Unrequited Love

A few years ago, Ted brought home an article about the top Boston restaurants. The article pointed out how, especially in the fiercely competitive recession-driven market, restaurants woo their customers not just with great food, but also with service that goes above and beyond. It mentioned several local restaurants by name, citing extras like quietly taking reading glasses to a table when a patron strained to read the menu, keeping flashlights tucked in waiters' pockets for dimly lit tables, offering elegant shawls for shivering, spaghetti strap clad patrons, and that any outstanding restaurant should know your name after you've dined with them three times. I'm a big fan of looking at things as a whole experience. If I got out to dinner, it's not just the food that matters, but the atmosphere, the company, the service. Ted and I don't go out to dinner that often, but we do hold sacred a weekly Date Night tradition. Our favorite local spot, by far, is Toro. By our best estimate, we have eaten there 40 times in the last two years. They have amazing food, and we love the vibe there. We're not the only ones who feel that way. On weekends, it's always packed, with a long wait for tables. And of course, they don't take reservations. I think all of that is fine, smart even. I can't say I'd do anything differently if were the owner. But, sometimes, the whole experience there is ruined for me, by their lack of appreciation for frequent patrons. I never gave much credence to that article Ted read, and even thought the idea of a restaurant knowing your name after 3 visits was kind of crazy. But, after 40?

We know how things work at Toro, so try to plan accordingly. We either head there as soon as the babysitter arrives, or plan to put our name down, go do something else, and then head back to eat after an hour or so. But, sometimes even careful planning doesn't work. We've arrive at 6pm (well before prime dining hour in Boston,) only to be told that, due to a party of 14 who they're trying to clear most of the restaurant out for, we won't be seated for 2 1/2 hours. Last week we showed up at 6, and were told that they took reservations that night (for Restaurant Week) and were already booked for the entire evening. The hostess suggested we come back the next week. We did. Unfortunately, they had done the same thing again. And despite the fact that WE know everyone in the restaurant, we've never gotten so much as a "welcome back" from the hostesses. (The waitstaff, thankfully, tend to be more friendly than the gatekeepers.) I don't expect to be ushered to the best table in the house as soon as we walk in the door. But, I would think that a restaurant could squeeze two of their best customers in at some point in the evening, even when they're fully booked, rather than turning them away. Twice. An occasional "hello," and "welcome back" would be nice too. Mostly though, I would just like to feel recognized and appreciated as a customer, knowing that we will be treated better than a person walking into the restaurant for the first time. Toro is a special place for us. I'd like to know that we're special for Toro as well. Maybe then I won't be so conflicted - loving the food, but hating the welcome. Until then, we'll keep going. We love it too much to stop.

Weight Limit

I got a letter in the mail from Elliot's school today, saying that, pursuant to MA general laws, Elliot was screened for a healthy BMI. Not surprisingly, he did not fall in the healthy range (anywhere between the 5th and 85th percentiles.) Based on his school assessment, his BMI was 12, which was, "Off Scale". Ironically, I had also noticed myself that Elliot seemed skinnier than usual lately, so I made an appointment with our pediatrician for a weight check on Thursday. But, me noticing it and getting a letter from the school about it feel entirely different. Elliot is a terribly picky eater, and Ted and I both refuse to serve the kids special kid-friendly meals. We also buy very little junk food. If the kids don't like what we serve, they are stuck waiting until the next snack or meal time for something different. Elliot constantly complains that he is hungry, but often refuses to eat what we serve. Dinner is our biggest challenge. I struggle, watching him leave the table having eaten little or nothing several nights a week. Everyone assures me that kids will not starve themselves; if they are hungry they will eat. I believe this myself, but have to wonder if I don't have the one exception to the rule in front of me. Most people tell me I'm lucky, especially in today's climate of childhood obesity, but getting a child to try and like new foods seems just as challenging as getting one who loves food to eat less.

Along with their letter, the school also sent home a form that our family doctor must sign. So now, with a little extra dose of guilt, I'm headed off to the see the pediatrician tomorrow, form in hand.

(The photos at left were taking during a particularly unpleasant dinner over the weekend, before I received the letter. Elliot was forcing down a piece of ketchup covered meat, and sulking about the terrible dinners I make.)

Bruntrager-isms

Every family has their own unique sayings. Most of them originate when a child uses a word or expression not quite right. Sometimes, those funny little mistakes just stick. Here are some of my favorites from our house:

Verse
To play against, in a sport. This was coined by Jack, who uses it like this: "Who are the Bruins versing today?"

