Traditions

Last night, as my husband and I were snuggled up in the basement family room, me reading on my phone and petting the puppy, my husband watching Lebron bring basketball back to Cleveland, it hit me. "Tomorrow is Halloween!", I exclaimed, sitting up abruptly and accidentally pushing Marley Pup to the floor. "The Great Pumpkin needs to come tonight!". My husband visibly rolled his eyes. And I agree- it might seem silly to rush around and set out little trinkets for every holiday. Maybe. But to me, it's a memory. It's excitement. It's a tradition I started when my oldest son first joined our family. His first American holiday with his new family was the Fourth of July. He was so pleased with his little flag and star spangled stuffed bear. And I was pleased with his sweet smiley reaction. A tradition was born.

As the years have passed I have witnessed my oldest son sharing his excitement about this holiday tradition with his little brother. I know it won't be long before I will have to navigate the maze of one kid starting to question how these trinkets show up every holiday while one little one still full on believes. But for now, for a short while longer, I can enjoy sneaking around the kitchen late at night, setting out whatever little gift I found. Placing it on the kitchen table, at each boy's seat. The lights low, the hour late, it almost feels as though the warmth in the house is brought out exclusively by the fuzzy feelings of love these family traditions bring on. This glow follows me upstairs as I sneak in to each boy's room, checking on them, pulling blankets up, (on the oldest), and down off the face, ( of the youngest). It sticks with me as I wash my face and climb into bed. I fall asleep amid memories of past holiday mornings. The St. Patrick's Day when my oldest found a small watercolor set waiting for him. The Valentine's Day that both boys found new heart themed plates and cups waiting on the table for breakfast. The July Fourth that brought blinking star sunglasses.

And those memories are amazing, sure. But it is what is underneath those little gifts that bring the true power of family traditions. The memory of sitting at the kitchen table painting with my son. Those heart themed plates? We still use them. And they still make me smile.

Family Meeting Night. Chinese Tea Parties. Apple picking. Christmas lights viewing. New Christmas books to read at bedtime. Bedrooms filled with birthday balloons. And little inexpensive gifts for holidays, always waiting on the kitchen table, ready to greet my boys as they bound down the steps in the morning. Family traditions are important. I already knew they were important to me. And every holiday, as I listen to my boys talk about the "Great Pumpkin", or the mysterious Valentine's Day gift giver, I begin to understand more and more how very important holiday traditions are to my boys as well. This morning, while my oldest son slept, his little brother ran to his place at the table, exclaiming at the spider covered drinking cup and puffy Halloween stickers. As I was sitting down to join him, gently cradling my mug of steaming coffee, the lights low and the house quiet except for my son's giggles, I smiled at my sweet husband. The skeptical one. The roller of the eyes.

"You know, when I was a kid, I only had Santa, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy visit my home. You are a very lucky boy.", my husband said, as he picked up the cup to get a closer look at the spooky spiders. I nodded my head in agreement, knowing that he understood why this tradition was so important to me. These two sweet boys had nothing. They came to us malnourished, scared, with no understanding of family or love. I want to give them the world. And I know that giving them the world really means giving them pieces of me to carry with them as they grow.

Family traditions. Tonight my boys will bounce into the house after school, ready to throw on their costumes and rush out into the damp rainy evening collecting candy from our new neighbors. But not before they eat a delicious dinner of meatball mummies with "bloody" tomato dipping sauce. (I am the mom of boys, after all!) This weekend we will cut out colorful construction paper leaves to write our "thankful thoughts" on. And throughout November, as I move about the kitchen, preparing meals, washing dishes, packing lunches, I will read and re-read each of those leaves, reminding myself of our many blessings. Big, like Forever Families, and small, like Coffee. Big to my boys, like Winning the Football Championship and small, like Crunching Leaves Under Our Feet as We Walk the Dog.

Creating these thankful thoughts won't be easy for my boys. Tracing the leaves, cutting them out- that they can do. But thinking thankful thoughts, reminding yourself to enjoy the small bits of life in between the big stuff- that is something that must be modeled and taught. Another positive result of family traditions, teaching stuff our kids need to know but don't always pick up on their own.

