You'll be grateful... and you'll like it!

Anna’s 8th birthday was a few weeks ago and, boy howdy, did she make out like a bandit. She received several gift cards, games, books, clothes and a brand new bike, not to mention a fun outsourced birthday party at a local bounce house place. The bike, actually, was sort of a necessity—she’d reached the point of ridiculousness on her little girl bike with her knees practically bopping her in the chin.

That was at the beginning of the month, a few short days after a Halloween extravaganza of new costumes and insane amounts of candy. Then there were the exciting trips to the bookstore to use the gift cards resulting in MORE presents, followed immediately by was the book fair at school.

Oh, the book fair.

In general I try to get rid of those monthly Scholastic flyers as soon as they reach my doorstep, but their school promotes non-stop, building up excitement and expectation for weeks ahead of time. I understand it’s to raise money for the classroom but to be honest, their school is not lacking in funds. Calling the PTA zealous doesn’t quite cover it.

After some discussion, we agreed to go. I took all the kids to the weekend hours with these rules: They could each pick ONE book, any book, as long as it was less than $15 dollars (Scholastic books are notoriously expensive).

Silvia picked out a book of Christmas stories and Anna got a biography on Taylor Swift (oh, my!). We paid and trooped home happily, mission accomplished.

The following morning, though, all hell broke loose.

“MOM! You forgot my book fair money! Today’s my class visit day, I have to have the money in this envelope!”.  Anna impatiently waved the plastic baggy and class form for cash-carrying.

Confused, I reminded her we’d done the book fair YESTERDAY.

“But... but... it’s class day! I want to get a book! Everyone will be getting a book! IT’S CLASS DAY AND I WANT ANOTHER BOOK!”.  Then the crying and wailing started.

I ignored her. I had breakfasts to make and two other kids to get ready for the day. She just got louder.

Finally, unable to tune her out anymore, I loudly declared that there was no way on Earth she’d be getting anything at all and if she didn’t get it together immediately she’d be losing her book from the weekend as well. I sent her off to wash her face and took some deep breaths. Her theatrics continued, though, and we actually ended up missing the bus.

I was so upset, y’all. Seriously, not even so much mad as upset. Disappointed, not just in her, but in myself. Where have I gone wrong that my daughter so easily forgets everything she’s been given in her life?

And so was the Gratitude Project born. When Anna got home, I cancelled her playdate. Then, after homework, we made a list of everything she’d gotten in the last two weeks (mostly birthday presents) and I sent her over the house to fetch it all as a visual reminder. THEN she sat down and wrote out a thank you note for every single thing (something she was supposed to have done already, anyway. Oops.). THEN I sent her upstairs with this directive.

Write a letter telling us what you are grateful for in your life and what that means. I was clear that she was not to scribble out something generic in five seconds She had to really THINK about it and go deep.

After about half an hour, here is what she came up with.

 

I will admit that the end had me a little misty. Afterwards, Anna was in a very good mood, kind to her siblings and sweet to me. At bedtime, she gave me an extra special hug and whispered in my ear, “I’m sorry I had a big tantrum this morning, Mom. I love you”, which left me feeling very grateful and blessed, too.

(The next day, Silvia came off the bus with a list from the book fair people after HER class day. They’d made her write out a receipt for the things SHE wanted, titles and prices, to “Take home and give to your Mommy so she can get you JUST what you want and send the money with you tomorrow!”. Wouldn’t if be nice if the school reinforced the right messages we’re trying to teach them at home? Grrr. In Silvia’s defense, she only cried a little and then agreed we should put it on her Christmas or birthday wish list for a later date. Delaying gratification is hard at any age, so I was pretty proud of my little five-year-old.)

After all this, I am reminded to stop and think about all our own blessings. We are healthy and we have good insurance in case that changes. Even if this house does feel too small sometimes, we DO have it over our heads. Kurt, though it demands long hours, has a good job that supports us. When there is a family emergency, we are able to respond and be there to support our loved ones. I have no illusions about the the privileged life we enjoy. I don’t think we have to be ashamed of it, but I don’t want to forget, or let my kids forget, how lucky we are, either.

