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She Held My Hand

14 Apr

I went on a field trip with Nia and learned more than the tour guides taught us. While the guides at the William Harris Homestead Home were interactively telling us about the Civil War, land ownership, cotton and life in the 19th Century, I was learning more about my little girl.

For example:

How she interacts with friends:

  • They would hold hands, whisper and giggle about things I didn’t quite understand.
  • They took care of her. One even made sure Nia could see and told another friend to “let our little one see.”

How her mind thinks:

  • She bravely raised her hand at almost every session to ask the guide a question or to try to answer their questions. She got a lot of praise for getting the question right about what would make the homemade candles a different color. “Maybe they were burned or something.” The guide seemed surprised and told her that not many people answer that one correctly. Nia beamed.
  • She searched for me in the crowd to connect eyes with me when they mentioned Savannah in one of their talks.

What makes her laugh:

  • She giggled at the silly speak that only her friends understood and at the jokes the tour guides told.
  • Hayrides. For sure.
  • She laughed at me when I tried to be funny in front of her friends. (I think I had a 78% success rate on my jokes but I should get extra points because I didn’t have to resort to potty humor for laughs.)

What makes her upset/concerned:

  • She was very concerned about one of her friends lying to me. (The little girl told me she had something in her lunch and Nia waited to see if she was telling the truth. Nia reports that she in fact – did not – have it in her lunch.)
  • She does not like line cutters. Not one bit.

I also learned that she was happy I was there. She genuinely wanted me around – reaching out for my hand several times and including me in her silliness with friends. Thank you for making me feel so welcome, Bean. I love hanging out with you and your buddies.

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Have Injury, Will Play

9 Apr

"I look like me again! Only three days and my face came back!" Nate, this morning.

Nate didn’t let his boo-boo face get in the way of this second ball game of the season. Just to capture a few memories:

  • He slid out at first but got a RBI on that. (Of course, I thought he was safe – or at least should have been given some “safe” points for the slide effort. I’m only half serious.)
  • He had to hit off the tee for his second at bat because Coach Daddy was pitching pretty wild in the 3rd inning. (Andrew was really beating himself up for that – two kiddos even got hit by his pitches. No one wants that pitching job, that’s for sure! Too much pressure!) Nate got to come home from that hit though – after a sweet slide into Second Base and then running around to home on the next few hits of his cutie teammates.
  • After a few missed catches at First, he caught two throws to him in the last inning and made those outs. (Sadly, I missed them because I was doing what mommy’s like to do sometimes – talk!)
  • He would look each runner on First up and down – kind of sizing the kid up. Pretty funny but then it also caused the other base runners to advance because he didn’t throw it to the pitcher quick enough for time to be called. Next practice topic.
  • He was chewing his gum all tough like a pro-player and when it fell out on the field and he took his glove off to figure out what to do with it, I actually shouted, “Put it back in your mouth!” I still don’t believe that came from my mouth. Thankfully, he really objected to that and Andrew was behind him to make it disappear.

Next game is Thursday!

In-field pop up on First Base Line

Ready

Fan of Her Little Brother

Daddy and Son

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A Bat, A CAT and A Nate Face

8 Apr

It hurts him. It makes it hard for him to breathe. It is swollen. It is NOT broken.

It happened at the batting cages last night. Nate and his team were practicing and (from what I understand) Nate was gathering the pitches and the batter brought the bat back to swing. That’s when Nate’s little nose took the blow.

Tears poured. TLC and ice flooded in. And he still wanted to take his turn batting.

After batting (with some great hits despite his injury), we realized we needed to do more than ice and hug. We couldn’t take the chance of a broken nose but we also couldn’t take the reality of a broken nose. They may have to re-break it or he may have to see a plastic surgeon. Those thoughts scared us for our little man. His tiny 5-year-old nose.

Thankfully, the CT Scan (which Nate said he was very still for) showed no breaks, just soft tissue damage that will swell worse and turn purple before it gets better. Nate first noticed that as he was brushing his teeth. He looked wide, teary eyed at himself in the mirror and reacted in heartbreak, “My face! My face looks funny! Kids are going to laugh.” I consoled him and told him that he did not look funny. That he was still Nate. That he looked tough, like a boxer. It would get better soon. I asked him what if mommy or Nia had it, would he say we looked funny? He said, “No, but you wouldn’t look this bad!”

Hugs and kisses, little man. For your sweet worries and your boo-boo.

