Eamon Turns Two and is Pretty Much a Boy

The day after tomorrow, my son will turn 2. Without question, he brought something into my life that was absolutely missing prior to his birth. He really has been a lot of fun to raise and I am just as smitten with him as he is with me. That baby knew who his mama was immediately and has been so attached from the start. He prefers his mama; his daddy is a close second. He is a charmer and a Romeo and I am still surprised when he busts his moves out and uses them on ladies at the doctor's office or the mall. Those dimples and curls are difficult to ignore.

Often, you will hear parents say that their son is "all boy." I would say my son is "pretty much a boy." You will not find my son paying any attention to sports on TV or out in the yard playing with a ball or a car. I mean, you might; it would just be rare. He's more of your "into everything" kind of boy. He is interested in how things work. He likes to play with doors and locks and loves to push buttons. He can climb any structure in our home. I guess that in these respects, he is "all boy." However, the dynamic of having 2 older sisters and a mom who stays at home have most certainly taken their toll on my poor son. We have no doubt robbed him of some masculinity with all of the pink objects and make believe princess stories. We certainly have not discouraged boy-type enterprises. We have trucks and cars and balls. Regardless, it seems like my son would choose a dance party over a choo-choo train; trying on shoes over a pretend sword fight.

Recently, I have noticed that my son is quite the caretaker when it comes to his sisters. He absolutely adores Sawyer. That is not to say that he doesn't fancy Madeline as well. He does. He just prefers Sawyer. They spend all day together and I am beginning to notice that Sawyer is clearly calling all of the shots. In the past week, I have seen my poor son scoot Sawyer in at the table on at least 10 occasions. He will get her a drink of water on command. He brings her blankie (dee-dee) to her when she is upset. He sits by her as she cries. He puts his arm around her to comfort her. He finds her her shoes when it is time to leave the house. He is, without a doubt her personal servant. Yesterday when she spilled yogurt, he got up to get her a towel. I let Sawyer know that encouraging Eamon to wait on her would be frowned upon. She cleaned up her own mess. Shortly thereafter, she spilled her water and ice. He cleaned up all of the pieces of ice and wiped up the water. Seriously.

On another note, my son has a bit of a shoe issue. In the last couple of weeks, when I tell him to get his shoes on- he puts Cinderella dress up high heels on. And walks to the bus stop. In a very stable fashion. With the proudest of looks on his face. It is hysterical. Of course, I have no problem with my son exploring the various sides of his personality but, just as it is not acceptable to wear dress up shoes to the mall for my daughters- it is not acceptable for my son. And he is quite angry about these types of restrictions. He doesn't care what clothes he wears. He just wants his high heels. They are blue, by the way.

As I think about this tender-hearted little boy, I have to wonder about the dynamics of our family. I'm sure that having 2 older sisters has an effect on a little boy. Then I start to wonder about DNA. My husband is also a bit of a tender heart. He cried at Patch Adams. The story is infamous among his dental school buddies. Then I wonder how much his behavior toward his sisters models Jason's behavior toward me. Today, a friend who is a nanny down the street brought her young charge to a play date at our house. She commented on how attached Eamon is to me and how he appears to be "the sensitive type." I am always surprised to find that my son is the sensitive one. This is not to say that the girls are not sensitive. They are sensitive little drama queens in every way. But Eamon is sensitive and caring. With this degree of sensitivity, I predict that some day Eamon will make a great husband and friend. Heaven knows that he is already a doting brother and more endearing a son than I could have ever imagined.

Sawyer Turns 4 (and is a ton of fun)

Yesterday, Sawyer turned 4. I wasn't sure this day would arrive. I have threatened, more times than I can count to return her to the hospital she came from. To trade her in for a less exhausting model. I think this frequent comment is the reason that Madeline is so adept at recognizing sarcasm. Originally, she would cry when I would say such things. Now she understands that sometimes Sawyer can be, um...spirited and we giggle about "returning" her.