So the Gratitude Project continues, for parents and children alike, in theory and in practice. We will build on it more and more as they grow... which could mean a lot more letters to look forward to in the future. Hopefully not all of them will be coerced!

First Day of Kindergarten

Silvia started Kindergarten this morning. The girls woke up at 5:30 all in a huff to get going right away. After breakfast (I made french toast in honor of the occasion. Cheerios from now on!), they put on their backpacks and danced around for the 40 minutes before it was time to leave for the bus. I had planned to drive them to school this morning so I could walk with Silvia to her class but she decided she wanted to just ride the bus with Anna instead. Rejection! It's probably for the best, though, in order to avoid having me wander the halls in tears as my baby girl leaves me behind. I tell you, these first days never get easier.

In order to avoid confusion for him, I woke up Jack to send the girls off on the bus. When he gets up and they're not around, he really worries. This way at least he got to wave bye and hand out kisses like free candy. From the pictures you can see that his major concern was having a backpack of his own. I grabbed an old bag off the close shelf and voila... big boy!

Happy first day to my 2nd grader and kindergartener (wow, that's a long word). Now off to try and fill Jack's time without his favorite playmates to distract him. I won't be the only one who finds it hard to let go.  

 

 

Flashback, Easter 2012

(I'm still trying to get caught up with everything that's happened this year. After some intense photo-induced-memory-therapy, I've recovered a lot of little things to hold on to. Out of order, but it still counts)

For Easter this year we had the wonderful surprise of a visit from Grandma. Since this also happened to coincide with my birthday, it was an extra special treat. Kurt and I were able to go out for a few date nights without going broke paying a babysitter and the kids got plenty of uninterrupted family time. The kids sparkled in their new Easter outfits from Grandma and spent the morning finding eggs in the front yard and the afternoon gorging on jelly beans. Jack made a fashion statement by wearing his Easter basket on his head for the next week or so.

For my birthday, Kurt got me a new bike, something I haven't had in more years than I care to count. It's purple (guess who helped pick it out!). I'm still hesitant riding after being so long with my feet planted firmly on the ground, but I love the thrill and speed-- makes me feel like a kid again.

Jack also got in on the thrill ride, literally. Kurt got him a baby seat that attaches to his bike so he can sit up in front of Kurt out on the road. To say he loves it doesn't come CLOSE to capturing the real emotion. He also got his own little bike helmet, which caused a bit of a kerfuffle later on in the day when he wanted to wear it everywhere and then NOT wear it and then have it and couldn't get it on and wanted it off, etc, etc, etc. A nice long nap (and then hiding the helmet) solved the problem.

Mom was only here for a few days but it was honestly one of the nicest visits we've had. The kids were calm and excited to have her to themselves with no distractions. They read lots of books together and told her very Long and Important Stories about their lives. Mom had brought along a little craft to make their own calendars, an activity that happily lasted long after her visit.

"You should be very proud"... and we are, but we're so much more, too.

I had Anna's end of year teacher conference today. I was seven minutes late. While that might not seem like a lot in the grand scheme of things, the appointment was only for 15 minutes, making me way past tardy.

Out of breath and trailing a grumpy 1-year-old boy, I burst into the room. Anna's teacher is ever graceful and calm, which made me feel even more flustered and unkempt. " Sorry, I'm late... here, Jack, you want your juice? Please? Here, take my purse, go nuts, have at it... shhh... shhh...".

Patiently, the teacher waited another three minutes while I tried to settle my son. In all, that left us five minutes for the conference until the next parent arrived (probably on time and with their hair smoothly styled).

Turns out, five minutes is exactly what you need when all that needs to be said is, "She's amazing. You should be so proud".

Anna is smart, Anna is ahead of her peer group, Anna is a wonderful writer with a vivid imagination and grasp of language, Anna is clever and delights in problem solving, Anna asks questions and looks for better answers, Anna is curious and self-motivated. Anna is a delight.

Smiling and nodding, I glanced briefly at her test scores and work samples, all the while keeping an eye on Jack. He'd stealthily made his way over to a supply shelf and was re-arranging water bottles and tissue boxes. With a pleasant thank you for all her work with Anna over the year, I gathered up the papers, roughly re-stacked the shelves and scooted Jack out the door, back to the car we'd only moments ago come running from.

