Kindergarten? Already?!

Our oldest child is no longer a preschooler. I can't believe it. He starts Kindergarten on Monday and he's really excited. His backpack is all packed with glue sticks, scissors and folders and his school t-shirts are ready for the first week of school.

I feel really good about his school and his teacher. She is so sweet and loving. Just what KID 1 needs after a rather rough, stressful summer. And it just so happens I taught with her before I had kids, my mom taught at the same school, and my mother-in-law taught with her many years ago in Frostproof! I also graduated with her son. It's uncanny, really, that we have so many little connections with this teacher. I'm beginning to think it was God's way of smoothing this transition and easing my anxiety.

His classroom is bright and organized, inviting children to step in and find an activity. The school is welcoming, full of happy, energized teachers and administrators, and just around the lake from our house. I look forward to getting involved and volunteering on campus.

I know our son is ready for this new world of backpacks, new friends, reading, writing, and 'rithmatic. He will now spend the majority of his waking hours away from us, learning and growing in ways we may not even realize, for the next thirteen years. I'm not entirely sure that I'm ready for this.

For those of you who have seen your babies off to school, how well did you do on the first day? Was it hard to watch them walk down the sidewalk, dwarfed by their backpack and the older students striding confidently to their classrooms, knowing that this is just the beginning of your child's life away from you?

VBS

Last week I volunteered at V.B.S (Vacation Bible School) at our church. I help run the preschool group and I am the "crazy skit lady" at the beginning of the day. Our theme this year was Crocodile Dock (swamp theme) I was Firefly Fawnda, each day I would introduce the bible point of the day by acting silly (most days it was by pretending to eat worms!) I also got to tell the preschoolers the bible story of the day. This year the bible stories were about Moses leading his people out of Egypt. It was a total blast!

As a kid, I LOVED VBS! It was so fun learning all the songs, making the crafts. making new friends. I am pretty sure that our mom signed us up for more than one VBS each summer and we thought it was because she loved us so much (now I know it is because she would get a little morning break!) I can still remember some of the songs that we would sing at our VBS's. I also remember when I became too old to attend VBS I couldn't wait to volunteer at it! It was THE thing to look forward to all summer!

Now that I am a mom, I still love it. I am so glad that I am able to volunteer at it each year. It is so great to be part of teaching God's word and message to kids! Every day the kids were so excited to be there. Because I was up front I became a bit of a "local celebrity" all week kids would come up to me and say "Hi Firefly Fawnda!" and they often would give me hugs goodbye too. If that doesn't make you want to come back for more I don't know what does.

VBS lets me channel to kid in me, unfortunately I live in an adult body that gets very tired! At the end the week I was glad that it was ONLY one week long, but we are already planning for next year!

Replaced by a Younger Woman

Until just this week, our son has always declared that when he grows up, he wants to marry his mommy. Despite the Oedipal implications, I've always secretly been flattered by his innocent wish. I kind of enjoyed being his "dream girl." But I knew it wouldn't last.

He met a new "friend" this week at Wee Woozles and is totally smitten! He came home and declared his love for Lilly, then began making her pictures, cards, and even play money. He hopes to get back to the craft shop so he can make her a leather bracelet with her name on it to match his own...apparently even 5 year-old boys have good instincts when it comes to wooing women! He says he realizes it's still very early, but he has a good feeling he will marry Lilly some day.

We, as most of you know, are from Florida. Lilly, unfortunately, lives in California. It might as well be Siberia as far as 5 year-olds are concerned. I don't have the heart to tell him that the vast majority of long-distance relationships just don't work out. They'll have to figure that out for themselves.

In the meantime, I'm just so glad that he's found a good friend here. It's taken him all summer to find one, and he's been missing his Florida friends desperately. Maybe I should suggest an ice cream date. He's been saving his ice cream money all summer, so he could buy. What girl could resist a sweet deal like that?

