Grinch Pencils

Confession time. In case you haven't caught on to the theme of this blog, let me make it simple: I am a guilt-ridden mom who can only do right by my children thanks to the grace of God. I am constantly messing this whole "mommy" thing up, but I can feel myself being sculpted and refined every day, and for that, I am thankful. With that in mind, let me share today's stellar failure of a moment. It seems I am most inspired to write when I screw up. I guess that's better than labeling the failures of others. At any rate, I had reached a point this morning where I felt the day was going pretty well in Stay-at-Home Mommy Land. We had breakfasted, potty-trained, been hygienic, played wildly and calmly, crafted with paints AND glitter, and read at least a stack of books. Brady was down for his nap, and Seth was diligently at work on a map for his upcoming mission to the moon. I saw an opportunity arise for me to pop in my iPod and sneak in a workout on the treadmill. I made sure Seth had all the supplies he needed, told him to come and get me if he needed me, and was well into tying my running shoes, when he came into the room to ask me if I would sharpen his Grinch pencil. We had given him a set of pencils decorated with "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" in his stocking, and he really, really wanted to use one of them at this very moment. I explained to him that he didn't NEED that pencil sharpened because he had a perfectly good pencil that I had made sure was sharpened and ready to go. He immediately launched into his "But Mommy..." speech, but I didn't hear a word after that because, by this time, the 'song of myself' was playing so loudly in my ears it drowned out his simple reasoning. In my infinite wisdom, I decided to make this a teachable moment. I don't remember the exact words I used, but I very wisely and calmly explained to him that he already had a pencil and that he needed to learn to be content rather than always wanting something more. When he tearfully still insisted on me sharpening his Grinch pencil, I declared it to be nap-time, and told him I would be glad to sharpen that pencil when he got up, but I wanted him to use this as an opportunity to learn to take "no" for an answer. Seriously. That was how I handled it. I hate even typing it, let alone knowing that's how I really dealt with the issue. I could have sharpened twenty Grinch pencils by the time I was finished with my speech and he was settled into his bed. I may have felt an immediate twinge of guilt, but it wasn't until I moved on with the rest of my plan that God made it plain to me just how badly I had screwed up yet again.

I decided to listen to a podcast of a message we missed at church this summer while I ran today. The speaker was talking about families and the significance of relationships in our lives. None of his points were rocket science and he admitted that. I always say, "You are who you hang out with." It's true. Look around you. Whether you want to believe it or not, you can pretty much decide what kind of person you are based on the qualities of the people you choose to spend time with. I mean, you chose them (him/her), right? I'm not going to choose to eat Brussels sprouts; therefore, I will have neither the healthy benefits or the ungodly gas that comes as a result of eating them. It's just a fact. With that in mind, Donnie (the speaker), explained that as a parent, our relationship with our children is so essential that all of our actions and everything we say in their presence is crucial. This is somewhat unfortunate since none of us is perfect, but if we are honest with our kids and vulnerable with them, our shortcomings can help them learn to deal with theirs. I hope that makes sense. Anyway, I immediately realized that I wanted a "do-over" of the previous ten minutes. It wasn't hard for me to see that my little boy wanted something very simple to complete a task that was very big in his mind, and I had launched a grenade at his request. Of all the things I had chosen to say "no" to, this was definitely the one least worth that response. Why even give him the pencils if he can't be allowed to use them when he wants? I had allowed myself to believe that I deserved that time to myself because of all the other great mommy moments I'd had that morning, and I had crossed into another zone mentally the moment I entered my room to work out. Seth became an intruder in my space with his simple request, and I had fought like a cat thrown into a bathtub for what was MINE. It was clear to me that what I needed was a good speech about being...content. Was it not enough that I had a wonderful morning with my two amazing little boys? Was it not enough that we were all here together in our own home, bellies full of breakfast and lunch, minds strong enough to enjoy books and games together? I just had to have more. I just had to choose a sweat session over the ten seconds it would have taken for me to sharpen a pencil that Seth was perfectly content to receive as a gift on Christmas morning. Shame on me. I am thankful that God allowed me to see this so quickly and clearly. It is merciful to realize one's mistakes quickly enough to apologize and make it right in a timely manner. I don't want anyone reading this to think that I am undermining the importance of time to refresh and rejuvenate. I believe that everyone needs time to him or herself. I consider myself a closet introvert and know how important it is to have some time alone each day to recharge. I cherish the times when I can take a nap, sneak in a workout, or drink a cup of coffee while all alone. However, in this situation, I know that my heart was in the wrong place. There are times to say "no," but this was not one of them. I can only hope that I will retain the insight I received today and that my "yes muscle" was strengthened enough to sharpen a Grinch pencil the next time I am asked to do so.

