Peas Please

Celebrate Differences. That was said to me when I used to babysit for a family. The kids learned it at school because the kids came from different homes, liked different foods, and wore different clothes. Kids can be a bit too honest about their opinions so they learned to use the phrase to encourage kids to understand the concept of differences positively.

Kids can also be just plain mean. Now that I have a Kindergartner, I see how much an older kids' opinion means to her. When our neighbor, who is eight, has a friend over, Twig wants nothing more than to be in the mix. It isn't always appropriate or fair for an eight year old to have to play with a five year old, so at times it can get sticky. So it begins. I have tried to teach my daughter boundaries and to recognize when she needs space and when others around her need space. Everyone in this particular situation is sensitive to feelings and so we are all pretty respectful. School is a whole other situation though.  I somehow didn't anticipate other five year olds to be capable of hurting her feelings.

Right before the school year started, we took a trip to the East Coast. On one of the days there I met up with my friend Bridgett and her family. She has a daughter going into second grade and she told me how last year some of her daughter's friends made fun of her tuna sandwich because it smelled to them. Her daughter came home declaring she will never bring tuna with her to school again. Bridgett was so mad at these kids and wanted to remedy the situation so that her daughter would eat one of her favorite foods without shame but she didn't want to get involved. My heart sunk for her daughter and for mine because this kind of peer influence is in evadible.

In case I could avoid any unnecessary hurt feelings I gave my daughter a little chat about celebrating differences. I told her that not everyone knows this though, and so there might be someone who comments on what she brings to lunch. She loves peas and has been part of her daily lunches since I can remember. I have tried giving her other options but she requests them as her first choice. I can't really complain much about a kid asking for a green vegetable so it's a win win. I explained to her that some kids bring carrots and even though she doesn't like them, she would never comment about someone else's food. Apparently, not everyone gave this speech to their children. Sure enough, she makes a new friend. The friend sits next to her at lunch, comments on how she doesn't like peas. The next day makes a disgusted face about peas. The next day says, "Peas again?!"

Twig tells me that she asked her not say anything and explains that it hurts her feelings. I am proud of her, but it doesn't really work. The girl keeps acting shocked that Twig keeps bringing them. Finally last Thursday, she asks for seaweed in her lunch instead. I didn't ask why, and instead just asked more about her day. Eventually she told me the girl commented again. I explained that after you tell someone how you feel you then have to ignore them. I also said that she doesn't have to sit next to her, and that she could take this as an opportunity to make friend's with a new girl from class. She liked the idea and and with that I kissed her good night. I got to the door and she said "Mommy, I would like peas please!"

That day she reported back to me that she ignored the girl and pretended not to hear her. She said "Mommy, I did hear her but she didn't thinks I did." This went on for two more days at which point I emailed the teacher just to fill her in that maybe a blanket message about comments could be useful and she agreed. The next day Twig came home so happy to report that her "friend" didn't say anything. Maybe the teacher's speech had something to do with it, but I would like to think Twig handled it all very well on her own.

A Date With A Boy

There are many articles out there about spacing between children and what age difference is best for siblings. I had it in my head we would do three in a half years and well, you can plan all you want but things have a way of working out all right in the end. I have a friend who had kids fifteen months apart and then another who had them eight years a part. Everyone finds some of it extremely challenging and other elements of the gap to be easy. My children are three years and ten months apart and it has worked out pretty well so far.

This week I see the beauty in how my daughter being off at school allows me time alone with my boy. Last year she went to preschool and although I had that time with him it wasn't quite as relaxed. The first week she was in class I was busy running errands for her and the house. By Friday I realized he needed some fun just for him. I got in the car with a few ideas but no plan in particular. I started driving and thought of Travel Town. Twig loved it when she was his age so I had a feeling he would too. It was perfect. Not a huge place made it completely manageable for his age. There were trains to climb, a bunch of old cars, miniature trains, and a train he could ride around on.

He started walking in the last month so the feeling of freedom he had was so apparant on his smiling face. I knew he would have fun but I didn't really anticipate how much. The fact that he is boy seems to factor in so early. He was toddling around the whole place pointing to each train and saying "car." He isn't entirely wrong. He was jumping up and down in his seat on the train ride he was so excited. He got to run the length of every train inside and out. It was truly our first exciting mother/son date. I beamed watching him. I think we will be frequent passengers there from now on. All aboard!

First Day

The set up for the first day of school was huge. She has been singing songs about going off to Kindergarden since last winter. It seemed the second half of preschool was all about preparing her for this year (making sure she knew her letters, numbers, had good social skills and an interest in learning). When we sat down with her teacher she told us that she was "beyond ready." Academically and socially-speaking, she was a great candidate for Kindergarden. The only thing they couldn't exactly help us out with was separation anxiety -- and well, that is the area with which we need some help.

