Something must Give-

"Finding the time to be alone with your child, giving them all your attention for an extended period of time, is one of the most difficult aspects of parenting. We must a pay price to make it happen," Ross Greene "How to Really Love Your Child"

After our trip to the Hot Chocolate Cafe, I wondered if that kind of connected morning was a fluke- maybe everyone woke up on the right side of the bed that day or had a really good breakfast. Next time we could easily wind up in FightCity or SuperBoringLand.
But so far, when I can get the right balance by staying engaged and giving the boys ownership, a magic couple of hours results. The other day Caleb and Julian, spurred by our friends' recent fishing trip, took us to the "aquarium". They caught little toys floating in basins with clothes hangers before we bounced on some beds. The next day popcorn came up in conversation; we took the lid off the popper and measured the kernels out in a tablespoon we passed around the circle so everyone had a turn. Afterwards they ate their treat in the "magic cave" before heading outside for lunch.


Making a plan ahead of time is useless; sparked by something we read in book or a conversation floating in my boys' heads the destination surprises us all that very morning. Since learning kids are often happiest at this age developing their creativity and imagination, I've felt so freed to play with simple household items and make them into whatever we want. They came up with the idea for the "fish" (random little piecey toys), the "aquariums" (plastic toy basins) and the "cave" (a spot behind the piano.) Their ownership really has resulted in happy play and less pressure for me to keep them entertained.

I'm tempted to say that I'm noticing far less outbursts, especially in one son, but I haven't been tracking that accurately so I can't say for sure. I'm tempted to say the amount of inter-sibling rivalry is going down, but that might be idealistic; all that time together may actually be making it worse. What I can say for sure is that I feel closer to my kids and I can tell they feel closer to me, and that some quiet place in my heart tells me that my kids need this right now.
In order to find time for uninterrupted play a few times a week and keep up with the business of life something had to give. As I thought about what that could be while knowing what it was, a small part of me hesitated. It felt like I've already given so much. My national daytime Emmy sits on top of the piano collecting dust. I won it when I was 28; while I wasn't the most talented editor on the team, my age and responsibilities were significant. Sometimes my mind wanders to the six-figure salary I was pulling in then and all the things it could buy my kids now if it was back- a top-notch preschool, a beautiful home in this beautiful place. Mother Theresa said it's much harder to care for those in our homes than those far away. We can care for those far away with food and physical things, those at home we have to care for with love, something internal that must be renewed daily. Love is hard to come by when you feel stressed all the time. I've decided to slash my 2 day/wk work schedule back, leaving the kids with child care help just two afternoons a week instead of four. I can't think of any other way to make this happen. In the myriad of situations and factors life offers, I know this decision isn't right for everyone, but it feels right for us right now. While part of me thinks it's insane to set aside very good earning power so I can catch floating baubles with coat hangers, another, more gentle part of me knows that is exactly what my kids need right now. I may or may not find myself with more time later; that's a gift I will gratefully accept if it comes.
Today when my four boys were happily and non-contentiously eating their popcorn together they invited me over. Knowing these years of magic caves and wanting mom around are numbered, I set aside a project I picked up during their independent moment. Earlier I had sprinkled a couple chocolate chips into the popcorn, all of which had vanished immediately. As we neared the bottom of the bowl a last chip was spotted. Caleb snatched it quickly. Just as he was about to eat it, he paused as he looked at me. "Here you go, mom," he said as he gently put it in my hand. His sweet offering wasn't given without some small awareness of sacrifice, maybe his own and mine, came straight from the heart and touched me deeply. I don't mind what I might have to give to see this little boy with a filled heart every day of his life.

The more time I spend, though, the more I see how much I have to learn, how much I struggle to keep my patience and manage my anger as well as my kids'. And how do I balance the development of their creativity with learning their letters and things all the other kids are doing? Although I still have lots more to cover in my new readings, I recently ordered another 12 books, including a book about Anger and Patience by the Dalai Lama. More on that later...

Hang on- We're Going... Somewhere

"Without my intense dislike for housework, this book never would have been written. I find it easier to have my kids out exploring than to stay home and clean up after them." Shelley-Anne Wooderson-Los Angeles by Stroller

By being less bossy with my kids, but also engaging with them more instead of getting swallowed into my own world, it's been easier to be at home. It's almost like we're going on a trip. We all get in the car, but I make myself comfortable in the passenger seat, guiding and supporting and maybe navigating a bit. The four year olds are at the wheel, taking us all to some very interesting places.
Take, for instance, our little jaunt last week. That morning heavy clouds glowered and Caleb and Julian were wanting to go to Starbucks. Since we didn't know if it might rain (and I didn't want to go), I nudged them in a different direction and somehow, after a few minutes of me trying very hard not to take over completely, the boys decided to make hot chocolate at home.

