Dear Parent:
This is the letter that I wish I could write.
This fight we are in right now. I need it. I need this fight. I can’t tell you this because I don’t have the language for it and it wouldn’t make sense anyway. But I need this fight. Badly. I need to hate you right now and I need you to survive it. I need you to survive my hating you and you hating me. I need this fight even though I hate it too. It doesn’t matter what this fight is even about: curfew, homework, laundry, my messy room, going out, staying in, leaving, not leaving, boyfriend, girlfriend, no friends, bad friends. It doesn’t matter. I need to fight you on it and I need you to fight me back.
I desperately need you to hold the other end of the rope. To hang on tightly while I thrash on the other end—while I find the handholds and footholds in this new world I feel like I am in. I used to know who I was, who you were, who we were. But right now I don’t. Right now I am looking for my edges and I can sometimes only find them when I am pulling on you. When I push everything I used to know to its edge. Then I feel like I exist and for a minute I can breathe. I know you long for the sweeter kid that I was. I know this because I long for that kid too, and some of that longing is what is so painful for me right now.
I need this fight and I need to see that no matter how bad or big my feelings are—they won’t destroy you or me. I need you to love me even at my worst, even when it looks like I don’t love you. I need you to love yourself and me for the both of us right now. I know it sucks to be disliked and labeled the bad guy. I feel the same way on the inside, but I need you to tolerate it and get other grownups to help you. Because I can’t right now. If you want to get all of your grown up friends together and have a ‘surviving-your-teenager-support-group-rage-fest’ that’s fine with me. Or talk about me behind my back--I don’t care. Just don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on this fight. I need it.
This is the fight that will teach me that my shadow is not bigger than my light. This is the fight that will teach me that bad feelings don’t mean the end of a relationship. This is the fight that will teach me how to listen to myself, even when it might disappoint others.
And this particular fight will end. Like any storm, it will blow over. And I will forget and you will forget. And then it will come back. And I will need you to hang on to the rope again. I will need this over and over for years.
I know there is nothing inherently satisfying in this job for you. I know I will likely never thank you for it or even acknowledge your side of it. In fact I will probably criticize you for all this hard work. It will seem like nothing you do will be enough. And yet, I am relying entirely on your ability to stay in this fight. No matter how much I argue. No matter how much I sulk. No matter how silent I get.
Please hang on to the other end of the rope. And know that you are doing the most important job that anyone could possibly be doing for me right now.
Love, Your Teenager
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Tuesday, June 9, 2015
100 Things...
1. There are plenty of ways to enter a pool. The stairs is not one of them.
2. Never cancel dinner plans by text message.
3. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.
