How is it that my boys already know how to push each other's buttons? They both have managed to figure out what bothers the other one, what will bring the other one to the point of tears. And they use it.
Just today, the boys were playing out in the yard when I heard Jem start screaming for me. I ran out to see what was going on. Jem was standing in the yard. Truett was standing twenty feet away from him holding up a stick that had fallen from our willow tree. It's true that the stick was a good seven feet long and it's also true that Truett has been known to hit Jem. However, the circumference of the stick was about the size of a dandelion stem and Tru was nowhere near Jem. But Jem was convinced that Tru was going to hit him and he continued to scream and cry until I just told him to come inside.
This entire scenario plays out pretty much anytime Tru raises anything over his head. They could be two rooms apart and Jem will still start to scream and cry. And now, Tru does it just to get to Jemmy. He knows what happens, so he will simply stand in the living room and lift his toy sword over his head, and Jem will start to scream.
And it goes both ways. When Truett asks me questions, Jem likes to contradict my answer. I will tell Truett that we can go to the park or that he can have a banana and Jem will say, "No you can't." And they will argue back and forth until eventually Tru ends up crying. At that point, he will finally turn to me and say "Jemmy said ...". And I have to remind him that it doesn't matter what Jem says because he isn't in charge. But again, I know that Jem does it because he knows the type of reaction it will bring out in Tru.
I'm amazed that it starts so young. What is it inside of people that we sometimes enjoy hurting others? Is it just that we like the feeling of wielding power over them? My brother and I were the same way growing up. You can bet I knew exactly what hurt him, exactly what humiliated him. And I did it plenty of times. Sometimes it was simply teasing and other times it was meant to hurt. And he did the same to me. I don't want my boys to be that way. I want them to be careful with other people and especially with each other. And just like with their good behavior, I see glimpses of them taking care of each other and loving each other. Now I just have to figure out how to turn the glimpses into something more permanent. Or maybe I should say that God will have to figure that one out since I'm not working with the best track record myself.
photo by Jane M.
http://www.flickr.com/photos/simplehearted/2404868566/
Today, after Truett went up for his nap, Jem followed me into the sunroom as I went in to change Caia. Earlier, the boys had dumped over a basket that is filled with their gloves, scarves and winter hats. Needless to say, things were scattered all over the room. As we walked in Jem looked around and said, "Mommy, this place is a mess." I agreed and said that someone would need to pick it up. And he said, "I'll do it." And then set about picking up every single mitten, every hat, every glove and putting them away. I am pretty sure that is the first time that my son has ever volunteered to clean up a mess. Sure, he asks to help me vacuum or wipe off the table but those are novelties. He sees that as "grown-up" stuff that he is eager to try. But simply picking up a mess and putting it away? That's normal, everyday stuff. I was blown away and thanked him profusely and told him what a great job he did.
I'm starting to realize that parenting is similar to golf. Well, at least golf for those of us who are less than stellar at it. You hit bad shot after bad shot after bad shot. And just when you are ready to give it up, you hit this beautiful arcing shot that lands two feet from the pin. Just that one perfect shot is enough to keep you pushing through the bad shots. You know it's in there, that it's possible so you keep trying.
It's the same with discipline. I try to stay on top of them for disobedience, poor attitudes, and mean behavior. I try to teach them to serve others and to be responsible. And most of the time it seems like it goes in one ear and out the other. But then there are those moments...the apology that wasn't coaxed out of them, the unasked for completion of a chore, the unsolicited "I love you". Those moments keep me going. Although I hope that my parenting shows more improvement than my golf game.
photo by Espen Lodden
http://www.flickr.com/photos/espenlodden/281287175/
Sometimes I ask Sam to stop on his way home from work and pick something up. It is rare that he forgets and when he does it usually isn't a big deal. We adapt and switch the dinner plans to hot dogs or frozen pizza. But last week, he forgot and it was kind of a big deal.
