More Jake-isms

"Shikada," otherwise known as cicada. Very dangerous bugs. If you see one on your screen, quickly shut all the windows in the house.
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Jacob would like to one day have a Star Wars "life saver." I'm sure that's much cheaper than a light saber...

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On a more serious note - Jake has an abscessed tooth. He has been complaining for a week that his tooth hurt, but being the diligent mother that I am, I wrote it off as attention seeking and placated him with placebos instead of seeking dental attention. Then last night he spiked a fever and started complaining of ear pain as well. Today we went to the pediatrician and the dentist. No ear infection (he's prone to them) which is good, but his second to last molar on the bottom right is abscessed. He will need to see an oral surgeon on Friday for a consult and then they will schedule the surgery at the hospital. Because of his age, they won't put him under general anesthesia in the office. Then he will need to be fitted for a glued in spacer to keep his teeth from shifting due to the hole. There's going to be a lot of work in his mouth over the next month. I'll keep everyone posted on how he's doing. Right now the ibuprofen is keeping the pain at bay and amoxicillin is fighting the infection. Poor kid. Maybe I should listen a little better next time he says his tooth hurts!

Andrew's Own Lullabye

You can't see anything on this video, because it was taken at night. When I lay Andrew down each night, he puts himself to sleep by saying, "uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh" over and over, like he's agreeing with me that it's bedtime. I think the sound is so cute that I had to capture it.

Brotherly Love

In the car today, Jacob said, "Brudder, do you like having me for a big brudder mom what'd he say?"

I replied, "He said, of course he likes having you for a big brother. You are a great big brother."

Jacob then said, "Brudder, when our mom was pregnant with you, do you know what I begged for mom what'd he say?"

"What did you beg for?"

"I begged for you, Brudder. Every day she was pregnant, I begged for you."

Kindergarten

Every night, when I tuck Jacob into bed, he asks me two questions. First he says, “Is tonight going to be short?” I think that is some kind of reference to not wanting to be asleep very long and miss out on anything. The second thing he asks is, “Is tomorrow a school day?” Since I stopped working, I have only taken him to Harbor House on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It’s been a nice break for him, a way for us to spend a little more time together, and a bit of a money saver for me. He loves going to Harbor House and seeing his friends. They do great activities with the kids and I think that it’s probably better for him to sometimes spend the day with them, where he can be more engaged, than to sit around with me while I clean and take care of the baby. Nonetheless, he loves staying home too. He always laughs when I answer that tomorrow is a “stay home day,” and truth be told, it makes me feel good to know that he is that excited about spending the day with me. I know that the time when he not only enjoys being with me, but also seeks it out, is limited so I try to take advantage of that while I can.

Last night the bed-time routine was no different. He asked his questions, and I answered. I also added that today (Friday 8/22/08) is the last day of summer camp and that on Monday he will officially be a Kindergartner. I thought this would excite him, that he would be enticed by the prospect of officially being in school and getting older. After all, isn’t growing older our main goal as children, followed by the desire to reverse aging once we finally reach adulthood? Plus, he is going to Harbor House for Kindergarten, the same place where attended preschool for the last two years. It’s not going to be a very big change for him, and I didn’t expect any real transition anxieties. But as usual, what we expect and what we get are often different, and it looks like that may be the case with Kindergarten. Instead being excited, Jacob was sad.

I asked him why he didn’t want to go to Kindergarten and surprisingly, I got a very concrete answer from him. He said, “because I will have to be at school at a certain time every day. There will be no more stay at home days, and there won’t be much play time anymore.” Well, yes. While exaggerated somewhat, all of that is true. For the next 9 months, we will need to get moving in the morning instead of lounging around and heading in whenever we feel like it. He will need to go to school every day, unless it’s a holiday or he’s sick. I understand that part of him thinks that he is missing something when I’m at home with the baby, and he is away. I know, even as an adult, if people are doing something without me, I can at times feel excluded, with or without good reason. Unfortunately, there isn’t much I can do about the fact that he needs to go to school. And, although playtime is far from over, he will need to start working more now than he did in preschool. Of course, I played Kindergarten up for him. He will have Labor day off one week after school starts, and don’t forget about Columbus day, two days off for Thanksgiving and a whole week off over Christmas and there are lots of other holidays between now and June too! I told him he will be doing all kinds of fun things to learn that will feel like playing, but with a lesson - like science experiments, and music class and physical education. Most importantly, he will be officially a big kid now. Just think of the things he will learn, that he can come home and teach his little brother! Likewise, Andrew will be so jealous to see Jacob going away to be with other kids to have fun all day while he has to stay at home with boring old mom. He was appeased by these answers, thankfully, but as I thought about what he was going through, I felt a little unsettled and even a bit depressed for him, not to mention myself.

