And so it begins.....

My little baby is turning 2 in just three days.  Last week, when left in the care of her father for an hour, she learned how to climb out of her crib.  Now I'm not blaming my husband but she didn't do it on my watch!


The tide started turning about a week before.  She (in truly spectacular Lauren style) climbed into her crib several times.... to retrieve her pacifiers.  My original plan was to keep her in the crib until Kindergarten.  It looks like that isn't going to happen.


She is growing up.  She even demands to use the toilet.  Not a lot of talking from my little, just a lot of demands.  And so it begins.

It's just like a double-dog dare

Only I didn't actually say "I dare you", let alone with two dogs.  Your response was JUST like I double-dog dared you though.  That's because you are mine and nothing motivates you like someone telling you that you can't accomplish something. 

I didn't tell you that you couldn't read the whole book last night because I wanted to see you read the whole book.  I was just being Reality Check Mom who wants her boy to sleep. 

When you marched out of your room at 10:30 holding the 200 page book over your head in triumph, I could only laugh.  "See?  See?  You said I couldn't but I did it!" So there.  The book is done. 

.....and 9 hours later you are begging me for permission to haul a huge Harry Potter book to school. 

Helicopter Parent

When I was getting ready to go to college, my mom and I attended a new student orientation thing at UC Davis.  I think we stayed overnight in separate dorms.  I was 18, she was 46.  I played it cool, she was like a giddy school girl.  I don't remember a lot of the details about the trip.  I do remember that my mother could not stop talking about it.  She had my academic trajectory planned, she raved about the dorm food, and she made lots of friends. 

I'm not telling you this story because I was raised by a helicopter mother.  In fact, my parents gave us plenty of rope and responsibility.  We were raised to be independent but there was always support and cheers when we needed it.  I owe my life's successes to my parents.  I tell you this story because it makes me laugh that anyone acts like this with their kids ALL THE TIME!  And then I stop laughing and worry that this whole over-parenting thing is a wickedly deceptive pass-time.  Over-parent?  ME?  You mean over-love, there's never too much love!

Kevin and I laugh about the freedom we had as kids.   We both rode bikes all around our neighborhoods, Kevin even rode around town!  We don't let our kids play out front without us.  And there were child abductions and stranger danger in the 80's so that's not it.  Our perspective is just different.

But it goes beyond safety.  We want our kids to be successful.  Right?  So we seek out ways to make their little futures successful.  And along comes our worry and fear.  I worry that Keith doesn't know how to hold a pencil or draw a person.  I worry that Lauren is going to punch someone.  I worry that Patrick will bomb a math test.  I worry when they tell me they don't have friends.  I worry when they tell me who their friends are.  I worry that they will fail and let's just say it.... I FAIL.  Mama does not want to fail.

I take it personally.  I really do.  I don't want to fail so why not help, encourage, and maybe just do it for them.  STOP!  I am telling you right now.  You have to stop.  Stop and I will tell you another UC Davis story.

I thought I wanted to be a psychologist until I flunked (Royally Flunked, F- hide your paper in your backpack flunked) my first Intro. to Psych test.  I was pissed.  I didn't go to the professor and complain about her teaching style or the tricky questions.  I certainly didn't ask my parents to call the Department Head and get him to let me take the test again.  I sat my happy butt in my desk chair and studied like I had never studied before.  I didn't get an A in the class, I got a B+ and slid on over to my safety major: Political Science.  failure is part of life, your response to failure is the definition of your life.

The skills that we can learn from struggling with what ever life throws at us equips us for success.  The lessons that we learn from making mistakes help us figure out what to do with our opportunities.  The personal accountability that we take is the first step to maturing and soaring. 

Helicopter parents are known because they are at school all of the time.  Like a true helicopter parent, I'm at school a lot and the other day I had to shut down my engines.  I want you to understand what a fight it is to be a better parent.  Patrick was invited to be a part of the Human Relations committee at school.  We talked with him about it a lot, specifically praising the fact that he is a leader.  We even  had him write the date of the meeting down in his planner.  The day of the meeting came and I forgot to remind him (I know.....).  He missed the meeting.  FAIL!  Here was my temptation, call and/or email the principal and explain the situation and blah blah blah.  Here's what we did: we told him to march his happy butt up to the principal and do the explaining on his own.  AND if he couldn't find her, he needed to march his happy butt into her office.  You have to understand that for my child, this is HUGE!  And guess what?  He remembered and he did it!  I was near tears.  You have to teach your kids to accept accountability and admit mistakes AND give them the confidence to speak on their own behalf.  This is my biggest challenge with Patrick, I talk for him all the time (working on it though).  So it gets better.  The next meeting, I happened to be on campus and I fought my helicopter hard.  I wanted to walk over and just take a look to make sure that he made it to the meeting.  I was walking off campus with my friend and actually turned around and walked back in the direction of the cafeteria before I stopped myself (I'm sure I looked like a crazy person with helicopter mommy and free range mommy pulling me in two different directions).  He did make it to the meeting.  I just had to wait until afterschool to find out.

This week was a tough week for my boys.  Without going into too much detail I truly hurt for them this week, socially and academically.  I have had a pit in my stomach because they failed, made mistakes, and stumbled.  And quite frankly, people have failed them.  While you are in the midst of it, reflection is difficult.  I just want it to be better.   I want them on the happy side of the fine line.  But they can't be protected from everything nor should they.  So, I am not in front of them clearing the path.  I am not hovering over them checking every last detail.  I am not carrying them so they never trip.  I am walking beside them, holding their hands when they need it, encouraging them to run ahead outside of my reach, letting them do for themselves, and praying a million prayers over their heads. 

