Zoo Day with my Lil' Man...

I spend a lot of time grooming our children into the people that I want them to be as adults. Strong. Independent. Intelligent. Compassionate. Polite. With that comes a lot of teaching, structure, discipline, rules and (most important) consistency.  In doing that, I have been known to forget that every now and then they need to just let loose. And then I feel bad for the same strict structure that I enforce because I know is so good for them.  One-on-one time with my Bugs is oh-so-important and before C was born, it was so easy. I mean, when you only have one kid, one-on-one time is all the time…everything you do…it is built in by design.  But then you have a second child (or any subsequent sibling…parents with more than one child will immediately relate, but the concept is elementary regardless of how many kids you have currently…or if you even have children). And as amazing as that younger child is…and as amazing as the relationship is between those two children (my Bugs don’t just love each other, they LOVE each other…nearly inseparable and they each think the other one is **perfect**)…they each need, crave and DESERVE one-on-one time with Mamma and/or Daddy. 

Then it becomes a matter of scheduling.  Find a sitter for one kid while the parents do something with the other…or split the kids between the parents (Mamma and Daddy each take a child and do something one-on-on)…or once school starts, do something with the younger sibling while the older one is in school (assuming, of course, that your child goes to school outside of the home).  The one-on-one time is no less important with multiple children…it just requires a bit more creativity in scheduling.

K started Kindergarten in August. Yes, I know that was 6 months ago.  C is not old enough for Pre-K, so we get a whole year of school-days together…just us. And so we’ve had a good amount of one-on-one time.  But it occurred to me last week that we haven’t used it to do anything special. No trips to the Zoo, no Children’s Museum…just normal day-to-day stuff like errands, chores and the occasional extra playground trip, bike ride or long walk. WHAT was I waiting for? It won’t be long before school is out and one-on-one time becomes harder to schedule…then it’ll be August again and he’ll start Pre-K (just two days a week, but still making for a slightly less flexible schedule) as K moves on to 1^st grade. OMG…she’ll be moving to first grade…in just 6 short months…woah. That’s another post entirely.  

So last week, we packed a lunch, gathered snuggly jackets and a blanket (it was a bit chillier than I anticipated) and headed to the Zoo.  And we had a blast.  We got there just after they opened and didn’t have to be concerned with time (I’d already decided that C could skip his nap as long as he was having a good time and behaving well).  We visited gorillas, orangutans, antelope, and giraffes. Then we enjoyed lunch outside the aquarium.  When it got too chilly to continue sitting outside to eat, we finished our lunches inside the aquarium as we watched the penguins jump, swim and waddle.  Then we visited the tropical rain forest and the big cats exhibit.  There were very few things that we didn’t see or do, but we kept a leisurely pace and took our time watching the animals play.  We spent a great deal of time looking at the lion cubs. C was so excited over the ‘baby kitty cats’ that he wants to have his own baby lion. LOL.  I suppose every kid feels that way when they see infants of another species…but it is still so stinkin’ cute to hear it from your own child’s mouth. So innocent in their understanding that in just a few short months, that sweet ‘baby’ would be the largest thing in the house and not suitable for life as a domestic pet.

It was a wonderful day full of things that HE loved…no errands, laundry, dishes or other household chores. Just the things that an almost 3 year old boy enjoys…and he has talked about it non-stop since. Yes, I was ‘behind’ on the laundry and chores that I would like to have done before the weekend. No, I wouldn’t trade those few hours for anything.

~Jac

Faith, Effort and Love...Not Numbers...

If you have children, you will understand immediately what I am about to describe.  That comment that changes the way you parent, the way you view parenting and the way you relate parenting to others.  For everyone else, it’s a good story…a true story.

I was told a long time ago that I’m not really parenting until I have more than one kiddo. Really? Then what the hell have I been doing for the past year (half of which I did alone while my hubby was half way around the world)?! I want to make it clear that that comment pissed me off to no end…still does when I think of it. If you have a child, you are parenting. That’s really all there is to it. I believed that then and I believe that now. A part of me, however, wondered if I would feel like or be a different parent should we have an additional child. In the time since the comment was made, it has been explained to me over and over that I may have taken it too personally…which is always possible…I take a lot of things personally and I take EVERYTHING personally when it involves my sweet, angelic, perfect Bugs.