Kindergarten. Let’s face it, it’s not a big deal. It’s hardly work, and I think many of us look back nostalgically on those days, willing to return to it in a heartbeat, if it were only possible. What does it really mean to us? Crayons, nap mats, mom-packed lunches, show and tell, monkey bars…Yes, kindergarten embodies all of those feel good memories of childhood. However, as my first born enters into it, it doesn’t necessarily evoke elation in me, but rather something more bittersweet. Kindergarten marks the beginning of at least 13 years of schooling (and if he knows what’s good for him, he will also attend college). Starting Monday, he will only be able to sleep until he pleases during breaks from school. He will begin to bring work home, hence the term “homework,” and he will need to, in many ways, truly being his journey to adulthood.

I know it is a bit over the top to say that Kindergarten is the beginning of the end - that Jacob needs to stop his childish ways and grow up. I know he is only 5, he is still just a kid, and he still has lots of carefree time ahead of him before becoming a responsible adult and abandoning his youth. I also doubt that this over-analyzation has even remotely crossed Jacob’s mind. It is yet another example of the endless chatter inside my head, that voice which scrutinizes anything and everything. Sometimes I try to shut the voice off. It often has nothing good to say. But sometimes I listen, if just for a moment. Right now, I know that while we are celebrating the milestone of kindergarten, I also mourn my own loss of sorts - the rapid passing of 5 years, the evolution of Jacob from a helpless infant to a school age child, and the knowledge that his rate of growth will not slow down, but will probably seem faster as the years progress. Today my inner voice told me to be a little kinder to Jake this weekend. To really listen to him when he speaks, to memorize the sweetness of his face, and to take some time to reflect on Jacob and the amazing growth that has occurred over the last five years, not so much for his sake, but more for mine - to imprint a piece of his childhood in my heart.

Again, I hear that saying, “They days are long, but the years are short.” Yes, they are short. I can’t believe that five whole years have disappeared before my eyes. It may be cliché, but it truly feels like yesterday when I was carrying Jacob around as an infant, wondering what kind of person he would become. Now, instead of guessing, I can fully see his personality, and although I can’t completely foretell what kind of person he will become, I can better see his emerging individual with each passing day. Our futures remain wide open. There is plenty of time between now and when my children enter adulthood for a myriad of experiences, both pleasurable and trying, to take us down an unforeseen labyrinth of life lessons, but if there is one thing that I am sure of it is this: that in 13 years, when I am watching Jacob walk across the stage for his high school diploma, I will be experiencing many of the same emotions I have right now, with the addition of a few more, thinking the same thing - that the years are so, so short.

Disillusionment of Motherhood

Today I went to a college friend’s home for a cookout and a gathering of friends. It was a great day. College friends truly are the ones that you never lose contact with. I have a few high school friends with whom I keep in touch, but college pals are the ones that have really seen each other in the trenches and are committed for life. They are the ones who held your hair while you puked (99 Bananas, SoCo, Tequila…), ran from the police for, well, whatever reason it was that you needed to be running :) , and lent their shoulders time and time again when you cried. Girls - you know who you are - you mean the world to me, and I am so glad for my time at Allegheny. Even though I’m still paying out the nose for my education, the decision to attend Allegheny is one of the few things I can look back on and say with 100% certainty that it was the right choice. We’ve been through 13 years of ups, downs and in-betweens, and I have loved each of you all the way!

While I sat on Shelly’s porch today I looked at us and just wondered where the time has gone. When did we go from a bunch of brats with no money trying to score some weed and a designated driver (never Shelly, because she couldn’t stay sober - I say that lovingly, Shel) to actual, bonified responsible adults with mortgages and children??? There we were in a nice neighborhood, a very nice home, a fridge full of beer and cups full of Pepsi (!) and our children running around the yard. While it all felt so normal and comfortable, I still felt a sense of awe - this is MY life…OUR lives…we are the ADULTS here, the people who own the houses, the cars, the kids, etc, and we have changed drastically from partying gals to women who actually choose sobriety over stupidity! I suppose it all happens gradually, over years, so that it isn't overwhelming, but still, there comes a day when you realize that you are your parents (sort of). A new generation has begun, and you are the people responsible for molding these children into tomorrow’s parents.