My sous-chefs helped me bring all of the ingredients to the table and everyone got a turn mixing and measuring; despite only having 4 ingredients we took our time. While letting each little hand put in a tablespoon of cocoa was time consuming, what was the rush? The slow pace steered us quite nicely and kept everyone happy.
We mixed everything up and put the pot on the stove. I pulled out some applesauce and crackers. We ate and played peekaboo while the milk slowly warmed. I realized that it almost didn't matter terribly what we were doing when I was trying to make time with my boys just as long as we were together and an atmosphere of no-fights prevailed.

When the chocolate was done the big boys served us. They pulled some newspapers onto the table. It felt like we had found our own little cafe! I asked the boys what the name of our cafe was. 'The Hot Chocolate Cafe!" said Julian. Everybody laughed at that. The babies didn't really get it, but they squealed with glee anyways. After awhile I suggested we make some menus. On the newspaper they started writing "lists" of all the things they "needed for the cafe". They giggled and scribbled for nearly ten minutes. Included were: macaroni, cars, Buzz Light Year, apples, spoons, yo yos, jelly beans, chocolate and hot chocolate. I didn't write anything, I didn't even try to correct Caleb's pen-holding. But I did pull out our "cafe" sign and had them help me read it. We drank and drank all the hot chocolate until it was gone, and then everyone went down for naps/quiet time.



I've never been to the Hot Chocolate cafe before. It's not on any map and I don't think any of us knew it existed before we dredged it up. I can't say we'll ever find it again, but I'm sure glad I let them steer us along to its cozy little corners.
On the other hand, another trip that afternoon wasn't quite as successful. I had stupidly ditched out of the passenger seat. The boys kept steering but without my input we all found ourselves in Crackertown.

This doesn't even do justice to the disgusting mess of ground up crumbs scattered all over the house. Enlisting help made it worse. It took me way too long to clean it up.
When I let them drive, it's usually messy, whether or not I'm around. Even at the Hot Chocolate cafe the janitor apparently didn't show up for duty so I had to fill in. Messes can be frustrating, but I don't want to throw the baby out with the bathwater. We all feel better when my kids get real, full access to me for a long stretch of time when they're invested in the play and I'm not trying to duck off.
The summer before I gave birth to Caleb and Julian I visited Morocco, Spain, England and Italy. Looking back, those trips were really wonderful. They opened my eyes, they helped me understand our world better. But in a couple ways, they're right on par with a trip to the Hot Chocolate Cafe. The exhilarating feeling of discovering something new and the tingly excitement that comes with it was reflected in all the shining eyes of my boys, and me I might add. However, I don't ever recommend a trip to that crappy joint called Crackertown. But how to avoid those stinky places? We shall see... ;)

the Shut-ins

"A child who doesn't experience leisure-or better yet, boredom-will always be looking for external stimulation, activity, or entertainment," Kim John Payne, Simplicity Parenting

