I am not a writer, except in my heart. If I could just tap into a little organization, maybe I could write a scholarly treatise on Laura Ingalls Wilder that would astound the Laura world. Beginning a few years ago, I became obsessed with becoming a LIW scholar. The thing is, though I am not adept enough yet to write about her, I read Laura forums avidly and comment occasionally. I subscribe to a Laura publication called "The Homesteader," and long to attend Laurapalooza (this is a real thing). I've observed one very important point in all this: there are only a few of us obsessed ones. For example, the same people routinely blog about her on "Beyond Little House.com," the most popular web site. And guess what, these aren't just random obsessed Laura people. These are her latest scholars, which makes their readership and commentary about her life that much more important. Recent authors, such as Erin Blakemore, Wendy McClure, and Kathleen Kelly Fergusen, who in the past two years have published books about LIW, routinely comment on the site, and are the leading contributors to Laura "read-alongs" (more on that later), and all things Laura. It is like living out my obsession with total strangers who are not total strangers really at all. Simply because we've never met doesn't mean much. Afterall, none of us ever met Laura, either, and yet we all seem to know her pretty well.
Though I can't remember exactly when my love of her childhood books turned into something more serious, I can remember exactly what it was. In my hunger for finding out more about her, I found literally dozens of biographies and informational books about her at my local library. And what's more, I found quite a few writers who had had this same hunger for Laura, and went about satiating it in roughly the same pattern: Obsession - Frantic Reading of everything ever published about her - Awakening/Understanding of her effect on pioneer history, women, love, faith, life - and ultimately, writing a book about their own journey to find themselves through her. This journey almost always acompanied a physical journey from each of her home sites (and there were many), where gift shops, reenactments of her life, and reconstructed buildings shed more light on who this Laura woman actually was.
In following this pattern myself, I stumbled across a compilation of articles Laura had written herself in her forties - twenty years before she ever wrote her first Little House book - and found that she was a farm journalist for The Missouri Rouralist, in her hometown of Mansfield Missouri (where she and her husband, Manly, eventually carved out there married life). I couldn't believe my eyes as I read these articles! Her monthly contribution was entitled "As a Farm Woman Thinks" and included farming advice, for sure, but also very deep and moving thoughts about the value of thrift and simplicity in a world fast becoming modern. She wrote about her thoughts on war at hand, political theory, and her non-liberal feminist views. Here was the adult version of the fascinating girl I had read about as a child! It was here that my literary interest in her became mature.
Also, imagine my further surprise, when, a few weeks later, I learned that the Little House series was full of fiction, and was not actually the way things actually were. The close-knit family ties were real, as well as the poverty and hard times, but Laura left out the death of her baby brother, and a subsequent very unhappy venture to Iowa, both of which were too sad, according to Laura, to put in a children's book. Once I got over the shock of these two omissions in particular and got to know Laura via biography, they hardly mattered anymore. Nothing had changed in my view of the books, and Laura was probably right to leave certain things out.
What I need to do is not write a scholarly treatise (at least not until I pursue my Masters in English, anyway) but explore my own "Laura World." I have explored in depth my inner Laura world, but I need to do the Laura pilgrimage - geographically speaking - and visit all of her home sites. Sometimes I have read what authors wrote about her and been disappointed, or thought to myself, "you've got it all wrong!" But the only way to know is to go there myself.
Anyone want to join?
Thursday, January 19, 2012
February 7, 2010 Julie & Julia, or "Amy & Amya"
I just saw that movie Julie and Julia and got inspired to blog again. It's a sunny day in TC, and snowshoeing is on my horizon. I can just walk out my door and walk out to the field in the next sub over, and on into the trees, where an ungroomed trail then leads me through those woods and into the groomed trail that neighborhood snowmobilers and cross-country skiiers use. Since I have my ipod on while I'm snowshoeing, it can be hard to hear a skiier come. Not that I've actually seen a skiier. It's so quiet out there. I would hope I'd hear a snowmobile creeping up. Yea, cuz that's what snowmobiles do - they creep up.
