Monday, March 7, 2011

The Sad Side of Shoe-Tying

I’ll share with you a secret:  I really love being a mom. There are many aspects of motherhood that bring me joy, but one in particular is the knowledge that I am needed.  I enjoy doing things for my children.  Even changing diapers rarely bothered me, because I am happy to take care of the basic needs of my kids.  But I have had the thought put into my head more than once that maybe, once in a while, I do a bit too much for them.  Yes, I realize the importance of teaching them independence and “pushing” them to accomplish on their own, and thankfully they do pretty well in most areas.  But there are times I need to hold myself back from stepping in and saving the day, or at least the moment.

Child number one never, seriously, never, went through the “I can do it myself!” stage.  Going on 8 years old, there are a number of things that a child of his age should be independent about that he would still prefer to let someone else take care of.  When he was in preschool, he had trouble getting his shoes on by himself, and while I encouraged him to try, I was always willing to step in and help when he got (easily) frustrated. Imagine my surprise when I went to his preschool conference and learned that he did indeed put his shoes on all by himself every day at school.  Really?  This same child whose tears poured forth when I suggested at home that he could probably manage on his own?   Well, from then on, he was made to put his own shoes on at home.  Most of the time anyhow.  I still didn’t mind helping.

Same child goes on to Kindergarten, and the new goal is tying shoes. Now, I was a Kindergarten teacher several years before this, and clearly remember a parent accusing me of being ridiculous to actually suggest that her child should be learning to tie her own shoes – “She’s ONLY in Kindergarten!!!”  I calmly tried to let her know that most children this age were indeed capable of learning to tie their shoes, and it wasn’t a necessity to learn immediately, but just a goal to work towards.  On the other side of the table now with my child, I was thinking, “Seriously?  He really needs to tie his own shoes?  But he’s ONLY in Kindergarten!”  I put off working with him on tying his shoes, because remember I LOVE to do these things for my kids.  But with two younger children, I was starting to realize the benefits of having at least one child who could contribute to getting us out the door faster in the morning.  So I sat down with him one day, dreading how difficult this was sure to be, but determined to at least try to begin the process.   I was shocked that he caught on almost immediately and seemed to be an instant shoe-tying pro!  Before I could be too proud of my shoe-tying teaching ability, he admitted that the helper at school had actually already pretty much taught him how to tie his shoe, a fact he neglected to share with me each day while I tied his laces for him.  Once again, I realized that he and I make a good team – he is happy to let me do everything for him, and I am happy to do it! 

Child number 2 comes along,  He very briefly went through a “do it myself” stage, but followed in his big brother’s footsteps in many ways.  He is famous for not even being able to stand up on his own while we try to get him into his coat, instead going limp and falling repeatedly to the floor.  He would still prefer to be spoon-fed each bite of every meal.  (Not that we do that.  Well, not very often anyhow.)  He comes home from Kindergarten and often immediately races to the bathroom, after holding it in at school because he needs me to wipe him.  I know, I know, he should be capable of doing that himself, I should be promoting his independence, etc. etc.  Someday I’ll fight that battle, really I will.  But for now, I’m ready to come to the rescue when I hear, “Mom, I’m done!”

Child number 2 has brought home two Kindergarten report cards so far.  They are very good report cards, with only one “black mark” -- in shoe-tying.  Now one consolation I had with child number one, and child number 2 for a while, was that once they learned to do things for themselves, there was still another child for me to “help.”  But this time around, shoe-tying teaching seems especially difficult.  Once he learns to tie his shoes, I don’t get to teach any more of my kids to tie their shoes.  This is the last time I get to do this.  The temptation then, is to put this off as long as I can.  I’m perfectly willing to tie his shoes before his high school basketball games!!!  He doesn’t need to learn.  The problem is the report card!  I’m (too much of) a grades-driven person.  I can’t stand the thought that each of his Kindergarten report cards will have an N or even an S minus in shoe-tying.  So the two of us sat down and went through the shoe-tying process.  He is a quick learner and in all of about 10 minutes he was able to produce beautiful bunny ears.  (And as far as I know, he didn’t have any secrets about someone already teaching him!)  So there it is, my job as a shoe-tying teacher is over.

Good thing my boys will both gladly let me tie their shoes for them whenever I want!