Last week I tried very hard to take a hold of my mortal fear of being home alone with my 2x2 household and show it just who exactly is boss around here. Usually once I get everyone ready for the day we're out like a shot to GET somewhere or meet someone before the first whine pierces my eardrums. It keeps me sane. But in order to be more connected to my kids, I wondered if too many activities was getting in the way of that. So last week we stayed home all morning and/or all afternoon.
Every Day.
My husband, who noticed the massive change in our schedule, asked why we had turned into shut-ins.
It was very enlightening, I found a number of things I can do better for my particular situation if I want more peace in my home.
The first thing I noticed is that I need to avoid being too hands-off, (ie. distracted or in my own world of phone calls, email and projects-more on that later) or too hands-on with my kids. I don't mean to be a nosy old know-it-all, but I find it hard to hold back, to allow my kids to "bring more of themselves to the engagement," as recommended by Kim John Payne in his masterful Simplicity Parenting. "When we don't try to fill children's minds and toy chests with prefabricated examples of "imagination," they have more freedom to forge their own, to bring their own ideas into play."
See here's what I do. Caleb finds a beautiful classic leather book (Tom Sawyer incidentally) and brings it over to me. "Look! A cookbook!" Me: "Oh yes! Let's see, there's a recipe in here for Muffins! Let's pretend to make those, these can be the eggs, oh and look it calls for cinnamon..." All I want to do is feed him imaginative ideas and get his little brain spinning. But his imagination isn't getting engaged and until that happens he can't play happily. So, biting back the words that come so naturally, I say "oh, what's in the cookbook?" after a pause: "Recipes" "What kind of recipes?" another pause: "Cranberry juice pie" That's better than lame-o muffins, glad I kept quiet! After I get him started he's out gathering supplies. My input, which started out minimally, tapers and he gets into a peaceful world of play. No whining. No flailing frustration. The ensuing silence, however long it lasts, feels like a miracle. I want to bottle it and hang it on the wall.
the "pie"
Holding back a bit has been good for us in other ways. One of my children was desperate for tape. He had already used some and was yelling for more. Usually I hunt it up, thinking that this will bring more peace to our house. But actually, I'm learning that sometimes it exhausts us all. Payne also talks about countering kids' requests to be entertained or of wanting more with: "something else is right around the corner." He says, "Scarcity-that frustrating, "nothing to do" state-is like a hush in the crowd. Silence. What whispered voice can begin to be heard? The child's inner voice. Stand back. Anything can happen. By reaching for something to do, instead of always being scheduled or entertained, children get creative. They begin building a world of their own making." Sometimes I will need to get tape, but in this instance I kept saying "you'll need to find something else" over and over in a pleasant, firm voice until finally HE DID.
I don't like being at home because I often feel too many demands from my kids to keep them happy, or that it's not interesting or exciting enough, and ultimately, I'm not enough. While being at home all day everyday isn't healthy, there's a lot more to learn here than I thought. Ultimately, I found this final thought from Payne interesting, "Loading up a child's days with activities and events... can establish a reliance, a favoring of external stimulation over emotional or inner activity..." He wonders if it might sow seeds for addictive behavior- "an increasing and compulsive tendency to avoid pain or boredom."

a little Magic Please

"We find delight in the beauty and happiness of children that makes the heart too big for the body" Ralph Waldo Emerson

That last post was a bit dour and scary. When looking for rainbows I guess I'm going to see a lot of rain. In trying to be a better parent, or even just trying to be a parent at all, I'm challenged in ways that makes everything I went through to get pregnant look like a cakewalk. I've never done this before, I'll never get a chance to do it again, and I wish I had more answers. What I do have is a lot of faith that with some effort, love and patience the very power of the childhood years themselves will help me out a bit.
I was unprepared for the awe I feel over childhood. Magic is defined as the power to change the ordinary to the extraordinary by unexplained means, and by that definition childhood has to have the most magical of anything on earth. Many times I have seen children touch something very, very ordinary with their presence -hanging around by the tennis courts, chomping on a snack, finding a cardboard tube- and instantly the experience is deliciously hilarious, exciting, giggly. Curly ringlets bouncing up and down, sweet laughter like bells spilling over the sidewalk, little bodies shivering and shaking all over from happiness- and from what? Just life; plain, boring, unembellished life of the variety that would be hard pressed to crack a smile out of anyone else. It's touching. It's lovely. It's beautiful. A coordinator at a nursing home told me that just having children around was therapeutic for their seniors. Dostoyevsky said "the soul is healed by being with children."
I found this little quip in Wallace Stegner's immortal Angle of Repose : "Botanists tell us that the blossom is an evolution of the leaf- but they cannot say just why that particular bud should take from the same air and sunshine a fairer substance, a deeper color... and become something at which each passerby pauses, and goes on his way happier for the sight." On the sturdy stem of boring, daily, routine activities children can make the moment blossom with rich delight, exquisite pleasure, joyful and easy hearts, all fruitful ground for planting a lifetime of beautiful connection.
But the sweet spontaneity that transforms the leaf into a bud can also turn into a handful of crushed dust. In their excitement, kids can spill, break, stain, scrape and mess the moment; quite unintentionally for the most part, but still. The question to put to me is if I can keep the magic alive, the bud unwithered. To do this I must put a smile on my face, clear a path of safety, wipe and scrub and tidy, and then look in their eyes and smile again.
As I'm gearing up to build better bonds with my kids, maybe I need to be prepared to also become a magician.