And after that we will move on to our next family tradition, marking the change in seasons and the growth in my family, as little trinkets go from matchbox cars to football cards, to God only knows what a teenage boy would find fun. Giving little gifts is fun for me, sure. Building memories, establishing a strong sense of family, teaching my boys to appreciate the little joys in life, and sharing with them the joys of anticipation, that is what creating family traditions is really about. Family traditions help to define our lives. They can provide a strong sense of safety and can ground us in this confusing world. 

 So this one has passed. And I am already dreaming of  turkey shaped erasers and heart covered pencils, (in blue, for my boys, of course!).

Don't let Him Get Hit in the Head With Any Balls!

My oldest son just left to go to a baseball game with my husband. The last thing I said to them as they walked out the door was, "Don't let him get hit in the head with any balls!" And I wasn't kidding. I swear, if this child loses any brain cells he will melt into one huge hot mess. An even bigger mess than he already is, I mean.

Thanks to my youngest, anxious, sensory seeking son, our lives revolve around lists and regimen. Our boys have daily tasks listed on their individual clipboards, for which they are rewarded for completing. I know. I can hear you cringing now. I never thought I would bribe my kids to do "what needs to be done" either. I got over it, and so should you. For the peace of my family and to salvage what sanity I have left, we moved to doling out treats and small coins just to get my boys to brush.their.teeth. For the love of God boys, just put your shoes in the closet and hang up your coats!

Now we use clipboards, which they LOVE. And by LOVE, I mean they run to them first thing in the morning and first thing after school, and right before bed, to read their lists and mark off their tasks. They compare treats and my youngest little non reader is even sounding out the first letter of the words on his list, so that he can be sure to check off the right task. Beds are made and stuffed animals are picked up off the bedroom floor. Sure, it looks like a monkey did the job, but I don't care. Shoes, coats and backpacks find their way into the closet and, usually, I don't have to beg someone to set the table for dinner. The dinner dishes are miraculously cleared and the dog is fed twice a day. And I do very little to assure all that magic happens.

So we live and breath lists. My super smart 7 year old reads his list and completes his tasks.

1. Do your homework without complaining- to him this means lots of procrastination and sighing, and sometimes, even a little arguing. It also means leave your homework papers on the kitchen counter, dining room table, and bathroom. (These are all places I found homework this morning alone.)
2. Help clean up dinner- he reads this and hears leave all the place mats out, put the ketchup in the fridge only if it is a Monday, drop food on the floor and leave napkins out, which, basically means put the paper napkins directly into the dog's mouth.
3. Throw snack trash away- or just simply toss it in the vicinity of the trash can. Which translates to "place directly into the dog's mouth".
4. Brush your teeth- that's right folks, I am rewarding my son for brushing his teeth. I do hope the Mother of the Year people will be able to find me at my new address.

He means well, and he tries so hard. But Lord this kid is clueless sometimes! He walks into the kitchen and just stands there. He runs upstairs to get something for me and comes down empty handed. He leaves everything he owns scattered throughout the house. My precious boy- so smart, but no sense.  His straight A homework is crumpled and battered. The only time he misses a question on his work is when he is working so fast that he literally misses answering the question. He can't remember to turn in homework or write his name on a test, but he has the wherewith all to collect telephone numbers from friends on the bus so I can set up play dates. Which, by the way, he no longer refers to as play dates. Just pull the knife out already!

Some parents worry that their kids will grow up and one day leave them behind to pursue their dreams. I worry that I will have to rent the dorm room next to my son's and dole out M&Ms to get him through the day!

A Letter to My Neighbors, or Warm Weather is Coming!

Dear Brand New Neighbors,

Thank you for the hospitality you have shown to my family! In the past six weeks since we have moved in you have waved to us as we waited at the bus stop. You have stopped on your evening walks to introduce yourself. We have been told "welcome to the neighborhood" numerous times and have received the low down on the pool, trick or treat and the home vists that Santa makes. (That's right, Santa will visit us, right here at home- awesome!). I want you to know how much I appreciate each and every one of you. I want you to hang on to that thought.

The day after we moved in the snow hit. The frigid temps were already here, so we have spent most of the past six weeks holed up inside our awesome new home. Sure, we have been out a few times. My oldest son has enjoyed riding his bike down the sidewalk while we wait for the bus. My youngest has had fun shoveling the driveway, flinging snow into, well, the driveway. Yeah, he's not very good at it. Both boys and the 11th month old puppy have spent time running around the fenced in backyard, attempting to climb trees while avoiding the thawing presents the dog has left all over the yard.

