After dinner and homework, instead of running out the door, we headed upstairs, changed clothes and both kids climbed into bed with me.  Hubby was out of town.  I enjoyed reading a magazine while the kids fooled around (doing what they do).  Then my newly turned 2-year old came over to see what I was reading.

“O!”, he pointed out a letter O on the cover page.  He knows his shapes and I’m wondering why and when he started calling a circle O.  “O! O! O!”, he repeated as he pointed out several Os on the page.  I smile at him in acknowledgement and continue to read when he begins a round of “A! A!”, pointing at the As on the page.  This got my attention.  I clapped in excitement.  Big sister scooted over to see what was going on.  Baby Brother, enjoying the attention showed her the Os and As.  Then, “E!”.  Even though he was pointing at an F, I was pretty impressed. 

This experience made staying home absolutely worth it and I felt shamed that I do not spend enough time with him.   At the same time, I am thankful that I have access to such great childcare.  Our neighbor who runs a home daycare does not just watch him, she puts a lot of effort and energy into teaching and she’s got incredible patience with the kids.  Thanks to her efforts, I’m seeing that Baby Brother is not just funny, he’s also very smart.  The week before, Hubby and I were shocked to discover that Baby Brother could count to 20.  He usually counted to 10 and we would all clap in celebration.  But this time, Hubby and I were busy and did not clap at 10.  When Baby Brother said “Eleven”, Hubby and I dropped what we were doing and listened in astonishment as we went to “Twenty”, at which time we went crazy with applause.  He looked so proud.

We got home and had dinner, after which Baby Brother proceeded to grunt.  “Do you want potty?”, I asked.  He ignored me.  Afterwards, the smell confirmed that he had pooped.  “Next time, you tell mommy you need potty.  Okay?”, I told him in a pleasant but matter-of-fact tone.  He looked like he understood.  Perhaps, it is indeed potty training time.  I allowed myself to hope.  I recall that recently, he has been telling me after he goes, at least, most of the time.  This is definitely an improvement on when he comfortably sat in his stink.  Hope.

The following day, we have dinner, he has post-dinner snack, he has milk, then changes into PJs and fresh diapers.  Then he begins to grunt.  Yes, he’s grunting, he’s ready for potty.  I intercede.  “Let’s go to the potty”, I put on a sweet voice.  “No!”, he barks at me.  At the same time grunting increases, he’s pushing and he does not like my interference.  “Potty.  You poopoo in potty.”, I’m getting firmer.  He gets more aggressive.  “NO!!”  This time his legs are shaking due to the magnitude of the job.  Then he’s done.

“Next time, you poopoo in potty.  Okay?”  He smiles at me.  His ordeal over, he becomes his pleasant self again.  I lead him into the bathroom where we get him out of his one piece PJ.  I extract the diaper.  I show him where the contents should go next time.  I ask if there’s more, if he wants to sit.  He shakes his head and tells me no.  I clean him up and grab a new diaper.  As I pick up the clean diaper, he shrieks, “potty”.  He decides to give the potty a try afterall.  He sits and he sings.  He looks very happy.  I wait, I sing with him, I wait.  But nothing.  “Get down?”, I ask.  He says no.  I walk out of the bathroom and he yells out, “done.”  I pick up the diaper and he scrambles back on the potty again, excitedly chanting “no no no.”  Ha!  I see his game plan - he thinks so long as he sits on the potty, he can remain butt-naked, a state he likes.

Enough of taunting this mom with potty hopes.  I grab him and strap a new diaper on him.  I’m done till he begins his next grunt.

1. Two healthy and smart kids
2. Hubby and I in good health
3. And good jobs in a bad economy
4. Economy getting better
5. Improving finances and credit card elimination
6. My older daughter accepted into first grade, skipping kindergarten
7. Plus an excellent teacher and adjusting well to her new school (dispelling any concerns about being ‘pushed ahead’)
8. Our neighbor’s home daycare and her enthusiam for kids
9. Neighborly neighbors (it’s impressive when your neighbor rings your doorbell to give you a bag of his home-grown tomatoes)
10. Sitting for an exam that had intimated me and that I’ve found excuses to postpone for the past 2 years (and passing on my first try)

Now it’s time to prepare for Christmas…and a 6 year old birthday before then.

“I think Baby Brother will be a clown when he grows up.”  “No no no…I think he will be a jester.  A jester is funnier than a clown.”  Darling Angel is trying to predict what her brother will be.

Hubby and I quickly counter.  “No no no.  My son will be an engineer”, his dad said.

“But I think he will be a jester”, the girl insisted.  This argument goes on for days, repeated itself ocassionally over the weeks and eventually petered out.  Darling Angel finally accepts that it is unacceptable for her brother to be a jester (or a clown) when grows up.

