Liquid Emotions; Theirs, not mine!

I wonder, how in the world can they survive with such liquid and passionate emotions!

Today was a mess of tears and snot. First monkey one and I had been building a boat/house out of Fresh Direct boxes, paint, and tissue paper. Monkey two was happy to help with the painting. My groom watched from afar and was rather terrified of what he saw. Well painting was day one; they went straight to the bath. Day two was adding tissue paper which I explained is fragile and eventually some one is going to break it. DO NOT EXPECT IT TO LAST. I was clear. For some reason the little guy was content with gluing and didn't really play in the boat, that had now become a house that day.

Day 3 was adding cut out colored paper shapes. So far so good. Everyone working on the outside reaching in. Very little action inside.

Today was Day 4 when my little monkey made a hole in the tissue paper, which created tears in my big monkey. I promised to by more tissue paper. "Stronger one if you can find it". The two were at odds for the rest of the night. I had to separate them for bed time which the little guy would have none of. He must sleep with his big brother (yeah I see hell occurring when college comes into the scene). Then I finally get them in bed and the little guy has his flashlight, the big guy doesn't, can't find his, which leads to more tears. I can't find the other flash light, so we compromise with a dolphin "back" massager which we picked up in China which I frankly think is a thinly disguised vibrator, but yeah, he picked it out, not me!

By the time they are in bed, DH and I have already had cocktails! That bad. It wasn't that they were misbehaving, or really doing anything majorly wrong. Just an emotional onslaught of tears, which is followed by snot. It is so hard to make things "right" when you are dealing with an irrational being that has liquid emotions. Yeah, I Love them, but wow! Being four and two is just tough some days.

Birthday Party Thoughts

In the last 10 days we have been to 3 birthday parties for four year olds. These are not necessarily the parties I love, but hey, I'm working from home so I'll take the opportunity to interact with adults.

The parties this week have been the spectrum you see in NYC. One was at home in a tiny apartment with the right number of kids (~8), but too many parents. No structure (other than the mandatory pizza delivery and cake at the end of the allotted time). The kids just played with toys while helium balloons floated about. The second was the "all in" at a local gym with a crew of 6-8 people to herd a group of 30 kids through the gym; tumbling, trampoline, rock climbing wall, dancing, etc. Then we were escorted to the "food room" where the mandatory pizza and cake was served, along with rhythmic chanting singing about the b.day celebrity. These official places never allow alcohol. Finally, the last was the in between; at a home, but they had just bought the apartment next door which was empty and it was in that space. Kids could draw on the walls, play with toys or do the activities offered (games and story time) before sitting down on the floor for pizza and cup cakes. At all the parties, my boys left with a goody bag of toys they broke in 10 minutes and candy they devoured in 5, but most importantly without all the energy with which they arrived, which helps bed time.

Tonight I offer a list of things I enjoy most at kids b.day parties:
- there should be alcohol for the adults. It should be obvious and refilled regularly.
- there should be extra people there to watch the babies vs. the herd of trampling kids.
- I don't mind dancing/running with the kids, if I don't have to take my shoes off.
- If I have to take my shoes off, so should the host.
- If activities for the kids aren't offered, then helmets should be.
- I would like to ban big pizza slices. If the kids can't hold them on their own, then expect the floor to get messy.
- cupcakes rule; if you don't bake, ask someone who does (i.e., I made the ones in the photo and I was thrilled to help out!) the store ones suck - they are all frosting and food coloring that oddly stains little faces.
- if Daddies attend, they should be in charge of watching the kids because the mommies really are desperate to chat with one another about things other than sports.
- if a child is standing on anything other than the floor, it should be reminded that it should be on the floor
- expect tears, from the kids, maybe mommies.
- ditch the "group " photo idea
- ban all games that involve sticks or ropes
- obvious tissues and garbage cans in every room
- departure gift bags should not include sticky or hard candy
- I don't mind bringing gifts, but I also don't mind when the request is to only bring books, but the kids get angry if they can't bring/receive a present.
- whomever is closest to the kid with snot, wipes.
- juice boxes rule.

I've not followed all my suggestions, but I continue to hope to do better.

Classical Music; Love it or Leave it

I don't know how many households have debates on what music to listen to, but our does. In the end its all classical and jazz. I same my stuff for when DH is out of earshot. My husband is a former classical trombonist, yes, there is such a thing. Unfortunately in addition to having a much larger vocabulary than me, he also knows all things musical. Hum three notes and he'll name the symphony, who was the director when it first debuted and whether it offers an interesting horn line or not.

