Out of the Mouth of Lola

NEWSFLASH.....

All pirates are Canadian, so says Lola. I asked her where she heard this and she said she read it in the newspaper!

She's also convinced Gibson is either Chinese or a "Mexico" baby? She has this fascination with Mexico and Hawaii lately. "Why do you think Gibson is Chinese," I asked. "Because he eats noodles and fortune cookies." Oh, OK? Gibson has never had a fortune cookie and dislikes the texture of spaghetti.

She also gave me the run down on how prison works. "You do something bad and you get locked up. Then you have to wait, just be patient and the judge comes to your cage and lets you out." It seems a friend of Lola's in daycare has a Daddy who is in jail. Very matter of fact Lola shrugged and said, "You just have to wait your time out."

Sunshine On My Shoulder Makes Me Cry

What an amazing, gorgeous day today is! Gibby and I walked downtown to check out the new coffee place and Raven Used Books. We walked over to the Greenfield Energy Park to soak up some rays. Gibson had a great time climbing in, out and over the wooden stationary train.

Gaggles of people were out. Business men in suits leaving the courthouse, people dropping off mail, cafes opening up, shopkeepers Windexing their front windows, two women conversing in sign language sitting in front of Siren Cafe; sipping coffee. There are two guys who sit out in front of Greenfields Market and ask for change. Today's special at La Petite Cafe, turkey club with lettuce, tomato, Swiss cheese and cranberry relish. New construction at The Puskin building caused pedestrian backup on the sidewalk, as did a young woman wearing teeny tiny shorts with cowboy boots. Women with their yoga mats and eco friendly water bottles were coming out of the studio, stepping into the bright sun and the chorus of steady beeping of the garbage trucks.

I watched Gibby play and wave occasionally at me, peeking through the wooden windows of the train. Every so often he would make sure I was still there. I was thinking how lucky I am, how today is this glorious day, a gift. I worried it would all too soon end. I worried there may not be a tomorrow. I began to worry for the safety of my children. I worried the earth or the sun, or some planet would stop spinning on its axis and this monstrous orb would fall flaming from the sky. Sometimes the day is just too perfect and I wonder what will happen next?

A Day Without Spongebob

For once it's relatively peaceful at 6 PM on Madison Circle. Usually it's a bedlam of Spongebob Squarepants, noisy toys, and Lola and Gibby competing for air time! There's a flurry of after school snacks, drawing paper, crayons, kicked off sandy shoes and who said something nasty to someone else or what was gross for lunch. "What's that gooey brown stuff they give you on a bun?" I have to say her menu at school is impressive, from chicken teriyaki, stuffed shells, sloppy joes, and assorted fresh veggies and fruits. Healthy snacks twice a day? Not a bad deal.

There were no cartoons today after school. Lola hit Gibby in the face because Gibby was after her toothbrush this morning. I heard him cry and saw him rubbing his cheek. We do not under ANY circumstance tolerate hitting! I told Lola to apologize to Gibson and no cartoons when she was home from school. "Mommy do you still love me?" "Yes, I do, but I'm very sad that you hit Gibby when you should have used your words and taken your toothbrush back."

As soon as we were home she asked for a piece of her Easter candy. The next request, cartoons. "Mom said no because you hit Gibby this morning. This is your consequence for hitting." I was impressed and surprised there was no gnashing and wailing. She and Gibby took their baths then played downstairs with books. I turned on the radio and we had a dance party. Lola taught me a new dance called "The Wedding." You hold each other very close and stiff like it's your first school dance and you're scared shit less. She's growing up way too fast!

Mother DOM DOM DOM DOM DOM!!!!!!!!!

Last night Sean and I were brainstorming various ways to regain some parental control over Lola. Maybe we never really had any? She's always "ruled the roost" as Sean likes to say. During our meeting with her teacher and pricipal yesterday Sean was relaying our parenting skills, or I felt, lack of! I was cringing as Sean said we (ME!) placate her, try to reason with her, and give her far too many choices

"She's always bored and wanting things to do! She snacks all the time! It's a snack train at our house!" "We give her (ME!) too many choices at dinner time!" We (ME!) try to reason to her and explain our actions!" I felt any minute Social Services was going to trample the door down and take me away for overindulgence of a 4 year old!