Now maybe it sounds like my distraction meant I wasn't impressed by Anna's teacher's assessment. That's not the case. I am SO proud of Anna, immensely proud to the point of my heart bursting sometimes when I see her in action. But what focuses my attention isn't really test scores and worksheets from her classroom. What thrills me is that she epitomizes the idea of  "do what you love, love what you do". Even better, she's really GOOD at what she loves to do. Put those two together and I know my daughter is happy.

She can read all the books she wants. What she doesn't understand, she'll look up. When what she learns gives her an idea, she'll think of ways to experiment with it and make a game about it. Then maybe she'll sit down later, to relax, and write a story about it. And on and on and on. The whole time she's learning and impressing teachers and acing tests... she's happy.

I'm so proud of what she can do with that little head of hers, but mostly I'm just happy that she loves to do all those things in the first place. Now I've just got to think of some projects to keep up with her this summer. Any ideas?

"MIIIIINE!"

Jack is a tattler. His especial nemesis is Silvia. He wants whatever she's playing with, she deliberately plays with things he wants. It's a fiesty brew. Several times a day, Jack comes running over to tell me she's wronged him, mostly by pointing and accusingly declaring, "Cici [mumblemumblemumble] MINE!".

Today, I went in to get him up from his nap. I'd had to wake him a bit early so we could go pick up Silvia at school and he was still half-asleep and sweaty as he sat up.

"Hi, Mama", he said in a blurry, sweet voice. And then, sounding confused but firm, he moaned, "Cici NO! MINE!".

Gee, I wonder what he'd been dreaming about?

Pancake revelation

I am fairly honest when it comes to admitting I don't like to cook. I can do it, but it's not my happy place, not the way a trip to Bermuda in the spring time with frilly umbrella drinks would be. But when it comes to breakfast foods, I not only don't like to cook, I just can't.

I botch scrambled eggs, my french toast is soggy, and omelettes are just plain laughable. My waffles are ok, but that's mostly due to the machine and the batter I make is pretty inconsistent. Pancakes are my real debacle, though. I have NEVER made good pancakes. I burn them or serve them raw or they come out so runny they're practically just really bad crepes.

This morning, though... oh, my.

It's been raining hard since last night, a nasty 12 hour thunderstorm. No one slept well (except Kurt, who's immune to sound at night). We have some dentist appointments today so Anna's staying home from school, since the only time I could get the kids in was mid-day. We are all out of cereal and I couldn't even offer to butcher some eggs since we only had one.

In desperation, I flew to the 'nets and found this recipe. Doubtful but with hungry kids clamoring at my heels, I threw it together. And guess what? It took about 5 minutes to make and another 10, maybe, to cook the entire batch.

I poured them into the pan and they... fluffed up. LIKE REAL PANCAKES. They browned smoothly ON BOTH SIDES. Even with my failure at timing and flipping, they didn't burn or come off raw in the inside.

And then, miracle of miracles, my children actually ate them, even Jack, with gusto, asking for more. Murmuring through full mouths that they tasted like the best banana bread ever.

I made pancakes, everyone. And they were GOOD. I even got all wild and adjusted the recipe a little bit (not that adding vanilla is an adjustment, but it made me feel adventurous). Not sure how my day could get any better. They're so easy I'm going to go ahead and make a double batch up and freeze them. The possibilities are endless: topped with peanut butter or fruit or just warmed up to eat on the go as is.

It's a sad state of affairs in the kitchen when a fluffy pancake can make me so happy, but I don't care. I'll take it!

Banana Oatmeal Pancakes
(makes about 12)

1 cup flour
2 tsp baking power
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/4 tsp cinnamon
1/4 cup oatmeal

1 egg, lightly beaten
1 cup milk
1 tbsp oil
1 tsp vanilla
2 tbsp sugar

1 cup mashed bananas (about 2)

Sift together dry ingredients and stir in oats, mixing well. In a seperate bow, mix together the wet ingredients and sugar. Fold wet into dry until just combined. Let batter stand for about 5 minutes to soften the oats. Over medium-high heat, pour 1/4 cup of batter for each pancake. Cook about 1 minute or until bubbles start to appear, flip and cook another 1 minute or so on other side. Serve.

