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Sharing Her Wealth

26 May

Dragon Dollars: tokens that praise students for being ready, respectful and responsible. Students are awarded them from any teacher during the school day for doing something that falls in line with those three school character traits.

Did you help another student pick up some papers she dropped? Dragon Dollar. Did you turn your complete homework project in on time? Dragon Dollar. Were you following the rules in the hallway? Dragon Dollar.

Each week, the school would offer a store where students could cash in their well-earned paper Dragons for passes to skip a homework assignment, wear sunglasses, get an ice cream treat or bring a critter (stuffed animal) to school. Students could also save up for special events. Nate used some for ice cream and then 40 to attend his principal’s birthday bash. He was so excited for that. Then, there was Nia. She saved hers – wanting to make sure she’d have enough for the big celebration and raffle at the end of the year.

Nia earned more than 100 dollars over her Third Grade days. She was able to buy the $50 ticket to the Luau and a $50 ticket for the raffle. She was so proud and happy to be one of the few in her class who could afford to buy both.

When the day came, she made her purchases and then saw that one of her classmates was very sad when he learned he didn’t have enough for the luau or raffle. She knew what she had leftover wasn’t going to give him enough for those but, instead of spending her surplus on some extra swag for herself, she gave them to her friend. She says she doesn’t know what he “bought” with them, only that he was happy and thankful.

I was moved by what she did but I wanted to know more. Would she be so giving to someone who wasn’t her friend? Why didn’t the boy have enough Dragons? Did he not follow the rules like she did?

She told me she wouldn’t want to give them to someone who was mean to her. I told her I can understand that but it’s best to always be kind to everyone. She didn’t love this idea because she was thinking about one girl in particular who is mean to her and didn’t want to reward her for that. I can understand that and part of me agrees with her, but I want to teach her to be giving without judgement or preference – something many adults, even myself, find difficult at times.

She explained that the boy behaved, he just always spent his dollars each week, never saving them. This kind of ties in with the giving without judging view. A lot of people feel they shouldn’t give their dollars to someone who isn’t as careful with theirs. She didn’t look at it that way. She saw a friend who was sad and wanted to help.

I want her to always have the giving heart she has, but I also don’t want her to be a pushover. Difficult to teach and live out. I am so proud of her though – for saving her well-deserved dollars and for sharing without someone prompting her. That’s a great start.

My First Mother’s Day

13 May

I celebrated my first Mother’s Day two Sundays after Nia was born. Andrew couldn’t be with us that day but he made sure to send his two girls a sweet surprise. While in Iraq, before computers and phones were available for soldiers, Andrew found a way to order me my favorite flowers (daisies) and Bean a dog stuffed animal. He had them delivered to our home right on time for Mother’s Day and it made me feel loved, appreciated and connected to him even though we were so far apart and he hadn’t even met our daughter yet.

I found a picture that shows his gifts to us. The dog watched over her on top of her bassinet and the flowers dressed up the table next to her, near the couch where I sat:

Baby Bean with Doggy on her Bassinet

Bean still keeps the doggy close. His nose is worn and he shows her years of hugs and travels. She takes him with her on trips, tucking him in her pillow case and feeling comforted as soon as she snuggles him. She knows that “soldier daddy” got him for her and she cherishes that so sweetly. I know there will be a time when he will be moved to a shelf and then a keepsake box, but right now, nine Mother’s Days later, her special doggy is resting at the top of her bed as she sleeps – watching over her like he did as a baby.

Snuggles Special Doggy

Mom “Types”

13 May

Hey, ma. You love your kid, right? You care about whether your child is sad, sick, hungry, happy, well-behaved, mannerly, respectful, treated right by others … right? I know there are trying times, but your love and protection is always there. I think that’s swell and I want you to know it.

I’ve read a few blog posts over the last few months that talk about mom “types” and they’re bringing me down. It comes to my mind even more after all the TIME magazine cover hubbub about “attachment parenting.” I’ve also heard a lot about “helicopter moms” and of course there’s always the ever-present and anger-causing divide between “working moms” and “stay-at-home moms.”

  • This blog post talks about “judgmental moms” then goes on to judge other moms by asking at the end, “Which parent type do you not like?”
  • This blog post labels all the different moms seen at the school – some are spoken highly of, some are questioned.
  • This one goes so far to talk about how much she doesn’t like moms who cut their children’s food in fun shapes but then concludes that she doesn’t like when other moms judge her.

Why are we so mean to each other? Why do we group people like this? Because it helps us relate in some way? To know our place? I can understand that there will be other people we don’t get along with or whose company we don’t necessarily enjoy, but are these moms endangering their children’s lives in some way? Are they demeaning, neglectful or abusive? Is she killing her child’s spirit? If that’s the case, I feel it’s a different thing because then she is hurting her child, not just offending others with her mom style. It seems to me the acts that the labels describe are not harmful to their children, just their mom esteem.