Dealing with Death

Pop Pop passed away on Sunday morning this week after a long decline this year. He and Grammy made it to their favorite place on Earth, Silver Bay, NY, and have lived with us for the past month. This enabled us to help take care of Pop Pop, which was a whole family affair. Our two children (ages 5 and 2) helped get Pop Pop up in the morning and put him to bed at night, raising his bed and moving his wheelchair into place. They brought him water, his hat, clean napkins and tissues, and anything else they could think of that Pop Pop could possibly need. They helped lift his feet onto his wheelchair footrests when he couldn't lift them himself and assisted with pushing the chair wherever we went. Most importantly, these two enthusiastic caregivers provided endless entertainment for Pop Pop every single day. Singing, dancing, telling stories about their day at Wee Woozles (camp), helping build fires in the fireplace (Pop Pop loved a good fire), and generally being happy preschoolers.

Needless to say, losing Pop Pop was very, very hard for them. Our 5 1/2 year-old understood the permanence of death, so he was absolutely devastated. Our 2 1/2 year-old does not understand, of course, and so keeps asking when Pop Pop will come back from Heaven. A friend asked if my husband has been able to process his father's death at all, and the answer is, "Yes and no." We have to process it over and over again with the kids, answering each heartfelt question as simply and faithfully as we can. We are reading lots of books about death written for preschoolers, which was really hard at the beginning of the week, but gets easier as time passes.

Our son will say, out of the blue, "Mommy, I don't ever want you, or Daddy, or (Sister), or me to ever, ever die." How can I argue with that? Life is beautiful and sometimes I feel the same way about death. I just take his comments thoughtfully and talk with him about all the good, fun things we do and how much we enjoy God's amazing creation all around us.

It's been a hard week. This is a big change. Their little world was rocked off its axis when their Pop Pop died. Sticking to their familiar schedule and spending lots of time together is helping to stabilize them, and hopefully, by the end of the summer, their hearts will have healed enough to then go home and handle the death of our beloved golden retriever, Toby, who has lymphoma.

This summer is teaching us about loss, but also about love and the strength of family ties. I thank God for great friends and family, and for our wonderful spiritual leaders who are supporting us each step of the way. One called from Wales when he heard of our loss. Another is retired, but took the time to call my mother-in-law and extend his sympathies. Our chaplain here at Silver Bay has visited, helped make arrangements, and made a trip to a library to find us books about death to share with the children. Friends have sent cards, emails, and even hams. We certainly don't lack for support and love!

Green Acres is the Place for Me?????

Last week our family traveled even further north to visit a school that would hopefully hire my husband. I have been asking him for the last several months to find a school near a big town for me and Alex. My wish list includes a mall, a Target, and a Starbucks, and finally, the new town MUST have a CVS. At the same time, I have been asking God for a safe place to raise our son and for the courage to go where He sends us.

The nearest town to this new school is Biggsville, which I thought was a good sign. The high school also has about 350 kids, which is about three times bigger than the town we left before our one-year working vacation in the sun. I thought for sure the town would have around 3,000 people and a small grocery store, maybe even a gas station with a Subway. When we drove into Biggsville, we were greeted by the sign: Biggsville - Population 350. I truly started to panic. If this is Biggsville, how big are the other towns? I didn't see any sidewalks when we drove by. Where do the people walk? More importantly, how do they entertain preschoolers?

Alex and I had some time to explore the potential new town, but I could tell that would only take two minutes as we drove back through with nowhere to go. I tried to call my mom to ask for advice, but I couldn't reach her. Alex decided to fall asleep, so I was left alone in my panic. I began to beg God to reopen doors that had closed, and then I started praying again for courage to do what he asked of me. I also started to pray for great success in my husband's next interview as it was my new first choice.

Later that night, three men from the school took us out for dinner, so we could discuss the job more. "How cold does it get in the winter?", I asked. They paused suspiciously, "Well, December isn't too bad. We usually only have about six weeks of really cold weather starting in January, but it's not as cold as Chicago."

In the next few days, I began to warm up to the idea of a cold winter. We picked up a brochure from the next biggest town (in Iowa!), and it looks really nice. It has a Target with a Starbucks, a Kohls, and a library with a coffee shop.