You have smiled and waved. And like I said, I really appreciate it. But here's the thing. You met us in the deep of a very cold, very snowy, and very long winter. You saw my little family in tiny blurs of pent up energy. A seven year old hunched over his bike, racing away from us down the sidewalk. A four year old, out of breath, pushing a shovel heavy with snow. A sweet little white puppy pulling on her leash. And you, my new neighbor, you are so sweet. And I hate to say this. I really hate to say this out loud, but here goes. You haven't seen nothing yet.

Warm weather is coming. And once it is here to stay there are a few things you should probably know. My boys are loud. They are often wild. They are always dirty. Here is a glimpse into what you may see and hear from our little corner of Misty Lake this summer...

• Various voices, adult and child, screaming the words "Alex! Stop that!" repeatedly.
• A seven year old riding his bike at top speed down the sidewalk while holding a large stick over his head like Braveheart.
• A puppy bouncing around in the middle of street thanks to a young child leaving the garage door open. This will be accompanied by lots of voices screaming "Marley!" in unison.
• Sirens from the ambulance that will be called when one, or both, boys fall from one of the large trees in the backyard.
• A mother shouting out the kitchen window. These shouts may include phrases such as "Get down from that tree!", "Don't do that to your brother!", and "Don't do that to the dog!".
• Various toys, sticks, and stuffed animals flying over the fence.
• Screaming from the youngest boy when his favorite toy, stick, or stuffed animal goes flying over the fence.
• Screeching so loud you will be convinced someone is dying. No one is dying. Please do not call the cops.
• What looks like a bunch of misfits from the local circus walking around the block. These clowns may have bikes, scooters, a dog, or various stuffed animals with them. Oh, and they're not actually clowns looking for their circus. They would be my family. Oh, and they probably won't be walking as much as rolling and vibrating down the sidewalk, accompanied by a tired looking mother yelling out to them to "Slow down for the love of God!".  Sigh.
• Numerous apologies from the talls in the house, on behalf of the littles. Numerous. NUMEROUS.

So, thanks for the welcomes and the waves and the smiles. Here's hoping they keep coming once the sun starts shining!

Sincerely,
Your New Neighbor

Raising Gentlemen

The other day my super six year old was at our church's weekly kids program where he made a snack out of pretzels and mini marshmallows. He came home with two baggies of this snack, one for himself, and one for two little girls, a set of twins, at his school. Now, little girls have been crushing on my cutie pie for years now, but he has never really seemed to notice this before. Now, it seems, he has caught on. So now it begins.

I want my  boys to be happy. I want them to make those around them happy. I want them to be good friends to their friends, and then good significant others. Since the addition of our second son I have been thinking about how to raise boys into men a lot more than I used to. With our first son I just sort of figured it would all work out. And it probably would have. But with our youngest son I know that might not be the case. I think about his future and how I want him to be happy in his own skin. I want both my boys to be happy with themselves, and to be confident and strong.  I know the training for this starts young,  and I know I need to:

Teach him to say "hello"... I feel as though I am constantly telling my super six year old to say "hello", or to acknowledge, in some way, that someone is speaking to him. Talking to someone and not getting a reply drives me crazy. I want my boys to understand that respect starts with listening and then responding- showing that you are listening.

Date him...  My super six year old loves his "matthew and mommy time", so convincing him to put on a sweater and nice pants and go out to dinner with me shouldn't be too hard. My husband and I were just talking the other day about how it is time now, he is old enough, for me to start showing my oldest son just what it means to spend time with a friend. We have been having our "matthew and mommy time", and our "alex and mommy time", for some time now, but it has always been on their level. Now my oldest is old enough to push this into other learning opportunities.

Teach him to appreciate a friend's brain and talents... we are more than the size of our bodies or the clothes we wear. "Your friend Spencer is a really good artist", I might say to my oldest son. "Look how good your Daddy is at putting that puzzle together." And don't only appreciate it, but

Speak up and share his good thoughts. "Maggie is really good at running races. She is almost as fast as me!", my super six year shared the other day. "Did you tell her that?" "No."  I know my sons are not going to learn to compliment others on their talents unless I show them. I compliment them all the time, but do they hear me tell others my good thoughts?

Teach him to be kind... I can tease my husband or my sister, sure. But I also need to show kindness to others. Embarrassing others is not the way to make friends, even if it does sometimes make everyone laugh. Everyone except the one being teased, of course.

