leg …
When a five-year-old boy breaks his leg, his x-rays may look like this:
From the top, you can see that his femur broke into three pieces.
From the side, you can see that those pieces overlapped one another at a rather painful angle.
… his sister writes him lots of little love notes while nervously waiting in the ER.
My favorite is the one on the top far left. It simply says “Be ok. Be ok. Be ok.” She was so scared.
When a five-year-old boy breaks his leg weeks before summer break, he misses the last three weeks of school, the end of baseball season, VBS, Sunday School, swim parties and 4th of July fireworks, but his cousins may still envy him because … Read the rest of this entry
Like this:
Trying on Homeschool
This weekend I did something I’ve often thought of doing, but had never actually done. I created lesson plans.
I’m so excited about it! The appropriate word may be “giddy.” And the good news is that the kids are pretty excited about it, too. Before I show you what I made, let me back up a bit.
I’ve toyed with the idea of homeschooling a few times. A number of my friends do it to differing degrees and for different reasons. We faced tremendous difficulties — educationally, socially and spiritually, both our kids and us as parents — this year when we switched from private Christian school to public school. (You can read a bit out that here. I didn’t write half of what we faced because (1) it’s too personal and (2) this blog is too public.) We are hopeful for a much better year beginning in September and are not currently considering formal homeschool.
That said, I simply can’t abide an entire summer in which brainless activities fill a void of structure. On top of that, I want to strengthen any weaknesses and bridge any gaps residual from this past school year. So into the dressing room I go to try on homeschooling. Just for the summer. Read the rest of this entry
The Newest Dennis Adventure
Not all of you are on facebook, so you may be a bit in the dark about this week’s happenings around here. It’s been rather exciting in a totally “this-is-not-what-we-would-have-planned-but-God-is-still-good-and-in-charge” kind of way.
Here’s the story.
We went to Pennsylvania on Sunday to visit family. After dinner Rick and his mom took the kids to a super cool wooden playground. It was there that Zach, while running and chasing and having a wonderful time, somehow got his foot caught and flipped so that, when Rick turned toward the screaming, Z was suspended upside down over monkey bars with his leg still caught in the platform above. Read the rest of this entry
A Perfectly Perfect Morning
My kids are on spring break. We had planned to spend this week with friends from their old school, but they’re all on break next week. So it’s just me and the munchkins. That may sound quite delightful — in fact, I thought it would be fun! And then I remembered how long it has been since I’ve been stranded trapped blessed to have my kids home with me all day every day. Read the rest of this entry
Calling all mothers of tweens and teens!
As a reviewer and Managing Editor of Christian Children’s Book Review I read a lot of kids’ books. A LOT. Since we expanded our reviews beyond picture books to chapter books and more, I’ve been reading a lot of teen and tween titles. Some of them are truly tremendous books. I’m really enjoying them! But I haven’t a clue about age-appropriateness.
My problem is two-fold. First, it’s been a long time since I was a teenager. Second, my daughter is six. Neither she nor I hang out with teenagers.
So, I need your help. How do I determine what content and language is age-appropriate?
How do you, mothers of tween and teen girls, decide how much is too much?
This age range of 12-18 is vast. The expanse of development, maturity and topic relevance boggles my mind. Our culture includes underage drinking, teen pregnancy, substance abuse, eating disorders, violence and so much more. At what point does this go from engaging the culture and facing these problems from a Christian perspective to educating and tempting a vulnerable and curious generation?
The title I am currently reading deals with a girl who gets pregnant just before her 15th birthday. It is told in first person and, while it doesn’t include any details of sex or genitalia, it does get inside her head and the personal thoughts she experiences. Is this one of those situations where you need to understand where someone is before you can clearly grasp the gravity of the mistake? Most kids don’t want to read about someone who is younger than them. However, at what age would I let Ellie read this? Do I want 12-, 13- and 14-year-olds reading about a pregnant peer?
I am not trying to start a debate here, but rather an open discussion. I honestly just want your experience and thoughts on this. We cannot ignore that these issues pervade our culture, so how do we (as parents and families) engage these situations without over-exposing our kids?
TALK TO ME.
A new milestone
Ellie lost her first tooth last week somewhere in the middle of Ohio. (We caught it in a medicine cup to save for the Tooth Fairy.) She lost her second tooth the very next afternoon. We’ve entered a whole new stage of parenting.
Please help me!
Eeyore has moved into my house. He’s a lovable grump on TV, but when he takes over the body of a normally happy four-year-old, he’s really, really … unpleasant. I want my son back! The whine flows freely, but I’m out of cheese. I have no idea how to eliminate this malcontent.
Yesterday was the worst day we’ve had so far. The whine started at sun-up and continued all day long. All day! A trip to our favorite bookstore included several warnings, a threat and a follow-through. We put restocked planned purchases then spent a full ten minutes in the bathroom waiting for Zach to stop screaming.
I know I can be prone to exaggeration. I’m not exaggerating! TEN FULL MINUTES. During that time and the preceding march of shame to the bathroom (also to the soundtrack of a tantrum) I received several mean glares from other customers, one sympathetic glance and one rather concerned inquiry.
Since Ellie behaved beautifully throughout this whole ordeal, I promised to buy her a book on the way out. This, while teaching both kids that good behavior is rewarded and bad behavior is not, spawned a new wave of sobbing and begging which only got louder once we reached the car.
This morning Eeyore met us again, even before the hall light lit.
Please, please help me. I’m open to suggestions! We’ve taken away toys, we’ve given time-outs, we’ve eliminated privileges, we’ve had long heart-to-hearts and memorized applicable Scripture. I don’t know what else to do.
I know whining never really goes away. I mean, we adults have our turns, too! But is there a way to decrease it? What do you do with your kids?
Photo by Lasse Damgaard via redbubble.com.
