Congratulations all around

The little sneak...Maria finally got on her bike by herself tonight!  Yes, sounds strange but that’s life for ya.  She is right in between bike sizes and we went with the bigger size for her.  Therefore, she has trouble getting on the bike by herself and stopping the bike herself.  When she stops, she used to have to fall into the grass or onto the sidewalk because she could not reach her feet to the ground.  She has recently gotten tall enough to lean to the side and place her foot to the ground.  It is much easier to the eye to see her do that versus falling to the ground with her bike on top of her.  Two nights ago, she stood by her bike on the driveway, raised one leg over, and jumped on her bike as it rolled down the hill – she got on the bike all by herself!  I was so pumped up! Maria was even more excited asking me to watch her over and over until I yelled “My baby is getting on a bike by herself!” at which time she promptly told me to hush because I was embarrassing her. 

Mario, not to be one-upped by his sister, got out the scooter and tried to ride around on it to impress me.  After I congratulated Maria again for working hard on her bike, Mario looked up at me with sad little eyes and said “Mom, why aren’t you being nice to me?”  I tried to explain to him that Maria was accomplishing something at the moment and he would have a time when he was accomplishing something big, and I would congratulate him.  It fell on deaf ears.  He held his hands up to cover his ears and ran away.  When I went inside to talk to him, he ran to his bedroom.  He only came out after I tempted him with baseball. 

I pitched the ball to him and he whacked the ball all over the yard.  I kept congratulating him for his stellar performance.  After a few more hits, he looked at me and said “Maybe we should let Maria try to hit.”

Maria swung and missed.  Again.  Mario looked at her and said “Too bad, Maria. When you get better, you will get congratulations.”

That little sh–.  He was setting it all up and I did not even see it coming.  He has always got to one-up.  Maria is luckily unfazed by his behavior, but I am going to break him of this nasty little habit eventually (although I am sure there will have to be some congratulations involved).

Cheering in the Bleachers

Maria wanted to ride her bike tonight.  I was so tired and had not eaten dinner yet but I agreed to a bike ride because (1) it’s good exercise for her and (2) it gives us some time together after a long day at school and work.  Mario ended up meeting us at the park (Jon dropped him off because he was so upset that Maria and I had left without him).  The two of them bee-lined straight for the spruce tree with the awesome climbing branches.  Maria climbed up to nearly the top of the tree like a little monkey and Mario stared in amazement.  He got up the guts to climb up a few branches. 

While they sat on their branches, a group of boys ran over and shouted to each other about how cool it was that Maria and Mario were up in the tree.  One little boy started to climb up the tree when I heard his mom yell “Charlie, get down from there right now!”  The mom glanced over at me and shook her head in disbelief.  I could hear what was going through her head “what kind of mother would let her kids climb a tree and risk them getting hurt.”  When they finally had enough of the tree, we ran over to the swings.  I saw a mom I knew from Mario’s preschool.  She had her grapes and strawberries packaged up for her two kids.  I told her I was starving, and she offered me some.  I declined telling her that I thought we may hit Orange Leaf frozen yogurt for dinner in a bit.  “Frozen yogurt for dinner?” she questioned, amazed.  “Yep, with oreos and animal crackers – nothing better”, I responded.  Again, I could hear the bells going off in her head and the desire to cart me away to bad parents’ camp. 

So, when I got home tonight and found Harley Rotbart’s piece, Just Parent, No Philosophy Required, I took a deep breath and patted myself on the back.  We all have different parenting styles.  I am not going to shake my head at the mom who refuses to allow her kids to climb trees because maybe she had an awful experience of falling when she was little or witnessed another child have an awful experience or maybe she just gets anxious about it and doesn’t want to be sick to her stomach as they climb.  Who knows why she is prohibiting it but at least she is at the park with them allowing them fresh air and swings and slides.  And I am not going to poo-poo the fruit mom who refuses to put one unnatural food in her childrens’ bodies.  Maybe she had a parent die from cancer or maybe she is a dietician (my mom used to be a dietician but I think I rebelled completely).  I am trying so hard to not judge people – even when they may be judging me until the cows come home.  Because in the end, all three of us moms tonight were there for our kids in the park – in the metaphorical bleachers cheering them on – and that is all that matters.