Somehow, I had forgotten that I grew up in Cooks Mills - Population 150. We didn't have sidewalks or even a school. I rode the bus to our school in another small town. Our entertainment included riding bikes, swinging, jumping rope and going down to the river. We had the run of the town, and we were safe. Some of my best memories came from hanging out by the flag pole in front of our fire station or inside Lola's General Store/Post Office/Coffee Shop (black coffee only - this was before mocha's and lattes). I don't know how I forgot that I am a country girl at heart. I also remembered that my husband grew up in a small town. It worked for us and John Mellencamp. Maybe small town life is what will keep my Alex safe growing up, and that is the top item on my wish list.

Because That's the Rule!

It's funny how we "make a rule" for the things we know we want to stick to. Karly's post and the comments that followed it got me thinking about how and why we make rules. Sometimes our motivation is practical: "Last one out shuts the gate!" Sometimes it's for their safety: "Always wear your helmet when you ride your bike or scooter." Sometimes it's for our sanity: "If you're both going to sing, sing the same song!" And sometimes it's purely self-serving, which in the long-run serves the family: "Mommy needs privacy in the bathroom!"

When we actually say with authority that it's a rule, our kids know we feel it's important. Kids appreciate boundaries. They like to know what we expect of them.

That brings me to the subject of consequences. Beyond the baby and early toddler years, natural consequences are fair and appropriate. It's not fair to implement consequences for a behavior if they've never been warned about it before. That also applies to positive consequences. If there is a reward to be earned, they need to know how they can earn it or lose it before they enter a situation. "Kids who stay right with Mommy in the grocery store get a cookie in the bakery when we're done!" If it's a new rule we are trying to establish, they usually want to know why we need the rule. I don't mind telling them the brief reasoning behind it ("to keep you safe"). It helps them make sense of it and to know that we have their best interests in mind.

Dr. Spock says that we should "avoid threats as much as possible. They tend to weaken discipline. It may sound reasonable to say, "If you don't keep out of the street with your bicycle, I'll take it away." But in a sense, a threat is a dare--it admits that the child may disobey. It should impress him more to be firmly told he must keep out of the street, if he knows from experience that his parents mean what they say. On the other hand, if you see that you may have to impose a drastic penalty like taking away a beloved bike for a few days, it's better to give fair warning. It certainly is silly, and quickly destroys all a parent's authority, to make threats that aren't ever carried out or that can't be carried out. "

Now, when I read the threat he gave as an example, my teacher alarm bells started ringing. Both parts of the statement are very negative. Instead of saying, "If you don't keep out of the street with your bicycle, I'll take it away," it would be better with a positive slant: "Keep your bike on the driveway or you'll have to park it." I remember reading somewhere that you don't want to make every consequence something that you'll do to them. Rather, you put the ball in their court and make their consequences something they choose for themselves with their poor choices. "Keep your hands to yourself, or you'll have to sit on time out."

I'm not saying I have this discipline thing down pat, but these are the things I try to keep in mind when I'm dealing with kid behaviors I don't like. What are some of your indisputable family rules?