I did understand her motivation behind the claim.  Baby Brother is a funny dude.  He likes to make people laugh.  As soon as he learned to walk, he would practice several types of funny walks, on bended knees, with stiff legs, just to get a giggle out of someone.  He likes to make faces.  And I’m sure that when we are able to understand what he’s saying, he will say a lot of funny things.  Right now, he laughs hysterically while he lets out his stream of babbles and points to the (I’m assuming) funny thing he just saw on TV.  But I explained to Darling Angel.  Baby Brother can still be funny, but he will have a nice job…like an Engineer (we’re kind of stuck on that for now).

Now, months later, Darling Angel suddenly declared, “I think Baby Brother will be a fire fighter.”

“No”, I quickly responded.  “He will be an engineer.”

Again, she insisted.  I asked her, “Why don’t you be the fire fighter?”.  To which she responded that she wants to be a doctor, besides, she doesn’t like fire.

“Aha, so what makes you think your brother likes fire?”.  “I think he will be an engineer.  Maybe an aerospace engineer.”

“But mom!  He never said he wants to be a space engineer.  He can’t even say that!”

“Exactly!  Neither did he say he wants to be a fire fighter.  But I think he will like being an engineer.  Or the CEO of a large corporation.” I used the mom prerogative.

I made it a point not to ask him yet, because if I ask him, “What do you want to be?”, I wouldn’t be surprised if he says “Arrgh, pirate!”, his most recent funny phrase, said with a squint in one eye.

Note: I do not have anything against clowns, jesters or fire fighters.  I just want my son to be something else.  I do have something against being a pirate.

As I had hoped, conversation flowed easily with the new teacher.  The teacher had feared that the decision to allow Darling Angel skip kindergarten may turn out to be wrong but thankfully, she was coping incredibly well, both socially and with her school work.  The teacher pointed out the first grade word list we had been given at the beginning of the school year and remarked that since Darling Angel had already mastered all of it, she has upgraded her to the second grade word list.  That’s what I’m talking about!  Keep her challenged.

Then the teacher asked me if there was any area where I thought Darling Angel needed some help.  And I told her, “She needs to learn patience.”

“Exactly”, Teacher chimes.  I’m loving this.  We are so on the same page.  I visualize us holding hands, singing Kumbaya.  We trade stories to illustrate Darling Angel’s lack of patience.  Like when she had the homework to color a brick wall using a pattern of three colors.  She spent ten minutes complaining about how long it would take.  Also she zips through to her homework so quickly, leaving some questions unanswered in the process. 

“How do we fix that?”, I ask.  Teacher tells me that to an extent, it is normal with kids at this age.  But every little effort helps.

Hubby already suggested giving her even more ‘homework’ at home so she can exercise her patient muscles.  Given that homework is often happening while doing dinner, cleaning, getting ready for tomorrow, I haven’t implemented the more homework strategy yet.  She needs to learn to focus on what she is doing instead of worrying about the next task, which is often TV.  Or fractions, which are not in this year’s curriculum. 

I hope she naturally improves over time, but we also plan to enable the improvement.  I just haven’t decided what the plan is.  I’m still basking in relief that we made the right decision in moving her to a new school.  And instead of working at odds with the teacher, we can work together in partnership to bring out the best in my child.  Amen!

Last night, I picked up one of the books from my “waiting to be read” pile.  The book is Chasing Daylight - How My Forthcoming Death Transformed My Life by Eugene O’Kelly, former CEO of KPMG.  He wrote the book after he was diagnosed with an aggressive form of brain cancer which claimed his life three and a half months later.  During this time, he shifted his priorities, quit his high-powered job and constant travels and focused on living in the moment and connecting with the people who mattered most to him.  He seemed to embrace his reality and chose not to waste his limited energy on questioning his circumstances.  He decided to live the best 100 days of his life.  His wife finished writing the book when he became too weak and after he passed away, and there, the book transitioned from the joy of living to the strangeness of death.  However, there were some important lessons that I took away (from the joy of living part):

Live in the moment
Enjoy what is happening now and stop obsessing about opportunities you missed yesterday or your hopes for tomorrow.  Definitely plan for tomorrow, but don’t let it compromise your enjoyment of today.   Or your focus for today.  It is amazing how much he was able to achieve in his 100 days and I’m considering setting goals for 3 month increments instead of the usual annual goals.  Also, happiness doesn’t have to wait till something happens tomorrow/someday.  You can find it every single day.

Live at full consciousness
Stop and smell the flowers.  Often we’re rushing from place to place that we fail to appreciate the beauty around us.  Sometimes we’re not rushing but we’re just dulled by routine.  A few weeks ago, I had to pick up theater tickets that I had bought over Craigslist and I was going to meet this lady at a halfway point.  The rendevous location requires me to drive from work along my normal route home, but instead of getting off my usual exit from the highway, I continue for another 6 miles.  As soon as I pass my exit, I notice the beautiful fall foliage of the trees.  It is so beautiful that I feel overwhelmed.  I was also puzzled.  Why the drastic change on this stretch of the highway?  The following day on my usual drive to work, I notice that it is equally breathtakingly beautiful along my normal route - I just hadn’t noticed!

