As an excuse to revive my rather neglected blog, I am going to post here every day in November, to discuss those things for which I am thankful.
I'm starting on November 1st by being thankful for this exercise, as I envision it being a great tool for maintaining a positive attitude.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Monday, October 17, 2011
New Toy Test
Finally drank the iPhone Kool-Aid. I love the Mac, love the iPod and iPad, and I'm excited to have all of this functionality in one device. Expensive, but it's our "Musical Daddy has a job" present.
Awesome camera.
Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Awesome camera.
Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Location:Reynolds St,Pittsburgh,United States
Saturday, October 1, 2011
The Way You Do The Things You Do
This title has been in my head for weeks; now I'm grabbing the opportunity to write the post.
I've been noticing, as I continue to ease my way into the new rhythm of having three small children and having my husband out of the house a LOT, that I accomplish tasks differently. I have to, or those tasks just won't happen. For example, today I put lunch on the table for us and my brother and some friends, having done no planning whatsoever before getting the meal ready. I now have three children, not two, and asking anyone other than my husband to ride herd on all of them for the amount of time it takes to put an elaborate meal on the table is just unreasonable. Since nothing that I was doing required me to stand in front of the stove or expose myself to any extreme temperatures, I was able to get almost everything done while carrying Ender in the Ergo (or, if I wanted to use the proper name for the device, the "soft-structured carrier"). That's about two hours of having 15 pounds of baby wrapped around me, and that's actually easy for me. I don't have to worry about where he is or what his concerns might be, because he sleeps contentedly for awhile when the time is right.
In summary, although the plural of "anecdote" is not "data," trying to get things done with one child vs three children is like vacation. Particularly when said child is attached physically.
It seems as though having three small children involves the designation of one as the trump card, the x factor, the straw that breaks the camel's back (or that stirs the drink, baseball fans). Much of the time, that designation goes not to Ender the baby but to Meatball the toddler.
And here we find the source of much of my angst and anxiety over these past few weeks. Meatball is SO 2 right now and in such desperate need of attention that is sometimes hard for me to give. When I am able to spend time with him just on his own, out of the presence of his brothers, he is a different little boy than the way that he is when in the company of others. Unfortunately, he doesn't get that "alone" time, although with the help of Grandma, I'm hoping to make some time on Thursday morning into Meatball time.
I feel better when I walk into his preschool classroom and see a bunch of other little boys who do the exact same things that he does. Not that I didn't know that it was normal but I'm still relieved that my child isn't the only one.
Even so, there are only so many times that I can get cracked on the head and screamed at by this little angry human to whom I have devoted SO much energy into protecting before it starts to get to me. Hitting him back won't help. I've screamed right back at him a few times and while that has elicited a distressed response from him, he doesn't have the capacity to understand that what I did to him is what he just did to me. He also doesn't have the ability to comprehend correction very well. As in, if I tell him to "stop" when he hits someone, next time he'll hit someone and then say stop, because he's adding that to the script.
Musical Daddy has a great amount of patience and possesses the power to change the script more easily. It's something that I've been working on a lot, been reading about, talking to other mothers, and just testing out. And it's my job to remember that I set the tone for our interactions. The children can try but since I'm the adult, it's my job to remember that I set the tone. The link goes to the Positive Parenting Challenge, which I've referenced a few times over here. While we don't do a lot of the things she does lifestyle-wise, we strive to approach our relationships with our children in the same way.
Meatball has an extensive vocabulary and the speech patterns of a somewhat older child. He has the bathroom skills even though right now he's in a regression pattern. I love to watch him play and think and create, but it's hard to remember that he's still in the earlier half of age 2 and I may be expecting too much of him due to the proximity of his skills to those of his older brother and the disparity (obviously) between him and Ender.
