What's a Mom Blogger to Do?

I've been finding it really hard to blog lately.

Partly it's because my free-time has shrunk to nothing ever since I picked up a part-time job a few weeks ago.

And partly it's because I've lost my voice.

They say blogging is easiest when you clearly know for whom you are writing.  Who is your "audience"?

I've always assumed it was my close friends, but now I'm aware that Judah may one day stumble upon these pages.  And that thought fills me with terror.

And shuts my virtual mouth.

On the inside, Judah is exactly like me.  I know his every thought before he speaks it.  I understand his every eyebrow raise and nose wrinkle.  I have a Vulcan mind meld with my inner mini-me.  Words are entirely unnecessary.

And I know what he would think as he reads these entries. (And being already 7, he can actually read them all).

He would ignore all the references to love and joy, and dwell only in the dark places.  He would feel betrayed that I shared his thoughts (however slight and trivial) with others without his permission.  He may never forgive me.

So what's a mom blogger to do?

Damn myself further with another privacy-violating entry?

Take down this blog and make sure it never again sees the light of day?

Share only things that would be unobjectionable?

But then I couldn't share my favorite things - like how 2 days ago I caught Judah standing in front of the bathroom mirror, with only his undies on, flexing and posing.  How I reminded him, "brush your teeth! It's time for bed."  And how, without a moment's hesitation or thought, in all seriousness, he replied "but I'm practicing my ninja poses and counting my abs."

He can't wait to achieve the "six pack."

My big kid - the end of a blog era!

***p.s. With great resignation and reluctance, I took down the perfect picture of the kids posing in their undies and replaced it with the totally non-embarrassing and inoffensive picture above.  Because Judah.  (And child porn web crawlers.)

Everything, EVERYTHING and not everything

This Summer has flown by! And no blog entries reflect all the STUFF that's happened.

So, in an effort to download my memory banks (because in 10 years I'm going to wonder...what did we do the Summer of 2017?), here goes...

For about 6 weeks this Summer I was plagued by a virus from hell. It manifested in the weirdest ways - ways in which I didn't know my body was capable of dysfunctioning.

No sore throat, no runny nose (well, very minimal snotting) - those are the usual suspects. Instead I had pink-eye. I've never had pink-eye in my ENTIRE life. It was very weird.

And I coughed a lot. Especially at night. For almost 2 weeks I spent EACH and EVERY night coughing my lungs out for about 3-4 hours. Sweating from the effort, sucking hard on Ricola, and pleading to God for mercy. I know things are really bad when I literally pray - God help me. Please God help me. Please, please, please. Have mercy on me, a sinner.

The weird thing was, I was fine all day, but then at night - the horrible coughing marathon.

So after a lot of Googling and consulting doctor friends, my best guess was I had a viral infection that caused a lot of post-nasal drip which is accentuated and greatly exacerbated when you lie down. And so for weeks I slept propped up on two pillows, as if one were to fall asleep sitting on the couch.

So six weeks is a long time to feel crappy. And during that time a lot of other stuff happened.

For one, I crashed our family car. Again.

I was stopped at a red light; there were 2 cars in front of me. The light turned green and we all started to roll forward slowly. Two seconds in, I thought it was a good time to look down for a box of tissues and then BOOM!

The first car slammed on his breaks completely, which caused the 2nd car to slam on his breaks completely, which caused me, the downward-gazing driver to slam into the 2nd car.

I was going maybe 5 mph? If that.

The car I hit had a small dent in his back bumper.

My car, however, feigned like an NBA pro, crumpling completely.

Sigh, another one bites the dust.

Things I felt in the immediate aftermath - horror, shame, disgust (at myself), sad, sad, very, very sad.

And also during my 6 week viral illness, Judah had one of the toughest days of his short life.

We noticed one of his bottom teeth was growing in but his baby teeth were not wiggling enough. It slowly dawned on the Spouse and I that Judah would need to get his baby teeth extracted. ASAP.

The day of the scheduled extraction I went to pick up Judah from Summer Camp and saw a giant circle bruise right in between his eyes. Apparently he had been hit by a baseball (which he called the "moneyball" because it's the pitch that's supposed to be the hardest and fastest) which a strong 9 year old batted in the direction of his face.

Moneyball indeed.

Judah was in a lot of pain and moaned about having a headache, which means he's really hurt because this guy doesn't complain about physical pain, ever.

And now he was getting his teeth pulled, but he didn't know it because the Spouse and I decided it was best to not tell him! Why worry him needlessly with anticipation? We merely told Judah the dentist was going to "look at" his teeth.

The moment he received the bad news while reclining on the padded dentist chair was one I'll recall for a long time. Judah, I'm so sorry but the dentist said he has to take out BOTH your bottom two teeth. (An x-ray revealed that the other adult teeth was just days away from making it's debut as well).

