Musings of a Mom

I’m a fairly intelligent person (at least that’s what I tell myself) but the older Jack gets, the more I question my intelligence.

Communicating with my children was relatively easy when they were babies. I talked, they babbled and cooed. They cried and, depending on the sound of their cries, I fed, diapered, burped or soothed them. Jill had a toy that said the words: mommy, daddy, bottle, doggie and baby. “Baby” could be changed to say whatever we wanted and so we recorded “Jill.” Before Jill could speak she used the toy to communicate with us. She would press the buttons to say, “Mommy, Jill, milk.” She’s a pretty smart kid as far as we’re concerned.

As Jill grew, her interests and her vocabulary expanded. Holding conversations with her is generally easy. Once in a while she thinks she’s given you all of the information you need to answer a question and she gets frustrated when you don’t understand what she’s asking. Suddenly she’ll say something like, “Remember the other day? What color was that?” Somehow we’re supposed to know what “that” is because she’s explained it fully in her mind. Even with these confusing conversations, I still usually understand what language she’s speaking. When she was little I understood Polly doll. I knew who Ariel and Aurora were. Hey, I even knew who that Dora chick was. I still understand Jill, but then she hasn’t hit her teen years yet.

Jack is another story though. I am a woman. I was a little girl. While I had a tomboy side, I was never a boy. Therefore, I have had to employ my best acting skills to look like I understand when Jack talks. Our family only speaks English so imagine my surprise when my son started saying things like, “Mom, who do you like better, Makuta or Mata Nui?” (I have since learned that those are names of Bionicles which are Legos. I liked Legos as a kid but they were blocks then and didn’t have storylines and a language to learn!) Or “Guess which Star Wars guy this is?” Umm, Princess Leia? Darth Vader? Yes, I’ve watched the movies, but I haven’t earned my master’s degree in Star Wars and you try to identify a little Lego Star Wars guy!

I guess I should have expected this. When Jack was just a little guy he asked, “What’s your favorite dinosaur?” I answered, “I like the big one with the really long neck.” Jack asked, “Which one, the Brachiosaur or the Diplodocus?”

I’m learning but you can see by the look in Jack’s eyes that it takes a great deal of patience to explain things in terms I can understand. Luckily I’m a quick learner but it does make me wonder what subjects we’ll be covering in the future.

I would like to apologize to you if you’ve been patiently awaiting a blog from me.  I’ve been quite busy with the kids (which you would think would give me plenty to blog about) and work and something had to fall through the cracks.  I am hoping to post on a more regular basis but I make no promises.  While I enjoy writing and making people laugh (hopefully), my kids are my highest priority.  I do, however, love hearing from you.  Please comment and let me know that someone is reading.

Thank you,

Tammy

Last night Hubby and I took the kids to see the Easter Bunny. Jack and Jill were excited and were very cooperative in dressing nicely for the pictures they would be taking. We got to the mall and they were thrilled to see there were no other kids waiting in line to visit with the Easter bunny. They would get plenty of time to visit.

Once they sat down with E. Bunny the kids were suddenly at a loss for words. Since E. Bunny can’t speak, it was up to me to break the ice. I said, “Why don’t you tell Mr. Bunny how you’ve been?” Jill took a clue from the big whiskered one and kept her mouth shut.  Jack, on the other hand, felt a need to be truthful without sounding bad so he ventured to say, “I’ve been medium.” E. Bunny made a gesture that showed he was questioning the comment, but Jack just repeated, “I’ve been medium.” 

Hubby stepped into the act and said, “I hear that Santa and the Easter Bunny talk to each other and compare notes.” E. Bunny gave thumbs up to Hubby and so I pushed a bit and said, “Yeah, I hear they’re good friends.” This is where things get interesting. Now, I’m not trying to start any rumors, but the Easter Bunny indicated that he and Santa are doing so-so in the friend department. I had it on good authority that they were pretty close so I don’t know if they had a recent falling out or what.