I on the other hand know all the words to very few songs (twinkle, twinkle, ABCs and Silent Night first verse) let alone the extended tunes for several movements that span an hour's time. So I am submissive, I let him play his "vinyl" which consist mostly of classical and jazz.

The boys don't mind, and honestly I don't really mind. Frankly some of the modern stuff is just annoying, some of the older stuff is beautiful. However, no matter the musical genre, I just don't like loud music in the morning, when I'm busy or when I'm trying to get the kids out of the house. I don't like shouting, "Do you have your shoes on?" in silence or over Mahler, so why not keep it to silence.

This weekend was classical, classical, classical. And for the first time in ages, it made me think, inspired me and overall offered just lovely opportunities. Saturday morning we had tickets (yes, I bought the season months ago, and even unemployed am likely to sign up again next season) for the Little Orchestra Society. I don't mind plugging for them. This is an amazing orchestra that does a series of Lollie Pop concerts (designed for 3-5 year olds, but frankly I think 3-8 year olds and unpretentious music lovers like myself), the Little Persons series (designed for 6-10 year olds, but in our household these are really for the 8 and up as well as my lovely husband) that has existed for like a hundred years. This weekend we were going to a tribute to Abe Lincoln with the Little People's series (Lincoln Center).

O.k., I admit, as does DH, a tribute to Abe Lincoln seemed as lame as you could get by title, and we had no idea what to expect. But going to Lincoln Center with the kids is always a treat. They love being able to go up by the stage, see the lights etc. And the performance is at 11 am and everyone is not expected to be quiet. The performances are 60 minutes on the dot, but tend to be more sophisticated than the Lollie Pop series which has dancing characters involved.

The four year old was with it. Watching and listening. Our little man was along but focused mostly on the stickers, crayons (which roll way down the isle into oblivion) and paper we had with us. There was the orchestra (35 pieces) and conductor, who talks to the kids. But unbelievable they did an orchestration by Copland (one of the few composers who I know by name, modern, did things that sound like western movie sound tracks, and I like him) of several of Lincoln's most famous speeches. While I think it was totally lost on the kids, they had James Earl Jones (yeah, the movie star!) read the Gettysburg Address with the orchestra in the background. AMAZING! DS1 just like that Mr. Jones was on a pedestal why higher than the rest.

They also had this classical violinist, whom my husband says is the biggest thing on the scene, Mark O'Conner, play "fiddling" style music to which DS2 stood up and danced. Again, wow. This is why I love NYC. I'm sure there is music everywhere, but I really got to hear great stuff once I was here.

What annoys me about the music scene in NYC is that people really know everything and I'm a moron. Now, I play a couple instruments, but nothing at a manner that should ever go public. I still play for the boys on occasion. They like it.

Well, we have season tickets for Carnegie (again, bought before I lost my job, but these I'm likely to not renew this year) for the international symphony series, about 6 concerts a season. I have my favorites, Berlin is amazing, Vienna always teaches me something about music, the Bavarian Radio Symphony I think is the greatest orchestra ever. We share a box with six other people, all old, old people. So old that each season I'm curious to see if all the people make it back. There are four old and oddly short folks in our box that have written DH and I off as youngsters, as we are not fully gray. We've been sharing a box with them for six years yet they don't really recognize us. These are the kind of men who call their wives, "their bride". Maybe I'll start calling DH the groom. The other two is a great old "preacher/father" and he always has a friend of family member with him. He's a sweet heart and always asks about the kids. He always discusses the composer and presentation with my husband.

So Saturday, pre-concert we are crossing the street of Seventh Avenue and 57th street, following a group of old people to Carnegie. One of them drops her scarf, and a man bends down to pick it up, and slowly tips over. Like all the way to the ground. While being stunned watching this unfold, DH and I helped him back to his feet before the traffic came up. This is really what I mean by I wonder each concert if our box mates will be there or not.

Well, often DH closes his eyes through the concert. Sometimes I think he nods off, but he denies this. Typically after the first 30-60 minutes I typically get a bit bored. However, Saturday was a bit different, Schubert's Ninth. It was great. It is like he wrote it for the horns and winds then added the strings to accompany. It was also Vienna, which is a great, great orchestra. I was so inspired by the weekend's music I just wanted to write about it.