I find it amazing that I haven't blogged in so long. Well, not really. The kids make it near to impossible to concentrate for more than 17.4 seconds at a time. Lucy is sitting next to me scratching her excema (so hard that I would venture to guess a few layers of skin have come off as well). All those over the counter lotions and cremes are a joke for her. She just itches her way through life. That poor girl (and in turn, her poor parents). She has so many issues. Non-serious, most of them. It all depends on how seriously you view excema. Apparently I don't at all, because if I did, I would make a dr. appointment to have it checked out, but as you now know, I haven't done this. Why, you might ask? Well that's because of all the other little non-threatening issues she has, that , added up, drive us crazy! Last time she was at the dr (2 months ago) I was so focused on the raised bumps on her abdomen, which turned out to be a virus called "molluscom contagiosum" and the time before that when I took her we were all wrapped up in her toilet training issues - now labelled by her doctor and every other expert as "toilet training resistance." (well no kidding - wait - you mean it's not normal for a 5 year old to poop little bits of fecal matter into her underwear every half hour?). That reminds me, since she stopped doing that for about 1month but then started up again, I'd better get her back to the doctor. Poor Lucy. She always has these little nagging issues following her. First it was colic at 3 months. Then she started itching herself from about age 2 on. We used Aveeno with oatmeal extract bubble bath. Supposed to soothe her. It didn't. We used and still use Aquophor. She keeps itching. She had 2.5 years of the most terrible twos you could ever imagine. It wasn't as if the temper tantrums were ever resolved. Once, when she was 3, she was so mad that I made her hold my hand as we crossed a busy street, that she cried for TWO hours because I wouldn't let her go back across the street (alone, mind you, was the request), and then walk back across it (alone, of course). I'm all for letting a kid establish their own independence, but I draw the line at safety issues!
At age 2.5 we made a plan to potty train her the same way we'd potty trained our oldest. We'd (I'd) go to the island with my mom and the kids for 3 weeks, and, while there, tell her that Beaver Island didn't have diapers, and I didn't bring any, so she could choose to either go naked or wear underwear. She straddled back and forth between the two at first, but within one week was in underwear, using the toilet regularly. What a breeze it all was! I remember wondering what the big fuss was that parents made about potty training; after all, here I was, having successfully potty trained two children, and at the time having only one to go. And, him being a boy and all, I figured, if there were going to be any problems, he'd be the one to have them.
Oh silly parent and your well-made plans! Three weeks later and on the mainland, that kid straight up refused to use the potty at home. For a little while, she'd amuse me and go at Meijer, but everywhere else she just "let go" whatever was in her system in her underwear. And that's been her MO, as my dad would say, ever since. She just didn't care. She is a very intense person, so she'd play for 3 hours with her barbies, and not want to be bothered with anything so menial as toilet needs. After which time, she'd come to me and tell me a whole story about her barbies' names were, and who got married that day, and where they would all live. At the end of this diatribe, she'd usually end with "and oh yea, I peed in my underwear, so you'd better change me."
I know this sounds vain, but I think the girl is too intellectually gifted to be bothered with going the bathroom! Her thoughts and clear-cut questions are so deep and well-spoken, so you are struck with the fact that she plainly gets it. She knows how to get to a bathroom.......right? So why doesn't she? We started thinking Ellie was a smart kid who just didn't make a big show of it, and that most kids were like Lucy. Time has shown that Lucy is the exception. What was missing here was embarrasment. Ellie would rather die than go #2 in a public place. Lucy will poop in a crowded room of people and think nothing of it. So what is it? I'm still trying to figure this out. Is Lucy just too interested in other things to make time for the br? It seems to be a family trait, whose names I shall leave blank. I've tried patience, (endless amounts of it). I've tried various angles on them - "it's gross, it's embarrassing, it's smelly, you're too smart for this, I don't care what you do it's your poop not mine" - and they all work for about a day. The next day it's back to the same thing. I worry about her health now. Encompresis (constipation to the lay person) is harmful for the body, after all! On a side note, Trey potty trained himself with very little effort on our parts, it seemed, right during one of Lucy's worst weeks. And he continues to take care of it completely independently, because "big boys don't use diapers." We told him this, and guess what, he believes it! For Lucy, these statements are about as uninfluential as advising a bird not to fly south in the winter.
I guess these aren't "table talk" issues, as my mom would say. But they are MY issues. And I also think maybe they aren't just "non-threatening" issues. Every parent has issues with their kids. It's true none of my kids have special needs (though this would be a blessing in many ways) or have a brain tumor that needs surgery. But when all of you other kids are so "easy" give or take, it can - in comparison - be just as traumatizing, I have the gall to proclaim!