His eyes opened wide with fear, filled with tears, shock, betrayal, worry.

I wondered how this would end.

But my brave, accommodating, good boy was true to his brave, accommodating, good nature, and despite his intense fear, laid still and let the dentist give him two numbing shots with a giant needle and yank out both his teeth.

Two hours and 8 extremely bloody gauzes (and a good dose of ibuprofen) later, he was smiling again.

Judah - Minus two teeth; Plus one swollen bruise

There's nothing quite like your baby losing his baby teeth that makes you feel like he's not a baby anymore.

Another milestone. Another passage. Another clear marker that...that...there's life and growth and change...and very real loss.

Sweet and Surly

Last week we went to a book fair and the kids instantly picked out what they wanted with zero hesitation.

Judah asked for a book that came with a pink bunny charm bracelet. (And cited the bunny charm as the main reason he wanted this book).

And Noah enthusiastically grabbed a book about villains that looks down right satanic. Seriously, every picture in this book looks like pure evil.

And that is now how I explain to people, in under 30 seconds, how different my kids are from each other.

Story of My Life

I got the sweetest kid-made gifts for Mother's Day, but this "story" written by Judah was by far the most amusing. The kid gets an A+ for getting right to the point!

The Wonderful Mom

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful young lady named Christina. A couple years later, she met a handsome man named Michael Chung. After they dated, they...

...got married. Then after some years they had a baby. Christina did all the work. When she had another baby, she did the same. The End.

Pretty darn accurate, I'd say - especially about the childcare work distribution!

Spring Has Sprung - Again!

I realize every year I have one blog post in the middle of April that acknowledges the coming of another Spring. So here it is.

For me, the main signs of Spring are the stuff my kids produce at school.

Noah's awesome preschool (that I love times a million) made this helpful display to announce the season. Big props to a pre-K for making me literally laugh out loud (LLOL, yes, I'm still trying to make it a 'thing') with the craft of Noah's face as a boy fairy. Kill me now. Just kill me with cuteness.

And, as if that wasn't awesome enough, his preschool has little Spring animals. They had catepillars in a cup (which turned into butterflies) and these sweet little baby chicks.

Y'all, I held a baby chick two weeks ago. My first time ever. Life just never stops getting better. Remember that young people. Life just keeps getting better. Because baby animals.

Judah's school kindly reminds me of Spring every year with his Spring portrait. And also reminds me how cheap I am as I take another picture of picture.

But man, I almost caved this year. Looking at this sweet face of the boy I love so so so much. How could I resist?!?! The marketing print even asked me - "How can you resist this smile?" I can't! I can't!

I was *this* close. I'm pretty sure next year I'm going to cave.

Spring is an amazing time to do our nature walks. This picture was taken when Judah and I explored a brand new trail just minutes from our house on one of our "just us" dates. I'll never forget how bursting at the seams happy Judah was during this walk.

He was literally bounding up and down the trails like a puppy wagging his tail. Talking happy nonsense, bouncing, smiling, filled with sweetness. And all around us, the vibrant green of new life shouting 'joy!' in living color.

I need to make that experience into a candle somehow...

Easter weekend was insanely busy but awesome. One highlight was the kids earning their first stripe on their jiu-jitsu belts. The ceremony consisted of them sitting for 90 minutes, completely still and quiet while each kid was called up for a promotion.

I am still AMAZED that my 4 year old did that. There is some magical obedience voodoo going on here. I must investigate further and figure out how to harness that to my advantage.

On Easter Sunday the kids took an obligatory picture and then quickly lapsed back into their "normal" weird looking selves.

And as if getting a bunch of goodies and candies from Easter wasn't good enough, we topped of the day with a fabulous birthday party by a mom who went all out with the incredibly cute and well-designed decorations. Pinterest needs to hire this mom, seriously.

There is nothing easy about motherhood. Nothing. BUT, it does absolutely keep getting better.

And sweeter.

Don't Bump the Glump and Other Tales

The days keep rolling by like someone flipping an old-fashioned animation sketchbook - fast and then faster.

And I now have a bunch of photos of the kids and memories that need memorializing. So here goes...

During the insanely frequent rainy days this Winter (seriously California hasn't had this much rain for my entire lifetime of living here!) the kids often made their own indoor fun. One of their favorite pastimes by far was and still is using giant shipping boxes to create nooks.

I love this picture because it reminds me how excited Judah was to draw different scenes for Noah's box nook. One of them was of a zombie graveyard and the other of an underwater world.

Judah is never happier than when he's doing something creative for Noah. His joy is the joy he anticipates Noah will feel. It is pretty much the highlight of motherhood...until, that is, Noah looks at Judah's handiwork and responds with a tepid "meh".