4. If a street performer makes you stop walking, you owe him a buck.
5. Always use ‘we’ when referring to your home team or your government.
6. When entrusted with a secret, keep it.
7. Don’t underestimate free throws in a game of ‘horse’.
8. Just because you can doesn’t mean you should.
9. Don’t dumb it down.
10. You only get one chance to notice a new haircut.
11. If you’re staying more than one night, unpack.
12. Never park in front of a bar.
13. Expect the seat in front of you to recline. Prepare accordingly.
14. Keep a picture of your first fish, first car, and first boy/girlfriend.
15. Hold your heroes to a high standard.
16. A suntan is earned, not bought.
17. Never lie to your doctor.
18. All guns are loaded.
19. Don’t mention sunburns. Believe me, they know.
20. The best way to show thanks is to wear it. Even if it’s only once.
21. Take a vacation of your cell phone, internet, and TV once a year.
22. Don’t fill up on bread, no matter how good.
23. A handshake beats an autograph.
24. Don’t linger in the doorway. In or out.
25. If you choose to go in drag, don’t sell yourself short.
26. If you want to know what makes you unique, sit for a caricature.
27. Never get your hair cut the day of a special event.
28. Be mindful of what comes between you and the Earth. Always buy good shoes, tires, and sheets.
29. Never eat lunch at your desk if you can avoid it.
30. When you’re with new friends, don’t just talk about old friends.
31. Eat lunch with the new kids.
32. When traveling, keep your wits about you.
33. It’s never too late for an apology.
34. Don’t pose with booze.
35. If you have the right of way, take it.
36. You don’t get to choose your own nickname.
37. When you marry someone, remember you marry their entire family.
38. Never push someone off a dock.
39. Under no circumstances should you ask a woman if she’s pregnant.
40. It’s not enough to be proud of your ancestry; live up to it.
41. Don’t make a scene.
42. When giving a thank you speech, short and sweet is best.
43. Know when to ignore the camera.
44. Never gloat.
45. Invest in good luggage.
46. Make time for your mom on your birthday. It’s her special day, too.
47. When opening presents, no one likes a good guesser.
48. Sympathy is a crutch, never fake a limp.
49. Give credit. Take blame.
50. Suck it up every now and again.
51. Never be the last one in the pool.
52. Don’t stare.
53. Address everyone that carries a firearm professionally.
54. Stand up to bullies. You’ll only have to do it once.
55. If you’ve made your point, stop talking.
56. Admit it when you’re wrong.
57. If you offer to help don’t quit until the job is done.
58. Look people in the eye when you thank them.
59. Thank the bus driver.
60. Never answer the phone at the dinner table.
61. Forgive yourself for your mistakes.
62. Know at least one good joke.
63. Don’t boo. Even the ref is somebody’s son.
64. Know how to cook one good meal.
65. Learn to drive a stick shift.
66. Be cool to younger kids. Reputations are built over a lifetime.
67. It’s okay to go to the movies by yourself.
68. Dance with your mother/father.
69. Don’t lose your cool. Especially at work.
70. Always thank the host.
71. If you don’t understand, ask before it’s too late.
72. Know the size of your boy/girlfriend’s clothes.
73. There is nothing wrong with a plain t-shirt.
74. Be a good listener. Don’t just wait for your turn to talk.
75. Keep your word.
76. In college, always sit in the front. You’ll stand out immediately.
77. Carry your mother’s bags. She carried you for nine months.
78. Be patient with airport security. They’re just doing their jobs.
79. Don’t be the talker in a movie.
80. The opposite sex likes people who shower.
81. You are what you do, not what you say.
82. Learn to change a tire.
83. Be kind. Everyone has a hard fight ahead of them.
84. An hour with grandparents is time well spent. Ask for advice when you need it.
85. Don’t litter.
86. If you have a sister, get to know her boyfriend. Your opinion is important.
87. You won’t always be the strongest or the fastest. But you can be the toughest.
88. Never call someone before 9am or after 9pm.
89. Buy the orange properties in Monopoly.
90. Make the little things count.
91. Always wear a bra at work.
92. There is a fine line between looking sultry and slutty. Find it.
93. You’re never too old to need your mom.
94. Ladies, if you make the decision to wear heels on the first date, commit to keeping them on and keeping your trap shut about how much your feet kill.
95. Know the words to your national anthem.
96. Your dance moves might not be the best, but I promise making a fool of yourself is more fun than sitting on the bench alone.
97. Smile at strangers.
98. Make goals.
99. Being old is not dictated by your bedtime.
100. If you have to fight, punch first and punch hard.
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Tuesday, April 14, 2015
Friday, April 3, 2015
Conversations with a 3 year old and other tidbits
March 29, 2015
Talon: I love you, Mama. I'm glad you're mine.
Me: Me too, Talon. I wouldn't trade you for the world.
Talon: Not even for a squirrel?
Me: Not even for a squirrel.
March 24,2015
Sometimes I like to torture myself by allowing myself to live 3000 years ago in Egypt in the palace of a boy king. He's 3 years old and if I don't fix his breakfast to his liking, my head will be on his platter.
March 15,2015
There is something so satisfying about washing a couple sand-covered, snack-smeared, dirt-infested, snot-rocket, tear-streaked, sun-kissed, sweat-soaked toddlers at the end of day. Happy Sunday!!