Brotherly Love

I had a "moment" right after Micah was born. He was about 5 days old and my parents were here and someone (Todd, my dad, my mom, I don't remember) told me to go to bed early and they would wake me up when Micah needed to nurse again. I was utterly exhausted. As soon as I got to bed I heard Ethan crying so I went in to check on him. He just needed attention, so we rocked for a while and I got really sad, thinking that his whole identity had just changed, that now he had to share his parents, his mother especially. This thought, along with exhaustion and postpartum hormones, set me to bawling.
I am an only child and I don't entirely understand the sibling dynamic, but from my observations of others, I have decided that having siblings is a character-building exercise. I also think it can be a lot of fun and comfort. I am glad my boys have each other, even though they fight more and more every day. Sometimes I don't know how to handle the fighting. Ethan is older and bigger so I find myself getting on to him more than I do Micah. Although, sometimes Micah just needs to leave him alone and stop taking his toys, Kitty, drink, spoon, breakfast, etc. Most of the sources I've read say that most of the time I should stay out of it and let them figure it out on their own, so I've been doing that more since Micah has gotten bigger and older and more able to defend himself.
I want my boys to be buddies. I want them to love each other and be close. I know they won't always get along and there might be years where all they do is argue, but my prayer is that they will grow into lifelong friends. For now, though, I'll share with you a story that gives me comfort.
The other night Micah hit Ethan square in the face with a shovel. I could tell it hurt and so could Todd, so he took Micah and put him in the Pack'n Play for his first official time-out. We even set the microwave timer (1 minute because he's 1 year old). He was crushed. He cried that "hurt feelings" cry for the entire minute. What was funny was that Ethan was pretty ticked off when Micah hit him, but when Daddy put Micah in time-out, he freaked. He started bawling, too. "My baby! My baby!" "It's okay, honey. Micah made a bad choice so Daddy put him in time-out." "My baby! I want my baby!" Todd had to pick him up and hold him for the duration of Micah's time-out. Later, when Ethan was put in time-out, Micah walked over to him and gave him a hug. They just stood there and held each other for a while.
Like I said, this incident made me feel better about my boys' relationship. I know most of you have siblings. Any advice or funny stories you can share?

Simple Pleasures

Sorry for the extremely late post, but it's been an extremely long and tiring day! I had the pleasure of spending my day with lots of children, ages preschool through elementary age, talking about the things we celebrate and that make us joyful.

Then we wrote some of these things on palm leaves (strips of green paper) and glued them to our palm branches (wide craft sticks), symbolic of the palm branches people waved in honor and celebration of Jesus on his way into the city. Some of the children's celebrations were:

• Jesus
• birthdays
• Easter
• my mommy
• my daddy
• my family
• friends
• Christmas
• communion (cumyoonyun, I believe, was the orig. spelling)
• good behavior
• God
• The Holy Spirit

There it is, simple as can be. All from the mouths of babes!

Happy Easter!

Dollhouse Horror Flick In the Making: Why it's good to let boys play with dollhouses

I fear our daughter will never play with dolls the way most little girls do...not with her big brother modeling such interesting scenarios as this, the ultimate clash of Christmas presents:





And the close up:

Yikes!

Ch-ch-ch-changes

This morning was a monumental one in our household. Our adorable little two-year-old son used the potty for the first time. He really used it. There was cheering, congratulating, sticker-ing, and even picture taking (Yeah, I know--I never would have done this had I not seen Kate Gosselin do it on her show. I thought it was disgusting when she did it, but I guess we can just add this to the list of how much of a hypocrite I've become since I became a mom...)

But here's the thing. If I'm truly honest I have to admit...I'm terrified of this new milestone. Things are changing around here, and I'm not big on change.

I know that the end result of potty training will be cheaper, but I'm sure we'll find something else to spend our once-allocated-for-diapers money on. It will probably be less work for me since I will eventually become a less integral part of the whole process once the diaper changing days are over, but what will I spend my time doing then? Is this the point where I get to start eating bonbons and watching soap operas? I'm up for more candy, but soap operas get boring after a while. Is he going to stop needing me now? Potty training today, off to college tomorrow...time is just flying by and I don't know what to do!

(taking a breath)

All right, sorry about that. I guess it's just that this morning was a clear example of something I've known for a while but have wanted to avoid. He's growing up and he won't always be the charming little guy he is now. He went to bed last night having never used the potty, and he woke up this morning a potty-goer. He will absolutely be a charming bigger guy, and then an even more charming even bigger guy, but I will always remember these days of new words and first times with fondness.

So, I'm going to spend this Sunday afternoon with our little guy, celebrating his successes, mending his boo boos, and thinking about today. And changing his diapers, if only for a little while longer.

Ah, childhood...

I honestly thought I was getting the hang of this parenting thing. I was even starting to feel like I was becoming a fairly decent mom, if not a little motley. This week, however, I have encountered a whole new dimension to this childhood thing--I believe it's called "sibling rivalry."