She seemed so excited when we talked about Kindergarten.We live right near the school so she got very familiar with the yard. We went to all the appropriate pre-Kindergarten events. She would proudly tell anyone who asked where she would be going to school and when, but as the day approached she had more and more questions. At the picnic that the school put together to introduce the new children to the teachers she had a look of terror in her eyes. They gave out popsicles at the end and so she asked that I pick her up when the popsicles came out. I explained that was what they did as a welcome but they wouldn't be having them every day. Then I made the mistake of telling her that the teachers had told me that after lunch they don't do any academics and that it will be all fun stuff in the afternoon. To that she asked what do they do the rest of the day then. On the fly I said just fun learning but sitting down and that they might get to run around a bit after lunch. I feel like I keep just having to spin everything positively because anything is fuel for her fear right now.

The build up to this day has been huge even for me, so I can imagine the whole thing to be daunting to her. I cannot believe my baby is off, all on her own, in elementary school. The morning began with her waking up with tears. She said she didn't want to go. When it was time to leave she clung to the furniture and I would pry her from one piece and she would run into another room and glue herself to another chair. I finally got her out at which point I just needed to get her there. We walked over with her stomach more full of butterflies than food. She picked out a dress with her favorite colors, blue and green. She wore her brand new purple back pack. She had her hair in a pretty little braid. She had tears running down her face.

The teacher Mrs. French was nice but not overly sweet. She was even a bit matter of fact which I think I appreciate now. She invited the parents in with the disclaimer that it would only be for today, and tomorrow drop off is at the door. The kids were to sit on the rainbow rug and we were to stand around them. Read: parents stand around the kids and me because she wasn't quite ready to let go of me. We listened to some details about the year and then a story was read called "The Kissing Hand" about a raccoon who gets a kiss from his mother to last him his whole first day of new school. We all then kissed our children's hands and began to say goodbye. The whole thing was very sweet and emotional. She then clung to me and when the teacher's assistant saw her crying she came up to us. She asked if she was having a hard time (duh). I locked eyes with her at the moment, nodded, and my eyes began to fill. I had held it in as long as I could and just couldn't anymore. Actually I wasn't aware of how hard it was for me until someone recognized we were struggling. I quickly asked the woman to take her and fled. It was not the way I wanted to say goodbye but I did not want her to see me cry.

I asked Twig this morning to find someone who was sad or lonely and to be nice to them to help them through this first day. I didn't see anyone as upset as she was, so I am hoping some of the other kids got the same advice. As I left I saw another mother tearing into a tissue. She shared an extra with me. I think I will wait a good ten years to share with my daughter that the mom's were crying outside. I wonder what she is doing right now and I pray that she has stopped crying. If not I researched home schooling options as a back up plan. I'm kidding. Mostly.

A Sick Day

Warning: This post is not for those with a weak stomach and/or a vivid imagination. Especially those who might be experiencing nausea of any severity.

I was fast asleep when I heard "Mama" and knew something was up. Either the bed was wet or she was sick. I felt her head and immediately knew that the following day's plans were all about to change. It was a beautiful day in early July, so a fever seemed out of place, but it was very much making itself known. Illness after illness seems to roll into each other when you have more than one child. I think we get a reprieve of maybe two weeks tops.

So after canceling camp, gymnastics and a get-together, I settled in for a nice long day at home. First we started with a wash cloth and then set up shop in front of the TV (a perk of being sick is the TV can stay on all day if it makes her feel better). With her lethargic in front of what will be the first of many "Curious George" episodes of the day, I made it my mission to keep my little one from getting too close, and getting too bored. I took him out to the yard, kept him fed, strolled him around the pool in his trike -- anything to keep his day some what normal. When he napped she was either watching TV or sleeping as well, so in some ways it was more manageable than the two of them pulling on me at the exact same time like most mornings.

I was welcoming this change of pace in some ways. Nothing like a sick day to make you realize that you have been moving too fast. Slow living shouldn't come at the cost of your kid's health, so I already appreciated the lesson I got from this day. It was still only the morning and although I like this slowing down idea, I might need some spark to my day. I sat down to give Twig a sip of water to make sure she was hydrated and she laid her head back down on my lap. It only took a few minutes for the excitement to kick in. That sought-after spark had arrived. She began to throw up. She was on her back so first she drenched herself, then the suede pillow and then the shag rug. I sat her up and she just kept going. At this point I aimed her over me and said, "Throw up on mommy, on my lap, on mommy." She is very good at listening to directions and the more specific the better. As horrible as it would be to have a pool of vomit between my legs it would not be as hard to clean up as on the furniture. After all I am an expert at protecting furniture from her vomit (Crate and Barrel couch). So after getting covered from the waist down, I grabbed her and turned the shower on. We both recovered only to have it happen again, this time in a bowl though.