However, don't think me a snob. I got us season tickets to the Opera, at the Met a few years ago. I thought it would be fun, romantic and educational for me. DH again being an orchestral musician knows all the music and has played in the pit many times. However, I really hated it. I liked two out of like eight performances. I will not be routing for an evening to the opera again, clearly I'm not sophisticated enough.

Cooking, Cocktails, and Conserving $

So I've been tyring to control bills around the house. Duh, we are in a tough economic environment and I'm starting two businesses, conserving bucks makes sense. Well, I noticed something: if I plan a week's worth of meals, we save money and eat well. If I try to cook with what is hanging out in the kitchen, because I forgot to plan or just didn't have time, we eat odd stuff, which gets even odder if I drink while cooking.

For example: If I plan ahead, I'll find two nights for each basic ingredient so I can buy the larger/cheaper size. Furthermore here is no meal-prep related stress because I have a good idea of what I'm going to cook. However, if I walk into the kitchen with nothing planned, I immediately find a cocktail or glass of wine is in order. Then I look at the cupboards/fridge/freezer.

Frankly, I'm not a picky eater. I will eat a lot of a single food item for a meal. But DH, he has higher standards, which causes the meal-prep related stress. Of course, he's not planning ahead or cooking, and has been yelled at for not doing either, so he doesn't complain. He will eat whatever I put in front of him. But I know when he likes it and he doesn't AND don't forget I'm a perfectionist (yes, I do know it, and no there is not a drug I can take to lose it), which makes me want him to like what we are eating.

The easiest solution is usually the freezer. Do I still have a soup/lasagna/etc. in there from cooking a BIG batch of something? No? then off to see what is in the fridge. I'll re-purpose left overs rather than have the food go bad. This lead to fritatas of egg, bacon, tomato, peppers and onion topped with slightly tangy sour cream and catchup the other night. And last week we had stir-fry veggies topped with left over chicken fingers. If I'm not motivated by what I find in the fridge, its off to the cupboard.

This is a NYC apartment, so my cupboards are mostly dishes and cooking tools, there just isn't much space. But last night we had a tuna melt sandwich; tuna, relish, fresh onion, two types of cheese (if you scrape off the mold and melt the cheese, no one but the cook knows the cheese is past its prime). The broiler works well for this and I can proudly report, that I managed not to set off our fire alarm.

If I'm really desperate, I do have a few "boxes" of stuff. I really prefer to cook from scratch. But I'm not beyond pancake mix and pancakes for dinner, or an Asian noodle mix with some sort of protein. (frankly, I view this as a multi-cultural version of hamburger helper). The boxed stuff I look at time after time and just want to throw it out. But the penny-pincher in me won't let it happen. So there are boxes of stuff for desperate times (did I tell you DH thought marshal law would come in affect late last year? Got to love the guy!).

The other correlation to cooking and drinking, is the more I move from being prepared toward the cupboard, the faster and more I drink. This impairs my cooking abilities, my tasting abilities, but also lesson my concerns about DH being disappointed by the meal (maybe there is a drug for perfectionism?). But yeah, neither of us would mind losing 20lbs so we are not suffering. In fact I think I'm going to go make that bag of "fartless chili" mix my mother gave me for Christmas about 10 years ago. I'll throw in chicken, artichoke hearts and truffle oil to offset the staleness. I bet we'll both end up farting all night.

Growth and Compasion

So DS1 is really growing, emotionally, developmentally. He is no longer biting, pulling my hair, or pinching me in anger. I'm not sure when the aggressiveness stopped, but it has. And I think its been a couple months.

The therapist (i.e., the early intervention folks) say that he is really into the routine and improving. I still see him fighting them a bit, but mostly he seems rather happy when they show up. He is saying more sounds, following instructions better, and most importantly not biting/hitting me. There are no "real" words. There are words I understand, and the therapist understand, but I'm not sure that there are new words that the a stranger would understand. Nonetheless, I'm encouraged.

On Fridays, siblings are invited to join DS1's preschool class for the last 20 minutes of class which is story time. DS2 has been going regularly. So yesterday, as I dropped off some stuff for the class - yes still cleaning closets and they just inherited about 20 dress hats, don't ask - I asked DS1's teacher what they would do if I signed up DS2 for preschool but he proved unruly and disruptive. She, the preschool teacher, was awesome.