Most of us now have children, or are in the process of having children. One of us has chosen not to procreate, and one of us has been trying very hard for a long time now to get pregnant. During the conversation, I spoke about how I felt that being a parent was not all that it was cracked up to be, and perhaps said some things that were insensitive to Michelle’s emotions, wanting children so badly. I have a tendency to be very sarcastic and biting at times, and that can be misinterpreted. I’m not sure if I hurt Michelle’s feelings, but regardless, I think the comments deserve some further explanation. Also an apology for being insensitive to the void that she is feeling at this time is in order.

For me, having children was terribly disillusioning. I thought it would be a blissful experience, full of good feelings, and that I would love every moment of it. Before I had kids, when I imagined myself as mother, I thought about rocking my baby to sleep, singing a lullaby, playing on the playground. I thought about all of the things that I would do differently than my own parents, and how I would be such an open, inviting and cool mother. When Jacob arrived, the shock of reality was incredibly hard to swallow. I never imagined the post-partum depression, the frustration I would feel when a newborn wouldn’t stop crying, the stress of getting myself and (now two) children ready to go somewhere, and trying to keep a house in order with my own children as well as the neighborhood children running though it daily. My life is nothing like the fairy tale that I had invented. Even though I knew before I got pregnant that fairy tales are never true, when the crystal ball breaks, it's nonetheless disappointing. I love my boys more than I ever imagined it was possible to love someone, but there is also a lot of stress, anxiety and times when frankly, even though I would never change the fact that I am a mother, I long for the days of simplicity that I lived when I was childless.

When I first became a mother, the fact that motherhood was not what I expected was hard, but what I found even worse was admitting to others that I was not blissfully in love with myself as a mother. Directly following Jacob’s birth, I was profoundly disappointed in myself for not feeling like motherhood was one big blissful event after another. People asked me (as they ask others too, I'm sure) how I liked motherhood, expecting to hear that I love it. The truth is that while it is fantastic sometimes, there are also times when it sucks. All mothers will admit to loving their children and the good emotions that come along with parenting, but few admit that there are times when it's not so great - even though I believe that ALL parents have times when they feel like it's really not that hot. If you are having a particularly stressful day and someone says,” How do you like motherhood?” and you reply, “today I feel like slamming my own head off the wall until I am only conscious enough to handle the bare necessities,” you probably will not get a favorable reaction.

That said, however, if anything happened to either of my children, I would be devastated. The love of a parent for a child, especially a mother for her children, is truly a love to be reckoned with. There is nothing that can describe a mother's love for her children, and no one can fully understand it until they look into their own child's eyes. I remember having an 'aha' moment after Jacob was born, when I felt like I finally understood why my mother did what she did. Her motivations were finally clear to me. I was overwhelmed with the idea that someone loved ME that much and wanted such good things for ME. These are the feelings that only parents understand, and those which make us better (I hope) children to our own parents once our children are born. Nonetheless, I have found motherhood to also be very painful (for me) - pain that comes from constant sacrifice (big and small), from fear of not doing things right, from fear of things that are beyond my control, fear of losing control my myself and a grief for a part of me which is gone.

Before I got pregnant with Jacob, I had an accidental pregnancy. I wasn’t living a healthy lifestyle and I didn’t know I was pregnant until two months into it. I made changes once I found out I was with child, but I lost the baby anyway. There are many possible reasons for why the baby died, some of which could be directly attributed to my lifestyle and also some which were beyond my control. Regardless of why I lost the baby, I still felt a significant loss. Even though I hadn’t planned it, I still wanted the child and I felt incredibly guilty and sad when it was over. At the time, a friend of mine from work was also pregnant. She smoked pot regularly and took for granted the fact that she was carrying a healthy child. I couldn't even talk to her until I was well into my pregnancy with Jake, just because I felt like she had no idea how lucky she really was to be given the gift of life, and I was jealous and angry at her for taking that gift for granted.

At this point in my life, even though there are times when I may regard my position as a mother with sarcasm or seeming disregard, I really do know how lucky I am to be a mother of two beautiful and healthy boys. I may look nostalgically on those pre-children days, but I can’t imagine a life without my children. I wish and pray every day for Michelle and Pete to have the same blessing bestowed upon them. I also wish, however, that any new mother feels the freedom to say without guilt, that motherhood, while awesome in so many ways, isn’t always all it’s cracked up to be. And although every mother may feel that disillusionment at times, it does not mean that we are bad parents or unaware of our blessings- just that we are human - and that’s OK too!

