A Christmas Miracle

[This is a little late, but it came up recently, so we may as well post it...]


We had a little Christmas miracle this past December. What happened was this: one Wednesday morning when my husband was away (which is a big deal, because Wednesdays are band days for my oldest, which means he has to be at his school at 7:30, and so with my spouse gone this leaves me to get two of the kids on their bus at 7 and have the other four in the car by 7:15) I woke up my 5-yr-old and was getting his groggy little arms into his clothes when he said to me, "Mom, remember, I need to have an ornament today." Not in a worried voice, not in a sheepish Gee-I-forgot voice, but in a low, accusing, this-is-your-problem-woman voice.

The ultimate miracle is, of course, that he lived past that moment and I didn't scream or yell at all.

The next miracle is that for some stupid reason, even with us packing up to move and chucking everything we don't really need around the house, I had saved an egg carton "in case i decide to make something with the kids." AND while Christmas shopping I'd grabbed a spool of red ribbon for no specific reason, just felt like it might come in handy. AND somehow the other kids were getting dressed and fed on time and the baby stayed asleep. AND I was able to find scissors. These are all mini-miracles in and of themselves, trust me, but to all occur on the same morning when the need was so great is amazing. So, with desperate inspiration driving me, in about five minutes I had cut out a couple sections of the egg carton, wrapped foil over them, strung them on some ribbon, and handed them off to my child, who did not seem the least bit impressed or appreciative of how hard it is to come up with a tree ornament on no warning at 6:20am as he got on his bus. I put jackets over the youngest kids' pajamas, got the two big kids packed up, even got the dogs some food before we headed out the door, still on time. i even had time to stop my oldest and say, "I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For not being pre-broken in for you. Where i would have completely lost it and yelled and hollered at you for forgetting to tell me about something you needed for school until the morning it was due, I can manage to be so much calmer for your little siblings. So I'm sorry I'm not pre-broken in, but on behalf of your siblings I thank you for the suffering and mistakes you have already and will yet endure in order to create for them a better mother."
"Uh, oh. OK. SHouldn't we get going now? Is that cereal bar for me?"
Six kids, one mom, two dogs, and a Christmas tree all dressed and content before 7:30am, and to band on time. What more could one want?

"You sound so sane!"

Sometimes I get comments along the lines of "How do you do it? I can barely handle TWO!" The short answer I like to give to "How do you do it?" is simply, "Poorly." My three year old is lucky if he's had a book read to him for each year of his life so far, and my youngest thinks books are teething toys. Most don't believe me when i give that answer, or at least can't admit they believe me and still be polite. But here's the thing for those who "only" have two...

Remember that four of mine are in school. Now, back when I had Bot (#4) in May and Liam was still not going to kindergarten till September, well, though at the time I didn't think it was all that big a deal now I would happily accept any sympathy thrown my way for that period of life. I am well-seasoned, so at 8:15 every morning I suddenly have just two kids and it feels like nothing. I turn on PBS for the 3-yr-old and plop the baby with a biter biscuit in the high chair and read something over a cup of tea. When they all come home, it's crazy, but I've had all day to get ready for it, and though any of the kids can drive me up a wall and none are perfect, I can call on my 11 and 7-yr-olds, and even my autistic 9-yr-old, to go get something I need or give something to some younger child or even empty the garbage. Yes, I have more kids, but the older ones keep getting older and I have this past year come to realize that I truly can put them to work. I'm hoping the word "indentured servant" doesn't pop up in social studies for a while.

I was frazzled with two, through having three...Well, and four, those early days with four were horrible if I look back objectively. When I say that I remember being exhausted and stressed when i had only two, I'm not politely throwing a bone to those with fewer kids, I'm totally serious. Two is HARD. Everything you're doing with the first you're doing for the first time, and with a young child which involves more of our energy--think of the difference between dropping off a 5th-grader at school on the first day ("Bye, Mom!" "Bye, Kid!"), and having to take a 3-yr-old in to preschool for the first time ever--figuring out how to get out of the house on time, take off and put on coats, shoes, help to carry everything, have to hold their hands or carry them, dealing with truly irrational brains, separation anxiety, potty stuff...So there is getting broken in to everything for the first, plus taking along a baby everywhere while doing it. We had one car then, plus i knew almost no one in the area, and no help or sitter--so more often than not I felt like leaving the house was not worth the effort! (I still would rather not leave home most of the time, but I've gotten pretty good at it and I have indentured servants now.)