She told me that she has noticed since the beginning of the year that he is a different kid. He used to come in and push the other kids over to run to the toys. Now he seems to be in a zone, more orderly, very good about getting a toy and sitting down to play with it. He puts things away when it is time to go. He hugs DS1 when he first sees him - this was particularly true after the ski trip. She thought she could go either way, we could wait or he could come this fall.

His therapist think he is ready for preschool in the Fall. They believe words will come when they do, but that words will eventually come. They think he is ready for the routine, the stimulation.

I have sent in the acceptance form and deposit for preschool. We will give it a go. If all else fails we can hold him back for a year in preschool. He is a petite guy. He is likely to be a petite man. Holding him back would not mean he would stand out as larger than the other kids. But also, it is not a decision I have to make now. It will be good to get him into class and see what really fits.

I see changes in how the boys interact. DS1 still asks me questions about what DS1 is doing even though we are both playing with him at the same time. I think it is his way of dealing with the lack of speech from DS2. But today I saw a new level of compassion.

We were all playing with Play Dough. It was time to clean up. We put everything away, but there was still stuff on the floor. I got out the vacuum and told the boys they would have to take turns. After DS2 had a turn, DS2 was pissed that he had to give it up to DS1. After DS1 was done, I finished off the job. DS2 decided to have a temper tantrum and start blowing snot. DS2 asked, "why is DS1 blowing snot?" "Because he doesn't want to share the vacuum." By this point DS2 had snot down to his chin. DS1 then went and got a tissue and wiped DS2's nose. They both know I don't blow his nose when he's pissed. I was shocked, impressed. There is love, compassion between them. Even when I lag behind.

P.S. I have been struggling with whether I should refer to the boys as DS1 and DS2 or by their names, but I just keep coming back to the idea that I don't want them to google their names some day and find the blog entries without the proper introduction. So hang in there it remains DS1 and DS2, my first born and my first adopted, respectively.

Tragedies and Children

In NYC taxis there are little TV screens with a loop of information about recent news; i.e., the weather and what is happening in the city. As I was taking DS2 to swim lessons (normally we walk, but it was so cold) in a taxi and there was a clip of the airplane that landed in the Hudson River last month.

DS1 likes to talk through all the parts of the story. Basically these are the points he likes to go over: The plane was taking off when a bird got caught in the engine. This stopped the engine and the pilot had to find a place to land the plane, fast. The pilot chose the Hudson River, right beside our house. He landed the plane with a big splash. Everyone ran out of the plane onto its wings. And then rescuers came to get them. The police, the fireman, but also rescuers that were ordinary people doing ordinary things that decided they could help. Like the ferry boats. They came up stream and helped. They became rescue ferry boats. Everybody got out. Everyone went inside to warm up. Then later the people went back to the airport to take another plane home.

Today he wanted to focus on the ferry boats that became rescue ferry boats. This is an easy story to go over, everyone lived. However, at a point I had to change the conversation. It just got too emotional for me. It is weird how 9/11 will sneak up on me. I was working downtown at the time and was entirely too close to the situation to be at ease. However, I was fine and able to walk home with thousands of other people that day. There were so many ordinary people that became rescue people. It has never left me. It has amazed me daily since then, let alone changed my being into someone far more proactive.

We have a picture book about 9/11 and a retired fire boat that helped. On occasion the boys pick it out for nighttime reading. Sometimes I read it, sometimes I tell them to pick something different. But it is important to talk about the good and the bad together. I can read, "Don't Talk to Strangers". So it seems reasonable that I should also read them things just to stay aware. It is age appropriate materials, but wow, it is not easy to discus tragedy with kids. The really big bad uglies, as I think of them, need to find words. But not every day. Not every week. Just on occasion.

Frankly "tragedy" conversations become very hard conversations to have in an adoptive family. I don't want the kids thinking something bad is going to happen and they'll find new parents. I don't want the boys to think something bad happened to DS2's parents that lead to his joining us. And this thought if not spoken, is still thought. I know I think it. So I have to assume by the boys do as well, in their own way. However, I do emphasize that ordinary people, even those of us with limited super powers, can help one another. Maybe even more importantly, that we should help one another.

Super Nanny to the rescue - taking it local

My lovely husband (DH), who normally sits in the room while I watch Super Nanny, but is likely to be found not really paying attention, but in reality he does watch it a bit. The reality is I think he likes the show and is afraid to admit it. I find in my reality show viewing (which consist of Super Nanny, Hells Kitchen and Kitchen Nightmares, with the occasional sprinkling of the original reality show - Antiques Road Show) DH has an interest in how defenses the participants become.

