Housecleaning...

I'm trying to get the house clean today, but it just can't be done.

lifted from: FulcrumGallery.com

I try to wash the dishes, and Karyn wants to help by pouring the wash water into the rinse water. That's not helpful, so I clear and organize the kitchen counters and pick up some week old pizza boxes to tear apart and throw in the trash, butthey are glued together and indestructible  Next I try cleaning off the dining table which is the time Colin picks to get a butter knife and smash crackers all over the table. I'm losing my temper a bit and boil some water and make a cup of chamomile tea. There was a little water left in the pan which 2 minutes later Karyn splashes on herself with a startled and pained squeak  I get her sorted out and try again to wash the dishes and Aaron calls saying he'll be late, which is fine, but now I have to tell the kids, but I don't get to right away because Gideon wants to nurse and take his nap. Ok, that's done and I finally tell the kids Papa will be late and they are alright with that. The cup of chamomile is cold and doesn't taste as nice, but I drink it anyway and set a timer for three o'clock to remind me to take the kids to the playground, assuming Gideon is awake at that time. I'm about to get back to cleaning something, when Colin, while dancing on the table, knocks a glass of water off. It's sturdy and doesn't break, but now there is spilled water to clean up, which I tell Colin to take care of. He succeeds in spreading the water around, but not much is picked up. Then he helps himself to a popsicle and drops chunks of it on the floor while Karyn is in the kitchen hosing the counters walls and floors with the sink sprayer. I give up. It seems like the harder I try to clean the house the messier it gets.

This Is News?

AJ is safe! Call the cops! Alert the media! USA Today

What kind of news is this? A child got overlooked during a fieldtrip to a museum and was subsequently left behind. The museum staff found the child, called the schools that visited until the correct one and was identified, the parents were alerted and they picked him up from the museum. Mom was freaking out, but the boy was fine. The end.

The mom is such a whiner in this story. If it were my son, yes I would be concerned, but seriously calling the cops and alerting the news after I'd been assured that he was located and safe?

My son disappeared yesterday. I didn't notice for over an hour that he was gone. When I went looking for him, he called out to me from the trunk of the car that I had cleaned that day and I left open to air out. Good thing the weather was mild. Little Colin was upset and needed to snuggle for half an hour before he was himself again, and I felt bad that it took me so long to notice him missing and find him, but you won't see me filing a law suit against Ford Motors for failing to make a child friendly trunk release. Chalk it up to experience. I learned not to leave the trunk standing open, and Colin learned not to play in the trunk of a car.

Perhaps this family in the news has a lesson to learn to, such as: AJ, don't get separated from the group, and, don't freak out when your child's safety is assured.

http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2013/04/26/field-trip-left-behind/2115781/

Cold Hearted, Mean Mommy

I've never met anyone who openly questions me when I don't drop everything and run whenever I think one of my kids has the slightest booboo. However, I have gotten a few questioning looks and one or two "evil eyes" when my children fall down and hurt themselves to the point of crying and I don't immediately pick them up. Maybe I should explain why I do that.

There are two reasons why I am slow to answer the cry of pain:

First is that I took a babysitter's certification course when I was eleven. They drilled into  my head the importance of observation. You don't rush in when you see someone hurt, or in some kind of physical peril. You see what may have caused the trouble first (electrical wires, sharp objects,...). Determine, if possible, what the problem is, if it will endanger you, and whether intervention is actually necessary or wise. Observe, observe, observe. Pausing ten seconds to take in the situation and make an appropriate judgement can prevent many evils.

Second, is that I have a life. Mommy is not always going to be there with a Band-aid and a bottle of Pedialyte to "make it all better". The kids better cowboy up.

I've seen some kids melt down into a puddle of neurotic goo because they tripped and fell in the sand, and then the mommy goes into EMT/physiatrist mode. I feel bad when my kids get hurt too, but seriously, most kids are not made of fine hand blown crystal. What's more, going overboard like that contributes to other problems, like making them think the injury is worse than it is, or that deliberately hurting themselves will get attention.

One night when Colin was about 6 months old, Aaron and I put him to bed and walked out of the room. He of course cried for a few minutes then was quiet. Suddenly we heard a "thunk" and "WAAAAHHH!!!". Thinking he was seriously hurt, I ran in there fearing the worst. He was fine. He just tried to sit up, I guess, and lost his balance and hit the bars of the crib. No big deal. The slightly pink welt faded away before he even finished crying. I put him back down, and left again. Five minutes later, "thunk", and "WAAAAHHH!!!". I thought to myself, there is no way I'm playing this game, and I stayed right where I was. He cried for a few minutes, but Colin never hit his head on the bars of his crib again.