I find it amazing that I haven't blogged in so long. Well, not really. The kids make it near to impossible to concentrate for more than 17.4 seconds at a time. Lucy is sitting next to me scratching her excema (so hard that I would venture to guess a few layers of skin have come off as well). All those over the counter lotions and cremes are a joke for her. She just itches her way through life. That poor girl (and in turn, her poor parents). She has so many issues. Non-serious, most of them. It all depends on how seriously you view excema. Apparently I don't at all, because if I did, I would make a dr. appointment to have it checked out, but as you now know, I haven't done this. Why, you might ask? Well that's because of all the other little non-threatening issues she has, that , added up, drive us crazy! Last time she was at the dr (2 months ago) I was so focused on the raised bumps on her abdomen, which turned out to be a virus called "molluscom contagiosum" and the time before that when I took her we were all wrapped up in her toilet training issues - now labelled by her doctor and every other expert as "toilet training resistance." (well no kidding - wait - you mean it's not normal for a 5 year old to poop little bits of fecal matter into her underwear every half hour?). That reminds me, since she stopped doing that for about 1month but then started up again, I'd better get her back to the doctor. Poor Lucy. She always has these little nagging issues following her. First it was colic at 3 months. Then she started itching herself from about age 2 on. We used Aveeno with oatmeal extract bubble bath. Supposed to soothe her. It didn't. We used and still use Aquophor. She keeps itching. She had 2.5 years of the most terrible twos you could ever imagine. It wasn't as if the temper tantrums were ever resolved. Once, when she was 3, she was so mad that I made her hold my hand as we crossed a busy street, that she cried for TWO hours because I wouldn't let her go back across the street (alone, mind you, was the request), and then walk back across it (alone, of course). I'm all for letting a kid establish their own independence, but I draw the line at safety issues!
At age 2.5 we made a plan to potty train her the same way we'd potty trained our oldest. We'd (I'd) go to the island with my mom and the kids for 3 weeks, and, while there, tell her that Beaver Island didn't have diapers, and I didn't bring any, so she could choose to either go naked or wear underwear. She straddled back and forth between the two at first, but within one week was in underwear, using the toilet regularly. What a breeze it all was! I remember wondering what the big fuss was that parents made about potty training; after all, here I was, having successfully potty trained two children, and at the time having only one to go. And, him being a boy and all, I figured, if there were going to be any problems, he'd be the one to have them.
Oh silly parent and your well-made plans! Three weeks later and on the mainland, that kid straight up refused to use the potty at home. For a little while, she'd amuse me and go at Meijer, but everywhere else she just "let go" whatever was in her system in her underwear. And that's been her MO, as my dad would say, ever since. She just didn't care. She is a very intense person, so she'd play for 3 hours with her barbies, and not want to be bothered with anything so menial as toilet needs. After which time, she'd come to me and tell me a whole story about her barbies' names were, and who got married that day, and where they would all live. At the end of this diatribe, she'd usually end with "and oh yea, I peed in my underwear, so you'd better change me."
I know this sounds vain, but I think the girl is too intellectually gifted to be bothered with going the bathroom! Her thoughts and clear-cut questions are so deep and well-spoken, so you are struck with the fact that she plainly gets it. She knows how to get to a bathroom.......right? So why doesn't she? We started thinking Ellie was a smart kid who just didn't make a big show of it, and that most kids were like Lucy. Time has shown that Lucy is the exception. What was missing here was embarrasment. Ellie would rather die than go #2 in a public place. Lucy will poop in a crowded room of people and think nothing of it. So what is it? I'm still trying to figure this out. Is Lucy just too interested in other things to make time for the br? It seems to be a family trait, whose names I shall leave blank. I've tried patience, (endless amounts of it). I've tried various angles on them - "it's gross, it's embarrassing, it's smelly, you're too smart for this, I don't care what you do it's your poop not mine" - and they all work for about a day. The next day it's back to the same thing. I worry about her health now. Encompresis (constipation to the lay person) is harmful for the body, after all! On a side note, Trey potty trained himself with very little effort on our parts, it seemed, right during one of Lucy's worst weeks. And he continues to take care of it completely independently, because "big boys don't use diapers." We told him this, and guess what, he believes it! For Lucy, these statements are about as uninfluential as advising a bird not to fly south in the winter.
I guess these aren't "table talk" issues, as my mom would say. But they are MY issues. And I also think maybe they aren't just "non-threatening" issues. Every parent has issues with their kids. It's true none of my kids have special needs (though this would be a blessing in many ways) or have a brain tumor that needs surgery. But when all of you other kids are so "easy" give or take, it can - in comparison - be just as traumatizing, I have the gall to proclaim!