He loves Kitchen Nightmares as none of the chefs want to admit their food is bad or they have lost their passion. He talks about how interesting it is that although the parents went out of their way to invite Super Nanny for a visit, they are reluctant to try the new techniques, which aren't new at all if you routinely watch the show. So when he called me last week and walked me through how to set the timer to record Super Nanny on Friday night, I knew something was up!

Yes, last Friday Super Nanny visited a family on the Upper West Side of Manhattan (although the exterior shots were the east side to protect privacy). A family with two boys; a five year old and a two year old. Sounds familiar. Here's the kicker, we actually know them! Not well, but in a met you a couple times kind of way. Their older son took swim lessons (just the two of them in the class) with our older son. They always seemed nice, but the kid did not like to swim.

We watched the show. It was the most boring Super Nanny yet! First they are awesome parents who just lack a backbone for handing out discipline. They were totally honest and upfront about needing help, with no ego attached at all. The tools offered were the basics; time outs, separation technique, going to bed/staying in bed techniques. The only new things was JoJo taking them to task on having too much clutter in their house. Guess what, the parents just stepped up and cleaned house.

Of course, Sunday morning we go into family swim and the family is there. DH had to tell them that we watched the show. They kind of ran away. Of course us in our swim caps with two excited children is a situation worthy of running from. But I was sad I didn't get to tell them Kudos for asking for help. (1) it is not easy to ask for help, (2) you can't control the responses you receive once you have asked, and (3) parenting suck, but we will survive it.

I LOVED the show. It just goes to show that we can all use a bit of help. And like a review I read afterward, "we all know Super Nanny isn't about fixing the kids, its about fixing the parents." Who doesn't need a bit of help getting all the tools of parenting!!

Language Acquisition

Given that DS2 is trying his hardest to get new sounds and words, sometimes I forget that DS1 is still gaining vocabulary. Unlike DS2 whom I applaud for any sound attempted, whether it is actually made or not, DS1 is talking up a storm and very attentive of when I use a word he thinks should be part of his vocabulary.

For example, the boys came into the kitchen a few days ago, appearing like a storm blowing in. Ds1 had about 6 tools in wrapped in his arms, DS2 had a saw in one hand and clearly wanted at least one more tool. DS1 was crying that he didn't want to share because he had already given the little guy one tool. I looked at him and said, "Give him one more, you are clutching them so tight you can't even play with them." To which DS1 responded, "I am not clutching. What does clutching mean?" Amazing right! I'm personally embarrassed by my limited vocabulary and impressed that this kid will reach right out there and use a new word whether he knows what it means or not!

Then there is the vocabulary use to show me that he know something. For example, the other day I asked if I could read him a story I've been writing. Then I asked if he knew I had been writing it. He responded, "I know you've been writing. I've heard you talk to the other mommies .... with my ears." "Not your nose?" I asked. "No with my ears," he replied. So is he telling my he likes to eve's drop? Or is he telling me he knows what his ears are for?

But a personal favorite, is trying to use words he doesn't get to use to often. We were heading to a friend's house for a dinnertime play date and I stopped with the boys in the wine store to grab a bottle of wine, and DS1 asked, "What type of rum does Jane like?" While his comment raised eyebrows, I got people to actually turn around and look at us by responding, "Honey, Jane likes wine, we are in a wine store. It's mommie that likes rum."

Coping, Growing Up

Not sure if I'm thinking about me or DS1. I was going to write about what a great boy he was recently when we went to the dentist and I was impressed by his willingness to go through a not so pleasant experience because, I said we need to do "this". He stayed focused on the TV they had in the room, which was playing cartoons with which he was unfamiliar. His devotion to the TV was clearly his way of coping with the moment. There were strange noises, sounds and the weird sensation of things going on in his mouth.

Lately, I'm worried about the future, in a totally vague way. The consulting business is in reality going great, I have clients signing up, I have proposals out, I have continued opportunities to meet with companies. It is happening. But I have a coping mechanism of trying to make sure that I'm organized, meeting companies and getting work. Not a bad coping mechanism, in reality. I love the consulting projects that have come my way so far. Definitely brain food. It is using what I know, but making me stretch and giving me the opportunity to learn new things.

The toy business is slowly creeping along, but I will have product in a few short weeks (like 6-8). But I don't know what I'm doing. I know finance, I know I'm not spending a ton of money. But marketing, retailing, creating a "presence" for the product (on the cheap) is all new. Something fun and new is exciting, but it is frustratingly on the back burner as I move the consulting business forward.

