Parenting Archives - and then they...

Playgroup Pumpkin Patch 2016

Posted by Carolyn on October 24, 2016 Leave a Comment

This was our 5th Annual Playgroup Pumpkin Patch trip!

Oh my, how we’ve grown!

This year we were back at Northern Lights Christmas Tree Farm, but it didn’t feel the same. For one thing, they more than doubled their prices, so we ended up not doing the hayride at all. We were lucky with a warm, non-rainy day. It was also Henry’s birthday, so we all dressed up and had cupcakes. It was fun, despite the fact that we didn’t get to do the hayride.

I have already gone on and on about how much I love these people. Let me just say that I’m so incredibly happy to have them as my tribe and how happy I am to have my girls grow up with these fantastic kids.

Save

Dear Harriet, Age Three

Posted by Carolyn on August 29, 2016 2 Comments

Dear Harriet, My Three Year Old,

Man, has this been a year? You started school, you really started talking, you grew and changed and became a little girl. You have figured out how to fight back – fight back against Alma when she tries to get too older sibling on you, fight back against us when we tell you that you can’t have hot cococo all day everyday, you fight back against injustices on the playground. People always tell me they’re impressed with your fortitude. You don’t let people push you around. You are strong and brave, little one.

You are scrappy, and I love that about you. We are both second-borns, so you and I, kid, understand what it’s like to live that way. We understand that sometimes it’s important to bug your older sibling until they fight back, then to go running to your parent so the sibling gets in trouble. But, kid, you need to understand that I see right through it when you do it. I see right through it, but I still love it because I get you. I feel you. All I have to say about it is: sorry Alma (and sorry Dan).

But you are also very dear. One of the things you say all the time these days is, “Excuse me mommy (or Grams, daddy, Papa, Nana, Grandpa, Grammy… whomever). I wuv you.” It’s always a surprise because I always assume that you’re going to be asking for more hot cococo, then you turn everything upside-down with your sweetness. You can tell me that you wuv me all day everyday, that’s fine with me.

When you’re into something, you’ll spend so much time with it. When we went camping, you were all about building the fairy village. At the playground with your friends, you’ve been known to build very cool towers out of pine cones and sticks, or to fill up a hollow tree with rotten apples (side-note: rotten apples are your favorite things. When we tell you to think of something happy, you think about rotten apples) – all the while directing your friends and making sure they’re doing it right. You’re a leader and creative and I think that’s really cool.

Here’s my promise to you this year: I will cherish you. I will be gentle with you. I will be kind to you. I will love you and I will tell you so everyday. I will hold you. I will let you grow. I will laugh with you. I will cry with you. I will cherish you.

All my love,

Mommy

Parenting is Not for the Faint of Heart

Posted by Carolyn on August 4, 2016 3 Comments

There is nothing worse than seeing your child’s blood on the outside of their body. If there is one truth about blood, it’s that it belongs on the inside. But, sometimes thing happen that destroy that truth.

This weekend, while camping, it was a rock that destroyed that truth. A small rock in the middle of a path, directly in front of another rock that stuck out of the ground just far enough to trip my oldest daughter.

All the kids were running laps on a path that was alongside our campsite. They ran and ran and ran. Then one of them fell and they all stopped. I don’t remember getting to Alma, but I do remember the blood. It was already pouring down her sobbing face. I scooped her up, said, “JESSE.” and don’t remember getting down to our picnic table.

I do remember exactly what went through my head:

Don’t overreact.
Where is a hospital?
Head wounds bleed a lot. It’s not necessarily a big deal.
Don’t overreact.
Head wounds bleed a lot. It’s not necessarily a big deal.
Head wounds bleed a lot. It’s not necessarily a big deal.
Head wounds bleed a lot. It’s not necessarily a big deal.
Head wounds bleed a lot. It’s not necessarily a big deal.
Don’t overreact.

Everyone rushed to help. Devon got the ice. Heather got the band-aids and wipes. Jesse, somehow, miraculously had a pocket full of paper towels. Antonio and Drew got the lollipop. Harriet got Sarah Bear.

Thankfully the bleeding stopped pretty quickly, and we were able to see that it was more of a puncture wound than a cut. It clearly didn’t need stitches, though, in my opinion, it looked crazy how deep the wound went.

I also remember exactly the things that Alma said as I held her in my arms, bleeding:

We never should have come camping!
I don’t want a lollipop!
My sister is the best sister in the whole world.
I want to go see where I fell.

The rest of the evening was spent sitting in laps and getting extra cuddles. I watched Alma carefully for signs of concussion, even though I had no idea what the signs of concussion were. I only cried once, and not where Alma could see me.

