A Night to Remember

(Written Tuesday night.)
Do you know that feeling when you've been stuck in a negative rut? You feel like it's been going on far too long, but don't know how to turn things around? That's how I've felt lately about parenting. And it's miserable. I've had too few hours of sleep, too little patience, and not enough thanks for far too long. For me, a stay at home mom, these ruts can be overwhelming, as parenting is, basically, my whole life. So, I had to stop for a moment tonight, even though it's after 11:00, and long past my bedtime, to write this down. I had the most wonderful dinner with the boys tonight. It was so unexpected, and well, frankly, enjoyable, that I couldn't go on being thankless a moment longer. What was so special about this dinner? I got to sit down. For the entire meal. No one misbehaved. We all talked and laughed. The boys even ate. How did we manage to accomplish this? To start with, it was early. We weren't rushed. So, I took the time to call everyone upstairs when dinner was ready and insist that everyone pitch in to get it on the table. I gave the older kids several jobs, including serving their younger siblings. I made sure that the boys put my food on the table as well. And when they finally sat down, I pointed out that I was sitting down too, and would not be getting up to help anyone else during the meal. I also gave out quite a stern warning that I would not tolerate any criticisms or complaints at the table, and that anyone who did not behave politely would be asked to leave the table, and not invited back. I explained that I had cooked the meal, and that it was the only one I was making. I expected everyone to try it, and if they didn't care to eat it, they had to take care of themselves. Something in my demeanor must have signaled that I meant business (either that, or the kids were afraid I was finally going to snap.) Whichever it was, it worked. All four boys helped set the table politely, sat down nicely, and we even got to talk to each other. They each ate some of the dinner I had prepared (flounder, rice and broccoli,) but each one also had a piece of toast. Jack made his own, and Elliot graciously offered to make one for himself, Mattie and Theo. They got out everything they needed, and I was able to sit down the whole time. It was nothing short of miraculous. It hasn't happened again, and it probably won't for another year at least, but boy did I enjoy that night. And thankfully, it was just what I need to snap out of that rut.

New Game

The boys have a new favorite dinner table game. Jack invented it yesterday. It's called "You Can't Say Any Words, or You're Dead." The rules are simple. You can't say any real words, or you lose. You can only say non words. So, Jack, Elliot and Mattie have been enjoying spouting gibberish, for as long as their breaths last, at constantly increasing volumes, to out non-talk the other. There is clearly only one real loser in this game.

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.)

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.

The Best and The Worst of It

We often play a game at dinner called the "Best and Worst Game". We take turns going around the table, and we each share what the best and worst parts of our day were. It's a great dinner table game. It gives everyone a chance to share something good and bad about their day, and it is also a fantastic way to practice listening and taking turns. Everyone gets a chance to speak, but they are also expected to listen respectfully to everyone else. I think I first read about it in a book a year or so ago. I decided to try it as a way to practice listening, and to help us get through our chaotic weeknight dinners without Ted. Jack and Elliot really love being able to share their best and worst things. Unfortunately, what I've cooked for dinner is very often both of their worst things. But, I don't let it get me down! Mattie, on the other hand, enjoys the game, but has never really grasped the concept enough to be able to contribute accurately. We always give him the chance to pick his best and worst things, but his answers are often things like "seven", or "um, blue." Today, however, something must have clicked. For the first time tonight, he told us what his best part of today was, and he said, "I'm at home." He meant, specifically, that he was not at school. He asks every morning whether he has to go to school that day. He usually phrases it like this: "Are you going to leave me alone at school today?" Although we did go to his school for a family breakfast this morning, I assured him that he would not be staying at school, and would in fact be spending the whole day at home with me. So, very sweetly, his very first ever best part of the day was being at home with me.