Let's talk about the weather

I hate talking about the weather.  But really, what is up with the triple digits in October?  Everyone around me is either pinning pumpkin spice everything or talking about how dang hot it is here.  Tomorrow is another day and fall may actually make it to our neck of the woods.  While I wait for fall, I've been obsessing over figs and gum balls. 

So I bought some figs (first time!  I've never bought a fig before in my entire life!).

And made some jam.  Balsamic Fig Jam by Celeste.  Super easy and true story.... we already ate an entire jar!  It is great on toast, sandwiches, and this weekend I'm making my man a fig and brie pizza.  Lauren just eats it by the spoonful (she consumes all of her condiments like that).  The boys refuse to even try it.  more for me.

The Littles and I worked on gum ball necklaces.  We will count this as our first draft since Lauren tried to eat her necklace before I could spray it.  She took a couple of good chunks out of it.  Good thing this was cheap and easy.  total cost $1.

This is how I roll with the craftiness.  Right in the middle of everything else.  Making a mess on top of a mess.

Lauren's finished product! 

Keith working on his necklace.  Learning patterns... Poking his fingers.... Begging to eat a gumball.

@ the ghost ranch

There are friends, there are good friends, and then there are forever friends.    You know those people that God puts in your life forever and ever. You can't remember a time when you didn't know them.  Your kids think they are cousins. 

The Currys are our forever friends.  Matt and I grew up next door to each other.  Our mothers spent hours gossiping and chatting in each other kitchens.  We spent hours riding bikes and playing Ditch 'Em. We all grew up together beating a path between our two houses.  Then Matt happened to marry a fabulous girl (Cyndy) who I love like a sister.  And then the kids came.  The Currys and the Callahans have matched sets. Three for each of us (boy, boy, girl), same ages and everything.  I love these Curry kids.

A couple of weeks ago, Matt's parents weren't home so we pretended like it was 1993 and threw a party at their house!

 Patrick and Chase- These two are so much alike it is scary.  They are both incredibly eloquent and silly.

 Oh and the middle boys.  Keith and Ryder.  Oh the middle boys (i said that already didn't i?).

The middle two never slow down long enough for a picture.

And then there's our girls....

These girls rock ALL of our worlds.  It would not be the same without them.  Emmy and LoLo!

What a fun time we had at the Ranch.  My kids are still talking about it (mostly about all of the bad words Matt taught them).  Next time we will make sure there is adult supervision....

Bring in 'da funk

I've been in a mood lately.  The last few days have just left me feeling blah.  I could pretend that my life is all cookie dough and champagne but it ain't.  I have my moments... many many moments.   

Today I was trying to shake off the cobwebs and the headache and the blahs.  So I decided to clean.  Such a dumb idea.  Cleaning a house that is full of children and activity is like opening Pandora's super grubby box. 

I bent down in front of Keith's bedroom to pick up (another) Lego and was confronted with a whole new world of grime.  Don't these kids ever wash their hands?  My house needs 3 coats of black paint.  They put their feet on the walls!  They run their hands along the walls!  Lauren decorates (stickers, pens, crayons, markers) everything I own!  And they pee on the floor and steal things off my desk.  And the junk ALL OVER THE HOUSE (don't get me started on Patrick's room!).  GAH!

I know right?  What do I have to complain about?  Nothing. So I choose happiness and contentment.  I choose joy and satisfaction.  I choose Excedrin Tension Headache.  And I get over myself. 

Feeling funky isn't bad.  Feel it, that's ok. Taking up permanent residence in the funk is dangerous.  Brush your teeth and say a prayer.  You are the light of someone's life.  Smile and be the light.

Homework Confessions

Welcome to the fourth week of school.  For my third grader (who was brought to tears on a regular basis by second grade homework), it is a breeze.  Time consuming (30 minutes plus math facts plus reading), but he hearts his binder and works independently 98% of the time. 

For my Kindergartener, the 10 (pshaw) minutes of homework is like nothing that can be described in the English language.  I've worked in his class so I know he isn't at the bottom but somewhere in the middle lurks my boy.  He knows all of his phonics, recognizes letters and numbers, and can add simple numbers.  His motors skills are ATROCIOUS (he can't hold a pencil, he can't cut with scissors, he can't write his name....the kindergarten way).   I know that he's a boy and these skills will come and all that but it is still crazy intense.  And I know that I am a crazy intense mom.  His 10 minutes (again PSHAW!) of homework this week: Writing the numbers 1-2-3 five times, Writing the sight words (is-I-See) five times, Naming the five senses, Reviewing the three letters he wasn't able to identify or create the correct sound for, Writing his name the kindergarten way (because he writes in ALL CAPS).  Last week it was about the same.  AND. IT. WAS. PAINFUL. 

Here's the thing, I push my kids pretty hard and turn 10 minutes of homework into 40 minutes of homework BUT by the end of last week Keith was writing his name correctly.  HUGE.  I was just about ready to give up and back off and find another hobby.  And then he conquered it.   He really is a rockstar (with a healthy pre-paid therapy account, thanks to me).  He even got the Character Counts award for responsibility and a lollipop to go along with it because candy also counts.

And then there is LoLos.  Most days she is content to park herself at (or on) the table with her brother and scribble in her notebook.  Some days, she is in need of the newly minted time-out (lauren style).

In my world there isn't anything that is harder than watching my children struggle.  I want it to be easy!  It isn't.  It is easy for Patrick right now but I know that I will have my own (count to ten and breathe) moments with him.  I hate that I can't just feed them the knowledge, skills, and everything they need like I feed them dinner.  But the struggle makes their success so much sweeter.  Keith's development in four short weeks has been AMAZING.  Patrick's level of focus and responsibility has improved so much.  I am lucky to have these kids and I hope that I am doing enough things right to make up for my mistakes.