What Andrew Has to Say about Pears

More From the Mind of Jacob

“A bandit ship means get off the boat fast!”
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When I asked Jacob to take a nap recently, he came downstairs after about 5 minutes and told me that he was done taking a nap. I gave him the choice - return to his bedroom and sleep for one hour, or choose not to nap but then stay at home tonight instead of sleeping at my mom’s where he never gets to bed early. He said, “fine. I’ll go upstairs, but you are not the boss of my body, my brain is, and only my brain can tell me to take a nap or not.”
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“Mom, I have a lot of strank now, so I can help you with groceries.”
“A lot of what?”
“Strank. You know, my muscles are getting bigger and I can lift the heavy bags now. Not two, though. Just one at a time.”

A new entry into Webster’s Dictionary -
Strank: (n) a five year old’s version of strength. Biceps strong enough to life one grocery bag at a time. Usually developed by routinely lifting a trampoline, unsolicited furniture rearranging and/or carrying toys into (but not back out of) the yard or neighboring yards.

Dreams For My Children

I think most parents would agree that what we truly want for our children is the best - the best life possible and all that that entails. We want our children to thrive, to live up to their fullest potential and to become happy, successful, independent and well-rounded adults.

While our motivations as parents may be pure and well intended, sometimes they lead us astray in our interactions. We all know too well how it feels to be hurt by someone dear to us, to be disappointed in ourselves, to make mistakes we wish had never happened. We want to spare our children those experiences, preserve their innocence and allow them to learn from our mistakes so that they don’t have to go through the same pains as we did. But the truth of the matter is that we cannot spare our children from all pain. Indeed, they need that pain to learn, to appreciate the good and to be able to become empathetic to the needs and pain of others.

In thinking of the life lessons that I want to share with my kids, I frequently find myself focusing on the aspects of my life that I wish I could change - the things I will tell them as they age to help them overcome the situations I didn’t handle properly. That’s OK, and maybe it’s useful somewhat. Chances are that they will encounter some of the same hurdles that I did, but perhaps that is not the most healthy way to approach teaching my boys. What has pained me in the past or continues to haunt me, those mistakes that I made growing up are not necessarily predetermined paths that my children must also follow. Instead of focusing on my own mistakes, and counting on recreating my life the ‘right’ way vicariously through my sons, perhaps I should simply leave myself open for what the world brings to them, and look at the obstacles they will encounter as means by which I can further grow along with my children.

It is important to have standards and expectations of our children - to have morals and integrity by which we expect them to live. We should, as parents, give them the precedence by which they can achieve their highest potential, and we should encourage them to push themselves to their own personal excellence. But when is enough, enough? How do we know when we have crossed the line from encouraging to overbearing? We all know parents who push too hard and expect too much - that father on the soccer field yelling at his son’s every move or the mother in dance class making sure every last hair is perfectly placed. We roll our eyes at them and think that we would never do that to our children. But don’t we all do those things in some form or another, perhaps more subtly but nonetheless equally as harmful?

In the long run, what good do those unrealistic expectation do? They disappoint us and they make our children feel that they have disappointed us. I think all of us, even as adults, know what it feels like to disappoint our parents. What a terribly belittling feeling, even in adulthood, especially when the disappointing act was not done with defiant intent, but rather out of sincerity.

I notice this trait in myself frequently, especially with Jacob. I expect him to behave maturely, appropriately, politely. When he doesn’t, especially when we are in the company of those I don’t know well, I get angry at him for acting like, well, a 5 year old. Sometimes he acts out because he knows it is irritating me, and shame on him for that. But the fact of the matter is that he is 5, and that’s what 5 year olds do. I am 31, and I should know better than to begrudge him for acting his age. And at 31, I still know what it feels like to think that I have not lived up to my parents’ expectations. Regardless of whether my feelings are self-imposed or factually based, the emotions are equally difficult to stomach.

I don’t want Jacob or Andrew to grow up thinking that they have disappointed me. I want them to grow up to work hard and be good people. I want them to be truthful and kind. Honestly, I would love for them to make lots of money, get married and have several kids, but if that doesn’t happen, then I want them to know that is OK too. It’s OK if they are gay or don’t make a lot of money or never have children of their own, as long as they feel comfortable with themselves and treat others with respect. I want them to know that they don’t have to live the life that I would have chosen for them in order to be loved and accepted by me. I guess these statements are easy for me to make now that my children are 5 years and 3 months. It will be harder to accept their differing opinions as they age and become more adamant in our differences. I am hoping that I will be able to remind myself of my goals as a parent - to provide them with the foundation to make their own decisions. How they build their lives from there is up to them, and how I cope with their decisions is up to me to digest without imposing any of my predeterminations onto them.