Sleeping munchos

Dreaming?

Kisses all over those plumpilicious cheeks

and Gentle squeezes to their baby toes

Wanting to capture this moment forever

Our two pumpkins snoozing away and

Oh, So Quiet!

Awkward Talks about God

I sifted through Salon articles tonight as I listened to news about missing dogs and weekend weather.  I found a gem of an article by a writer that I had not heard of to date.  Sue Saunders’ Our Awkward Talks about God.

I connected with her story immediately; I struggle with how to talk to Maria and Mario about religion.  We have many family members who are catholic, and who have a strong faith.  We have family members who do not practice any religion but believe in living a moral and just life.  Jon and I were both raised catholic but do not practice.  We got married in a church and had Maria and Mario baptized but have struggled with where to go from there.  I firmly believe in treating all with respect and compassion.  I firmly believe in empathy and “stepping into the shoes of another.”  A lot of these beliefs were promoted during my years in catholic schools but as Sue Saunders also witnessed, there was a lot of hypocrisy witnessed during those years and long thereafter, too.  I can’t fathom people of faith who espouse how they love others – but shun homosexuals.  Or people of faith who judge others for certain actions but then turn around and engage in the same acts or worse.  Judgmental behavior gets under my skin like no other. 

Showing their compassion with homeless pupsLike the author, I have tried to be honest with Maria and Mario when they ask me about God or ask me where the deceased go after they die.  I also allow family members to talk to Maria and Mario about their faiths and beliefs.  I don’t want to mold their minds for them one way or the other.  They should have the ultimate choice what they want to believe and what they want to practice.  But I do, no matter what, want them to embrace certain virtues – compassion, empathy, care, respect.  I think that is everyone’s moral duty – religion or not.

Making it to the top

“Maria’s mom, Maria needs your help. She is way up in the tree.”

A boy in Maria’s first grade class ran towards me yelling those words.  I asked how high she was in the tree, and his eyes widened “she is really high!”  I walked over to the pine tree with him, ducked underneath the needles, and scanned my eyes from the bottom to the top.  I passed over a few kids on the first two branches.  Then no one.  As I scanned up towards the fifth or sixth branches, I spotted my little climber.  She was sitting on a high branch with her legs dangling over looking down at the crowd gathered below. 

“Do you need my help, Ri”, I asked her.

“No, mom, I can get down by myself.”

She stayed up a while longer.  It was only when everyone began to leave and I offered her a trip to Orange Leaf that she finally climbed down – without a problem. Maria is strong like her dad and me.  Her nickname in preschool was “the Muscle.”  She can tolerate pain better than most 6 year olds; heck, better than most 30 year olds.  We rode our bikes yesterday and she fell off right on her knees and hands.  I gasped fearing that she was really banged up.  As I approached her, I did not hear crying.  I picked her body up off the ground, and asked if she was ok.  Her friend ran over horrified asking “Maria, are you hurt?” 

Maria brushed her legs and arms off and told us she’d be ok.  She walked around for a minute, and then stated “Come on, let’s get to the park, people!”  Her friend stood amazed that she was not hurt.  While we walked down to the park, her friend admitted that she would have been bawling to her mom had it been her that fell.  “I know.  Most kids would be scared and hurt.  But Maria is a machine just like her mom and dad. She can take some pain.”

Maria looked over her shoulder at us and kept walking.  I could see a bit of a smile on her face as she turned around; I think she is quite proud of her pain tolerance.  That pain tolerance is what helps her climb so well, too.  She has to deal with the pricks of needles as she ascends, and the poking of tiny branches located randomly throughout the tree branches.  She has no fear of looking down from high above; if it was me, I would be sick to my stomach.  She is the same way when it comes to climbing walls.  She can scale up those things like it is nothing.  I have a feeling Jon and I are going to be watching her climbing some big ol’ mountain in Europe one day.

And I loved how all the boys were running around reporting that “Maria had climbed all the way up the tree.”  They were in awe without realizing it (heaven forbid that they were found to be in awe of a girl!).  I am in awe of her, too.  She is one strong, intrepid girl, and I am quite sure she will continue to produce more “awes” from all of us as we watch her grow up.