Connecting the Dots

"Mothering does not just mean caring for; it also means caring about-recognizing each of our children as unique individuals and cherishing them just as they are," Katrina Kenison, Mitten Strings for God

In order to figure out what my kids are REALLY saying, thus avoiding explosive behavior and creating more harmony, I'm realizing that I need to strengthen our connection. My sister-in-law describes her 3yr old's behavior like a rope between them. When their connection is strong, he's good, when it breaks due to one thing or another... ooo boy. She's emotionally sensitive enough to feel these changes.
I have many obstacles when it comes to connecting with my kids on a satisfying, daily basis. First, I had a lot of them all at once. Maybe I can connect well with one or two, but it's tough to hit all four, especially my younger ones. Nursing helps with that, and when it's gone things change. Also, connecting is different than spending time together. I spend a lot of time with my kids, but at some point I started feeling that entertaining, educating, and enlightening them with all the skills they are going to need to do well in this world (socially, academically, fine motor, gross motor etc.) is a better use of time than just being together.
Activities that connect me with my kids are not the ones where I'm trying to make something happen- eat food, find shoes, learn letters, brush teeth, leave me alone so I can shower... Connecting activities are slow and gentle. They include a lot of eye contact. A lot of laughing together, they put a sparkle in my kids' eyes.
The problem is that with my 2x2 situation, the best way for me to connect with my kids is when we're at home with absolutely no distractions. But the other problem is that with my 2x2 situation I've been avoiding being at home alone because I feel there's too much chaos. My kids are stimulated and distracted when we attend events, so for the past two years I've scheduled multiple types of events for us to attend- meeting friends at their house, at the church, inviting friends over, going to preschool, doctor appointments etc. I literally try to have something scheduled pre and post afternoon naps, every single day.
These events are great and important, they're not the problem. The problem is that we're out of balance. When we're engaged in them I'm not able to connect with my kids. I'm usually chatting with friends, trying to make sure everyone stays in one piece, or herding. So 'connection time' gets squeezed in around bedtime or a few moments here and there. And as I'm reading about the kind of connection kids really need to weather the storms that will be hitting them in just a few short years. Frankly, I'm terrified.
Basically every parenting book that I'm reading right now talks about how strong, heartfelt connections between parents and children are increasingly rare in the face of technology usage, demanding work schedules, commuting schedules, homework requirements, and just the expectations of life today.
Kids have increasingly vanished behind a silent wall where their real friends and activities are completely unknown by their truly caring and involved parents. In the amazing book Childhood Unbound renowned parenting expert Dr. Ron Taffel went behind the silent wall to learn about the world that disconnected kids (which is, soberingly, most kids today) have created in an attempt to help them get out of it. What he saw literally made him go white. It's unlike anything any other generation has known, and it's in heartland USA, not just urban centers.
Raves, alcohol, drugs, tattoos, group sex in every possible permutation and location, extreme fighting in warehouses until someone becomes unconscious, cyberbullying, all by kids fourteen, thirteen, twelve... and the problem is when they start at these ages when brain development is at a sensitive stage they often become hopeless addicts and worse. He also has plenty of stories of make-out parties starting at nine, eight year olds saying "fuck you" or "what an asshole" when their parents ask them to turn off the TV and come for dinner... it's inextricably heartbreaking.
One of his basic premises is that parents need to engage with their kids when they're young. Otherwise, they become sad, then angry, then they just don't care. They vanish into their own universe, buttressed by texting, tweeting, and lying to their totally unsuspecting parents. Taffel says, "the hard truth is that parents love their children, but they do not create the time to pay direct, undivided, personal attention to them."
Yikes. At times, my kids do seem angry, but I do so much for them! Could trying harder to really connect with my kids on a daily basis bring more peace to our home now and side-step future land-mines? Taffel seems to think so.
to be continued... (this is all going to come together, I promise)

So, what are you REALLY Saying??

"If you don't understand the concerns that are fueling (outbursts), then those concerns won't get addressed and explosions will persist" Ross W. Greene

So in my pursuit of peace I'm trying to eliminate explosive outbursts from my kids (and, thus, me). Even if that's impossible, I have to try. I hate them! (the outbursts, not my kids) The basic premise of the highly recommended "Explosive Child" by Ross W. Greene is the reason an outburst occurs is that kids have a concern that isn't being addressed, and as it gets dismissed or ignored by the parent, who is trying to show the kid that they're in charge and their will must be obeyed, the frustration crescendos to out-of-control craziness. Sometimes timeouts help, but often timeouts add fuel to the fire because they even more aggressively ignore the concern. Instead of timeouts, Ross' solution is to gather information and try to get at the heart of the concern.
Using this "method" one of Greene's clients found out their kid fought about doing homework because they write slower than their ideas come out and got too frustrated. The parent was shocked; they thought their kid was just being a punk. Another found out that their kid fought with them about getting on the school bus because someone always hit them, another that their kid didn't want to turn off the video games because they didn't have any friends to play with. You'd think kids would just say this, but I think they don't know how. Some pretty powerful revelations can pop up when the "why" is discussed. Next, the parent respectfully shares their concerns ("well, I'm concerned that if you don't do your homework you're going to get further behind and won't write faster etc.") and then they work out a solution together that addresses both concerns.