Sawyer has not been our easiest child. Let's be honest. She has been for the majority of her time on the planet- our difficult child. She started crying when she exited the womb and did not stop. FOR 6 MONTHS. She had colic and reflux and a generally irritable disposition. At 6 months, she grew out of colic and spent the next 6 months being a good baby before she started the "terrible 12 months." Then she had the "terrible 18 months", followed by the "terrible two's" and the "terrible two and a half's". And then the "terrible 3's." You get the picture. Sawyer is spirited. She requires a different set of parenting strategies and a more hands-on approach. She is not Madeline and that took a while to understand. Nonetheless, for the past several months, Sawyer has been a true delight. She is energetic, imaginative, bright and friendly. She plays well with others. She loves her Mama like crazy and she is just plain fun to be around. She has entered a phase where it has all come together for her. She can express her feelings and even deal with her emotions on a level that I did not think possible. She can relate to kids younger and older than herself. She can charm the pants off people. She has charisma. It just took a while for her (and her parents) to figure out where and how she could flourish.

Having said all of this, I want to take some responsibility for Sawyer's spiritedness. I think Jason and I have just gotten to the point where we really understand what Sawyer needs. She has taught us to slow down, listen up and actively participate. She is in no way a black and white kid. She is all shades of gray. Parenting Sawyer has taken me to places, both good and bad that I did not know existed. Luckily, I feel like I have come out the other side with a better understanding of Sawyer and of myself. She is a fascinating little girl and I am so lucky to have had the chance to be her Mama.

Recently at a friend's house, we met a family who we had not come into contact with previously. This lovely friend has a pool and our kids were swimming together. The mother in this previously unknown family commented about Sawyer, saying, "She's a go getter. I bet there's never a dull moment." This woman pegged my little girl. Her next remark was, "It will be interesting to see who she becomes." I agree. I'm watching. I can't wait. I love you so much Sawyer. You have truly made my life a better, stronger place to be and I am so grateful for your presence.

Transitions

I am watching it happen. Summer is ending. Both girls have gone back to school and I have been given the gift of 3 afternoons per week to complete all of the glamorous tasks that I am called to do. But before I start bragging about organizing closets and sweeping out the garage, I want to take a moment to write about how difficult it must be to transition from summer back into being a student (or mom with a schedule to keep).

I would like for my kids to just go back to school and resign themselves to the fact that they are expected to take responsibility for various things, behave like decent members of society and make me proud while they are not in my presence. However, since my kids are human, they are having a bit of a struggle getting used to their new routines. I am trying to be understanding where this transition is concerned. Consider for a moment going back to school from a child's perspective: You have been having the time of your life for the past 3 months, living in a neighborhood PACKED with kids your age. You have been on vacation, had family visits, stayed up late, ate s'mores at bonfires and reveled in the love of those close to you. You have been swimming, have had fireworks shows and lit sparklers, been to the zoo, to a water park and have had too many playdates to count. AND THEN BOOM!!! You wake up one morning (much earlier than has been expected for the past several months) and you are expected to get on a bus and work all day, often in a room full of people that you don't know, with a teacher who seems to expect ALOT out of you. When you finally arrive home from school, you are expected to do homework (what?), practice piano (or whatever extracurricular said child is involved it), shower/bathe, clean your room and read. All before 8 or 8:30 when you have to go to bed. Not much of your day includes fun. It cannot be easy to go from almost non-stop fun to responsibility. Especially when you're 7. Or 4. Or 35.

Along with my children, I am watching the sun set on our summer with a sad, yet full heart. I can see my back yard changing back from a magical forest into y dry grass and trees- leaves dangling and ready to fall. I can see the drum and guitar fashioned from household castoffs, yet perfect for Madeline's "band", turning back into an old oatmeal canister and shoebox. I look outside in the evening and instead of being greeted with soaking wet children screaming in delight, it is silent on Gala Drive. It is almost safe to put the beach towels and goggles away until the special occasion to swim presents itself in the coming, colder months.

I'm not sure who is grieving the most over the loss of summer. However much I appreciate time to attend to long overdue household tasks, I am constantly reminded that my kids are not "all mine" anymore. I have to share them with teachers and friends. It will not be long before my children are grown up and I do not have them to dote on and enjoy during those warm summer months. We will all transition to this new routine in time. We will all be patient and eventually we'll get used to this new school year where we all have a new set of roles and responsibilities. The good news is that at the end of the responsibility and routine lies another summer on Gala Dr. And for that- I am grateful.