Feb 5, 2015
Duck boots and pink duckie underwear? Check. Lincoln is ready...ready for what, I'm not sure yet
art emoticon
May 17, 2015
While watching Pitbull perform with his dancers on American Idol...
Talon: Mom, those girls are wearing a bra.
(a few minutes later)
Talon: Mom, my penis can lift things!
In the van on the way home from the store, I stick my hand in my sweatpants to adjust something I think is in my pants.
Me (to no one): What is in my pants?
Talon: Poo-poo? (Me: No) Pee-pee? (Me: No.) Wood chips? (Me: hhahaha! No!) Birds? (No!)
June 7, 2015
Watching The Fitness Marshall on YouTube doing Twerk It Like Miley.
Talon: Those girls are shaking their butts. Just like mama.
June 5, 2015
Talon: I'm gonna tell that tornado to go away!
Talon: I love you, Mama. I'm glad you're mine.
Me: Me too, Talon. I wouldn't trade you for the world.
Talon: Not even for a squirrel?
Me: Not even for a squirrel.
March 24,2015
Sometimes I like to torture myself by allowing myself to live 3000 years ago in Egypt in the palace of a boy king. He's 3 years old and if I don't fix his breakfast to his liking, my head will be on his platter.
March 15,2015
There is something so satisfying about washing a couple sand-covered, snack-smeared, dirt-infested, snot-rocket, tear-streaked, sun-kissed, sweat-soaked toddlers at the end of day. Happy Sunday!!
Feb 5, 2015
Duck boots and pink duckie underwear? Check. Lincoln is ready...ready for what, I'm not sure yet
art emoticon
May 17, 2015
While watching Pitbull perform with his dancers on American Idol...
Talon: Mom, those girls are wearing a bra.
(a few minutes later)
Talon: Mom, my penis can lift things!
In the van on the way home from the store, I stick my hand in my sweatpants to adjust something I think is in my pants.
Me (to no one): What is in my pants?
Talon: Poo-poo? (Me: No) Pee-pee? (Me: No.) Wood chips? (Me: hhahaha! No!) Birds? (No!)
June 7, 2015
Watching The Fitness Marshall on YouTube doing Twerk It Like Miley.
Talon: Those girls are shaking their butts. Just like mama.
June 5, 2015
Talon: I'm gonna tell that tornado to go away!
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
The Playground Mom: Which type are you?
We're all in one category or another at some point in time. I admit there are days when I want to just sit on the bench and zone out or read or stare at my phone while my conscience is telling me I better look up soon and do a visual sweep for toddler location. Being a parent to a toddler, whether you have one or four, is exhausting. There is no true down-time. I have yet to find the perfect playground for my 1 and 3 year old. It would involve zero hazards, enclosed area with multiple play scenarios and textures to keep them fully occupied for at least 45 minutes. Too much to ask? Meh. Maybe.
After attending a local playground recently and watching a movie on The Happiest Toddler on the Block by Dr. Harvey Karp, it was such a smack in the face of the different types of playground parents all present. I'm no expert. My degrees in parenting are a double major of two little boys which involves an education described as learn-as-you-go.
Here's what I observed
1. The Spotter Parent: Always one step behind. They aren't really saying anything to their kid but completely terrified they'll hurt themselves even when they're in an age-appropriate play area.
2. The Preoccupied Parent: This parent tells the kids, go play! then plops herself on a bench with her coffee and her phone or a book or both. She doesn't bother to or rarely bothers to look up. She's tired. I get it. She's exhausted. I GET IT. Meanwhile, their kid just hit another kid or fell down the stairs or toddled off towards the creek. Another parent has to bring them over to them and say, "Is this your child?"
