MOPS & Hazel, but mostly MOPS

Hazel danced her way to her class today at MOPS, telling her teacher to "look at me!"  Such a happy girl today!  I am hopeful this means we've reached another milestone.  She cheerfully waved her goodbye to me, smiling about the Elmo show her teacher was preparing for her.  She's the only girl in her class and she makes quite an impression.

My activities are much more fun when my children are happy with whatever arrangements are made for them.  I appreciate having time to be an adult, to be asked my opinion, to be challenged to meet the goals I've shared with these women that are important to me.  Their encouragement and understanding is priceless.  We're all dealing with young children.  We all know what it is to be frustrated in our relationships, sleep deprived, and at our wit's end with discipline.  We hurt with each other, cheer with each other, and accept each other for where we are at in our lives without judgment.

Jean is a mentor mom at my MOPS and has been there since I began participating.  She phoned this morning because she wanted to commiserate with me about our home burglary as she too had experienced the violation when her children were small.  She told me of coming home in the winter with her husband and baby, only to have the door fall in when her husband tried unlocking it.  He disappeared into the house to investigate and did not return quickly.  She could hear rustling and feared for his safety.  After calling for him, she found him at their bedroom trying to help a tiny, frightened sparrow exit.  She said they both were so distracted by the bird, the completely forgot the bird could only have come in through the door with whoever had broken it down.  After successfully rescuing the bird, Jean phoned her mother to tell her.  She was a little thrown when her mom asked her if she had phoned the police.  Jean and her husband had completely forgotten.  She views the bird as a reminder from God that He's always watching and caring for His children and that good can come from anything.

I am so thankful for MOPS.

We're in Trouble

We are so in for it with the little pip.  She spent most of yesterday speaking gibberish at us with great seriousness, regaling us with stories she had to think earnestly about to be sure she imparted all the information.  "Dee-diddle-dee da Mama oline.  Bye, loadda dee li doo!  Dab a doob a doot doo teedle doot.  Bye Mama!"

Ordinarily when Hans comes home, she yells his name over and over as she runs to hug him.  Yesterday, he walked in and said "hi" to her and she wouldn't even look at him.  She sat on the sofa with her book open on her lap, eyes staring at the pages.  Hans and I both tried soliciting a "hello" from her for her beloved Papa.  She refused to make eye contact and continued to stare at her book.  Finally, without moving her head or changing her expression, her eyes glance up at her father.  Little twit. 

She refuses any other acknowledgement for another ten minutes.  When Hans touched her dee, she marched away, snatching it too her chest while yelling, "Is mine!"

This youngest opinionated business...the non-stop talking and lecturing...ooohh boy.  We're in trouble.

Another Night

Home alone again tonight.  I've already locked up, put the kids to bed, loaded the dishwasher and processed laundry.  Now I get to sit here and have a silent night (provided my lovelies sleep without a hitch tonight).  Since I prefer to have a silent night with the hubs, this kinda sucks.

Today was a good day.  Took a long, enjoyable walk on a beautiful day with a good girlfriend, discussing my new favorite song, Home, and just how hippie dippy I am in relation to my button-up shirt husband who grew up listening to Kenny Rogers and John Denver.  The windows were replaced at lunchtime by a towering 7-foot, trying-too-hard-to-be-sympathetic man, who professionally demonstrated great strength (sarcasm!) as he quickly and embarrassingly easily snapped the new sashes into place.  My much healthier children have successfully annoyed each other without injury and I even witnessed them following directions without too many requests.

So here I sit, typing away, thinking about things best left unsaid, wishing for things that will never be, and being thankful for all that is.  Still wish I wasn't alone.

Enunciation

Eli just informed me that Sergio is the only kid in his class who doesn't like him. When I asked why, he tells me that Sergio always wants to sit where he is and will come over saying, "I can't fit. I can't fit." This was said in a whiny, snotty voice. I asked Eli if that's how he acts at school (the voice was accompanied by that irritating head wiggle too). He became indignant because no, he doesn't act like that. Sergio is not even a good enunciator and it's a good thing the teacher knows his (Sergio's) name because Eli wouldn't even know it otherwise.