We stayed two more nights and Alma bounced right back. The bump has gone down and the cut is healing nicely. The only wound that remains is the piece of my heart that broke along with the skin on Alma’s forehead. But that’s the thing about parenting, and that certainly won’t be the last bit of my heart that will feel my daughters’ pain.

Dear Daddy,

Posted by Carolyn on February 8, 2016 1 Comment

Dear Daddy,

Yesterday was your birthday and I’ve been wanting to tell you something. I write to the girls on their birthdays, but I think it’s important to write to you, too.

I have always admired you, daddy. You always worked hard to give all of us a wonderful life. You worked hard, but you were always home for dinner and present in our lives. On Sunday mornings, I would wait to see you get up, then I’d follow you to the living room so you could read the comics to me. You were always up to play in the backyard, or play a game of Pente. You came to my recitals even when it meant missing a track meet. You taught me how to ride my bike on two wheels.

One of my favorite memories of us is from a bike ride. I can remember exactly where this conversation took place, right around the corner from where I live today. We were riding ‘around the block’ and you told me that you hope I will always call you Daddy. I remember thinking that was absurd that you would even ask. Of course you’ll always be my daddy.

You have another name now. You are also Papa, and I am so glad that my girls get to have a Papa like you. They light up when they see you, and honestly, you light up, too. You are such a great grandfather. You get down to their level to play with them. You spoil them just the right amount. I know that I can count on you to take wonderful care of them.

Happy birthday, Daddy. I hope you know how important you are to me, and how much I love you as my Daddy, and as Alma and Harriet’s Papa.

Love,
Carolyn

When to Apologize?

Posted by Carolyn on January 13, 2016 4 Comments

Apologize: to offer an apology or excuse for some fault, insult, failure, or injury

Lately Alma has been doing something that concerns me. She will say something silly, or do something goofy, and immediately say, “Sorry ’bout dat,” with a shrug and a self-depreciating eye roll. For example, she will pronounce a word wrong, or mix up her words, or stumble a little bit. Something about which she absolutely doesn’t need to feel sorry.

It reminds me of those studies that show that women, in group meetings or classes, will say, “I’m sorry…” then ask their question or make their comment. I’m pretty sure I read about this in Lean In by Sheryl Sandberg, but I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.

It’s a hedge, something we say to fill space or make excuses. How many times have you said your opinion and finished up with, “…but that’s just what I think,” in order to avoid a confrontation. That’s a hedge. So is saying you’re sorry, oftentimes.

And this phenomenon is certainly more common with women than with men. I have been around groups of women who constantly apologize to each other, for every little thing. Even if it’s the other person’s fault. Even if it’s nobody’s fault. How many times have you asked someone who was blocking your way to move by first saying sorry? Why do we apologize to someone who is standing in the doorway, or blocking the thing we need, when it’s obvious that they’re in the wrong?

The act of saying you’re sorry when you’ve done nothing wrong makes us look weak. It is admitting that we have no power in our situation. It is admitting that we feel that what we have to say, or do, is less important than others.

I don’t want my daughters to believe this about themselves. I want them to own their opinions, their actions, and their questions. They are strong, and their voices are important. I want them to know that they can ask their question, or make a correction, or add an opinion without being perceived as aggressive. Moreover, I want them to know that it’s okay to be aggressive. If they make a mistake, they can own it without apologizing, especially if it doesn’t affect anyone else, like when Alma mispronounces a word.

Raising daughters, this goes even further. I don’t want my girls to ever apologize for not wanting to hug or kiss someone. I’ve written before about how I never make them hug or kiss anyone if they don’t want to. I want them to be strong and feel like they don’t ever have to apologize for this. When they’re teenagers and young adults, I want them to be confident that they can turn down sexual advances without an apology. They don’t have to do anything they don’t want to do, and they don’t have to apologize for it.

This all isn’t to say that I never want my kids to apologize. I certainly want them to say they’re sorry when they’ve hurt someone. I’ve started saying, “Only apologize when you’ve done something wrong” whenever Alma does this. I want to break the habit. There is a line in Sarah Kay’s poem “Point B” that says “always apologize when you’ve done something wrong but don’t you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining.” And that’s really it, isn’t it? I just want my girls to shine and not have to apologize about it.

Christmas Tree Hunt Pictorial

Posted by Carolyn on December 2, 2015 Leave a Comment

Thanksgiving in the Mountains

Posted by Carolyn on December 1, 2015 2 Comments

First of all, please excuse how quiet andthenthey has been. I had grand plans to write a few blogs while we were away for Thanksgiving, but I dropped my phone in the toilet right when we got to our house. It spent the whole weekend in a big bowl of rice, and thankfully has made an almost full recovery.