Then Judah's feelings get hurt and crying and gnashing of teeth begins.

This is another creation of Judah's. Noah is "Wolfman" because he loves wolves, because he loves Wolverine (because there is no reason as we have NEVER bought any wolverine toys or watched any wolverine shows, so this kid is a real mystery to me).

Judah drew a head band, chest symbol, and utility belt, and on the back of the cape is another giant wolf symbol. Noah was only mildly appreciative, but still put it on for good sport. Phew.

Since the rain was so frequent, I tried frantically to get outdoors with the kids whenever there was a tiny break in the downpour. March marks the time of year I get panicked about my long lazy winter of eating lots of carbs and LOTS of butter and moving very little.

Thankfully boys are like dogs, you HAVE to take them outside every day or else they will chew up all your furniture and pee all over the floor.

Judah has fully graduated to the "big kid" bike. He never had training wheels as we started him out on a balance bike when he was 3. Noah on the other hand has no idea how to balance and he's already 4.

Like many siblings, the first one gets gold-star treatment and the second (or third or fourth...) gets shafted. Sorry Noah, maybe you'll figure out how to ride a bike by the time you're 10.

The boys have been doing Jiu-Jitsu since January. This is literally an answered prayer for Judah who has been begging me (and God) to give him martial arts lessons for the last two years.

I just never wanted to sit around with my fussy second kid while waiting for the first kid's lesson to end. Now that they're both old enough to participate together, I'm all in.

Judah is LOVING it. This kid loves to compete and is focused like a laser on everything the coach says.

Noah on the other hand, simply endures and is only doing this cuz he hero-worships Judah. Every time class is about to end, Noah skips to the end-line and sings "Yay! This is my favorite part! Class is over!"

Noah continues to be my wonderful weirdo. He is constantly changing outfits throughout the day for no particular reason. Here he's wearing his favorite things - his favorite hat, his favorite cardigan, and shorts - he loves shorts.

Once, last month, he went to church in a full ninja Halloween costume (2 sizes too small from Old Navy). He had normal clothes underneath. It was...a battle I was just too tired to fight. Ninja: 1, me: 0.

Kids are awesome because they make you do constructive things you might have otherwise given up on. Noah wanted desperately to grow some veggies in our garden, but I had given up.

Two years ago, I tried but badly hurt my foot with the shovel. One year ago, I tried again, but broke my arm in early Spring and couldn't shovel.

This year, I just didn't try...even though deep down I wished I would. Enter: Noah and his motivating enthusiasm for growing veggies, thanks to his awesome preschool.

On a whim and a random Saturday, we went to a hardware store and bought a cucumber plant, a tomato plant, a watermelon plant, and some strawberry plants. And thus came into being our humble patch:

Within a week, the watermelon plant was completely devoured by a stray cat.

We'll see if any of this comes into fruition (hahaha, see what I did there?). I have a notorious history of killing plants of all kinds - indoors, outdoors, succulents, flowers, sigh.

Just call me Mrs. Blackthumb.

Dear Santa

This note cracks me up on so many levels.

First, the grammar and spelling errors. Laundry is spelled "lojry" and Judah likes to invert his b's and d's so he asked for a "rodot" hahahahaha.

Also, what the heck is going on with the first letter of your last name? Lower case AND inverted.

I love how at the end of the letter, he tells Santa to "chos onw" - a very humble request to 'choose one' toy since asking for more than one is clearly too bold.

It also cracks me up how he claims to help me with laundry. That kid has folded maybe 3 hand towels in his ENTIRE life and sorted 6 socks into the right pile - 6 individual socks, mind you, not pairs. If this puts you on the "good" list, then I'm set for life after just a single day of housework.

Lastly, it's funny to me that Judah wrote this all while not believing in Santa. Since he was about 2, he asked if Santa was real and we just didn't have the heart to lie to him in the name of fun. So he wrote this for me. Knowing that I know how little laundry he actually does. Bold.

Oh my dear child. Your entire Christmas experience is unmerited grace, however blind you are to it. Indeed, your whole life. Indeed, mine.

Life, hurtling toward the end

Every year around this time I realize I've entered the outer limits of a vortex of crazy.

With Thanksgiving right around the corner (shockingly near actually), I start to panic about the 2.5 weeks of vacation my kids will both be having from school over Christmas. WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO?! I'M SO SCREWED!

And then there's all the end of year stuff that needs to get done - gift buying, party attending, party planning and throwing, decorating, Christmas card sending, calendar making, etc. etc. etc.

Actually, the panic starts to set in around Halloween, which came and went so quickly I forgot to blog about it.

So from here until 2017, I'm pretty sure every post will just be like this - photo dump with longish captions!