Teach him compassion... This is especially important for me, because I have a little one who may have a hard time with this as he ages. Not only do I need to show compassion for my boys, but I need to show it towards others, especially strangers, as well. I need to help my boys connect their feelings to words, and help them understand that everyone has these feelings. My boys and I talk a lot about others and how they are feeling, as well as about how each of them are feeling too.

Teach him to be a gentleman... My super six year old will often hold the door for someone as we leave a building. He will occasionally pick up something I have dropped. His helpfulness comes and goes, of course, as I would expect at his age. Boys need to learn to hold doors open. They need to learn to say "please" and "thank you". Especially "thank you". They need to learn to ask an older adult "How are you today?", and to give up their seat to an older person, if seats are scarce. I don't care if you are a friend, a mother, a girlfriend or a teacher of a boy; everyone appreciates boys who are taught to act like gentlemen. Right now we are working on "walking like a gentleman", something I seem to say every day as my boys tumble out of daycare every evening. The good news? My super six year old will usually hold the door open for that mom carrying the baby carrier and trying to hold the hands of two other children. We are getting there...

This is what we feel is important around here. Raising up our boys to be spiritual, compassionate gentlemen, while still allowing them to be all boy. If they want to wrestle with each other in the backyard more power to them. If they want to be killer fast on the football field, great. If my summer vacation revolves around monster truck shows and a NASCAR race, so be it. But while we are on that vacation, while we are at that race or truck show, I expect my boys to be respectful and gentlemanly. After all, didn't they used to say "Gentlemen, start your engines?" It's all a balancing act, this raising boys into men.

I'm frustrated, but thankful for coffee, wine, and that moment right before the sun comes up

These past few weeks have been, well, difficult. And I can't really put my finger on why. The tiny toddler, who seems to swing up and down with his behavior issues, has been swinging down lately. Way down. But I've been through that before. The house has been especially messy and I have been feeling as though no one else who lives here can see that. Again, nothing new. Our schedule has been busy, with trips to Cleveland. Long car trips with little people. Little whiny people. But again, nothing new. Maybe it's my husband being out of work. Maybe it's the plans we have had to put on hold. Maybe it's the seemingly constant day care issues. Maybe I am just now mourning the loss of Desperate Housewives. All I know is  I have spent the past few weeks on an emotional roller coaster and I really don't know why. Maybe I have been ignoring the signs. Maybe my 42 year old hormones are ready for an assist. Who knows, right? All I can say is, these past few weeks have been oh so difficult. And if I knew why, I would FIX IT ALREADY!

So last night I was watching a rerun of The Middle, the one where the mom has had enough of her less than appreciate family and runs off to her mother's house. And I thought, great! Where are the car keys? Only, I don't have a mother's house, anymore. And even if I did, my mother never really was the comforting type. Somehow I would wind up listening to her complain about her life, when clearly I needed someone to listen to me complain about mine. So I went to bed a little sad. My closest friends live two hours away. My sister lives two hours away. My kitchen floor is a mess.

I woke up this morning an hour before the alarm went off, thinking about life. And I made a decision to JUST STOP IT. I got up, found my beloved flip flops, and went downstairs. I made coffee and sat at the kitchen table, during my favorite time of day. When all the boys in my life are sleeping and it is not yet sunny, so the floor looks cleaner and the dust bunnies aren't dancing in the light streaming in the window above the fireplace. I drank my coffee, said a prayer, thought about my life. I checked my email and planned next week's dinners. I emptied the dishwasher and folded some laundry. I set out breakfast for the boys and then I sat there, just drinking coffee and breathing. Coffee that I made myself, instead of the usual way, which is with two little boys sitting on the counter fighting with each other over who is going to push which button while I attempt to keep them from puncturing their hand on the kuerig's sharp needle. What should take 15 seconds takes 5 minutes with their "help". So I drank. And I took deep breaths. And I let. it. go.

This is my world. And here is what I know. for. sure....