The weekend before he had pulled a bag of Doritos out of our pantry, exclaiming, "Yes! This is what I was looking for." I had just bought them that morning so that I could make taco salad later in the week. I know how hard it is to stop eating them after you start so I asked (maybe I ordered) him to stop and put them back. He continued to open the bag, assuring me that he would go out and buy more that very day. Yeah, that didn't happen. Saturday passed. Sunday passed. And suddenly it was Monday and I needed to make the salad before my tomatoes weren't usable. Sam promised that he would stop on the way home and pick up a bag of Doritos.
And when he came in the door empty-handed, I didn't say anything. He realized it when he walked into the kitchen and saw the huge bowl of salad all ready to go. I was frustrated that he had eaten them when I asked him not to but I was ready to go with the flow. He apologized for forgetting and I told him that it was okay and that was why I had asked him not to eat them in the first place. And to this he responded by saying, "But I thought you had two bags." And that is when going with the flow went right out the window. Why would I ask/order him to stop eating them if I had a back-up bag? Why would I ask him to stop on the way home and get some if I had a back-up bag? Why?
Shortly after that conversation he left for a class at our church. And I sat at home feeling unheard and frustrated.
It is rare that Sam and I have arguments but it happens, just like it happens for every couple. And most of the time, it stems from some sort of miscommunication. He says one thing and I hear another. Or I tell him something and he forgets. Or I let out my breath and huff rather than telling him what's on my mind. In this case, to him, it was just a bag of Doritos, but to me, it was more than that. And I'm pretty sure he picked up on that because when he came home he apologized again.
It will happen again. It hopefully won't involve Doritos but it will happen. And it's okay, as long as it isn't intentional. As long as we are continually trying to place the other person first. And as long as we are willing to admit when we mess up.
photo by Erik Renko
http://www.flickr.com/photos/erikrenko/5339708966/
Truett's preschool class is talking about springtime. This means that their art projects revolve around flowers, kites and clouds. For the past several weeks, the children have had pictures of clouds hanging up on the bulletin board outside of their classroom. The teachers cut out blue construction paper in interesting, symmetrical shapes. They then put some white paint in the center and had the kids fold the paper in half, creating "clouds". When I first saw them hanging on the board, I looked around for Tru's. But when I found it, "cloud" was not the first thing that popped into my head. I'm not going to say what popped into my head but I've shown it to four people and they have all said the same thing. And Sam just read an article that said bloggers should ask more questions in their posts. So here goes:
Do you see what I see?
Jem and I had a bad morning on Friday. It had already been a long week. The boys had "spring break" from preschool on Monday and Tuesday. Then Sam left for a work conference early Thursday morning and just got back on Saturday afternoon. It is never easy when he is gone for a weekend. My days seem longer, knowing that there is no one coming in to spell me. And Friday was a day when I really needed spelled.
Without going into too many details, I will say that someone was playing with my jewelry and lost an earring. This same someone then lied about it. When I finally got him to confess that he did take my earring and drop it, he told me that he had dropped it into the vent in our bathroom. When I asked him why he did that his answer was, "Because I wanted to."
After dealing with all of that, I then asked him to put on his shoes so that we could head out for the morning. He sat on the floor and just sort of pushed them around with his feet. I went over to help him and just lost it. I didn't make it outside this time to scream. Instead, I curled up on my hands and knees, put my face on the floor and screamed until my throat hurt. I was just so angry. It was bad enough that he had lost my earring, an earring that Sam had brought back for me from a trip to Chile. But there was no remorse, no apology, no sense that anything wrong had occurred.
Please don't think that I have crazy expectations of my kid. I realize that he is still a preschooler and that his sense of wrong and right is still developing. But it is so hard to be in this stage when they do things that hurt me or others and I still have to coach them through why it is wrong and remind them to say sorry. And often the sorry is half-hearted.