Anyway, we had a wonderful weekend up at Sunriver for Thanksgiving with my Dad and Step-Mom and her brother and family. We went up to the mountains on Wednesday, and drove on packed snow from before Willamette Pass all the way to Sunriver. I’ve never seen that much snow, for so long. Luckily, we got to do the drive during the day, so it was sunny and clear.

We got to the house in time to play in the snow a little bit before dark. Alma loved it and would have stayed outside longer, despite her cold, wet fingers and legs. The promise of the big bathtub was the only thing that could lure her inside.

The next morning, Thanksgiving, we went to visit our great friends, the Gosses, in their new home in Bend. It was another snowy, beautiful drive. It was fun to finally get to see their house, and to get to see them!

The rest of Thanksgiving was spent playing in the snow, cooking dinner, and eating. I made the turkey this year, and everyone added something to the table. It was wonderful.

On Friday we braved the below freezing temperatures and went to the High Desert Museum. I love this place so much. It holds so many memories of my childhood. The otters (who weren’t on display), the indoor scenes of the West, the old settler’s cabin and sawmill. It’s all there, all the same, and all incredible. I loved sharing it with the girls. Plus, it was amazingly beautiful in the snow.

Alma took this photo of me and Jesse.

We went back to the house to watch the Civil War and learn how to knit. Harriet has such a sweet relationship with my dad. He’s certainly one of her favorite people. I’m pretty sure the feeling is mutual.

Then, we tried to go to the tree lighting. It was just too cold, and we left before Santa got there and the lights were turned on. It was still fun, and Alma got to talk to Rudolph and Frosty. Here’s my favorite exchange:

Alma: Rudolph, I saw your friends being mean to you!
Rudolph: *nod*
Alma: Do they let you play with them now?
Rudolph: *nod*

It was sweet to see her so concerned for Rudolph. She has a sweet heart in her, that’s for sure.

A Day In The Life – November 11, 2015

Posted by Carolyn on November 12, 2015 Leave a Comment

8:47 – I want to remember our mornings when we have nowhere to be. We eat breakfast in the sunroom, run to Starbucks (despite their horribly offensive red holiday cups this year… I kid), the girls watch Sofia the First or Daniel Tiger while I sew. We are usually so busy that it’s nice to have a special treat of eating in front of the TV.10:02 – I want to remember this time with Harriet. I totally hate this age when she has so much to say, but she doesn’t have the words to say it. This moment, she had something terrible to tell me about this ball, but I just couldn’t figure out what she was saying. Then she spent my entire shower yelling at me to help her find her backpack (that ended up being on the floor in the hallway…). She is whiny and screechy. I’m not sure why I want to remember all of this, but I get the feeling it will be funny to look back at it all. Right? 10:48 – I want to remember how difficult the girls are in the car these days. They always want what the other one has. You can tell by how firmly Alma is holding Hodor and Bear. Obviously, Harriet was whining and screeching about wanting just those things. Driving is frustrating these days, but maybe in the future, I’ll miss it. Maybe they won’t need me or want anything to do with me or their cute little toys. Maybe…? 10:57 – I want to remember their wonder (and their happiness at being out of the car). Right here Alma said, “I don’t want to smell the flowers because of allergies.” The she smelled the flowers. She doesn’t have allergies, by the way.11:03 – I want to remember all the beauty of Autumn. Snowberries are a favorite, and it was fun to be able to share them with the girls. We also call most wild berries ‘bird berries’ because I want the girls to know not to eat them – they are only good for birds. So far, this has worked to keep them from eating random poison berries. 11:05 – I want to remember how Alma asked literally every person on the sidewalk from our car, past a dorm, to the museum the same question: “Do you go to college?” Everyone chuckled and answered that yes, they were going to college. It was sweet, and I loved it because it’s helping to plant the seed that college is something that she should do. 11:17 – I want to remember these sweet friends. I love that our kids won’t remember a time that these kids weren’t in their lives. Since it was a holiday, a lot of my friends (and their kids) had the day off of work and school, so we made plans to meet at the Museum of Natural and Cultural History. I’d never taken the kids there, so it was especially fun. Not to mention the cool backpacks that each kid got to wear. And the fact that Harriet’s was almost bigger than she is.12:03 – I want to remember how these kids were curious, engaged, interested, and awesome. The museum is set up so well, and our kids did a great job exploring.12:05 – I want to remember how this girl tries (and succeeds) to keep up with the big kids. She’s difficult these days, but watching her learn and grow is a joy, truly. 12:30 – I want to remember how big these kids seem to me. I know I will look back at this day and think that they look so tiny, but right now I want to remember how big they seem.12:32 – I want to remember these friendships. 12:48 – I want to remember how we got lunch at one of the dorms, and ate outside. I’d like to forget how crazy it was trying to wrangle two girls (plus the others), pick out food for us, order it, pay for it, and not lose either kid. But I want to remember how, as we were leaving the food court, Jane said, “And as they leave, they throw condoms to the audience.” I’m sure watching all of us with our kids was enough to inspire abstinence in at least a few of the college students. 1:07 – I want to remember how Harriet pouts. It’s adorable and sad and pathetic. This was a particularly lovely pout. It was actually nice because I knew where she was as I got Alma into her carseat. After this, she didn’t want to get in the car, so I called her bluff and said “Bye!” and got in my seat – she jumped right up with a big smile and got into her carseat with no problem. One point for me! 3:49 – I want to remember how Alma likes to take my camera and take photos. This one worked out because it’s nice to have photos of me in these posts, since I’m the one usually taking the photos. I also want to remember how busy I’ve been getting some Christmas things ready. 4:41 – I want to remember how, whenever Rory comes over, it becomes a dress-up party. They change and play and run and dance.4:45 – I want to remember how Harriet says Sofia: Yii-a. I want to remember how Harriet says unicorn: Coa. I want to remember how Harriet says Alma: Malma. 4:53 – I want to remember Poppy’s sweet red curls and how much Alma loves her. She’s funny and happy. Having friends over is Alma’s favorite thing, and to be honest, we all love it, too. 4:57 – I want to remember these three. Right now they’re the big kids (Poppy will catch up soon) and they are the best. I want to remember the way Harriet still sucks on her fingers and rubs her eyelashes. I want to remember Alma’s dramatic flair (look at those pinkies!). I want to remember how I forgot to take any more photos because we were just having a good time with our friends, getting pizza, eating pizza, talking about god and God, and Heaven and heaven. Sometimes it’s better to just put the camera down and live and remember.