(1) Noah in front of his preschool. This school has saved my life. So much better than the nightmare place he was at last year (that changed his teacher FOUR TIMES in the course of 9 months).

(2) Oh how I love when my kids bring home holiday-themed art and crafts. Except for that ugly troll mask Noah insisted I put up along with the other tasteful items. I really can't be blamed for any decor decisions whilst having kids.

(3) The witch, black panther, and Chris Kratt turned into a cheetah with creature power. I know, nobody who didn't have boys ages 4-7 understood what their costumes were.

(4) On our way to Judah's school Halloween festival. It was a loooooong-weekend of candy/cavities!

(5) Randomly, Judah pet this homeless man's bunny at the food kitchen, touched his eyes, and freaked out when his eyes swelled shut to the size of golf balls. Wow, crazy allergic reaction. That was a first.

(6) Most of our weekends look like this: errands and the kids hanging out. I call this composition: Trader Bros. They always wait for me like this while I get rung up. Every so often, this is where I realize I forgot my wallet at home and curse the heavens. Mom brain.

They're really into drawing and coloring lately and as always, play really well together. They have moments of squabbling of course, but by in large, they entertain each other (and leave me blessedly alone).

During this particular art session, I overheard Judah saying to himself, a la Bob Ross (my favorite TV show personality and person to which my kids have been subjected to for hours and hours), Now I'm going to put a happy little mountain here...

And I thought, it just doesn't get any better than this.

Our First Date

A few weeks ago I had a mild panic attack as I considered how long it had been since I actually had some quality one-on-one time with Judah. A year ago? Over a year ago? Basically ever since Noah stopped napping.

At this rate, my panicked head calculated, he will become a teenager before I've had the chance to develop strong relational bonds with him, and then he'll prefer the company of his peers over mine, and I'll lose whatever influence I could've ever hoped to have had over him, and he'll fall down a pit of depression and addiction and/or video gaming and drugs! AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!

So after I got my heart rate back down to normal, I told the Spouse I wanted to institute special one-on-one times with the kids. We'll each take a kid once a week or so and hang out with them for about 2 hours. No chores. No errands. Just being together.

And so that's just what we did.

We told the kids about the upcoming "dates" and Judah especially was happily anticipating it. Just to see him looking forward to it so much made me feel already that (a) this was a good thing to do and (b) long over due.  Noah was like, meh, whatever.

Judah looks so happy to not have Noah around, ha!

I decided to take Judah hiking since he loves nature and becomes much more unguarded in the woods. We talked about school and he told me how everything was going well except that it was hard for him to find play mates during recess.

He asked why nobody wanted to play with him. Why some kids were popular but he was not. He shared how bad he feels when everyone walks back to class in groups of twos and threes while he faces the long walk of shame alone.

Once he asked his classmates to wait for him so that he could go back and get his water bottle but no one waited. He described that incident with a rhetorical flourish I will always remember with pride - Mommy, today, I felt like dust. Dust!

Great simile son!

I asked Judah what things I could do to make him feel more loved. He seems so different from my familiar toddler/preschooler who loved huggle snuggles and asked incessantly for me to play with him. He asks for so little now, I don't really know what he needs anymore.

But much to my surprise he replied, Hugs and kisses!

Well, I guess somethings don't change all that quickly. I guess what I interpreted as a diminished need for physical affection was really just a big kid feeling like his mom was too busy to sit and hug for awhile. Which wouldn't be wrong. But should be fixed.

After our walk, I let him chose where to eat and he predictably chose his favorite "restaurant" - Starbucks, and ordered his favorite "meal" - cream cheese and bagel and a chocolate croissant. Our kids are on the opposite of the low-carb diet, obviously.

The entire time, he was aglow in a way that I haven't seen for a long time. He was happy. Really, really happy. Beaming, actually.

And even after our date, the after-glow continued for several days. He was much more affectionate than usual and called me his "date-buddy" frequently. It's a little weird, but also very sweet.

I was surprised when sometime in the middle of our date, he did something he hadn't done for over a year--stooped down to pick a flower for me.

I thought we were done with that phase. The phase where he showers me with love scribbles and flowering weeds and loves me to the moon and back and needs lots of assurance that I feel the same way.

But no, we're not. And I'm so glad for it...and to have found that out before it was too late.

The Six Year Old Version

Judah recently turned the big SIX and I'm still reeling at the thought.

Almost every day concludes with me staring at this tall lanky boy and wondering - did I ever cradle you in my arms? (yes) Were you ever ridiculously chubby? (yes) How can you be such a fully formed human being when for so long you were just a sweet little blob?

As a baby and toddler Judah was incredibly demanding, constantly talking, wanting to be interacted with, eschewing all toys for PEOPLE. REAL PEOPLE ONLY! Okay, actually, it was more like MOMMY. MOMMY ONLY. ALL THE TIME.