It was a rough couple of days home, but she recovered. Of course it has moved now to the baby, but at least now I know what I am dealing with: as long as we stay off the carpet and the couch, we should be fine.

Oh The Places She Will Go!

Preschool graduation: it seemed to come up on me really fast.

Wasn't I just pregnant, scheduling a hospital tour? I just planned her first birthday in the park and now she is having her fifth (and planning it herself). I've now officially entered the time warp that parents speak of, and it is really weird! My baby will head of to kindergarten in a few months and suddenly I'm clutching a box of tissues trying to process how my baby turned into kid.

We almost didn't send her to this preschool. Originally I had signed her up for a different preschool and a few months before it started I got an email saying they were relocating and the commute would have been horrible. I was crushed, and in a city like LA not knowing in April where your child will attend preschool in the fall is like showing up to the party a day late. I felt completely unprepared and knew it wasn't easy to get a spot anywhere.

We ended up full circle back at the school that I had been aware of since she was born. It sits in a beautiful park near our house that she and I have gone to since she was born. I started teaching stroller workouts there, then we would play there and we have even had every birthday party to date at this park. I knew about the school and had even applied when she was one (I thought I was in the early planning club then) but then got a call saying it was for people in that area only. One day at the park I noticed a sign saying they had opened it up to non-residents and so I called. I signed her up right then and there. It worked out perfectly. It was close to home, she knew the space well and despite the fact that we knew it would be a tough adjustment for her she stood a great chance of success somewhere at least a little familiar.

Preschool was amazing for all of us. It gave her a huge amount of confidence, independence and her social life sky rocketed. The first few weeks were rocky. She cried every day when we dropped her off. I often joined in on the tears once back in my car alone. I sometimes even got calls to pick her up a little early. I knew progress was being made though when I came to get her early after one of those phone calls and walked in to find her all dressed up in dress up clothes laughing with a group of girls. That was the first moment I saw her as a child. Not as my child, not my baby, but herself. She was giggling, talking and navigating through a game with no adult interaction. I had never before seen this child but I liked her and I was proud to be associated with her and honored to actually be related to her. When she saw me she had this embarrassed smirk because she was caught having fun and didn't want to leave. I left her there and came back later with the other parents for pickup. From that day on I never got a call to come early. She loved it there and felt at home, safe, and very welcome.

She experienced everything from music and baking to reading and problem solving. She got on well with her peers, and soared with accomplishments. The first year at the teachers meetings we were told she could improve her speech a bit and that she still had some separation anxiety issues. This year they had nothing to say that needed work. She had really grown there from a toddler to a kid. Articulate as ever, yesterday we passed a hotel that was circular and she said that it was "really very unique." Every so often she will still mispronounce words. She will say she wants to go for "shushi"and I don't have it in me to correct her. She dances that fine line between a very innocent little girl who still asks a lot of questions to a kid who can do it all herself and knows all the answers.

Her first experience at school has taught me about how wonderful other people can be for your child. Of course the social factor for her, but also the teachers. She had three lovely, sensitive, intuitive women who I trusted with my heart and who never once let me down. Together we turned out a success of an experience and I am beaming ear to ear with pride (with a whole lot of tears running down my face).

Denial

A few months back my close friend had us over one afternoon. It was like most afternoons in that we often are at each other's house. Our girls were playing in one room, and our babies were crawling around at our feet. We often spend afternoons chatting away while the kiddos play, we feed them together and then get them home for bed. This afternoon was different though. The normal talk turned serious right away. She said she had to talk to me. My first thought was, "What have I done?" and the second was, "Oh no, you aren't pregnant again are you?" The latter would only be phrased with such negativity for those who celebrate the end of pregnancy forever like she and I have. As big as either one of those who have been they are nothing compared to what she had to tell me.

Over three years ago I met my friend at a pizza place not to far from our homes. We sat with our husbands and daughters. The guys hit it off, our then toddler daughters were instant giggling buddies, and she and I began a friendship that has been one of the most important in my adult life. All of us are inseparable. They had moved from London two weeks before, and didn't know very many people with kids. I had been just that day saying to my husband that I wished I knew more people with kids near our house and then I met them. We spent days together at the park, pool, each other's houses, and nights and weekends we would go out from time to time as well.

We have experienced so much together. If you have followed my blog in the past there are many posts written about our experiences together. We have gone through potty training, tantrums, first day of camp, first day of school, feeling left out, isolating others, competitive behavior, annoying behavior. We have been there for each other as friends and as mothers. We have managed to raise two beautiful girls who love each other as much as we love each other. The more I meet other parents the more I realize how rare a find like this is. We have gone through pregnancy, miscarriage, and pregnancy again. We looked after each other's daughters when we had our baby boys.  We went through the rough newborn phase together. Our daughters played together while we cried on each other's shoulders about sleep deprivation, adjusting to managing two kids, and whether life as we knew it before was over.