Riding it out

This weekend felt long.  

We had Maria’s friend Janira over on Friday night for a play date.  Mario got himself all worked up wanting to be near Janira even going so far as to ask for her autograph on his arm.  If she didn’t have any self-esteem prior to coming to our house, she sure has it now.  Maria gets annoyed and begs Jon and I to keep him away from her.  It works for a bit but then he sneaks upstairs to see them.  Every once in a while, if he acts like a pet dog or a new-born baby, the girls will allow him to play with them.  If he refuses to engage in the act, he is not wanted.

Saturday brought a hectic morning getting Maria ready to go over to Janira’s house for a play date and a movie and getting Mario packed up to spend a few nights with Grandma Ionno.  I hit the road at noon to head to Hamilton, Ohio for my cousin’s baby shower.  I was praying for sheet cake – I will take on a two-hour drive in the pouring rain with no issue if I know there is sheet cake waiting for me.  Alas, no sheet cake but there were cute, yummy cupcakes.  And there was good conversation with Meg’s sisters and nieces.  There is always a lot to talk about with them since I don’t get to see them much during the year.  They are down-to-earth and make me laugh.  We have two weddings this Spring for two of the cousins so Maria is in seventh heaven – she loves seeing the gowns and the ceremony and rockin’ it out at the reception. 

I got back to the house with only my hubby sitting in it.  Strange, yet peaceful.  No kids screaming.  No pulling at my shirt. No begging to play a game.  I actually got quite a few hours to just veg yesterday.  I thought a little about work and a little about tasks in the coming week but I spent a lot of time just listening to music and the scenery.  Just being.  Nice. In the evening, Maria traveled to the horse show with Grandma Meg and Peepaw.  She didn’t get home until 11 pm – Jon and I only stayed awake by watching Indiana Jones.  When she got home, she had an attack of the giggles.  She ignored our demand to sleep in her own bed (we allowed her in our bed because her neck hurt and we both were freaking out she had some strange disease).  She laughed at everything Jon said or did.  He sneezed, she laughed.  He said “goodnight”, she laughed.  Finally, Jon stopped talking and we all fell asleep. 

We woke up on Sunday morning at 7 am (can our kids ever sleep past 7 especially when they go to bed so late?!).  Jon headed to Marietta for a few hours.  Ri and I spent the first hour or so of the morning cleaning up her room.  We (actually just me!) gathered a lot of clothes for Baby Grace and a lot of toys for Goodwill.  After a bit, we both realized we were hungry and jumped in the stroller to head to Bob Evans.  It was packed – we got there just a bit late and all of the drunk college kids were strolling in with their hangovers.  We turned around and went to McDonald’s for sausage burritos and hash browns.  Not quite the same but it filled our bellies. 

On the stroller ride home, Maria seemed a little sad.  I asked her what was wrong, and she kept telling me nothing.  Finally, she admitted that she just wanted a play date with someone.  I told her we’d need to clean up a bit before someone came over, and she went into whine mode crying “Mom, what do we need to do?”  It got under my skin.  I thought what do I need to do to make her more appreciative of what she has and what more do I need to do to make her more willing to do chores.  How could I raise a daughter that thought she could just play all the time and not do any work?  How did I raise a daughter that was so moody at times?   

We stopped at the park before we headed home.  As I pushed Maria on the swing for the tenth time, it hit me.  I promote this behavior – I just stopped at the park after I told her we needed to go home and clean!  I help them clean their rooms after I tell them to clean their rooms themselves!  I go everywhere with them and take care of their every concern!  Ugh, no wonder she is acting this way.  What a dumba–!!! 

I sat her down after the swings and talked with her about my irritation.  I explained to her my epiphany and how I wanted her to be independent and respectful and driven, and how I had fostered a dependence on me by doing a lot for her instead of having her do it.  I explained that I did that out of love for her but that sometimes you need to push someone out on their own in order to show your love.  I told her that I was going to do that more and I needed her to work with me.  I looked down at her and she looked up at me.  Her reply: “Ok.”  I am quite sure she was thinking “what a whack job” but she has too big of a heart to say that to me. 

