Bottomless Pits

Yesterday the kids and I were at a friend's house for lunch. She was making them chicken nuggets.

"How many will they eat?" she asked me.

"Whatever," I said.

"No, how many do they need?" she asked again.

"It doesn't matter. Five," I suggested.

"They'll be full with five?" she clarified.

"No," I said. "It doesn't matter. They are always hungry. You could give them two and they'd still be hungry. You could give them 20 and they would still be hungry. I just give them whatever."

They each ended up with much more on their plates than five chicken nuggets. Both of them ate everything on their plates and looked for more.

Today I picked Sam up at Lunch Bunch. The parent volunteer said to me, "I think Sam was very hungry today."

"He always is," I shrugged.

"No," she said, "The other kids barely ate and then ran off to play. Sam sat with his lunch and ate until all of it was gone."

"I'm sure he did," I said.

"He devoured it," she said.

Just then Sam came running with his coat and bookbag. "Mom!" he cried happily. "I am SO hungry!"

The teacher was absolutely shocked. (Seriously, he had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a little cup of diced pears in his lunchbox. Is that really that much food?)

This morning as I was cleaning the kitchen I loaded the dishwasher. Matilda watched me put her snack bowl in and shut the door.

She lost her mind. It was the worst thing that has ever happened to her.

She had already had breakfast and snack. She hadn't even been using that bowl. There was nothing in it. But my daughter was frantic with grief about being separated from her snack bowl.

GOOD GRIEF.

The Heat Is On

Yesterday afternoon the kids and I came home to a chilly house. It was freezing yesterday so I didn't think much of it. I checked the thermostat, which was five degrees cooler than where it was set. I assumed the heater was having to work harder to heat the house and ignored it.

As we got the kids ready for bed I again checked the thermostat. Now it was seven degrees cooler than its set temperature. Hmmm. As I put Matilda in her pajamas I felt the vent in her room. It was blowing cool air. I called to Eric and told him what was going on.

I continued with bedtime - brushing teeth, reading books, turning on night lights - as Eric looked at the furnace. He saw the problem and knew he'd need help. As I am admittedly, cheerfully, worthless with those kinds of things he called his dad. Wally was here in less than 20 minutes. I stayed upstairs and listened to the two of them bumble around down there. There was a fair amount of cursing and Wally made fun of Eric's tools every chance he got.

My mom called and when I mentioned the broken furnace to her she asked, "Does your fireplace still work?" Duh! I hadn't even thought of that. I started planning our night. With the fireplace on, we could all sleep in the living room and stay really warm. We'd move Matilda's crib out...Sam could sleep on the loveseat...Eric and I would share the hide-a-bed. I'd make cinnamon rolls and muffins in the morning to get extra heat from the oven.

The sound of laughing and high-fiving brought me out of my little daydream. I smelled the heat before I felt it - they'd fixed it! Wally stayed for a few more minutes so they could congratulate each other and then he headed home. Eric and I made chocolate milkshakes to celebrate having heat.

Happiness is having a father-in-law like Wally...and realizing that with or without a working furnace, our little family would have been happy and warm.

Don't Mess With Mama

I am endlessly delighted and amused by the ingenious ideas mothers come up with to deal with their children. I have heard stories of Pacifier Fairies, sneaking vegetables into brownies, and flat-out lying about the side effects of medications in order to fool a child into behaving differently.

Last night I met a woman who may surpass Erma Bombeck as my all-time hero. She was talking quite frankly about her two-year-old who sounds like a major challenge. A few months ago this little boy managed to start climbing out of his crib. He'd get his little foot on the top rail and heave himself up and out. This woman and her husband were woken up several times a night by the sound of their son hitting the ground and then scampering off into the hallway.

A lesser woman may have put up with the interrupted sleep and tried to teach the youngster the importance of staying in his bed. Not this mama. She nipped the problem in the bud. She took all of her son's footie pajamas and carefully sewed all of the legs together from crotch to knee, effectively hobbling her son and making it impossible for him to stretch his foot up onto the top of his crib.

I laughed until I cried picturing this little boy with his legs stitched together. Her plan worked for a few weeks. Then her son figured out how to balance his stomach on the top rail, grip the rail with his little hands, and flip his mermaid body right over the top. She'd hear him hit the ground and then run down the hallway - much more slowly, of course, as he had a stride of less than two inches.