As I'm trying to apply the principles of empathetically "gathering information" over an outburst or area of conflict, I've been surprised how sometimes it really does work. A few outbursts have been quelled around here with a good talk. But sometimes I just can't figure it out. Ross talks about how you really have to dig around and be patient; sometimes kids are speaking a different language.
Not surprising, they're kids. Most adults can't even communicate clearly.
For example, yesterday morning Caleb was having a cataclysmic meltdown because he wanted to watch a movie and I said no. He kept asking and asking and we reached outburst mode before I could blink.
So I knelt down and looked him right in the eye and asked him why he was getting so upset about not watching a movie.
His reply? "I just want to watch one right now" in a very high-pitched whine.
Aargh.... so unhelpful!! Why did he want to watch one right now? As a rule movies only come on in the afternoon for an hour during babies' naptime. He knows that. And Caleb never asks to watch movies. He can barely sit for five minutes when a movie is on.
I thought hard. That word "now" stuck with me. I thought back to what had happened that morning- nothing out of the ordinary. I thought back to what had happened yesterday. We are taking advantage of a free pre-k summer program Caleb qualifies for due to his cerebral palsy (which is very, very mild, my sister-in-law calls it "just a whiff") The summer program is great for me. I don't have to lift a finger. The bus comes right to our door to pick him up and drop him off and it lightens my load to have high energy Caleb entertained for a couple hours. Also, while I was nervous about sending him on the bus, he seemed to LOVE it. He was so excited to get downstairs and wait for it.
But when he came home yesterday he missed the naptime movie, which he normally couldn't care less about. Is that why he wanted to watch it now? It was almost time to go to school, come to think of it I had actually mentioned it in passing a few minutes before the eruption.
I took a shot in the dark- "do you not want to go to school?"
Immediately: No. Now I was asking the right question: "Why don't you want to go to school?" Caleb proceeded to tell me that it was too crowded, that he didn't like his teachers, that he didn't like being away from brother etc. etc. We talked about it and worked out a solution together. His outburst ended immediately. Instead of dragging him to timeout because he was arguing with me, we hugged.
His freak out had nothing to do with watching a movie, he was freaking out because he was overwhelmed with his school and he needed my help.
Good grief, what a heck of a lucky guess that stumbled me over in that direction! How on earth am I going to decipher what my kids concerns are each and every time outbursts occur if they say one thing and really mean something that exists in a different universe? But I'm so glad I figured it out- my little boy just doesn't have the words. He doesn't even have the ability to know he doesn't have the right words. He just has his frustration and his anxiety to communicate I'm not understanding him. If I had let him watch a movie I think he still would have been frustrated because that's not what he really wanted. I think most kids must feel like they're speaking a different language, and it's really hard for them when they can't communicate clearly; their frustrations build as they watch us get more and more irritated with them and even punish them. No wonder we get explosions. No wonder negative patterns develop. No wonder both of us wind up in tears. It breaks my heart to think of all the times my kids were trying to tell me something with all that crying and screaming- maybe all they needed to do was change their socks- and what did I do? I became a mindless barbarian, eager to maintain her deluded sense of power, swinging her babies into timeout and stomping off about how difficult THEY were, as they showered their pillows with their sorrow because they we couldn't communicate. What a heartless wench I am!
So now I just have to figure out how to pyschically decipher what they're saying in the future. So this never happens again.

Do I have too Many Toys, or Not Enough Toys and How Do I get my Kids to Play with Them?

There are so many places to start when it comes to bringing more peace to my home. One thing that I've been wondering about is how to get my kids to play better- or even just play for ten seconds without having to break up a fight. I've noticed for awhile that it seems like my kids aren't playing with their toys, or if they do it's not for very long. Thinking that good toys would help, I bought more - at Target, thrift stores, online sales, craigslist, etc. - spending carefully and trying to pick quality- so they would play happily. I also organized them better. I created a "toy library" where different toys would get rotated through and be "new" again. I made puzzle bags and got rid of toys that had been outgrown or were too challenging.

