Goal Update

Tell me, why is it easier to put on an exercise video and do a 40-minute workout (Go Cindy Crawford!) than strap on some sneakers, grab an iPod and go run around the block for 30 minutes? Maybe I have more than just a slight dislike, but a severe aversion and mental hangup about jogging? (I still refuse to call the pathetic attempt I make "running").

BTW, only got one jog in this week... didn't even jog as far as before. I only went because my hubby threatened (and coaxed) me. Glad I've got such a good man!

Five-Year-Old Stories: Update

I got a message back from Zoë's teacher this morning.

It seems she did miss snack, but because she said she didn't like it. So, the teacher said she could get a drink of water, but didn't have to eat the snack. That's absolutely reasonable. And, yes, obviously the five-year-old translation was lacking some information.

So far as the time out: Zoë was playing with other girls in the toy kitchen area and there was a disagreement. After it was sorted out, Zoë piped up her bossy attitude and "spoke to the girls in a harsher tone". That sounds exactly like my oldest, bossy, I-am-the-mother child. For that she was told to go sit at her desk until she could talk better with the others. She sat there for two minutes and then apologized to the girls.

It sounds like she's learning, adjusting, and still doing really well overall. The teacher said:

Overall, Zoe is doing a great job in class! Nothing to worry about and she accepted the redirection very well. She is making friends and is kind to her other classmates.

So, everything is good. Whew!

Five-Year-Old Stories

Here's a question for you:

When do you talk to your child's teacher?

Yes, Zoë is in Kindergarten, and has just finished her first week and fourth day. She has regaled me with tales about kids calling her names, getting put into time out by the teacher because the teacher thought Zoë did something, "But I didn't!" She comes home today and said she didn't get snack "because the other kids were noisy- but they got a snack and I didn't."


So, my question: How much do you believe your 5-year-old and at what point do you go to the teacher?

Zoë has been known to exaggerate stories, and has been known to tell a fib or two. I don't want to rush to the teacher and be a freaked-out paranoid parent, and I do believe she needs to figure out consequences and rules and learn to navigate in the real world. YET, she's my little girl, in a new situation, and when she comes home starving because she didn't get a snack (remember, they eat "lunch" at 9:40 and she gets off the bus at 3pm!), the mama-bear comes out in me and wants some answers!

So, when do I go to the teacher?

Goals

OK, I guess something stuck from my years in Young Women (as student, teacher, presidency member). I know that in order for a goal to be realized, you have to write it down.

Some of you may have noticed the goals I posted on my blog. I had to write them somewhere. I need to be accountable and frequently reminded. My amazing husband is awesome about encouraging reminders. Amazingly enough, I don't hate him for telling me to get off my lazy butt and get to exercising- maybe it's because he says "cute and busy" butt instead of "saggy and lazy". There's also him there to remind me of my carrot.

I'm glad that he is there to encourage and help, but I know that the only person who can help me meet my goals is myself. I have to decide what I want to do, and what I think qualifies. Nobody can tell me if the bike ride I took the girls on was enough to be considered a thirty-minute workout.

And, so, I have written down my goals, and I would encourage you to ask about them. Just don't ask what happens if one of them disappears from my list!

I'm glad to report that, so far, I've been doing better since I posted them. I have fallen asleep in my bed before 11pm every night this week, and I have met half my exercise goal this week. Of course, I did rationalize last night that it was only 8:40pm so I could still have a snack because it was in the eight o'clock hour. Notice I put the time zone on my goal? I guess I missed that one.

I'm glad that I can start over today!

Flawed Study & Report?

There is no link between mental health and abortion? Harumph!

The article states that they only looked at women who'd had one abortion, and who were not teenagers at the time. Well, from what I understand, you've now specifically selected a population that probably understands better what choice they are making. And, would likely have a better "support" system and less social recrimination. They probably don't have as much likelihood of having mental health problems.

And, yet, the study ignored teenage abortions and those women who have had one or more previous abortions. There must be some mental anguish, if not a diagnosable mental disease, and I am sure there are issues with guilt, relationships, and other life choices.

With my previous post on miscarriages, I wanted to note something. There might not be any link between "mental health" and abortion. But I know that there is an emotional link to the loss of a pregnancy- no matter what the cause. Maybe these women were relieved, but I still have "what if" thoughts and questions about a baby that couldn't make it. What would I wonder if that baby had a chance and I'd taken it away? I think even if I'd had an abortion for a very good reason, I would always wonder "what if" and be sad.

I am reading a book called The Philosopher's Apprentice (and I don't recommend this book). Part of the subplot is that there is a sci-fi spin with a machine that is able to "clone." Some evil people (the "Corporate Christi" as the protagonist/author has named them) get their hands on it and create a mob of "netherborn": aborted fetuses generated into adults. These aborted fetuses come back to "haunt" their "parents". The book doesn't project forward enough to make a comment on the abortion rate change. I really can only see it dropping off.