Anyway, we managed to get a picture. Jill refused to show her teeth and Jack seemed determined to show every tooth in his mouth. The Easter Bunny kind of had a blank look. He must have been running over his to-do list in his mind.

Now all we have to do is find the Santa and Easter pictures from the last couple of years, trim them and dole them out to family who have been complaining about us never sending pictures. They might actually get the pictures this year.

Hubby and I decided to take the kids up to the snow for a weekend getaway. We pulled the snow gear down from the attic to see what fit whom and what needed to be replaced. Amazingly, my stuff fit, but then I didn’t try on my snow pants and, of course, my husband’s gear fit. The kids’ gear was the real question.

Jill’s boots still fit as we got them a little big last year. Her gloves were a bit snug, but would work for this one more trip. Last but not least, there’s Jack’s stuff. Poor Jack. He’s the second child so as often as possible we’ve tried to use hand-me-downs. Yes, Jill is a girl and Jack is a boy but we’ve been able to make it work much of the time. It helps that he admires his big sister and that she likes dark-colored clothing.  Don’t freak out on me here - we’re not making him wear her girly clothes, but when she was younger, you couldn’t tell if her jeans were boy’s or girl’s jeans.  (Plus, we sometimes put her in boy’s jeans anyway.) Hey, I’m not cheap; I just have better ways to use money.

So last year Jack wore a pair of magenta-colored snow boots. He couldn’t have cared less, he was just happy to play in the snow. This year he liked the blue gloves that were handed down, but was finally showing signs that he cares about what colors he’s wearing. So when I pulled out the pink boots, he laid down the law for me. ”I will NOT wear pink boots!” Now, I did feel for him. Honestly, I can’t blame him but I’m not going to pay roughly $30 for a pair of boots for one day’s wear. I told him to try the boots on which he finally agreed to, telling me how tight the boots were and that he couldn’t even get his foot in. Fine. 

We’re in California, so even though it’s our cold and rainy season and the snow is nearby, the stores are ready for us, stocked up on bathing suits. So I’m not happy about what the selection will be in trying to find boots, but I’m going to try. Darn it, my kid’s feet will stay DRY! So I was telling (or yelling, you choose) the kids to get their shoes and jackets on and Jack asked where we were going.  I told him we were going to find new snow boots for him which is when he showed me that men are born the way they are. He, like most men I know, doesn’t like to shop unless it’s for toys (and tools) so he takes the opportunity to say… “Shopping! Well maybe those pink boots aren’t as tight as I thought.” What!?! So I calmly, yes calmly, asked, “Are you telling me that you would rather wear tight pink boots than go shopping?”He looked at me as if I’d just said the dumbest thing a person can say and he replied, “Well, yeah!” (Read some attitude into the statement - think teenager attitude and you’ll have the moment nailed.)

To make an otherwise long and trying (for me that is) story short, my husband checked the boots on Jack’s feet and decided they would work for one day. We skipped the shopping, went to the snow and Jack wore his tennis shoes the whole time. His feet stayed dry, we saved the time and money that would have been spent chasing after snow boots that fit and next year we’ll either buy new boots or he’ll wear tennis shoes and we may deal with wet feet. Regardless, I now know that my son, much like his father, cares what he wears as long as he doesn’t have to shop for it.

Kids can keep you feeling young but they can also make you feel very old in an instant.  They have no sense of age or mortality coupled with a lack of a filtering system.

Yesterday was Hubby’s “23^rd anniversary of his 20^th birthday” and he was teasing my sister (who’s younger) that she is soon going to be over the hill.  Jill chimed in with, “Daddy, you’re at the top of the hill!”

Recently Jack was asked how old he is and he answered, “I’m 5, Jill’s 8 and Mom’s a googolplex!” (If you don’t know what a googolplex is, just know that it makes me the oldest person on Earth.)