What have I done?  I am a bit particular about proper enunciation myself...not sure it's such a good thing if my child disparages others for poor speech though.

Really?

After checking to see the time is past 9 AM, I pick up my phone and dial my mother. This is almost a daily ritual. As the call goes to the answering service for the second time this morning, I find myself unsettled at her non-answer. She's my mother! She should answer! Moms have to answer when their kids call!

I've been having many realizations now that I'm a mom which provide much better understanding of my own mom.

1. Mom wasn't nuts when she told the guy behind the counter that she wanted to kiss him after he carded her. It's really nice to feel young and vibrant, especially when kids make you feel old and completely fried.
2. Mom was/is much smarter than she was given credit. It's hard making your brain work for homework at the end of the day. Moms really do work all day with tedious, nit-pick details of their husband's and children's needs and schedules. Kid A needs specific report file for the essay worth 40% of the grade, Kid B has practice from 4-6PM so I need to leave at 3:15 to pick them up, Kid C needs new shoes...what size again?..., Kid D...where's Kid D? Does everyone have a lunch packed? Where's Kid B's homework? Is that shirt getting too small? Where are their coats? AAAAUUUGHHH!! A Mom's internal monologue alone is exhausting. Especially when she is trying to maintain a clean home, healthy meals, happy kids and a fulfilling marriage. Does it really matter if her brain does not want to deal with 7x8=? after doubling the dinner recipe and scrambling to vacuum since the hubby surprised her with extra dinner guests?
   
3. Being able to close the bathroom door and have actual privacy with no one talking to you or whining your name makes an almost perfect treasure-worthy moment.
4. Children helping clean the house without crying or complaining is one of the best gifts. It ranks right up there with handmade cards and drawings. Cleaning as a surprise may rank as the number one favorite gift tied with following directions the first time they are stated.
5. Crying at the dinner table or crying over leftovers is completely acceptable behavior. Little moments appear with great clarity on occasion magnifying the passage of time and how the former babies have grown and are not necessarily able to make a specific family meal all together.
6. "Because I said so," is a valid reason for doing chores. Why should Mom have to come up with a more specific answer? (see #2)
7. Moms are allowed to have activities that are just their own with no tag-along kids or husbands demanding attention.
   

I'm sure I can come up with many more lessons I've learned. My mom is awesome.

Two

Oh to be 2. The arguments I resolve these days are plentiful. Most revolve around our 2 year-old princess whose shrieking mines and noes are enough to make any one's head explode. "What is her problem today?" I ask a bewildered, laughing boy again lying on the floor after being shoved and screeched at by a little miss. Seems she does not want her brother on the edge of the bed with her and the oldest, sweetly readying to read a story to the obnoxious twit. She's lying next to her sister, yelling if we move her to the middle of the bed to see the story better and make room for her unfortunate bother denied room on his bed by a half-pint. I ask if Eli can be in the middle and her grinning "peas" allows her brother admittance. What to do with this demanding, opinionated pipsqueak? At least this phase too shall pass...

Bedtime

It's supposed to be bedtime and all I can reflect on is how my role in life is bewildering. Take tonight for example: Hazel's screaming at me because I try to change her clothes for bed after she's begging me to "dup" her in bed, Eli's crying because he really, really wishes he could see a live saber-tooth tiger, and Abby's busy reorganizing her schoolbag after she spent ten minutes searching without seeing it lying on the floor of her room. Five minutes after the drama, Hazel is reading a doggie book, clutching her dee & little Elmo; Eli is showing me what skipping and galloping are; and Abby is among the missing...most likely in her room thinking about getting dressed for bed or maybe she's following directions and brushing her teeth.

Hans sadly commented some years ago how disappointed he was to realize his wrists are too small for him to be a sword fighter in the fourteenth century. As this information came completely out of the blue and with obvious distress on his part, I was very confused as to what I missed. How does one respond to this sort of statement? Seriously?