I noticed that my kids did play with them a little more after that. They went for old toys that were in new places and got excited about ones they hadn't seen in awhile. But in the end I still felt like my kids weren't getting into the "flow" of play, where their attention and imagination were captured for an extended period of time (as in longer than 2 minutes) and they weren't fighting or calling for me. They'd pull something out and quickly abandon it or they'd want me to "do it" so I'd wind up playing with it which seemed odd. Either way it always created chaos. I felt like I didn't have enough toys, or I was missing the right toys to capture their imagination. I'd look at preschool classrooms and see the shelves and shelves of toys they had. Maybe that's what it took- a big collection. But it didn't matter how much I'd buy, I never came much closer to creating a peaceful play atmosphere.
Something that's been coming up in several of the parenting books I'm reading is that too many toys overwhelm kids and actually make it harder for them to engage in play. In "Simplicity Parenting" Kim John Payne sites dramatic changes in normally developing kids and kids diagnosed with learning disabilities when the number of toys they have at home is significantly reduced to just a handful. While it's never been easier to overwhelm kids with toys with expert marketing, cheap, cheap costs and the fact they're even in gas stations now, according to him and others, a mountain of toys encourages behavior that is hyper, demanding, and "entitled."
I didn't believe we had a "mountain" on our hands, but I decided to get rid of some of our toys more ruthlessly than before. I gathered up the ones that they had outgrown over a year ago (rattles and other things I was holding onto for heavens knows why). That filled an entire garbage bag. I was shocked!! Then I gathered up the ones that were broken, poorly designed, or missing pieces that I hoped my kids would overlook and play with anyway. Another huge garbage bag. Then I gathered toys in good shape but weren't getting played with into the "toy library". Two huge garbage bags.

Immediately it felt good to have the stacks and clutter gone and to look in a box or on a shelf and see a solitary toy instead of a jumble. The changes in fighting and play were much more dramatic than my first attempt. My kids really did start playing with the toys they had for longer stretches. I saw them looking in boxes that no longer had anything in them, and keep playing with what they already pulled out.
Watching my kids play in a less cluttered environment has made me realize I've been expecting their toys to do all the work for them-I felt if they had just the right toy, or enough toys, then they'd really play happily. But what matters more then what toys kids have is HOW they engage with them. Payne says engaged play "is not in the things themselves, it is the force with which children move, imagine, and design with them." Having less- less toys, less expectations from me, and less input from toys has lead to some great discoveries...
to be continued

the Joke Is On Me

(Lindsay took this photo, I love it!!)
So I decided to try to unravel the mysteries of my parenthood experience by starting up a new blog with all sorts of goals and research and observations and earth-shattering, illustrious revelations...
Meanwhile, as I'm learning the ways of how to have a "garden sweet" in my home, all four boys are screaming at the top of their lungs and my poor husband is helplessly trying to keep them from tearing each other's heads off.
Talk about backfiring...
So while I scrapped the second blog idea, I did still want to create a mini-parenting project as an opportunity to learn some new things, get some feedback from all my dear friends (especially those who are leaving me or who have already left me as well as those who live far away!) as I try to create a more peaceful home and grapple with the 'amazing' aspects of childhood.
Just to be clear about the situation here, I'm not about to jump off the Empire State building (as one friend thought ;) But I do have kids who often don't do what I ask them to do, and sometimes they cry loudly about it and that gets my goat (and sometimes, demon-lady appears). Or, if I give them an answer they don't like, they cry, get upset, sometimes hit me. This happens. It's not debilitating, but I wonder if I can make it better. Scott Turansky said, "High hopes and idealistic goals are a part of every young family... An interesting transition takes place however, as families grow and mature. These same parents give up their positive vision in exchange for basic survival skills. They just want to get through the day. They can hardly wait for their child to go to kindergarten or high school and be out of the house." While I'm not quite there yet, I feel these words are all too true, and I've heard them from others.
I know what it feels like to have a peaceful, loving feeling in my home, because we had that at the beginning when we almost lost our little ones. It's absolutely amazing. And I think that childhood is amazing, not just as a teaching opportunity, but as a potential for magic, adventure, and connection. It's incredible, and it's short, and it's one of the most challenging, daily things I've ever lived through. But I believe that it's possible to get that peaceful feeling back in my home, maybe a different version of it because our kids and our situation is different, but some kind of version. So I'm going to be seeing trying out some of the things I'm reading and seeing if, indeed, it's possible.

Making a Parenting Project

“Live as you would have wished to live when you are dying” Christian Furchtegott Gellert


Our twin baby boys arrived at 26 weeks instead of 40, robbed of 35% of their gestation and placed at the knife’s edge of viability with a shot at a normal life. The list of disabilities and damages the doctors might likely find was heartbreaking. Death was not excluded, nor was it the worst thing. For the next 103 days while the hospital kept them and watched them, IV’ed them and operated on them, we waded through time like it was made of cement. Each day, each hour, each heartbeat of plastic incubator walls, xrays and brain scans washed us with worry and pain, but each tick inched us closer to the time they could come home. I would have given anything to have them away from the cables & monitors, the huge heavy hospital doors miles from our house. I wanted to envelop them in peace and quiet in our home forever.