From February 8, 2010
Or should I say, "Kids, Part Duex." What a case of the Mondays. With Ellie being sick today and staying home with Joe, I found myself with an extra 1/2 hour to relax before leaving the house. And it was very relaxing. The day already promised sunshine, so we sat in our cozy living room, kids on our laps, until it was time to go. It was a very cold morning, but I felt upbeat and positive. One week into walking every day, my energy level was pretty good. So when we parked and it was time to get the kids out, Trey began screaming. And screaming. And it didn't stop all the way in and all the way out while dropping Lucy off. It was like a movie; people gave me the evil eye the way people do when your kid screams and they assume you've been beating them. It was not pretty. I've learned in these instances that giving in to the tantrum simply doesn't work (btw, this tantrum was because I couldn't carry him - I had Mollie in one arm and physically can't hold a 31/2 yr. old as well. Plus, I'm trying to instill independence in these kids, and carrying a 3 yr. old one day will teach him that I will carry him every day. I know, I know, I'm a tough-ass). Long story even longer, as JP (my eldest sister) would say, Lucy had also forgotten her boots that day, and so had to borrow the school ones. I hate that! And I watched her go get her boots on the way out the door, but that little sneak had put them back when my back was turned and put on her fancy princess shoes, which of course I didn't notice until we were standing in front of her locker. Of course this had to be recess day, too.
Everything went pretty smoothly at mom's group, once my anger toward Trey had abated, and we had kissed and made up. This happened because he informed me, in his sweetest voice, that "he was so sorry" and that he is "just your bizzle-boy so you have to love him." Man oh man that is going to work on the girls one day!
Some of the girls suggested we meet at BK playland afterward for lunch, so silly me, I decide I will pick Lucy up and then we'll do just that. Fun times at BK chatting it up with the MIC gang, but when it was time to go, it was, once again, not pretty. Lucy was incoherently going on and on about having two more minutes to play, which I gladly gave her, but since she didn't get to do what she wanted in those 2 minutes, she wanted another 2 minutes. A rational mother not carrying one child and holding the hand of another would not give in to this, but for the sake of quiet for those around me, I told her she could. But she didn't want another 2 minutes, folks. Uh-uh. She wanted the previous 2 minutes back. Hail Mary, Full of Grace, the Lord is with thee.....
said for patience, because I can do a lot of things with God's grace, but turning back the clock isn't one of them. So I did one of those things mothers never admit to anyone besides their husband, and I coaxed her (still screaming) to the foyer of the building, and hurried 2 of them to the car, and ran back (reluctantly, I'll admit) to get Lucy and bring her screaming to the car. As I was in the midst of this, a patron of said BK said "ohhhh, she must be about 2 1/2, eh?" Nope, I told him, she's a very very special 5 year old, big old fake grin on my face. One would THINK she was 2 the way she acts, so I don't blame him at all. Such a Jonah day (as Anne spelled with an "e" would say)
Everything went pretty smoothly at mom's group, once my anger toward Trey had abated, and we had kissed and made up. This happened because he informed me, in his sweetest voice, that "he was so sorry" and that he is "just your bizzle-boy so you have to love him." Man oh man that is going to work on the girls one day!
Some of the girls suggested we meet at BK playland afterward for lunch, so silly me, I decide I will pick Lucy up and then we'll do just that. Fun times at BK chatting it up with the MIC gang, but when it was time to go, it was, once again, not pretty. Lucy was incoherently going on and on about having two more minutes to play, which I gladly gave her, but since she didn't get to do what she wanted in those 2 minutes, she wanted another 2 minutes. A rational mother not carrying one child and holding the hand of another would not give in to this, but for the sake of quiet for those around me, I told her she could. But she didn't want another 2 minutes, folks. Uh-uh. She wanted the previous 2 minutes back. Hail Mary, Full of Grace, the Lord is with thee.....
