Perspectives and Possibilities

Change.

Change is a funny thing. Sometimes it is exciting, and sometimes scary, or hard.  Or all three.  And sometimes it is so gradual you never even notice it is happening.

I feel as though our family has been evolving in a lot of interesting ways over the past year.  It feels like good things are on the horizon.  That doesn't mean I don't have moments of temporary panic and doubt, but when I look at where we stand and how far we've come I can breath a little easier.  In fact, sometimes a hint of giddiness creeps in.

Possibilities abound. . .

The same can be said of parenting.  Some days are monumental.  But mostly not.  Mostly you trek along doing what you set out to do, one step at a time. Homework. Piano lessons. Housework. Volunteer. Laundry. Tae Kwon Do. Run. Make lists. Cross items off lists. Trudge along. . . But you are so close to the details of your life you often fail to see the wonderful things that are developing until you step back and take a good look at your progress--at the whole picture from your new perspective.

Last week while I was researching for a paper topic for a class I am taking I came across a study that was analyzing the effects of parental involvement on a child's success--both in school and in life.  And while many factors affected how well a child performed in school, the most influential factor was the environment fostered by the parents.  Specifically, the study claimed that parents who had high expectations and aspirations for their children, who read with them and to them, and who exposed their children to educational experiences (like trips to the museum or simply having books in the home), were the ones whose children most often succeeded.  All of these, of course, come from actually spending time with your children, accompanied by positive reinforcement.

It all got me thinking about what we do with our children--and by we I mean "me".  I certainly feel as though we have spent more time doing fun things as a family over the past six months or so.  That was a conscientious decision we made last summer--to spend more time doing fun things as a family.  And we have.  We bought cross country skis and have gone a couple of times already, which we love.  We have begun to run as a family and have signed up for our first 6K as a family (perhaps that isn't actually fun, but we pretend it is!). We have tried to maintain our tradition of Family Fun Friday, intermittent though it often is with Signe's soccer games on Friday.  Nevertheless, that study had me wondering if we were doing enough.  Surely we could  spend more quality time together as a family.  And while helping the girls with their homework and reading to and with the girls is good, I thought it might be fun to somehow combine Family Fun Friday with educational activities. Leisure and learning. Anything to combat the influx of electronic activities encroaching on our lives.

So I went online and compiled a list of local museums, theaters, nature preserves, historic places, family entertainment venues, etc.  Anything and everything I thought might expose the girls to something new-- activities and places meant to be fun and broaden their perspectives.  Near the bottom of the list was rock gym.  Rob has been wanting to try rock wall climbing, so when I saw the gym I added it to the list.  MY first choice was the Portland Museum.  Rob's first choice was the rock gym.

We went to the rock gym.

Honestly, the girls were stoked and much braver than I would have suspected.  We all had fun working our way to the top of the 36 foot wall.  I tend to be afraid of heights.  But I learned that when I have a safety rope, I only have to focus on where my hands and feet are going RIGHT NOW.  Before I knew it I was at the top! When I stopped and looked back at how far I had gone, I was surprised to see how high I was.  It was a whole new perspective.

Kind of like life.

We expect a lot from our girls.  We push them quite a lot. I worry often about whether I am pushing them too much or not enough.

Do I invest enough quality time with them?
Have I provided good opportunities for them?
Will they be happy and well balanced?
Am I making them neurotic!?  

We plod along one foot hold and hand grasp at a time, hoping we are headed to a place of progress rather than a dead end or danger.  But then. . . once in a while. . .

We lean back and see how far we've come.  We take in the view. We see the good.  We feel the  giddiness start to creep in.  And we know--I know--beautiful things are happening.

Possibilities abound.

(I apologize for the crappy picture quality--I wasn't about to try taking my good camera--I clearly need to get a good quality point and shoot!)

Meet Booguloogu

The book fair at my daughters' schools this year had an alien theme.  I believe it was "To the Book Fair and Beyond".  I was on the committee.  We did a lot of alien related contests and art, including an alien art contest where the winners got their drawing on a t-shirt.  The kids decorated their classroom doors with aliens and this week, as a reward for making the money goal set for the fair, the principals of the three schools are dressing up like aliens for a day.

So aliens have been on the brain lately.

