Quiet Misery

It's amazing how things change when you become a parent and get to the point of sending your children off to school for the day. It's a nerve-wracking experience, but also one that comes with a strange feeling of being free and not quite knowing what to do with that freedom. I've been a stay-at-home mom for a little over 2 yrs and other than those years I worked out of the house, I can't think of a single day I've gone more than 3 hours without my children. Before I had the children, I relished my days off, always thinking of 1 thing or another to do, to pass time. I relished the quiet that came from vacations and holidays, enjoying a work-free day without phones to answer, computers to repair, and things to type. I'd shop, take a nap, play in the yard, go for a hike...there were endless possibilities. I think back to that time, now, and can't imagine such a stress free and easy existence. Having children in my life has changed my viewpoint in ways I could not have dreamed.

When I first learned our local school would be switching to full-day Kindergarten, I was apprehensive, but happy to have the chance at some much needed "alone" time. Last year, with my son in 1/2 day Kindergarten and my daughter going to Preschool for 3 hrs, 3 times a week, I juggled errands in a limited time-slot, shuttling children back and forth to school, as needed. "This year will be a great chance for me to get lots of things checked off my to-do list and really focus on myself," I thought. The kids had been fighting quite a bit and so the idea of having long stretches of quiet seemed so needed. I could feel the stress lifting as I pictured myself running through the grocery store with a regular shopping cart, checking things off my list at the speed of light - no children begging for sugar-laden snacks, no wide-turning car cart, and no one asking me to read every sign and box.

The night before the first day of school, the reality started to sink in as I packed their bags and laid out their clothes for morning. "This feels so strange," I thought. "I'm losing both of my babies. Life will never be the same." I got them to bed at the correct time and no one complained or stalled about the process. They were excited to go and I had no idea why that bothered me so much. The next morning, I put them on the bus, walked back in to the house, and stared at my coffee. I didn't cry, even though I felt like I should. I really didn't know what to do. I must've sat there for at least an hour, waiting for something, anything, to happen. The house felt so quiet.

I was in a bit of daze that day. I did some cleaning, folded the laundry, and tried to get to that to-do list. It was all very surrealistic and without motivation. I slumped through the day, checking the clock multiple times, wondering when the kids would be home. It was just so quiet. I turned the radio on, turned the TV on, played the piano...It wasn't the same. I caught up on blog reading, flipped through a magazine, checked the weather...I looked at the clock. What time is it, now? It's only noon. What am I supposed to do with this day? All my plans of leisure and productivity and "alone" time went completely out the door with the kids. I forgot everything. Back to staring at my coffee...

Now, on day #6 of school, I'm thinking back to my college days and how my mother reacted when I, the youngest of 4, left the house for the 1st time. I remember my mother called me, every day, for at least a month, checking in and asking when I'd be home to visit. I remember laughing about it with my friends. It was a bit annoying, at the time, and felt intrusive as I set out to discover my adulthood. These past 6 days have made me understand her actions a bit more, as I struggle with new-found independence after being without for so long. The quiet is deafening and it seems strange sitting here, no one asking for anything or striking up a silly conversation. I even miss the fighting, just a little bit. If I could, I would most likely act just as my mother did, checking in with them constantly, partly out of curiosity and partly to make sure they're okay. Maybe it's instinct to be like this or maybe, it's just a selfish need to be needed. Either way, it's a strange, nagging feeling.

I'm sure it will get easier, but right now, as I sit here at 10:00 am with my 2nd cup of coffee, I miss my kids. I miss their personalities. I miss their conversations. I miss my daughter's random, made up songs about everything. I miss the noise. I hate the quiet. I know that 3:00 pm will come much faster than it did that 1st day and I'll be once again breaking up fights, dishing out snacks, and lecturing them about leaving shoes in the middle of the kitchen floor. As with every night before school, I'll dream of quiet and think about how nice it will be once they go to bed, until they do. It's at that point, as I pack their backpacks and lay out their clothes for the next day, that it will all begin again. I'll send them off to school and start counting the hours and days 'til Saturday comes and the house gets back to a normal din. It's the thing I relish as a parent. It's the thing that makes me realize I have the best job in the world, because it's a job I don't want to be away from. I don't relish the quiet, but relish all the wonderful noises my children produce, ear splitting and all. I reserve the right to complain when someone's screaming a foot from my ear, but in the end, I don't mind it that much, because it's still better than quiet.

