Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Music makes my world sing


Music seriously hits a chord with me. It's how I live my days. Whether I have a tune or an annoying little commercial jingle in my head, it is how I start each day. The music, the rhythm, the lyrics...they all play a part in how my mood is or how it turns out to be. I also have to feel motivated enough when I am feeling down to WANT to feel "up" enough to turn on that "feel-good" music to snap me out of it and get me back to feeling ME.

In life, there seem to be different musical themes and soundtracks. For instance, Christmas would not be right without the sweet sounding carols that are played throughout the season. Summertime is another fun, musical time of year. The latest tunes can be heard from houses, beaches, parties and from cars going by.

We all have our own soundtrack. Songs that bring us back to our past in just an instant. It has to be one of the neatest phenomenons when we feel that we are transported back in time as soon as a radio station plays a song. I wonder what songs might bring my children back to this place in time RIGHT NOW. I wonder what songs will do the same for me? Some time in the future, I might be at the grocery store and a song will come on and I will then be transported back to sitting in my son's room while he is napping and I am writing my blog. I will be in this place right at this very moment even if for just four minutes. How magical that is.

Music helps me make dinner, dance with my children and decorate for Christmas. Music makes me feel better, sing better and write better. It makes me feel for other people, share and understand another point of view and focus on feelings. Music can break my heart, make me cry and tell a story better. Sometimes, it's another writers words that helps me to explain what I am feeling better than mine can and the musical tones behind the words just drives the point home.

I love sharing music with my kids. I give them a palate full of different music to listen to. From Frank Sinatra to Dave Matthews to Jack Johnson to Justin Timberlake and everything in between. I shouldn't be surprised when I hear Kyle singing out loud while he is playing or humming the tune to General Hospital while he is taking his shoes off. I shouldn't be surprised when I hear Charlie singing at the top of his lungs "Video Killed the Radio Star" while he is having Buzz Light Year and Woody battle it out with Emperor Zurg. I shouldn't be surprised. But I am. It surprises me, makes me laugh and gives me such a warm feeling inside. I'd like to think they are picking up good habits from me and not just those bad moments I have when I shout out a word because I stubbed my toe.

Nighttime consist of stories read and songs sung by me or my husband. And Charlie melts my heart when he serenades me with the Sound of Music soundtrack that he knows word for word. The cuteness is just too much to comprehend when he is singing with such passion and emotion "...when the DOG BITES, when the BEE STINGS...when I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things and then I don't feel soooo bad."

I have been told this is the time that children learn at their best. They can pick up words, songs, even another language because their brains are like sponges right now. So I teach them manners, sign language, numbers and letters and yes, MUSIC. I am in no way a musician, nor do I know how to read musical notes and cannot sing in a kind of voice anyone would want to hear on the radio. But I am an avid listener of what I would consider a plethora of good music. Someday, I would like to learn how to play piano. Who knows, maybe one of my boys will teach ME.

So sometimes you might find me drifting off to another time and space because of a random melody that found it's way into a current playlist.... but for now, I live in this moment with my children and my husband listening, dancing, playing and singing to our own soundtrack.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

The mystery of the twinkle….solved.

Have you ever heard that expression; "You can see the twinkle in her eyes." What exactly IS a twinkle? What do people actually see? Is it water? A stray eyelash? That sleepy stuff that builds up? Is it really only salty tears brought on by a chemical reaction in our bodies? I suppose some Scientists and Doctors would come up with a sort of factual based reasoning. But I think it's more than that.


I just recently hosted my first Thanksgiving at my house. My Mother and I had talked about having a special separate Thanksgiving this year since we haven't really spent Thanksgivings together since I was young. I was excited and a bit anxious at the same time.


My Mother and I picked out the date and planned the menu together. I started feeling the excitement of the holiday already. It was fun for me right from the first moment of planning. Through text messages, emails and phone calls, we communicated while in the grocery store, when new ideas and thoughts crossed our minds and just to check in. I felt the bond with my Mother growing stronger. Through new technology and old traditions, I felt like we bridged across generations and time.


My Mother came over early that morning of our special Thanksgiving Day. The boys were already showered and dressed in fall colors of orange and brown and looked very handsome with their new haircuts. I, however, had not even showered yet, but it didn't matter. The excitement was in the air. My hair was pulled back and sleeves were rolled up. I was ready to rumble with that turkey, or so I thought.


My Mom and I chatted for a bit about life and current events in our lives. The boys were excited to have Nana at our house. She played with them for a little while, while I cleaned up the kitchen; picking up crumbs, old mail and other every day items from the week.


Mom kept saying "We need to get this turkey set." I knew I was ready. We we finally settled on the time that we would be ready to eat and we put a list together. My organized Mother put times, ingredients and other essential details next to each item on the list. We had a plan. We worked on different tasks throughout the morning like making the string bean casserole, creamed onions, butternut squash soup and peeling sweet potatoes. We had good talks, laughed a lot, we listened to old Christmas music she used to play when I was a little girl, we played with the boys, read books and had lunch.


It was now nap time for the boys and almost turkey time. We got the boys down to sleep and my Mom looked at me with a big grin. "You ready?" She asked. "I think so." I said nervously. We referred to the list and knew we only had a short time to get the turkey in the oven by our scheduled time of 2:00pm.


She had me do everything at the beginning and kept telling me. "This is your turkey today. You're going to do it." I took a deep breath and started cutting into the plastic netting and wrapping around the turkey. We cleaned the sink and plopped the bird in. I felt myself starting to loose the oomph that I once had before I realized I really had to stick my hand inside this BIRD. I had to separate myself from the fact that this soon-to-be main meal was once a living thing with parts and pieces that I would recognize more easily if it were alive. I started having conversations with myself about how bizarre this tradition really was. And who were the people that had the jobs of providing all of these birds to the stores in this fashion? I finally calmed myself down by reminding myself that Norman Rockwell's family did it and it's all part of the holiday season. I suddenly heard the Lion King Soundtrack in my head "It's the Ciiiiirrrrrcle of Liiiiiiiife....." I was jolted out of this private discussion inside my head by my Mother saying "You're supposed to be doing this...C'mon, shove that stuffing inside the cavity." "Awwww, Mom!" I shouted. "Do you have to use words like that? Cavity?" We laughed and she took over the dirty work, acknowledging that she did not realize how squeamish I was.


We got all the stuffing in and she rubbed the turkey with the remainder of stuffing on her hands. "This will help it to get golden brown at the end." She said. She had me do the honors of putting the turkey in. We closed the door to the oven and looked at the clock; exactly 2:00pm.


We finished up the other side dishes and I had to run to the grocery store to get more butter and rolls. While I was gone, Charlie woke up from his nap and played with my Mother; working on puzzles, reading more books, they enjoyed each other. I returned home and soon Kyle woke up and he helped out with the puzzles too. And then there it was...as all of this hustle and bustle went on, I didn't even remember that eventually there would be rewards. The glorious aroma of turkey permeated through my house. It really hit me when Charlie asked me what that smell was. "It smells so good in here, Mommy." My heart melted and I knew a tradition had been formed.