What I actually do when my kids are hurt and crying: I make myself available, but keep my distance. If they need a hug, or a band-aid, they can come to me for it, not the other way around.

So far, the results of slow response have been positive. Colin and Karyn are confident, coordinated, and relatively independent (sometimes too much so). They take calculated risks, pick themselves up when they fall, only come for comfort when it bleeds or really hurts, and recover quickly.

I may be a cold hearted, mean mommy; but Colin and Karyn seem to be doing alright.

Dangerous Parenting

I have never told my children not to talk to strangers.

No, I probably won't come down hard on the kids for riding their bikes without helmets, just make them endure, for the umpteenth time the story of how a bicycle helmet saved my head.

Yes, sometimes I let them fight.

No, I don't force my children to share their own toys.

Yes, I let them climb in and out of the cart while shopping at Wally World.

No, I don't feel obligated to accompany my four year old son every time he goes outside. As long as he stays in sight of the house, I'm happy.

Yes, I've been letting him use a sharp knife at dinner, and it's getting about time to teach my three year old to do the same.

No, my house is not "child proofed".

Yes, I let them play with "big kid" toys, kitchen utensils, and even my tools occasionally.

They've experienced cuts, burns, and mild electric shock, fallen down stairs, made friends with strangers, had bumps, bruises, rashes, bug bites, and splinters.

So far my four year old and three year old are both strong, smart, healthy, outgoing, enjoy sharing and playing outside, have a good idea what is dangerous and what is safe, take calculated risks, are self confident, and converse very well both with other children and adults.

They are going to make great leaders.

Organized Chaos: My Parenting Experience with Toys

It happens about four or five times a year. The kids inexplicably and absolutely lose control and start screaming and hammer fisting each other in the head. They won’t help clean house either no matter how extravagant the reward or terrible the punishment. Yep, it’s time to do a toy purge again.

In the last six years of working with preschoolers, toddlers, and my own little children, I have found that young children appreciate variety in toys, but almost always are overwhelmed by too much abundance. The result is chaos.

One of the most ironic things I’ve ever born witness too was in a nursery room with the floor littered with a myriad of toys and the shelves still well stocked, three boys fighting over one dinosaur. There was a pile of dinosaurs right under their noses, but they were too overwhelmed to notice. That was the week of the first and largest toy purge I’ve ever committed.

Without even consulting to see whose permission I would need, I threw out everything low quality or ugly; re-homed all licensed characters, and over accessorized, or battery dependent toys; washed and donated everything food related (six to eight children sucking on the same plastic strawberry every week… yuck!), and the dinosaur no one could share went to “visit his cousins” indefinitely. I kept dolls and building blocks, books and musical instruments, plenty of cars, dinosaurs, figurines, puzzles, and few other things.

The following week you would never have known these were the same children by their attitudes. It was sunshine and rainbows, cooperation and sharing, and rarely a lost temper whilst waiting turns. As a bonus, everyone was much more helpful at clean up time.

Colin and Karyn are much the same way and need to lose or rotate toys from time to time. Last night as I was going through their toys and reflecting on what we do and do not have, I was surprised at how few toys I disposed of this time around. They have enough to fill a mid-sized closet, but they are productive toys the kids keep coming back to. Most of them are classic toys like dolls, cars, balls, and various kinds of building blocks. Of electronic toys, there are very few and what we have are mostly new things that are basically grandparents’ revenge toys (they usually last about three to five months before needing disposal or re-homing). There are not many licensed characters, although one has managed to flourish and that’s Anakin Skywalker. We have three of him and he’s well loved and cared for.

There are no toy guns, in spite of Colin’s persistent requests for such. Reason being is safety. I don’t want the kids forming bad habits before handling real firearms, and I definitely don’t want them making the mistake in attitude that guns are toys. I heard a story once about a police officer who nearly shot a boy because the child aimed what appeared to be a berretta at him. What gave the officer pause was seeing a white plug in the business end of the gun. It was a black painted water pistol which he immediately confiscated. Thankfully both parties survived, but I’m left with an indelible impression that toy guns can be very dangerous. I don’t mind transparent water pistols in the summer, but we have rules about them in our family.

I think the only thing we don’t have that I feel a little bit guilty about, is that we have no wood puzzles. Colin and Karyn both enjoy puzzles, but I keep forgetting to look for them. I also don’t have any “dress-up” type clothes for Karyn, who likes to wear my clothes and musses the clean laundry while looking for the perfect outfit.

I don’t spend much time feeling guilty or inadequate when it comes to toys. The kids have plenty to play with and more than they need. This morning, after a late night evaluating toys, I woke up to a relative peace, a fairly clean living room, and two happy children who thought it was Christmas all over again (no hammer fisting required).