Pride

Today's word is Pride.

Not pride in the, "I'm so awesome," boastful kind of way, but rather, pride as in the "I did something that was overcoming an obstacle and I'm so proud I did it" way.

T2's been dancing the hula with a group for almost a year now.  She's a natural.  Man, I can't believe how she can move her hips.  I am filled with pride every time I watch her dance.  When she started, I would sit during the class and bring a book to read while it was going on, but I could never focus on my reading. I found myself mesmerized by the women in the group.  The dance looked so fun, and the music was infectious.

In November, I started dancing with my daughter.  I asked her first, if she thought it would be fun to have me in the group.  That we could do the dances together, practicing in the evenings.  She was thrilled by this concept.  Better grab onto this now, I thought.  She's going to be a teenager soon enough, and she would be mortified if I wanted to dance with her.  Now or never.  I thought, I've been watching for months; I can do this.  No way, y'all.  It's way harder than it looks.  It took me a while to get the steps.  The hands, hips, and feet all do different things.  While I'm not very good at it, I have a great time doing it.  It makes me feel so alive to move my body like that, a body whose image I've struggled with all my life.  I'm not the dancer type, you see.  Big and stocky, not long and lean like my daughter.  But hula--hula I can do.

And today was the big test of my confidence.  I danced with the group today for the first time in front of an audience.  Once the music started, I hit my stride.  I found myself beaming both inside and out. I was so proud of myself for going for something that I don't look perfect doing, but about which I feel very passionate. 

In the first clip, T2's second from the right.  In the second clip, I'm the tall, stocky one, next to the man in the back, and T2's the little girl on the right.  I'm thinking that this experience, for however long it lasts until one of us loses interest (T2?), is making a life long memory for T2 and I to share. 





I am proud.

Broadening the Focus

Soccer coach to T1:

"You played really well today; you just need to focus more."

Karate sensei to T1:

"Hey, pay attention! You've got to focus or you'll be doing push ups!"

Cub scout "robotics" club coordinator to T1:

"You're on the right track; you just need to focus."

Me to T1 every night when he goes to bed:

"You really worked hard today at soccer/karate/robotics.  You finished more than you thought you would.  You learned something new, and you tried more than you did last time.  I am proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself."

I'm working on broadening the focus.  It's not what he can't do and needs to do better, but what he is doing and progress he's making.  It's about all of him.  T1 is not defined by how well he can hone in on one thing and make it the center of his attention.  He is a many faceted human being whose attention to detail is scientific, whose sense of humor is intoxicating, and whose physical movement is whimsical.  I won't let him go to sleep thinking he is incapable of that one thing that appears so important to the grown up world but often eludes him.  And while I know he can't always focus, I can help him get there with loving reminders about what he's doing right and how he's moving in the right direction.  There's so much more to him, and I intend to make sure he knows it.

Music is Fun--If You Get to Make It

My sister and brother-in-law are musicians.  Between the two of them, they have a dozen albums, play in multiple bands, and run a recording studio.  Ever since the twins were toddlers, they've been trying to get them in the studio to record a song.  Trouble is, they really didn't want toddlers in there with all that equipment, fragile guitars and lots of other "attractive nuisances" (a real legal term, according to DG).

Now the kids are definitely old enough, at 8, to try music.  Last weekend when we were there, this is what they came up with:



I know, the song is arguably little kid like, but come on! They performed all the instruments (except for rhythm guitar and bass, masterfully recorded by Uncle D).  It was so fun watching T1 go through the song, concentrating on his bass drum, making sure that he hit it hard enough, but not too hard.  His eyes focused on my hand waving down each time he was to hit; he held his mouth in a little, intense smirk, keeping his brain in only one place.

T2 was the consummate lead singer.  When we listened to the playback, she kept saying, "I just want to make sure it sounds perfect."  They did 2 live takes and a couple of over-dubs to put in the lead guitar, snare drum, and background vocals.  What an amazing, creative experience for them.

My brother-in-law is thinking of offering this kind of workshop for kids in the Bay Area.  I say, heck yeah.  Get those kids in the studio.  It's not music class like piano or violin, clarinet or flute, but it's having a vision, creating the components of that vision, and watching it all come together in a finished piece in a few hours. And it's FUN. Kids should be having fun.  And they don't have to be perfect at it to create something beautiful and memorable for themselves.

The Supercharged Family Road Trip

Oh, the family road trip.  I remember it oh so fondly wearily from my own childhood.  Mom packed weeks of well-thought out games, books, stories and activities so that we wouldn't lose our minds staring out the window at miles and miles of flat land and a few scattered cows.  Despite all those little extras, things meant to stimulate and occupy a kid for hours, I hated the road trip.  I always got car sick, couldn't really read, was bored out of my mind, and eventually ended up goofing around so wildly with my siblings that Mom and Dad would end up with a one-arm-over-the-seat cry of, "If I have to come back there...." 

Well things are different now.  Welcome to the 21st Century road trip ala Grateful Twin Mom.  Here's how we do it these days.  Wired in.  That's right; you heard me.  Plugged in, dialed in, each with his or her own little screen or headphones.  Not talking to each other--not commenting on scenery--not yelling, crying, or complaining.  T1 and T2 got iPads (for their birthday/Hanukkah/Christmas for-the-rest-of-their-lives) from an extraordinarily benevolent aunt and uncle.  Whole music libraries, math games, Angry Birds (enough said), 5 movies, and 3 chapter books (including A.A. Milne's Winnie the Pooh) provide enough entertainment for weeks, let alone a few hours up I-5 in one super cool laptop device.  DG and I listen to audiobooks on iPods and occasionally, DG will blast E Street Radio on the satellite radio (loves him some Bruce Springsteen).  But when we're plugged in, it's silent in the car.