Crash Road
This is something the kids like to yell in the car when they think we're driving too fast, or we're on a curvy road. I'm not really sure who said this first, but Jack, Mattie and Elliot all love it. I first heard it whilst the passenger in the car on Newton Street in Weston, which is a windy country road.

Ternimal
This comes from Jack. It is one of those words that he just can't seem to remember, no matter how many times we remind him or correct him. Now all the kids just call them ternimals.

Thirty
This is how Mattie says "Thursday", but he uses it to refer to any day that has already happened, as in "Do you remember when I had ice cream at my birthday on Thirty?" Mattie coined this term last summer, when he first started to understand the concept of day and time.

Old MacDonald's
This is what my kids call McDonald's restaurant. Somehow confused between his favorite song, Old MacDonald, and the fast food joint, Jack combined both concepts into one name. Although Jack invented this misnomer, it seemed to make sense to all the kids. Mattie was left with no room for doubt last summer when we actually ate at McDonald's and they gave him a toy barn in his Happy Meal. Hard to argue with that kind of proof.

Muffina
The stroller foot muff. Jack, always the muffin lover, came up with this funny name as a 3 year old after hearing me talk about the stroller foot muff one cold day. The next time we went out in the stroller, he asked me to cover him with the muffina. We still call it that today.

Salami Chops
Another Jack original, for sloppy Joe's. When Jack first had sloppy Joe's he was probably 3. He didn't like them at all. The next time he saw them, he started to cry, "I don't like Salami Chops!" What can I say, it stuck.

The Chameleon Store
Elliot came up with this name for a convenience store when he was 3. We were walking down the street one day and he asked if we could go to the chameleon store. I had no idea what he was talking about, so I asked where it was, when we had gone there, and what we bought in an attempt to figure out what he meant. He told me we went there lots of times, and that they sold fish. Based on that description, I thought he meant either the regular grocery store, or the pet store. It took me several weeks, but we finally returned to the convenience store, where Elliot happily pointed out some purple gummy fish candy that Grammy had bought for him the summer before. Mystery solved. Ted and I liked the chameleon store nickname so much, I think we encouraged the use of that one.

Quítama
This is one of the oldest Bruntrager-isms. Jack created this word when he was one. It took us along time to figure out what it meant. He would look at something, and say "quítama". For a long time, we thought he was referring to a triangle shape, but we figured out, much later, that he was using the word to describe the shape that is made by three points or objects coming together. He had a shape sorter with a lid. If you put the lid flat on the ground, then put one of each shape into the hole, and lifted up the lid, you were left with the three shapes in a triangle. We think that is the origin of the word, as he used to love to play that game with the shapes. It's a strange one, and not one we use often, but we'll always remember this as one of Jack's first words, and own invention.

Chopstick
This is how Jack refers to chapstick. Again, no matter how many time we explain the difference, he still asks me to buy him chopstick when his lips are dry.

Ding Dong
This is what anyone in our house yells when they are being teased, or when they're trying to check if someone is kidding. Coined by Elliot, you can read more about it in this post.

Quote of the Day

"Mama, one day you can go to the zoo with Daddy and I'll stay home with Daddy. You can see the lions and hear them roar. You'll only be gone for one minute, and I won't have to hear them, because I don't like them. They're loud and scary. Ok, Mama?"

Mattie has just recently started to be afraid of things (or at least to verbalize his fear.) He's expressed fear of being in his room alone at bedtime, the dark, and especially of the "Spooky Old Tree" book (which Jack and Elliot have always loved.) Apparently, we can add lions, or at least lions roaring to that list...

Adorable Theo

Kid Therapy

THEN...