3. The Over-Parent Parent: Watch out for the little ones! Be careful! Don't go over there! Be nice! Watch out for the little ones! Be careful! Go over here! Come back! Be nice! Don't yell too loud! Be quiet! Softer voice! Watch out! over and over and OVER. Don't yell too loud?! Are you serious? We're at a park and he's standing on a tree trunk pretending to be a super hero (or something). Let the kid empty his lungs. The poor kid of this mom literally had a screaming fit because he was completely overstimulated from his every move being controlled. She kept telling him to watch out for the little ones (my 1 year old) when he wasn't even close enough to Lincoln to hurt or knock him over. Lady, chill. Your kid is gonna have a nervous break....oh whoops. I watched this unfold in front of me. The kid wanted run on the stone slab with me and the boys. Right away, she told him no and tried to persuade him over to the other side as to not disturb us. I asked Talon if he wanted to ask this kid if he wanted to play with us but she managed to get her kid over to the other side before Talon could understand what was happening. My boys went over there too. Talon asked if he wanted to play with us. The kid said NO! I don't want to play with you. The mom told him that wasn't nice to say which was ridiculous because she wasn't acknowledging his feelings at all. It's fine you don't want to play with us; at least you're honest. And I can tell you're overwhelmed so we'll go back over here. The mom ended up holding his shirt in a power struggle as he's trying to get away saying she wants to talk with him when he's already shut down. Now she's threatening to go home, now she's trying to explain herself, now she's letting him hide...now is not the time to tell her to get on Amazon video and watch a little video called Happiest Toddler on the Block...
4. The Bubble Wrap Parent: This mom followed her (probably 5 or 6 year old)daughter around the playground helping her do EVERYTHING because she...couldn't do it herself? She held her hand and waist on the stepping stones. She held her up on the monkey bars. She spotted her on the baby slide. Does this mom think she's too physically weak to do these things on her own? Think this kid is gonna have any dependence issues? Naaaah, not at all.
5. The Kid Parent: This is parent isn't afraid of making a fool of themselves on the playground. They play, growl, fall, snort, chase, climb and do everything with their kid regardless of kid gender.
6. The You're Fine Parent: Kid falls, cries and the parent tells them over and over that they're fine. NO, they're not. They fell and they are scared or hurt or both. Will you PLEASE FUCKING ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR KID'S FEELINGS!? PLEASE?! Wow, you fell! That must have hurt? Are you okay? Wow, you fell! You go BOOM! Are you okay? You won't be raising a cry baby if you acknowledge your kid's feelings. In fact, you'll teach them that they matter and what they think matters...from now until when they're an adult. We ALL want to be acknowledged.
7. The Good Job/Good Girl/Good Boy Parent: This parent ends up giving their child absolutely zero feedback for what they're doing. It's "Good _____" on everything they do. The problem with this type of praise is that it teaches children to rely on others to judge their actions. They must meet other people's standards for them or risk disapproval. And why are we praising eating? Good eating! Is that really necessary? Your kid is a living thing and NEEDS to eat. It's not an option for his survival. How about praising their willingness to try a new food?
After attending a local playground recently and watching a movie on The Happiest Toddler on the Block by Dr. Harvey Karp, it was such a smack in the face of the different types of playground parents all present. I'm no expert. My degrees in parenting are a double major of two little boys which involves an education described as learn-as-you-go.
Here's what I observed
1. The Spotter Parent: Always one step behind. They aren't really saying anything to their kid but completely terrified they'll hurt themselves even when they're in an age-appropriate play area.
2. The Preoccupied Parent: This parent tells the kids, go play! then plops herself on a bench with her coffee and her phone or a book or both. She doesn't bother to or rarely bothers to look up. She's tired. I get it. She's exhausted. I GET IT. Meanwhile, their kid just hit another kid or fell down the stairs or toddled off towards the creek. Another parent has to bring them over to them and say, "Is this your child?"