Curious Seth

I thought we were past the "Why?" phase with Seth. Yesterday, he proved me wrong. At the end of the day, I was quite speechless, and I felt physically sore from all the interrogating I went through. I don't know what it was about yesterday, but his mind was exploding with curiosity. I visualized his brain developing like one of those nature shows where they show a flower blooming in quantum speed. It started at breakfast with conversations like this:

Seth: "Where do people come from?"
Me: (trying to avoid the 'where babies come from' talk) "God made the first people, Adam and Eve, out of dirt."
Seth: "Okay. After that, where did all the other people come from?"

And then, later, another Bible story example:
Seth: "Why are there two different Jesuses?" (you try pluralizing Jesus)
Me: "There aren't."
Seth: "Well, in that story there was Baby Jesus, and in this story there's the man, Jesus."

This sort of thing went on all day, with regular questions still in play. (i.e.,"What are you doing? Why? When are we going outside?")

My breaking point came at dinner. We ate at Torrero's, a Mexican restaurant in Cary where there is a live musician who plays traditional Mexican tunes like "La Cucaracha" as he roams around the dining area. We have eaten there once before, and it was a big hit with Seth who LOVES all things music. Last time, it served to keep him quiet while he ate because he was listening so intently. This time, not so much. The questions that I can remember: "Why does he like to sing?" "Is he singing in Spanish?" "What does the song mean?" "Why does he play next to tables that are empty?" "Is he going to sing over here?" "Is he done?" "Why does he play next to tables that are empty?" "Why doesn't he stand in front of the table when he sings to people?" "Why does he play next to tables that are empty?" Yes, he asked that one many, many times. I answered it mostly the same each time, but apparently my answer was not satisfactory, or he quit listening the moment he finished asking the question. After being asked again why the man was singing, I sent Seth to sit next to Shaun.

On the way home, we faced a detour as a portion of the road was being repaved, and things went like this:
Seth: "Why are all those trucks over there?"
Me: "They are fixing the road."
Seth: "Why?"
Me: "It needed to be repaved."
Seth: "What is 'repaved?'"
Me: "When they put new pavement down..."
Seth: "What is pavement?"
Me: "The stuff the road is made out of."
Seth: "How do they do that?"
Me: (tired) "I don't know. I don't work for the road crew. "
Seth: (a small pause to process that one) "Are they going to do this side too?"
Me: "Again, I have no idea."
Seth: "Why are they doing it over there?"
Me: "No more questions about the road."

All of this went on and on. I don't know what was going on with him. He always asks a lot of questions, but the amount yesterday was unreal. I answered all of them; however, many of them were met with impatience and brevity. After he was in bed, I had the same moment of guilt I have every night once things are peaceful. I reflect on my impatience with these beautiful little people God has given to us. It doesn't kill me to answer questions, after all. I thought about how wonderful it was that he can even form these questions and is unafraid to ask them. Seth cares so much about how people think, how things work, and what's happening around him. He is amazing, and I regret for his sake, once again, that he is the first. I know that I will be much more equipped to handle Brady's questions because of the intense training Seth has had me undergo. I had the thought during the quiet moments before bed that I don't ever want Seth to feel like he can't ask me anything. There will come a time when I won't always know what's flitting in and out of his mind, and the questions that may be rolling around in his brain will be the most important ones a person can ask in his life. I hope when that time comes that Seth will find me approachable, honest, and genuine with my responses. Until then, I know that I am only human, but I pray that God will give me the superhuman strength to answer everything from how eggs are scrambled to why the man at Torrero's likes to sing La Cucaracha standing next to empty tables.

