In light of the fact that my memory seems to be rapidly disintegrating, I thought I ought to write down Juliette's birth story before it is forgotten.
Juliette was due on the 27th of January. Both of my other two babies were late and I didn't go into labor with either one. Annalise was induced nine days after my due date. And with Zachary, they broke my water five days after my due date because I was six centimeters dilated but not in labor. So we assumed that baby number three would take a similar course. But long before we were even pregnant, Jason and I had bought 1.20.09 shirts from the Bush's Last Day shop. With Juliette's due date so close to the inauguration, we joked about how awesome it would be to have a baby on that day. But in actuality, we thought it would never happen. (And if by chance this baby was early, it would be before that -- just to stick it to us that we would have THREE Bush babies. Ugh.)
When I was seven or eight months along, our doctor was a little concerned that the baby wasn't growing well, so he put me on a kind of a modified bed rest. I had to lay down at least 2-3 hours during the day (because that's easy with two other kids) and eat as much as I could. Fortunately, it worked and the baby showed some significant growth after a month. With a little over a week to go before my due date, our doctor was convinced that the baby was a good size and gave me the go ahead to resume my activities. Of course the next day I did four hours of gardening. (It was a lot after almost two months on my butt.) And did I mention how hot it was? All my kids were born when it was freakishly hot, so I should have known that a heat wave in January was a sure sign that a baby was coming.
The night of Monday, the 19th I started feeling contractions. I knew that I had a long way to go because on Friday I had only been one centimeter dilated. So I tried to read and then I took a bath. At some point I woke Jason up and packed my bag. After the bath, it became clear that my water had broken. After some discussion, we decided it was time to call my mom. Since Zachary had come so quickly, we didn't know how much time we'd have. My mom came over at about three in the morning to stay with the kids. Jason and I headed off to the hospital alone. This would be our first delivery without any other support staff. My mom had been at both births and my friend Jenn was with us when Annalise was born and Sarah was with us for Zachary's birth.
At the hospital they determined that my water had indeed broken but that my contractions weren't doing enough quickly enough for my doctor's taste. He wanted to put me on Pitocin. Now Pitocin and I have met before. Pitocin was in the house during Annalise's delivery. I know Pitocin and Pitocin is not my friend. I had really wanted to go all natural like I had with Zachary, but the idea of many more hours of Pitocin contractions and I was ready for an epidural. It was actually a really easy decision. So around six in the morning, I got my Pitocin and sometime after seven I got my epidural. In the meantime, we were able to relax and watch the inauguration. By this time, it was clear that we were indeed going to have a baby on 1.20.09. Unbelievable. We just hoped the baby would hold out a little longer so that she or he would be an Obama baby.
Watching the inauguration while in labor was a really surreal experience. We were watching what we thought was one of the most significant historical events to happen in our lifetime. And at the same time, on a personal level, we were having one of the most significant events of our lives. In short, it was amazing.
Our labor and delivery nurse stayed in our room all morning. Jason and I watched the whole inauguration with her. Right around the time that Biden was sworn in, she checked me and I was ready to push. She paged our doctor and was surprised to find out he had never left the hospital. We thought he would be right there and were pondering having a baby born while Biden was vice president but Bush was still president. Fortunately our doctor took his sweet time. (It turns out he was watching the inauguration in the doctor's lounge. He didn't want to miss it. Of course he had no idea we were watching it, too. It's a good thing I'd had that epidural and could hold off on the pushing for a bit!) Obama was sworn in, our doctor finally arrived and we started pushing. (In between pushes he would turn around and watch the TV!) During the singing of the national anthem, at 9:35 in the morning, Juliette was born. It was one of the coolest moments of my life. I was so glad I'd had the epidural because I was able to relax and enjoy her birth and the inauguration. I was so present in the moment. Her birthday will be celebrated by so many people. It really is the best birthday ever. I even have the t-shirt to prove it!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Memories, or Lack There Of
On Saturday, Annalise woke up with a fever in the middle of the night. So I gave her some Tylenol and got into bed with her until her fever dropped and she finally fell back asleep. While we were lying there, she asked me to tell her stories of when I was a little kid. Most of the stories I have to tell she's heard again and again. I'm running out of stories and I don't know if that's because I just don't remember or because my life was really pretty boring and there's really not much worth remembering. Still I was able to come up with enough to keep her distracted and amused.
