Thoughts from the Circus

I went to the circus a few weeks ago with Mattie and his class. During the final curtain call, I noticed that most of the performers were siblings, or groups of siblings. In fact, excluding the animal trainers and clowns, all but one of the groups of performers were siblings. Suddenly, and entirely unexpectedly, I had one of those transcendent mommy moments sitting there in the dark circus tent, surrounded by 50 preschooler and their parents. In the way that only a mother feels, my heart swelled to think of the profound bond that each group of performers had with their siblings, allowing them to entrust their lives to each other at each performance. With my heart in my throat I thought, this is what I want for my children.

My happy, weepy moment reminded me of a phenomenal parenting book that I read earlier this year called Siblings Without Rivalry. Like most parents of multiple children, I spend a (very) large part of my time listening to and dealing with sibling squabbles. But I always found it impossible to empathize with the boys, or even understand the fighting and meanness between them. This book put the whole concept of sibling rivalry into a different context for me. For the first time, I could actually imagine myself in my kids' shoes. Looking at family life from their perspective, I find it easier now to focus my energy and attention on each boy individually, giving them more of that personal love that they are fighting for. I also ignore and diffuse the negative attention drives much more successfully. Our house may still be full of squabbles, but I have noticed some very dramatic changes since reading the book. Of course, I still have my lofty hopes that they'll grow to trust and rely on each other like the acrobats on the flying trapeze. But in the meantime, I'll settle for having their feet on the ground and being kind to one another once and a while. If that sounds nice to you too, I highly recommend this book.

Vital Stats

Theo had his 15 month check up today.  He was 25 lbs 4 oz, and 34" long. He walks all the time now, and even tries to run when he sees something he really wants. His molars are coming in, so he hasn't been sleeping as well as usual, and has been pretty crabby a lot of the time, but it's hard to blame him when I see his red swollen gums. He has successfully transitioned to one nap a day, which I'm ecstatic about. He usually naps from about 10:30 to 1:30 each day, and then goes down for bed around 8, and gets up around 6:30 or 6:45. He loves the playground, and cries whenever he sees one and we don't stop. He has also just started showing jealousy towards Mattie. Whenever we hold Mattie on our laps, or pick up or kiss Mattie, Theo comes waddling over to fuss and push Mattie away. Theo still hates diapers changes, loves to be held, and breastfeeds about 5 times most days. He also likes to eat strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, pasta, grilled cheese, eggs, chocolate, peanut butter, asparagus, peas, pears, apples, bananas, yogurt, cheese, cheerios, chicken, ice cream and bread.

Theo is absolutely adorable. We love watching his personality unfold. But, he also drives us crazy with his insatiable need to be held, and afinity for climbing everything. He is definitely keeping us on our toes! Each day he is more of a toddler, and a big boy, chasing after his brothers in every way.

Quote of the Day

Elliot, preparing to confront Mattie, who was obstinately blocking Elliot's path up the stairs:

"Cub Scouts can face 3 year olds!"

va·ca·tion (n)

On our most recent road trip, we went back to the beach town where I went every summer growing up. I have so many fond memories there. It is one of the most peaceful and relaxing places I can think of. However, I found this vacation to be about as relaxing as my average day at work, which is to say, not relaxing at all.

Traveling with your children is like working from a remote location. While the scenery may be much more beautiful, it is not a break from work at all. We certainly had some of those blissful moments on our trip, when I realized that everyone was happy and enjoying themselves at the same time. No one was crying or whining, complaining or fighting. I would look around and smile, trying to take it all in and savor it, for as long as it would last. But, inevitably, the magic moment ended, and it was back to work as usual.

Vacation can be defined 4 ways.

va·ca·tion /veɪˈkeɪʃən, və-/ Show Spelled[vey-key-shuhn] – noun

1. a period of suspension of work, study, or other activity, usually used for rest, recreation, or travel; recess or holiday: 

2. a part of the year, regularly set aside, when normal activities of law courts, legislatures, etc., are suspended.

3. freedom or release from duty, business, or activity.

4. an act or instance of vacating.

But what I think I have realized on all of our family trips is that my idea of a vacation is quite different than traveling with kids. The vacation I am thinking of can only be defined one way.

va·ca·tion /veɪˈkeɪʃən, və-/ Show Spelled[vey-key-shuhn] – noun
1. a trip with no kids. 

Hopefully someday, not too many years from now, I'll get to take another one. 

Jack's World

Jack has an interesting personality. He lives more in his own world than most people. He is very interactive with everyone around him, but often in trying to bring us into his world more than sharing ours. His world is very imaginative, but also full of rules, and very black and white. Here's a glimpse from Tuesday evening with Jack.