3. The Over-Parent Parent: Watch out for the little ones! Be careful! Don't go over there! Be nice! Watch out for the little ones! Be careful! Go over here! Come back! Be nice! Don't yell too loud! Be quiet! Softer voice! Watch out! over and over and OVER. Don't yell too loud?! Are you serious? We're at a park and he's standing on a tree trunk pretending to be a super hero (or something). Let the kid empty his lungs. The poor kid of this mom literally had a screaming fit because he was completely overstimulated from his every move being controlled. She kept telling him to watch out for the little ones (my 1 year old) when he wasn't even close enough to Lincoln to hurt or knock him over. Lady, chill. Your kid is gonna have a nervous break....oh whoops. I watched this unfold in front of me. The kid wanted run on the stone slab with me and the boys. Right away, she told him no and tried to persuade him over to the other side as to not disturb us. I asked Talon if he wanted to ask this kid if he wanted to play with us but she managed to get her kid over to the other side before Talon could understand what was happening. My boys went over there too. Talon asked if he wanted to play with us. The kid said NO! I don't want to play with you. The mom told him that wasn't nice to say which was ridiculous because she wasn't acknowledging his feelings at all. It's fine you don't want to play with us; at least you're honest. And I can tell you're overwhelmed so we'll go back over here. The mom ended up holding his shirt in a power struggle as he's trying to get away saying she wants to talk with him when he's already shut down. Now she's threatening to go home, now she's trying to explain herself, now she's letting him hide...now is not the time to tell her to get on Amazon video and watch a little video called Happiest Toddler on the Block...
4. The Bubble Wrap Parent: This mom followed her (probably 5 or 6 year old)daughter around the playground helping her do EVERYTHING because she...couldn't do it herself? She held her hand and waist on the stepping stones. She held her up on the monkey bars. She spotted her on the baby slide. Does this mom think she's too physically weak to do these things on her own? Think this kid is gonna have any dependence issues? Naaaah, not at all.
5. The Kid Parent: This is parent isn't afraid of making a fool of themselves on the playground. They play, growl, fall, snort, chase, climb and do everything with their kid regardless of kid gender.
6. The You're Fine Parent: Kid falls, cries and the parent tells them over and over that they're fine. NO, they're not. They fell and they are scared or hurt or both. Will you PLEASE FUCKING ACKNOWLEDGE YOUR KID'S FEELINGS!? PLEASE?! Wow, you fell! That must have hurt? Are you okay? Wow, you fell! You go BOOM! Are you okay? You won't be raising a cry baby if you acknowledge your kid's feelings. In fact, you'll teach them that they matter and what they think matters...from now until when they're an adult. We ALL want to be acknowledged.
7. The Good Job/Good Girl/Good Boy Parent: This parent ends up giving their child absolutely zero feedback for what they're doing. It's "Good _____" on everything they do. The problem with this type of praise is that it teaches children to rely on others to judge their actions. They must meet other people's standards for them or risk disapproval. And why are we praising eating? Good eating! Is that really necessary? Your kid is a living thing and NEEDS to eat. It's not an option for his survival. How about praising their willingness to try a new food?
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
The day in the life.
Talon's conversation skills are taking quite an impressive curve. He starts by sitting down, clasping his hands together and saying, "So guys..." A couple mornings ago after pouncing on our bed at 6am, he states "So guys, I don't have a sister..." We said 'No, you don't. Do you want one?' He said, 'Um, no, I don't want to trade my baby brother.' Good answer, kid. He asked us our opinion on which train we liked in the Thomas the Train magazine. The child care girls at the gym often tell me that Talon is so helpful to Lincoln, looks out for him, stays with him when he's sad and is overall a sweet kid. (He has his moments for sure!) It's nice to hear they are kind and brave people when I'm tired and bored hanging out with limited-language, verbally-unskilled toddlers.
Lincoln pooped on the potty again yesterday. Celebrations all around; one little cute turd.