So, by now, I have three times the kids, but I'm quite broken in, my husband is broken in and his housetraining is proceeding nicely, the older kids are even more helpful, and the younger ones are definitely more easily self-occupied than the older ones were as babies and toddlers--there's just more going on, more to watch and they are used to going with the flow.

Oh, and dinner? Lame. My husband has told me to make my peace with that, that there's nothing wrong with some form of meat plus a bit of salad taken from a bag and thrown on their plates or a few carrots. And it does make things easier and me calmer. I don't think I've cooked a real major sit-down proper hot-entree-with-hot-sides dinner, whatever that means, more than once a month since i got pregnant with Dunc.

As for the "You sound so sane!" line of coments, well, I only sound sane to people who aren't my husband or offspring. I keep telling people that someday my oldest is going to write his memoirs and tell the world how NOT-together and impatient and insane I actually was as a mom, and people think I'm joking, but trust me, I'm not! So if i hang around other moms, I can maintain sanity while they're there. You should come on over, then, and help keep me on my best behavior by joining our chaos!

Sue F :)

The Value of a Good Watch

On a list somewhere, there was some talk about transitions and giving kids warnings befor they had to stop and activity or go home or inside, and I remembered The Watch--now that I think of it, I can't believe I don't have it anymore, though it may explain why things are not always as smooth or protest-free as it was when the older ones were young and we lived by those little beeps...

I used to have this cheap Casio watch--every year or two I'd lose it and would just go and plunk down my $20 for a new one just like it. It was waterproof so I almost never took it off AND it had a count-down function--you just pressed the little button for it to go off in 1, 3, 5, 10, 15, 20, or 30 minutes and it would beepbeepbeepbeep...My first two kids learned to live by that watch. I'd just tell them they had X more minutes and then when Mommy's watch went off it was time to (leave, go inside, go to bed, etc). I was merciless in sticking to it with my first (in large part because I was pregnant with my second so soon and had nightmares about what I was in for if he didn't learn I meant what i said) and so this was how we lived--by the beeping of my watch. I used it everywhere. In fact, at some point three yards' worth of kids learned that we ALL went in to our respective houses when Sue's Watch Went Off. Sue's Watch Went Off was sometimes the phrase that had four or five toddler/preschoolers crying and wailing as three mom's dragged them inside, but since all of us were in it together and the watch kept us honest (though I did learn to muffle the watch in my pocket and set it for more time if we wanted to keep talking another minute or three) we carried through and the kids really learned that Sue's Watch Went Off was a fact of life.

Now that I think about it, I need to get another one of those watches--this could explain why life seems harder with the current 5 and 3-yr-olds. They have never lived by the watch, and have gotten away with a lot due to failure to follow through as well. I also do think that by age 4-5 some kids know that Mom may not want to take a hard line in front of other parents and teachers--ever look around at the end of preschool and see a whole bunch of moms talking in overly-sweet, cajoling voices with smiles over clenched teeth, trying to persuade their children to come along nicely, to quietly bribe with snacks or treats or threaten with naps or time outs when they get home, while the kids dawdle, ignore, talk back, or simply refuse and tantrum? And those sweet, tense voices continue, making comments to the air about how Child must be tired or hungry for the benefit of those around, uncertain as to whether they should drag the child out or act firm in case they end up in a public battle with their child and appear not in control and also self-conscious about appearing too tolerant of defiant behavior and not in control but embarrassed regardless at being in public with an uncooperative child in front of other moms and the teacher? Once in a while when doing this myself as I try to discretely wrestle my loudly protesting child into his/her coat and leave with dignity that I simply do not have, I've wanted to shout to my fellow victims: "OK, ON THREE WE ALL PICK THEM UP TOGETHER AND RUN OUT OF HERE AND PROMISE NOT TO LOOK AT EACH OTHER! ONE, TWO, THREE!!!"

One of those days...

Another mom described a day of defiant and uncooperative behavior on the part of her child and her own displays of frustration, which led to the little one packing up his blanket and pillow and declaring that he was leaving--which of course made the poor woman feel like a bad mom.

I think she's a good mom. A great one, in fact. Why? Because when he packed up his blanket and pillow, she almost cried. Me, I would've said, "Good thought, because I'm not sure I want people who act like this living in my house. Who do you think WOULD want to listen to this so much they'd have you live with them?!?!" Then I would have called my husband on his cell and ranted about how HIS child is acting up and doing everything possible to push my buttons and actually has the nerve to imply I'm not hospitable enough for him because he succeeded in pushing my buttons, and then I probably would have put the cat outside just because I couldn't deal with one more critter and the cat at least can be left outside without legal proceedings resulting and I can convince myself life is easier because I put her out, and then I would find chocolate. OK, I would like to say I would THINK it and not say it to my child, but...