Other Days In The Life:
May 12, 2015
September 9, 2015

I Love Subbing

Posted by Carolyn on November 5, 2015 1 Comment

Truth time. I love subbing. It’s taken me years to realize this, but now I’m ready to publicly admit it.

I have been reluctant to admit it, because somehow it feels like a failure. I didn’t get my masters degree to be a sub. I got it to be a teacher. That was the plan, but it isn’t how it’s worked out. That’s the thing about plans, though, isn’t it?

After Peace Corps, I went back to my job as an assistant teacher for a special needs preschool. We spent the first week of September setting up our classroom, along with all the other teachers in our building. I walked down the hall and was jealous of the ‘real teachers’ setting up their own rooms. I know that I was feeling down about coming home from a grand adventure, and just falling back into the person I was before I left – though I felt different than the person I was before I left. I wasn’t even a lead teacher, I was just back in my role of assistant.

I decided then, and there, that it was time for a real change. I looked into teacher training programs, and found one in Eugene that would start in January. I applied, took some tests, and was in. I knew I was on the right track as soon as I went to the first day of orientation.

After I graduated, I looked for jobs, but couldn’t find one. I became a substitute teacher, but kept looking for a ‘real’ job. I went to graduate school for this. I went to be a teacher. I went to have my own room that I could design, and curriculum that I could create, and students who were ‘mine.’ I felt like a fake, like not a ‘real teacher.’ I felt like people looked at me like I just couldn’t cut it, and that’s why I didn’t have a ‘real job.’

I has been almost five years since graduate school, and I’ve had some long-term jobs, but nothing permanent. For the first four years, this made me feel bad, like I couldn’t cut it. Every summer I would apply for jobs, and go to interviews, but I was never hired. It was a self-esteem killer, I’ll be honest.

This past summer, I decided not to even look at jobs that were posted. I came to a very important conclusion and here’s my public declaration: I really, truly love subbing. I’m not ashamed or embarrassed.

I looked at what I love about teaching and realized that there are three main things – the kids, the curriculum, the learning. I thought about it, and realized that I get all three of those things as a sub. These days, I mostly work at two middle schools.

I know the kids. I have relationships with the kids. In some ways, I can have better relationships with the kids because I’m not the ‘real’ teacher, the one who gives them grades and who has real expectations on them. I’m like the fun aunt who comes to babysit. I’m not saying that I don’t discipline the students – I certainly don’t run a loose classroom (in fact, some students say that the class never works as hard as when I’m there). When I walk through the halls, the kids ask who I’m subbing for and are excited if they’ll have me that day. They tell my I’m the best sub.