Sweet Dreams

Last night before I tucked Jacob into bed, I gave him a hug and told him he was a good boy. He hugged me back and said, "You're a good mom - the best mom a boy could ask for." Aw. What a sweet little guy he is!

The Nicest Kid in the Neighborhood

We have new neighbors. An older couple who lived on Garber street, and whose house shares the private alley behind our house, moved away last week (we'll miss them, they were very nice people) and a new couple from Chicago moved in. The new family has an 8 year old girl and twin 6 year old boys. We were excited to hear that they had arrived, but hadn't yet met the kids. Yesterday, when the Weichel boys were eating dinner, Jacob needed a playmate and spotted the twins playing in their yard. The next thing I knew, he was standing at the top of their yard, inviting them to our house! I told him that the boys were welcome to play in the back yard where their mother could see them. I don't know her, nor does she know me, so I didn't think she would want them out of her sight in a new neighborhood. The daughter yelled that she would let her mom know where they were going to play. Jacob waited patiently at the edge of the yard for them to return. He looked at me and said, "I just thought I would introduce myself. I thought they might like to know me. I really am a nice guy." How nice to have such self-esteem!

Indeed, the boys did like Jake, and when the Wiechel boys returned from dinner, the whole gang played together. It was a wild two hours - with 5 boys running between the yards. They all had fun and Jacob fell asleep before his head hit the pillow!

Andrew's first real meal

This is a video of Andrew's first bite of cereal. How many times can you re-eat the same spoonful? Apparently more than I thought!

The Hickory Street Gang

A few nights ago, I took Jacob outside in the driveway to ride around on his Lightning McQueen power wheels car before bed. Andrew loved watching Jake. Every time he drove by, Andrew yelled and kicked. It was hysterical! Then the neighbor across the street spied the car, and his mother brought him over. His name is also Jacob. We chatted for a while, as the boys played with the car, then her twin girls came over as well. A few moments after that, the neighbor one door down came over with her two children. Jake did a great job sharing the car with all of the kids. They played for about an hour, and Andrew laughed watching all of the kids run around - it was a bit chaotic! I grabbed the camera for a shot of the kids together on the car. Everyone was perfectly posed and ready for the shot when Lydia accidentally stepped on the gas, and threw the gang off the car! Little Jacob ran away, and was only reluctantly coaxed back for another try...his ears are plugged - I'm not sure why he thought that would protect him. And while the other kids are able to smile, my Jacob is wincing in all of the pictures. Lydia, the driver, posed prettily the entire time, like a little innocent princess!

In Jake's Mind

Today I asked Jacob several times to please clean up the toys in the living room. I said it nicely at least 5 times over the course of an hour. Finally, he picked up some of the toys and told me that he'd just leave the rest for tomorrow. I said fine, but I was going to throw away anything that wasn't cleaned up. When I proceeded to pick up toys for the trash, he began screaming, "You're throwing away thousands of your own dollars! You bought those toys! You're wasting money!" When that argument didn't work, he tried desperately to dissuade me with, " That's the one that completes my Incredible Hulk collection!" The argument continued, however. I didn't back down, even when he told me he was going to tell my mother...and she's a force to be reckoned with!

Then later, when I was getting him ready for his bath, he told me that I really should speak louder when I'm talking to him. He didn't hear me when I asked him 15 times to clean up his toys. I said. "Fine then. Next time, I'll save us both some time and just begin screaming right from the start." That stopped his argument.

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When we got to the beach area yesterday, Jacob said to Andrew, "Brother, keep your eyes open, because the beach is the best place to catch Sandman."

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About a week ago, Jacob was in the living room with Andrew while I was in the kitchen. I didn't hear Andrew making any sounds, but Jake came running into the kitchen, excitedly telling me that he heard Andrew say his first word. "He said GOOOOOOOO!"

At dinner tonight I told my in-laws this story, and my father-in-law then asked Jake what Andrew's first word was. He said, "I think it was crab cake." Hey, my kids are smart! Not many 3 month olds can say 'crab cake!'

More Thoughts from Jacob

On the way home from a picnic today, Jacob was singing to the baby. He sang the Alvin and the Chipmunk's Christmas song we all know so well. Here are his lyrics, go ahead and sing the song in your heads: "Christmas, Christmas time is here. Time for toys and time for cheer. We've been good but we've been high. Please Christmas don't be late!" Ok, Jake. It's not quite the time to tell you this yet, but if those Chipmunks have been high then, although they may have been feeling good, they haven't been good...BUT...it would explain the unusual voices and Theodore's appetite. Or is it that WE'VE been high, hallucinating about singing Chipmunks...

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"When I'm 20 I won't have to wear a pull up to bed anymore. I'll just wear underwear." I hope it doesn't take that long!

Already a Maid

Last night while I was getting Jacob ready for bed he told me that he wanted to win some contest so that he could have a butler. I asked him if he knew what a butler was and he said no. I said, "It's someone who waits on you."
"Waits on you?" he said.
"Yeah, you know. Someone who gets your drinks and snacks, answers the door and phone for you, takes you places you want to go."
"Oh," he said "That sounds like you."
Yes, in fact it does sound like me...

Then he was saying the "eenie meenie miney mo, catch a tiger by the toe" rhyme. I asked him what he would do if he ever actually caught a tiger. He told me he would put it in a cage. Then he told me that he had a full size cage in his spider-cave, perfect for adults. BUT, I didn't need to worry, because he would never put me in a cage. Gee, thanks Jake. I may only have butler status, but at least I don't have to worry about being caged!

Have Sponge, Will Travel

I'm thinking about cleaning a few houses here and there. I am a self-confessed compulsive cleaner myself, I have too much time on my hands, and little money of my own, so wouldn't it make sense to put that cleaning compulsion to work for some spending money. If it worked, I would probably do it for the next two years or so, until Andrew goes to preschool and I need to get a "real" job. In the meantime, I think I could do three or four houses. It would give me a small income to play with and be something to get me out of the house. I know women around here charge at least $50 per house, depending on size. My thoughts are $50 for 2000 square feet and under, $75 for over 2000 square feet. I'd like to start with people I know, or with friends of people I know. At this point I would take Andrew with me. He's here when I'm cleaning, so what's the difference if I have him strapped to me or in a portable playpen here or at someone else's house? It's something I've been tossing around for a while, so I'm putting it out for everyone's input.

Part of me feels like I am wasting my education cleaning someone else's toilet, and that cleaning, when it's not your own home, is somewhat demeaning. The other part of me feels like, hey, $50 a house isn't bad pay, I'm not working anywhere else, and if I were working I'd have someone here to help me and not think any demeaning thoughts of her (or him, I guess).

So what do you all think? First of all, does anyone want, or know of anyone who wants, a cleaning lady who wouldn't mind me bringing the baby along? (Obviously that question is posed to local friends - I'm not driving to Pittsburgh to clean!) Secondly, do you think I'm setting myself up for feeling belittled or is it really no big deal? Let me know - here or email me.

Andrew Laughing

Ramblings on the Frailty of Life

Recently I have been thinking much about the frailty of life. It’s not necessarily the just aged people in my life I have been thinking about., but rather everyone who is meaningful to me. I find myself feeling increasingly grateful for those I have been fortunate enough to know and finding the unique blessings that each person brings into my life more and more readily apparent. These are not necessarily revelations; I’ve been aware of these small miracles for a long time. For me, the ease by which I forget or take for granted my prosperity waxes and wanes depending on the stage and state of my life. During those times when stress is high and time is short, gratitude can unfortunately fly out the door. This is probably common among many people, but instead of excusing such behavior, we should see the sadness in it, because it is really during the times of stress and anxiety that it would behoove us most to regroup and be grateful rather than dwelling on the negative.

These days I find my emotions in a constant state of flux. There are times when I feel overwhelmed with motherhood and the changes that have pummeled me over the last few months. Likewise, there are times when I feel relaxed and at ease with where I am. I can feel irritated and over-stimulated by my children and then overcome with a sense of awe in their mere presence. Regardless of which side of the pendulum I am on, the trick for me now is to keep my focus on my life‘s priorities - my children, my husband, my extended family and friends and my faith, especially during moments of frustration.

I just finished the book, “The Last Lecture,” by Randy Pausch, the professor at Carnegie Mellon who just died of pancreatic cancer at 47. It’s a good book and I recommend it to everyone. It’s easy and fast to read, and the message is simple and uplifting. I found myself throughout the book wondering how I would react if I knew that I had only months to live. He very gracefully took his diagnosis as an opportunity to be right with the world, to let those around him know how much they really meant to him, to spend quality time with his children and to say his heartfelt goodbyes. He tells us, however, that we should not limit this kind of living to when we are dying. At the end he says, “If you lead your life the right way, the karma will take care of itself.” We need to lead our whole lives the right way, not just the ends.