Madeline Turns 7

Last weekend, on the hottest day of the year, in the midst of a "paint your own pottery" party my oldest daughter turned 7. Two days later, she started 2nd grade. I'm not sure how this all transpired- the past 7 years, I mean. Nonetheless, my darling, dainty little angel is now an "edgy" 7-year old who no longer claims pink OR purple as her favorite colors. She prefers blue. She now wants to play the guitar and refuses to carry her old book bag because it has "princess" written on it. The past year in her life has been full of bumps and bruises. *Growing pains, if you will.

I have a type-A child. I know that she inherits much of this from her father who used his right-brained-ness to get to where he is today without killing any patients under anesthesia. I know that he has mild OCD when I see him obsess over the best way to smoke a chicken in the Weber or stain a deck. These types of projects apparently require hours of research. What surprises me is how much my daughter is like me. I'm the type-A one. I was just in disguise for a long time. When I see my (now) 7-year old worry about thunderstorms and possible job loss and attempt to control everything in her environment, it is like looking in a mirror. She is her mother's child. That being said, It has gotten to a point in parenting my children where I am no longer directing and redirecting. I am no longer providing just behavior management, stimulation, nourishment and love. I must now provide counsel to my daughter as she navigates the murky waters of school, friendships and the future. I have opened a dialogue with my 7-year old about things that were never discussed with me as a child. Maybe because it was the 80's and parenting was different, maybe because my mom worked 14 hours a day and had little energy for such things, maybe because I was a therapist in a past life (like 4 years ago). Regardless of the reasoning, it has come to my attention that Madeline will need my counsel. Maybe because she is type-A and has a tendency to worry. Maybe because I expect so much of her. Maybe because I am making up for the counsel that I was due. It makes no difference. I look forward to the conversations. I love to talk. Here are some topics we have an open dialogue about at this time:

1. What jobs pay a decent and real living wage. (seriously?)
2. Menstrual cycles. (Yep.)
3. How to stand up for yourself in the face of bullying. (*see above note about growing pains)
4. How babies get into a woman's body. (THE TRUTH)
5. Responsibility and organization. (organization is not a natural instinct for either parent)
6. Christianity and other religions. (Yikes!)

Geez...what will we be discussing when she's 13? Most importantly, Happy Birthday Madeline! I could not be any more proud of you. You are truly beautiful, intelligent and kind. I'm not sure what I did to make you choose me as your mommy, but I am so glad you did.

Eamon- Menace To West Lafayette

Tonight, I will write about Eamon. For the past two years, he has been the apple of my eye. His blonde curls, dimples and fat cheeks have a way of charming me that my girls have not yet mastered. By the time that I arrived home from the hospital with Eamon, I realized that he was a dream baby. He has been the easiest of our children BY FAR. With Eamon, everything has been black and white. No surprises, no guessing, no shades of gray. Maybe it was the fact that he was our third child. Maybe we just had experience and relaxation on our sides. Having Eamon has truly been a pleasure and a delight.

Until now. This little boy is a menace. He is into everything. He climbs everything. He attracts dirt and grime like sailors to a port on leave. I am so thankful that he is not twins. Recently, I have seen some things happen in my home that I did not think possible. My darling son, who pushes a chair around the house looking for the next climbable object has used his chair to climb onto the stovetop to push the microwave buttons. He has used his trusty chair to begin his ascent to the top of my pantry; using the shelves as though they were rungs on a ladder. He has accessed my countertops and had a knife, straight from the butcher block in his hand. Like Houdini, he is able to perform feats that are not feasible for normal people. In a matter of seconds he was able to grab a squeeze bottle of green food coloring from the counter and turn himself into a green-spotted monster and my floor into a disaster-complete with green grout between the tiles. He often performs these tricks right before the eyes of myself and his father. I swear to you that we supervise our children. He is a one-man wrecking crew. All of the boxes in my pantry look disastrous. They are all raggedy and torn open in some wretched way by this nearly two-year old menace to West Lafayette.

I now have the 4 bar stools I bought for my very tall kitchen counter in my basement. This is because Eamon used his trusted friend, the table chair to climb onto the bar stool and then onto the "tall counter" (approximately 40 inches) so that he could exclaim "ta-da!" This little Houdini, although he can barely talk using recognizable language, can create and execute a plan better than some adults. He is sneaky. I have more than once found him on the front porch....alone. My neighbor saw him walk down our front stairs (only 3) and into the grass in the front yard and promptly returned him to my care. We now need locks at the top of each and every door to the outside as well as the pantry. During the day, I lock all the doors upstairs. Previous to this standard procedure, I found him in my bathroom, as happy as humanly possible in a sea of (unused) tampons and Q-tips. The joy on his face was unmistakable. He had found his own personal heaven. I'm sure there is no rush quite like getting toiletries out of drawers and off of high shelves and having the freedom (because mom is cleaning up a previously created mess in another room) to throw them and bask in the rain of that unnecessary mess (that your mom will clean up 90% of). Yes folks, Eamon is most definitely terrible 2. He is his own little man with a plan. Mama's baby is growing up.