Since I’m in these two schools, the teachers know that I can actually teach. They don’t just leave videos or worksheets. They trust me to continue their curriculum, and sometimes, I even get to create my own. I get to lead discussions, and see real learning take place.

While lots of teachers leave grading for me to do, it’s easily completed in my time on the clock. As a sub, I don’t ever have to take work home with me. I leave school when my day is done, and can focus the rest of my day on my family.

I mostly just sub at two middle schools. I get enough work from them. They know me, and I know them. The teachers will set up the jobs days, or weeks in advance (which makes it much easier to find grandparents who can watch my kids while I’m working).

That’s the other thing! I get to spend so much time with my girls. I only work 2-4 days a week, so I still get to be with my kids a lot of the time. I get to take them to school, and pick them up. I also get to choose when I work, so if one of the girls has an appointment or a program at school, I know that I can be there for them.

So, there you have it. I’ve spent four years feeling inferior, but I’m done with that. I’m owning that this is my ‘real job’ and that that’s okay. It’s something I’m good at. It’s something I enjoy. It’s something that gives me time to also enjoy my other ‘real job’ as a mom.

I don’t know what my plan is from here. Maybe I’ll get a ‘real job’ someday, when my kids are older. Maybe the perfect job will come around and I’ll have to jump on it. Maybe I’ll sub forever. Maybe I’ll stop teaching completely and focus on creating for my shop. Who knows? That’s the thing about plans…

d

The Power of Words

Posted by Carolyn on November 4, 2015 1 Comment

Words have power. Written words can be powerful if arranged in the perfect combination. Written words can be powerful if read at an important time.

But, spoken words. Spoken words hold a power that is hardly ever matched. Look at Churchill and how he inspired a damaged and hopeless nation. Look at Lincoln and how he united and freed and led. Look at King and how he changed the world and accomplished something impossible.

I’m watching my two-year-old discover the power of her voice. A couple months ago, she didn’t have any words. Now, if you’re listening, she’s telling you everything on her mind. Everyday she learns new words, and figures out how to pronounce them. There is a power in her words, and she’s just learning how to use it.

I can’t tell you how many times during each day I say, “Use your words.” I’m not only telling my kids to communicate what they need with words, but I’m telling them that their words have power. I’m telling them that their voices have power.

There are some words that hold more power than others. One word I teach my girls to wield and use is this – no. No. When we are playing and they say ‘no,’ or ‘stop,’ I stop. It feels like my girls are too young to even be affected by the rape culture in which we live, but I know that it is irresponsible to just ignore it. I need to teach my girls to honor themselves, and to know their worth.

I teach my girls that they can say ‘no’ to anyone. If I ask for a hug and they don’t want to hug me, they have the power to say ‘no.’ If grandparents are saying goodbye and want a kiss, but they don’t want to, they have the power to say ‘no.’

Sometimes, when we’re out, Alma will scowl at strangers and refuse to talk to them. She won’t give them high fives or say hello. I appreciate this from her, I know that she’s doing what feels right. It feels strange, but I try not to change her in these moments.

“I won’t raise her to be nice, to give her laugh away… I can’t trust this world to teach their sons how to treat my daughter, so I will raise her to be a sword, a spear, a shield.” – Elizabeth Acevedo

I want my daughters to know the reality of their world, and I want them to be prepared for anything. I am teaching them to talk, but I’m also teaching them to use their words. I want them to see the world with wonder and joy, but not naivete.

This is a world where they need to be spears and shields, but it’s also a world “made out of sugar, it can crumble so easily, but don’t be afraid to stick your tongue out and taste it… Always apologize when you’ve done something wrong, but don’t you ever apologize for the way your eyes refuse to stop shining, your voice is small, but don’t ever stop singing. And when they finally hand you heartache, when they slip war and hatred under your door and offer you handouts on street corners of cynicism and defeat, you tell them that they really ought to meet your mother.” (Sarah Kay)

I also want to teach my daughters the power of another word – yes. I want them to go out into the world with hope and excitement. I want them to embrace the world and everything that comes their way. I want them to try and say yes and yes and yes. I want them to see me as who I am – a positive, hopeful woman. I want them to know that their mother isn’t scared to live in this world. I see the wonder in the world every single day.

Sometimes when we’re out, Alma is amazingly outgoing and personable. She will ask strangers if they want to come over to our house. She will hold hands with someone she just met. She will smile and dance and play. I also appreciate this from her. I love her innocence and her belief that the world is good and that people aren’t out to hurt her – I agree with her that this, for the most part, is true.

I want my daughters to trust that this world is good, but to be ready for when it isn’t. And I’m going to show them poems, and teach them words, and tell them to never stop using their words.

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this:

Share this: