My Sweet Boy

This is my sweet boy, Sam. He is in Kindergarten this year, having turned 5 right before the school year started. I worried that he was too young to start school, that maybe he wouldn't have the maturity and attention span needed to be successful in school, having only made the age cutoff by 10 days.

From early meetings with his teacher, we learned that while he wasn't at the top of the class, he was right where he should be and showing great improvement on the various kindergarten skills. Josh and I had already noticed how much better his writing had gotten, how much neater he colored, and how he was learning the letter sounds and recognizing them. We were so proud.

Then, about a week ago, Sam brings us a note after he gets home from school. It is from Miss H., his teacher, and explains that there was an "incident" on the playground involving a boy from the other kindergarten class and the tether ball rope being wrapped around his neck. Apparently it really scared the boy, who told his mom about it, who then came and talked to Miss H. Needless to say, I was shocked and saddened to learn of this bad behavior from my son. We sat him down and calmly talked to him, asking what had happened. He told us that yes, it had happened but that he wasn't the only one. There were two other boys involved too and that he wasn't the one who actually had the rope. So we talked about making the right choices, how the other boy must have felt, expressed our disapproval at his behavior and told him that sometimes just standing there when someone is being hurt is almost as bad as hurting them yourself. We encouraged him to be a good example and to be courageous enough to speak up in situations like that. He'd been punished at school already so we really didn't dole out more than a stern talking to.

I found myself really bothered by the whole incident, to be honest. I just couldn't believe that my sweet-hearted boy was involved in something like that. It really saddened me and made me question my success as a mother. Had I not tried to teach him to be kind to others, to be respectful of them, and to flat out not HURT people? Had I not taught him about consequences and instilled enough fear in him that he didn't hesitate to participate in such an activity? Did I not nurture his conscious and teach him right from wrong? This whole incident really kind of knocked me for a loop and I almost felt like I was mourning for a while. My baby was out in the free world (to an extent) and making his own choices, and they weren't the right ones! Where had I gone wrong?

Then, a day later report cards came out. I was still kind of bothered by the playground incident and so I trepidatiously opened his report card. My heart sank a little further. Yes, Sam was doing fine academically, showing great improvement and working hard to meet all the educational requirements. However, his teacher expressed some concern about Sam's ability to focus on his work, saying that he needed quite a bit of redirection and prompting. That he'd rather use his time to play than to do his work, and that his play choices weren't always good ones. The school has a Zero Weapon policy, meaning they don't allow the kids to even play weapons, like with sticks, and if you know my Sam, you know he's fascinated by anything weapon related. So naturally, he and the other boys in his class like to play Star Wars or whatever, pointing their fingers, blocks, etc. at each other and making all kind of sound effects. (To my credit, I tried for the first 3 years of his life to keep actual toy guns and such from entering the house. When he started using his shoe as a gun, I figured it was pointless. He'd find a way.)

Every parent wants their child to be the star student and a model of good behavior so to put it mildly, I was rather dismayed. I immediately came home after picking him up from school and confiscated all his toy guns and hid them in the garage. I instructed Josh when he got home that Sam was no longer allowed to play a particular computer game (one I never really approved of anyway) that is a war-type game. We talked about what his report card said, and in retrospect, I may have overreacted a bit, but it had been a week of disappointment for me and I was going to nip this thing in the bud!

Later we again sat Sam down and talked to him about how school was going and the comments, both good and bad, that his teacher had made. We talked about our expections and told him that he needed to focus more on his work. Poor little guy threw his hands up in despair and exclaimed "But I don't know what focus IS!". So that was the next part of discussion. Josh and I also admitted we probably needed to spend a little less time on the computers in the evening and a little more interacting with the kids, especially Sam. I did a search on the internet for some free kindergarten-level worksheets and printed out a bunch, deciding that would be a good activity for the evening. Sam gets a little extra tutoring and some one-on-one interaction with us.

I had wanted to talk face-to-face with Miss H. and get the whole story and also to let her know I wasn't just shrugging it off. I finally got the chance to talk to her yesterday and I'm so glad that I did. I feel SO much better now. If anything, she kind of down-played the playground incident. She confirmed that yes, there were other kids involved and that they also got notes sent home. She also said that Sam was the only one of the boys that took responsibility and 'fessed up. The others were trying to pass the buck. That made me feel a bit better. She said that Sam makes good choices when he's on his own, but sometimes in a group tends to just go along with things. Ahh, that "pack mentality". Oh, and Sam has already finished the reading course work that is expected at the end of the year, and is now moving on to the next level. Anyway, I feel much better about Sam, his performance at school and my own parenting skills after talking to Miss H. She said several times that she had no worries about him or us as a family. It was so incredibly reassuring to hear that.

I guess the lesson learned is one every parent must face: our children become independent of us, make their own choices and sometimes disappoint us. Gosh, it gives me a whole new respect for the hell I put my parents through and what their emotions must have been. But that's a whole other story...

Getting a wee bit comfortable

Remember this guy from the other day?


Well, he and his buddy came back yesterday. And closer this time. He was right at the edge of our driveway so I thought "What a great opportunity for some closer pictures!" I told Sam to stay in the house and I was going out to shoot the guy. With my camera, of course.

He really wasn't that bothered by my sudden appearance out the front door and lazily turned his head to look at me. Just goes to prove that I'm really not that interesting, even to wild animals.

But THEN, he must have just wound up his courage and decided to be friendly because he headed over for a closer look. Mind you, I don't have much of a zoom on my camera - he really was this close.

And getting closer...

I finally said "Hey Pal! That's close enough!" Even when I did my impersonation of a judo kick in his direction, he wasn't phased or impressed. I think he actually would have laughed out loud had he not been trying to be friendly.

Finally he stopped and we just looked at each other. Actually, he looked at me and I took his picture lots of times. Maybe he's actually a celebrity in the deer world and he mistook me for some papparazzi and was just being obliging. Whatever the case, he cooperated nicely.

When he figured out I wasn't going to ask for his autograph or give him a snack, he tired of me and sauntered off. Oh well. I was grateful for the pictures. And the fact that he didn't gore me to death.

Visitors

We had some visitors the other day, so I grabbed my camera and ran out to snap a few pictures. I thought maybe they'd start sparring a bit but it's the wrong time of year for that. They've gotten all their aggressions out already, caught their ladies and were probably heading off to watch some bowling or something.

Nice looking fellars. Tasty too.

Oh look! A princess flew in to visit too!

The Winter Blues

The last couple days have been a bit unpleasant in our household due to various bugs and illnesses.

I've been fighting with some unknown thing that is causing me to wake up with excruciating headaches every single morning for the about the last 10 days. It's not a migraine headache - I know what those feel like - and at first I thought it was my sinuses but the pain isn't in my face. (Keep the jokes to yourself, please.) It starts at the base of my skull and radiates over the top of my head, and every little movement sends a new wave of dizzying pain crashing over me. So I went to the chiropractor yesterday, thinking it was my neck out of whack. And she did say that my neck was a bit "congested" and got some good cracks in, but I still woke up with the same sick headache this morning. So once again, I spent the first hour of my wakefulness with an ice pack around my neck. That seems to help. It's just wierd because Sudafed helps some too, plus I'm sneezing and having some post-nasal drip (sorry, gross I know) so I think there's several things contributing. Allergies, neck mal-alignment...whatever it is, I want it to STOP. This totally sucks. Not that I've ever been a hop-out-of-bed-greet-the-day-with-a-song kind of person, but this is taking my morning misery to a whole other level. And NOBODY is enjoying it, let me tell ya.

To top that off, my poor Sam has had some kind of stomach bug and has thrown up several times over the last couple days and nights. Yesterday he was pretty droopy and tired, having woken up sick during the night, so I kept him home from school and we all kind of just lazed around. He fell asleep at 5:00pm and slept until 3:00am, when he started dry heaving. The poor little fellar didn't have anything left in his stomach to get up. There's just nothing sadder than watching your kids in misery, knowing there's nothing you can do. I just hate it. So I was up with him for a while, getting him ice chips, sips of water and cold rags. He's such a brave little sick person too. He always reassures me (and probably himself) that "I'm okay, Mom", usually post heave as he's still hunkered over the toilet. He's feeling a bit better today, no vomiting at least, and actually ate a pancake for breakfast although he's turned down cookies and potato chips. Boy, he MUST be sick. Anyway, hopefully he's on the mend and the rest of us won't get that particular bug.