In the meantime, I started to worry because I am starting to forget what my own kids were like as babies. I have very specific memories of them as they got a little older -- ten months or so and up. But before that, I have these vague recollections of a lot of crying (not just me) and walking and walking and walking and nursing and nursing and nursing. I do have some memories, but stories, not so much. Is it just because in the long run they all kind of do the same thing at roughly the same age and in retrospect it's really not all that intgeresting? I don't know. This concept seems so weird for me, too, since we are enjoying Juliette so much right now. Why wouldn't I want to remember this? So I'm going to try to take pictures in my head of her as she dances with that goofy smile, showing her little dimple. I'll try to remember how much she loves Cheerios and how she does some weird sucking thing when she eats something a little sour. (See, already forgotten what the sour thing was. Just remember the face.) I'll remember how much she loves to wrestle with her brother and giggles that beautiful baby giggle. I won't forget how she used to look up at the pictures of Paris and Venice above her changing table and dream of European vacations. I won't forget that for one week she stuck her tongue out so far she looked like a frog. I won't forget how happy to she is to see the people she loves walk throught the door. I promise, Juliette, who is waking up as I write, I won't forget...
In the meantime, I started to worry because I am starting to forget what my own kids were like as babies. I have very specific memories of them as they got a little older -- ten months or so and up. But before that, I have these vague recollections of a lot of crying (not just me) and walking and walking and walking and nursing and nursing and nursing. I do have some memories, but stories, not so much. Is it just because in the long run they all kind of do the same thing at roughly the same age and in retrospect it's really not all that intgeresting? I don't know. This concept seems so weird for me, too, since we are enjoying Juliette so much right now. Why wouldn't I want to remember this? So I'm going to try to take pictures in my head of her as she dances with that goofy smile, showing her little dimple. I'll try to remember how much she loves Cheerios and how she does some weird sucking thing when she eats something a little sour. (See, already forgotten what the sour thing was. Just remember the face.) I'll remember how much she loves to wrestle with her brother and giggles that beautiful baby giggle. I won't forget how she used to look up at the pictures of Paris and Venice above her changing table and dream of European vacations. I won't forget that for one week she stuck her tongue out so far she looked like a frog. I won't forget how happy to she is to see the people she loves walk throught the door. I promise, Juliette, who is waking up as I write, I won't forget...
Friday, October 9, 2009
Treasure Hunt Party
This weekend we had Annalise's seventh birthday party. According to her, it was, "the best day EVER!!" We did have a great time. Did I mention before that she wanted to have a rock star party? I thought this was a great idea; we could do karaoke. All well and good except that half of her friends can't READ! So the rock star party was out. Somehow we ended up on the idea for a treasure hunt. Here's what we did:
Invitations: For invitations, I always have a picture of the birthday kid. For this one, we "hid" Annalise in the plants with her binoculars. The invitations read, "A treasure is hiding somewhere on our street. Where could it be? The puzzle's incomplete..." And a word to the wise about inviting kids to a party in September -- they all come. Not so in July, but in September, if you want 15 kids, then only invite 15 kids.
Preparations: This party had a lot of prep work before the kids got there. I divided the kids into 5 teams (4-5 kids per team, plus one team of 6 younger siblings). I wanted to divide the teams so that everyone knew at least one kid in their group. This meant the groups changed a bit as I got RSVPs. Then I mapped out where each group would go. It took some cross checking to make sure that the groups were spread out across the neighborhood and not all on top of each other. For the clues, I took pictures around the neighborhood, plus in our front and back yards. (I got the neighbors' permission first.) Then Jason printed them out onto cardstock and I wrote the address where that picture was taken on the clue. Then I cut them up and placed them in numbered envelopes, color coordinated with each team's color. (If you're doing this yourself, make sure you label each envelope with a post it saying where each clue is to be hidden.) Before everyone got there, I ran around the neighborhood hiding clues. (Another time saving hint -- group them by address so you can do them all at once.) This sounds kind of complicated, but it was actually pretty easy.