I was on the offensive last night hashing it over with him. Throw me a bone at least would you! I get it though. Maybe it is because he's not at home and parenting 24/7 that he sees our interactions differently. I'm in the thick of it, in the trenches, eating, breathing, sleeping all that is motherdom! It's not criticism it's "maybe try it this way." I'm open to it, believe me! We are fantastic at co parenting. Fantastic in the way we do listen and respect each other's opinions and want the best for our kids, while keeping our sanity.

I parent based on what I know and equally what I DON'T know. For me, parenting is this complicated mess of memories from your own childhood and how you feel you did or didn't get what you needed. I think parents of this generation in our 40s have so many resources now and intellectualize our pasts and mistakes we feel were wrought against us as kids. It might be a bold proclamation to say our generation is taking parenting more seriously, more cerebral.

It's a slippery slope. I find I'm explaining to Lola why I'm taking a certain action when she's done something she knows she should not have done. She's almost 5 but still a child. I have to set boundaries and reinforce them. Lately I say "because I'm the mommy and this is my job!" I need to take my own advice.

Fine! Wear Your Pajamas to School!

Sean and I met this morning with Lola's teacher and principal to discuss her behavior lately. She has always been an extremely tactile child and very aware of how textures feel against her skin.

Last winter it was the battle of the snow pants and equally menacing snow boots. They either were too small, too big, too squishy or just plain "bunchy!" Her unwillingness to get dressed for outside snow play was disruptive to her friends and taxing on the teachers. New snow pants and boots seemed to eventually placate her and she would eagerly tell me she had no fits and wore her snow pants and had fun outside in the snow!

New season, new challenges. She loathes getting dressed in the mornings lately. I've tried almost everything but promise her a pony if she'll just put her @#*&! pants on! If it's not a "stomach ache" it's her underwear are too big or too small. Her leggings are either too tight at the ankle or too "bunchy!" I've tried having her choose her clothes the night before to avoid these morning meltdowns to no avail.

Neither of us want to start our mornings this way. Sadly it clouds her entire day and she continues to be melancholy when I pick her up at the end of the day. Her teachers are amazing and recognize how it effects her. This is why we had our meeting this morning.

We agree she is incredibly smart and verbal and reaches a maximum boil over level comparable to the Manoloah! How did this child become so stressed and riddled with anxiety? Damn genetics and how she is uniquely wired I suppose. This incredibly animated, verbose, artistically inclined child becomes crippled with worries. Lately she asks, if she's done something verboten, "Mom, do you still love me?"

We agreed she should see someone who deals with children and anxiety and help us with coping skills and effective boundaries. I blew over $20 purchasing books on Amazon which I'm sure will contradict each other. I bought such titles as "How to talk to your kid, so your kid can talk" and "Setting Boundaries for Easily Frustrated Children." I also Googled "Escape to the South of France for under $200." Amazon didn't seem to have that book!

As I'm blogging about this, I received a call from the school's behaviorist. She recommended someone who she feels has a better grip on these types of childhood behaviors. I can't help but feel somewhat guilty in all of these. Not the best emotional reaction from me, I know. Somewhere deep inside of me, I parent a certain way to compensate for things I feel I may not have gotten as a kid. It can be a vicious cycle. Then little labels pop into my head like "challenging" child or "difficult" or better yet "defiant." I know none of these all encompass or begin to even describe Lola, but the drama lobe of my brain just goes there. Huh, the apple doesn't fall far from the banana tree.

Like all parents, I want the sparring and morning battles to stop. I know it could be far WORSE! It's a bit of a relief that I feel I need a new bag of tricks to help her navigate. It's also a relief that I have a husband who is just as concerned and an equal in the parenting department.

I'm lucky she is happy, creative, theatrical and sharp as a tack even if she is a tad manipulative! I'll schedule an appointment and read my books and hold off on buying that pony.....for now.

Just a few things that burn my toast!

Enough of Tiger Woods and his Mea Culpa!!!!! The guy is a rat bastard who repeatedly cheated on his wife. The many bimbos along the way are equally greasy for telling their stories and letting the world in on their steamy texts!!!!

The Jessie James/Sandra Bullock saga...If I see another photo of the tattoo tramp I will throw my computer out the sun room window!

Why can't people walk their grocery carts back to the stalls conveniently located all over the parking lots? Must they leave them in the parking spaces? Is America that lazy or inconsiderate? Open up your recently purchased bag of Doritos and walk the cart back where it belongs!

Cashiers that don't look up at your or acknowledge you. They mumble and thrust the receipt at you. How about a friendly hello. Worse yet, they ramble to their bagger/coworker about what they did the night before or how they're pissed they have to work Saturday!