Jack, who is learning Spanish for the first time this year, was very proud of one of his spelling sentences that day. He started the conversation like this: "I wrote a 20 point sentence for spelling today, all in Spanish, with 20 words, two spelling words, and without even using the word and!" (Lots of hand flapping.) I asked him to write the sentence for me. Mi amigo tiene que recortar su dibujo porques es un dibujo muy mal con un problema de matemáticas que es inexacto, he wrote. I was really impressed. I asked whether the teachers wanted them to try to write long sentences and gave them one point per word. "No," he said, "I just like to count it that way. They don't care how long it is, or how many spelling words you use in one sentence. And they don't care if you use and, but that's too easy, so I don't like to do it myself." At this point he noticed that the sentence he had written on our white board actually had 21 words. (Lots of hand flapping, again.) "I wrote muy mal tonight. I didn't use muy at school. I wish I had thought of that before. That makes it even more points!"

Later that evening he asked if he could type something on the computer. I said yes. When he returned, he had a pile of "homework" worksheets that he had made. Elliot, ever the eager participant, got to do Jack's homework. Here is Elliot's completed (and graded - by Jack) worksheet.

Jack gave him a 15/20 on the homework, even though Elliot got all of the answers right! He prepared an answer sheet himself which showed all of the elements which were required to earn full credit on the assignment. Here it is.

When Ted came home that night, he had the following conversation with Jack:

J: Who's the best player on the Mosquitoes?
T: Jack, I don't know any of the players on the Mosquitoes.
J: Yes, you do! Come on!
T: Um, Angel Pagan?
J: Uhhhh, Dad. He's terrible!

Before Ted could try to guess again, Elliot shouted out a guess from across the room.
He was right. Of course.
He spends a lot more time in Jack's World than we do. Duh.

The biggest fork

The following conversation between Mattie and Elliot took place recently at our dinner table.

M: I got a bigger fork.
E: No, mine is bigger.
M: But, I got mine first.
E: Mine's big.
M: Isn't mine the biggest?

At this point, a fork sword fight erupted.

Apparently, it's not enough to have something great, something that you like. You have to have something that everyone else likes. And wants.

New to the Gallery

Mattie has only two days left of his first year of school. As one of their final projects, his class did self portraits. I love this piece so much, as it showcases perfectly Mattie's progress this year.

Mattie started school unable to do any representational drawing. He didn't know or recognize a single letter. Without any specific instruction, he has developed enough pencil control to create recognizable pictures, and he has learned to print his name. Bravo, Mattie!

Quote of the Day

On our recent road trip to NJ, Jack spent a considerable amount of time pouring over our road atlas in the car. He's always loved the song "Wabash Canonnball", with it's long list of improbable Midwestern destinations.

(These Disney lyrics seem different from any of the other better known versions of the song, but all the more scintillating to Jack, with their lengthy list of stops.)

"Great cities of importance we'll see along the way,
Chicago and St. Louis, Rock Island so they say,
Springfield and Decatur, Peoria, Valvon,
(I'm not even sure that's what they're saying there)
You can reach your destination on the Wabash Cannonball.
This reindeer runs to Quincy, Monroe and Mexico
...
There's many other cities that you can go and see,
St. Paul and Minneapolis, Ashtabula, Kankakee,
The lakes of Minnehaha where the laughing waters fall,
You'll reach them by no other than the Wabash Cannonball."

He had successfully located many of the cities mentioned, but was stuck searching for Minnehaha. When Ted couldn't find it either, he grabbed his blackberry and did a quick search. This yielded the disappointing fact that Minnehaha, while the official name of a street, park, and body of water in Minnesota, is not a city, as Jack had believed. This threw Jack's mind into turmoil, forcing him to grapple with the fate of his beloved team, the Minnehaha Mosquitoes. (You can read more about the Mosquitoes by clicking on the label at the bottom of this post.) He said, quite alarmed, "Does this mean the Mosquitoes will have to change their name?"

Perspective

Jack and I got to spend some good quality time alone together today. He had an afternoon appointment at Children's. I picked him up early from school. We chatted the whole way there in the car. While we waited in the waiting room, we played "Chips On", the new board game he created last week. Then, after our appointment, we sat in the lobby for a while, waiting for our car to come back from valet parking. He stood mesmerized in front of the kinetic ball sculpture. I munched on a salad from Au Bon Pain. Then, I noticed a young girl sitting in a wheel chair just a few feet from Jack. She was a very recent quadruple amputee. All of her limbs were tightly bandaged, and she was still attached to an IV and oxygen. She was accompanied by a nurse, a ChildLife specialist or social worked from the hospital, and her dad. She too was entranced by the sculpture, but was silently crying. Her dad wiped her face periodically with tissues. In one instant, I felt my whole life shrink to smaller than the size of a grape. All the stress I had felt this morning over my untouched to do list, my anger over the kids bickering, my frustration watching them make mess after mess in the house, my exhaustion from Theo's night wakings, were gone. None of it mattered at all. My kids were healthy, whole, perfect in their own imperfect ways. I sat there with a huge lump in my throat, but thankful, so thankful, for that heartbreaking reminder of what is truly important in life.