Activities: For a "craft" and something to do while waiting for all the kids to come, we decorated t-shirts. I had divided the kids (18 big kids and 6 younger siblings) into 5 groups. I ordered t-shirts online for just over $2 a piece. Each group was a different color and decorated a t-shirt in their color. (We used fabric markers and ribbons.) It was amazing what the kids came up with to decorate their shirts. One kid drew an awesome pirate. Lots of the girls made belts out of the ribbon.
When everyone was there and had decorated their shirts, I called all the kids inside for "rules:" things like you have to find all ten clues; don't take a clue that isn't your color, etc. Plus I showed them what they would be looking for and what their clues would look like all put together. (Meanwhile, Jason hid the front yard clues.) They got into their groups and introduced themselves to each other. Once again I had my incredible tutoring kids come to help; one kid per group. Then I gave them their first clue and they were off. It was great to watch them all working together to put together their puzzles and then running all over the neighborhood in their matching t-shirts.
The treasure boxes Jason hid at a point when all the kids were out of the backyard. (We have a hill in our backyard, and he hid all 5 boxes up there.) For the boxes, I found smallish used cardboard boxes at Ralph's market that were ready to be recycled. They were happy to let me have them. Then Zachary and I painted them each the five different colors with tempra paints. We filled them with goodies from Target. Each kid got a Halloween pencil and eraser, some gummy Lifesavers and a pack of gum. Also, I found those punch balloons, so they each got one of those. But the big hit were these balloon launchers. Each pack came with a pump and 20 balloons that blew up to be about three feet long.
When the hunt was over and we had sung happy birthday, we still had some time to kill. So the kids all took their balloon launchers into the street and launched balloons way up into the air. I was nervous about having time left over, but they were all having a great time playing with their balloons, so it actually turned out to be great.
Food: All we did was water bottles, pretzels and popcorn. (I find that kids are generally too busy to eat much at parties and I can't stand the waste.) For cupcakes, we frosted them with either chocolate or vanilla frosting and then put frosting polka dots in our five colors.
This party was soooo much fun. I think all the kids had a blast. And, aside from what went into the treasure boxes (which really could be as simple as you wanted), it was pretty inexpensive. I did no decorations, and used regular table cloths instead of the cheap plastic ones. And since the party was in the middle of the afternoon, I didn't feel like I needed to provide a whole lot of food. Also, since most of the set up was in making the clues, we didn't have a whole lot we had to do the day of the party. (In fact, Jason and Annalise were gone at soccer for most of the morning.) It was totally age appropriate and lots of fun!
Invitations: For invitations, I always have a picture of the birthday kid. For this one, we "hid" Annalise in the plants with her binoculars. The invitations read, "A treasure is hiding somewhere on our street. Where could it be? The puzzle's incomplete..." And a word to the wise about inviting kids to a party in September -- they all come. Not so in July, but in September, if you want 15 kids, then only invite 15 kids.
Preparations: This party had a lot of prep work before the kids got there. I divided the kids into 5 teams (4-5 kids per team, plus one team of 6 younger siblings). I wanted to divide the teams so that everyone knew at least one kid in their group. This meant the groups changed a bit as I got RSVPs. Then I mapped out where each group would go. It took some cross checking to make sure that the groups were spread out across the neighborhood and not all on top of each other. For the clues, I took pictures around the neighborhood, plus in our front and back yards. (I got the neighbors' permission first.) Then Jason printed them out onto cardstock and I wrote the address where that picture was taken on the clue. Then I cut them up and placed them in numbered envelopes, color coordinated with each team's color. (If you're doing this yourself, make sure you label each envelope with a post it saying where each clue is to be hidden.) Before everyone got there, I ran around the neighborhood hiding clues. (Another time saving hint -- group them by address so you can do them all at once.) This sounds kind of complicated, but it was actually pretty easy.