Don't worry, fellow moms of uncooperative children, I've had whole weeks of uncooperative, defiant child behavior and the corresponding maternal embarassments and downfalls--once I not only had my child dragging on the floor and screaming as I tried to take him out of preschool, I had a baby in the other arm and the Election Day Bake sale was going on with a few dozen people looking on (and I'd even let him pick out cookies to buy, it's not like I wasn't nice to him!), and then the preschool director actually helped both validate me and get me and my loud kid out the door by simply lifting my child up under his armpits and carrying him along with me to plop him on the path outside, saying, "No, we leave when Mom wants us to leave" and then disappearing back inside. I don't know which of us was more shocked or embarrassed.

Despite some great bursts of angry volume, especially when Dad's away, the kids claim they still believe I love them even if I yell, and even better, the older ones have actually come to acknowledge on occasion that though my apology for yelling is appropriate (and accepted) their own behavior was in fact out of line and a major contributing factor to my losing the temper that I'm supposed to try not to lose, and the apologies end up being mutual. Yes, we should try to be as perfect as possible, but the fact is we're human. Humans are affected by other humans' behavior, and awful as we feel loss of temper is in fact a possible effect our kids' behavior can have on people. I like to think that along with accumulating plenty of guilt I've also helped the older ones learn that their behavior affects others by starting my losses of temper at an early age--similar to starting a foreign language at a young age, perhaps, only with shame and guilt as added benefits. ;)

More importantly, these spurts of everything's-a-battle DO pass. Sometimes, like the day after an endlessly defiant day, we might even look at things and realize there is a reason for the child's behavior we didn't see before and do the whole empathy, psychology, work-it-out, maternal thing, and sometimes we never find a reason and have to get through the phase one deep breath or one loud scream (or a varying pattern made up of the two) at a time.

I do HIGHLY recommend email to keep your sanity, and even better, ranting at your husband. I find ranting while he's still away best--he's away and might feel guilty enough to let it roll off his back, and then it's over with and you can fully enjoy the relief of his homecoming!

Payback is...

[While talking about engagements, someone commented about how far ahead people are getting engaged.]

I agree--Jake proposed to me just before i graduated and just before he went off to Hawaii for the beginning of a two-year stint there. He already knew he'd be there for a couple months, then in Maryland for training from mid-summer till November, so after November he'd be in Hawaii for good. So the second he proposed we both knew we were aiming for an October wedding. When I informed my mom on May 11 that we wanted to get married in October, her response was "OCTOBER?!?!?!" Needless to say i was not encouraged by her reaction. But after she got off the phone with me she turned in exasperation to my father to ask how I could do this to them, there is no way to plan a wedding by October. My dad simply looked down at his paper and asked, "When did I propose to you?"

"May--why?"

"And when did we get married?" Their anniversary is October 24.

"Oh."

"She's just doing to you what you did to your mother."

Sleep training

So, in an effort to help a tired mom (me) trying to get lunches and school clothes done for the morning by helping a loudly reluctant Duncan get to sleep, instead of checking a diaper (which was quite poopy, and eventually changed by said tired mom) Jake valiantly tried to teach by example. Naturally, when Dunc didn't catch on, the cat and dog tried to help. Duncan found this quite amusing and stopped crying, though he did not sleep, and from where he's now playing on the floor at my feet he's urging me to send this out before Dad wakes up and stops me. Since i had to step over and around and almost on Jake and the dog to get the picture to begin with and then retrieve the poopy baby, I don't think I'm at risk for a speedy discovery by either of them.

Dugans, you're receiving email [from which this post was derived] from me, possibly for the first time, thanks to your annual newsletter, which never fails to amuse and impress. Thanks to all of you that actually tell us in writing each year what you're up to, I might even be inspired some year to write something of my own for mailing just to remind people that we exist and are the reason every other kid all your grandkids go to school with will be named Freivald, though I'm taking baby steps--this year we actually got simple cards, which are almost set to mail and thus should be going out sometime around, oh, Easter-ish. (I have postal issues.)

Happy New Year!

Sue :)

P.S. Before any of you know-it-alls (Steve) suggest that I darken the room when I put Dunc down to sleep, I'd like to remind you that photography usually works better with light and therefore my smart little camera used its flash. No sleeping Freivalds of any species were harmed or disturbed by this procedure.