Now, before those of you who know me start panicking thinking that I have acquired a new child on my little road trip, I'm talking about my son's relationship with his cousin. No, they are not really siblings, but they are as close as either is going to get for a little while. My nephew has just turned three, and this is the first time he and my just-turned-two year old son have been in the same place since last Christmas.

Both of these boys are adorable, precious little human beings with such generous personalities when they are by themselves, but visiting my parents this week has opened up an enormous can of worms for their developing minds--they have discovered that indeed, each is not the only grandson, and that is not setting well with either of them.

The initial confrontation went something like this:

(Both boys are strapped in their car seats, laughing and giggling, on the way to the pumpkin patch.)

Nephew: Are we going to see Papa when we get home? (Nephew excitedly asks.)

Son: (Recognizing the word "Papa") My Papa!

Nephew: (Responding in an educational manner) No, he's MY Papa.

Son: (Sensing a reaction) MYYYY Papa!

Nephew: (Whining) NANA! He said he's his Papa, but he's MYYYYYYY Papa!

Son: (Loving the reaction) MYYYYYYYYYYYY Papa!

Nephew: Waaaahhh! He's MYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY Papa!!!!!

Son: (Loud squeal, slaps at nephew)

Nephew: Waaaaahhhhh! He hit me!!!

Son: (Pointing to nephew innocently) Mommy, [He's] crying!!!

This little exchange continued for the rest of the journey with various other things substituted for "Papa"--they contested the possession of Nana, both Mommies, apples, pumpkins, and of course, the moon (no kidding). There have been lots of laughs and fun times this week, but those have been accompanied by quite a few slaps and cries as well. They may have a confrontation and then be begging to take a bath together five minutes later, so it's been a little confusing.

I remember that as a little girl my sister and I fought quite a bit, and at least we don't really walk around slapping each other now, so surely they will grow out of this. For the moment, though, it's been quite a struggle to keep up with their mood swings. Honestly, sometimes it's hard to keep a straight face, too (especially during the "moon" disagreement). I guess it's just something to put in the "For Future Family Reunions" conversation file for use when they are in high school and are in need of some embarrassing childhood stories.

Have a Phenoneum Day

"Mommy, I'm gonna try with all my heart and all my muscles

to be a good boy and have a phenoneum day."

Me, too, buddy. Me, too.

The Best Years

I am enjoying the best years of my life so far. I have a husband who loves being a family man, I have great friends, a supportive church family, and I LOVE being a mom. I'm not saying life is easy with two preschoolers and one income, but it is definitely good. Especially when I compare it to the years that led me here.

Let's face it: growing up is hard. Being a kid is not as great as we romanticize it to be. It's certainly not "sugar and spice and everything nice," as the saying goes. I remember it being pretty hard work. I went to four different elementary schools, so making friends (and keeping them) was challenging. Remember how mean some little girls in school were? I do.

Believe it or not, as a kid, I was a bit shy. I was always kind to everyone, and my mom remembers that I never laid a hand on another kid. In 4th, 5th, AND 6th grades (all three were different schools), three different girls tried to pick a fight with me. I refused to hit back. I remember thinking, in all of those instances, "Why me? What did I ever do to you?"

The answer is: Nothing. I doubt any of them could have answered that question, had it been posed to them at the time. They were just angry girls. All three were class bullies. By the time the girl in 6th grade tried to pick a fight with me (in the girls' locker room), I had learned to deflect such attentions with big talk and good posture. This girl was known as a fighter and just loved getting up in other girls' faces to intimidate them. She had her finger thrust in my face, talking junk, trying to start something with me.

I was absolutely quaking, but I stood up really tall (I was much taller than her), looked her right in the eye, and said, with surprising strength, "Get your finger out of my face. I really don't want to fight you."

She walked away. I thought I would throw up.

That was the end of girls trying to fight me, but making and keeping friends still didn't get any easier. High school brought its share of social challenges and the added pressures of "dating." I managed to steer clear of a lot of that, mostly because my mom just didn't allow me to date until I was sixteen, and then because I got really involved in community theater. This passion swallowed me whole!