said for patience, because I can do a lot of things with God's grace, but turning back the clock isn't one of them. So I did one of those things mothers never admit to anyone besides their husband, and I coaxed her (still screaming) to the foyer of the building, and hurried 2 of them to the car, and ran back (reluctantly, I'll admit) to get Lucy and bring her screaming to the car. As I was in the midst of this, a patron of said BK said "ohhhh, she must be about 2 1/2, eh?" Nope, I told him, she's a very very special 5 year old, big old fake grin on my face. One would THINK she was 2 the way she acts, so I don't blame him at all. Such a Jonah day (as Anne spelled with an "e" would say)
I want to live inside a Phish show. At a Phish show, I suppose. But it's really a state of mind at a physical place. How incredibly psychidellic of me. Wow, I am such a Phishhead. NOT. The thing is, I don't really fit the mold. I am a Catholic wife and mother with a pretty clean-cut life laid out in front of me. My vocation is made clear, and I follow it willingly and joyfully (most of the time, ha ha ). I met an actual Phishhead the other day at Lucy's school. He had on a phish hat like I did. It was about a month after our Cobo show, and I was still on the high. We were both surprised and delighted to find each other. We talked about the Chicago show vs. the Detroit show, which we both deemed better, and talked about how long we had been following them. But it ended there. Were we to meet at a Phish show together, persay, and discover we were both from TC, I'm sure it would have been much more bonding. But he was very negative about life and not really mature enough to get beyond Phish. It's not that I expected to be best friends with him, but I was struck by another stream of thought that I'm still working through. What IS a Phishhead? People generally think, if they know anything at all about music, that phishheads are just hippies that took off after Phish when the Grateful Dead stopped touring. The truth of the matter is, that whether you like or hate the Dead (and I happen to dislike them mucho grande), an educated Phish "phan", as it were, knows full well how different the two are. And how much more mainstream Phish is, but in an underground fashion. Most people have still never even heard of Phish, since, sadly most people just listen to the radio where I'm from, but when you go to a Phish show you are at once within a family of "phans" who are sharing an intimate secret. And no, it's not (only) the air we're all breathing:)
A phishhead is anyone in any state of life who "gets" Phish. And you either do or you don't. Unlike DMB, who I used to follow, I would always be annoyed by all the people there who didn't know any songs and just sat there, but when "Satellite" came on, they'd dance and sing, because that was the song they came for. You'd never encounter that at a Phish show. And first - timers brought there by their friends still show that respect, and dance whether they know the songs or not! If you know Phish, you love them. If you don't really know them but you have friends who are into them, you have a respect. Or, if you're my friend Libby, you know their music and you hate it. I can at least respect that, because she at least knows who they are! Knowing Phish isn't like knowing who John Mellencamp is. And hey, I like his music. But while it might incite an old memory from time to time, it doesn't have deep, lasting value. Phish are exhuberant, vibrant, and deep, all while never changing their lighthearted essence. No other group can do that. I challenge you to come up with one. Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but you'd better be able to hold your own if you challenge me on this one!!!!! xxoo to Trey,Jon,Page and Mike.
A phishhead is anyone in any state of life who "gets" Phish. And you either do or you don't. Unlike DMB, who I used to follow, I would always be annoyed by all the people there who didn't know any songs and just sat there, but when "Satellite" came on, they'd dance and sing, because that was the song they came for. You'd never encounter that at a Phish show. And first - timers brought there by their friends still show that respect, and dance whether they know the songs or not! If you know Phish, you love them. If you don't really know them but you have friends who are into them, you have a respect. Or, if you're my friend Libby, you know their music and you hate it. I can at least respect that, because she at least knows who they are! Knowing Phish isn't like knowing who John Mellencamp is. And hey, I like his music. But while it might incite an old memory from time to time, it doesn't have deep, lasting value. Phish are exhuberant, vibrant, and deep, all while never changing their lighthearted essence. No other group can do that. I challenge you to come up with one. Of course, everyone is entitled to their own opinion, but you'd better be able to hold your own if you challenge me on this one!!!!! xxoo to Trey,Jon,Page and Mike.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Disciplining myself....er...them. Yea, them.
So I've been teaching a weekly faith formation class to second graders at my church, and while I thought I had some wisdom to impart, it seems that instead I am the student. First of all, I realized that my mediocre disciplinary skills weren't going to hack it against 13 seven - year olds who all know each other from school. One of the more assertive little girls told me right off the bat: "Okay, those two can't sit next to each other at school so maybe not here either." Boy was she right. (future teacher?) I was immediately humbled. Literally, I am ashamed to admit, I had not even made a seating chart after 3 weeks. I naively thought I could rule with "love." Literally: love. That's what makes the world go round, right? What EVER. I confused that with discipline. I had subbed before, but this was the first time I had to make the rules, and it is totally different. I was like Anne of Green Gables on her first day of teaching, when she actually told the kids that she wanted everyone to get along and so could they please do that? It backfired for her and it backfired for me. Those kids see that you have a heart and it's all over. Those first few classes I decided that I was a complete failure. It didn't help that all the other teachers somehow found out I couldn't control my roudy bunch and condescendingly offered "advice." Why had God called me to do this? I was obviously way too weak to run a classroom. I didn't quit, though. Since I had parents who made me complete things, no matter how much I wanted to quit, I knew that I had to push through.