Blog v. Nature

It's been a while since I've sat down and blogged. The gap is a product of a beautiful summer and my unwillingness to spend it inside. We've walked, we've played, we've hiked, we've camped...we've taken the time to enjoy this rare treat of a long span of fair weather. It's one of those things so easily taken for granted and I can't imagine passing up the opportunity to enjoy it, in favor of a computer screen.

One of the things I've most enjoyed about this summer is spending time near the water. There's really nothing like sitting, feet in a cool lake, staring out at the view. Birds fly overhead, mountains rise up in the distance, and an occasional kayaker paddles by, causing small ripples in the surface. A nice breeze completes the scene, which truly has to be felt to be appreciated. I've taken numerous pictures & videos, trying to memorialize these events, but they pale in comparison to the real thing. You just can't capture the sounds and smells of nature as a whole, or appreciate the way the sun flickers off the waves. Digital video, though impressive of late, still lacks perspective and the ability to surround you in a moment.

One rule we have for camping is that, unless it's raining, we maintain a media-free atmosphere. This is necessary, as the whole purpose of camping is to dive in to nature, something that is not easily accomplished when distracted by fast-paced electronics. Nature, at it's core, has to be felt. It's a slower pace, an easy gait, and a willingness to be immersed in the simplicity which sustains us as human beings. It's not until you enter it with a clear mind that you begin to see the importance of those small bits of our Earth, which get forgotten in a complex world. This rule has met with some resistance as the children have gotten older. But, as we've found every time, by the end of the trip, no one notices their WiFi missing or that there's no cell signal anywhere in the park. We just want to be outside.

In the end, there really is no Blog v. Nature debate, though it makes for a catchy title. Nature will win every time, if you allow it the chance. And, that's okay with me. Because, I know winter will come eventually, and so will the blogs.

Learning to Swing

My 6 1/2 yr old son, David excels at figuring things out and is always the first child in my house to learn something new. He's my little perfectionist, always watching and analyzing what everyone else is doing, making mental notes. He practices little, yet seems to get it right with very few attempts. This has been the norm for as long as I can remember and David's younger sister, Dani generally goes with the flow, watching and learning from him. As they've gotten older, however, it's apparent that Dani makes up for her lack of speed in her strong determination. While she rarely gets something on the first try, she's content to practice it over and over, for hours at a time, until she gets it right. Yesterday, this sparked an interesting shift in my household.

We recently added a swing set to the backyard. Since neither child had ever learned to work a swing on their own, I'd given them a few training sessions, in the hopes that my arms might get a break. Since David's not much for practicing things, intent on always doing everything perfect, after a few tries at swinging and not getting it, he'd simply move on to something else. Every day, they'd play on the swings in this manner, Dani practicing swinging and David coming up with several alternative uses for the swings. This was the trend, up until yesterday.

Yesterday, there was a new development, much to David's dismay. Dani, after several days of practicing, announced that she had finally learned to swing. I looked outside to see her working the swings, all by herself, pumping her legs just as I'd shown her. It was amazing watching her go back and forth, in perfect swinging form. I gave her lots of praise and congratulations for all her hard work in practicing. David, who had been sitting on the swing next to her, had completely frozen. He didn't quite know how to take the news. There were no words at all, just this expression on his face of disbelief in what had just occurred.

The next 3 hours went by like a 12 step program. First, David was angry, both at himself and at Dani. He wandered about the yard, sulking, watching Dani as she tested her new found skill. He stared at the swing set in disgust, refusing to even sit on it. We talked about things like jealousy and learning to be a good sport, since no one can win all the time. We talked about being happy for Dani and celebrating the accomplishments of others. There were tears and grumbles and denial. At one point, during the afternoon, David would not even go outside. He just sat in the living room, playing the Wii, occasionally breaking out in to tears. The discussions continued, until there was nothing left but silence, as he moved on to perfecting his game playing techniques.

After this seemingly long afternoon, something happened that I did not expect. All of a sudden, without saying a word, David stood up, went outside, got on the swing, and started practicing. There was a new look on his face of sheer determination, like I had only seem a few times before. It didn't take him long to master the art of swinging, once he'd made his mind up to do it. Within half an hour, I heard a familiar yell, as David announced he had finally gotten it. It was a beautiful thing to watch. The two children laughed together, swinging as they talked about swinging. They were perfectly in sync, looking at each other in discussion. I must have watched them for at least 2 hours, as neither wanted to get off.