We went home and cleaned up some.  I also realized how ADD I am when it comes to housework.  I clean one thing and start on another but then I get side-tracked on something else.  Maria only follows in my footsteps. So, we have another day, another week, another year, to work on it all.  We threw down the dirty laundry and biked to pick up Janira and to Orange Leaf for a big ol’ yogurt with cookies and M&M’s sprinkled on top.  Much more fun than housework.  Then we went home, and the girls created a spa for me.  They filled bowls of water with flower petals and “mint” (green leaves from the plants outside) and scented lotions.  They got kitchen scrubbers and gels and a brush.  

I must admit that they did a half-way decent job.  Janira gave a mad foot rub and Maria rubbed my head with hair gel (I looked like a peacock afterwards but who cares when you get your hair pulled!).  They were just getting started when big ol’ bumblebees came swarming towards us surely smelling the scented lotions.  We made a mad dash inside and closed up the spa.  Barbies came next, and when I asked Maria to clean up before we took Janira home, she promptly abided.  My girl.

A splinter takes down Macho

Our macho little Mario who consistently taunts us by saying “Bring It On” and wrestling us was taken down by a one inch splinter. 

He brushed his hand against the wood bannister outside and got a tiny splinter in the palm of his hand.  He came in to show me, and I told him it should be easy to get out.  He remembered back to the first splinter he got months ago – Jon had to literally hold his feet and arms down while I worked it out with a pair of tweezers.  Meanwhile he cried and fidgeted the entire time.  We were forced to take that route with him after begging him to voluntarily allow us to get it out.  He absolutely refused months ago and continued to absolutely refuse this time around.  When I approached him with the tweezers, he freaked out.  He ran away; he cried huge tears; he begged and pleaded to keep the splinter in his hand. 

I finally calmed him down after ten minutes and got him to agree to allow me to just look at it.  It took me another 10 minutes to get him to agree to allow me to use the tweezers on him, and that was only because I scared him half to death by telling him that his hand would have to be cut off if he didn’t get the splinter out.  But he would only allow me one pick with the tweezers so I could not get deep enough to get it out.  After the one pick, he grabbed his hand and rolled on his back crying “I can’t take it anymore!”  He then would plead that we must stop because the pain was too much.  Finally, he cried “I just want to die!” 

Our macho wrestler pre-splinterI couldn’t help but laugh.  Even Maria chuckled.  I finally got almost all of it out but there was just a small little piece that would have come out if I could have used the sharp end of a pair of scissors.  But as soon as I picked those up, he ran away yelling “Those are too sharp, mom!  Too sharp!”  After throwing the scissors fifty feet away from me to convince him I would not use them, he made his was back to me to get the final piece out.  And we did.  He got a band-aid and a big ol’ hug and within ten minutes he was begging me to wrestle him.

Dandelion wishes

Dandelion fur

Brushing your face

as you continue to blow

with all of your might

Careful thought before the wish

We believe, mom

Magical moments

watching your babies

dream.

A+ Confident

Mario has been hearing us get on Maria about having to do her homework for the last eight months.  He usually sits in the other room playing his Ben Ten game or watching a show or jumping off the couch onto the chair and vice versa.  I have tried on numerous occasions to try to get him to read a book or draw while Maria is working on her homework.  He has always had no desire. 

He sees Maria get frustrated at times.  She is now at the stage of reading chapter books.  Some of the books are so incredibly boring that she brings home that I can totally understand why she detests having to read them.  Mix that with the fact that they have harder words in them so she can’t just fly through them like she used to do, and it is even more frustrating.  The other night I was making dinner and she was reading one of the chapter books.  She had to read eight pages and she had cried about that fact for an entire ten minutes before she finally plunged into it.  She wanted to read to herself so I let her.  Within a minute, I looked behind her and saw that she had flipped through to the sixth page already.  Each page was filled with words.  There was no way she had read all of them in a minute.  I looked at her.  She looked at me.  I crinkled my face at her.  She crinkled hers back at me.  I asked her if she read all six pages.  She said yes. I asked her if she read every word in those six pages.  She said yes but a little softer this time.  She glanced up at me after saying “yes” and then said “Ok, I didn’t read them all.”  At least she told the truth.  Mario watched the entire exchange, and threw in his comments at the end.  