Ta-da! As my grandmother used to say, easy peasy lemon squeezy. Only there's no lemon, but whatever.

The hanging tree

Our house here in Plano has an enormous backyard, full of fruit trees, roses and open space. Now that spring has come to Texas (yes, it has! In February! Insanity!), the kids play outside pretty much every day until they get tired or start to fight. Actually, these two tend to coincide most of the time.

A favorite game is swinging. Now, we don't actually have any swings out back, but the girls are nothing if not imaginative. They take their jump ropes, secure them up over some branches and get down to business, hanging like monkeys and attempting to climb up the ropes and swing about maypole-style. All in all, it's a fairly innocent game that keeps them occupied for long periods of time.

One instance, though, resulted in one of those parenting moments where you find yourself saying (or in this case, shouting) things you never could have imagined you'd say in your whole life.

Jack was out back with the girls while I cleaned up the kitchen. The arrangement of the house is such that I can fairly easily check on the kids from inside and the yard is basically safe for the baby, especially with the girls out there playing and keeping an eye on him.

Or so I thought.

Midway through the dishes, I heard an angry scream from Jack. Sighing, I walked over to the back door expecting a tantrum because someone took away his ball.  Instead I was greeted with the sight of my daughters trying to tie Jack up with the jump ropes and heave him off the ground. The ropes were wrapped all around his waist, legs and shoulders. Yes, shoulders. As in, inches from sliding up around his neck.

I slammed out the door, hollering, "Stop it right now! Do NOT hang your brother from the tree!".

They threw me some guilty glances, lowered him down while each babbling out explanations about how it was the other one who made her do it. Jack, all the while, was wiggling free and yelling in frustration. Once free, however, as I hustled over to pick him up and save him, he grabbed one of the dangling ropes and started pulling, trying to get back up.

We now have a basic rule against tying people up. We'll see how long that lasts... before the next thing.

I'm safe with them, right?

5 years and 18 months

Silvia and Jack had their wellness check-ups today. That's the pediatric idea of a birthday present-- here, let's stick a needle in you, or maybe two or three!

At 5, Silvia is a healthy little monkey. She's still smaller than average, but she always has been so that's not a big surprise. One stumbling block at any exam with her now is her incredible shyness. She just shuts down. She won't respond, won't whisper an answer to me and gets progressively more withdrawn the more someone pushes to get a reaction from her. This makes it hard to get vision and hearing tests done, but the doctor was very patient with her and they worked through it. She'd point at a star shape and ask if it was a fish or a house so Silvia would shake her head and then ask if it was a star to get a nod. After about 5 minutes of that down the chart, we decided she still has 20/20 vision.

This year was the first time Silvia's ever had her blood drawn. I was very nervous for her, mostly because I'm still in shock from when Anna was 2 and went to the hospital with rotavirus. They had to wrap her in a blanket and fully restrain her to get an IV in, it was awful. But this was a whole different bag of tricks and Silvia did great. I gave her a lollipop, held her hand and chatted to her about all the blood tests I had to have when I was pregnant. The nurses were very smooth, got the needle in, the vials filled and a band-aid on all in less than a minute. Impressive! Silvia didn't even cry. Shy, yes... but tough.

Jack, on the other hand...wow. He has some lungs! He's been sick and has about ALL his teeth coming in, but I've never seen him so upset at the doctor, usually he's a charmer. He screamed the whole visit, from the weigh-in to the shots finale. He, too, is under-weight but more so than Silvia. The doctor made a comment that he needs to be eating three meals and two snacks every day. I burst out laughing. Sure thing. I'll get right on that. Is it ok if I just put it all through the blender, sit on him and pour it down his throat? Because that's the only way it's gonna happen.

That boy just will NOT eat. It's a struggle every day. Any suggestions will be appreciated, really.