Okay, we all know they aren’t actually perfect. But they are perfect for us…perfect at testing boundaries… perfect at being kids…and that’s a good thing because that’s their job.  But they are my life, my career and the most wonderful thing that I have ever done, bar none.  I put my heart and soul into raising them…everything from hygiene, appearance and punishment to education, social skills and safety (and everything in between) is my responsibility and I approach it with the same vigor as any corporate executive gunning for a promotion or pay raise.   I spend my days shaping personalities, encouraging curiosities, teaching skills and appropriate behaviors and explaining the ways of the world to two of the most inquisitive minds that I have ever met.  I laugh, I cry, I scream and most nights I pass out from the exhaustion of it...and I truly LOVE every second.

So, do I feel like more of a parent now that I have two kids? No. Definitely not. I am more of a multi-tasker, more of a mediator (thankfully not too much since our Bugs get along so well) and more of a scheduler (which is saying a lot since most people already viewed my compulsive planning as a fault).  But, I am not any more or less of a parent. I teach the same things…just twice. I wash the same laundry…just twice.  I wipe the same tears…just twice. I’m not doing more…I’m just doing the same things more often.  And I still truly LOVE every second.

But that comment has forever changed me.  It changed the way I view the person that said it…and certainly not for the better.  Regardless of the intent, or if it was or wasn’t said in jest, it hurt me. And to say something like that to a new, first time mom (K was only about 9 months old at the time) is insensitive to say the least. Not to mention that I was single-parenting at the time and already struggling with worry about if I was doing our sweet girl justice on my own.  In my mind that person views themselves as ‘more’ of a parent and that infuriates me (they currently have more children than my hubby and I and probably always will since we intend to be done producing offspring). 

God made me the parent that I am because I am the parent that the children He blessed us with needs. I’m not more of a parent than anyone else and I am not less of a parent than anyone else. I am the parent necessary for the children given to me. Nothing more. Nothing less.  It has also changed the way I relate parenting to new parents.  I feel it is necessary (and that I am obligated) to remind them that THEY are what their children need…nothing more, nothing less…not what the books say, not what other people say and not what the internet says…YOU are the parents that your child needs and God gave you the instincts to do the job.  Follow your instincts first and when you feel truly muddled, then it is time to ask for help.  It causes me to bite my tongue a lot, too.  I try so hard to stay out of the ‘comparing’ game that is so common now-a-days anyway.  But when someone spends their time broadcasting their woes about their husband being gone for one or two nights or their anger at them being called out during supper, I can’t help but think about the weeks and months that I spend as a single-parent each year.  No, my hubby and I aren’t separated…well, at least not spiritually or legally…just physically. He is on active duty in the Air Force and spends an average of over 120 days away from us each year. Not as bad as some military members, but certainly a lot more than any family would prefer.  And even when he is home, a 40 hour work week is nothing short of a joke. A ‘workday’ is an average of 12 hours…a minimum of 5 days a week….weekends, evenings and overnight commitments are anything but unusual. And there is no such thing as overtime pay.  But, I refuse to make those comments. It isn’t worth comparing and it doesn’t make me more of a parent than someone with a standard M-F/9-5 job. What it does is make me even more thankful for the luxury of being a full-time parent…for the gift of being the one to be there for the ‘first’ everything…to get K from school each afternoon and drop her off each morning…to always be here when there are monsters in C’s room at night…to provide comfort, stability and structure in the midst of the turmoil of military life.  It also makes me more thankful for the friends that we have made though our journey as a military family.  The families that never compare hardships because it is all hard and you can’t measure the loneliness in one’s heart; you simply provide support and encouragement.

I am not more or less of a parent because of the number of children that I am raising. I know that now.  I am more of a parent because of what I choose to do. My choice to be involved in every aspect of their lives and interests, my choice to discipline consistently, my choice to put the time, energy and love into shaping them into strong, educated, independent and productive members of society…those are the things that make me a parent. It’s not about numbers…it’s about faith, effort and love.