He may have won this battle but there's no doubt in my mind that that tired mother is going to win the war.

What Goes Around

I am a firm believer in karma. It's been proven over and over to me that the world gives back what it receives. Negativity breeds negativity; positivity breeds positivity. All a person has to do to be endlessly blessed is 1. bless other lives and 2. give true thanks to God for each blessing. I am always surprised by how very literal the world can be when returning karma.

About a month ago, during one of the really bad snowstorms, Eric and I were outside shoveling after the kids were in bed. We watched a car creep by our house - going uphill - and weren't surprised when it just stopped and sat there with its tires spinning. I had to talk Eric into trudging up the hill to help. We struggled up the sidewalk, carrying our shovels, hoping to be able to help. That man ended up getting out by himself - by actually sliding down the hill on purpose - but I think we got some cosmic points for trying.

A few weeks ago I saw a truck slide down the hill and get stuck right in front of my driveway. Again, the tires were spinning but nothing was happening. I threw on my coat and went outside. I offered to help but the woman said she'd already called a tow truck. I asked her several times to come in and wait in my house but she declined. After the tow truck arrived and started to hook up her truck she (very kindly) came to our door to thank me.

When I left this afternoon to pick Sam up from school I backed down the driveway and got myself stuck in a huge snow pile. It was so stupid - I still can't believe it happened. I tried going forward and backward. I got out a shovel and tried digging out. I called Aldrich and told them I was stuck and didn't know how late I'd be getting Sam. I imagined him sitting in the office, all of his friends gone, wondering where I was.

As I got off the phone a car flew down the hill in front of me. I didn't pay any attention until I saw it go into reverse and shoot back up toward me. A cheerful man called, "Are you stuck?"

"This is so stupid!" I called back.

The random man - who I'd never seen before - hopped out of his car and put on his gloves. He took the shovel from me and started hacking away at the entire snow pile. "You won't be able to go forward," he explained. "I'll clear this out so you can try to roll back." I stood there stupidly as he moved an entire four-foot-high pile of snow. Finally he stopped and I was able to get out. He cheerfully waved goodbye and left. I made it to Aldrich with time to spare.

I honestly would have never gotten out by myself. I would have needed Eric to come help me while poor little Sam waited. Instead the happiest Good Samaritan I've ever met showed up and saved the day. I am so grateful.

1. Bless the lives of others.
2. Give thanks for every blessing.

Superdad

Sam, playing with his cars: I'm a hero! I'm a hero!

Mom: Your car is a hero, Sam? Why is he a hero?

Sam: Because he helps people feel better!

Mom: Does that mean Dad is a hero, too?

Sam: No!

Mom: Why not? He helps people feel better.

Sam, after thinking a moment: Oh, yeah. Yeah, Dad IS a hero.

I've always thought so.

Chairman Of The Board

Well, not quite. But that doesn't mean I'm not really excited.

I've said time and again that I love Sam's school. The more I learn about it, the better it gets. If I had all the time, money, and resources in the world I would build that school and fill it with those teachers.

That's why I was surprised and delighted when I found a letter for me in Sam's cubby inviting me to apply for a position on the Board of Directors. I was nominated by one of Sam's teachers. I applied and thought about nothing else for weeks. I got frustrated by not hearing back. Once I saw the Board president at Wal-Mart and practically tackled her in the organic produce section. I didn't get any information that day. A few weeks later I got her in a headlock outside of Sam's classroom (perhaps an exaggeration) and got a few of my questions answered.

Yesterday morning we (finally!) met to discuss the Board. Two other women and I sat with the Board president and learned all about what they do. Suffice it to say, they do everything. The main board has three committees and there are more sub-committees than I could keep track of. I will be on the Personnel committee which is in charge of taking care of the staff. I will be helping with pay and benefits as well as planning teacher appreciation events, retirement parties, etc. I will also be on sub-committees - probably more than I will be able to keep track of.

I am more excited about this than I have been about anything for a long time. It's the first thing I've done since having these kids that is about ME. I'm being asked for my knowledge? I'm being trusted with the staff's happiness? I'm someone people want to work with? I have value outside of this house??

I am happy, excited, and proud. It feels great.

She's A Monster

This morning I took the kids to the (ONLY!!) indoor play gym in town. We hadn't been there for nearly a year but Sam recognized it right away. He took off and jumped right in to the fun. For the first few minutes Matilda was stunned. I watched her wander from toy to toy. She'd touch a car and then blankly veer off to the blocks.