What can I report, now, halfway through? Well, I dug in my heels and did some research and VERY unwillingly (still unwillingly, actually, but I ignore it) made some class rules and a seating chart, and had a serious chat with the kids about some clearly laid-out consequences. I hated doing that. I really truly just want everyone to be good, and am too understanding when they aren't. Were my mom to read this she would smile and shake her head. She knows how sensitive I am, and how I put myself in the kids' shoes to a fault. I remember vividly what it was like to be a kid, how it felt to be scolded, so I hate to do it. It's silly, really.
All of my friends are awesome disciplinarians; I fall very short of them. In case you wondered, my pattern goes something like this: Kid whines, I ignore. Kid whines, I start inwardly fuming. Do nothing (it will stop, right?) Kid whines, I say "stop!" Kid whines, I say "stop" again. I say stop a few more times. Joe walks in the room, sweeps kid off their feet and into their room. (oh wait, this is only 20% of the time. The other 80% when he's not home I have to actually DO something). I threaten to take things away, then take them away. Kid doesn't care, I take more things away. Kid still doesn't seem affected. I put them in their room. I think my routine is pretty acceptable, except that it is not immediate enough, and has too many steps.
But good news! Don't freak out, dear readers. I(we) have implemented some changes. Kids have house rules and clearly defined, immediate consequences, as of 2 days ago. How's it going? Pretty fair. I wanted to report that we have 4 little behavior miracles but let's just say.......it's a process. They are testing all the rules now with an intensity that would push over an elephant, just to see if I'll give in. However, after 2 straight days of time-out for Mollie climbing on the table and playing with the Advent Wreath, she hasn't touched it once today (10:59am). The old Amy would have just put it up high and avoided all the timeouts, but I just decided that this is OUR house, the parents' house, and I want that wreath on my dining room table, dang it! She's 2 1/2 and she can follow simple don't touch rules. I have done enough reading about the psychology behind toddlers to know that their impluse control is practically nil. Now I am responding to it, rather than just understanding it :) Like I said, it's a process for this tired mom.
So back to my second graders. They are such dears! We have been having such lovely conversations about their little lives, and I learn so much about how they think and what they think. They force me to be serious with them, since they don't understand my primary language (sarcasm), so that's been good for me. I am practicing the art of balancing being a good listener vs. letting the students take control of the conversation, transitions, having designated helpers, etc. We are pretty used to each other by now. We put on a play of the Annunciation / birth of Christ a few weeks ago and they did a wonderful job and enjoyed it immensely. We are practicing now for our Advent program and sing our hearts out. I love Christmas season, anyhow, but being able to experience it through the eyes of children makes it that much more enriching. Also, being with them enhances the enjoyment of Christmas with my own children. (also, Ellie is in my class so it has been an added bonus to see how she acts in a classroom up close)
Last night I asked the kids to write down something they would like to do or change in themselves this Advent season, and then put that slip of paper in the empty manger while we wait for baby Jesus to come. Here's a sampling of their sincere, funny, and frank thoughts:
1. try to love
2. not hunt animals
3. i will do more work
4. do not ckik (kick?)
5. i will do nothing
6. punch my brother in the gut
7. I will try to get my spelling test right
8. I will help the white rabbit
9. I'll not be bad to people
Kids........Ya gotta love 'em.
What can I report, now, halfway through? Well, I dug in my heels and did some research and VERY unwillingly (still unwillingly, actually, but I ignore it) made some class rules and a seating chart, and had a serious chat with the kids about some clearly laid-out consequences. I hated doing that. I really truly just want everyone to be good, and am too understanding when they aren't. Were my mom to read this she would smile and shake her head. She knows how sensitive I am, and how I put myself in the kids' shoes to a fault. I remember vividly what it was like to be a kid, how it felt to be scolded, so I hate to do it. It's silly, really.
All of my friends are awesome disciplinarians; I fall very short of them. In case you wondered, my pattern goes something like this: Kid whines, I ignore. Kid whines, I start inwardly fuming. Do nothing (it will stop, right?) Kid whines, I say "stop!" Kid whines, I say "stop" again. I say stop a few more times. Joe walks in the room, sweeps kid off their feet and into their room. (oh wait, this is only 20% of the time. The other 80% when he's not home I have to actually DO something). I threaten to take things away, then take them away. Kid doesn't care, I take more things away. Kid still doesn't seem affected. I put them in their room. I think my routine is pretty acceptable, except that it is not immediate enough, and has too many steps.