One of the things that really helps me see things in perspective is to observe the positive behaviors in The Boy that weren't there before or hadn't really cemented themselves before. The Boy listens and follows directions a lot of the time. He holds doors and is polite, saying "please" "thank you" "I'm sorry" and "excuse me" in proper context. He can be more easily persuaded to stay on task by explaining to him what steps come next and what is required of him before those steps can proceed. He is able to do "his jobs" around the house and at school.
I'm curious to re-read what I'd written during this trying time in The Boy's life. It happened a little later for him, due to his illness, but I'm sure that I had to change a lot of the things I did as a result of his age and his ability to remain focused without throwing gigantic screaming fits.
I'm glad that Meatball is so willing to allow me to cut his fingernails; we'd otherwise be in real trouble.
It will be interesting to see what happens as Ender gets older and more...outspoken.
I've been noticing, as I continue to ease my way into the new rhythm of having three small children and having my husband out of the house a LOT, that I accomplish tasks differently. I have to, or those tasks just won't happen. For example, today I put lunch on the table for us and my brother and some friends, having done no planning whatsoever before getting the meal ready. I now have three children, not two, and asking anyone other than my husband to ride herd on all of them for the amount of time it takes to put an elaborate meal on the table is just unreasonable. Since nothing that I was doing required me to stand in front of the stove or expose myself to any extreme temperatures, I was able to get almost everything done while carrying Ender in the Ergo (or, if I wanted to use the proper name for the device, the "soft-structured carrier"). That's about two hours of having 15 pounds of baby wrapped around me, and that's actually easy for me. I don't have to worry about where he is or what his concerns might be, because he sleeps contentedly for awhile when the time is right.
In summary, although the plural of "anecdote" is not "data," trying to get things done with one child vs three children is like vacation. Particularly when said child is attached physically.
It seems as though having three small children involves the designation of one as the trump card, the x factor, the straw that breaks the camel's back (or that stirs the drink, baseball fans). Much of the time, that designation goes not to Ender the baby but to Meatball the toddler.
And here we find the source of much of my angst and anxiety over these past few weeks. Meatball is SO 2 right now and in such desperate need of attention that is sometimes hard for me to give. When I am able to spend time with him just on his own, out of the presence of his brothers, he is a different little boy than the way that he is when in the company of others. Unfortunately, he doesn't get that "alone" time, although with the help of Grandma, I'm hoping to make some time on Thursday morning into Meatball time.
I feel better when I walk into his preschool classroom and see a bunch of other little boys who do the exact same things that he does. Not that I didn't know that it was normal but I'm still relieved that my child isn't the only one.
Even so, there are only so many times that I can get cracked on the head and screamed at by this little angry human to whom I have devoted SO much energy into protecting before it starts to get to me. Hitting him back won't help. I've screamed right back at him a few times and while that has elicited a distressed response from him, he doesn't have the capacity to understand that what I did to him is what he just did to me. He also doesn't have the ability to comprehend correction very well. As in, if I tell him to "stop" when he hits someone, next time he'll hit someone and then say stop, because he's adding that to the script.
Musical Daddy has a great amount of patience and possesses the power to change the script more easily. It's something that I've been working on a lot, been reading about, talking to other mothers, and just testing out. And it's my job to remember that I set the tone for our interactions. The children can try but since I'm the adult, it's my job to remember that I set the tone. The link goes to the Positive Parenting Challenge, which I've referenced a few times over here. While we don't do a lot of the things she does lifestyle-wise, we strive to approach our relationships with our children in the same way.
Meatball has an extensive vocabulary and the speech patterns of a somewhat older child. He has the bathroom skills even though right now he's in a regression pattern. I love to watch him play and think and create, but it's hard to remember that he's still in the earlier half of age 2 and I may be expecting too much of him due to the proximity of his skills to those of his older brother and the disparity (obviously) between him and Ender.
One of the things that really helps me see things in perspective is to observe the positive behaviors in The Boy that weren't there before or hadn't really cemented themselves before. The Boy listens and follows directions a lot of the time. He holds doors and is polite, saying "please" "thank you" "I'm sorry" and "excuse me" in proper context. He can be more easily persuaded to stay on task by explaining to him what steps come next and what is required of him before those steps can proceed. He is able to do "his jobs" around the house and at school.