Still, those moments are still there. When he comes out of the bath and snuggles close to me; warm and cozy in my arms. When I read to him and he sips from his Elmo cup and lays in my arms. When he pats my back or bats his huge eyelashes at me. When he hugs me and rests his head on my shoulder. When he puckers up for a kiss. Of course, now I have to make sure that none of these moments are just a trick so that he can bite me or steal my wallet.

On Food

I often tease that when I was a kid, we used to eat dirt and sticks for most of our meals. I say this because we did not have a large supply of junk food at my house. I'm pretty sure the sources of our healthy eating were varied. I think my Mom's focus on healthy options for her kids was a backlash from being raised on junk food and burnt TV dinners. My Dad's input was from his interest in an overall healthy lifestyle, based on theories and practices in the east. My Dad has been a vegan since I was a child. Anyway, we ate together each and every night. We had a salad with almost every meal. My Mom cut up radishes on a daily basis to include them in our salads...who does that? We did not have junk food for snacks. When I was in middle school, my Mom started to regularly buy Teddy Grahams and pretzels. This was a huge deal. This is not to say that we did not enjoy treats from time to time. We drank Kool-Aid and ate ice cream. Nonetheless, we ate healthily.

As time went on, I definitely got away from these types of eating patterns. I'm not sure if it was college, a lack of time or a lack of creativity that led me to start eating like total crap. I do know that I continued eating processed and packaged foods until relatively recently. Don't get me wrong, I tried to encourage healthy eating in our home. I bought all kinds of produce. A lot of which went down the garbage disposal in favor of the likes of Pop Tarts and other pre-packaged goodness. I remember "cooking" dinner for Jason, Madda and I before Sawyer was born. I "cooked" chicken nuggets and french fries. We may have added baby carrots to the menu. Yuk. At this point, I don't even buy any of those things. Several months ago, one of Sawyer's friends was over and asked me if she could have some Trix. I told her I didn't have any and she responded by letting me know that I had them the last time that she visited. I had fed she and my daughter Trix as a snack. For me, this was a failure. I had become the mom who has junk food. I kind of wonder if that little girl was hoping for some grape pop to go with her Trix. Although I had started my rampage of improving our eating habits before this interaction, it brought back some images of some of the crap I have put into my body. Into my body- both pregnant and not. Confession: when I was pregnant with Sawyer, I think I ate dry Fruit Loops out of a cup for breakfast on most days. Often, I would wash them down with a package of un-toasted Pop Tarts. Certainly not the breakfast of champions for babies in utero. I am ashamed to admit that one Thanksgiving when Madeline was very ill with the flu, I purchased an all-in-one turkey casserole deal. The turkey came in a can and you mixed all the "ingredients" together for "Classic Turkey Dinner." Seriously. Poor Jason almost vomited on himself after taking one fateful bite. I think his nausea was followed by the shedding of a single tear. Over the loss of a real turkey dinner.

I really regret some of the things I have let my children consume. They are more than familiar with Pop Tarts, soda, chocolate milk, Fruity Pebbles, Cocoa Puffs, TV dinners and candy of all sorts. They have never, ever tasted broccoli, brussel sprouts or lima beans. Neither of my girls drink milk. They don't like orange juice. They refuse to eat oatmeal. The foods that they agree to eat are so few that I struggle to find things to offer them. They eat more yogurt (Yoplait- also known as sugar with calcium) than I can hardly believe- simply because it is one of the only things they enjoy that contains necessary nutrients. I have created these monsters because of my own inability to let them go hungry. I have been too busy, frustrated or tired to have the fight over food. However, that fight has begun. Additionally, our kids do not do a very effective job of sitting at the table and eating. This is likely because I am a short order cook who allows them to eat the food of their choice at an earlier time than their father and I eat a "real dinner." Often, they do not have their parents eating with them and therefore are not properly socialized/instructed on family meals.