I’m not sure that I would want to know when I was going to die. I think it would be very easy to get caught up in the more depressing aspects of the prognosis. But in some aspects, I also think that he and his family were very lucky. Not many people are given the chance to say goodbye and have a peaceful closure to losing a loved one. When a person dies unexpectedly, it leaves those around him (or her) feeling not only the loss of the person, but also the loss of the chance to say goodbye. Obviously I don’t envy Randy Pausch, or mean to imply that he is lucky to have had a terminal illness and die so young. His children will grow up without a father, and his wife has lost her spouse and her best friend. Although his message to us is uplifting, his circumstances are ultimately very tragic and sad. What makes it remarkable is that Randy was able to look at his situation and see the gift in it. How would we treat others if we knew that we were going to die in 3 months? I imagine that for most of us, we would act very differently than we currently do. We’d love each other more, spend more time together, call up long lost friends, make sure that everyone knew - in very specific words - just what they meant to us. We would invest our time making memories that our loved ones could hold onto in our absence. That is how I would spend my time in the face of a terminal illness.

Think hard on that for a moment, though. What’s wrong with that aforementioned picture?
What’s wrong is that we should do those things anyway. There is no guarantee that any of us have tomorrow. There’s no guarantee that any of us have 5 hours from now, so why do allow ourselves to get so caught up in the daily grind and limit our emotional lives? At the end of our lives, what do we really want to be remembered for? What legacy to we want to leave our children? It’s an old lesson, I admit; nothing that any of us hasn’t heard before, but nonetheless it is so true. God gives us many opportunities every day to chose how we are going to react, effect and change our circumstances. Instead of getting angry, upset, depressed, frustrated, etc. if we chose to change our reactions to ones emitting peace and compassion, how would it change our world for the better? And shouldn’t we think about this all the time, not just when something tragic happens to trigger our emotions.

My thoughts, in agreement with Randy Pausch, are this: If we lead our lives the right way, we sleep better. We eat better, we love better, we live better. We feel better about ourselves and we can go to bed at night knowing that our families and friends know exactly how much we love them. That’s the way I want to go to sleep - knowing that I acted in accordance to my own morals. That I acted with integrity. That I treated others not only with respect, but also with compassion and empathy, and that there is no question in anyone’s mind just how much I really do care.

It takes practice and patience and perseverance, and it takes getting over the fears of rejection or humiliation or whatever else holds us back from adequately communicating. I’m practicing daily and I’m making progress, with God’s help. In the meantime, for those of you who don't already know, I love each and every one of you for the unique and wonderfully varied perspectives you have brought into my life. I believe that we enter each others paths for a reason, and that we can and should learn from every person we encounter. Even the smallest lesson is an advantage. I hope that I am open and learning - and that I am in some small way teaching as well!

The Sweet Sound of Laughter

Today has been another typical day for me. Jacob left last night to go to a water park in Erie with my mom, sister and aunt. Greg left at 430 this morning to go pre-fishing for a tournament he is in tomorrow, so I woke up alone with Andrew. Lindsay came at 930 so I could run, I had a decent run - 4.25 miles - not bad, but not great either. Lindsay stays until I shower, which is usually around 11 or so, then she heads home. After I fed Andrew lunch we went for a 1.5 hour walk around town and to the grocery store for a few small items. When we came home, he needed to eat again and then we were just hanging out as usual. I laid him on a blanket on the carpet and played some games with him, as much as you can play with a 3 month old. Then out of my own boredom, not his, I decided to pull his basket of toys over and try out each and every one of them! I showed him the yellow duck - got a smile. Showed him the pink elephant, thought "aren't pink elephants indicative of drunkenness" - got a smile from him and myself. Showed him the blue bear rattle and got a smile too. Nothing big. Got out the multicolored fish rattle, a hand me down from my niece, and shook it in front of him. He laughed! I mean a real full-bellied laugh! What!?! I shook it again and he laughed again. It was the first true laugh for him and it was amazing! My cell phone was close, so I quickly filmed him laughing so I could share it with others, especially Greg. He wasn't laughing as much once I got out the phone, because he was noticing the phone as well, but you can still hear it. (I'll post it later) It almost brought tears to my eyes, it was so cool. Amazing how much those little things can make your day.

I also sent Greg a text and said that perhaps the fact that it took a fish toy to get the first laugh out of Andrew is a good sign for his tournament tomorrow! We shall see!

Repetitious Indoor Gymnastics and My Proceeding Reactions

Here's the scene:
My living room, one day last week. Keep in mind, however, that this is a common conversation, with just a bit of the dialogue changing.