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Right After It Happened

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One Hour and a Gatorade Moustache Later...

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Morning After

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Taking It All In

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Owie

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Right after this picture: "I play the Yankees tomorrow!"

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Science Experiment

4 Apr

That’s what Andrew calls his home brewing and now he’s teaching the kids. Not with hops and malt but with brown sugar and root beer flavor.

Andrew asked for a Mr. Root Beer kit for his birthday so he and the kids could brew together. They yummed at the smell of the packets and took turns helping pour, measure and stir their cola concoction. Once it was bottled, they had to wait a few days until it would be ready for sipping. Nia faithfully reminded Andrew to check on the bottles and was brimming with excitement when he announced it was time for floats.

To the kids, science is delicious.

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Strange Bedfellows

3 Apr

The objects I find in Nate’s bed after a nap or night’s sleep surprise me more and more with each discovery. I’m not just talking about the mountain of plush animals he has avalanching on his feet each night. Those are a given. I’m talking more about the:

  • Books
  • Valentine card from his girlfriend, Madeline
  • Wristwatch
  • Race cars/trains
  • Superhero action figures – including putting on his Spiderman costume
  • Baseball bat
  • Multiple baseball hats – one often being worn on his head as he emerges from his room
  • Baseball glove
  • Yep, baseball
  • Baseball trophy (I bet he won that pretend game he was playing.)

Sure seems like he’s having a blast in that bed. So much so, he falls asleep from exhaustion.

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From Disappointment to When’s Our Appointment?

28 Mar

Is it possible to say you had a good time at the doctor’s office? A doctor visit with a finger prick, urine test and shots? Also, a doctor visit involving two children under the age 8? Who would really feel like, “Whee! I’m taking my kids to be stabbed with a needle! Party!” Um, no. That’s why I can’t believe how awesome it is to take the kids their doctor now.

I used to dread it. When we first moved here, our doctor visits were agony. (All three of those < links in the previous sentence will share the past doctor drama with you.) I’m not saying I now look forward to a shot in the arm visit, but the kids’ new doctor’s office makes it worlds (WORLDS) better.

This doctor’s office never makes you feel like you are bothering them or that you were forgotten about while waiting. They send encouraging messages to parents like, “You are doing a great job with your children.” They talk to the kids and to parents, not at us. They genuinely seem to care about our children – what they do for fun, how they are doing in school what’s their favorite activity. They draw smiley faces and hearts on the hospital gown/shorts the kids wear during checkups. They know beneficial tricks to help make things like shots and strep tests less uncomfortable or scary for kids. (Not like when I had to forcibly hold toddler Nate down on the table at the last doctor.)

What’s even more cool about their doctor now is the Treasure Tower. The kids were given coins that would grant them the goody of their choice. (Our nurse gave the kids two each because Nate broke her heart with his pre-shot puppy dog tears. He and Nia both handled the shots like tough guys though. Not even a sniffle when the needle went in!) Along with the treasure of their choice, they got stickers and I also added a Chick-Fil-A milkshake to their after-shot spoiling. I’m pretty sure the kids won’t mind when we have to go back for the next check-up. Party at the pediatrician. Whee!

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Coins for Treasure Tower

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Shots in Arms, Milkshakes in Bellies

 

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The Weight of Birthdays

22 Mar

I’m calling for a shake up with how we celebrate birthdays. Be gone, “Eh, it’s just another day,” attitudes that many acquire in our older years. (I’m guilty.) I think it’s then that we should go all out like we did when we were young. Not necessarily stay up all night slumber parties, New Kids on the Block cakes or jumpy place parties but just more pronounced attention then many allow. It seems, as our numbers grow, the size and importance we put on our born day shrinks. Life gets in the way of life.

Shouldn’t we be rejoicing that our number is able to grow? That we are still here to celebrate the rotation of another year? Feel incredible to be given more precious days to enjoy and accomplish? Some people have battled cancer and won. Some have battled in war zones. Others have been through incomprehensible life journeys. And they are still here to experience another day while so many others are not. Why don’t we live for them?

I know it’s hard because who really likes getting older? We cling to our youth. Our energy. Our young skin and bones. The ability to sit cross-cross-applesauce. I pluck and cover my grays and sample that magic-promising anti-aging cream. But shouldn’t I be cherishing that I’m here to laugh at my aging pieces? Or that we have 35, 39, 43, 47, 54 and more tucked away in the shadow boxes of our memories?