I may be a bit dramatic in my confessions of the diets I have allowed for my kids. They do eat a lot of produce and I have cleared the pantry of most things processed and junky. I have even converted my junk food junkie, super sweet tooth, DENTIST of a husband to some eating habits that I would not have even hoped for 5 years ago. I attribute a lot of this turnaround to the book, "In Defense of Food" by Michael Pollan. It is an eye-opening read and really had a tremendous impact on me. Of course, other healthier choices in my life- emotionally, socially and physically have played their respective parts in my new-found love of healthy living. If you haven't read it, I encourage you to check out "In Defense of Food." You can say you read about it here first.

Summer....Summer.....Summer

Ah, summer. I have been looking forward to the days of summer since the constant snowfall of February. I envisioned myself as super-mom; taking the kids swimming, adventuring, on rides on the local trolley. Hikes in the (sort of ) woods followed by lovely picnics. Well, the metaphorical "long, lazy" days of summer are no such thing. Maybe it's the fact that air conditioning in almost every venue allows us to move just as quickly, despite the heat. Maybe it's the fact that I signed my kids up for every camp and lesson that I could find on the internet. Maybe it's the fact that we have already left town for two separate "vacations." Maybe it's just the fact that I have chosen to have three children and as I have previously mentioned, three feels like six. I can't imagine what six feels like.

This summer has been very eventful. A night at Great Wolf Lodge (a shameless plug for the place where my family gets along best), several nights at my brother's house in Minnesota, more than a week en route to and in South Carolina. Two zoo camps, one princess dance camp, 2 cheer leading camps. Currently we are in the midst of two consecutive weeks of swimming lessons. Two more zoo camps are to follow. Piano and voice lessons have been a weekly event through all this madness. After each darling daughter finishes with one more round of zoo camp, we will be all set to start our summer vacation. Unfortunately, summer will be over and Madeline will be heading to second grade and Sawyer to her second of three years of preschool (which are preceded by two years of Mommy and Me class). Do I sound as though I over schedule my kids? It sounds like it to me. Yep, I'm that mom.

I would like to think that we could stay at home every day, enjoying each others' company and smiling as we work our way through puzzles, games and crafts. It just doesn't work that way. My kids can't agree on an activity. They are too divided by their ages and abilities (6, 3, 1) to work together for any significant length of time. They have different needs and interests. They need to be stimulated in different ways. Hence all the lessons and running around.

Of course, summer is complicated not only by being rushed and accountable for being places on time. Summer is also complicated by developmental road bumps and behavioral snags in the life of a child. Madeline, who is normally the easiest of my children has hit one of the previously mentioned road bumps. Because Sawyer has learned some effective ways to manage her emotions, Madeline has stepped up as the next contestant on "I Need Constant Attention." The poor kid has been struggling with some anxiety. And when I say anxiety, I mean outright FEAR and PANIC in the face of thunder storms. And they happen alot. Especially on the beach in South Carolina. And in Indiana. And everywhere else. But not when there is a blue sky. And she is even scared of them then. I have done my best to avoid my own panic attacks over the situation; I have a significant history of engaging in unfounded worry. I have tried to let her have her process of growth. I have tried to be there for her. I have attempted to coach her through her fears. (I was a therapist, for heaven's sake.) Nonetheless, I will not stand for worries when they migrate to a place called manipulation, and I refuse to allow her to be consumed by her fears. She must face them. She is required to learn coping skills. And she is. I can see the light(ening hee-hee) at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Girlfriend is up to the challenge of facing her fears. Yesterday, she got dressed in a suit of all denim (not sure why the jean jacket was necessary) and headed outside to face her sworn enemy: THE THUNDERSTORM. She concluded that thunder storms are actually quite interesting, and after a few tears, proceeded with her day. We are one step closer.

To wrap it up, no matter what season or phase I look forward to-for the reprieve that it will bring, there is no such thing. Each and every season and phase will be filled with complications. Some of the time, I create my own complications through over scheduling or being unable to find it within myself to say no. Other times, the complications come, regardless of my best efforts and intentions. I am learning to just accept and even expect them to be there. Smooth sailing is just not an option for me. I am beginning to understand that this is a fact. Nonetheless, I accept the challenge of what is to come.