The boys were jumping around in delight, the final preparations were in full force and one by one the other members of the family came in from work. That holiday feeling was felt by all with cheers as each person came in and wine was poured. "What can I do to help?" was shouted in excitement by a few different voices. We couldn't decide who was best to slice the turkey and whether I had a big enough platter to put it on. Before we knew it, the Thanksgiving dinner was spread out in buffet style across my counter and everyone was picking out their favorites and loading up their dishes.


I looked around the room at my family members as a few different conversations went on simultaneously. The magic unfolded around me at every turn. Kyle and Charlie were so elated to have everyone over and even though they barely ate anything on their plate, they made up their own new Thanksgiving traditions like dunking their bread in cranberry sauce and playing Candyland with their Grandfather. Somewhere within all the table conversations, all the mmmms and aaahhhs about the food, I saw it. I looked across the table at my Mother and caught her eye. I saw a twinkle in her eye and words just poured out of my mouth "Happy Thanksgiving, Mom. Today was fun." I said. She looked at me with a big smile and said "This was wonderful. I am so happy. Happy Thanksgiving." And there it was, the twinkle. In my own Mother's eye, I saw that twinkle. I knew right then what it was all about. Every twinkle is a memory made, a moment remembered and special traditions created and dreamed up actually come to life.


I woke up the next morning having a mini panic attack. I realized I had not taken any pictures. I am the picture maniac in my family. I love to document my life with words but also with pictures and video. I felt sick to my stomach with this realization that there was no photo documentation of this glorious day I had with my Mother, the golden brown turkey that I made with her for my first Thanksgiving, no moments captured. So I as someone very close to me said, I was meant to write about this day and I must have been so engrossed in the awesome-ness of the day that I did not even think to take pictures. And even though a part of me believes this to be just fluff, I have these memories so close to my heart that another part of me will always remember how special it was, especially when I see that twinkle in my Mother's eye or when I look in the mirror, I will know why.

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Remembering ...


I often wonder what memories my kids will keep in their mental pockets and which ones will be long forgotten.

I think about the things I can remember from my childhood. Those memories make me so happy.

I can remember cooling off in a big spaghetti pot in my Grandparent's backyard during the heat of the summer because they didn't have a sprinkler or a pool. My Grandmother would make home made bubbles for me and while I played and splashed in the pot, we would both blow bubbles at each other. I can still smell the dish soap and even the water, for that matter. I used to think my Grandmother's hands were magic. She could stick them into the hottest water I have ever felt when she washed dishes. She told me her hands got used to it. Mine never did. OUCH! She always had beautiful nails and the softest skin. The sharp distant sound of a ball cracking a baseball bat on TV with a roar of a crowd still gives me warm goosebumps. I can still remember the feeling of laying in bed in the dark, hearing the low rumble of the window fan and hearing the Red Sox baseball game echo through the house.

There are so many memorable times with my other Grandparents too. In the morning, my Grandmother and I listened to Bob Steele on her little radio in the nook. In the afternoon, we watched old movies in her kitchen on a small black and white TV while she made her sauce or soup or some other special recipe for dinner. I tried to watch my Grandmother's every move in order to remember how she did things. Reheat macaroni in a pan on the stove, water from the tea kettle goes into the pan, wipe your hands on your apron when they get dirty. I remember trying to memorize it all. I used to stand behind her while she was at the sink and would straighten her shirt for her. She always told me that was such a big help. I remember the smell of my Grandparents basement, whether it was considered to be a good smell or not, I can still recognize the smell today and again, it's a comfort to me. The silence of golf makes me think of my Grandfather. That may not make any sense to you, but it does to me. Music was especially important in this house too. And a certain kind of music makes me feel like a little girl again dancing with my Grandfather. You must have reminders or triggers of memories too that would make no sense to others, but make you feel warm and comforted.

The first house I really remember living in... A warm summer day, I remember snapping the ends off of string beans with my Mother in our kitchen. A cold, winter, snowy day, I can still smell fresh wood burning in the neighborhood fireplaces. That smell still to this day reminds me of when I was little in that house. The sound of a chainsaw in the wintery distance cutting up wood. Again, when I hear this sound today, I think about winter and when I lived in that first house. Playing in the driveway on my bike, the sound a bouncing ball made on the sidewalk that went to the back of the house. I remember long walks through the woods in the back with my father and the sound of the leaves crunching under our feet. I remember the fun little noises my Mother used to make when we were in a hurry just to make it more fun for us. I loved the smell of my Mother's wool brown coat when she would pick me up after work. I loved to cuddle with both of my parents when they were together. That was one of my favorite things and they knew it. They would say "It's cuddle time!" And we would cuddle together on the couch at night.

I think of little sayings, stories and songs from my childhood and how much they mean to me now like "Snug as a bug in a rug" "I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck" "Soups on!" "You're full of cheese" Singing Christmas songs. Singing all of the words to the Annie soundtrack with my Mother and sister. Going to baseball games and to the movies with my family.

So when I think of these crazy memories of mine with odd details, I wonder what will spark my children's memories of me and B and their Grandparents. Will they remember the good times? The crazy times? The times they fell to the floor in a complete and utter melt down because I combed their hair or put a shirt on them with buttons?

Will they remember our rides home from preschool every day? Will they remember the talks we have had about stop lights, pot holes and what exactly UPS does? I hope they remember taking walks with me around the neighborhood on warm days, playing hide and seek behind the big trees in the back yard, our daily races around the house outside, doing the laundry together, our trips to Stew Leonards, making tents in the family room and all of our wild adventures.

I hope they remember all the times with their Grandparents like Wednesdays with Nana either at our house or hers, playing hide the seven dwarves, putting up seasonal stickers on the windows and special times in the back yard filling bird feeders and swinging on the hammock with Pepa. Beach weekends with Pepa P and E in Rhode Island and playing with the drums and spider at their house. And special times at the park, museums, hiding the apples in their living room, the trampoline and yearly hayride with Memee and Papa.

Fruit snacks, puzzles, painting together, coloring books, errands, grocery shopping, recycling, the car wash, Rita's, apple picking, playing the wii, picnics in the backyard, movie night, popcorn, cupcakes with rainbow frosting, playing in the sprinkler, riding bikes in the driveway, the way we kiss goodnight in a special way, songs we sing and stories we read. Moments I will never forget and I just wonder if they will remember them too. I hope they will. What will spark those memories; a smell, a feeling, a sound or a simple word or remark? I wonder.

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Gifts


Gifts are wonderful treasures in our lives. Gifts are not always just brown paper packages tied up with string or red foiled boxes with a bright green bow on top. Gifts come to us in many different ways.