I used to despair that I would ever get more than 10 seconds of breathing space from him. No seriously, I often Googled "emotionally needy child" in search of relief.

And now. Now, he is my flexible, easy-going, mellow, compassionate, eager to please guy who is happy to spend long hours doing his own thing. I don't even know this guy. Seriously, some aliens came in the night and replaced him.

So here he is at Six!

See the resemblance? The night you turned six, in the blink of an eye.

At the beginning of his 5th year Judah was sure he wanted to be a ninja assassin and therefore would not get married as to not risk leaving his poor wife bereaved, you know, an assassin being such a dangerous line of work.

Judah and sweet friends at his much belated party

And then, all of a sudden, in the middle of his 5th year, Judah declared he was going to be a home-stay dad (he means stay-at-home dad), a throw-back to his aspirations from his 4 year old self. Just like that, he wanted a life of domesticity and care-taking.

And then, just a few weeks ago, Judah announced that his one goal in life was to be a jungle survivalist. He wants to learn how to live by himself in the wild - hunt, build fires, make camp, forage for food, etc. I have to say, this last career change has really caught me by surprise.

And I'm a little sad that he so badly seeks isolation. So I asked if I could accompany him on his jungle adventures and he said, yes. But only me.

And then I remembered how I wanted to be a cowgirl and live 3 hours away from civilization on a remote homestead in which I grew my own food and raised and butchered my own livestock and suddenly, Judah's aspirations aren't seeming so weird to me anymore.

Noah takes out all his jealous rage on Judah's pinata - he still claims it was his "worsest" day ever.

It makes even more sense when I realize that Judah, like me, is extremely sensitive to other people's feelings. Judah will often do things that he doesn't innately want to because he's worried the other person will be mad at him. He is a classic people-pleaser and will avoid conflict at all cost.

This makes it extremely easy for Judah to make friends and get along with pretty much anyone. Even in the most heightened competitive situations (which happens often with 5 year old boys who will turn everything into a "race") Judah will purposely let the other party win out of pity and concern for that person's feelings.

But it's exhausting. You feel like you're never free. Always beholden. Constantly on alert. Though Judah got along well with all his kindergarten classmates, he never considered anyone a safe place to land. A haven of free expression. A let-it-all-hang-out, come-just-as-you-are, just-be-yourself kind of friend.

I feel for him. Cuz I know all too well. It's a long lonely road for the likes of us.

And a shy road. Judah loves singing and praying but he will rarely do it in front of us. He will share his most silly or non-personal songs, but the most heartfelt ones about loving Jesus and caring for the poor, he reserves.

I find the best way to get Judah to open up about his personal life is to go for a walk. Something about stretching our legs towards a stretched out world loosens the jaw and vise-like grip he constantly has on his heart. I can see a lot of hiking in our future.

Because I can sense that Judah is slowly walling himself off. Self-consciously editing. Already he is critical of his own natural self.

He tells me he hates the shape of his face. He wishes it were rounder, not so long and sharp. Rounder like me and Noah.

He tells me he hates his dark skin tone. He wishes it were lighter. Peach toned, like me and Noah.

He is ashamed that he can't do the monkey bars and can't swim yet. So ashamed he told me he never wants to set foot near a pool again, although he absolutely loves playing in the water.

And of course it breaks my heart, but at least he tells me.

At least, for now, he tells me.

I wonder how much longer he'll permit me to accompany him on his lone survivalist wanderings.

The Art of the Deal: Kindergartener Edition

Yesterday we were at the discount bookstore and I had just checked out and put my wallet away when Judah spotted something he desperately wanted - a set of 4 button pins with Justice League symbols on them.

I gave him "the look" that I hoped would shut him down immediately, but he would not be dissuaded. And to be fair, he did have $2 of his own that he was free to spend on whatever he wanted. So he begged me - please Mommy, can you just tell me how much this is?

I asked the lady at the checkout counter to scan it and she told us it was $5. Sorry Judah, Way over your budget. Denied.

But he would not be dissuaded.

The guy actually asked if he could borrow money from me, like I'm some kind of revolving line of credit. Uh, no. Not until you have some kind of employment history, buster.

And then he got really creative.

How about I just give you $2 for two of them and you keep the other two?
Uh, no.
How about I give you $2 for two of them and Noah gets the other two?
Uh, no.
Wait, Noah, Noah, don't you want to buy these buttons with me?

Noah took one look at the buttons and immediately lusted after them. He loves all things Superman so he was in. He also had $2 to spend so between the two of them, they had almost enough to buy the buttons. I felt generous so I told them I would chip in the extra $1 if they pooled their money together.

