Kidding
Somehow this last six months has felt like a shift in our family. SuperBoy isn’t a little kid anymore. He’s in a whole different place, so I’m in a whole different place as a mom. Yes, he still has epic clashes with me and trouble listening at times, but his maturity is sometimes (sometimes) amazing. His wings are growing. Banging. Bashing around, looking for higher heights to leap from, and leading the way for the little kids to want and be and do more and more. Case in point. The other day, for the first time in months, SuperBoy was the gentle big brother I know is in there somewhere. He changed into his play clothes in the morning without a fight. He let his sister play with his legos without apoplectic screeches. He spoke in the cutest LOUD SLOW BABY TALK to the toddler who understood him perfectly and let us know with lots of “BABA” and “JEE-JEE” responses. {that’s my dad’s name and Jesus, FYI}. His idea for Lent? Offering up all treats and adding in doing all his morning chores before breakfast. WHO IS THIS KID? I thought about these posts I had written throughout the years: big boy battles, taming your toddler’s tantrums, feeling powerless with your preschooler, power parenting: why force & fear don’t work, helping emotional boy find his voice & ears. He’s growing up. That’s my dad’s dresser from his childhood we’ve repainted around those 50’s decals a few times for our babes. …
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My friend Shannon is a Brooklyn mama of two, and an amazing designer. She and her husband launched this gorgeous line called Natti Natti which means nighty night in Swedish. It’s organic, hand designed, and so soft. She was kind enough to send over this. And we swooned. And swooned hard. She has designed pocket duvets, regular duvets, pillows, blankets, and art prints. Her home in Brooklyn is one where you never want to leave because every wall has something thoughtful and interesting on it, but in a simple, clean, modern Swedish style so it’s not overwhelming. My daughter will not stop. She will not relent. She is in love with her duvet. To her core. Even though it was for her baby brother’s toddler bed! She’s hiding the special pillow. Because . . ?? When we switch the kids’ rooms up this summer and hopefully the boys are happy in one room and she’s happily established in her own palatial girl room (requests for her wall paint have ranged from gold stars to purple polka dots to wallpaper of dogs–we’ll probably go less exciting), I am getting this or maybe this for her big girl bed. Her teddy (my old teddy) desperately needed this bread stuffed into his pocket on the duvet, just in case he needed late night toast. Clearly, he’s hungry. If you have a babe moving into toddlerhood, you probably need this snuggler for him or her. Or if you need to swaddle, skip on over for this because my…
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Children are surprising. I have said a million times that I never thought I’d be a mom whose son wore athletic gear, and lo and behold. My brother’s shirt from 30 years ago, but still. I’m surprised at my son’s love of both knights AND pirates. Two seemingly completely different sorts of fantasy. He fell in love with knights last summer. In part due to my lego set from childhood, and in part due to these two books: Look inside Castles & Built to Last. Then we found this at a second-hand sale, missing the sword and shield. But that’s okay because my mom gifted him with this handmade set for his birthday, Christmas, and every event from here on out. And presto. Add a few hand-dyed silks as cloaks from my sister and BOOM: the love of a knight was born. Sprinkle in Jim Weiss’ King Arthur CD on repeat and you have Sir Gwaliwad, feared by dragons and loved by small children. (that’s his self appointed title.) I’ve promoted knight imaginative play for a number of reasons. Chivalry. Manners. Courage. Hard work. Skills. Endurance. Including your sister as Maid Marion who is an expert equestrian and skilled swordswoman. Help the poor. Charging around with your lance a lot. so punny, Nell. Then at his nature school, his buddies started in on their newest passion: pirates. I have to say, pirates have not captured my fancy like knights did. He insists that they’re all bad guys. I guess there’s merit to empathic…
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I struggle with this. With a daughter + girly-ness. I struggle with wanting her to feel empowered and not be victim to the trashy marketing of “you’re just a girl” and “pink is the only color” and “math & science are hard for girls.” She’s a few months shy of four, but these thoughts really pound on me as she continues to grow into her own (carefully shaped by me to the extent I can) interests. Despite coming from a family with four girls and then one boy, we weren’t girly girls. I didn’t shave my legs til I was 20, around the same time I got my ears pierced. I never learned to apply makeup or shop for my body type. I still struggle with “doing” my hair. And I’m the fourth girl! My older sisters weren’t complete tomboys but were more interested in academics & athletics than shaping their eyebrows. So when I look at my little girl, I think oh gosh, I need to teach her how to be feminine and powerful in her femininity. I need to teach her how to dress for her shape, perform basic female upkeep, and all the while battle away the influence of early sexualization and imposed roles on her. It’s on my heart a lot. I think I have a lot to figure out as she ages. But one thing I can/do deal with right now is gifts. Christmas & birthdays–we love gifts in my family! Here’s my list of gifts for…
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I learned a really important lesson for me last year. Without deliberating meaning to, my word must have been No. I experienced saying “no” and how wonderful that was for me. Saying no, feeling guilty about it, sounding selfish, but sitting happily situated knowing that it was a good kind of selfish. No: meaning, do less, be more. Meaning, say no to the world more, say yes to what’s going to work for our little family more. The inescapable pressures on a mom of young children to perform every conceivable duty well grates on me. Advance in your career! Have the perfect birth & nursing! Be on your kid’s preschool committee for healthy treats! Stay//become thin and sexy for your spouse! Don’t complain about being tired! Don’t gloat about having kids! Rinse, repeat. Perhaps for me the turning point was sending our oldest to a few hours a week nature school. Not much time away from home, but it still felt like a big shift from our laissez-faire, surviving three kids in under four years kind of life. Suddenly I got the two little kids on the same nap schedule, and I started homeschooling a little more in earnest with our oldest. I tuned into how our son was playing with his little frenemies at school, how he was coping with adjusting to listening to other adults, how our middle child needed special girl time, how our monster tot was, indeed, exceptionally physical, and that he needed extra attention just unto himself…
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Did he just eat that? Did he just say that? Why is he making that face while he’s apologizing? Does that negate the apology? Should I ask him to do it again? When he urges his toddler brother to hit his preschooler sister with a carabiner, should I not only confiscate the weapon but ban all other of said weapons as punishment? When his follow-up is that he doesn’t care about them anyway, do I confiscate all paper airplanes, legos, and Jim Weiss cds or is that overkill. Just the cds? How do I make the impression that I’m serious beyond shouting or frowning? Those don’t seem to be making the desired impact. Try quiet volcanic rage? Try ignoring? When he says that he already went to the bathroom but he didn’t, and I know he didn’t, and he knows I know he didn’t, do I stand outside the bathroom door to make sure I hear him actually go this time, or is that just really draconian? When he literally cannot sit still but doesn’t want to join me in a funky kitchen dance party because apparently I’m borderline not cool anymore (??!!??), do I make him run laps up the back stairs, then down the front, or put on his winter gear and explore the backyard? What about when he is so antsy-in-the-pantsy but pretends to be “simply exhausted”? Forced fun never hurt anyone, right? Will he ever not love the Hardy Boys? Will he ever choose a career…
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