I'm curious to re-read what I'd written during this trying time in The Boy's life. It happened a little later for him, due to his illness, but I'm sure that I had to change a lot of the things I did as a result of his age and his ability to remain focused without throwing gigantic screaming fits.
I'm glad that Meatball is so willing to allow me to cut his fingernails; we'd otherwise be in real trouble.
It will be interesting to see what happens as Ender gets older and more...outspoken.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Life, Strength, and Help
My children have names in English and names in Hebrew. Each of them was named, both in English and in Hebrew, in memory of a departed relative. The older two were given the Hebrew names of my grandmother's older brothers--The Boy is Chayim Dovid and Meatball is Yehuda Aryeh. Ender's Hebrew name is Ezra Ovadiah, with Ovadiah being my great-grandfather's Hebrew name and Ezra being for my uncle Eddie even though his actual Hebrew name is Yehuda.
It should be noted that many Jewish people only have one name and it's a Hebrew or Yiddish one. Others have a name that can be translated easily but they go by the Hebrew version or a nickname derived from it. We're not Hebrew speakers (well, I am, but it's not my first language and no one else really speaks it so I'd be talking to the wall until I start teaching it to the kids beyond the letters that they already know) and we're not very religiously observant, so my children have secular American names.
Anyhow, I thought about my children's Hebrew names and their meanings and how much each child embodies his name. The Boy's Hebrew name Chayim means "life." Many Jewish people add the name "Chayim" (for a boy/man) or "Chaya" (for a girl/woman) to their Hebrew name if they get sick, and it is supposed to bring them extra healing. The Boy needed extra healing in his life but was already named Chayim. Everyone prayed for him; the name "Chayim Dovid ben Miriam" (Chayim Dovid the son of Miriam, which is my Hebrew name) was well-known in the community in New Jersey and in Pittsburgh as well, not to mention in Harrisburg and many other places. But more than The Boy getting his life back, he showed us exactly what was important in life, and what was not. His struggles, and our struggles, made us better people.
Meatball's first Hebrew name, "Yehuda," is the Hebrew version of Judah (or rather, that's the translation of "Yehuda"). His middle name is "Aryeh" which means "Lion." He happens to like lions, but I prefer to focus on the strength of the lion for Meatball. He's a strong kid, sure, but he gave us a lot of strength at a time when we really needed it, and having him gave us the strength to make many hard decisions.
As for Ender, we really hit a positive turning point during the time following his birth. His first Hebrew name, "Ezra," means "help." And his middle name, "Ovadiah" (pronounced o VAHD ya; in English it is "Obadiah"), means "work." Since his birth, my sister, her boyfriend, my husband, and hopefully I as well, have gotten jobs. I have a meeting tomorrow with someone about a part-time position that is very compatible with having children. Although we thought that adding a third child would make life more difficult, in fact, he has helped us without knowing it.
It should be noted that many Jewish people only have one name and it's a Hebrew or Yiddish one. Others have a name that can be translated easily but they go by the Hebrew version or a nickname derived from it. We're not Hebrew speakers (well, I am, but it's not my first language and no one else really speaks it so I'd be talking to the wall until I start teaching it to the kids beyond the letters that they already know) and we're not very religiously observant, so my children have secular American names.
Anyhow, I thought about my children's Hebrew names and their meanings and how much each child embodies his name. The Boy's Hebrew name Chayim means "life." Many Jewish people add the name "Chayim" (for a boy/man) or "Chaya" (for a girl/woman) to their Hebrew name if they get sick, and it is supposed to bring them extra healing. The Boy needed extra healing in his life but was already named Chayim. Everyone prayed for him; the name "Chayim Dovid ben Miriam" (Chayim Dovid the son of Miriam, which is my Hebrew name) was well-known in the community in New Jersey and in Pittsburgh as well, not to mention in Harrisburg and many other places. But more than The Boy getting his life back, he showed us exactly what was important in life, and what was not. His struggles, and our struggles, made us better people.