The boys are awesome. I learn from them, from interacting with them, more about myself daily. It is unbelievable that I still have so much to learn about myself. How did I make it this far knowing so little? The job change is giving me much more time with the boys, which is likely spurring my coping mechanism of trying to secure work, spurring my personal development, giving me back day dreams of creating a future which I lost some time ago. Again, not a bad thing. But it is weird not really having time "off". I'm always on looking for work, thinking about who to call, ways to pitch, the future. It is new, it is unfamiliar. It is terrifyingly-exciting.

Love for All

Happy Day-After Valentines Day.

It is funny that my least favorite holiday followed after my favorite. For this year I actually planned ahead, I booked a ski house for a family week holiday at my husband's favorite activity. His eyes light up with talk of snow. His pulse quickens as he starts typing in site addresses to check on snow conditions. But, with work being what it is, I choose to stay behind with DS2. Not a very romantic.

DS1 is celebrating Valentine's Day for the very first time. Actually he already celebrated it, last Thursday. He was to bring in valentines to school by Thursday, and was not attending on Friday, due to the ski trip. So Wednesday evening, I hit five stores looking for simple kid Valentine's Day cards. I hadn't picked them up over the weekend due to my cold. However, on Wednesday night I couldn't find them anywhere.

So we made the necessary valentines. I enjoy arts and craft, amazingly so does DS1. But as I was looking at them as they dried on the table that night, I had that mommie night mare; am I going down the slippery slope of embarrassing my son because I don't know what the standard is; homemade or store bought?

I love that DS1 was into the cards. Into the idea of giving his friends something special that he made. He told me which name to write on each card. We did his cluster and the other cluster that shares the main room (23 kids). He was proud and excited.

Well, thanks and joy to the karma of this Valentine Day. DS1 came home Thursday with a bag full of home made Valentines. None were perfect, all were beautiful. I love this age, they are opinionated, they care, but they also love so freely.

Chinese New Year

Just to pick up where I left off last night.... I FEEL so much BETTER! There is snot, but there is no more migraine like pressure in the sinuses; such relief that I didn't even call the doctor this am! What an early night to bed and a good night sleep can do. Two more solid nights and I might even be well! Accordingly, I'm sneaking this post in during the 1 pm nap.

So last Sunday, February 8th, was the last day of the Chinese New Year celebrations. After two weeks of teen to mid-20s degree weather in NYC, last Sunday the temperature rocketed to the mid 50s in the afternoon so we ran down to Chinatown to catch the dragon dances. In NYC the dragons were sponsored by different martial arts groups, and they danced from noon to 6 pm on the Chinatown streets that were closed to car traffic, and are rather athletic (in my opinion). It was great!

I love NY, but it always surprises me how I can be transported to another world via the subway. We took the boys down, and the streets were crowded/festive, but there were few Caucasian families running around. Even with a celebration this big, DS1 was the only blond I saw on the scene.

There were drummers with each dragon. For the most part the drums were in little hand-push wagons and the drummers walked along side them. The dragons were only 2-5 people long, but they went through the crowds, up and down stoops, and in and out of shops, chasing away last year's bad luck and welcoming a fresh new year. DS2 loves music and a good beat. While he was up on my shoulders, as a best viewing spot, I could feel him wiggling his hips, waving his arms and clapping his hands along with the drums.

The shops were selling little rocket launchers full of confetti. I'm pretty sure this is illegal in NY, but the police have a way of looking the other direction for festive traditions. There were tons of these little rocket launchers being shot, and confetti on the ground everywhere. There is just something about confetti which is so festive. It brings out my "inner child".

After touring the area once, we stopped at one centrally located restaurant. It was really the only place where I saw other Caucasian families, but that definitely wasn't the reason we chose it. It had fish, crabs, els and other water creatures in tanks up front. The boys loved this, but didn't really get the concept that they were there to be eaten. The host was surprised that DS1 ordered dumplings and BBQ chicken strips, but was even more surprised when we had to put in a second order of each because the food was quite spectacular.

I'm sure I've said it before, but I really love Chinese New Year. It is awesome celebration of bringing great hope to the new year, with family, friends and a lot of noise. I like that it just dismisses last year as something that has passed, but is now done. On to a New Year!

Up and Down, Up and Down

I guess it is just the cycle of life that it is difficult to stay on top all the time.