Activities: For a "craft" and something to do while waiting for all the kids to come, we decorated t-shirts. I had divided the kids (18 big kids and 6 younger siblings) into 5 groups. I ordered t-shirts online for just over $2 a piece. Each group was a different color and decorated a t-shirt in their color. (We used fabric markers and ribbons.) It was amazing what the kids came up with to decorate their shirts. One kid drew an awesome pirate. Lots of the girls made belts out of the ribbon.
When everyone was there and had decorated their shirts, I called all the kids inside for "rules:" things like you have to find all ten clues; don't take a clue that isn't your color, etc. Plus I showed them what they would be looking for and what their clues would look like all put together. (Meanwhile, Jason hid the front yard clues.) They got into their groups and introduced themselves to each other. Once again I had my incredible tutoring kids come to help; one kid per group. Then I gave them their first clue and they were off. It was great to watch them all working together to put together their puzzles and then running all over the neighborhood in their matching t-shirts.
The treasure boxes Jason hid at a point when all the kids were out of the backyard. (We have a hill in our backyard, and he hid all 5 boxes up there.) For the boxes, I found smallish used cardboard boxes at Ralph's market that were ready to be recycled. They were happy to let me have them. Then Zachary and I painted them each the five different colors with tempra paints. We filled them with goodies from Target. Each kid got a Halloween pencil and eraser, some gummy Lifesavers and a pack of gum. Also, I found those punch balloons, so they each got one of those. But the big hit were these balloon launchers. Each pack came with a pump and 20 balloons that blew up to be about three feet long.
When the hunt was over and we had sung happy birthday, we still had some time to kill. So the kids all took their balloon launchers into the street and launched balloons way up into the air. I was nervous about having time left over, but they were all having a great time playing with their balloons, so it actually turned out to be great.
Food: All we did was water bottles, pretzels and popcorn. (I find that kids are generally too busy to eat much at parties and I can't stand the waste.) For cupcakes, we frosted them with either chocolate or vanilla frosting and then put frosting polka dots in our five colors.
This party was soooo much fun. I think all the kids had a blast. And, aside from what went into the treasure boxes (which really could be as simple as you wanted), it was pretty inexpensive. I did no decorations, and used regular table cloths instead of the cheap plastic ones. And since the party was in the middle of the afternoon, I didn't feel like I needed to provide a whole lot of food. Also, since most of the set up was in making the clues, we didn't have a whole lot we had to do the day of the party. (In fact, Jason and Annalise were gone at soccer for most of the morning.) It was totally age appropriate and lots of fun!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
My Guys
The other night, around 1:00, our door was flung open, then closed, and a small, wordless boy climbed up into our bed, snuggled down in between us, pulled the covers up over his head and went to sleep. I put one arm around him, resting my hand on his father's back. I grew up in a house of boys. I have two brothers and a dad, so my mom and I were the only girls. We have the opposite situation in our house. I always dreamed of having a sister, and now my girls have each other. How lucky. I wonder how this dynamic will work itself out in our home. Will it make Jason and Zachary closer? Will I spoil Zachy even more since he is my only boy? I don't know. But in the middle of the night, I felt so lucky to have my two guys. The little one had (apparently) had a bad dream or maybe just felt lonely. The big one was sound asleep and didn't even know we had company. The little one had been earlier basking in the glory of his first soccer game, so proud that every time he kicked the ball, he gave us a double thumbs up. The big one had been a willing participant in a soccer drill that involved being pelted by a dozen four year old boys kicking their soccer balls at him. The little one had been disappointed by a half-hearted visit with his grandparents that weekend. The older one was used to the disappointment, but now had to deal with hearing about it from me. The younger one dreamed of Lightning McQueen and Star Wars toys. The older one dreamed of paying off a mortgage. They are so different, these two guys, but are bonded because and in spite of this. Their relationship is often tumultuous, but it is full of love. We may have a very rocky road ahead of us with our little man. But for now, nothing makes me prouder and happier than the sight of my two guys, hand in hand.