Meatball's first Hebrew name, "Yehuda," is the Hebrew version of Judah (or rather, that's the translation of "Yehuda"). His middle name is "Aryeh" which means "Lion." He happens to like lions, but I prefer to focus on the strength of the lion for Meatball. He's a strong kid, sure, but he gave us a lot of strength at a time when we really needed it, and having him gave us the strength to make many hard decisions.
As for Ender, we really hit a positive turning point during the time following his birth. His first Hebrew name, "Ezra," means "help." And his middle name, "Ovadiah" (pronounced o VAHD ya; in English it is "Obadiah"), means "work." Since his birth, my sister, her boyfriend, my husband, and hopefully I as well, have gotten jobs. I have a meeting tomorrow with someone about a part-time position that is very compatible with having children. Although we thought that adding a third child would make life more difficult, in fact, he has helped us without knowing it.
Friday, September 2, 2011
An odd form of negligence
My last post, while very thoughtful, was actually published after midnight on August 30th. I didn't realize that until just now when I looked at my blog entries, but rather than being published the day before, it was published on August 30th.
And that day just happened to be The Boy's 4th birthday. Although there was no bloggy celebration, the information showed up on Facebook and, of course, we had some cake.
This is, of course, a big deal. Every birthday for The Boy is a slightly bigger deal, because he had to fight harder just to see any birthdays at all. He was diagnosed with cancer before he'd even had a birthday, being 10 months at the time. He had disease progression, which is a relapse while on treatment, that was discovered when he was about 14 months old, and he fought those nasty port infections at 22 months old, not to mention the declining kidney function that caused all the blood pressure issues. We addressed those right before his 2nd birthday. Once we moved, we were greeted with the news that he had that lesion on his liver that looked suspicious. But then it was scar tissue, basically nothing. So that was a bit before age 2.5, and by age 3 he was off treatment.
So I guess this is the first birthday that we're a little further removed from cancer world. Only one ER visit this year for The Boy, and this one was a low-priority type of visit. No hospitalizations, no major health issues...just the hearing aids, and I remember saying that if our biggest concern is how this kid will handle hearing aids, then we're doing just fine.
This was the first week with Musical Daddy back at work. A few bumps in the road as we have been trying to settle in, and we'll still need some time to get used to things as preschool starts next week, but overall, we're fine. I'm just thrilled that he's got work. I'm looking forward to having a bit of time to get chores done and to exercise. And practice.
And that day just happened to be The Boy's 4th birthday. Although there was no bloggy celebration, the information showed up on Facebook and, of course, we had some cake.
This is, of course, a big deal. Every birthday for The Boy is a slightly bigger deal, because he had to fight harder just to see any birthdays at all. He was diagnosed with cancer before he'd even had a birthday, being 10 months at the time. He had disease progression, which is a relapse while on treatment, that was discovered when he was about 14 months old, and he fought those nasty port infections at 22 months old, not to mention the declining kidney function that caused all the blood pressure issues. We addressed those right before his 2nd birthday. Once we moved, we were greeted with the news that he had that lesion on his liver that looked suspicious. But then it was scar tissue, basically nothing. So that was a bit before age 2.5, and by age 3 he was off treatment.
So I guess this is the first birthday that we're a little further removed from cancer world. Only one ER visit this year for The Boy, and this one was a low-priority type of visit. No hospitalizations, no major health issues...just the hearing aids, and I remember saying that if our biggest concern is how this kid will handle hearing aids, then we're doing just fine.
This was the first week with Musical Daddy back at work. A few bumps in the road as we have been trying to settle in, and we'll still need some time to get used to things as preschool starts next week, but overall, we're fine. I'm just thrilled that he's got work. I'm looking forward to having a bit of time to get chores done and to exercise. And practice.
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