DS1 had another asthma attack and I'm sick again. DS1 is actually over the asthma attack and left today with his daddy for a ski week in Vermont. DS2 and I are at home looking at each other. Maybe tomorrow I'll take him to the doctor with me, for a "fun" trip, we'll see how I feel when I wake up.

Life is good, just crazy and I think that is why I caught another head cold. But on we go. This week there was a big conference in NYC for pharmaceutical companies so I was crazy busy trying to get out and about to meet with potential clients, and yes I did get a job or two which I know need to write proposals for. I feel enthused about the consulting business.

DS1 had a asthma attack, which when I can't control it just rips my heart out. I knew it was coming from a funny sound in his cough. I took him straight to the doctor. She said his chest was clear, no wheezing at all, but told me how to treat it. By 7 pm that night you could hear him wheezing from across the room. He missed 2 days of school, but then came roaring back to a good level.

Finally, the tough one, I made the decision that DH and DS1 should go on the ski trip I booked about nine months ago. I really felt like with just launching my business I couldn't go right now. If I was staying home, it made sense for DS2 to stay home too as he is too young to ski. Then one of my clients asked me to go down to North Carolina for a meeting and just spend one night, so now I have my parents coming up in two days to take care of DS2.

So life is hectic. I'm just putting a happy face on and getting on with it. I've missed writing, but I did manage to get the boys down to Chinatown for Chinese New Year's last day, Valentines cards made for DS2's preschool, and a bit of work happening. So I'm going to be early tonight, but I hope to catch up on my writing thoughts over the next few days.

Angela

Role of an Observer

The intro to the series: The last couple days I've been thinking about how all my boys each on their own terms and timing hold me, my life, my actions, my choices up to microscopic inspection, hand me a mirror on my own actions or hold me captive as an observer without the ability to control an event. These are all scary, real thoughts/moments, but not necessarily good or bad, just life with kids.

Observer without control: Definitely the role that is hardest for me to take in my relationship with the boys is that of observer. I am good at observing. I want to watch, listen, take time to see what is happening with them. But once I've started to see a pattern that I don't like, be it as simple as wiping their nose on their sleeves, or as complex as melting down every time his brother leaves for school, I want to interrupt and ask for behavior that I find more appropriate. That doesn't sound too bad on the surface, but what if they are not ready, or just not interested in what I deem to be appropriate behavior? Then I have set up for a battle of the wills. These I do not loose. But maybe I should more often (back to the microscope and mirror).

The other time when being observer is really, really hard, is when one of the boys is working out a social situation with other kids. I want everyone to love them as much as I do. But sometimes the big kids just don't want a baby tagging along. Sometimes my boys are just not catching on to the game that is at play. Sometimes the boys are afraid to try something, a food, a game, a sing-a-long, an instrument, and it breaks my heart as I want them to be able to experience everything.

Now the flip to this equation, is what if I could make them into puppets and they did everything I wanted. At first, yes appealing; no more picking up toys, sorting clothes, yelling to stop the hitting/throwing of stuff. But I think it would also take away too much of the fun in watching the boys discover things on their own. Learning from their perspective. Seeing things, all sort of things for the first time.

And this is the simple stuff. The big stuff is to come. What happens when they change schools, classes, teachers and its not the perfect fit? What happens when they don't date the girl of their dreams? Or get accepted into their college of choice?

So being the observer to their precious lives is the part of parenting that rips my heart out. I don't want to observe and let them find their way. I want to control the events, I want no hardship to come their way. And even with the slightest of slights, my heart hurts. It may be my refrain, but parenting sucks. I'm in it deep, I do it, but wow it is tough at almost every turn.

the mirror

The Series: The last couple days I've been thinking about how all my boys each on their own terms and timing hold me, my life, my actions, my choices up to microscopic inspection, hand me a mirror on my own actions, or hold me captive as an observer without the ability to control an event. These are all scary, real thoughts/moments, but not necessarily good or bad, just life with kids.

The mirror: I think seeing my actions reflect in my children's faces is far scarier than standing in front of a full length mirror naked. And I'm no beauty. They, the kids, do what we do. They may also do what their friends do, but they do that in front of us and then look for a reaction. Back to the mirror concept, this is a unique relationship I think we have as parents. I don't expect DH to start behaving like me. I don't expect my best friends to start picking up my idiosyncrasies. But the kids do. And when they do, I find it startling.