Judah felt elated, except for one small problem.

They could not decide who would get which buttons.

They BOTH wanted the Batman/Superman hybrid button. And understandably, no one wanted the Wonder Woman symbol.

I was adamant, I was not going to buy the buttons if it was going to cause them to argue indefinitely.

Judah whispered and cajoled Noah until they both agreed - no more fighting over the button.

So who's going to get the Batman/Superman button? I asked.

No one, said Judah, we'll figure it out later.

Yeah, said Noah, we'll share it!

I knew that's just a recipe for a future headache, but they seemed so proud of figuring out a temporary working solution, I just didn't have the heart to press the matter.

I bought the buttons and for the rest of the day, the two brothers were happy as jaybirds.

Judah kept holding and swinging Noah's hand singing - We made a deal! We made a deal!

Images of my previous corporate law life flashed before me and I appreciated anew the art of the deal. If only every party felt the way Noah and Judah did after settling a tough agreement.

Of course, later in the day Noah became annoyed again that he wasn't getting the Batman/Superman button outright, but somehow Judah, with his snake oil salesman voodoo, whispered sweet nothings into Noah's ear and got him to agree to give up his coveted pin.

Noah settled for Superman and Wonder Woman.

And now I'm just a little bit afraid of Judah's powers over me and his brother.

The next day Judah told me he was in possession of all FOUR of the pins now. Apparently he had wheedled and dealed Noah into trading them all away...for much more inferior things.

That ol' son of a gun. I think I could actually learn a thing or two from him.

Curious Guy and Shy Guy

It's update time!

Noah

Noah is really into asking about my favorites. Not like as a followup to me first asking him about his favorites - just as a random opening conversation question. It's weird to me because Judah never once asked me what my favorite anything is. Judah is definitely more passive and Noah more active when it comes to finding out about the world.

Every day Noah asks things like:

Mommy, what's your favorite color?
Coral
What's your second favorite color?
Sky Blue
What's your third favorite color?
*seriously, my third one?* Magenta
What's your fourth favorite color?
*what the heck is wrong with this kid?!* Uh...Grass Green

Sometimes he asks what my favorite animal is.
Or my favorite number.
Or ice cream flavor.

Today he asked me my favorite shape.

I replied - Circle.

He said his favorite was a cube.

I was pretty sure he meant square.

But then he talked about the time we made cubes out of toothpicks and marshmallows. Okay, you win Noah. I'm sorry I'm always underestimating your knowledge. You're still my baby!!!!

Judah

Judah is so shy it's kind of unbelievable. Except I totally believe it because it's EXACTLY me.

As a kid I used to wait until everyone was out of the house - then I'd put on my special dancing outfit (pink long t-shirt pajama tied with my mom's pink bathrobe tie) and put on techno music and dance my heart out.

And then the other week I put on some dance music and watched Judah start grooving for a second only to freeze and say - Mommy, I'm embarrassed. I love dancing but I don't want to do it in front of you.

WHAT?! THAT'S ME!

I've always hated being ashamed of my self-expression - what's the good of dancing and singing if you can't do it WITH others? So I tried my best to coax Judah out of his shyness. And with the help of Taylor Swift, before I knew it, we were twirling around the playroom doing all kinds of made up "real" moves - twirl, spin-around, break-apart, under my legs!

It made me feel redeemed.

But Judah's still too shy to sing his made-up songs in front of me. Instead, the most I can get him to do is take my smartphone to a secluded room, record the song by himself, and then hand me the device while he goes back to hide in said secluded room as I listen to the song he just recorded.

For that one function alone, I'm glad I got a smartphone.

It's filled with the fingerprints of his soul - a barely braved whisper of his true self.

The Assassin and the Wierdo

Between the last post and this one I've actually written 100 blog entries...in my head.

Unfortunately, I don't really remember any of them, but here are some crumbs...which is kind of a perfect analogy of my life in a way.

My future celibate assassin - don't laugh, he could kill you.

Judah. Judah has talked about which girls he would like to marry since he was 2 year old. But now, at the ripe old age of 5 and a half, he has announced that he will be a lifelong celibate. In his own words:

Mommy, I'm not going to marry anyone. Because I'm going to be an assassin when I grow up. That job is too dangerous for me to get married.

Well, it's nice to know he doesn't want to leave anyone widowed and bereaved.

Noah. Noah is becoming a really OCD kind of guy and it's driving me crazy. One of his worst pet peeves is getting wet, even if it's just a tiny droplet of water.

Future crazy homeless guy - emphasis on the crazy.

This is going to SUCK during the Summer when water play will be everywhere. Any accidental splash of water anywhere on his body or even just his clothes results in giant tears and a demand to change out of his wet gear. Even if the sun would literally dry it up before I can run upstairs and get a new shirt for him.