As it got easier we grew even tighter. Our boys now had playmates and they seemed as excited to see each other as our girls. We had a great routine going with carpooling to and from preschool each day. We discussed the future and visited where the girls would attend Kindergarten. We agreed that as much as they loved each other that it would be best to separate them. This was the plan at least, until it all changed that afternoon. My friend looked at me and said "We are moving back." I was in shock. This was too much for me to even comprehend. This wasn't possible, and how can we change this. She had been so happy here, they all had loved living in LA. Then came the tears first from me, then her, then an even bigger wave of sadness came over me like a kick in my stomach: I thought of the girls. It was a very defining moment as a mother. When something this big can affect me this way I could feel how monumental it would be for Twig. 

We decided to be honest with them straight away. It would have been too hard anyway to hide two grown women crying in the living room and pawn it off like nothing was wrong. We calmed ourselves enough to tell them and then prepared ourselves for the many questions to follow. It is now a few months later and the questions continue to roll in. The majority of them are about visiting each other though. They both have it all planned out, and we know they will see each other at Christmas time when they come back for a visit. That gives us a bit of time to start planning a visit to London. In no way, shape or form is this how any of us saw it all panning out, but there is clarity in one thing for sure, these girls have a bond for life. As their mothers we have a commitment to nurture that bond and although they are leaving, the friendship between us all isn't going anywhere.

One!

We made it! He made it! I made it!

The first year is behind us. It did not feel like it went quickly in the first few months but from six months on it seemed to fly by. I get a weekly update about what my baby is up to and suddenly I get one and it no longer says "baby." My little baby is now a toddler. This time is of course bittersweet. I read recently that the month of May is hard for children because it is the end of the year and if they are going on to a new school they keep hearing about all the changes but they can't really grasp what the change is or how it will affect them. There is so much hype around how they are getting bigger and they are moving on and in some ways they get excited but it can also cause them a great deal of anxiety.

Parents (me) go through this change as well. I cannot grasp that I now have a one year old and will soon have a five year old who will go off to kindergarten. I just felt that the first day of school was so far away. When I took the baby (pardon me, "toddler") to drop off Twig's kindergarten registration forms today the secretary mentioned that soon enough I'll be registering him too. Now I know that is kind of far away but I also now know how the speed of time passing seems to have changed dramatically. I don't know what it is to feel boredom, quiet, or down time anymore and when I am busy I never get the sense that anything is moving slowly. There are only four weeks left of preschool for my first baby and I feel she is just getting over the transition recently. She loves school, but goodbyes each morning are still a struggle.

Changes are not easy for everyone. They have always seemed especially hard for me. That being said I have had more practice then usual lately. We moved a month ago and it went much smoother than I thought. It was epic, moving an entire house with two small children underfoot. Both kids did really well too (except for the then baby getting sick the second night here -- that is always a picnic). The anticipation of the change is always harder than the actual day it arrives. I do get teary just thinking of preschool graduation day, cap and gowns, singing, goodbyes to teachers. Teary and my stomach is turning too. The first concept that will be difficult for her to grasp is that she will not be going back there after that last day. She will then have to adjust to starting in a summer camp. I'm sure she will just begin to get used to that right before that ends as well.

Having children has challenged me to navigate change more gracefully. Just like Twig I have to shift gears often now. I will miss her preschool, and her preschool friends. I will miss the things they help her with there that she won't have assistance with in kindergarten, like telling them what to eat from their lunch boxes first, and more one-on-one attention. I will miss that academics took a backseat to fun and that it will soon be the other way around for her. I look forward to her going to kindergarten to expand her knowledge, friends, and experiences. I look forward to her being able to walk to school from our new home, and I look forward to her having a sense of community more so than we have had from preschool.

As for my little and last baby, I will miss him falling asleep nursing. I will miss the curled up snuggle of a tiny baby. I will miss watching the transformation he made from half asleep to smiling to sitting up. I will miss his new baby smell. I am happy to part with the sleepless nights, the hormonal shifts I went through and the blowout diapers. I still get to marvel over newness with both of them on a daily basis. Twig is singing and making up songs, and he happily claps along. The older he gets the more I see the relationship between the two of them strengthening. They are much happier having each other to play with. On the day of his first birthday he stood up for the first time without holding on to anything. He had a huge smile on his face as he just stood there looking at all of us. There are still so many great firsts ahead for all of us. I am excited to share my days with my two wonders.