Monday, September 28, 2009
Seven
Seven years ago, I went on the most harrowing ride of my life. It was scarier than the first time I drove out to Palm Springs, with only my learner's permit, the wind whipping the car around. It was scarier than the time our family escaped "the biggest storm in 20 years" in Boston, slip sliding up the hill to make it back to my aunt's house in New Jersey in time for Christmas. And it was scarier than the snow storm Jason and I drove through in the middle of the night on our way to Colorado, me hanging my head out the window to see the white line, the only way we knew we were still on the road. Seven years ago, we put one tiny baby into a Graco carseat (checked and properly installed by the CHP) and drove her home. We did not go on the freeway. We did not drive anywhere close to the speed limit. And we had somehow talked my mom into following us home. We had been unsuccessful in talking the nurses into joining us. I sat in the backseat, staring at the beautiful, terrifying, mysterious and loud creature next to me. I was scared out of my mind.
To this day, I do not understand why they let us take that little thing home from the hospital. She was so fragile and helpless. And we had NO CLUE what we were doing. Sure, we had taken every class possible. We knew how to nurse a plastic doll and perform CPR on a dummy. Sure, we had read every book on parenting (a practice I would NOT recommend). I knew that the baby's life should revolve around mine and not the other way around (yeah right) and that I should never let a baby nurse to sleep (um, had that author ever actually interacted with a baby?). But a real life baby, we had come to find out in our two short days in the hospital, was a completely different animal. This little being followed her own rules. We had no idea what those rules were and how to handle them. We knew we were completely in over our heads. I have the picture of myself, about to get into the car, to prove it. I am wearing the face of someone about to walk the plank.
For some reason they did let us take her home, and thank God they did. It took us a while, okay a long while, to figure out Miss Annalise. It took us quite a few more car rides as well, mostly in the middle of the night, with at least two, if not three, of us crying. It took us throwing out most of our parenting books. It took us listening to other parents, both seasoned and brand new. And mostly it took us listening to our hearts. Annalise was not an easy baby; far from it. She did not fit into any mold. She did not fit into our lifestyle; she did not fall asleep on her own. Of course she changed our lifestyle. Isn't that the whole point of parenthood? If I had wanted my life to stay the same, I would never have gotten pregnant to begin with. Annalise made our lives messy. She made things difficult. She made us tired. And cranky. She made my breasts swell and bleed. She spit up on everything, all day long. She cried. A LOT. She made us question every decision we ever made. But she was worth it; all of it. For soon after she arrived at our house, she cuddled with us. She would hold our fingers in her tiny, little hand. And soon after that she was smiling; then giggling; playing peek-a-boo. And the next thing we knew, she was pointing out accessories: "Hat." "Shoes." And then she was running in new shoes, falling down and scraping her knees. She was analyzing the different types of shirt sleeves: "Spaghetti straps." "Cap sleeves." (I know, the fashion thing is interesting. We think she gets it because Auntie Jenn was in the delivery room. She certainly doesn't get it from me!)
Somehow along the way, we learned to throw out the rules. We learned to listen to our hearts and listen to our child. She has grown into a smart and capable first grader. She frustrates the hell out of us sometimes (still). But mostly she amazes us. She is creative and imaginative. She has her own sense of style (obviously). She is kind and giving. She is goofy and beautiful. She sets up a play store called "Kid stuff for way less than you would believe" in our living room. And she sends e-mail to her Grandma, on vacation in Italy, because she misses her. She still wants to cuddle first thing in the morning. Her four-year-old brother is her best friend. She rocks out to Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift. She is trying to be independent. She wants us to drop her off at school instead of walking her to her classroom. But she wants to sit on my lap at "Eat lunch with your child day." She curls up in a chair and reads chapter books in her head.