Jill also has a way of reminding her grandparents of their mortality.  My mom heard Jill singing a song from the movie Nightmare Before Christmas and teasingly said, “When you have kids I’m NOT watching them!” Jill shot back, “That’s okay.  Mom will be the grandma then and you’ll be dead.”  (Note:  For those of you who just fell out of your chairs in shock, my mom laughed and told Jill she might not make it to being old enough to have kids if she keeps making remarks like that.)

Kids have a way of reminding you to enjoy the time you have, to have a sense of humor and that you too probably said something similar when you were young.

I hope you feel as young as I do right now!

 I knew I would have to deal with fashion at some point in my children’s lives, I just thought it would happen later on, like maybe when they become tweens. But that just wasn’t the case for us.

Jill showed an eye for fashion when she was just six-months old.  She would reach out for lavender-colored clothing and smile. It didn’t matter which store we were in and she didn’t reach for other colors so we thought she just liked the color.  That is, until I was flipping through a catalog one day. The catalog was full of designer outfits and Jill was sitting next to me looking as I flipped through the pages.  Suddenly she grabbed the catalog and turned back the page, smiled and started making what we called “happy noises.”  Jill not only liked fashion, but she had expensive taste to boot.  More interestingly, the outfit was not lavender.

Since then Jill has become a bit of a fashion critic and will tell me how an outfit could be improved and she likes to be creative with her own outfits.  She must pick out her own clothes and spends a bit of time each night deciding on the perfect outfit for the next day. Sometimes she will take the weather into account and sometimes the outfit is just too important for her to care about weather conditions.  For example, last Friday temperatures reached over 100 degrees in our area but Jill insisted on wearing a black and white shirt with black gaucho pants. She said she would be in a classroom most of the day and would stay in the shade on recess. Her mind was made up. (I also did not realize until we were leaving the house that this was her chosen outfit. She and her dad discussed her choice and she won.)

Jack is also somewhat fashion conscious but in a different way. He will wear the same clothes for three days if you let him. His idea of changing outfits is running into his room and turning his shirt inside out and/or backwards and turning his pants inside out.  When you say, ”I just told you to go change your clothes.” He will answer “I did!” He will also argue that his clothes are still clean and that he likes them.  Jack doesn’t care if there are holes in the pants, stains on his shirt or even if they are too short.  All he cares about is that he is comfortable.

As you can see I deal with both ends of the fashion spectrum on a daily basis. If it’s like this now I can’t bear to think of what it will be like when they’re teenagers.

When faced with leaving the house, kids MUST bring something.  They like to have something to amuse them or comfort them or show off and it doesn’t matter whether you’re going one mile or one hundred, they just can’t leave with empty hands. 

No matter how much warning we give Jack that we are leaving, there is almost always a frantic search for what to bring.  He may already have packed something to take but he just wants to make sure he has the right thing even though “the right thing” is whatever catches his eye at the last moment.

Yesterday we were taking Jack and Jill to grandma’s house for a bit.  Grandma lives one mile from us and has lots of toys, but still the packing and search had to happen.  Jack decided to bring two of his stuffed animals but couldn’t find one at the last minute.  Hubby was trying to get us all out of the house and said, “Don’t worry about it.  Find something else.”  Jack ran off and came back with his pillow.  Hubby didn’t realize what was happening and asked me if the kids were spending the night and why Jack had his pillow.  I said, “I guess it’s his pet pillow.”  Jack had clearly been worried before I made the comment as he thought his dad was going to make him leave the house empty handed.  The idea of a pet pillow was amazing to Jack.  He grinned and announced, “I have to show grandma my pet pillow.  He’s my new friend!”

Now, however, Jack has taken to carrying this pillow with him, had to have the pillow nearby when he was bathing and even tried to put a pair of underwear on the pillow.  Apparently the two have bonded and I’m sure I’ll be inviting Pillow to join us for dinner soon.

Jack will turn five years old soon and so I’ve been trying to plan a celebration. When Jill turned five we had a party and I always assumed we would for Jack as well but now that the time has come, we are reconsidering. Don’t worry, we’ll still celebrate, its just that Jack’s current friends are much younger than he is and don’t have the same interests so a party just doesn’t seem appropriate.