A Child To Lead Them

I feel like a terrible mother. For over a week now, my son, who has been successfully potty-trained without incident for about seven months, has pooped in his pants. The first time it happened, I was shocked, but my reaction was calm. I treated it like an accident and was able to be nurturing. The second time, I was angry. I berated him for continuing to play when he knew he had to go to the bathroom. I could feel in my heart that this was not the correct response, but this is my first time through, and this is definitely unchartered territory. Since then, we have handled the situations in a variety of ways. We breezed through what we thought we knew to do. We took away toys; we bathed him and sent him to bed; we began asking him constantly and making him go rather than letting him decide. Today, after he seemed just as upset as I felt when it happened again, I felt helpless and hopeless. I didn't condemn him, and I withdrew former punishments because, clearly, they are not working. I blew the dust off of my What to Expect the Toddler Years book and read the advice of the "experts." According to that book, Seth must be feeling a lot of stress. This makes me so sad. I can only imagine what he must be stressed about. He has handled the transition into being a big brother rather well, but it can't be easy. If you know Seth, you know he is a delight. He is perceptive, empathetic, and witty. He has always had an uncanny ability to communicate with adults, and I have already seen God at work through him. Because of his intelligence, he has been a son, a "buddy," and a challenge to me. He spent the first three years of his life as a truly golden child. He is our first, and he is the first grandchild in our family. He has been smothered with love from family, and he has been assured over and over again that he is unique and talented and hilarious (which is the most important to him). He had his mommy all to himself, and I worked hard to make the most of our time. I tried to give him experiences that would challenge him and entertain him on a regular basis. Then, along comes an adorable baby. This was fine at first, but now the baby is starting to seem more like a person. Seth loves his brother, and he treats him well. He invests a lot of time in playing with Brady and trying to make him laugh. However, sharing the attention of grocery store cashiers, neighbors, his parents, and most recently, his grandparents seems to be taking its toll. I noticed that he was being neglected by strangers as they gawked over "the baby," but the worst occurrence of this was on a recent trip to Bojangles' where three staff people were oohing and ahhing over Brady while Seth stood there, literally waving and saying hello for minutes and no one ever looked at him. They really never looked at him. I saw the hurt on his face. I hurt for him. He has so much to give and is so very special, and he has had to adjust to being completely ignored. Trust me, we have not tried to ignore him here. I feel like I have worked harder than ever to make sure that he knows he is still important, but in reality, he needs more than I can give. I know that I can't fill that hole in his heart completely, but I am now acutely aware of it. His emotional deficiency has been made very tangible as I bathe his poor little body twice a day, washing away embarrassment and hurt at the same time. Each time he makes some sort of apology and promises he won't let it happen again. It brings tears to my eyes just to think about it. Once again, I have unwittingly failed my child. I need God's grace as much as I need Seth's. I pray that God will make him resilient as he is the first to lead us through parenting.

Two Steps Forward, Four Steps Back

My weekend was pretty bland, but Shaun's not so much. I didn't think he would feel like rehashing it in a blog, so I asked permission to write about it on mine. We really didn't have any plans, and the weather was predicted to be great, so it seemed like a perfect time to make some serious headway on the fence. He got out into the yard pretty early Saturday morning, and had three posts in the ground before he hit a water line with his post-hole diggers. He was simply digging two inches from an existing hole, and soon discovered that the water lines for our house and the two behind us run right through our yard. Not good. He called the water company immediately and had to leave a message. Meanwhile, water is bubbling up out of the ground. He ran to the front yard to try to turn off the water supply, and when he lifted the lid to the water access, a black widow spider was waiting for him. So, he had to abandon the water main for the kitchen to grab spider spray. And water is still bubbling out of the ground. He runs back outside, kills the death spider, turns off the water, and discovers that it is the water for the family of four that lives behind us. (Not the family of three that was gone for the day) Shaun then had to go to their house to deliver the bad news. In the meantime, the water company has informed me that all they would have done is shut off the water, but the repair is our responsibility. This was terrible news, but we have a neighbor who is a handyman by profession and knew exactly how to fix the problem. The only hiccup during the repair was a baby water moccasin that crawled out of the hole and had to be exterminated. In two hours time, crisis averted, water back on. Then, it seemed we were back in business, right? Shaun's goal was to finish putting posts in the ground and pour concrete in the holes. He lifts the tarp off of the remaining bags of concrete and finds eight bags of bag-shaped, hardened concrete. Like tombstones to mark the deaths of all good intentions that day, this was a monumental setback. Condensation had built up under the tarp that was protecting the bags from the rain, and, you guessed it, turned it into blocks. Okay, so no concrete. Next. He managed to put up two sections worth of boards. That was an accomplishment, right? Today, he added nine more boards to those that he put up yesterday, and then I went outside to survey the progress. I was sad to report to him that the boards looked crooked. They were warped boards and had gotten the better of both he and his level. So, just in time for the sun to go down, Shaun took down all of the boards that he put up this weekend. I didn't know what to say when he came in the house. What can you say? I feel like one lesson a weekend is good enough for anyone. Well, maybe that was enough for one week for the poor, tired man lying flat on the living room floor at my feet. Asleep. Here's to Monday.