We have a video of Talon saying all sorts of things at 20 months and Lincoln has weak enunciation. He says, Ah, me, mama, dada, yah, get down. I won't say Lincoln's speech development is delayed because he's not 2 years old (when they become officially delayed if certain milestones not met) yet but it's looking like calling for an assessment will be on my radar in the next couple months. In Lincoln's defense, he signs more than Talon. And frankly, Talon never signed at all. Talon knows what Lincoln wants and will speak for him sometimes (not helpful, T, thank you). Lincoln knows exactly what is going on and can follow directions that involve more than one step. His body awareness is fantastic, very agile and very strong. He understands a plethora of words - just can't say anything back yet. So far the pediatrician and I are holding on that he's just choosing to not speak because he hasn't had the need.
I never knew this about myself until I had toddlers but I'm not really that good at playing with them. I often find myself wishing they were older, potty-trained and able to tie their own shoes. I still adore, absolutely adore, watching their little 1 and 3 year old butts wiggle all over the place. But it'd be much more interesting to go on adventures and talk about the great world around us. We will still do that...just not now and it's frustrating. The boys are in a developmental stage that I find slightly annoying. Toddlers are completely irrational and I have little patience for their breakdowns. I don't show it in my face or body language. In fact, I usually try to go the complete opposite to off-set myself. In my head, I'm gritting my teeth, waiting for it to pass, trying to talk them through their crazy toddler world. Talon threw a screaming fit at lunch the other day. He kept getting in Lincoln's face and Lincoln was squealing for him to stop. I told Talon to stop and he gets all defensive, hitting the table, whipping his hands around. I said, "I understand you're mad but it is NOT appropriate for you to hit." He screamed, I carried him outside and we sat in silence until he was ready to speak but not before I tried to physically get him to sit down. All he wanted was to get away from me so I just let him sit on the other side of the space. De-escalation was key for him; not trying to talk or yell or reason because at this point, he's already shut down. We breathed, I explained, we re-directed, we went back in, all was better.
Lincoln pooped on the potty again yesterday. Celebrations all around; one little cute turd.
We have a video of Talon saying all sorts of things at 20 months and Lincoln has weak enunciation. He says, Ah, me, mama, dada, yah, get down. I won't say Lincoln's speech development is delayed because he's not 2 years old (when they become officially delayed if certain milestones not met) yet but it's looking like calling for an assessment will be on my radar in the next couple months. In Lincoln's defense, he signs more than Talon. And frankly, Talon never signed at all. Talon knows what Lincoln wants and will speak for him sometimes (not helpful, T, thank you). Lincoln knows exactly what is going on and can follow directions that involve more than one step. His body awareness is fantastic, very agile and very strong. He understands a plethora of words - just can't say anything back yet. So far the pediatrician and I are holding on that he's just choosing to not speak because he hasn't had the need.
I never knew this about myself until I had toddlers but I'm not really that good at playing with them. I often find myself wishing they were older, potty-trained and able to tie their own shoes. I still adore, absolutely adore, watching their little 1 and 3 year old butts wiggle all over the place. But it'd be much more interesting to go on adventures and talk about the great world around us. We will still do that...just not now and it's frustrating. The boys are in a developmental stage that I find slightly annoying. Toddlers are completely irrational and I have little patience for their breakdowns. I don't show it in my face or body language. In fact, I usually try to go the complete opposite to off-set myself. In my head, I'm gritting my teeth, waiting for it to pass, trying to talk them through their crazy toddler world. Talon threw a screaming fit at lunch the other day. He kept getting in Lincoln's face and Lincoln was squealing for him to stop. I told Talon to stop and he gets all defensive, hitting the table, whipping his hands around. I said, "I understand you're mad but it is NOT appropriate for you to hit." He screamed, I carried him outside and we sat in silence until he was ready to speak but not before I tried to physically get him to sit down. All he wanted was to get away from me so I just let him sit on the other side of the space. De-escalation was key for him; not trying to talk or yell or reason because at this point, he's already shut down. We breathed, I explained, we re-directed, we went back in, all was better.
Sunday, February 1, 2015
Poo-poo on potty!
Lincoln went poo-poo on the potty yesterday, 1/31/15. Woo hoo! Still a long way from potty-training but it's a step in the right direction!
I lost Talon today.