A gift could be a little bit of nature, ordinary nature, but for some reason, a ladybug might catch your eye, like one did for me today. Literally, it looked like she and I connected eye to eye. Hers, itsy-bitsy little eyes looking through what looked like sunglasses and mine; squinting to see in the strong rays of the sun amongst all of the other thousand ladybugs on my front porch. But that little moment was a gift to me and made my day a little brighter.

Or gifts can be little special moments brought to you by your children. Even when they don't mean to, they give you gifts. Ahhh, so many gifts. My kids give me many gifts every day. A kiss, a hug, a smile, a cute new facial expression. No matter what it is, each gift is shared in a special way.

I was looking for a challenge. A new challenge for these boys. A new book of games, math problems, puzzles. "Hmmmm.....What could we get at the library to give us a challenge today..." Half way though looking through aisles of books, toys and puzzles, Kyle said he had to go potty. The three of us went to find the bathroom and I changed Charlie's diaper while we were in there. During this busy bathroom event, I took notice that the kids were acting wrestless, hungry and tired. We walked out of the bathroom and I was now on a mission with a timeframe. It was then that a whiff of a new challenge that I hadn't even thought of, overcame me. A red-faced Charlie looked up at me. It was a diaper blow-out in the middle of the quiet library that only came right after I changed him with the last diaper in the bag. The car was parked blocks away and I could almost hear the squishy pants as we walked quickly through the silence. I guess I should be careful of what I state out loud as the goal for the day.

One morning, on my way to drop the kids off at preschool, I was thinking about how hungry I was and how I did not have time to grab myself something to eat before we left the house. I hear a cry, a whine from the backseat. Uh oh, I thought. "Something is wrong." Suddenly, something moves on the seat next to me. I look over and before I even get a chance to see what it is, something else moves, this time on my head. Another and another hit. Pit, pat, smoos, boomph...."What the heck?" I say out loud. I realize what it is at the same time I hear a little voice from the back say "I don't WANT french toast for breakfast, Mommy!" I think to myself in pure sarcasm "Awww, how thoughtful. He must have known I was hungry." I have to say, I did scrape it off the seat, my hair and the dash for reasons other than wanting a clean car. It satisfied my hunger and yummmm, if I do say so myself.

What is a gift, really? A gift is NOT when your four year old uses kid scissors to cut a piece of plastic wrap at the bottom of his ladybug cup only to catch your hand in the blades. Even though he gave me a nice gash in my hand, this was not a gift. The look on his face was priceless. A gift? No, I don't think that would qualify either. It looked like he felt mortified. Both hands on his cheeks, mouth wide open, eyes wide and scared. He kept repeating over and over: "Oh Mommy! I'm sooooo sorry. I'm soooo sorry, Mommy." A gift IS good manners and an honest feeling of guilt and caring that I must have instilled in him at some point thus far. I asked him if he would kiss it for me and he replied "I really don't want to kiss the bleeding Mommy, I am sorry."

A gift is definitely when I was carrying my sleeping Kyle up to his bed for nap. He suddenly popped his head up off my shoulder and looked at me and said "I love you" in a deep sigh and his head fell back down onto my shoulder.

I received a gift from Charlie today when he gave his Bullseye doll to me and said the doll needed a kiss. I was so touched just with the one statement. But he went on to say "Mommy, Bullseye loves you because you rub his back at nightime and sing songs." This was just so special as I am thinking (hoping) this is really how Charlie feels!

We all get gifts. Gifts for birthdays. Gifts for holidays. The best gifts are the ones we get to give to other people and the cool thing is, it does not have to be a material thing. I love how my kids make me feel, make me laugh and melt my heart. Those are the true gifts. They have so many talents that will develop over the years that will then benefit other people. Maybe they will use those gifts to be an actor, a CFO, a publisher, a Senator or a chef ... someday.

For now.... I'll keep my hands away from scissors and work harder on potty training!




Saturday, October 10, 2009

Crazy Days


Crazy Days are sometimes my happiest days and sometimes my most overwhelming days. Sometimes I think other people looking into the window of my life and only seeing a couple of moments must think I am a lunatic. But I truly love my life and every day even when overwhelming or crazy. Some days take away my "me time" and some days give me the most wonderful gifts of new wonderment, new words, new ideas and so many smiles.

Aquarium. No stroller. Excited, semi-tired, semi-hungry boys in the dark with fish. The picture I paint should give you a good indication of how it might have gone. I called Charlie "Jelly Legs" quite a few times. Camera hanging from my shoulder, backpack hanging on my other side and Charlie in the middle of the aisle on the floor laughing; thinking it's a big joke that he is not getting up. I pick him up and take him over to a bench to sit. A tampon flies out of the backpack as I am trying to find him something to snack on. I take a seat to look and sit in a puddle of water. Once in the backpack, I noticed that a bottle of Benedryl had opened and spilled into the bag. I'm a flibertygibit, a nut. Charlie spots a turtle. He hollers out "A turtle! My friend, a turtle!" and tugs my hand to take him over to say hello.

A little later, we sit together eating raisins and watch a gigantic sea lion swim about his pool. Charlie looks at me and tells me "I really like this place." About 20 minutes later, flash forward to me carrying Charlie out of the aquarium store like I am carrying a log. He is kicking and crying and yelling out that he wanted that big book. My blood sugar is running seriously low and I'm very shaky. I speed past other aquarium visitors like a Mom on a mission; hoping they all understand...my child needs FOOD and SLEEP NOW. Of course, so do I at that point.

Charlie asks me: Mommy, can I have Princess Aurora in here with me, please? I say sure and go get her and Prince Philip as well. Charlie responds as he hands Prince Philip back to me "I didn't talk about him at all. Just Princess Aurora."

I am in the car with my family, I am in the passenger seat. The car is pretty quiet. Kyle is starting to fall asleep. Charlie is playing with a doll in his car seat. B and I are talking on and off. It's a nice ride. We're going to be in the car for a bit. My phone rings. It's my Father. I had been wanting to talk with him. It's like a switch, I answer and suddenly, Charlie needs me. As I talk with my Father, I hear "Mommy....Mommy.....Mommy...." getting louder and louder. B tries to help him, but the chanting continues louder and louder. Then it turns to more of a squeal and a growl of frustration. I strain to listen to the voice of my Dad telling me somethings that I really need to hear. I respond to him as I hold one finger in the ear not on the phone, increasing the volume of my voice as if he cannot hear me. We chat back and forth as the screaming gets louder and then.....beep beep beep, the calls goes dead.

Kyle and I are talking quietly before bed. "Mommy, remember this......how funny....remember that....remember how we....." We laugh together about those memories he just brought up. He then pauses and says "Oh! And Mommy!!! Ummmm....." "What?" I asked. "Ummm." He mutters again. "Ummmm.....nevermind. I kind of forgot what I was going to say. Let me think about it again and then tell you, ok?"