~Jac

My Sweet Ladybug...

 My sweet girl. Just thinking of her brings a smile to my face.  She is a miniature version of myself...which is both a blessing and a curse.  She was the easiest of babies. She only cried when she was hungry or needed a new diaper. She slept through the night at 2 weeks old, never got sick and developed ahead of schedule.   She held her own head up at the hospital, sat, crawled, walked, talked and teethed early. She did everything early (still does).  She also did it all on her own…so independent from the very beginning.  She didn’t need to be held to feel safe and comforted. She would fall asleep on her own just as quickly as if you were rocking her.  She would also sleep anywhere…not partial to her bed or anything like that…no special blanket, stuffed animal, pacifier or anything else was needed.  Just a clean/dry diaper and BOOM, she was asleep.  Independence was just part of her personality from the beginning…bed time, for example…bath, bottle, burp and bed…no snuggling or rocking to sleep was necessary.   We rarely had any non-parent friends babysit because all the couples that were ‘debating’ when to start a family would spend time with little-miss-easy-pants and leave thinking ‘this is so easy, we can do this’. LOL. We feared being blamed for false advertisement if their child was born less cooperative than our sweet Ladybug.

Feeding was the only exception to her easy-going attitude.  She did not and would not nurse…leaving her mother (me) feeling like a total failure from the very beginning…which was only amplified by the fact that she was our first little angel. Until our doctor (we use family medicine, so we see the same doc) told me that as long as I feed her, I’m doing my part. Thank you, doctor-man. And bottles it was. She was thrilled with this decision, apparently. And proceeded to eat, grow and develop remarkably fast! Though I know there are fantastic arguments, research and studies supporting breast milk-only diets, she is fine. She’s smart (too smart if you ask me, my hubby or her kindergarten teacher), certainly well-bonded with both my husband and I and has only been sick once in her 5 years of life. I can’t ask for much better even though she was ‘just’ a formula baby. I do get tired of the people that still continue to judge me for it, though.  However as she and her baby brother get older, I become more and more confident that not only are the decisions I make good…they are what’s right for our family…and as long as I have the best interests of our children in mind, my instincts will guide me.  Too bad I wasn’t that confident back then. I’d have just told everyone to bugger off.

She is a Daddy’s Girl and she had him wrapped around that tiny finger of hers from the moment she entered this world.  She could play him like a fiddle from the very beginning and has only become more efficient as the years have passed.  It’s adorably entertaining to watch. She is also Grampy’s girl. My parents came to visit just a couple of days after she was born and she immediately wrapped Grampy around one of her tiny little fingers. One for Daddy and one for Grampy.  She knew she’d get what she wanted from one of them.  Her birthday is in early summer and since she was a bottle baby, anybody could feed her and get up with her. Fine by me.  So, my dad (Grampy) got up with her each morning and took her outside to our comfy swing…they would swing and soak up sunshine and fresh air while she took her bottle.  When she was done, she’d sleep snuggled into the cushion next to him while he drank his coffee.  It was so sweet to watch. Well, hear about…I slept through most of those 6am feedings.  Might as well take it while you can!  It was that first day that we noticed that she was also a Grampy’s girl…and that Grampy was on the hook. She would fuss and fuss and fuss (and she had not been a fussy baby thus far) and nobody would be able to soothe her…then she would hear Grampys boots (Grampy always wears boots) on the wooden stairs and immediately calm down.   If he stopped climbing, she’s start crying again…and so on…until he made it to her room and got her from her crib. Ta-da, the one week old, black hair and blue eyed little lady had gotten Grampy to do her bidding. For the first of many, many, many times to come.

She was an even easier toddler. I know, nobody says that. But she was. No temper tantrums, no attitude problems, nothing. She learned quickly…obeyed rules…and was beyond excited when she found out that she was going to be a big sister. No jealousy, just excitement. Even now.