Recently, whenever he washes his hands, he has to dry them on a towel. And then dry them again on a paper towel. AND THEN dry them again on another paper towel. I'm so sorry rainforest trees - but I promise - I do collect and reuse these paper towels again!

This insanity reached an all new level of ridiculosity last week when Noah decided he couldn't even stand the feeling of wetness on his cheeks that were a result from his own tears.

He would cry about something and then cry about having wet cheeks.

And then cry about having more wet cheeks.

And then cry about having even more wet cheeks...

Ad nauseum

And now you know about the infinite loop of toddlerdom hell.

Oh yes, it's REAL.

The Good, the Bad, and the Fat Shaming

Life seems to be accelerating at break neck speed now that I'm with the kids a LOT more than I was previously (before Noah's preschool situation imploded and before I reduced Judah's time in after school daycare).

I can hardly find time to clear dirty plates off the counter and wipe down crumbs, much less maintain a blog of our ins and outs.

But I must! I must! Because this will be my only record of these soon to be bygone days of early childhood chaos and joy. I can think of no better application of Dickens' famous lines - It was the best of times! It was the worst of times.

First the best...

Child development books all say that age 5 is the "golden" year of childhood. And with Judah it is completely TRUE. He wants to be good. He aims to be good. And about 95% of the time he succeeds swimmingly.

 


He's so "good" in fact that he broke into tears last week when I told him that he'll one day be a teenager and will intensely dislike his parents.

Every teenager finds his parents annoying, Judah. They feel like they already know everything and that their parent's rules are simply there to frustrate them and keep them from enjoying life.

No Mommy! I don't want to be a teenager!

He was so distressed that I finally decided he could only be helped by a higher power. And so I told him to pray about it. That sweet boy, he immediately bowed his head and said the most precious thing.

Dear God, thank you for our life stages (Life stages! I kid you not, that is verbatim - the rest I'm paraphrasing from memory). Please let me be a good teenager and not hate my parents. Amen.

Man, I wish this kid could stay "5" forever.

And then the not so good...

Noah has always been a short, fat kid. Especially juxtaposed to his long, lean brother.

Noah at 7 months: poster-child for childhood diabetes or baby sumo-wrestling.

When Judah went through his "I'm Batman" phase, he often pointed to his baby brother and declared that Noah was "the Penguin".

Unfortunately, Judah's teasing of his brother has persisted and now Noah tells me at least once a day "Mommy, I'm fat."

I usually respond with a avalanche of reassurance.

You're not fat Noah!
You're perfect!
I love you just the way you are!
You're wonderful!
You're not fat. And even if you were, there's nothing wrong with being fat.
But you're not fat!
Hippos are wider than giraffes, that's how they're supposed to be.
You're just the way you should be!
Everyone's different and that's okay!

Why can't he understand he has THE PERFECT little body?

This week, instead of my usual tirade, I decided to ask Noah a further question. Maybe I'm reading to much into his statement - I'm fat, mommy. Maybe he identifies as "fat" but doesn't feel like it's a bad thing to be fat.

So I took a deep breath and said, "And how does that make you feel, Noah?"

He looked down and in a small voice whispered, "embarrassed."

Mommy heart. Broken.

The Plan

While I was driving the kids to school this morning I overheard Judah saying this to Noah:

Do you know what I'm going to do? I'm going to get you a baby! Then you can be a big brother too! It's really easy. Just get mommy some candy and make her a nice birthday card. And let them have the sex.

What. The. Heck?

Kindergarteners be crazy yo.

But hearing them eagerly plot another sibling did make me reconsider my current "I'm all done" stance. Actually, for the last few months they will tell me at least once a week how much they really really really want another baby.

Judah plots how to relive this precious sweet moment. It *almost* makes me reconsider...

And then I remembered all the night-time wakings. All the tiny choking hazards (aka, Lego pieces) scattered all over our house. All the bodily aches and pains from lifting, hoisting, holding, wearing, carrying, rocking, a 15-25 pound delicate but squirmy ball of flesh around for the better part of a year. How much I hate nursing. And how the sound of crying makes me lose my mind.

And how I'm about to sell our crib, diaper changing table, and rocking chair on Craigslist because we are now DIAPER FREE!!!!!!! for the first time in 5 years.

Yeah, I'm still done...I think...

The Time When

Often Judah and I will have a big chunk of the day to ourselves because Judah's school has a ton more days off than Noah's preschool.

Our tradition on those days, like this past Monday, is to drop Noah off at preschool and walk to the Starbucks across the street for breakfast.

Happiness is a bagel with cream cheese and just the two of us.

I don't know if it's the pastries or the company that makes Judah so radiantly happy during those times. But he is as happy and content as I've ever seen him then.