It's a quiet afternoon. The boys are napping. I rush around as I usually do each afternoon; making my lunch, cleaning the kitchen, emptying the school bags and lunch boxes, making lunches for the next day, doing laundry, folding, etc. I sit on the couch to eat my lunch and watch a little General Hospital. My bottom touching the couch must sound an alarm in the boys' rooms. I hear the toys starting to come alive in their rooms, the sound effects and little voice saying "Mommy, I'm awake now!"

"Mommy, when are my friends going to come to our house? When they do, are they going to use that little TV to get here? How will they know how to get here? I want them to come here to our house so we can play together and with you."

I like to think I'm strategic in how I plan or not plan my days. And then I think is that wrong of me to plan so "strategically?" I'm a Mother at home, not an executive! But multi-tasking is my forte and it can sometimes hurt more than help. I LOVE to play with my boys. So sometimes, I am not paying attention to the realistic tasks of life that need to be done. Like making dinner so it's ready in time for dinnertime. When I don't do this, I find I end up not eating at all or rushing around still making dinner while my family is eating and then I eat alone. So I try to play and make dinner and do laundry and make it all fun. Sometimes, as strategic as it can be planned, it falls apart in disaster and I end up having two very unhappy children wishing for pasta not chicken, Daddy, not Mommy, juice, not milk, a fork not a spoon and for some reason talking is not allowed.

Keeping my sanity is definitely top on my list of things to do every day. Some days are way easier than others. The cute little moments when my boys tell me they love me or say something as simple as "Bless You" when I sneeze and big hugs out of no where keep me normal, calm and sane.

So to those people in my life that I feel like I am not able to give 100% to during this time in my life, I am so sorry. I hope you understand as you take little peeks into my world through these blogs. I have accepted that I am unable to give 100% to any one thing or person in my life, except for my kids right now. (even then, I am not so sure I give them that much) They are my joy, my fun and my now. I want to enjoy them now while they are with me....before they marry off and have crazy days of their own.

Crazy days are normal for me now and may not be so crazy. I know I will miss them some day, so as crazy as they may be now, I will still try and enjoy every crazy second. And laugh, laugh laugh at those times....after they happen, of course!


Thursday, October 8, 2009

Routine or Tradition?


Dictionary.com defines tradition as a continuing pattern of culture beliefs or practices. As I go through my every day life, I think a lot about traditions. I wonder whether they truly should be called traditions or more practices, habit or routine.

Traditions are so wonderful. They are almost like our imprints from the past. As long as we can document memories and events, they can become tradition. Something that we can repeat and rejoice in every time it happens. Whether it's a certain time of the year, time of day or week.

Some of the moments that I believe to be tradition are times like taking naps every day. Is that a tradition or a routine? Even though it's so ordinary and mundane, it's a special time that helps my boys grow and stay healthy. Sleep is so important and it makes all the times while they are awake more special because they are happier and well rested.

This past week, I took my little guys to the Big E. They loved going and seeing the animals and the clowns and parades and going on the rides. They enjoyed watching the little shows and eating popcorn and treats. I wished so much that B could have come with us. But this was a memory I wanted to become a tradition for them. Whether it was one or both of us, they can count on us taking them to the Big E every year.

I also took them on a hay ride to go apple picking. They loved it so much. They were excited and had so much fun picking and eating the apples. I wish for this to be a tradition each year now too.

This is the time to establish traditions. When kids are young and impressionable. They can sense love and happiness a mile a way. They remember things better now than when they get older. I still hold some of the most fondest memories in my heart from when I was a little little girl. I remember sitting in a room with my Grandmother while she ironed clothes. I was listening to The Wizard of Oz on a record player. I can still feel a cool breeze coming from the window. As my Grandmother pulled in clothes through the window from the clothes line, I sat and watched. I watched her reel in my Grandfather's shirts and tee shirts. I can still smell the heat from the iron. My Grandmother hums and sings to me along with the record player. I can hear her voice as clear as if she were sitting right here with me now as I type this.

I want my kids to remember moments like that. I love that we go to my Mother's house almost every week, we spend time at my Father's cottage as much as we can and spend time with my in laws as well. I love that they form so many memories with me and B as well as all of their Grandparents. I hope they can hold on to those memories for a lifetime and remember what traditions are all about. Family. Happy times. Making new memories every time, every moment, every year. Not just the holidays, but normal every day moments.

Visiting Santa Claus every year with the Sicottes (no matter where he ends up this year), putting pajamas under the pillow in the morning, cuddle time, movie night, game night, noses-noses, beach days and snow days.

I love how Kevin goes into Colin's room every morning just to be with him. Kevin will go in to his room and sit on his rocking chair and just wait for him to wake up. They can play together so nicely and quietly sometimes and sometimes not so much. After nap time, Colin will also go into Kevin's room and play in his room until Kevin wakes up. I hope they always hold these memories in their hearts and they are always close brothers as they are today.

My heart is filled with joy and love. Every day I live is a memory; good or bad. Traditions are what keep us going to keep our love alive even after we are gone. To carry on our family even after only spirits are with us. So excuse me now, while I go wake my children up; a normal routine that has become a tradition I hope they always remember.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Amazement at the Small Things in Life


Kyle just started riding a bike for the first time this summer. I could not get him to ride a two wheeler bike (with training wheels) for the longest time. He would get on the bike and give it one or two pushes and then give up saying it was just too hard for him. But yet, he would always ride the tricycles at school with his friends, no problem.

It was a very exciting time one day when I said I would take out my bike from the shed. (thinking maybe that would get him motivated if he saw me riding) We cleaned off my bike together and made it shine. Then we cleaned off his bike together and made it really shine and sparkle. Kyle was so very proud. I will never forget the look on his face and how he kept saying that was his bike. But he still was a little apprehensive to ride it. So I started to ride my bike around the driveway. Kyle looked almost amazed that his Mommy was riding a real bike. The wind was blowing through my hair and my legs had a weird feeling in them...hmmm, could it be exercise? :) I felt like a kid again, myself. Before I knew it, Kyle hopped on his bike, helmet and all and started to pedal away and off he went. He was riding around the driveway like a pro! My little guy was riding a bike.

A few days ago, my little one; Charlie saw Kyle on his bike. He started to take out the other bike
we have of the same size. I told Charlie that bike might be too big for him right now. But he didn't care.
He tried and tried to get it out anyway. So I helped him and we put on his helmet. And he looked up at me
with the biggest smile and then looked at the bike. I helped him on and he tried to push those pedals
with his little feet. He tried and tried. But he couldn't get it. And then just like Kyle did, he gave up.
I told him not to give up so easily. I encouraged him to keep trying and that I knew he could do it.
I helped him by pedaling his feet with my hands and pushing the bike along. He kept saying "I'm riding a bike,
Mommy. I'm riding a BIKE!" Then he stopped off at the little inlet of our driveway; a place the two of
them fondly call Stew Leonards when they are playing pretend. He jumped off the bike, asked me to take his
helmet off and quickly ran toward the garage in such a hurry. He stopped before he got to the garage.
He quickly whipped around and put his hands up in the air and shouted at the top of his lungs "Mommy!!!!
THAT WAS TOTALLY WICKED!!!!" and he went back to his mission of whatever urgent nature it was. (that line,
by the way, is from The Incredibles) But it was still just the best feeling to see how excited he was and that he
used that movie phrase in the right context. Very cool.