So other than skinny and surviving needles, the kids are doing great. Silvia is moving up to a booster seat now. The rule is 40 pounds and four years old. She's 36 pounds but since she's already five, we got the green light to change up anyway since her legs are getting pretty dangly in the carseat. I wonder what it's like to have a 40 pound four year old?

Silvia turns 5

Silvia had a girly birthday, which suits because she is a super duper girly girl. After much deliberation, she decided on five things she wanted to do: go see Beauty and the Beast 3D, go to The Disney Store to pick out a present, go to Starbucks, go to a restaurant for dinner and have Daddy make her his special deep dish pizza for dinner.

Since there was only a limited amount of time and some of the requests overlapped (two dinners? Don't kids usually want two desserts?), we broke it up over the whole weekend. Saturday Kurt took the girls to the movies while I stayed home with Jack. Then we all went out to dinner at Chili's. (The Starbucks and restaurant requests come from the fact that we've instituted a no-eating-out rule recently, but that's another story).

On her birthday Sunday, she woke up to a table of presents and a brand new big girl bike. She's been scooting around on the bike we got her a couple years ago and it's gotten way too small. Her little legs pump like crazy and practically hit her chin with her determination to pick up speed. It's funny because as the younger sister, you'd think she'd follow Anna's example of caution, but it's the other way around completely. Once Silvia started going as fast as she could, Anna started trying to go a little bit less slow.

On her new bike, she's a speed demon. It's been a little confusing getting used to the reverse brakes, but I think by the next time we get her wheels to the ground (when all this chilly rain lets up), there will literally be no stopping her.

She also got some new clothes, a Wii game, a purse and a pretty heart pendant necklace that she wears almost every day. Then, after a prelude for a vanilla steamer (ok, and a latte for me) at Starbucks, she and I headed to The Disney Store. We've walked past it a dozen times and I've always refused to go in, knowing that would be inviting disaster. She was practically breathless crossing the threshold.

After a fevered circuit of all its treasured corners and much deliberation, she settled on getting a princess costume and shoes, though which princess took some time. As she said, "Oh, mom, it's just so hard, I keep changing my mind, whew!". She eventually chose a white Cinderella dress and "glass" slippers. I caved on the budget and got her a doll, too. I'm a pushover that way.

In true Silvia fashion, she collapsed into a nap on the couch shortly after we got home, waking up just in time for pizza and cake.

It was a whirlwind, exciting weekend and at the end of it all, she went to bed in her new dress-up with a smile on her face, shiny slippers on her feet and arms overflowing with a variety of stuffed animals and dolls-- some new, some old. She didn't want anyone to feel left out.

(As a side note, I find it amusing that, after years of fighting the Disney character-themed merchandise, my house is now bursting to the seams with princesses. Always remember, in parenting as in life, never say never. You may end up eating your words at a pink Cinderella tea party.)

shoes!

Or, more accurately, "shzzzz!". My son is all about the accessories.

But "shzzz" is a multi-purpose word. It goes a long way around these parts; shoes, juice, cheese. All with very subtle changes of tone that often only Silvia and I can differentiate. She does a lot of translating for Jack. There is also "baa": bottle, ball, bar (as in cereal bar). "Meh" is for milk. He will specify if he wants a cup of juice or a bottle of milk. Woe to you should you mix it up. Jack has a VERY distinct sound for, "You have FAILED ME".

He's developed quite a vocabulary and we find him fairly understandable most of the time. More importantly than that, though, is that Jack understands US very clearly. We can send him on errands around the house (so fun!), tell him to put a certain thing away or give something to someone. We can also ask him which foods he wants to eat, which leads to his favorite new word.

"No". And also, "NO!". That ties into, "mine!" and conversely, "okay". But mostly just "no".

There are a dozen other cute variations on common words he has, but mostly just imagine the word, take the final hard consonant off the end (and possibly drop the first syllable), and you have the word. For instance, "remote" comes out as "mo" with a barely there "t" on the end. Sounds confusing for an outsider, but in the tradition of all close families, we understand him pretty well.

And if it's all in our heads or he's just messin' with us, it's still really cute.

"SHZZZ!"

Last minute dash still wins the race... or at least crosses the finish line.