There is a fairly impressive play structure that is just like any jungle gym on an elementary school playground. Next to it is an entire area for toddlers with tunnels and climbers safely on the floor. I steered Matilda to the toddler area. She laughed when she went through the tunnel but then she was done. She was dead-set on getting on the jungle gym.

I felt sick to my stomach as I followed her. I did NOT want her trying to climb it. I have to make a conscious effort to give my kids room to explore. Matilda found the stairs and started climbing up. Four- and five-year-olds were walking over her. I nervously ran around the structure, trying to block what I judged to be the biggest opening at each level. At the top her little toes were pointed directly at my eyes. She had reached the opening to the tall spiral slide.

She knew exactly what to do. She managed to sit down and tried to scoot herself forward. I took her hand and helped her go down. The second her feet hit the floor she started wailing. Every parent in the place turned to see what was going on. She was crying like she was seriously hurt but I'm her mom and I knew exactly what was happening. She was furious that the slide had ended.

I managed to guide Matilda back to the stairs time and time again. Each time I held my breath as she climbed up, maneuvering her little arms and legs around climbers that Sam won't try, and made her way to the slide. On her third trip down she started to flop onto her stomach and zip down head first. And every single time she was off the slide she screamed and cried like her heart was breaking. I thought she'd start to chill out after the 15th time but she never got over how much she disliked having her fun come to an end.

Matilda, the 13-month-old monster, has conquered the largest slide at the play gym. I'm going to have to find some more activities to keep her happy. Bungee jumping, perhaps?

Bedtime Bliss

Sam was always a pretty good sleeper. I think he would've been great if I hadn't been poking him awake all night to make sure he was breathing. He was a little over a year old when his 6:00 bedtime was established. I knew that was early and I honestly didn't set out to have him in bed at that hour. It's just how it worked out.

I still don't understand the horror people felt when I'd mention Sam's bedtime. I got gasps and looks of disgust. You'd think I was casually describing putting him out in a doghouse for the night instead of just tucking him in earlier than other kids. I got lectures from strangers and mothers suggested books to help him stay up later. But -I wasn't complaining. It worked for us.

By the time Matilda was born Sam's bedtime had been pushed back to 7:00. Yes, still crazy early, but it's when he is tired and starts to fall apart. Matilda wasn't very old when I started putting her down at 8:00. It would be followed by waking up several times but she always went right back to sleep. Again, I don't know how it happened, but her bedtime slowly moved earlier. Now Matilda goes to bed right around 6:30 and Sam is in bed at 7:00.

Picture it - 7:05. The house is quiet and I AM DONE for the day. It's the most beautiful, wonderful, amazing thing in the world. I am not exaggerating - EVERY night they are both sleeping I am shocked and grateful. It happens every night but I'll never get over how incredible it is. At 7:05 I am free to do whatever I want and I will not see my kids again until sometime after 6:00 am.

People can be shocked and judge me as much as they want. I'm the one skipping downstairs with a bowl of ice cream in one hand and the TiVo remote in the other. Bliss, bliss, bliss!

Mommies!

With Sam it was Dinosaur Roar!. If he spotted it, we were reading it. I have such a clear memory of him toddling it over to me in our old basement as I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. One day (as I have made it clear, I was quite mad) I waited for him to take a nap and I shoved it in the very back of our filing cabinet. Yep, I took away my baby's favorite book because I couldn't bear the thought of reading it one more time.

I'm overjoyed to report that Matilda seems to love books as much as Sam and I do. I am less excited about her new obsession with her favorite book, Mommies!. Grandma Barb sent it for Matilda's Halloween present in lieu of candy. I would have never, ever bought that book...so of course it is my daughter's favorite.

From memory, I will recite the entire text of the book:

Shower shower Mommy. Flower power baby!
Shoe shoe Mommy. Peekaboo baby!
Dig dig Mommy. Big big baby!
Giggle giggle Mommy. Wiggle wiggle baby!
Bubble bubble Mommy. Double trouble babies!
Book book Mommy. Look look baby!

Kill me now. What does that even mean?! I think this one is getting a filing cabinet vacation...

That's My Girl

Indifferent. Confident. Relaxed. Matilda.

(Thanks for capturing my girl, Megan!)