Today was the big movie day. We took them to see the double feature of Toy Story I and II. It was amazing for this
event to happen considering this is one of their favorite movies!!!! They were beyond excited to hear it was coming
to the movies!!!! While in the theater, I wanted to just keep watching their faces more than the movie. They know all
the words by heart and still belly laugh at all the same parts. When my husband took Kyle to the bathroom at intermission,
he told him he was having a great time. Charlie would lean over every once in a while and ask a question or tell me something
about the movie "Buzz is sad because he's not a space ranger." Kyle would shout out during the movie with so much
excitement. I would look at him and he would put his hand over his mouth with a smile, knowing he was supposed to be
quiet. We would just smile and he would say "sorry!" Who knew the movies could be sooooo special and magical! ha.

It's these magical moments that make me appreciate life and appreciate all that I have in my family.
I used to think that magic was just about being a kid, or finding my prince charming. But now I know it's about so many
other ordinary things in every day life. A first bike ride, a feeling of accomplishment, a favorite movie on the
big screen and sharing a smile. This is my life. And ya know what? I think it's just TOTALLY WICKED!!!! :)

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Moments to Treasure


Reflection is always better... don't you think? You always hear people say "Someday, we're going to look back on this moment and laugh." And at the time, you think inside your head "Yeah, right. I cannot imagine ever laughing about this moment." Of course, it always seems so much worse when you're actually going through the event. But it works in reverse as well.

When you are experiencing pure joy and excitement, those memories are just as wonderful to reflect on. It's all about memories....memories that keep us going. The past helps us live for the future. Bad things happen to make us stronger. If we did not know hurt, we wouldn't know pleasure. All of these stinkin' cliches are really so true.

The funny looking-back memories.
The pharmacy. Needed to make a "quick stop" for a couple of essential purchases on the way home from picking up my boys from school. I should have said that sentence a few more times in my head before I went into the store. I would have laughed BEFORE the event even happened and I would have made my way home skipping the store all together at that moment. Two boys lacking naps, tired out from playing hard all morning practically literally pulled me in the store. As each boy tried to grab something off of the shelves, I knew my time was limited. I quickly picked out my items and made my way to the register to check out. Suddenly, for no apparent reason whatsoever, Charlie fell to the ground refusing to get up. Kyle wanted every piece of candy that was displayed in front of us. For some reason at that moment, it was like they heard the chime of a boxing bell. Kyle jumped on Charlie and they began to wrestle. It took everything I had to get them up off of the floor and to check myself out. Finally, with the clerk feeling bad for me, I was out pretty quick. But by this time, I was sweating and it seemed as if an HOUR had gone by! I practically dragged Kyle out with his sneakers skipping the floor while I carried a rapidly growing Charlie in my arms. I was mortified and swore I would never go back. Funny, right? ha.

The Drive to School. I was excited to drive the boys to school in the morning. I do not normally get to drive them. And of course, I was running late and it was tough getting them out the door. They wanted particular things with them that morning. I did not let them bring what seemed like every toy we had in the toy closet and stayed firm. So of course, they started off a little cranky. Not to mention, they love that their Daddy drives them to school regularly. So there we are driving happily...(finally)...down the highway and they realize that they have french toast in their bags for breakfast. (I have to admit, I snuck it in and knew I was taking a risk.) They do not normally have french toast for breakfast. And they sure let me know it on that drive. I drove to school that morning with both kids crying like I gave them a raccoon's tail for breakfast. Hysterical. A mess. It was a wild ride to school through rush hour traffic and attempts at calming them down without being able to reach back and snatch those breakfasts right out of their hands. It finally took a song about school pets saving a baby penguin to calm them down and put them in a better mood.

The Baked Potato Line. Everything was going well at the Big E with just me and my two boys. They went on rides, had lunch, saw some farm animals...and then I was ready for the State Buildings. I was starving for the Maine baked potato. The line was shorter than it has been in the past. But I knew it was still long for the boys to tolerate for too long. Kyle even commented on how long the line looked. Well, from there it not only went down hill, but we were flying down a black diamond at mock speed. Charlie was getting to his over tired breaking point and could not keep his hands off of Kyle. Fingers in his eye, grabbing his hat off his head and putting him in some sort of choke hold. Kyle quickly reciprocated that love and gave it right back to him. I tried to discipline. I tried to ignore it all together. I tried to just let them "play" it out. And I even physically took things away from them and stopped them from hitting each other. As you can imagine, nothing quite worked. And it seemed as though every person in that line was looking and getting annoyed. I really just wanted to crawl under a potato instead of eat one.

The actual funny, awesome moments.
The sky was pink and Kyle pointed out to me that the sunset was so pretty! And saw the moon and got so excited and wanted to show me.

Charlie shouted out "Are you kidding?" when Kyle got out of his bed and came into Charlie's room. (I had done that just the night before when Kyle did this)

In the potato line, I told Charlie to stop poking Kyle in the eye. Kyle was being very silly and shouted out sooooooooooo loud: "EYE? EYESSSS.... Charlie has beautiful eyes!"

Listening to them talk on a play phone: "Hi Madison. Can you come over and watch Madagascar with me and Charlie? I have to pick up a few things at the store. I have to go to Target."

Kyle is not happy that Charlie has one of his toys. He tells him "That's mine, Charlie." Charlie responds with "How do YOU know it is?" Kyle comes right back with "Because it is!" And Charlie says again "But HOW do you know?" Kyle says "Because you, Mommy and Daddy gave it to me for my birthday." Charlie simply comes back with "Oh. I know that."

I was telling Kyle not to play with a huge piece of paper as binoculars. I told him it might give him a nice big paper cut and it would really hurt. He said "Nice? It will be nice? Well, that doesn't sound bad. So I can still play with it?"

Moments in the early morning hours when Charlie or Kyle come in our room and tell either me or B that they love us. Or when they come in and just give us a hug and then run off to play. It's just a wonderful way to start the day!

Charlie leaned over to Kyle and gave him a kiss on his cheek. He put his arm around him and looked straight into his eyes and said "You are my brother, Kyle. You are my big brother."

It seemed as if every person walked by me and my boys at the Big E made a comment about how cute they were. They either said it directly to me or said it to each other as they walked by. Many people asked if they were twins and some even stopped to talk to them.





Tuesday, September 29, 2009

The Words They Say Mean So Much


Today is such a beautiful day. A beautiful weather day and even though I am so tired, a beautiful LIFE day. Today is one of those days that I feel gitty inside just thinking about my children. Don't get me wrong. It's not like I don't normally feel good just thinking about them. But there are just those moments that give you that little butterfly feeling, goosebumps and a smile that just will not go away!