I can't believe it. Theo is one today. YAY! I still have his birth announcement hanging on my desk and the side of my refrigerator. It seems like just a few months ago. He is climbing and talking, almost walking, and in every way a new little toddler. I feel sad when I think about the fact that I no longer have a baby in the house. I also worry that the easy part is over! It's easy to be an unattached adult. It's also easy to be the parent of a baby. But, parenting toddlers and adolescents, now there's a challenge for even the strongest among us. Add a few other children into the mix, and you have the making of an Olympic caliber endurance sport! Parenting older kids requires lots of love, and grace under pressure. Every day you will find yourself thrown into situations that require you to act (or react) calmly, quickly, and smartly. We rise to the challenge in order to teach our children how to manage their behavior and emotions. But, it's easier said than done. We have to manage our  behavior and emotions first. It's not enough to tell our kids what we want them to learn. We have to show them. We have to live as an example. Think about it. When things aren't going well, are we truly patient? Unselfish? Kind? Good listeners? Honest? Work well with others? Do our best? Well, if we didn't quite learn all of these things perfectly ourselves as kids, we get a second chance as parents! This is something I find to be really difficult, especially in times of stress. And it is what I like to call "Kid Therapy". It forces us to confront our weaknesses and shortcomings. Interacting with our kids when they're stressed, we get to practice how to handle ourselves. It's how parenthood teaches us to be better people, and how we grow into our roles as parents. So, as I look at my sweet new toddler Theo, and Mattie, Elliot and Jack, I'm thinking about our future years together, and all the lessons I'll help them learn, while I'm still learning along the way.

...AND NOW

The Dinner Hour

Parenthood is cyclical. When you've gotten out of one stage for just long enough to forget, it comes around again. I'm struggling anew these days with the dinner hour. Mattie is 3. He's not old enough to entertain himself for very long, and though he wanders the house freely, I still need to keep tabs on him. When Jack was that age, I plopped him in front of the TV for 30-45 minutes, and the hour passed calmly and quietly. But, somewhere between Jack and Mattie, I removed the TV from our lives. Mattie usually spends this hour before dinner looking for attention. His strategy often entails walking up to one of his brothers and throwing himself on them, or wrestling them to the ground. If that doesn't work, he'll try hitting them with something, or throwing a toy in their direction.

I noticed recently that Mattie's afternoons and evenings were increasingly being spent in a never ending series of time outs. He desperately wants to join Jack and Elliot in their play. They spend most of their free time playing indoor floor hockey. Since Mattie doesn't understand the rules, or want to try to learn them, their 3 way matches end poorly. I usually spend the hour nursing Theo, trying to get Theo down for a nap, or making dinner (with Theo on my back if he's not fussing in his crib.) Needless to say, I don't have much time to play with Mattie either. On several recent days I gave up, and turned on the TV, but the peace was only momentary before Mattie (who's never been a big TV fan,) returned to his usual tactics.

So, I took a deep breath, and thought about how I got through this with Elliot, years ago. I recalled the "TV" chapter in Katrina Kenison's book, where she describes her own struggle to keep her youngest son occupied during the dinner hour after getting rid of their TV, and I got to work. The first night, I set Mattie up at the table with a painting project. I spent a lot of time changing the water in his brush bowl, but he had a wonderful time. The second night, I appointed Mattie official dishwasher, and filled the sink up with soapy water and non-breakable kitchen items. He went through an extra set of clothes, and made it a bit difficult for me to wash and prep food, but again, had a wonderful time. Another night, I gave in to one of his many requests to help, and let him make the cucumber salad. I peeled and sliced the cucumber, he cut the slices in half and filled the bowls. It's not always easy to manage yet another project during the dinner hour, but I've been reminded at how rewarding the little extra effort can be. Not only has Mattie stayed out of time out, but he's been much more interested in helping me out in other ways around the house. Jack and Elliot have been able to play hockey uninterrupted. And I am definitely spending less time overall interacting positively with Mattie than I was in dealing with his negative behavior.

I love that Parenthood is a journey. There's no rule book, no instructional manual, and even seasoned veterans find themselves in need of practice and reminders. So much of the person I am today has been shaped by this journey. I think about myself pre-kids, and what my path in life would have been like had I never traveled down this road. I feel like I wouldn't even recognize myself now, and what a shame that would be. I really like the person I've become.

Week in Review

We had another busy, fly-by week. Too busy to write about everything, but here are some of the highlights...

It was school picture day. Elliot chose to wear a "work tie".

The kids had a day off. Mattie celebrated by falling off his chair and getting stitches. Again.

I got dressed up and went out to get a job. (I wouldn't have made it without that iced tea.)

And while all of this, plus much, much more, was going on, Spring sprung in Boston. Hooray!

Highs and Lows

Jack and Elliot participated in their Cub Scout Pack's annual Pinewood Derby Race this past weekend. I had my first experience with the whole Derby last year. If you've never participated in (or watched) one, suffice to say it's amazing. The kids work very hard (with a parent) to make their cars, and the race is fast, frenzied and fun! Quite unexpectedly, we turned out two champion race cars. Jack and Elliot both won first place for their age group. And, Jack took first place overall, and Elliot 4th. We didn't do anything remarkably different from last year, when Jack's car won its first race, then lost the next two, knocking it out of competition. Jack and Elliot were thrilled with their success, and we brought home our first (truly earned) Bruntrager family trophy.