"Mommy, can we have a conversation?" he asks.

"Sure."

"Mommy, who do you think is stronger, the blue bionicle or the green bionicle?"

As you can tell, it's not the most scintillating conversation for me, but I love how open his heart is during those moments. If I wanted to instruct him or impress something on him, that would be the time to do it. That day I told him I was cutting down his precious TV time in half (it had ballooned from 1 show a day to 2 shows) and instead of the expected meltdown, he accepted it with equanimity and even grace.

"Okay mommy, I don't want to watch too much TV."

As Judah gets older, I'm realizing that the openness of his heart is what I'm most afraid of losing. He has always loved me with abandon and banishing any sadness or pain was as easy as having huggle snuggles on the couch. Literally, that's all it took.

But will it always be that easy?

Will my love always be enough?

Judging from the surly anger of every teenager that has ever lived, no.

It's a horrible, dreadful, creeping realization that I will recede and other forces - cultural and social - will loom larger.

The boy who occasionally tells me - Mommy, I'm sad I'm not a girl because then I can't ever be a mommy like you - will be no more.

But he will still have my heart forever.

F*ck Hearts

It was bound to happen.

Yesterday Judah said "F*ck you" and showed me the middle-finger.

He learned it from his friend at school and didn't know what it meant.

I proffered a kinda lame explanation but it was the best I could do. I just said it means I really really really really hate you.

And Judah responded, well, then, can I say F*ck you Satan?

Uh...no.

Why?

Uh...your dad can explain it to you.

Later on that day Judah found his old notebook from preschool. He loved his preschool with all his heart and flipped through the pages fondly. But then he started picking off all the hearts he had pasted on the cover as decoration.

When we asked why, he explained that he was drawing a picture in class today and drew lots of hearts on it. A classmate came over and laughed at it and told him hearts are stupid.

Typical Judah drawing - abounding in hearts.

As the mom of a son who has drawn "hearts for love" as soon as he could hold a crayon, I died a little inside.

Thank you kindergarten.

Raising an Underachiever

It's funny how you start to recognize your child.

At first, Judah was a colicky, demanding baby. A total stranger to me in every way.

And then his personality slowly emerged as he was more able to express his inner world of thoughts and feelings. Until now, at age 5, I have fully realized that Judah is exactly me (on the inside).

He is extremely sensitive.

He is driven by fear that others will be mad at him.

He is utterly embarrassed by any attention whatsoever.

And in a nutshell, he is a people-pleaser extrordinaire.

My sweet, (extremely) anxious, (overly) sensitive mini-me.

It's pretty freaky how much we're alike. Every posture and inclination he has finds complete resonance in my own heart. I'm now a big believer in Nature over Nurture.

So when Judah complains about going to school, I tell him things I'm pretty sure most parents would never tell their own kids.

I instruct him often: Don't try your best Judah.
And he objects: But Mrs. Hawkins will get mad at me if I don't do my best work!

It's especially hard to convince him to ease-up when his school actually recites a pledge every day, which includes a promise to do "your personal best."

But I know Judah.

I know the pressure of perfectionism is sucking all the joy out of school. I know his extreme efforts at forming the perfect upper and lower case letters completely stress him out. I know he kills himself to color intricately within the lines for fear. I know the kid who LOVED preschool doesn't want to go to kindergarten anymore because it's become a place of unbearably high anxiety born out of his desire to please his teacher, whom he loves.

So I implore him daily to NOT try his best.

But I can tell Judah is utterly confused by the blatant contradiction between my instructions and his teacher's mantras. And sometimes I wonder if I'm giving Judah the right message - don't try too hard, relax...I literally told him just to put in "HALF your best effort" because I didn't think he understood any other percentages.

Did I just basically tell my kid to half-ass everything at school? Does this make me a bad parent?

Oh fun

Two-year-olds are so mean.

Noah made me cry in the car today with this conversation:

Noah: I gonna be three on my birthday Mommy!

Me: Yes, you are!

Noah: I gonna be a big big boy. No more baby, Mommy. You sad you have no more baby.

Me: Yes, Mommy is so sad her baby is all grown up.

Noah: You miss your cute cute cute little baby.

Me: Yeah, I do.

Noah: Your baby's gone! No more baby!

Me: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

This is the chubby guy I think of when Noah taunts me about losing my baby - now excuse me while I bawl.

In other news, Judah slammed his finger in the car door last weekend. His finger swelled to twice its size and his nail turned completely black.

Judah is the kind of kid that freaks out when I dip his hand into lukewarm water to soften his skin in preparation for taking out a tiny speck of a splinter. So you can imagine the hysterics when his finger was throbbing with pain and looked like something out of Mordor.

Kids. Never a dull moment.