Dear Talon,
Today was the first time I ever lost you in a public place.
You, Lincoln, Dada, Nana and I went to the Denver Nature and Science Museum this afternoon. We were in the whale exhibit looking around. You were so excited and were running around. I was trying to read one of the plaques about whales that beach themselves. You were still in my peripheral vision then I turned to look for you and you were gone.
I don't even really remember how long it was...I'm guessing 20 minutes. Time just sort of stopped. One family we'd seen earlier in the day was staring at me, looking on with empathy or sympathy, one of the two, knowing I'd lost my kid. They looked almost just as helpless, sort of looking around too. I realized walking speed gradually increases from cruising around looking to turbo-hyper freak out mode. I went from thinking someone picked you up, covered your mouth then headed out a side door to 'Oh he's fine somewhere, this is the museum and the doors can be locked' then back to 'What if they're already out?!'
We looked for you ourselves for a few minutes then told the security guards. After a few more minutes, they radioed the whole museum guards. Everyone was on the case. I walked through the gift shop, asked the cashier if he'd seen a little boy in a blue pants and a white sweatshirt come through. Wide-eyed, he said no, his face softened wishing he could have said yes. I took Lincoln from Jason because he was crying for me.
I thanked all the guards for their help. The one guard said, "You're doing really great, staying calm." I half-laughed, kind of said thanks and thought, 'Yeh, I'm saving it for if I really do need to totally lose my mind.'
Then the head guard heard something come in on the radio. I was hoping it was something about them finding him. It was; it was about a little boy they'd found in the atrium on the 1st floor. I went down two stories, two escalators to get to you. There you were at the bottom. You saw me, waved, pointed and said, "Mama!" I completely broke down crying and temporarily paralyzed (why I didn't run down the escalator as I think back is beyond me) but I had Lincoln in my arms, the guard next to me and I felt stuck on the step and just so happy you were in front of me safe. The woman and older guard with you said you were only minimally panicking. On one hand, I'm so proud that you felt confident and independent enough to go explore on your own. On the other hand, I wanted to tell you to never leave me again.
When tucking you in for bed tonight, you said, "You wait for me at the escalator and you were crying. You were holding Lincoln, my baby brother and you were crying Mama." I explained I was crying because I was so scared that I'd lost you and so happy that I'd found you.
Jason wasn't saying much but I could tell he was scared. He told me later he's mad at me. I get it; so scared you get mad. He did say that it could have happened to either one of us. My chest is still rattling and I'm mad too-- for all sorts of reasons.
Bottom line, I'm glad you're home and safe. I love you, Talon. I'm glad you're mine. I love you to infinity and beyond.
Love,
Mama
Sunday, January 4, 2015
Wingmen and Masterminds!
First entry of the "Family Blog". Talon's first year was documented, Lincoln's first year was documented---not as detailed as Talon's but I blame life which can't be a bad thing. Life got a lot busier.
Jason and I started reading (listening on Audible actually) a book, Wingmen and Masterminds by Rosalind Wiseman, the same woman who wrote Queen Bees and Wannabes. It's a guide to help you navigate boy world with your boys just as Queen Bees helps you navigate girl world with your girls. Only through Chapter 2, it's challenging, insightful, brilliant and sad. I love it. It makes me sad to hear the stories how children are being treated by their parents, their peers and adults around them. The book is making me think ahead and think in the moment. Ugly moments have surfaced and will reappear but that's being human. We will all make mistakes but how big will they be?