Yesterday Signe came home with the following letter:

It was a spelling exercise where she had to write a letter using her spelling words for the week.  The underlined words are her spelling words.  In case you can't make out the writing from my picture, it reads:

Dear Avery,

Over the weekend an alien fell down from outer space.  I made friends with him. I did shake his hand. It  made my hand blue. I made cookies and washed my hand. I asked him what is your name. He said booguloogu.

Love,
Signe

I took the picture because she wanted to actually give the letter to her friend and I wanted to document how stinkin' cute it was! 

Keeping the Magic Alive

I like to think I am a fairly good parent.  But nobody's perfect.  That's what I tell myself in cases like this one.

With your first child, everything that happens is grand and exciting because it is a first for you as the parent as well.  I often lament being the 6th child in my own family because things apparently get less noteworthy.  The boxes of pictures of my oldest brother became a mere handful by the time I was toddling around the world. Though there are certainly other perks to being a younger sibling.  I'm not exempt to this inconsistency in parenting, although photography is one area where I differ, my youngest has far more pictures than my oldest because I took up photography after the oldest was out of diapers, but I digress.

Last week, Signe got her wish (well one of them, anyway).  She lost a tooth at school.  This is a big deal--because they make it a big deal.  She even got a certificate signed by the principal for losing her tooth at school. Despite it being the 8th tooth she has lost (which I only know because she told me, not because I kept track), she came home thrilled, proudly displaying her tiny little baby tooth in a plastic baggy, along with her certificate, like it was trophy.

As it turns out, it was probably a good thing somebody made a big deal out of it, because apparently it wasn't going to be me! At least, not in a way that would make my seven year old happy.

The first night Signe forgot to put the tooth under her pillow for the tooth fairy.  Shocking in and of itself, but not as shocking as what was about to happen. . . twice!

The second night she had a sleepover at a friend's house and so didn't put the tooth under her pillow.

The third night, she remembered.  With giddy excitement she tucked the tooth under her pillow and snuggled down to sleep, bidding us all to hurry and go to sleep so the tooth fairy would come.  Rob and I then had what we like to call our parent party, which means we do whatever we want, kidless.  On this night we watched a movie and went to bed.

Did you catch that?  We watched a movie. . . and then went to bed.

Monday morning:

"Mom! The tooth fairy didn't come!  I put my tooth under my pillow and it was still there this morning!" She holds up the baggy as proof of the tooth fairy's negligence.  Did I mention she had a friend over for a sleep over? I was on the verge of destroying not only my daughter's innocent belief in magic, but her friend's as well.

Crap.

"That's weird."  I say, and rack my brain for an excuse--for the tooth fairy, of course.  "Maybe she. . . "

"Is she even real?!" Sig asks, hand limp at her side, baggy dangling, face crestfallen.

"Of course she's real!" Avery argues.  "Just like Santa!"

"But magic is not real."  Signe states, more as a challenge than as a matter of fact.

"Sometimes magic IS real." I tell her.  I am not handling this well.  Luckily, Signe's brilliance saves me.

"Oh!" She suddenly shouts. "It's Labor Day! That's probably why she didn't come!"

Relief.

I have a second shot at being a good parent--that is, if you believe lying to your kids about made up things like Santa and the Tooth Fairy is good parenting. I tend to think it is--childhood should be magical as long as possible.

"I bet you're right! Let's try again tonight." I say, then chant in my mind, "Don't forget. Don't forget, DON'T forget!"

But then Signe forgets to put it under her pillow for two nights.  It might have had something to do with excessive Taekwondo practice and loads of homework and various other exhausting activities.

As a side note, last year we let Hannah in on the whole magic gig.  She understands that the magic of Santa is one we create--which doesn't make it less real--and things like the tooth fairy are really just us parents, keeping the magic alive.  She was on to us anyway, and she loves being in on the conspiracy now.  She gets to help make the magic now, which is WAY more cool.

Okay, Wednesday night, during our parent party (TV and popcorn--the usual), Hannah sneaks down and clues us in:

"I thought you should know that Signe just put her tooth under her pillow." It's good to have her on our side now because clearly we need her help.

"Perfect! Thanks for the reminder." At which time we finish our show. . . and then we go to bed.

"Again! The tooth fairy didn't come AGAIN!"  Signe wails as she runs into my room the following morning.  Hannah hurries in behind her and throws her hands in the air, a look of disbelief and disgust on her face.  Seriously, I think she might just find some money to put under Signe's pillow herself if I don't remember again.  But first, damage control.