College was a whirlwind for me, with no time for friends. When Paul and I got married, we hadn't been back in our hometown for a full year, and I had spent all of that time in my first teaching position and planning a wedding. I didn't have much time to socialize. My sisters were my bridesmaids. I had lost contact with my high school friends and really didn't get into the social scene of college. I worked through college and went to class. That pretty much consumed me.

Now, I am enjoying the best friends I have ever known in my life. My friends are mostly all moms with kids the same age as my kids. We're all on the same roller coaster ride, which gives us plenty to talk about! These are easy, natural friendships, and we enjoy watching our children form friendships that will hopefully last a long time. Maybe it will be easier for them...maybe.

The learning curve you're on as a kid is unparalleled to any other time in your life. The only thing that comes close to that learning curve (so far) is becoming a parent. We have a tendency to see more clearly in hindsight, so the fact that I can say, without a doubt and with crystal clear vision, that these are the BEST years yet...that's pretty powerful!

Smile...

"Peace begins with a smile."

The church down the street from where I live has posted this idea on their welcome sign for a few weeks now. I have noticed it many times, but I never really thought about it until I reflected on our trips to the grocery store.

Grocery store outings are not always the most peaceful events of our day, but once we have "debated" the necessity of my son sitting in the cart rather than running along side it, pushing it, and filling it, we are usually ready for the business at hand. After accepting his sitting duty, my Little Guy likes to wave at people from his little perch in the cart. He waves and smiles, and sometimes people wave and smile back. Sometimes they don't, and I see a confused look cross his features. I try to explain to his almost two-year-old brain that not everyone smiles back, but that doesn't mean he shouldn't smile in the first place. (Silently I pray that this is not a lesson he will need to teach his own children, that their smiles will always be returned and valued.) Other times, he giggles to a fellow customer who looks a little down, and with his hearty hello the hardened facade melts from the worn face, and the corners of the down-turned mouth tug upward. And so we continue until our work is done, his and mine.

It's easy to slip into despair when we see all that goes on around us. I look down at the cart and see the big toothy grin that glows with optimism and hope. Peace begins with a smile. I wonder, what great things will he see and do?

The Wonder Horse

I find myself trying to recreate some of the adventures and activities that I loved as a child for my own children. I grew up on a horse farm. Now I live in the city. I love my house and my neighborhood, but I long to create some of the joys of farm life for my own kids. One thing I really loved, before I was allowed to ride a horse on my own, was my Wonder Horse. (My parents strategically placed the Wonder Horse here to make it look like it left something behind. Nice.)

You have seen them, plastic horses you could sit and "ride." I looked on eBay and they go for anywhere from $30 to $100, plus shipping. A little steep for an old plastic toy.

Then one day, while poking around the local flea market, I found one! A Wonder Horse!!! It didn't have the metal frame. It was pretty rough looking, faded paint and scuffs from years of being ridden. The name alone made the $2 I paid for it a steal! I wasn't sure what I would do with it but I had what I coveted, the Wonder Horse!

THE Princess asked me a few days later, after I had washed the Wonder Horse, if it was from a merry-go-round and that got me thinking! The next week I scoured the flea market for a simple but working floor lamp. I found an old brass one without a shade for $1, it was perfect!!

I went home and told my husband, RM, what I was envisioning. He promptly mounted the Wonder Horse on the lamp to make it look like a carousel horse, made sure that the wiring was working and safe, ran some sandpaper over it and handed it over to me.

I ran to the WalMarts and got an 88 cent can of latex spray paint in off white, taped off the metal lamp workings and cord, and went to work. I custom painted the Wonder Horse in colors that THE Princess loved and gave it clear coat. I was stumped about what to do for a shade, they were more expensive, even at the WalMarts, than I had paid for everything else. A couple weeks later my problem solved itself. I found flowery shades at Big Lots for $2 each. Sweet.

Now THE Princess enjoys her own Wonder Horse, albeit in a different way.




And I'm not calling our Wonder Horse old, it's 'retro' people. I'm always trying to be on the cutting edge of style!

Now, any ideas about how I can recreate this????