Those are the moments that I want to give up. I want to let them do whatever they want and just not care. Because caring is hard and frustrating. And sometimes the frustration builds up and comes out in ways that I can't take back.
I really don't know what he was thinking as he sat there and watched me scream. He gave no indication that he was bothered by it at all, asking me to help him with his jacket a few seconds later. But I knew that it wasn't okay. And so I had to go and apologize to him, telling him that I was sorry for yelling. He told me it was okay and went on his way.
As I'm looking back and thinking about it, I'm hoping that my kids will learn more about apologizing and being remorseful through seeing it done, by having their mom come to them and say sorry, instead of being told that they need to apologize. Don't get me wrong, I would still much rather be perfect and never do anything that requires an apology. But that clearly isn't possible so I might as well look for the good in my mistakes and continue to be thankful for second chances.
photo by Jenna Barr
http://www.flickr.com/photos/jennabarr/270988223/
I think that I might be destined for a lifetime of being known as the uncool mom. Today, as I was dropping the boys off at preschool I overheard two mom's from Jem's class talking about a sleepover. This wouldn't really have caught my attention except that the one mom has a girl and the other has a boy. The mom with the boy replied to the invite by saying that her husband was going to be home that night and that her son would want to spend time with him. And then she told me that she just wasn't really comfortable with the idea of a coed sleepover.
And as I was walking to my car I started wondering when coed sleepovers became a thing? I don't think that would have even been an option when I was growing up. And I still remember the reaction I got when I asked my parents if I could stay over at a friend's house after prom with a group of people, some of them male. They didn't say no but it was implied with such force that I felt guilty for even asking for several weeks. And I was seventeen, not four.
But now, apparently it is an acceptable thing to have little girls and boys sleepover at each other's houses. Maybe I'm old fashioned but that just doesn't seem like a great idea. Just thinking of the things that took place at sleepovers I went to when I was a girl makes me cringe. And there weren't any boys involved. I can't even imagine what it could have been like if that were the case.
And yes, they are still at the age where they are, for the most part, innocent and half of them don't even realize the difference yet between boys and girls. But I want it to stay that way. So I think that we will nix coed sleepovers and if that makes me the uncool mom then so be it. It's bound to happen anyway.
photo by mle_val
http://www.flickr.com/photos/mle_val/6531741241/
For a few months now Jem has been napping in our room. He and Tru do fine in the same room at night but nap time is a different story. They talk and laugh and jump around and nap time doesn't really happen. And I need nap time to happen so Jem got moved to our room. He is starting to outgrow his naps and doesn't always fall asleep. And sometimes he decides to explore our room. This has led to my chapstick being used as a crayon on the wall and my hand lotion being smeared on cheeks. Last week he was exploring and the result was a little different. As I went in with him to lay him down, he suddenly crouched down and said, "Mommy. I found something under the bed last time."
Before I go any further, let me say that for the past two years Sam has taken a group of his high school friends up to his family camp for a "man" weekend. They shoot guns, drink beer, and reminisce by the fire. They also do a gag gift exchange and sometimes the gifts are a tad scandalous. Okay, a lot scandalous depending on the guy. And last year Sam was the recipient of a pair of purple hog-tie cuffs. He brought them home and showed them to me. He thought they were hilarious. I thought they were tacky and gross. And that was the end of it. But I didn't realize that Sam had simply shoved the package under our bed. And suddenly, my four-year old is holding them up and asking me what they are. I snatched them from his hands, praying that he hadn't looked at the pictures on the package and silently cursing Sam in my head. And then I told him that he would have to ask Daddy about them and took them out of the room, once again praying, this time that he would forget all about it.
The cuffs are now in the trash, where they should have been in the first place. Thankfully, he hasn't asked about them since and I have preserved his innocence for a little longer. I, however, feel scarred and have absolutely no idea how I'm going to handle it when the real questions start coming.
photo by 4otos
http://www.flickr.com/photos/40224942@N02/6715794041/