That brush with death developed into a gift. When the boys were finally released, I was marveled by the heavenly feelings we felt after the happy union. They sent me floating on a cloud of joy that deepened over the weeks and months. I tickled, I laughed, I watched my husband hold and soothe our dear boys as I physically lived one of my favorite childhood songs “there is beauty all around, there is joy in every sound, roses bloom beneath our feet, all the earth’s a garden sweet, making life a bliss complete when there’s love at home.” Strangers consistently told me how calm, peaceful and patient I seemed for having twin babies. The care, love and joy I gave and received from my little babies as they grew through to their first and second birthdays was incredibly satisfying, soul-stilling, breathtaking. I wanted to make sure that this lasted forever.

The only constant is change, and due to a number of factors and an unbelievable journey I won’t get into here, two other little twin baby boys joined us at a much healthier gestation (34 weeks) two years after their brothers and, in comparison, sailed right home from the hospital although not without reminders of our first brush with death. We hired full-time help. We tightened our budget. We sang a lot of silly songs. We changed a lot of diapers. We got a lot of funny looks when we went out with our quad stroller. Amazingly, despite the growing workload and occasional outburst, I was still fairly calm, patient, in good control of my temper, and wanted to keep it that way.

But one day, when my boys were well into three and my babies were rounding over 18 months, I realized that things had shifted. I was yelling at my kids more. I frequently lost my patience, and even when I was calm it wasn’t the same loving gentleness I had before. Things I had skimmed over in parenting books were now coming to the forefront, again from Turansky: "First baby: You spend a good bit of every day just gazing at the baby. Second baby: You spend a bit of every day watching to be sure your older child isn't squeezing, poking, or hitting the baby. Third baby: You spend a little bit of each day hiding from the children." When my kids were fighting for their lives in the NICU I would have done anything for them, I had a dream of a beautiful, peaceful, happy home. OK, maybe it was unrealistic, and I don't want to give the impression that we were always fighting or screaming at each other. In fact, overall I think we still looked pretty happy, especially for having 2 sets of twins, but something has shifted. Things are harder. A LOT harder! And despite what I kept telling myself- they aren't going to get easier!!

So I've been researching tons of parenting books and came up with a bunch of things I'm working on now, when my kids are young, during this last year before they start school. I'm so excited about what I'm learning. I kind of started a new blog, but as I was working on it yesterday while Ian had four screaming children, I realized it wasn't helping my cause any. So, instead of being crazy, 'm just going to put up some posts about what I'm learning here and there, as I find time...

the DEMON is out

"Each child is an adventure into a better life - an opportunity to change the old pattern and make it new." Hubert Humphrey



Last week, I ordered fifty-three parenting books.
Caleb smashed my temple with a metal car when I was trying to get him to share with his brother and it hurt so much and I got so enraged... while nothing in particular happened, it just felt really, really ugly. This incident was not isolated, over the past few months a shrillness has crept into my voice with a frequency that wasn't there even six months ago.
When one of my children's wills butts up against my own and there's just the right mix of this and that on both sides- ah beware. They turn me into a crazy monster and afterwards make me wonder "Who was that person?" followed by a chilling "oh, I know her very well. She's my worst self. My Very. Worst. Self." Yes, she's my dark secret, like Mr. Rochester's ex-wife locked up in the attic. She doesn't get out that often, but when she does she Rages. She snarls, she snorts, her face contorts into scary, weird, grotesque expressions. She pulls her hair and gnashes her teeth. She throws things, she yells at people, she swears (does she ever have a sailor's mouth). She's a demon.
For obvious reasons, I find it very unsettling that the people I love the most, the sweetest, dearest, purest little precious children who giggle and laugh with me and make my heart burst with joy, they're the ones, yes, THEY'RE the culprits, that bring her out of me more frequently than anyone else in my adult life.
Also, these angelic creatures- THEY turn into slobbering, snarling demons too, even more then I do. Of course, this is to be expected. They're children, (er, right?) Recognize the little cherub cuddling with me earlier? Well, now he's hitting, biting and kicking me. And I'm not alone, this little quip from Ross Greene's "Explosive Child" made me feel better : "Amy's parents would ... inform her that a time-out was imminent. Amy would begin throwing things at her parents...would try to scratch and claw... spit on or bite or head-butt them. They would confine Amy to her room until she calmed down. Once locked in her room-when her parents were actually able to get her there- she would destroy anything she could get her hands on, including some of her favorite toys... including her mirror."
All because they asked her to brush her teeth. Yep. Just trying to keep her chompers from rotting out of her head.
Reading about Amy also showed me a glimpse of what may be as wills strengthen, patterns harden, life gets more complicated and stressful as responsibilities grow. I don't know if demon-lady or demon-child will ever be good-riddanced out of the attic, but I've decided there are some ways that I can batten the hatches a little better now, and in the future, so they can't get out. Too often.
Since my kids have developed from passive infants to children with a will all their own, my old tricks- hungry? bored? tired?- just don't work like they used to. The meltdowns seem to come as unbidden as rainfall and all I can do is watch, helplessly, as the storm unfurls on us both. But as I've read my stacks, it turns out I might be wrong. According to what I'm reading, they can be practically eliminated with the right tools in hand.
I've set a very bold goal to
ELIMINATE THE EXPLOSIONS.
When I first ordered all these parenting books and they started arriving faster than I could even open them, I wondered if I was over-reacting. The car smashing wasn't that bad, mild in the grand scheme of things. I have two sets of twins! Things are going to get hairy sometimes. But I've been learning sooo much it's kind of exciting. I've decided to post every other day about the big list of goals I've cooked up.
More next time...