Jacob, jumping wildly on the couch, completely unaware that he is doing something I have asked him countless times not to do: "Mom! Mom! Look at me! Watch what I can do!"

Me, in an exasperated tone: "Jake, when are you going to realize that I don't want you jumping on the furniture?"

Jacob, bewildered: "I thought you changed your mind. It's been a few days since I jumped on the couch."

Me, feeling defeated: "No. I haven't changed my mind. Please don't jump on the furniture."

Jake: "OK"

This scene will repeat every few days.
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Yesterday, again in my living room. Jacob is jumping inside Andrew's Bumbo seat, again not for the first time.

Me: "Jacob, get out of that seat. It's for a baby. You are going to break it."

Jacob: "I'm not sitting in it, I'm standing."

Me: "I don't want you inside or on that seat in any way." (He is SO good with semantics. Once I told him that I didn't want him watching Spiderman 3 because it was too violent. I then found him at my aunt's house watching Spiderman 1. When I asked what he was doing, he said, "You said not to watch Spiderman 3. This is the first Spiderman.")

Back to the present. Me again: "I'm not going to tell you again. The next time I see you in that seat, you are going to pay me a quarter." Money is usually a good motivator for him.

Jacob, smugly: "Oh, a quarter. That's not very much money."

Me, agitated : "Fine then, if I catch you in that seat again, you will pay me one dollar."

Jacob, shocked: "But I only have one dollar in my wallet."

Me, matter-of-factly: "Then don't get inside that seat again."
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These are our daily arguments. Don't jump on the furniture. Don't get in the baby's seat, swing, stroller, etc. Don't eat yogurt in the living room. Put your toys away when you are done. Please get out of the car in under 15 minutes and remember to shut the car door when you finally get out, because the rest of us have already gone into the house. The list goes on, but you get the point.

I have times when I lose my temper unnecessarily over these things, because I'm just so exasperated at the frequency of my failed attempts at curtailing such behavior. Recently, however, I've been trying to look more at the big picture and less at the everyday little stresses that can get so out of hand. My friends with teenagers and college age kids have told me to enjoy these days. These are the times when I know where my children are at all times. I have full control over who they associate with and what influences their lives. They are safe, and the behavioral issues that we encounter, although trying at times, are minute in the grand scheme of life.

Admittedly, I am human and I don't always pick the right battles to fight. I question which battles are indeed small, and which will escalate into bigger problems if not addressed in their infancy. Again, it all comes back to the simple concept of balance. If we, as parents, can find that balance between over and under reacting, and teach our kids to reign their behaviors and reactions appropriately, it should all work out favorably in the long run...right???

Maybe part of the problem is that parents now over-think everything. Perhaps if we just followed our guts and didn't worry so much about every interaction, things would work out just fine anyway. I'm sure if my grandmother were still alive, she would think that some of the tactics I use are ridiculous. I can imagine her telling me "Don't reason with the kid, just tell him how it is going to be and move on." Her kids turned out OK without time-outs and positive reinforcement, redirection and all the rest of the child rearing lingo. Could it be possible that mine would too?

I think that most of the changes in discipline are for the better. We now see our children not as simple insubordinates, but for the budding persons that they are - complete with emotions and motivations as true as our own. I also believe that most people are good at heart and have good intentions. No one can convey those intentions in an articulate and unflawed manor all the time, but most of us do a pretty good job at it most of the time. When we know that our spouses, our kids, and our friends have intentions and true personalities that are pure and sincere, we don't need to be so analytical about our interactions or so rigid with rules.

I don't want my children to grow up to complicate things like I do. I want them to be able to live in the moment, but plan for the future, with confidence and security, without constantly worrying whether or not they are doing the right thing. I want them to see the big picture but not sweat the small stuff. I'm hoping that time and practice will allow me to do the same, and that by setting a good example, they will effortlessly (Ha! Somewhat anyway! I'm not completely delusional) learn those skills as well. Most importantly, I'm hoping that in the meantime, I will be able be aware of my blessings more often and of the ease and goodness of this stage in our life as a family, and look forward to being able to do the same in the future, regardless of what that stage may be.

Right now, however, I need to invest in some good quality couch covers! :)


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On a not so serious note - last night, Jake was watching TV and a commercial for some contest came on. He said, "I hope I win a Subway card." There is really nothing at Subway that he would eat, so I said, "What would you do with a Subway card?" "Well, I'd buy a ham sandwich." Then he paused, "and I'd buy a sandwich for you and Greg too." Ask a simple question, get a simple answer!