Charlie started my day at about 12:30am telling me he was a little afraid. He put his arms around me and his head down on my chest. I took him back to his room and snuggled him back up in his blankets. He quickly went right off to sleep with a little smile on his face and his hands together under his cheek. He could do commercials or movies if he wasn't so disagreeable and defiant at times. But this was a special moment for me even in the wee hours. He looked like a little cherub asleep in his bed.

A few hours later, I heard “Mommy Mommy Mommy Mommy….” on the monitor. It was Kyle. He did not sound freaked or upset, but it was just a constant chant. In I went to his room and he told me he was scared of his closet. “It’s dark in there. I like it dark in my room, but it’s darker in the closet than it is in here and that scares me.” I told him it was just his clothes and toys in his closet and asked him if he wanted me to close it. He said “It doesn’t close easily. It will just open again." I closed it for him and he drifted back off to sleep.

About a half hour later, he was back in our room. I heard his footsteps as soon as he made it into our room and then it was quiet. I opened my eyes and saw him standing there just looking at me; like he was watching me sleep. I asked him what was wrong and he said “I just wanted to be with you. I love you, Mommy.” I had him hop into bed next to me and he snuggled close. He must know I am such a sucker for that sweet talk. A few minutes later, it still sounded like he was wrestless and could not fall back to sleep. I said “Kyle, please close your eyes.” While snuggled in his new Buzz Light Year pajamas, he said to me “Mom, I’m not Kyle. I’m Buzz Light Year. Can you please call me Buzz?” I said “Sure. Buzz, please close your eyes.” He said "Ok, Mommy." He certainly did because I could not wake him up easily only an hour and a half later.

So yah, I had a couple of little side thoughts at work. (though really, it was a very productive work day for me) But the best part of my day is when I get to leave work and go pick up my boys and I get to see them by 12:45pm every day. They both took naps and when they woke up, we watched a quick episode of Curious George. Charlie sat on the ottoman backwards with his Woody Doll and Kyle sat slightly hanging off of the couch. We had a fruit snack and a splash of milk and we were good to go.

I noticed words today.

Nevermind. Kyle says this a lot. How do they learn words like this. He uses it in the right context and with so much enthusiasm. "Hey Mommy!!" "Yes, Kyle?" "Oh! Nevermind! I was going to ask you for my breakfast. I didn't know it was already at the table! hahahaha." He gets a kick out of himself too and I love that. Charlie just started using "nevermind" today now too. I'm not sure he really used it the right way. But it was adorable when I heard it come out of his mouth.

Actually. This word has been used for a long time now. Kyle uses it in the right context every time and many times during the day. "Actually, I think we better go out the back door so we can play on the swings first. Is that a good idea?" And Charlie will respond "Yes, that is a good idea, Kyle. Isn't that a good idea, Mommy?" And again, Charlie is trying to find ways to use this cool word now too.

Sorry. This word I really love; as any good mother would. I love that my boys use this word. I love that they use it in the right context. I love it when it just rolls off their tongue. As Charlie quickly swung open the refrigerator door, he accidently hit me with it. He whipped out a quick "Ooops. Sorry Mommy. I didn't mean to open the door so fast."

And tonight, as I am doing so well so far in keeping a strict routine, I believe it might actually be getting easier to put Charlie to bed. More cuddle time, more time in the dark than light, more consequences for not listening, staying firm and a quiet, non entertainment bedroom. Charlie whispered to me "Mommy, stay with me for a little bit and then I'll go to sleep." I smiled and gave him a hug. Of course, I was waiting for him to say "Actually, nevermind" :)



Monday, September 28, 2009

A Little Common Sense Sets In...


So as you might have read at the end of my last entry, the bedtime routine was still not going smoothly with Charlie last night. He was still playing his Mom for a fool and giving me a good work out! Hey, that's a great new idea for a work-out video or a new class at the Y. Put a tired toddler/preschooler in the front of the room and the object is to get him into a bed. I think I really have something here. We could call it 'Get Him to Bed' - and you not only get an amazing work out, but you practice techniques on how to get that child in his bed and STAY THERE.

I just do not understand, nor agree with the concept Jo Frost enforces in her book. How can one person possibly keep putting a child into their bed over and over and over again and not completely fall over from exhaustion or frustration. One of her episodes Jo talked into a mic in the mother's ear, feeding her words of encouragement. It was a two hour process until her boys were completely exhausted and fell asleep.

Tonight, my husband was sick with the flu. It was a beautiful fall day and I was outside with the boys all afternoon. Kyle and I did puzzles and colored together until Charlie woke up from nap. As soon as Charlie woke up, we played in the sandbox, we did our daily laps around the outside of the house and we spent a lot of time raking leaves and jumping in them. It was such a great afternoon and we had so much fun. I love this weather and I love my boys so much!

I fed the boys by 5:00pm, we played a little more and we were upstairs in the bath by 6:30pm. We were reading a book by 7:00pm and it was bedtime at 7:30pm. I was so proud of myself. I thought this would be a good test to see if it goes better earlier. But even with the earlier time, Charlie started flashing those crazy eyes at me and letting out that infectious giggle and down the hall he went.... back and forth.... running, laughing and playing. "To infinity and beyond!!!" He shouted down the hall in his Buzz Light Year Pajamas. The melt down was predicted and quick when I told him to come sit down and read the book with us. There were some consequences and a few discussions and he ended up sitting with Kyle and I to read a book....finally.

My patience was wearing thin when he had specific characters to sleep with. I stayed firm on only a couple of characters in his bed. I tried not to reason with him. I even cuddled with them for a while before actually putting them to bed. But he was not ready to settle down. I finally figured I would give up and let him fall asleep in the hallway if he wanted to. But again, I saw the look on the Supernanny's face....like I was a crazy person. So up I went and brought him back to bed. I said good night and left the room. Out he came right behind me, crying and running after me. This routine just kept going on for a while. Until, the last time I brought him in.

He seemed genuinely upset about something. I tried to talk to him so he would stop crying and I could understand what he was saying. We talked about our favorite parts of the day. We talked about playing in the leaves. He named all the colors we saw in the leaves. He just lit up and was so quiet and cute. It was during this conversation that he pulled the blanket up over himself, snuggled up with his Ariel doll and closed his eyes. He was still awake when I left. This conversation took about 2 or 3 minutes and he calmed right down. I loved talking with him about the day and having that one on one time with him.

So I just need to TALK TO HIM???? Maybe he feels like he does not get enough attention from me. Maybe the whole point of all this is just to get to ME. Am I being too full of myself here or could it really be the case? Could it just be me being totally oblivious???? I loved those quiet moments of time with him. If I had done that an hour earlier, would it have still worked the same??? Tomorrow night is a whole different story. Wish me luck.....

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Night #2 - My Own 'Staying in Bed Technique'


And so, we had our second night of working from the Supernanny handbook on getting our little bear to sleep. To sum it all up in the first line; it did not go very well.