It is fascinating to me to see his face when he observes the discipline of saying "that's enough". DS2 is the button pusher in big ways; he kicks when I'm trying to put on a diaper, he bites me after I say not to, then when he gets pissed and he starts blowing snot out his nose until it is running down his face. So I've instituted a rule in the house. If DS2 starts blowing his nose in anger, no one is to wipe it. Again, the kid is amazing, and when he calms down he gets a tissue and wipes his own nose. But there are times when he wants to really push it, show me he is defiant (which may be a mirror) and hang out for sometime without wiping his nose. This is hardest on DS1 and the sitter. They both desperately want to help him. When I say no, I see a mirror being held up saying, "you are mean". I don't want to be mean. But I am the grown up and I am charged with helping them grow up. I don't just get to set the rules, I have an obligation to set the rules. Parenting sucks.

But it works, the rule setting. As I watched DS1 explain to DS2 why he was being given a time out the other day. This was an interesting mirror to be handed. But DS1 was saying, "we love you, but throwing the cars is not allowed". I'd like to believe this means he is getting the value of saying no, better behaviour, but who knows?

DS2 offers plenty of mirror moments even in his non-verbal state. He likes to match me on actions and vocal tone. If I treat something as if it is precious, he'll play that game and do the same. If I lose my temper and snatch something out of his hand, i.e., his dull dinner knife, after I've told him 10 times to eat with the fork not the knife, he gets pissed and tries to snatch it back. If I whisper to him, he tends to stare. If I talk to him, he talks back. If I yell, he yells. So yes, it is DS2 that is teaching me to not yell at the kids because he yells back and I get tired of all the yelling between us.

Both of them make me examine my actions/words more than any relationship I've ever been in. Poor DH may be disheartened to read that, but he doesn't read the blog. I know that what I do and how I say things affects the boys in profound ways and they are here, in my life, entwined in my life for many, many years to come. I don't want to have a bad relationship. The mirror from the kids is definitely teaching me ways to improve me.

The microscope

The last couple days I've been thinking about how all my boys each on their own terms and timing hold me, my life, my actions, my choices up to microscopic inspection, hand me a mirror on my own actions or hold me captive as an observer without the ability to control an event. These are all scary, real thoughts/moments, but not necessarily good or bad, just life with kids.

As a microscope, I see the boys pointing out to me that it is the tiny things that matter not the big stuff. For example, the doctor is twenty minutes behind. The boys don't care, they need to have fun now. The big picture doesn't matter; the boys don't care that we are late, that they'll be hungry/tired by the time the doctor gets to us, nope, they just want me to focus on this tiny moment, be with them and command the ability to ignore the big picture. Yeah, it is ok to tear more paper off the roll for the examining table and to have paper ball fights. Yes, I can fold a boat. Yes, we can make a tent. Yes, we can have fun anywhere. Yes, I don't care if the doctor cares.

But there is also the microscope negatives, the melt down because I gave DS1 a pat on the head but not DS2, or DS2 got into the stroller before DS1. The raw frightening emotion that comes from the boys when a minor, but big in the microscope, indiscretion occurs. My recent favorite was the fight to see who could touch more of my body while they both sat on either side of me, but neither allowed on my lap, while we read a book.

Then there is the microscope on the road. At home, no toys on the dinner table. At a friends' house, their kids had toys at the table. My boys pointed it out that it was "breaking the rules" but then cried because they didn't have a toy at the table. Do I give in, do I not?

But the microscope is really in my head, my inspection of the every decision I make and try to understand;

• is it necessary - brushing teeth, yes; combing hair, no
• is it important - learning decent manners, yes; being able to read at 4, no
• is it appropriate - learning to share, at 4 yes, at 2 "forgetaboutit"
• is it safe - jumping on the couch, ok; jumping off chairs, no way
• is it a control issue - clothes, other than warmth, do I really care which shirt it is?
• is it time - DH wants DS1 to learn a musical instrument, I think its too early
• is it me - am I taking their hyper energy in getting bathed/dressed personally
  
• is it them - DS1 has to be dressed first, DS2 must not put on his hat till outside

Does any of this personal inspection of my life matter? That might be the big question, how much introspection and scrutiny of all these tiny decisions is helping us be a better family, create strong healthy boys, better contribution to the world? How much of this introspection is useless? I generally have a reason for most of my actions. I have a plan on how to raise the boys. I don't mind the microscope for the most part, I may do a better parenting job if I'm willing to examine my actions, but the outcome is a science experiment, not in my control.