I'm still trying to figure Annalise out somedays. Somedays I just don't get her at all. She still makes our lives messy (both literally and figuratively). She still cries a lot. But she hardly ever spits up anymore. And often she's actually able to tell us what's bothering her. She's our first born baby; our experiment. We've made a lot of mistakes along the way, but in the long run, so far, I don't know how, but we have really gotten it right.
To this day, I do not understand why they let us take that little thing home from the hospital. She was so fragile and helpless. And we had NO CLUE what we were doing. Sure, we had taken every class possible. We knew how to nurse a plastic doll and perform CPR on a dummy. Sure, we had read every book on parenting (a practice I would NOT recommend). I knew that the baby's life should revolve around mine and not the other way around (yeah right) and that I should never let a baby nurse to sleep (um, had that author ever actually interacted with a baby?). But a real life baby, we had come to find out in our two short days in the hospital, was a completely different animal. This little being followed her own rules. We had no idea what those rules were and how to handle them. We knew we were completely in over our heads. I have the picture of myself, about to get into the car, to prove it. I am wearing the face of someone about to walk the plank.
For some reason they did let us take her home, and thank God they did. It took us a while, okay a long while, to figure out Miss Annalise. It took us quite a few more car rides as well, mostly in the middle of the night, with at least two, if not three, of us crying. It took us throwing out most of our parenting books. It took us listening to other parents, both seasoned and brand new. And mostly it took us listening to our hearts. Annalise was not an easy baby; far from it. She did not fit into any mold. She did not fit into our lifestyle; she did not fall asleep on her own. Of course she changed our lifestyle. Isn't that the whole point of parenthood? If I had wanted my life to stay the same, I would never have gotten pregnant to begin with. Annalise made our lives messy. She made things difficult. She made us tired. And cranky. She made my breasts swell and bleed. She spit up on everything, all day long. She cried. A LOT. She made us question every decision we ever made. But she was worth it; all of it. For soon after she arrived at our house, she cuddled with us. She would hold our fingers in her tiny, little hand. And soon after that she was smiling; then giggling; playing peek-a-boo. And the next thing we knew, she was pointing out accessories: "Hat." "Shoes." And then she was running in new shoes, falling down and scraping her knees. She was analyzing the different types of shirt sleeves: "Spaghetti straps." "Cap sleeves." (I know, the fashion thing is interesting. We think she gets it because Auntie Jenn was in the delivery room. She certainly doesn't get it from me!)
Somehow along the way, we learned to throw out the rules. We learned to listen to our hearts and listen to our child. She has grown into a smart and capable first grader. She frustrates the hell out of us sometimes (still). But mostly she amazes us. She is creative and imaginative. She has her own sense of style (obviously). She is kind and giving. She is goofy and beautiful. She sets up a play store called "Kid stuff for way less than you would believe" in our living room. And she sends e-mail to her Grandma, on vacation in Italy, because she misses her. She still wants to cuddle first thing in the morning. Her four-year-old brother is her best friend. She rocks out to Miley Cyrus and Taylor Swift. She is trying to be independent. She wants us to drop her off at school instead of walking her to her classroom. But she wants to sit on my lap at "Eat lunch with your child day." She curls up in a chair and reads chapter books in her head.
I'm still trying to figure Annalise out somedays. Somedays I just don't get her at all. She still makes our lives messy (both literally and figuratively). She still cries a lot. But she hardly ever spits up anymore. And often she's actually able to tell us what's bothering her. She's our first born baby; our experiment. We've made a lot of mistakes along the way, but in the long run, so far, I don't know how, but we have really gotten it right.