I'm heading to work today, not feeling great. Residual headache pain along with a stomach that's been a bit "rumbly" in the southern hemisphere for a few days have me longing for my bed and an afternoon nap. But, alas, it's not to be. I just hope that things stay under control and I can work my shift. We'll see how tomorrow pans out. Hopefully both Sam and I will have made great strides in returning to our old selves and Josh and Zoe will remain unscathed.

Can I just say that I hate winter. I LOATHE winter. The days are annoyingly short and dark, the weather is cold and wet, and it seems to be the time of year when all the bugs attack us. I hate winter. Is it spring yet??

I'm taking a sabbatical

...from fast food, that is. Ha! You thought I'd actually get away from all the insanity and noise in my house? Silly you. I'm not due for another get-away until...hmm, let's see...2013?

But I digress.

I've decided that February is going to be Fast Food Free Month in Kate's life. Not because I've been abusing any particular drive-thru or anything. I just decided that why not just NOT go there. I mean, realistically I only eat fast food a couple times a month. Maybe once a week if the kids and I are out running errands and I start to get the Low Blood Sugar Blues or need to somehow work in a meal in my already jam-packed daily schedule. And if truth be told, I have a severe french fry addiction. I swear they put something in them that makes ya crave them fortnightly. (Name that movie.) Oh, I remember what it is! It's the grease and salt and the potatoes. Yummy.

So in light of my recent renewed interest in my health (and waistline) I've decided to take a sabbatical from fast food. Because really, those cheeseburger, french fries, and meat pulp tacos from Jack in the Box really are making my time and sweat spent at the gym for naught. And Lord knows, I don't go to the gym for naught!

This pledge was further strengthened when Sam was coloring some french fries on a worksheet the other night and he very aptly colored the french fry box red and drew a big yellow M on it. Yup. Time for a break from french fries for ALL of us.

And in all seriousness, I am rapidly approaching the ripe old age of 40. Not only would I like to look like a smokin' hot momma at 40, but I'd like to remain an ALIVE momma for many years beyond 40. With my family history of heart disease and all the other scary things that are increasingly possible with age, I decided that it's time to quit totally treating my body like a junk yard, throwing whatever I felt like in it. Time to get things tuned up, straightened out and running smoother. I think it's the least I can do for my kids. And myself.

Tea for Two

There was a bit of a social event hosted at my home this evening, but alas, I wasn't invited. I was only allowed on the fringes as a spectator and photo-journalist.

Little girls are so stinkin' cute.

I have no more babies

Well, it's official. I no longer have any babies.

Friday night we moved Sam's twin bed into Zoe's room for her to use. I washed her pink kitty sheets and put them on, and moved her plethora of stuffed animals and blankets over to her Big Girl Bed. Gone is the crib. Gone is my baby girl. Suddenly, there is a tiny little toddler who inhabits the middle bedroom, which is often cluttered with baby dolls, plastic dishes and food, and dress-up princess outfits. She looks so tiny laying there in her Big Bed, but she has adjusted like a champ. The first night she did wander into our bedroom at some ungodly hour, but last night she stayed in her bed all night and we didn't hear a peep.

It has been an amazingly smooth transition out of the crib with Zoe. I remember going thru this with Sam and it was much more of a fight. We had to put the baby gate up to keep him in his room, then unscrew the lightbulbs in his lamp and overhead light because otherwise he'd turn them on and start playing. When we tired of fighting to keep him IN BED, we told him that he had to stay in his room and be quiet. Many a night he fell asleep on the floor in the doorway after discovering he couldn't get thru the gate or turn on any lights, but he eventually tired of that and would stay in his bed.

Sam also has a new bed, now that Sissy inhabits his twin. A kind co-worker gave us a like-new full size bed, which we've settled into Sam's room. He thinks it's the coolest thing, especially since there's room for Mommy or Daddy to lay with him now. The bed will last him until he physcially outgrows it, which at the rate he's going, may be sometime in middle school. But at least we've got a few years before that happens.

So both my kiddos are growing up, and technically no longer babies (which they don't hesitate to point out to me). Part of me mourns that fact because they were such sweet babies, but I'm so enamored with the little people they're becoming too. There's a small part of me that is quietly glad to have the baby stage over with too. It's exhausting and so consuming, but I'm proud and privileged to have been part of every single day (and night) of that time in their lives. There were times I thought I'd never survive or make it thru one more sleepless night, but my mommy mantra has proven true:

"The days are long, but the years are short."