But good news! Don't freak out, dear readers. I(we) have implemented some changes. Kids have house rules and clearly defined, immediate consequences, as of 2 days ago. How's it going? Pretty fair. I wanted to report that we have 4 little behavior miracles but let's just say.......it's a process. They are testing all the rules now with an intensity that would push over an elephant, just to see if I'll give in. However, after 2 straight days of time-out for Mollie climbing on the table and playing with the Advent Wreath, she hasn't touched it once today (10:59am). The old Amy would have just put it up high and avoided all the timeouts, but I just decided that this is OUR house, the parents' house, and I want that wreath on my dining room table, dang it! She's 2 1/2 and she can follow simple don't touch rules. I have done enough reading about the psychology behind toddlers to know that their impluse control is practically nil. Now I am responding to it, rather than just understanding it :) Like I said, it's a process for this tired mom.
So back to my second graders. They are such dears! We have been having such lovely conversations about their little lives, and I learn so much about how they think and what they think. They force me to be serious with them, since they don't understand my primary language (sarcasm), so that's been good for me. I am practicing the art of balancing being a good listener vs. letting the students take control of the conversation, transitions, having designated helpers, etc. We are pretty used to each other by now. We put on a play of the Annunciation / birth of Christ a few weeks ago and they did a wonderful job and enjoyed it immensely. We are practicing now for our Advent program and sing our hearts out. I love Christmas season, anyhow, but being able to experience it through the eyes of children makes it that much more enriching. Also, being with them enhances the enjoyment of Christmas with my own children. (also, Ellie is in my class so it has been an added bonus to see how she acts in a classroom up close)
Last night I asked the kids to write down something they would like to do or change in themselves this Advent season, and then put that slip of paper in the empty manger while we wait for baby Jesus to come. Here's a sampling of their sincere, funny, and frank thoughts:
1. try to love
2. not hunt animals
3. i will do more work
4. do not ckik (kick?)
5. i will do nothing
6. punch my brother in the gut
7. I will try to get my spelling test right
8. I will help the white rabbit
9. I'll not be bad to people
Kids........Ya gotta love 'em.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
10 Things I've Learned From Having Kids
1. A pirate patch is an accessory.
2. Words like "pee," "poop,"and "butt" are insanely funny to kids.
3. It's possible to have an intense fascination with ONE thing for over two years.
4. Two - year olds do NOT care what you say.
5. It's possible to go from a state of total anger to loving maternal bliss in a matter of seconds. (and vice verca)
6. Thumb sucking may be bad for their teeth but man it's cute!
7. Saying "poopoo goes on the potty" does not mean that they actually know how to do it.
8. It's really really really hard not to laugh sometimes.
9. 99% of what you take for granted as fact amazes and/or perplexes them.
10. Kids seem to remain the same age for months and then in one statement or action show that they have grown 2 years in maturity.
...and BONUS #11: I never knew I could love any 4 little people so much.
2. Words like "pee," "poop,"and "butt" are insanely funny to kids.
3. It's possible to have an intense fascination with ONE thing for over two years.
4. Two - year olds do NOT care what you say.
5. It's possible to go from a state of total anger to loving maternal bliss in a matter of seconds. (and vice verca)
6. Thumb sucking may be bad for their teeth but man it's cute!
7. Saying "poopoo goes on the potty" does not mean that they actually know how to do it.
8. It's really really really hard not to laugh sometimes.
9. 99% of what you take for granted as fact amazes and/or perplexes them.
10. Kids seem to remain the same age for months and then in one statement or action show that they have grown 2 years in maturity.
...and BONUS #11: I never knew I could love any 4 little people so much.
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Random, Non-Detox Thoughts
Feeling sorta random today. Usually like to write with some attention to reader interest and correct syntax, but not today. Blog will probably read like a personal diary instead, but don't worry, I have nothing murderous to confess. And I promise not to talk about depression, because it apparently scares people. So does being blunt. :)
Having some end of summer lazy days, well, for the most part. My last days of summer I have purposely designed to be this way. No outside commitments if I can help it, and all of my work is self-directed and self-motivated, from home. Not that, honestly, most of my life isn't structured this way anyway, but these last few weeks before school starts I have been more intentional than ever about it. All too soon I will be ruled by school schedules and twice or four times daily pickups/drop offs. I like the regularity of it, essentially, but it is nice to also to have time off from it. So, I'm cleaning more, and getting the house organized for school. These are really pleasant tasks, and I relish the time I have to spend on this, and take great pride in making it all work.