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Ungrateful
Yesterday was one of those days that just grrrr!!!!! It was bad. I know I just wrote a post about keeping perspective, but sometimes you have to bitch a little bit, too. Anyway, we have ants, the water heater isn't heating water, we have tons of bills to pay and not tons of money with which to pay them. I had a million things to do AND my mom (babysitter/lifesaver/person I complain to) left today for three weeks. Anyway, it started off as one of those days. And I was wearing my sweatpants, which actually are Jenn's hand-me-down yoga pants from when she was pregnant and just post-pregnant. And for those of you who saw me every day last year, you know I wore them every other day last year. Now a few more things actually fit in my wardrobe, so I am trying to disguise myself as an adult. Today I am actually wearing a skirt (a nice one that has to be ironed). But yesterday it was sweats and you know how that doesn't really help the whole attitude. So I was already on the edge.
So after we ran a bunch of errands that required Zachary and Juliette to be in the car for almost two hours, we had to pick Annalise up from school, zip over to South Pasadena to buy Annalise both new ballet and tap shoes and then get back to La Canada in time for her dance lesson. (Basically this meant almost another hour in the car for the little ones who, miraculously, weren't complaining at all.) We were half way to the shoe store when I told Annalise that we probably would not have enough time to go home and change before class, so she would just have to wear her dress and leggings that she wore to school. She proceeded to have an enormous fit (with tears) and would not let it go. So of course, I overreacted as well, turned the car around, yelled about how ungrateful she was, drove home, screamed at her to change her clothes, changed Juliette's diaper, threw everyone back in the car, yelled some more, got the shoes (Thankfully I had my checkbook since in all the yelling I had left my wallet at home.), and took her to dance class fifteen minutes late.
I was so upset I didn't know what to do. Jason said he was surprised I had taken her to the class at all and that I had bought the shoes, too. Truthfully, I wouldn't have done either except that I had already paid for the class AND given away her too small shoes.
Sometimes I get so frustrated with my children. I feel like I've done a good job at teaching them to be grateful for what they have. And then they turn around and have this real sense of entitlement. Where does that come from? Do I give them too much? Do I need to start cutting back on things? I really don't feel like I have spoiled them, but maybe I'm just naive. Maybe I have. Is it just an age thing? Are all seven year olds self centered? Do they all really only care about themselves? Annalise has always done a great job of showing empathy. When someone is hurt, she's great at taking care of them. When they're feelings are hurt, she will be the one who plays with them. But she didn't seem to show any care at all that her brother and sister were being carted all around town. She wanted her shoes. She wanted her ballet outfit and she didn't care who had to suffer in the meantime. I don't know what to do to teach them better that they can't always have everything they want and they can't always have things when they want them. I hope these lessons will come with age. I didn't handle the situation well yesterday, but I hope I don't have to handle the same kind of situation too much in the future either. Maybe next time I'll have a cooler head. Maybe nest time the kids will be a little more grateful. We'll see.
So after we ran a bunch of errands that required Zachary and Juliette to be in the car for almost two hours, we had to pick Annalise up from school, zip over to South Pasadena to buy Annalise both new ballet and tap shoes and then get back to La Canada in time for her dance lesson. (Basically this meant almost another hour in the car for the little ones who, miraculously, weren't complaining at all.) We were half way to the shoe store when I told Annalise that we probably would not have enough time to go home and change before class, so she would just have to wear her dress and leggings that she wore to school. She proceeded to have an enormous fit (with tears) and would not let it go. So of course, I overreacted as well, turned the car around, yelled about how ungrateful she was, drove home, screamed at her to change her clothes, changed Juliette's diaper, threw everyone back in the car, yelled some more, got the shoes (Thankfully I had my checkbook since in all the yelling I had left my wallet at home.), and took her to dance class fifteen minutes late.
I was so upset I didn't know what to do. Jason said he was surprised I had taken her to the class at all and that I had bought the shoes, too. Truthfully, I wouldn't have done either except that I had already paid for the class AND given away her too small shoes.