This year was Anna's first school science fair. She brought home the paperwork in late October, absolutely THRILLED and pumped up about doing a project with her dad for the whole school to see. The fair was set for the beginning of January, though, and foresight is not one of Anna's strengths.

Every week or so we'd remind her it was coming up, ask about what she wanted to do, what topic she wanted to explore. Every week the answer was, "I don't want to do that right now, I don't know, let's do it later". I suppose as parents we could have forced the issue, made her sit down, focus and get started. But we kept thinking about the stereotype of the parent who "helps" a child do a project by just DOING the project for them. So we left it to her, with frequent reminders.

Anna had no interest at all until, in a sudden fury, she came home from school on her first day back after the holidays.

"Mrs. Ziegler wants to know who's doing the science fair! She said everyone needs to turn it in on Thursday next week! All my friends are doing it, I need my project!". She was in a SNIT, anxious, worried and mad at US that she hadn't started yet.

Oh, boy. Or in this case, oh, girl.

We quietly pointed out that the project is supposed to have around 6 weeks of study with a science notebook documenting the steps and observations and that she had ignored all our reminders. We also pointed out that we had, in fact, only 6 days. We told her it was too late, but maybe next year she'd learn from this and start early. The drama that ensued was akin to what would happen if we let her bring home a puppy from the store and then took it back about an hour later. Devastation and anger. It was so UNFAIR. WE, her miserable parents, were so UNFAIR.

In truth, we did feel bad. She was genuinely upset, begging over and over again. Eventually, after talking to her teacher and deciding that she could learn the lesson here without having to lose everything, we decided to let her go ahead with the project. The understanding was that she would do nothing BUT the project until it was done-- no playdates, no leaving it up to daddy. And daddy, in case you didn't know, is all about the scientific method. There would be NO skipping of steps.

It was a marathon. Kurt took the lead while I held the other kids back on the sidelines. He guided her gently through each observation and hypothesis without doing any of the work for her. When I asked him how that felt for his analytical mind to step back and let her figure stuff out, he sighed, stretched his tired neck muscles and muttered, "it's really, really hard".

But Wednesday night, at not-quite the eleventh hour (but not far from it)., Anna's project was finished. The display created, the notebook complete, the detailed report written in laboriously tidy print by her own small hands.

Her experiment was to see what floats and what doesn't, with two evolving hypotheses based on her observations and a suggestion for the next project about WHY certain things float and others don't. For a 1st grader, it was quite a feat. And as she dragged the big poster board creation into school on Thursday, Anna said fervently, "Next year, I'm going to start on November 4th (the day after her birthday), right away. I promise."

I think she still had cramps in her hand at that point, but it was worth it. "What Floats and What Sinks" won second place for the K-2 Fair. She was modestly pleased, dismissive and mostly just happy to be done. But you have never seen a prouder papa.

Sweet Dreams

One night not so long ago, our house was quiet. That right there is a beautiful memory, but it gets even better. The children had all gone peacefully to bed, Kurt was settled at his computer doing whatever it is he does there and I had curled up in bed, bundled in warm blankets, reading a new book.

Into this cozy atmosphere drifted... a laugh. It was soft and slightly muffled, but still tingled with excitement. Sighing, I unwrapped my cocoon and walked over to the girls' room, thinking to settle them back down from illicit bunk bed playing. As I reached the door, though, I heard the laughter again and then the rustle of blankets coming from Silvia's bed.

She was still asleep, smiling and laughing at some dream. Then her little lips opened again and she giggled out, "Anna!", rolled over to her side and quieted back down into her covers. For all the fighting, grumping and general sisterly nonsense those two can muster, Silvia's sweet dreams show what lies underneath it all-- and it's happy.

Thank goodness I've been keeping little notes!

It’s been months since I’ve done a full catch up for the kiddos. Since this site is, for the most part, a way to help me remember all the little things in their lives that I want to savor, I’m going to spend the next week or two filling in some gaps. After all, how am I supposed to finish their mythical baby books if I don’t write down these things somewhere?  So prepare yourself (you few and faithful readers) for some timeline confusion to come.

October 2011