I asked him recently if he wanted to have the family go bowling which he got really excited about and then he added that he wanted the whole family (including grandparents and his aunt and cousin) to go to the Lego store so everyone can buy one Lego brick for him. Hmmm, I’m sure he means one Lego set but I’ll easily agree to one Lego brick!

Of course as I was starting to make plans for this Lego/bowling fiesta my nephew decided to turn 17. Yes, decided. If you’ve ever been around teenagers you’ll understand that there have been a few days that I thought his mom wouldn’t let him make it to 17, and he’s a good kid generally. So he turned 17 and had his annual campout party which Jack decided to crash at the last minute. (The 17-year old actually wanted Jack there, but Jack likes the idea of having crashed the party.) Then everything changed.

Jack has now decided that he too wants a campout but only after going to the extremely important Lego Store. Jack has also decided that he wants to invite his cousin’s friends to his campout. Oh yeah, he thinks the friends should go to the Lego store to buy him a brick too.

So picture this, invitations sent to a few 16 and 17-year-old boys saying “I’m turning 5! Come buy a Lego brick for me and camp out too!” Sounds like quite a celebration to me.

Jack went out with my sister and nephew the other day to go toy shopping.  On the way to the store Jack announced, “Girl mosquitoes are blood suckers!”  My sister has not studied mosquitoes so she didn’t know this information is true.  She said, “All mosquitoes suck your blood.”  To which Jack replied, “No, only girls are blood suckers!” 

Now, my sister claims that Jack told her that he learned this little tidbit from his dad and, of course, my sister quickly brought it to my attention:  “Do you know what your husband is teaching your child?”  The irony in this situation is: 1) Hubby is very pro-women and does not adopt the “women are blood suckers” feeling, 2) The statement is true regarding mosquitoes and 3) Jack actually learned it at daycare from a woman. 

So here’s the moral of the story:

Dads - watch what your kids say, it could accidentally get you in some hot water. 

Moms - know about mosquitoes, bugs and other creepy crawlies and more importantly, don’t jump to conclusions. 

I knew about the little blood suckers so Hubby was never in trouble, but he did have a great laugh about the fact that my sister took the statement as a jibe and not a fact relayed by an innocent child.

Jill has always been interested in learning how to read, write, do math, et cetera.  She was easy to prepare for kindergarten.  She was hungry for information and we were happy to provide her with tools to feed that hunger.

Jack is a completely different child.  He’s a smart kid but he has a completely different learning style.  He is very hands on and does not want to sit down to learn to read or write.  He wants to build, explore and be active.

You would think that knowing how he learns would make the process simple but it doesn’t.  The way I learn best is a mix of Jack’s and Jill’s styles with a little more emphasis on Jill’s side.  Since I am the one who works most with Jack it is up to me to find ways to teach him.  I have tried games, songs, videos, and various other ways to gain his interest but they only work for a few minutes.  I know a few minutes are better than none, but still…  He doesn’t have A.D.D. because he can sit for hours playing with Legos or Bionicles.

I don’t worry about it too much and, for the most part, I figure he’ll be fine, but it’s a bit difficult for me to shift gears between the two learning styles. I could take Jill to the library and she’d be happy for hours.  Jack would be much happier in a hardware store. 

Yesterday Hubby and I took the kids on a tour of a submarine.  When my sister asked Jack about it he was really excited.  She asked, “Could you see the water through the windows?”  Jack looked puzzled for a bit and said, “There are no windows on a submarine.”  My sister said, “Well, what did you see in the submarine?”  Jack said, “Lots and lots of mechanical stuff!  It was COOL!!!”  Jill enjoyed the tour too but she just kept commenting on the fact that the submarine had a lot of doors to go through.

So I’ll keep trying to find ways to teach Jack to write the alphabet, but if anyone has suggestions, I’d love to hear them. 

By the way, I’ll be trying to teach him how to tie his shoes soon.  Any suggestions?