Ironically, I read another book this week, which I would recommend, called The Lady of Milkweed Manor. It tells a story of an unwed mother in the 1800s who goes to a "laying-in" hospital where she has her son and then decides to give him up for adoption. It was a heart-wrenching, tear-jerking story because of the author's pathos. I truly felt the pain of that poor mother and cried with her as she saw her options of providing for her child: abject poverty with her son knowing her as his mother or luxurious riches, education, a warm and loving family without ever knowing the woman who loved him more than herself. An amazingly selfless sacrifice. I wish more women were able to make that choice.

I hope they do more studies and find that, although there may not be a diagnosable "mental health" issue related to abortions, at least finding there are long-term consequences and that women need to be better educated about their options. Of course, my bias is to put an "unwanted" baby up for adoption, but then I think of it as a wanted baby, and not an unwanted pregnancy.

Zoë's First Day of Kindergarten

She woke up early this morning.

Is that any surprise? I remember the feeling of excitement and anticipation on the night before school starts. The smell of a new box of crayons, the shininess of your new backpack, the startchy feel of new clothes are all memories I carry with fondness.

She ate breakfast as is her usual right now- a bagel with cream cheese.

I'm sure other mornings it will be cereal, or bread and jam. Growing up my favorite breakfast was burritos or cold pizza, but maybe I'm remembering when I was a little older.

We read scriptures and I fixed her hair all during breakfast.

I can still recall my morning routine of family scripture reading and how one Saturday morning I woke up on the couch where we read together. I'm hoping my daughters are more awake than I was.

She helped me pack her lunch.

I know I brought a lunch a number of times, but I also remember buying lunch at school. The mushy peas, the smell of bleached water that didn't smell all that clean, and the favorite food days of pizza and tator-tots.

Her dad gave her a Father's blessing.

Every year would start out by receiving a blessing from my dad before I went back to school. This tradition continued through college; my most notable being the year I was blessed I'd find my eternal companion (which did happen that year, as a matter of fact).

We took a picture of her on the front porch, documenting her first day of school.

I look back at school pictures of me- and one I laugh with fondness is the picture of me in my favorite red sweater showing the telltale sign of Wonder Woman underoos undershirt peeking through. I loved that underwear!

Then we walked together down our street to the corner where the bus, 296, was to pick her up. The air was cool enough to warrant a sweater. Yes, shocking in August, but somehow appropriate for the first day of school. The sun was shining and lit her hair like gold. She was happy, but I could see her nervousness.

She spotted the big yellow bus first, and we crossed the street together. Of course, I had to snap as many pictures as my camera would allow in the few seconds it took her to climb on the bus- asking her to turn around and smile for me.

I didn't give her a hug!

I saw her peeking through the window, waving and timidly smiling, and blowing me kisses. I caught them, and put them in my pocket. I hope they'll stay there so I can pull them out during the day. I wish I could tuck them in my sock drawer and take them out in a few years, remembering how I felt as my oldest, but still so young, went off on her own new adventure, her first without me.



"I'm going to miss my friend, Zoë" Megan told me when we came back to our house.

I'm going to miss my friend, Zoë, too.

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Zoë's Report of Her First Day!

Her favorite part was recess, which was after lunch. She told me that because she forgot her water bottle in her backpack, her teacher got her a chocolate milk! She was very happy about that. She said she played with "all my friends" and she traced her hand. She was very happy when she came home, and obviously ready for another day.

The thing she was most excited about was her "agenda". It's a calendar where the teacher leaves notes for parents about the child, or if things went well Zoë gets a sticker or a stamp in that day. She was eager to show that to me, and look through the book herself.

Megan was very happy to have her big sister home, at least the idea of her back. Unfortunately, Megan got shortchanged on the sleep and food department today. Hopefully we'll be better off tomorrow.

It's in the Genes!

Someone mentioned that Miranda looks very much like her Aunt Becky.


Whaddya think?

Time is running out...

Summer vacation is nearly over for us.

Zoë starts school on Tuesday, August 12th. Only five days left of sleeping in, ignoring house chores to go to the zoo/park/pool, no more long weekends where we can go places without large crowds, no more travelling on the "off season" because one will be in school.

Don't get me wrong, I'm very excited (and nervous) about Zoë starting school. She'll be so happy to have time with friends every day. No more "Mom, what is the plan today" because it's already set for her. She'll be learning to read more (she's already started reading this summer) and soon she'll be reading books to her little sisters (which will thrill all of us!).

Yet, I'm apprehensive about her riding a school bus with big kids for 40 min each way to/from school. Eating lunch at 9:45 in the morning. Leaving at 7:30 am and not getting home until 3:00pm.