People that toss cigarette butts our their car window.

People that let their dogs ride in the back of pickups.

People that don't buckle their kids safely!

OK, I could go on and on about cruelty to children and the lack of compassion locally and globally. I could rant about racial and religious intolerance. I could rant about lack of respect. I could also get off my ass and join a cause to support these rights.

On the more humorous side...Lola asked the other day for a piece of bread and asked "could a have a little toast on it?"

What Does She See?

I registered Lola for the big K a few days ago!!!! She is super excited to attend "big kid" classes. Her school (if I chose this one) is a five minute walk from our home.

Flushed with excitement and nervousness, we stormed through the front doors. The building had that paper, pencil, Pine Sol, institution odor about it. We registered in the library and copies of her birth certificate and immunization records were made. We passed by the gym and cafeteria looking for the Kindergarten classes.

Lola was running ahead of me pointing to all the student artwork on the walls. "I draw better than that!" Gibson was leaving a trail of pretzels falling from the stroller, marking our way to this higher education adventure.

We entered the first classroom. I had to abandon the stroller at the bottom of the steps and carried Gibson. There were several small tables set up with crayons, paper, puzzles. The room was open and sunny with waist high artwork and education posters tacked about the room. Bright cubbies held children's belongings. Further down the hall, windows overlooked the playground.

We met the first teacher Mrs. Bell. I recognized her from my church. Introductions were made and Lola was asked to make herself a name tag. Mrs. Bell noticed Gibby desperately squirming to get down and investigate. "And who is this?" I picked up a hint of iciness in her tone. "This is my baby Gibson" Lola proudly said. Mrs. Bell didn't ask in that "he's so cute I want to dunk him in my coffee" kind of way. Uh, was she irritated? I reserved my judgement to see what would happen next. "Do you mind if I put him down? There aren't any ramps or access for a stroller." Much too quickly she said it would not be a good idea and he might make a mess in the room and then "every parent would want to let their kids roam around." Wasn't that the point of this open house? The postcard I received in the mail said children and families welcome to pre register??!!!

With a dismissive turn she told her assistant to set Lola up with a project. OK, I thought, let's try this again. I asked how large her classes were what the kids were learning about. She was sitting near her desk and waved her hand over to another table. "There's a photo album and a book we put together about Chinese New Year." She genuinely seemed disinterested and was not making eye contact with me. With the photo album in my hand and Gibson in the other arm I asked if her classes were ethnically diverse. Not looking at me and with her hands on her lap, shrugged "I have no control over that." Without missing a beat I retorted "Of course, if that were the case I would ask you to tell me today's winning lottery numbers!"

By this point my blood was boiling and Gibson and I had had enough! Lola was coloring a picture and I said we had to go. Other parents had filtered into the room and Mrs. Bell was handing out name tags to be filled in. Among the chaos we slipped out. I could hear parents asking questions and children's voices from the hallway. We found the second class and tentatively walked in.

"We have a Lola, I've never had a Lola in my class before!" Lola looked down at her name tag and beamed at Mrs. Isles. "Welcome come on in, I see you already made your name tag." Mrs. Isles was enthused and eager to know us. I asked if I could let Gibson down and she held her arms out to him. He happily went to her and she set him up with crayons and paper at a little work table. She asked Lola where she attended pre school and what her interests were. She explained what her kids were working on and showed me a daily schedule they followed. She told me I could schedule a time to sit in on her class and observe or have open play with her students so Lola and even Gibson could join in for half an hour.

Later that evening I told Sean about our day. I mulled over my exchange with Mrs. Bell for a few days. I am not one to pull the race card. Fortunately, I've had positive exchanges in my community as a multi racial family. My town is not an ethnic hot spot but there is a percentage of African American families and Latino families. I did have one nasty comment from a woman in the grocery store, who asked if I was "babysitting" that little boy.

I phoned the school Principal and relayed my experience. Only later in my telling did I reveal Gibson's race. She listened and apologized and said somehow she would see to it that Lola would not end up in Mrs. Bell's class. Her professionalism and consideration was well appreciated.

Did Mrs. Bell discriminate against us, against Gibson, and ultimately against Lola? Was she just having a bad day? Were we the target of a frustrated teacher on her way to retirement? I think I will give her a second chance. I will schedule open play for Lola and Gibson in her class and see what happens.