Believing the day could not have ended better, I was given one more surprise. I was standing in the kitchen when David walked in with a somewhat serious expression. He had something he wanted to tell me. 

"Mommy, I think Dani learning to do the swings first was a good thing. I wasn't really serious about learning how to do it, but seeing her do it made me really want to learn. I don't think I would have practiced, if it weren't for her. So...maybe sometimes being jealous is a good thing."

Crouched down on the floor to talk to him, I just about fell over as he spoke. It was exactly the right way to look at the situation and was a profound observation for someone so young. While he may not have understood what I had said to him, he'd made the connection, stating in his own language what I'd wanted him to take away from the experience. Without knowing it, he had learned the value of healthy competition, something he'll experience many times in life.

A new David emerged out of the day, becoming much more aware of Dani's determination. He'd always seen her as just a little sister. But, for once, she'd managed to teach him something, rather than constantly learning from him. And, though humbled by the experience, David managed to find that happy place in it all, as both children went to bed with tired legs and a feeling of accomplishment.

Perfectly Synchronized Swinging

The Many Poses of Dani

My 5 yr old daughter, Dani has a talent for knowing exactly where the camera is at all times. This has spurred many a pose. Even my sneakiest attempts to catch her in a "natural" state most often fail, as I look back at the photos, to find she's managed some sort of face or strange arm gesture. In her mind, she's a top fashion model, strutting her stuff before a room full of photographers and executives. A good pose is essential and she's determined to try every possible combination of moves, to get that one, great shot. While I'm sure there's some attempt to copy something she's seen, before, the resulting poses end up unique, in true Dani style.

Though some poses are a 1 time thing, others have become favorites of her's, requiring them to be appropriately named.

The Chicken Pose

A recent favorite - chicken-like arm position & outward chest.

Disco Dani

best done while wearing sunglasses

Rock On

fist in the air & wave it like you just don't care

Surprise Face

Side Pose

variation of the Chicken Pose

The Sweetheart

squinty eyes & clasped hands

Advanced Yoga Pose

involves odd & painful looking leg positions

Safety in Numbers

I've always wondered what life would've been like had my husband & I not made the decision to stop having children after 2. Though, I absolutely hated pregnancy & am happy not to go through it, again, there are times I am just a bit envious of those with big families. While I love my children & wouldn't change them for anything, they are such different people that disagreements are inevitable and as they've grown, the gap between them has widened quite a bit. They fight about everything, lately, from the games they play to the shows they watch. They see the world in completely different ways, which makes it difficult, sometimes, to find that middle ground. Having other children around for them to interact with would certainly help at those times, by broadening their perspective and eliminating the boredom that comes with only having each other on a day to day basis.

After spending an evening with 6 children (my 2, plus 4 belonging to our neighbors), I can totally see the benefits of having a big family. Though, I'm sure things are much different around bed time, there is that sense of safety in numbers. Not only do they keep each other entertained, it's a far easier feeling when sending them out to play in a pack vs. sending them out as a 1 or 2. For about 2 hrs, last night, there were no injuries, no fights, and no one asking mom/dad to get them anything. I gave them each a flashlight, sent them outside, and the rest developed out of their collective imaginations. It was joyous watching them run around the house, playing some form of hide & seek in the dark.

While my body is done having children, the experience of numbers has spurred a realization that the best way to get my children past their fighting is to give them far more exposure to other children. So today, as a trial, I have a 5 yr old boy coming to stay with us for about 5 hrs. I'm hoping it goes well, as if it does, I have the option to become his regular caretaker, 2-3 evenings/week, through the summer and in to the school year. I am a tad bit nervous about the prospect, as I haven't taken on a position like this since having children. However, the idea of having a permanently scheduled play date for the kids, in addition to extra income, is pushing me to really want this to work. I also feel as if fate is once again trying to show me the direction I need to go. The boy's parents contacted me out of the blue, right when I'd been considering such an idea. That perfect timing is difficult to deny. No matter what happens tonight, I'll know I at least did my best to go with the flow and trust that something worthwhile will come out of the experience.