Confessions of an (unwitting) Shoplifter

It started innocently enough. One day when I was in the Children's Place and the kids were going crazy I left with a tie in the bottom of the shopping cart, one that I didn't know was there and didn't pay for. When I saw it I knew I couldn't put it back right away. As exhausted and harried as any mother of 14 month old twins would be who had just spent over two hours and two hundred dollars shopping the best sale she had ever been exposed to (huge clearance plus an employee-friend's discount) I could barely lift my hand to put the key in the ignition, let alone load the kids back into their strollers and walk all the way back to the store. In retrospect I really should have found a way. But I just felt I couldn't. I resolved to bring the tie back next time I was there. Little did I know that "next time" wound up being about two years later, and needlessly to say, I had forgotten all about the tie (which was too big and tucked away somewhere).
But a month after the Children's Place incident "we" shoplifted again, this time at Target. The little munchkins slipped something into the shopping cart and I didn't see when I put everything on the conveyor belt. It was a Cover girl foundation, SPF30, just my colour. I resolved to bring it back to Target, but since I go so rarely it wound up kicking around in my bathroom. One day I opened it and started using it.
If only I went back to these stores often it would be no problem, but running errands for me is inexplicably hard. I avoid them like the plague. I grocery shop every three weeks, I go to Target no more than a couple times a year. Once when we needed a bathtub toy container I just made one by drilling holes into the bottom of an empty plastic laundry box to avoid an errand. It was a turning point for me, and from then on whenever this little 'problem' would occur, this vulnerability created by too many kids, too many tasks, too little time, and a shopping cart with dark corners and shadowy basket edges, I'd make sure to return the shoplifted item immediately- in a clothing store I'd just chuck it on the first display shelf I found, at Target I brought it back to customer service. As hard as it was then, it was going to be impossible later.
But the bottle of foundation - I couldn't return that now. I'd broken the seal. And what if I did get questioned? What would I say? Would they believe it was unintentional or arrest me? I didn't have time or bandwidth to contemplate the dilemma between the doctors visits, therapy appointments, cerebral palsy hovering over us. I would have loved to correct the problem if I had the time and energy to do it. And then one day, the universe stepped in.
We were doing our bi-annual Target stop before hitting the library to make some returns. I had a few of the items in my purse, and, in helping me to load items from the cart to the conveyor belt, one of them had a barcode that got scanned even though it was clearly labeled as library material "High School Musical 2" (don't ask me why I had that dvd-it's too embarrassing ;) The total rang up around $16+tax. The cost of the foundation I had lifted plus interest.
I didn't find the blunder until later, but I faced the same problem. How was I going to find time to go back to the store and explain what had happened? Just as I was the unwilling benefactor of a pleasantry, I was now the unwilling benefactor of a penalty. Ah-ha! Justice! But miraculously, I didn't need to feel bad about paying for an empty barcode, I was spared the frustrations of the customer service line, because I owed them one.
Having two sets of twins through IVF has provided me with many ethical and moral dilemmas I never could have imagined, the least of which was shoplifting.
Now I better get that tie back to Children's Place before I get slapped with a heftiier late fee.