Sometimes I get so frustrated with my children. I feel like I've done a good job at teaching them to be grateful for what they have. And then they turn around and have this real sense of entitlement. Where does that come from? Do I give them too much? Do I need to start cutting back on things? I really don't feel like I have spoiled them, but maybe I'm just naive. Maybe I have. Is it just an age thing? Are all seven year olds self centered? Do they all really only care about themselves? Annalise has always done a great job of showing empathy. When someone is hurt, she's great at taking care of them. When they're feelings are hurt, she will be the one who plays with them. But she didn't seem to show any care at all that her brother and sister were being carted all around town. She wanted her shoes. She wanted her ballet outfit and she didn't care who had to suffer in the meantime. I don't know what to do to teach them better that they can't always have everything they want and they can't always have things when they want them. I hope these lessons will come with age. I didn't handle the situation well yesterday, but I hope I don't have to handle the same kind of situation too much in the future either. Maybe next time I'll have a cooler head. Maybe nest time the kids will be a little more grateful. We'll see.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Born Ambitious
When Juliette was born, my friend, Jenn, gave her a onesie that reads, "Capricorn. Born ambitious. Loves to organize." We think it is hilarious. I mostly just love the picture in my head of a very small baby organizing. "Mommy, please sort my short sleeve onesies separate from my long sleeve onesies. And really, do we need all these bath toys? Couldn't we find a better place to store these?" Someday I expect to walk into the room and find her organizing the Tupperware. Maybe that's why she makes a bee line for the cabinets whenever someone opens a door. Hmmm... Maybe a little experiment is in order. Okay, so maybe she's not ready for it quite yet, but I'm really hoping that there is some truth to that onesie. I could really use some organizational help.
One thing we know for sure IS true is that she was born ambitious. All three of my kids have been a little ahead of the game on all things baby. Both Annalise and Zachary got their teeth early; they moved early; they talked early. Juliette still has no teeth, but she takes the cake for moving early. The kid was one week old when she rolled over for the first time. She could not sit upright on her own before she could get herself into a seated position. She's been "crawling" (I'll explain in a minute.) for a couple months now. And she has been standing and cruising for almost a month. Tell me, what is the use of a seven month old cruising??? The problem with all her ambition is that she's not really very good at any of this. She crawls like a simian, with feet flat on the ground. (This is the first kid we've had who didn't have to crawl only on hard wood floors, and this is the one who lifts her knees up off the ground!?) And then there's the pulling up on the furniture and cruising thing. She's really too short to pull herself up on most things. So as a result, the kid is constantly bumping her head on tables or otherwise falling in dramatic fashion, with a full spin and a flourish, looking up with a bewildered expression on her face. She is so much fun to watch; that determined face, sucking in her lower lip, her fingers gripping tight. And she's such a show off, too. She gets into the stand, does a little dance, then lets go with one hand to wave and attract a crowd. Sometimes she'll give herself a little shout out, too. She's ambitious, that puny little thing. We can't wait to see what she'll do next!
One thing we know for sure IS true is that she was born ambitious. All three of my kids have been a little ahead of the game on all things baby. Both Annalise and Zachary got their teeth early; they moved early; they talked early. Juliette still has no teeth, but she takes the cake for moving early. The kid was one week old when she rolled over for the first time. She could not sit upright on her own before she could get herself into a seated position. She's been "crawling" (I'll explain in a minute.) for a couple months now. And she has been standing and cruising for almost a month. Tell me, what is the use of a seven month old cruising??? The problem with all her ambition is that she's not really very good at any of this. She crawls like a simian, with feet flat on the ground. (This is the first kid we've had who didn't have to crawl only on hard wood floors, and this is the one who lifts her knees up off the ground!?) And then there's the pulling up on the furniture and cruising thing. She's really too short to pull herself up on most things. So as a result, the kid is constantly bumping her head on tables or otherwise falling in dramatic fashion, with a full spin and a flourish, looking up with a bewildered expression on her face. She is so much fun to watch; that determined face, sucking in her lower lip, her fingers gripping tight. And she's such a show off, too. She gets into the stand, does a little dance, then lets go with one hand to wave and attract a crowd. Sometimes she'll give herself a little shout out, too. She's ambitious, that puny little thing. We can't wait to see what she'll do next!
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