However, I'm really glad that I'll be able to shop with only 2 kids again, that I'll have more one-on-one (or one-on-two) time with Megan and Miranda. I'm glad to know that she'll be challenged.

I was reading my sister-in-law's blog about how she wishes she could hold on to the confidence and the self-importance a two-year-old has. I wish for those same things- that she can walk into a room full of her peers and be the leader who pulls them all together (unlike her mom who would cower in the corner!). I want her to know that she can be smart, but there will always be somebody smarter and not-as-smart in her class, and to treat both of them respectfully and learn from them both! I want her to be kind to others, but not be a doormat or a sycophant. I want her to love school, enjoy learning, and do well socially. I don't want her to be teased or learn bad words/ideas. But I want her to show how tough she is, and demonstrate her integrity that is already so strong. There are a million things I wish for her, and another million I hope never happen.

I guess this is where I let go, turn her over to God's care, and keep a steady prayer for her in my heart. And wait with sweet anticipation for summer vacation.

Swim Lessons

As a mom, I am very pro-swimming. I think every child should be taught how to swim, and then told that water isn't safe. Which order? I'm not really sure.

I was very grateful that a girlfriend of mine went to the vast trouble of finding the cheapest way to give her daughter, (A) who is a month older than Zoë, swimming lessons. Crazily enough, it was cheapest to split private lessons! So, we asked another friend who has a daughter (L) that is five months younger than Zoë if she were interested and we got together these three little girls- who also happen to be good friends.

When L's mom told her that she was considering swim lessons, L bothered her nearly daily about when they were going to start. A didn't want to go until she heard that Zoë and L were going to be there. And Zoë's reaction?

"Mom, I don't want to go" and "Well, it's too late, I guess we can't go today" and ultimately, "Mom, I'm really nervous. I don't want to have swim lessons." This is coming from the kid that at the age of 2 was jumping into the deep end and swimming about 5 feet toward us!

Well, the day arrived. The teacher was impressed with how well the girls got along together, and she was encouraged by their abilities. Zoë left and was proud of herself that she was the best at jumping into the pool. "I was i-larious!" she exclaimed as we left the pool. I thought the other two girls were "i-larious" with how they avoided jumping- they'd drop one leg in at a time, or slip from the edge; just about anything to avoid making a splashing jump into the water.

Zoë, A and L after their first swimming lesson.

The next lesson, all three girls had goggles. Both of Zoë's friends put them on and had no problem wearing them. It took a lot of encouragement, a lot of adjustments, and not a few threats to get Zoë to wear her goggles. I wanted her to do something, so while holding Miranda in my lap at the edge of the pool, and watching Megan running over to the deep end to dangle her legs and run back, I had Zoë start to blow bubbles in the water, then put her face in the water and count to 2, to 5, etc. Then I had her put her face in the water to find the rocks. By the end of an hour, she was holding her breath 10 seconds- long enough to pick up 7 or 8 rocks from off the steps. She even, while holding my hand, picked up a rock from the bottom of the shallow end of the pool. The next lesson, she gained more confidence in "diving". However, she still was almost panic-stricken when it came to... dah-dun-dun, THE DEEP END.

Friday last week the teacher was talking to me about it at the beginning of the lesson. "I don't know how much to push her" she said. I replied "Push her hard!"

Zoë put up the biggest stink about taking her training wheels off. Near panic, tears, crying, clinging, loud protests that she didn't want to do it lasted until she was on her own- about 2 weeks with four 30-minute sessions. However, once she got going, and especially after she learned how to stop and start without falling over, I can't keep her off her bike! (I'll have to post some videos of her).

I know I have patience. I know I have some empathy, but I also get exasperated when I know my child can do something and she won't. I guess that's where I become rather hard-nosed and stubborn, and maybe seem cruel. Or, maybe I just know my child enough to know when she needs to be pushed out of her comfort zone. My sister in law also expressed this dilemma with swim competitions and her son- who is similar in age to Zoë. At any rate, I guess pushing was the right thing and at the right time on Friday.

I was so focused during the Friday lesson on helping A and L jump into the water (A hates getting her face wet and both girls are still doing the "hop" or "slip" into the water). I didn't realize that the teacher had Zoë in the deep end swimming with the noodle until after she came back to me! She even jumped into the deep end onto the noodle! The best confidence booster for her was that she was able to go from holding my hand, to me holding her long braid, to no holding at all while she would swim to the bottom of the shallow end and pick up the diving stick. Even better, on her own, she started "swimming" short stretches in the shallow end! YEA!!! All Zoë talks about now is how she gets to be the teacher's helper and show her friends how to put their faces in the water and "swim".

Now, I just have to get Megan and Miranda swimming. Megan has a healthy concern for the water. Miranda wants to dive head-first into it!