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Why we had to buy spoons, and what I'm afraid that says about us

We finally broke down and bought some teaspoons.  It seemed like our silverware drawer never contained spoons.  They were always in the dishwasher, which of course hadn't been run.  We managed - there were plenty of baby and toddler spoons available, or of course the "big spoons," and using such a variety even added a touch of humor to our eating times.  But it got old, and we just wished for clean teaspoons when they seemed to be called for.  While in the silverware aisle at Walmart, the decision was made to buy more spoons, almost doubling the number of spoons in our possession, and although they don't quite match our original silverware our hope is that we will not be left wanting for a clean spoon nearly as often anymore.

Funny thing, though, we rarely run out of forks before the dishwasher is run, and never knives.  Just spoons, even though our set contains the same number of spoons, forks, and knives. I didn't have to think very long or hard to figure out why this is the case, and unfortunately it probably doesn't enhance the image I'd like to portray.

Let's see - what do we eat with spoons?  Well, there's cereal.  (That's healthy, right?  Because the Lucky Charms box even boasts "WHOLE GRAIN!" )  Ice cream necessitates spoons.  (And that fulfills as a dairy requirement, I believe.)  A little yogurt, soup on occasion, applesauce from those little plastic containers...see, spoons go quickly! 

If we used forks, that might indicate that we eat substantial meals.  Chicken, beef, fish, potatoes, vegetables.  Yeah, that hasn't happened as much as it should around here lately.  And eating out IS happening more than it normally would.  So those forks and knives have stayed comfortably put in the silverware drawer, always ready for the rare occaions that they are called to service! 

Meals are tough enough to decide on and prepare in normal circumstances.  When so much energy is used just getting out of bed and making it through the day, those meals just don't take top priority.  Someday our forks will get more of a workout again, I have no doubt.  Until then, we hope that we now have enough spoons to get us through between dishwasher runs!

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Why McDonald's french fries make me cry

Oftentimes Anna did not have much of an appetite.  It is difficult to watch your child eat so little day after day, and you become desperate for them to eat SOMETHING!  Even if it is a McDonald's happy meal.  Anna didn't always eat it all, but at least she showed an interest in chicken nuggets and french fries.  With frequent trips to doctor's appointments and the six hours in the car that went with them, McDonald's drive throughs came in pretty handy.

Anna liked McDonald's french fries.  But she was a little particular - she didn't like the "crunchy" ones.  She would pass the crunchy ones to me.  I would try to convince her to just leave them and we'd take care of them later, but she wanted them out of her sight.   I would try to plan ahead, and give her nuggets in one half of the little paperboard container they came in, and then I would put some non-crunchy-looking fries in the other half.  It was easier to drive when I wasn't frequently reaching back to save Anna from the crunchy french fries. 

She became even more particular, though, about those french fries.  Even the slightly crispy-looking pointed ends of some otherwise perfectly non-crunchy -looking french fries bothered her.  And so time had to be devoted to breaking off the slightly crunchy looking ends so that she was left with a french fry with no hint of crunchy-ness. 

So, tell me, now, how am I supposed to eat McDonald's french fries without my tears turning them into a soggy mess?

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Angry? Me?

I'm not an angry person.  That is what I just confidently told a friend a few days ago in response to her wondering if I had been experiencing the "stages of grief" so often written about, including the "anger stage."  I'm not an angry person. I don't get angry. I'm not angry at the doctors or at God that my daughter lived only a few minutes into her fourth birthday.  Sad?  Of course.  Devastated?  Yes!  Overwhelmed?  Absolutely.  But angry?  Not me!

Here I am, a few days later, blood boiling because of a note I got in the mail from a well-meaning friend indicating that maybe I'm not handling things as well as I could be.  (At least that's how I took it!) And suddenly the kind and caring messages from all of those well-intended supporters are driving me crazy!  YOU DON'T GET IT, I want to scream at them.  All the lovely words and sweet poems do nothing to relieve the heartache.  I already KNOW what the Bible says, and yes, I believe it with my whole heart.  But I don't want to HEAR it right now, at least not when it seems to come with the expectation that my tears should cease because of it.  

Don't talk to me about your sports team woes, or your beauty issues, or your sick pet, or your crazy schedule.  Can't you see how meaningless all of that is?  How can I care about any of that when every moment of every day I ache for my little girl.  How can you expect me to take an interest in any of it? 

Good thing I'm not an angry person. 


"Hear my cry for mercy as I call to you for help, as I lift up my hands toward your Most Holy Place.  Do not drag me away with the wicked, with those who do evil, who speak cordially with their neighbors but harbor malice in their hearts...Praise be to the Lord, for he has heard my cry for mercy.  The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him and I am helped."  From Psalm 28