I am guilty of having a gut reaction to some of the parenting styles I see. I’ve actually written about it before: It’s Just Sad to Me and It Takes a Village and All That. In these cases, I feel like the parents are putting their children in direct risk of harm and I struggle with my feelings about it. I know I’ve done plenty of things that would get a head shake or a clicked tongue by some moms.

I let my kids watch tv – even in the car. They play video games. It takes me days to put away their laundry. Sometimes, they eat fast food and don’t get enough veggie servings in a day. I attempted breastfeeding for as long as I could but didn’t make myself – or my child – miserable when my body said no more. I co-slept with them. I let them cry themselves to sleep. I’ve raised my voice to them. I’ve disciplined harshly. I’ve questioned a low grade on a test and reviewed it with them to teach them. I’ve over-praised and bragged on them. I’ve loved intensely, letting their moods and feelings heavily affect mine. I’ve wondered how the heck to be a mom.

All of those things came from caring about them and about whether I was being a good mom to them, as I’m sure many of the labeled moms are trying to do. My kids seem to love and respect me – and generally think I’m ok, so far. (In fact, Nia just told me I’m the “best” and she didn’t ask for a treat after it.) Is there a mom type for that?

I kinda like them.

Why Is Nine Afraid of Seven?

29 Apr

Because eight was so great.

Department Store Catalog Pose featuring her Fashion Creation

I know nine will be too, I’m just going through the typical parent emotion of watching the years fly by. To see Nia’s sweet, smart and caring spirit adapt to and try to understand different experiences as she figures out how to respond and feel. To see her become her own person, create her own sense of style, humor and thoughts. It is wonderful, but wild.

Trying to be serious during a fit of giggles.

Her eighth year was full of firsts and new emotions. Riding without training wheels; keeping her Barbies in the drawer and, instead, spending more time with the door to her room closed to sing and dance to the latest pop music; watching less cartoons and more human-acted TV shows and movies; falling in love with Grease (and even seeing it live as a play – thanks, Aunt Ree!); and wanting to put a little more distance between her mom or dad as she plays outsides or explores a store. (I never let her out of my sight!)

Little Mall Shopper

Now, as she starts on her ninth year, I hope she handles her new adventures and challenges with the same thought and heart that she has shown so far. She tries her best, loves a good joke (which I attempted for her with the title), knows how to laugh at herself and how to make others laugh, and most beautifully, is caring to all.

Sharing the love while she sleeps.

Waiting on a Catch

21 Apr

The feeling is so distinct. It has been years since I experienced it directly but I remember it each time I watch Nate on the baseball field. It’s like I can almost sense it through him.

He waits – eager, aware, knees slightly bent, ready to run, glove out, his free fist punches it to make it awake and prepared for something spectacular – a catch.

"Baseball Ready" by Dodgers' Mom, Amber

I remember what that felt like. The want of it is incredible and powerful.

Let’s go, batter. Hit it to me. I dare you. With the clang of the bat, the ball flies above the field. Above the pitcher. Above Second Base. It’s close to me. I got it. It’s mine! I run for it. Empty glove out. The slap of the ball. Heavy glove. Cheers. Elation. Ready for another.

I wasn’t a star softball player. I would actually call myself average but that doesn’t take away from that feeling. Now, I as watch Nate, I know he feels it too. He wants to field that ball. He wants the catch. He will dive out in the air for it. He’s made a few and missed a few, too. It seems the ones you miss make the ones you snag so much sweeter.

I’m thankful Nate and Andrew let me play outfield for them when they practice. I still can’t shake that feeling. Come on, Nate. Hit me a pop-up.

Waiting for my Catch

Spring Break(ing Me Down)

19 Apr

I kid. I kid. Spring Break 2012 has been great, it’s just hard to keep these tiny customers entertained and pleased each day ’round the daylight hours without collapsing. It works out wonderfully that I get to have the week off with them and have my mom (“Honey”) here at the same time but kids will wear you down, man. I forgot what it’s like to have all the minutes in the day to enjoy with children packing limitless energy. I actually sent them to “school” for one of the days.

Really though, they got to shadow with their buddies who attend an area private school to see if it’s something they may like. They both loved it. I think we will wait a year and see how Nate handles First Grade at his current school before we decide on making a major move. It’s good to know that they both were happy there – and frozen yogurt with buds at the end of the short day was a sweet topping.

Frozen Yogurt Friends

We spent another day shopping. Nia scored her new favorite (slightly) heeled shoes and we all laughed as Nate busted a move near the CD samples of 60′s Swing near the greeting cards at Target.

Some other Spring Break hours were spent on a special daddy/son baseball night that featured Tim Hudson pitching for the Gwinnett Braves and a happy Nate with a ball.

Thanks to a Sharing, Stranger

Another fun (and brave) day involved a field trip to the Atlanta Botanical Garden thanks to my friend, Tracy, who gave us guest passes. Of course, we had an adventure figuring out how to get there when my GPS needed slapped to obey me. Then, Nate ran through most of the Garden like he was in a sprint race (and sighed out at one point, “You keep wanting to look at all the flowers!”). What I will remember most is this:

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Following the Map Readers

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Momma's Pack, Complete with Necessary First Aid Kit

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Enjoying the Exploring

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"What's in that cave?" "Boo!"