Do you remember Gumby? That little piece of green clay and his horse. They could bend and curl up into little objects and twist and turn like ... well, like pieces of clay. Just picture that with a little boy. This child seems to think he's Gumby sometimes. But instead of clay, he is solid and strong; stronger than me sometimes.

Actually, I just remembered what someone told me once about when little kids are tired, they tend to go upside down. They will stand on their head or hang from the couch. I wonder what happens in their brain. Why does it feel so good to go upside down when you are tired? I guess I should try it sometime. Is it comforting? Does it make them feel less cranky? Or does all the blood rushing to their head make them extend their time awake. Does it give them that extra boost like a cup of coffee? I don't know, but whatever it is, my child certainly enjoys it. I can't decide what I think he enjoys more though; going upside down when I am trying to put him to bed or making me CRAZY when I am trying to put him to bed.

So with the CD player now back in his room, I refused to acknowledge it. I refused to give in to his entertainment craving of listening to a bedtime story on CD. Both children decided not to read a book and said they were too tired. But to be honest, I think Charlie actually only said that because Kyle said it. Kyle really did follow through with his plan. Being the big brother and almost five, he knows best. (or so he thinks) He brushed his teeth, went potty, washed his hands, went into his room, turned on his CD player and hopped right into bed. He was gitty and giggly and very well behaved.

Charlie, on the other hand, proceeded to lay on the floor, whining with that low hum that he usually does. There were tears and running nose stuff (i call stuffies) all over the place. He was a mess. Refusing to get into his bed, wanting a book, not wanting a book, wanting a stuffed animal, not wanting a stuffed animal and it goes on. "...A lot of things he'll say he wants will be contradictory. He'll want his shoes on and he'll want his shoes off - at the same time." (pg. 31, Supernanny, How to Get the Best from Your Children)

I have to say, I really gave it the ol' college try. With all my might, I tried not to give in to the CD story. It's Toy Story. It's the current favorite movie, characters and CD story. But it's major entertainment, none the less for this hour of the night. And I'm still dealing with his crying for a Woody Doll, Ham the Pig, Jessie and his cowboy hat....can't forget the cowboy hat!!! A haunting voice makes it's way into my thoughts; "A few comforters or soft toys can all help ease the separation of bedtime, but don't turn the bed into a playpen." (pg. 186, Supernanny, How to Get the Best from Your Children, How to Put Your Child to Bed). I obey the thought and stay firm.

"Don't get in the habit of waiting with your child until he falls asleep. If he's tired and you've been through the routine step by step, he should be fairly drowsy by now and will drift off easily." (pg. 186, Supernanny, How to Get the Best from Your Children, How to Put Your Child to Bed)

This mantra was going through my head like a record with a big scratch on it. As well as thinking "Well, obviously I didn't go through the "routine" step by step the right way....because this child does not show any indications of possibly drifting off easily in the near future." And then... it happened. I gave in. I put the CD story on! Yes, I know. I'm terrible. I saw Jo Frost in my mind glaring at me too with her nose down and disappointed eyes peering over her glasses. I visualized her watching the playback of this horrible scene of me reneging on her laptop the next day and saying to me "What were you thinking?" But exhaustion was setting in for me and I knew how much he needs sleep.

"Remember: you're not being mean. You are simply teaching your child how to get what all kids need, which is a good night's sleep. He doesn't know he needs to sleep, but you do. And you know best." (pg. 180, Supernanny, How to Get the Best from Your Children, Bedtime). And this is how I justified it.

An hour later, Charlie was still awake. The CD was on repeat and even if it wasn't, Charlie knows how to play the CD again. And again. And again. Not wanting to make a big deal out of it all and keep the drowsy theme going (yah, right), I did not take the CD player, but simply turned it off.

And then... I made another grave mistake against the Supernanny hand book. I stayed with him until he fell asleep. I sang him to sleep and sat by his bed. So to quote a bad cliche and make a pun, I made my bed, now I have to lay in it. Which brings us to night #3, which is taking place right now as I write this entry. Trying ever so hard to stick to a better routine, but still pissing off the spirit of the Supernanny, I am sure. I listen to little Charlite-Feet pitter pat over my head upstairs....Dammit!

To be continued...

Friday, September 25, 2009

Signs Come in Many Shapes and Sizes

Tonight, my best friend and I went to see the movie Julie & Julia. Very funny movie; so cute. My Mother used to watch Julia Child when I was little. She made so many of those recipes. Meryl Streep played her so well! So it was really fun to see this movie and how Julia started and how one strong woman can do just about anything.

As many of you may know, Julie is blogging her experiences in cooking each recipe from one of Julia Child's cook books. She goes through many ups and downs and blogs her way through it all. They also show Julia Child's story and how the two lives parallel. Julie was a writer and really wished she could make a living doing something she loved to do. In the end, she was published and as we all know, so was Julia Child. Someday, I hope to have the same dream come true.

It was pretty exciting for me (the now blogger) to see how this simple love of writing and food became an outlet for this character to express herself. Her heart and her passion really motivated her to document her experiences and she was excited to share it all. Maybe some sort of a sign for me? Probably not, since I went to the movie on my own accord. It's not like I was walking down the street and someone fell right in front of me and held up a monitor with the movie playing on it.

I was extremely moved during one portion of the movie. A song started to play and I immediately knew the song. Right then, I was five years old again. Except this time, I had a huge lump in my throat and tears flowing down my cheeks. The song...was A Bushel and a Peck. My Grandmother used to sing me this song when I was little. As we got older, it was reduced to just "I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck." I didn't even remember there was a song. In fact, I still say it to my kids all the time. "I love you a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck." When I heard the song, I instantly remembered the words to a song that were lost in my sub conscience somewhere. Right down to the doodle-doo-doo-doo-dooo-doo..... I had such a warm and loving wooosh of warm air come over me like she was hugging me from heaven. I cannot believe I had forgotten that song from so long ago. I came home and downloaded the song by Doris Day from iTunes. My Grandmother listened to Doris Day? Anyway, so very special. Such a powerful moment for me during a powerful movie for me.

By the way, since I had a girls night tonight and went to the movies, I did not get to take part in the night time routine. My husband; who was not feeling well, had to give in and put Charlie's CD player back in his room with Toy Story playing. He said Charlie gave him some trouble and he just could not go on like the previous nights. In the end, they were both so tired, they barely wanted to read a book and Kyle even said "I just would like to go to bed now." And he got into bed all by himself. Charlie just wanted and needed the CD player. My husband (I'll call him B) turned it on and he's been in bed ever since. Maybe tomorrow night, I will sing Charlie to sleep with Bushel and a Peck. Just might work with an angel on his shoulder. Maybe this is the missing link to getting him to sleep easier.

Thank you all for your love and support as I go through each process of learning and understanding life. Thank you all for reading.