It’s not all about speed
He had an funny story about running in a race with his daughter when she was 9 years old.  When his daughter later boasted to her classmates about how she and her dad had finished the race in 1hr 45mins, another boy boasted that he and his dad had run longer for 2 hrs.  It is a light hearted illustration that carries a significant message.

Channel anger into love
His advice to his brother who was angry at the blow he had been dealt was to channel the anger into love…love for his kids, love for what he has.  This has no logical basis.  His brother did have reason to be angry, but I believe he just meant that it was futile to be angry.  He did say he would willingly take a miracle cure if it presented itself but didn’t see much sense in spending his limited time angry, upset, questioning his situation.  Similarly, those who still have life should use it wisely.  Don’t squander away time being angry, wondering “why?”.  Spend that time loving those you love.

I can’t remember any other time since I lost my mom that the news of a death has hit me as badly as it did.  A 6 year old girl, healthy, cheerful, full of life.  I’m not particularly close to her parents but admire them from a distance.  But our kids look forward to playing together on Sundays.  “When it’s summer, when school’s out”, we told the kids when they wanted to visit each other’s homes.  Summer came but we were too busy.  Every Sunday, we would mutter a “One of these Saturdays.”  The kids, meanwhile made their plans.  My daughter had a bag packed, ready to go.  It contained doll hairbrushes, some hair accessories, teaspoons and other tea party supplies.  Then summer was over.  “Next summer we’ll do something”, we consoled the kids.  But now, there is no next summer.

A healthy six year old girl.  Bade goodnite to her parents and gone by morning.  Scary…because it reminds you that nobody is immune.  Life is fleeting.  Don’t wait till next summer.

My heart is heavy.  This hurts so much.  But worst of all, I cannot imagine what the parents are going through at this moment.  I pray God gives them the strength to get through it.

Sometime between now and Christmas, there is Thanksgiving, my son turns two and my daughter turns 6.  My daughter has been planning her dream birthday for almost a year.  She didn’t have one last year since we were still recovering from Baby Brother’s first birthday, so we think she we should execute some of her plan this year.  Some.  But my point is, I’m ways off from planning Christmas.  But what better way to get in the Christmas spirit than to enter giveaways. 

5minutesformom is hosting a Christmas Giveaway and I’m salivating for the Veggie Tales collection.  Imagine all the hours of healthy TV I can impose on the kids without them getting bored (the older one is now needing a steady stream of new content to prevent boredom).  And Darling Angel will love love love the Strawberry Shortcake doll and i-dog.

Okay….I’m off to enter into the giveaways rather than just talk about them.

Personalities of our children vary and some children may be more susceptible than others.  You know your child best and should pay attention to what they are hearing from you.  Is it helping the child build self confidence or destroying it?  Is it making them better at what they’re doing or is it making them afraid to try?

I thought I was doing okay in this department but I just realized how very easy it is to fail.  “Remind me to get that CD out of the trunk”, I told my 6 year old daughter as we drove to church.  I had cleaned out a lot of junk (CDs included) from the car and dumped them in the trunk for later sorting.  And Baby Brother seemed to be whining for the Backyardigans CD. 

On our way back home, I remembered.  “You didn’t remind me to get that CD out”.  Silence.  Then I glance back and see tears streaming down her eyes.  Alarmed, I ask, “What’s the matter?”

“I’m always forgetting things”, she lamented.  She’s blaming herself for something that is so obviously my fault.  But then, I transferred that blame to her without thinking.  I felt so awful.  What kind of mother am I?  While this incident was completely trivial, I couldn’t help recalling all the times I had just casually dinged her for forgetting something.  “Didn’t I ask you to change into your nightie?”, “You forgot your sweater in class again?”, “I thought I asked you to get a book for your brother?”, “What did I tell you about leaving your shoes in the living room?” etc.  And when she tries to blame me for forgetting something e.g. “Mommy, you forgot to give me a snack today”, I throw it right back, “Well, you should have remembered to ask me.”  Terrible.

Some of the feedback she had received was clearly warranted.  She needs to remember to put her shoes away and not leave them lying anywhere.  And when it’s bedtime, she needs to change to her nightie instead of staying glued to the TV.  But she also needs a praise for the times she’s doing great.  And she does get some but I have to admit that the negative feedback overwhelms it.  Which is unfair because she’s a really great kid and 95% of the time, she is doing just great.  And I take it for granted.  I shouldn’t.

In the car, I tried to play catch up on the praise side.  I reminded her of all the times she’s remembered to tell me what she needs to take to school, she’s hardly ever forgets to pass on her teacher’s instructions, she remembers to put on her seat belt, she remembers rules, she remembers her spellings and how to do her math.  She remembers stuff from years ago, she amazes when she narrates incidents that happened when she was three or four years old.  She’s got an amazing memory and I reminded her of that.  I also reminded her of all the times that I forgot things and she had to remind me.  I reminded her that I also forgot about the CD.  Everybody forgets somethings sometimes, I explained.  By now, she no longer appears upset.

And I’ve learned a valuable lesson in the process.