"Oh my goodness!  What could possibly make her not come again?"  No really, what excuse could fix this?  Got any ideas? I didn't.  "Maybe so many kids have lost teeth that she is behind schedule?"

She looks at me, eyes narrowed, considering.

"Oh! I know what it was!" My husband jumps in.  "I forgot and I set the alarm. I bet she couldn't get in because she didn't want to set off the alarm!"

Aaaand she buys it.  Jeez we are bad parents.   That night she speculates to Rob about why the tooth fairy really keeps forgetting.  Maybe her tooth is too dirty and not good enough.  Maybe the tooth fairy is on a new schedule.

Maybe I had better not forget again!

Last night. I sneak into her room. . . and can't find her tooth under her pillow, or anywhere.  I suggest putting the money under there anyway, but Rob reminds me it might look bad if she finds her tooth later.  Luckily I spot it on my nightstand.  I decide I will tell her I put it under for her and I stash the tooth with her previously lost seven (because keeping baby teeth isn't gross or anything), and tuck a $5 bill under her pillow.  Yes I am trying to buy her off.  It's been a week since she lost her tooth, the tooth fairy probably owes interest or something.

This morning? Happiness and dancing.  Phew.  She did try and fake me out though.  She came in all sad and tried to pretend the tooth fairy had forgotten again, then whipped out the money to show me she HAD come. . . finally.

Next time I better not forget.  She has several more to loose, it could get kind of spendy.

It's really a good thing I only have two kids.  Just imagine what I might forget if I had more, let alone EIGHT like my own mother.

What have YOU forgotten lately?

The Adventures of Cowboy Jones

If you can't remember what it was like to be a child, one that uses their own imagination instead of just playing video games, I could lend you my daughter.  Or at least give you a glimpse into her world.  Sometimes its a little harry in there, but I guarantee you WILL be entertained.  I like to think her vast and varied imagination comes from me. . . but sometimes it's so full of crazy it can only be blamed on Rob!

Remember, this is the same girl who told me she only really saw the things in her head, not the real world, and that she didn't want to grow up and lose her magic.  I hope she doesn't.

A couple weeks ago the girls had dentist appointments.  Our dentist gives you tokens as a reward and they have a couple machines in the lobby where you can redeem them for trinkets--bouncy balls, magic growing foam creatures, temporary body tattoos, bracelets, etc.  Signe put in her token and out popped a. . . fake mustache.

One might assume that a seven year old girl would be disappointed by such a reward.  But no, her eyes narrowed, the wheels in her head started spinning.  Then a grin popped onto her face, accompanied by a little giggle.


We drove home. I forgot about her prize and went about my day.  About a half hour later, a stranger emerged from our playroom. . .

I laughed.  Then said, "It's Mustache Louie!"

(Mustache Louie has been a joke in the house since Hannah started 6th grade and came home from her first day of riding the middle school/high school bus slightly horrified that a kid on her bus had a mustache!--her emphasis.  We nick named him Mustache Louie.)

She had me take this series of pictures to make it look like she was moving!

"No! I'm Cowboy Jones!" She corrected me.  "And I need to go next door." To show her friend Avery, of course.  As luck would have it, Avery was at the door.

She had to add gloves because she had on purple nail polish which might give it away that she was actually a girl!

After Signe got over the disappointment of not getting to surprise her friend, the two of them concocted their own surprise plan, unbeknownst to me.  It went something like this. . .

Avery and Signe rode their bikes (aka horses) back to Avery's house (Avery just got a new very big bike and they were obsessed with riding bikes--especially around the loop, which required grownup supervision).

Avery went in her front door and Signe waited on the stoop.

"Hey Mom and Dad! I got tired of waiting for Signe to get back and so I rode my bike around the loop by myself!" and quickly before the parents' astonished faces could turn into admonishments. "And I found a new boy to play with. . . and here he is!" Grand gesture toward front door followed by sweeping entrance of Si-- I mean Cowboy Jones.

Again, imagine motion--her idea.  

Then, as fun as that was, they decided they could stretch more fun out of a free, fake mustache (and a leather vest and cowboy hat from Hannah's Jessie [Toy Story] Halloween costume--age 2), so they trekked off to find Avery a suitable side kick costume.