• my kitchen floor will always be dirty.
• the three boys living in my home cannot see the dirt/clothes on the floor/toys everywhere.
• I will step on at least 3 matchbox cars a day.
• my husband means it when he says he wants me to constantly tell him what I need him to do. I call it nagging, but he seems to be OK with it, so now I am that wife.
• At any given moment there will be boys sitting, standing, crawling on my kitchen counters. Any attempt to stop them will be met with whining.
• I will read the book about monster trucks at least 1,000 more times.
• Bath time = water absolutely everywhere.
• I will always need to repeat myself.
• I will always need to repeat myself.
• My husband loves me. He drives me totally crazy, sure, but he does love me.
• Every book the tiny toddler owns will always find their way to our bedroom floor.
• Attempting to correct behavior issues happening at daycare, when I am not sure I trust that they are actually happening, requires an extraordinary amount of patience and energy.
• Potty training sucks.
• Parenting an adopted toddler that first year home is WAY harder than bringing home a 14 month old.
• Coffee can solve a multitude of problems.
• Wine can solve everything else.
• Teaching boys, young and old, to respect women is an ongoing lesson.
• If I don't like the way life is going, I can't blame anyone else. I can fix it, or I can let it go.

So I'm back on top. For now. Wish me luck, peeps.

my mother's day wish list

Mother's Day is this Sunday. I am hopeful for a specific present but since I also asked for said present for my birthday a few months ago I don't have high hopes. But it's all good. Whatever my boys do, or don't do, it will be a great day. After all, there were years that I thought I would never get to celebrate my own Mother's Day, so I am happy just to be a mom. No, really.

But if I were to daydream about the perfect Mother's Day present, previously asked for gift aside, my wish list might look something like this:

• 20 clean fingernails on my two young sons. I can't find a fingernail brush at any store for my two little dirt balls  sweeties.
• No Cheerios or off brand Fruit Loops in the living room. Not.A.Single.One. Not under the sofas, not smashed between the pages of a book, not hiding in the coffee table drawer....
• Just one morning where the big five year old doesn't kick his wet pull up off his body and into the air as high as he can while Mommy ducks so as not to be hit as it lands with a thud. Just throw the thing away already!
• A kitchen floor that stays clean for more than 2 minutes.
• Beer.
• No cat messes on the carpet.
• The tiny toddler happily accepting whatever food item is offered, the first time. 
• My sweet husband's iPhone mysteriously getting lost for a few hours.
• Using the bathroom without anyone pounding on the door or any tiny fingers pushing tiny cars under the door.
• No one under the age of 40 waking me up. 
• A drawer full of matching socks for the big five year old. Why that boy never has clean socks might forever be a mystery to me. 
• No football games, play groups, birthday parties, or lessons of any kind to get to. And all that that implies- no packing apple slices and drink boxes, no loading the car with chairs and strollers, no martial arts uniform to wash and iron...
• Some really good ice cream.
• Nobody saying the word "poop". 24 hours of not hearing that word. Just give me that.
• A winning lottery ticket. Let me clarify. I am not interested in one of those tickets where I win $5.00. I mean a solid, quit your job and stay home swimming in your brand new in ground pool winning ticket. 
• Sex when I am still awake enough to enjoy it. 
• The Christmas lights taken down off the shrubs in the front of the house. That's right, we're that family.
• Marry Poppins landing with her umbrella in my backyard and happily and efficiently potty training my tiny toddler.
• A guilt free shopping spree where I buy only clothes for me. No tiny underwear, no tiny socks, nothing for my sweet husband. Me. Only for me.
• No Tom & Jerry on TV. 
• The organizing fairy showing up to clean out and pull together the closet in the office.
• Time to watch a totally cheesy chick flick, complete with popcorn.
• Being able to use the laptop without any little people tugging on my pants and demanding their turn.
• No guilty feeling when I walk past the shower in the master bath. No wondering when I last cleaned it. I mean really cleaned it, and not the quick once every two weeks half hearted wipe it gets now.
• No one in my house having sticky hands and fingers and touching absolutely everything. 
• The tiny toddler finally understanding that he does not need to scream as though his head in stuck in the rails of his crib just because he has pulled a special little something out of his nose and  wants to show it me. I am sleeping. I do not need to see your boogers at 6am. GO BACK TO SLEEP! 
• A decent photo of me and my boys. One where no one is frowning, no one has their head cocked so far to the right they are out of the photo, no one is holding a toy in front of their mouth or pinching their brother.
• Nobody whining. 

I know. Dream on, right? Maybe, just maybe  Mary Poppins will materialize in my backyard but there is no way we could make it through the day with no Tom & Jerry or whining...

But it's all good. A kiss and hug from my boys. That is all I really need for Mother's Day.