Rosalind describes how much research and support is out there for girls. Empowering messages, improving body image campaigns, connecting, communicating, all that stuff. Boys' issues get tossed aside, feeding into the idea that they are already strong. We don't think that boys need just as much support as girls, just as much attention, just as much guidance and positive voices inside their heads. They do. Ever seen a "Boy Power!" t-shirt? Nope. On that note of clothing, can we please get away from commenting on their appearance or gender stereotypes? Boys get "tough" t-shirts while girls get "sweetie" t-shirts. FUCK THAT! I'm seriously considering seeing how I can start a line of break-the-gender-mold clothing. Boys are committing more suicide, more gun in public places incidents, more time in prison. Why? Why are we shutting them down, telling them to be tough, to suck it up when they need just as much support as their girl counterparts? Telling either gender:
Rosalind says parental anxiety is one of the main factors that keeps kids from talking to their parents. The big sigh, the impatient name-calling, the eye rolls, laughing, teasing -- all things we tell our kids to not do but we do it to them! They shut down. I get frustrated with Talon's toddlerness but I also know it's not his fault. He doesn't even know he does it. Cognitively, it's his world being 3. She said boys need to be showed, not told, how to behave. Giving them a tagline like, "Be honest" doesn't work. It must be described and expressed how it applies to their life. Makes sense!
Anyway, I'm just excited about this book and excited to finish it. I know Talon and Lincoln will throw things at me for which I'm completely unprepared. The least I can do is prepare myself best I can; armed with knowledge, acceptance, and an open mind ready and waiting to help. If they can't come home and be themselves, talk about whatever they need (even if it's about me!), then where can they?
I started telling the boys at bedtime every night, "I'm so glad you're mine" because I am. I'm grateful for them and an awesome husband.
This blog was totally what I didn't anticipate but it's what came out so I'll go with it.
Jason and I started reading (listening on Audible actually) a book, Wingmen and Masterminds by Rosalind Wiseman, the same woman who wrote Queen Bees and Wannabes. It's a guide to help you navigate boy world with your boys just as Queen Bees helps you navigate girl world with your girls. Only through Chapter 2, it's challenging, insightful, brilliant and sad. I love it. It makes me sad to hear the stories how children are being treated by their parents, their peers and adults around them. The book is making me think ahead and think in the moment. Ugly moments have surfaced and will reappear but that's being human. We will all make mistakes but how big will they be?
Rosalind describes how much research and support is out there for girls. Empowering messages, improving body image campaigns, connecting, communicating, all that stuff. Boys' issues get tossed aside, feeding into the idea that they are already strong. We don't think that boys need just as much support as girls, just as much attention, just as much guidance and positive voices inside their heads. They do. Ever seen a "Boy Power!" t-shirt? Nope. On that note of clothing, can we please get away from commenting on their appearance or gender stereotypes? Boys get "tough" t-shirts while girls get "sweetie" t-shirts. FUCK THAT! I'm seriously considering seeing how I can start a line of break-the-gender-mold clothing. Boys are committing more suicide, more gun in public places incidents, more time in prison. Why? Why are we shutting them down, telling them to be tough, to suck it up when they need just as much support as their girl counterparts? Telling either gender:
- "You're okay"
- "Don't cry",
- "There's no reason to be scared"
- "Shut up"
- "Why can't you be more like _____"
- "You sure you want to eat that?" (don't get me started on that one)
- "Wait until your ______ gets home"
- "You're fine"
Rosalind says parental anxiety is one of the main factors that keeps kids from talking to their parents. The big sigh, the impatient name-calling, the eye rolls, laughing, teasing -- all things we tell our kids to not do but we do it to them! They shut down. I get frustrated with Talon's toddlerness but I also know it's not his fault. He doesn't even know he does it. Cognitively, it's his world being 3. She said boys need to be showed, not told, how to behave. Giving them a tagline like, "Be honest" doesn't work. It must be described and expressed how it applies to their life. Makes sense!
Anyway, I'm just excited about this book and excited to finish it. I know Talon and Lincoln will throw things at me for which I'm completely unprepared. The least I can do is prepare myself best I can; armed with knowledge, acceptance, and an open mind ready and waiting to help. If they can't come home and be themselves, talk about whatever they need (even if it's about me!), then where can they?
I started telling the boys at bedtime every night, "I'm so glad you're mine" because I am. I'm grateful for them and an awesome husband.
This blog was totally what I didn't anticipate but it's what came out so I'll go with it.
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