And shortly thereafter we have. . .

Rodeo Clown Kate!  (My camera battery had died by then so all I got was a bad cell phone picture.) Sig wouldn't smile because she was "a man".

The two swapped costumes and played for hours.  THAT is what childhood is really all about!

Happy Friday!

Arming them with knowledge

A funny thing happens when you become a parent.  You learn how to worry about someone else more than yourself.  It becomes a fine balance between protecting your children and teaching them to take care of themselves.  I think as a father, it must be so much harder to deal with when your kids are girls.  The father-daughter relationship is certainly a unique one.  Since we have only two girls it often leaves me as the disciplinarian for the simple reason Rob has a hard time telling his girls no.  He has been known to say, and I quote, "Anything for my girls!"  Granted, when that statement includes me (as it often does) I like hearing it.  But when I see it creating spoiled girls who would take their father's last bite of dessert out of his mouth, I worry.  Nobody wants their children to suffer, but on the flip side, we don't want them to be selfish and self-centered without a care for others either.

I think my girls are pretty balanced, but the big worries are still in our future: the teenage years.  Hannah is fast approaching 12. . . then 13.  Signe may be four years behind her, but with an older sister to teach her, she is a fast learner.  Rob and I have often discussed how to create just the right balance that will give our girls confidence to know their worth and not make choices based on insecurity and lack of self worth.  Some days I vote for Rob's suggested method:  Make them snobs so they think they are too good for all the unworthy boys.  Of course, we don't get to dictate who they think is worthy or unworthy, and that plan could have unwanted side effects. . . like snobby daughters.

So instead, we encourage them to pursue sports and activities that they like and will excel at, in hopes that they will feel important, and know their own value.  We praise them for their good work, remind them we love them often, and make them work hard for their rewards, so they don't take things for granted.

But in the end, it will be hard to send off our beautiful daughters into the world where we can't be their constant protection.  Because even confident, well rounded, beautiful, smart girls can find themselves in bad situations. . . so we are stacking the deck in our favor (or their favor, rather).

We signed them up for Taekwondo.

And while I admit it is rather disturbing when the instructor says things like, "You want to be sure to strike them in the proper place on their inner thigh to crush their artery." or "Once you have pushed them to the ground and broken their wrist, securing the knife, carve your initials in their chest."  It is also rather reassuring to see my seven year old take down a stranger who comes up behind her and grabs her by the hair, or know how to react when someone tries to abduct her.

Signe during her novice test

Plus, as an added bonus, they are getting a good physical workout, learning self discipline, and gaining personal confidence.  A win win. . . win, win.  

Part of the endurance test

All the white belt and yellow belt students holding horseback stance while being grilled on their  terms and definitions

Holding horseback stance while waiting to perform their novice test

We figure we have covered our bases. We want our girls to be beautiful, smart, accomplished, confident, talented enough to play the Brandenburg Concerto one moment. . . and skilled enough to take out a possible threat to their safety in the next.  Really, it makes it easier to sleep at night.

Last Wednesday they passed their first test to gain their white belt.  It was three hours long.  Part physical endurance (which was hard enough to watch--if I had been the one doing it I might have wept!), part memorization or terms, part performance of the novice moves, and part board breaking--which is really more mental strength than physical.  Here are the videos of each of their board breaks:

Signe

Hannah

A Flutter of Ideas. . .

. . . beads in a jar.

. . . cheerios on a page.

. . . colored pencils stuck in a foam ball. (Signe is nothing if not creative!)

. . . "signe's" on a page

All ideas of what to do for the 100th day of school celebration.  Signe had been putting off her project for nearly two weeks because she couldn't think of just the perfect thing to make for her 100th day project.  It had to be something that could hang on the wall, and it had to be something that no one else would do.

I was no help either.  I kept shooting off ideas while I worked on a new strand of garland.  Then suddenly the paper punch next to me inspired an idea. . .

and a flutter of butterflies were born--100 of them, actually.  

Signe was thrilled! 

Funny it took me so long to think of it considering the plethora of butterfly projects around here lately (not to mention the ones on my idea list--as yet uncreated). . . 

The butterfly wreath:

The butterfly cake:

(And my most recent project) The butterfly garland:

(currently hanging in Signe's window)

Maybe I should have just sewn up a string of 100 butterflies!  They could have hung that around the classroom.  