She is the best big sister that any sibling could ever wish to have. She adores her baby brother…and she spoils him rotten. Takes care of him, gives him her last cookie, her last bite of pizza, the last bit of her drink, the book she’s reading, the toy she’s playing with…ANYTHING he wants. It’s cute…but horrible, really.  He now thinks he’s entitled to EVERYTHING. And I am, obviously, the bad guy for not giving in to his demands…because, well, his perfectly adoring sister would let him have it (whatever ‘it’ happens to be at the time).  Though, to be fair, he adores her just as much.  He gets so angry when, on the rare occasion, she gets in trouble.  If you are the one disciplining the ‘perfect sister’, prepare to be completely ignored for the rest of the day/evening/night from him…he does not tolerate his sister getting grounded, spanked, put in time out or sent to her room. He. FREAKS. Out.

Now she is 5 years old. Going on 15 most days and 25 the rest. And when she has one of those days that she ‘acts 5’, I feel like I’m going to lose it…lose my mind, my composure, my hair, everything.  She is in kindergarten and excelling at everything.  Everything except keeping her mouth shut…I told you, she is just like me.  She wants to do everything herself…birthday parties, sleepovers, field trips, all of it. No more walking her to the door at school…’Mamma, you can just let me out of the car at the sidewalk.’  At least she still calls me Mamma. She says I don’t need to walk down the hill get her from school, either…’Mamma, if you just get out of the car at the sidewalk, my teacher will let me go since she can see you from there.’  At least she still calls me Mamma.  She reads to herself. Not just short little words here and there…the little lady can sound out 4 syllable words on her own. I thought that she was just skimming books and looking at the pictures at first.  So, I thought I’d be smart (always a bad idea around her…she can make people with doctorates feel like morons) and make her tell me about the story before she can move on to something else (a verbal book report of sorts)…turns out she can tell me every little detail. So, there. So much for that great idea. ‘Mamma, it was a funny funny book that taught me all about welcoming new friends to our class!’ At least she still calls me Mamma.

At least she still calls me Mamma. And gives me a kiss every night before bed.

~Jac

It's Different When it's Your Kids...

It’s different when it’s your kid. I heard this all the time. I’m an only child and I doubt anybody would have described me as ‘patient’ with children. ‘Tolerated’ would have been a much better way to describe my feelings toward children more than a year or two younger than myself…and only barely at that. As I got older…then engaged…then married…I was constantly asked about kids of my own. To be honest, I worried. Kids in general annoyed me. All of them. Yeah, they were cute for about 10 minutes before I started to feel overwhelmed by their neediness…and adorable when they were sleeping. But their noses were runny and crusted with dried food and snot. Their mouths were lined with whatever meal or snack they’d finished…an hour ago. Their clothes were rumpled and disheveled. Their hair was always askew. They were just not tidy…oh-so-needy…and riddled with temper tantrums! I must have had all of that written on my face quite often because immediately after asking ‘So, when are you going to start having kids?’ one would say ‘Don’t worry, it’s different when they’re yours.’  Of course, my first thought was ‘Wow, everything is plural in that sentence’…what if I only want one? LOL.

Well, I must admit…they were right.  It is different with my own kids. But not in the ways you might think. Snotty, crusty noses and mouths still drive me crazy. I am the queen of wiping…and now my two are the princess and prince of wiping. : ) Rumpled and disheveled clothes make me bonkers…I iron almost everything (well, except socks and underwear).  And hair is rarely askew in this house. Both of my Bugs were born with hair…and lots of it…and it got fixed daily (sometimes more than once…depending on the state of disarray after naps)…it STILL gets fixed daily. K has long, thick, coarse, wavy hair…it grows so fast that in her short life, she has donated her hair to various wig-making agencies 3 times! It gets combed, wet and styled each day.  C has thick blonde hair that we keep cut relatively short. He goes with Daddy every two weeks to get their hair cut to ‘within regs’…but it is still washed each night and combed each evening and then wet and combed each morning.  Don’t get me wrong, they are still kids. They still play in the mud/dirt outside and enjoy every second of it. They spend entire days outside in the summer playing in the dirt, mud, grass and whatever else they can find and they love it.  But once the fun is over and they are ready to be done. They are ready to be DONE…cleaned up, wiped down, washed and FINISHED. They know better than to play with their food and as such, they are fairly clean eaters (well, except for things like fresh watermelon slices while they are playing in the aforementioned mud, dirt and grass).  See, having my own kids didn’t mean I had to give up on those little things, it just meant that there is a time and place for everything and it was (well, still is) my job to teach that to my sweet little ones.