The small things in life have always held a dear place in my heart - a cup of tea, kids playing happily at my feet, soothing little "owies," a stroll down the street, a bike ride with kiddos, etc. A lot of these things are of course interrupted by little arguments and frustrations, and sometimes outright cat fights, not to mention pee accidents and demonstrations of the inability to listen when I'm talking. But whatev. These incidents all serve as opportunities for me to "mold" my kids, teaching them those important lessons of how to share and get along with others, to tell the truth, to acquire patience. These are so important! There is a joy to be able to transfer these things on to four, precious souls. It is overwhelming at the same time, but in my teaching I become more patient myself. Everything you need to know about how to live you can learn from you kids, I believe. If you want to learn to not act out impatiently, try teaching a 7 year with the same tendencies not to. We are both growing - I can gaurantee it. If you want to learn how to juggle a roomful of several different personalities, try juggling four kids 7 and under with 4 distinct temperaments and age - appropriate needs. My goal in life is not to have a career, but when I do work outside the home again, what I have learned here is the basic human understanding of how people work. I find that all of my volunteer work and curriculum writing is less of a challenge than my four stinkers. Vastly different, but more manageable because of my boot camp. I can't imagine the heartache of being away from their love and progress all day, and am grateful that I have learned the skills to manage a home in a way that saves us money enough to do this.
On another note, I think my haircut from yesterday is too short. I really really got excited at first, and still am, when I felt that weight fall off my head! And it will grow, I think I'm just having a mourning period. My hairdresser is going on maternity leave so I wanted to do something drastic before she left. Well, I did. Looks good, but feels so strange right now!
Last night we headed off as a fam to a kid birthday party. I swear that it was summer when I went inside to change for leaving. When I came out, it was fall. I went back inside and changed to pants and grabbed my raincoat! So I hang on to these "lazy" days of summer, heading to the beach even though I feel beached out, and putting the sprinkler on for the kids. It's my last summer to have a 7 year old, a 5 year old, an almost 4 year old, and a 2 year old, and these days won't last...
Having some end of summer lazy days, well, for the most part. My last days of summer I have purposely designed to be this way. No outside commitments if I can help it, and all of my work is self-directed and self-motivated, from home. Not that, honestly, most of my life isn't structured this way anyway, but these last few weeks before school starts I have been more intentional than ever about it. All too soon I will be ruled by school schedules and twice or four times daily pickups/drop offs. I like the regularity of it, essentially, but it is nice to also to have time off from it. So, I'm cleaning more, and getting the house organized for school. These are really pleasant tasks, and I relish the time I have to spend on this, and take great pride in making it all work.
The small things in life have always held a dear place in my heart - a cup of tea, kids playing happily at my feet, soothing little "owies," a stroll down the street, a bike ride with kiddos, etc. A lot of these things are of course interrupted by little arguments and frustrations, and sometimes outright cat fights, not to mention pee accidents and demonstrations of the inability to listen when I'm talking. But whatev. These incidents all serve as opportunities for me to "mold" my kids, teaching them those important lessons of how to share and get along with others, to tell the truth, to acquire patience. These are so important! There is a joy to be able to transfer these things on to four, precious souls. It is overwhelming at the same time, but in my teaching I become more patient myself. Everything you need to know about how to live you can learn from you kids, I believe. If you want to learn to not act out impatiently, try teaching a 7 year with the same tendencies not to. We are both growing - I can gaurantee it. If you want to learn how to juggle a roomful of several different personalities, try juggling four kids 7 and under with 4 distinct temperaments and age - appropriate needs. My goal in life is not to have a career, but when I do work outside the home again, what I have learned here is the basic human understanding of how people work. I find that all of my volunteer work and curriculum writing is less of a challenge than my four stinkers. Vastly different, but more manageable because of my boot camp. I can't imagine the heartache of being away from their love and progress all day, and am grateful that I have learned the skills to manage a home in a way that saves us money enough to do this.
On another note, I think my haircut from yesterday is too short. I really really got excited at first, and still am, when I felt that weight fall off my head! And it will grow, I think I'm just having a mourning period. My hairdresser is going on maternity leave so I wanted to do something drastic before she left. Well, I did. Looks good, but feels so strange right now!
Last night we headed off as a fam to a kid birthday party. I swear that it was summer when I went inside to change for leaving. When I came out, it was fall. I went back inside and changed to pants and grabbed my raincoat! So I hang on to these "lazy" days of summer, heading to the beach even though I feel beached out, and putting the sprinkler on for the kids. It's my last summer to have a 7 year old, a 5 year old, an almost 4 year old, and a 2 year old, and these days won't last...
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