Think Outside the Box

Whenever we are in the mood for a good laugh around here we invite Signe to entertain us.  The girl is hilarious and no one can predict the twists and turns her mind will take. . . except maybe Rob since they are both slightly crazy. But he claims she surprises even him.  This is not a girl who colors inside the lines.  She does not conform to laws of science, or the bounds of reality.  She exists in a land of magic and possibility.

All that being said, sometimes she comes up with completely plausible ideas, despite their unusual nature.

For instance, our oven has been acting up--turning itself on and doing weird things--so Rob has flipped the breaker off the last couple of nights (which also turns off the microwave).  This morning Signe decided she wanted bread with butter and jam on it for breakfast. . . only the butter was hard from the fridge and the jam was the less sugar variety of freezer strawberry jam, which tends to freeze harder.  But none-the-less, I sliced some butter and scooped some jam onto the bread, but in the rush was too lazy to go out and flip the breaker.

"But I want it melted!" Signe complained.

"Just fold it over and pretend it is dessert." I suggested

"Can't we heat it up somehow?" Her eyes squinted and her brain started turning. "Like, I don't know, blow dry it or something?"

"That's exactly what we should do!" I said.  Because really, it wasn't a bad idea.  And it was more fun that walking out to the other side of the garage to flip the breaker back on.

So while she brushed her hair, we blow dried her bread and jam.  It made it nice and soft and the butter just a little melty.  Perfect.

Thinking outside the box is always useful, even if it's just for breakfast.  Plus it made her giggle, which I can never get enough of.

Happy Tuesday!

Happy Haunting. . .

Usually I don't allow the girls to dress up as anything too scary or gory.  For years we have had princesses, more princesses, and the occasional hippy.  But this year we tried something a little different.

Meet the Ghost Bride and her little Ghost Waif. . .

The pictures aren't great, but this is what I get in a dark house minutes before heading out to haunt the neighborhood.

Signe still claimed:  We are beautiful. . . and a little creepy.

That blank stare IS a little creepy

They wore black shoes, which you couldn't really see in the dark, so they looked like they were floating.

Even still, the neighborhood was a little quiet.  It might have been because Halloween fell on a Sunday. . . or it might have had something to do with this:

Apparently a bear has been frequenting the neighborhood.  But these two were the scariest thing we saw out and about. . .

Happy Halloween!

Silence is Golden. . .

I love my kids to bits and pieces, but I have been dreaming of this day for weeks!  However, it was hard to drop my daughter off at middle school and have her say:

"Leave the camera in the car." Then she only let me walk her halfway to her home room.  I hovered at the halfway point watching my grown up girl walk away until the principal assured me I could go all the way.

"She doesn't want me to walk her." I explained, kind of sad that she didn't need me.

"Well, I will go down and make sure there is no confusion."  He offered with a smile.

She is going to be fine.

As for Signe, she was stoked to be in first grade and couldn't wait to meet her classmates. She skipped all the way to class and held my hand and even let me take two pictures of her at her desk. . . and kiss her in front of other people.

It's good to know I am still needed.

And it is very good to sit in a silent house and ponder my plans for the day in peace.

Priorities. . .

I woke up this morning with a list of things to do.  Toilets need scrubbing, floors need mopping, the sheets I washed yesterday need to be put back on beds. . .

As I was finishing the morning dishes I looked at my six year old sitting on the couch watching a show, and I thought, soon she will be big and not care about spending the day with me.  So I wiped my hands and sat down by her.

"Signe, what do you want to do today?" I asked her.

"What do you mean?"  She asked me.

"What would make you happy today?"

She thought a minute.  "Can we do a project?"

"Yes."

"Can we do a sewing project?"  She started to really perk up and then her eyes lit up. "Can we make my Alexander Doll a new dress?"

When I said yes she got all kinds of excited and helped me look through the fabric for the perfect dress material.  Then she drew me a picture on the chalkboard of how she wanted it to look.

So while I cut and sewed, she cut and glued. . . a new princess crown for her doll, to go with her new dress.

Then we ate lunch, with Maggie (the doll) pulled up in a chair next to Signe, in her new outfit of course.

And I still need to clean the bathrooms, but the delay was worth the big squeezy hug and the very pleased "I LOVE it!" that I got from a happy six year old.