The lack of tidiness still bothers me. A lot. But I have made my peace with most of it. I’ve taught them to clean up their messes…how to put their toys/books away and how to take care of things so that they will last longer.  Most days this works just fine…I say ‘clean-up time’ and they do it.  On occasion, like tonight, I give them the night off and let them worry about it tomorrow.  That was (and still is) a big step for me…to let go a little bit and let the house be in a slight bit of disorder in favor of playing in the bathtub or reading extra books. But, you can’t always have it all and do it all…I have learned at least that much. And when it comes to choosing, I will ALWAYS choose them…this precious time with them is so short. The neediness still gets to me sometimes…but the Lord was good enough to give one fiercely independent little girl and a little boy that is independent the majority of the time. The things they need me for are understandable…food, drinks and basic care…not just an ‘I need you to pay attention to me just for the sake of me getting my way’ kind of needy. When either of them are that kind of needy, you can bet your paycheck that they aren’t feeling well. Every. Single. Time.  

And the temper tantrums. Oh, Lord help me.  We don’t have a tantrum-thrower. It was never an option. Probably because we have always believed in consequences. Actual consequences, not empty threats.  We use a variety of punishment forms…spanking, time out, taking away special or new toys, games, stuffed animals, events or activities and we don’t let poor behavior be the cause of leaving a store, restaurant or event.  Instead we use the old staynd-bys that our parents used: ‘Do we need to go outside?’ and ‘Should we take this to the bathroom?’  Along with our own personal favorite: ‘Do we need to go discuss this?’ Most people…even close friends…disapprove of this concept. And that is fine…their kids are their kids to raise and ours are ours. To each their own.  However, we have always believed that if they are old enough to do something or act in a way that isn’t okay or isn’t acceptable, they are old enough to learn what is correct and acceptable…and for us to enforce consequences when they do not behave accordingly.  The result, at least in our house, are well-behaved kids that can be taken anywhere at any time and still behave appropriately.  Yes, they get upset, cry and sometimes even get mad at us.  But, we believe that is our job to teach and parent right now…not to be their friend…there will be time for friendship later...when they have a strong foundation of polite behavior and manners. But for all the things that warrant ‘punishment’ in our house that are just let go in other households (in my opinion, because parents are too afraid of their kid not liking them to discipline effectively), our kids love us dearly and though they may be mad, upset or even angry in the moment, they still come to us each night for hugs, kisses and snuggling before bed. They immediately seek comfort from us when they get hurt or are sick. The miss us when we are away…no matter if it is 5 minutes, 5 hours or 5 months. They celebrate when we return home and are always eager to share the accomplishments with us. I don’t think we are missing out by enforcing rules and structure. Instead, I believe we are providing them with additional comfort and security. They know the boundaries and if they choose to cross them, they know there will be consequences. Every. Single. Time. I don’t like to discipline them (to be totally honest), but I feel that it is necessary…both to build strong character and morals as well as to prepare them for the ‘real world’ (which seems so far away from them, but I know that it’ll be upon them in a flash).

So, yes, it is different with my own. But not because all the little things that annoyed me went away when our first little Bug came into this world…but because I had the power to handle things the way that my husband and I saw fit. We can keep them clean and well-taken-care-of while teaching them to be independent and behave appropriately…all while maintaining strong, lifelong relationships and durable, lasting bonds with our precious little ones.  I’m not saying that everything works ‘right’ the fisrt time…and we still seek advice from others when we feel that we’ve ‘tried everything’ and nothing has worked. That is the joy of parenting in a community…you can share ideas, tips and tricks. What worked for you or me may not work for the next person, but if they’ve tried everything but that (or if we’ve tried everything except what you mention), it is probably worth a shot! : ) That is our way and it works for us and our amazing children. I am sure your way is different and that is okay.  I’m not judging and I’m also not asking to be judged. If it works for you and you’re happy with the results that is really all that matters. 

~Jac