Thursday, September 24, 2009

Bed Time Ritual...

Sitting on the floor putting a puzzle together with my two boys. Charlie; who will be three years old in November looks up at me and asks "Is it night time, Mommy?" I quickly answer "Yes, it is night time and bed time is coming soon." He goes back to finding the right puzzle pieces and seems satisfied with the answer I gave him. Me, on the other hand is frozen in my mind...."Night time?!?" I start to feel pressure in my chest, lump in my throat and I take a deep breath. I know what is to come. I dread what is to come.

Have you ever had that dream where you are running and running and then realize you are not going anywhere? Your surroundings look like the same spot at which you started, you are tired; without any more energy to keep going.

The night time routine usually starts off ok. The boys rush up the stairs like it's a race, even though each of them usually shout out "It's not a race!!!" And whether or not they scream that, they jump up and down yelling "I won! I won!" It's off to brush teeth, go potty, change a diaper, jammies on and then read a book. Throughout the routine, these boys sure make us laugh. With wet face clothes on their heads, they may sing a silly little tune about frogs or wear a diaper as a hat and skip around the 2nd floor from one end to the other. As we do find these antics funny, we realize it is not too calming or relaxing and probably does not prepare them for a restful and non eventful bedtime.

After a book, the dreaded time has come. Kyle usually gets into bed without a fight. He is content with an audio story on his CD player, no lights, not even a night light. Charlie, on the other hand has just announced that the circus is coming to town and he means it.

I hug him and go in for a kiss. He bounces up with a quick jolt and butts me in the lip with his head. He quickly whips out "I'm sorry Mommy!" and rolls into the wall. I tell him I love him and leave the room. He is out of his bed before I leave the room and as I turn to see what he is doing, he bangs right into me. I bend over to pick him up (without saying a word) and his flailing hands poke me right in the eye. I put him into bed and as his feet are kicking in the air like he is Lance Armstrong in the final stretch and I get once last jab in the gutt. I'm done.

Now, I don't know about you. But by 8:00pm each night, as a busy working Mom of two, I am exhausted. I just don't have it in me to keep it up at this pace. Now, the Super Nanny has helped me in many situations to keep my cool and help me to realize it's not just me. That I CAN do this. I love her show. Even when it's not an identical situation to ours, her techniques have helped me. So I bought her book; 'Supernanny; How to get the best from your Children.'

She talks about consistency. Structure. Routine. Giving notice before each stage of the night time routine. Tonight, I was on a mission. But as my husband was putting him into his bed, I knew it wasn't going well when I saw Charlie zoom passed me, giggling.

It's called "The Staying in Bed Technique" from the Supernanny. The trick is to keep up the persistent battle of getting them back into bed each time they get up. I have to say, I have counted some nights and it went up to around 92 or so before I really just had to give up. He showed no signs of giving in. He thought it was a game. Again, I have no energy for this type of lesson at this hour of the night. Tonight, I tried and tried again. And once again, it was a game to him. He doesn't get out of bed for a reason. He does not cry. He just think it's hysterical that he can run down the hall when he's supposed to be in bed. The sound of those pitter patter feet are not uncommon around here. So, Jo Frost talks about consistency and routine and to keep it up and eventually, they will get it. So part of me says "Sure, keep it up. They'll get it eventually. Will they? Or will they just be 15 years old and just finally say "Ya know, I'm really tired. I think I'll stay in bed tonight." Even now, I think I hear the pitter patter of Charlie-feet after he has been up there for about a 45 minutes already. I really thought he had finally fallen asleep.

So "The Staying in Bed Technique" continues. Out of bed, brought back to bed. Fast feet, arms flailing and down the hall and back to bed he goes. Upside down, right side up, light on, light off, reading a book, back to bed, rolling, thrashing into the wall and onto the floor - pick him up and back in bed he goes. Off the bed, pick him up, back bend, upside down.... and then Supernanny's suggestion of a soft, comforting doll; just one. He decides on Woody instead of Ariel. He snuggles into position, I put on his covers and his eyes close. Moments later, he is asleep. Wish me luck for this continued process of bedtime. I will keep trying!

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Figuring it all out...


Have you ever put your groceries in the back of your car, got home, took them out and emptied all the bags only to realize a week later that there was celery that had fallen out underneath the stroller in the trunk? You knew this because it stunk up the car so badly you thought one of the kids threw up without you realizing it.

I think we all at one time in our lives put something on top of our cars, forgot about it and then drove away. A cup, a bag, your child's breakfast..... sigh....

Have you ever been sitting at your desk, minding your own business, working your little tail off when a co-worker comes into your office and says "I thought you were supposed to be at our other office this morning?" That panic-stricken feeling is unmistakable. YIKES!!!

Have you ever been eating meatball pizza for breakfast in the car on the way to work and watched a meatball roll right off onto the floor and then you cannot find it anywhere!?

We've all had funny things happen to us as human beings or as parents; sometimes, I believe the two are very distinctly different. Anyway, as a Mom, I feel so absent-minded sometimes.

All of the items above have actually happened to me. Now, my preschoolers on the other hand are usually on top of their game. Why I even bother arguing a point with them sometimes is beyond me. They remember details of events and movies like nobody's business. Their sense of smell is even keener than mine. When I was painting one day and I kept thinking to myself how bad the paint smelled, my son walked in and simply asked "Why does it smell like Champlins in here?" (a seafood restaurant we frequent in Rhode Island) His observation was perfect and extremely accurate. Or when he walked into the kitchen and stated as he breezed through; "It smells like pisquetti in here." He was exactly right, I was boiling spaghetti on the stove.

I often wonder what goes through those little tiny minds to make them so precise. (in many cases, not all) It begs the question, why am I constantly on the look out for toys or other objects that they have lost along their journeys in our house. They simply cannot recall where they put that one toy that means the world to them, but somehow lost it in a simple instant.

In any case, I believe their little brains are bigger than mine sometimes. They keep ME in line with getting me dressed in the morning; "Mommy, you forgot your coat....silly Mommy." Getting dinner ready; "Mommy, you forgot to give me a fork....silly Mommy."
Good parenting skills; "Mommy, you told me to be a good boy, so I did."
Or common courtesy; when a story is being told to me and I look away for a second and there is suddenly a pause in the story and I hear "Mommy...why are you not listening to my story?"

The funniest of their wisdom is when they quote movies to other people and relate them to real life situations. There was a day when one of my boys screamed out some crazy gobbly gook word and his big brother looked at him and simply said very calmly; "You are a sad, strange little man, you have my pity. Farewell." (Toy Story)

I guess we could all learn from that lesson and quote movies to other people in our lives. It would take the guess work out of what to say and it sounds smart and well thought out. Maybe I wouldn't feel so absent-minded all the time. Of course, I do not know how well it would have gone over for me in my work situation above to tell my co-worker "Oh, you're right, I WAS supposed to be somewhere else this morning, but... Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." Oh well, it was just a thought.