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Giant Caterpillar is Hungry

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Loved the Children's Garden

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Whoa! Bees!

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Favorite Fancy Flower

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Trying to get the frog to jump in his pocket.

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Happy Day with Honey

I guess a good Spring Break is one where the adult supervision needs a nap during the day while the kids destroy one of their rooms.

Inquisitive Kid Interrogation

7 Apr

It was a night-night routine like any other: tuck under the blankets, prayers, start her instrumental music CD, talk about happy things for her to think about to keep bad dreams away and, of course, hugs-n-kisses. Then, Nia started firing the questions at me:

“Is the Easter Bunny just a mascot?”

“Um, I’m not sure.”

“Are you really the one who hides the eggs?

“What do you want to believe?”

“That you sleep and the Easter Bunny comes then. But is it you? Tell the truth.”

I totally fail at a response and lean over to hug her and hide my horrible poker-player face. Then, successfully (terribly) change subject.

The questions are flying and I have zero clue how to answer them. I really struggle with all the magical people in my children’s lives and discussing things I don’t even fully understand. Not just about the bunny or Santa either. More so about God.

Nia wants to know: “Was God born? How was God just there? He had to come from somewhere.”

I don’t know how to respond. All I can say is I believe He was just there. He was first. I want to believe that. I will try to give Bean what she wants for as long as I can, too.

I feel the spirit of all of it is rooted in positivity and is meant for good. I get that feeling from my belief in God. I hope she will understand the intention was never to deceive and hurt. I’m also hoping I’ll know the right time to discuss it with her. The night before Easter just didn’t feel right. Or maybe it was perfect…a confession of sorts.

Where is that basket so I can candy myself into a sugar haze and forget this until she brings it up again? Maybe then will be the right time.

Buddies, Baseball and Bulldogs

2 Apr

Bulldog Baseball Fans

We met through a love of baseball – cheering on our three boys and their t-ball team. Now, a season or so later, I’m happy we were all able to get together again – this time to cheer on the Bulldog baseball team.

Georgia didn’t win but we all had a great time in the stands and watching all of our kids run the bases (twice) after the game. (Andrew may or may not have timed Nate. He was trying so hard to pass a much taller kid in front of him and was pretty McSpeedy. The girls did great in their flip-flops and fashion wear.)

Our boys aren’t on the same t-ball team this season (in fact, we have to play against each other in a few weeks!) but I have a feeling they will be rooting for each other from across the field. All three of them love the sport so purely and intently. They watched the entire game, wearing their gloves and talking stats.

Baseball buds.

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Dear Sister Note about the Play that Wasn’t

27 Mar

The play was for Literacy Day. Nate’s class had been learning songs about vowel sounds, rhyming words and speckle frogs for weeks. He sang in the shower and at the breakfast table to Nia, rehearsing – complete with finger snaps and an air guitar. He excitedly asked if we could watch him sing. The night before the big day finally arrived. He fell asleep singing, knowing I was going to be in the audience to see him shine with the other Kindergartens. Then, hours later, he woke up with a terrible coughing fit.

Sadly, he would miss his play – too tired from a rough night and too sick to sing on stage. He sang for me at the doctor’s office (white-wall video at the bottom of this post) and wrote Nia a note:

Signed: Sweet, Sicky Boy

Translated: “Nia, sorry I cannot come to school today because I am sick. I can do another play next year. Don’t worry, Nia. I have a bad cough. One thing why I can’t come. Two, I have a cold.”

He later added, “I hope I don’t have it anymore and I wish you don’t have it like me.”

Sweet, sicky boy. I’m glad you are feeling better now.

Proud Music Moments

23 Mar

Driving a scenic route, windows down, wind flooding in as music pours out from the car. My dad sings and drums the steering wheel, enjoying every beat, riff and word. With a hand-surfing the air, I absorb the sights passing by us – trying to focus on the branches of trees.

His music is different from mine. I am a kid, listening to Top 40 hits and the boy band of my dreams. He is an adult, listening to music with meaning created by celebrated and respected artists.

I listened during those drives through. I heard the difference and took note.

The Beatles. Bob Dylan. Fleetwood Mac. Rush. Peter Gabriel. Genesis. Steve Winwood. Kate Bush. Tori Amos. The Traveling Wilburys.

Because of my dad, I learned how to appreciate music more. Really listen to it. He loves music and wanted to share his favorites. It made him so happy. I thank him for opening my ears and heart to it. I love that I’m able to know songs that others are surprised I know.

I hope to pass on the respect for other music to the kids, too. I put some Beach Boys, Elvis and early Madonna on Nia’s MP3 and it’s already paying off. She was recently able to recognize Elvis and the Beach Boys among a restaurant’s playlist.

Took me right back to young, hand-surfing, me.

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