Frozen Peas

It's finally Saturday, and I am so glad that Shaun is home. He is outside working on the fence with Seth "working" hard alongside him. Brady is sleeping for now, and here I am wasting a perfectly good time to take a shower. I was so glad to wake up to a clean house this morning even though I wasn't sure if it was worth my efforts last night. I felt like such a failure as a mom yesterday for choosing cleaning the house over playing with Seth in the yard. It's a dilemma I face every day. I don't know what the answer is. At any rate, this morning, the house was clean, and that was a nice start to the weekend for me. With my spare time this morning, I decided to attempt making and freezing baby food. I have no idea what I am doing, but I would love to be one of those coupon-clipping, baby food making, cloth-diaper changing (just kidding on that one) moms. I don't know if it really would save me much money, but every little bit helps, right? So, I boiled and liquefied some frozen peas this morning. I had been saving baby food jars to put my homemade food in, but as I was about to put them in the freezer, I wondered if this was the best container to use in the freezer. I have no idea, really, and I didn't have a Plan B, so I just went ahead with it. If it doesn't work, then I guess I will know soon enough. If anyone has any advice, please feel free to share.

Double Java

Today was a two cups of coffee day. I just can't figure out little Brady. While Seth is a mini-me who loves structure, routine, cleanliness, and sleep, Brady just goes with the flow. He has no schedule, no routine, no patterns of behavior for me to easily memorize, no real preferences. He naps when he's tired. He eats when he's hungry. He sleeps all night...mostly. He is stretching me every day to just RELAX. This is not a new idea. Besides Shaun, my friend Ariel is constantly urging me to chillax. This message is a lot more effective when coming from a five-month-old. You just can't ignore a human that communicates by crying, screaming, grunting, and just being darn cute all the rest of the time. (not that Ariel and/or Shaun are not darn cute on any given day) This morning, Brady decided to mix things up and woke up hungry before 6:00 AM. With as much patience as I could muster, I made him a bottle, changed his diaper (with assistance from Shaun who was already up), and put him back to bed. He lay there peacefully and was completely quiet as I trudged back to my room and crawled under the covers. His silence was broken fifteen minutes later by shrill screaming as though I had never fed him. I didn't even get up for a few minutes because I didn't know what to do for him when I got in there. I ended up just sitting with him in his rocking chair, both of us silent while he put his little fingers on my face, the chair, and the little tree beside the chair. After he yawned a few times, I put him back in his crib, and he slept peacefully until 10:15! I don't know. He was peaceful and easygoing the rest of the day. Sometimes it seems that the harder I try to just "go with the flow," the more intense the flow becomes. I want to be in control so badly, that I'm willing to just take each day "easy breezy" as long as I can control the speed of the wind. I thank God for how he uses both of my boys to challenge me in very different ways. I thank Him for Seth's humor and zest and for Brady's gentleness and warmth. And I thank him for coffee, because I don't know what I would do without it.

Water, Water, Everywhere, but wait...

Forget variety. Mistakes are the spice of life. As I was rinsing dishes today shortly after preparing dinner in the crock-pot, the steady stream of water from the faucet slowly decreased to nothing. I was thinking the fire dept. must be testing the hydrants again, but just as I saw the look on Shaun's face after he checked our water source outside, it hit me. I had neglected to pay the water bill. Harnett County Public Utilities does not look kindly on this sort of delinquency. Just like that, no water. I had to look back over the course of the morning and evaluate decisions made in a new light. I recalled the pot of coffee Shaun had brewed, so tired that he forgot to include any coffee grounds in the filter. I'm not sure if he poured that pot out or recycled the water. It doesn't matter now. Not five minutes before the water went away, I had poured almost an entire gallon of store-bought water into the Keurig...so it would be ready for the cup of coffee I would want TOMORROW. Oh, and let's not forget the shower I had chosen not to take when I got up because I wanted to wait until the kids were napping. Or the choice to not brush my teeth because I had just chewed up a Flintstones vitamin. Yes, I take Flintstones vitamins. Just as these thoughts were finished flitting through my brain, I heard Seth say, "Mommy, I need to poop." Beautiful. What is it with this kid and the timing of his bowel movements? At any rate, our relationship with the water company was rectified quickly, but our water was not turned back on until late in the afternoon. I felt cleaner than ever after that shower. Ah, how we Americans take luxuries like water for granted.