As a parent, there's nothing greater than watching your child succeed and win, especially after hard work. But, unfortunately, things don't always go that way. As high as the Pinewood Derby win lifted Jack on Saturday, hockey try-outs knocked him down just as low last night. Jack has had a long and rewarding season this winter on an instructional team. This last week of ice time is devoted to "trying out" for next season. (There are no cuts; they place the kids on A, B, or C level teams, based on ability.) He's graduating from the instructional team, and joining the regular, age-divided "Squirt" team next year. Last night, Jack got out there on the ice, and was clearly the worst skater of the group. He lagged behind the other kids in the drills, and had trouble completing some of the skating challenges at all. He came off the ice sad, frustrated, and demoralized. Hockey is Jack's favorite thing. It means more to him than anything else right now. The look in his eyes after try-outs broke my heart.

I know that there are important lessons to be learned both from winning and losing. I know that both experiences build character, and help us grow stronger and wiser. But, as a mother, I still wish that I could protect Jack from the pain of loss. I look at Theo, so sweet, and happy, and perfect in his innocence. I can hold him and rock him, and kiss away his sadness and wounds. But, already Jack is moving beyond my grasp. I can still hold him, telling him everything will be alright. But, he will carry with him the memories and scars from his falls now. Sometimes I think about the future. Jack and I move together into the world of adolescence, experiencing it both as a mother and a child for the first time. The try-outs offered me a glimpse into what our future holds. I'm reminded yet again, that while some things about parenting get easier as your child grows, some aspects of it get much more difficult. I know the hurts will get deeper, and the falls will get harder. I'm not looking forward to them. I hope that Jack weathers them well, and that I will always find a way to love and uplift him. And I hope for many more wins in his life, along with the losses.

Quote of the Day

Overheard during Jack's and Elliot's imaginary hockey game today:

"Mama Bruntrager was hooking. She gets a two minute penalty." - Jack

A Lesson Learned?

We had another trauma drama in our house last Friday night. While practicing inside with Ted and Jack, Elliot peeled some of the metallic tape (at right) off of his hockey stick. He crumpled up the pieces and threw them onto the floor. Theo crawled right over and ate one of them. Unfortunately, the tape was almost cellophane thin, and sticky, so it did not go down well. It managed to get lodged in the back of Theo's throat. He coughed, gagged, vomited and cried, but the tape would not come up or go down. After about 15 or 20 minutes, we decided to take him to the hospital. I knew that I would never make it driving to the hospital myself with Theo in the backseat in his carseat. I also knew that it would be impossible to mobilize four kids (one gagging and vomiting) to make a speedy exit. And, I was worried that the tape might somehow move and obstruct his airway. We called the pediatrician and 911, and an ambulance came. En route to the hospital, he managed to completely swallow the tape, and was instantly fine. They still wanted to check him at the hospital. He had a chest x-ray, and they x-rayed the rest of the tape (which was clear on x-ray, so most likely plastic.)

After a surprisingly quick and painless ER visit, I took Theo back home. His brothers, by this time, were in bed. Jack has always been worried about Theo putting things in his mouth, and was beside himself when Theo ate the tape. I knew I needed to reassure Jack that Theo was home and fine. When I took Theo into Jack's room to say good night, Jack asked me in all earnestness, "Do you think he learned his lesson?" I only wish I could have said yes, for all of our sakes.

Adorable Theo

Quote of the Day

A conversation I had with Mattie, after finishing "The Hungry Caterpillar":

Mattie: Do you like this butterfly? I am a butterfly. I changed form a caterpillar to a butterfly!
Me: Did you have a metamorphosis? (We had watched Sesame Street earlier that morning, where metamorphosis was the word of the day.)
Mattie: (Staring at me,) What?
Me: Do you remember the word metamorphosis from Sesame Street?
Mattie: Do you like this word? I like hypothesis!
(Now it was my turn to stare, dumbfounded.)
Me: Who told you that word, Mattie?
(Silence)
Me: Did you hear that word from someone?
Mattie: Do you know what hypothesis is?
Me: Do you?
Mattie: Yes. It's something in a T-Rex's mouth!