“Maria, you have to do all of your homework.”

Maria rightfully flicked his arm. 

Mario working awayI think Mario used to enjoy watching Maria get flustered and enjoy the fact that he did not have to engage in this nightly exercise of homework.  But last night, he embraced the idea of homework.  Maria was taking a shower and something hit me to tell him that his school sent homework home for him to do just like Maria’s school does for her.  He totally bought into it.  I brought over one of Maria’s old kindergarten workbooks.  We started with an area that he is really good at – sequencing.  He looked at three pictures of a boy and he had to determine which action went first, second and third.  He got them all right.  I gave him a high-five and wrote “A+” on the top of the page.  From there, it was all over.  His head was the size of Jupiter.  I flipped over another page and had him work on the next exercise.  He got it right.  He wrote his own “A+” on the top of the page.  When he got to a page where you had to circle the objects that had a certain vowel in them (e.g., find the “a” words in ball, cow, and ape), he had no clue.  But when I tried to explain it to him, and point him in the right direction, he got so angry. 

“I know how to do it, Mom!” 

When he circled all of them, I let it go and moved onto the next page.  However, Maria was not so generous.  She had to take the opportunity to point out to Mario that he did not get the answers right. 

“Mario, you circled them all and that is not right. You have to try again.”

Mario’s response: flick her in the ear. 

He ended up finishing the entire workbook because he refused to stop until all of the pages were completed – right or wrong.  Maria left the room after the flicking, and cuddled with her dad on the couch.  I remained at the table with Mario watching him proudly circle the answers he believed correct and then watching him mark an “A+” a top every page of the book.  He certainly does not lack confidence.

Moral dilemmas over dinner

Jon’s brother, Kevin, posed a juicy moral dilemma situation to all of us as we sat around the kitchen table last night.  Now that is the way I could start my evening meal every night.

Kevin came to visit us from out-of-town with his wife, Margie, and their daughter Dagmawit.  Kevin’s oldest daughter, Shari, and her family came, too.  Mario loves Shari’s grandson, Isaiah, because he is spastic and loves to play fight just like Mario.  Maria loves Dagmawit and Shari’s two daughters, Emi and Eli because they play dress up and act silly and love to dance.  The kids ran all around the yard and the basement while we sat down and talked over a glass of wine and take-out from Aladdin’s. 

Kevin’s question sure got the talking started, and set up an engaging, thoughtful dialogue about all sorts of things.  The conversation provided a breath of fresh air, and I enjoyed sitting around with a group of intelligent adults talking about religion and politics and the economy.  Jon and I don’t get out enough with friends and family to do that.  We get so caught up in the thick of work and homework and baths and laundry that we forget to communicate about the latest social issues and news.  I used to have conversations like that all the time when I was younger and I don’t want to lose that engagement in my “old age” or should I say my “parenting age.”   

The Cousins (and Micah butting in the picture!)Meanwhile, the girls were dressing up in short dresses and heels and spreading bright pink lipstick on their lips.  The boys darted in the room with matching spiderman costumes.  They all enjoy each other’s company, and I appreciate that we have a family that gets along so well.  Maria was so bummed when they left for the night – she talked about how much fun she had with Dagmawit and Emi and Eli.  She reiterated a wish that she has expressed before; to have a sister.  When I pressed her about how great Mario was, she finally conceded that she loves him to death but that she would also love to have a sister around the house.  When I told her that sisters can get in fights a lot, she says she is used to it because her and Mario fight a lot.  She always has a retort.  Mario begged to have Isiah over for a play date again.  I wish we could borrow Isaiah for two hours every night so Mario could get out all of his energy by wrestling him, and get to bed at a decent hour.  

The night ended with a resolution to talk more with Jon about the latest world event and issues to make sure we keep these brains or ours a rollin’ with something other than parenting concerns of who paid the tuition and whether the kids’ school shirt got washed.  And god knows there is no dearth of issues to keep us from talking….