Andrew remarked that he hasn’t had this many presents (for his 35th) since he was 12.  I hope it stays that way with each year because I know how very grateful I am to celebrate it with him. So very thankful we get to cycle through one more year of enjoying the smaller numbers and welcoming what’s next. Life.

 

Birthday Banana Pudding

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Bully Kryptonite

11 Mar

Does it even exist? A way for kids to render bullies powerless? To deal with/stay safe from their hurtful words/actions? Some options that come to my mind include:

  1. Ignore them
  2. Don’t let them get to you/see you upset
  3. Tell them to leave you alone/stop it
  4. Tell on them
  5. Kill ’em with kindness
  6. Fight fire with fire
  7. All of the above
  8. None of the above

Nia has tried really all but number 6. Fortunately for her, she is not being bullied as severely as many kids (my heart breaks for them) but the bullies she does encounter still make her upset and cause her stress.

Nia tells us that one girl continually scratches her and won’t leave her alone, constantly saying mean things. Another girl, Nia says, told her, “I wish you were a bug so that I could step on you a million times.”

What?! It’s just so hard to tell her how to handle it because she’s still so young and still trying to figure social interactions out. Plus, she’s often shy and very small for her age so others have always pushed her around more and targeted her. The kids seem unphased by all her peaceful kryptonite attempts so I’m left thinking number 6 from the list above may need to be used. But I don’t even want to tell her that option. It’s just so difficult when you try to raise your children to do what’s right and treat others kindly and then other kids get away with tormenting and mistreating. I often try to understand what’s going on in a child’s life to make them act in such a hurtful way. I suppose I live too much in the movies. Where there just has to be a happy ending where eventually the bully and the bullied become friends and walk off the playground arm-in-arm. Fist bump?

Yeah. Back to reality. I looked online for advice on how to at least help ease some of the fret Nia has and I found a few articles like this one and this one. She said it was a much better day when she didn’t speak to one of the girls. I know they can’t all be drama-free days but if she’s happy when I pick her up from afterschool, maybe a small piece of the kryptonite is working?

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Little Oriole

26 Feb

There once was a little boy who loved the Baltimore Orioles. He proudly owned shirts, hats and a pennant tacked to his bedroom wall. He had a book full of only Orioles baseball cards. He loved them despite their loses but admired them even more for Cal Ripken, Jr.

Now, that little boy just doesn’t know what to do with himself knowing that his little boy will soon be suiting up for tee-ball in an Orioles uniform.

We don’t have the official shirt and hat yet but that doesn’t mean Nate doesn’t have something to wear. He was awake and dressed before we were this morning. He can hit and run pretty well for a 5-year-old but we’re still working on that tie-the-shoes skill.

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Dressed & Ready Before Anyone

Andrew really made this season’s first practice special for him. He cooked him a baseball-themed breakfast with baseball pancakes and an Orioles beer mug full of apple juice. (I think we should invest in some kid-friendly Orioles cups, right?! Maybe even a water bottle for games.)

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Baseball Breakfast (That's APPLE JUICE!)

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Batter Up for Breakfast!

After loading up on two pancakes and three small pieces of bacon, Nate had a blast at his practice. He felt that he did so well that he told me, “Looks like I’m ready for big boy baseball!” Your heart and confidence may be ready, buddy, but you still need to grow into those baseball pants. Sweet, little Oriole. Daddy is so proud.

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Batting Practice

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Loves to Play Ball!

Here’s a short clip of him getting a single. I say that he growls but it was more of a grunt. Because, you know, that’s better. Such an intense player!

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When I Grow Up

21 Feb

One used a #2 pencil. The other used markers. Such innocent and casual ways to document such ginormous life decisions.

At the ages of 7 and 5, the kids have named what they want to do with the rest of their lives. They were both recently asked at school what they wanted to be when they grow up. Nia answered with “teach, movie star, sing, dance, draw and be sassy.” Sounds amazing and exhausting. I guess not as exhausting as Nate’s aspirations though. His drawing depicts them perfectly.

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Who knows? It may all happen. Andrew was about Nia’s age when he drew the picture below and he grew up to go to West Point, ride in tanks and look way hot in an Army Captain’s uniform.

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On the other hand, I used to draw pictures of a big haired, huge lipped, strapless dress, high-heel wearing lady who may or may not have represented a prostitute.

I was never good at art though.

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