Now I know the experts feel that screen time is detrimental for kids (twins are 8 now), especially young ones, and that little brains are marred permanently by too much exposure to video images (whether educational or not).  I know that confined spaces are supposed to provide great, built-in opportunities for interacting--commiseration for the shared cramped experience and all, but somehow, this seems better to me.  No one asks me, "Are we there yet?" or "Can we stop? I'm thirsty."  A well-stocked snack bag, bottles of water, and one or two bathroom breaks and we all arrive at our destination happy, still in love with each other and excited to be where we are instead of weary from the trip.

So I ask you, are a few extra hours of screen time too high a price to pay for such satisfaction on arrival? Will there be increased melt downs because of the change in brain chemistry from too many hours with an electronic device? Are there microwaves and radiation seeping their way into my children's bloodstreams because of extra exposure?  I worry about all of this.  But part of being a parent is letting go of the fear that makes us second guess EVERYTHING and just being.  The supercharged, plugged in road trip is just another way that we are just living. 

And while I wonder how all this will affect my children as they grow, I'm guessing when they're grown and look back on the family road trip, they won't be lamenting Mom's angry voice telling them to be quiet and settle down.  That's what I'm wishing.

Okay, gotta go charge all my electronic toys. We're on the road in 2 hours....
 

The Key to Good Study Skills for Kids? Less Homework

There is a tremendous amount of controversy surrounding public education and who's responsible for today's failings kids.  Is it teachers? (the documentary Waiting for Superman faults teacher's unions).  Is it lack of funds? (in California, K-12 education has been cut beyond needing a tourniquet and there doesn't seem to be an end in sight).  Is it parents? (working parents are too busy to get involved in their children's education).  Then there is the other side of the controversy.  Kids who are over-scheduled and stressed out are facing tremendous consequences of burn out as they strive to be the best, have the highest SAT scores, take the most AP courses, and get into the top colleges.  The documentary Race To Nowhere addresses this citing homework policies that have kids working for 6 hours a day or more as contributing to the problem. The film also says that teaching to the test, and teaching kids how to take a test, is not giving them the critical thinking skills that they will need to succeed in college or life.

As a college teacher, I see this manifested in two ways.  Many of my students are unfocused, unprepared, and unmotivated.  Definitely a product of a failing education system.  On the other hand, I see students who are trying to balance more than one job and a family while trying to gain an education to advance beyond their current life and the lives their parents had.  They are tired and careless.  They can't focus.


I think about this a lot with regard to my own kids who, in second grade, while still relatively new to the public education system, are already showing a tendency toward patterns that could stick with them for the life of their education.


T1 wants to get his homework over with.  Just today, he asked me, "Why do we have to do the same thing week after week?" They do about 2 worksheets a day as well as writing spelling words 5 times each twice a week.  "It's boring," he says.  I understand the idea of repetition as a way to reinforce concepts and to practice skills, but this is the same work he's doing in class.  It's mega-repetition to the point of boredom.


T2 has the opposite opinion about the homework.  She almost always turns it into a game for herself.  Today, she pretended to be a teacher and gave a lesson on the homework to her doll.  She enjoys doing it and creates similar work for herself when she doesn't have homework.  I believe she has the intrinsic motivation that makes a life long learner. 


Homework is part of education.  Lifelong learners are constantly seeking answers to questions long after their formal education is done.  They practice homework simply because they are never done learning.  Homework and studying are how lifelong learners get to be lifelong learners.

Then again, there is research from Duke University by Harris Cooper that shows that there is no skills reinforcement with homework in elementary school.  Children basically know what they need to know from the work they're doing in class.  So why do they do homework?  They have to, right?  How else will they have the skills to study in middle school or high school?  They've got to do something, right?

Our district last year developed a homework policy that is in line with the current research on the subject.  The rule of 10 minutes per day per grade level is currently what my children are expected to do.  We're doing that, but like I said above, it seems like even this 20 minutes needs an overhaul to make it relevant to the child's life and stimulating to their critical thinking sensibility.

I think the answer is elusive.  I try to create more interesting tasks within the required homework, but that's often met with, "Mooommm, we don't have to do that!"  Is the 20 minutes a day workable for my kids?  Absolutely.  Even though I don't know exactly what the magic panacea is to the dull homework, I do know what motivates my kids and I am more than willing to modify the homework to give the kids the unstructured play that will definitely fill their brains.

What's your homework policy?  How do you inspire a love of learning in your children?

What to do with that leftover turkey? Turkey Cookies

Mmmmmm, turkey.  Boy, that leftover turkey has always been a staple of the sandwich, maybe a turkey hash and the occasional shepherd's pie, but leave it to DG to get extra creative with the turkey. 

Turkey Cookies.

I gotta admit, when DG said he was going to make cookies from the leftover turkey, we all mocked him.  "Yeah, right. That sounds gross.  C'mon, Dad, don't do that."  I was envisioning sugar mingling with the turkey meat, and my stomach turned.  But that's not what he had in mind.  Here's DG to tell you all about it.



Those fried turkey "donuts," I gotta admit, were really good.  He processed turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and Brussels Sprouts and made a patty that he fried in olive oil.  I know.  You're welcome.

What are you doing with your leftovers?

Thanksgiving is a time for ..... illness?

I took T1 and T2 shopping with my for the Thanksgiving groceries. It was a crazy and funny time that I had all blogged out in my mind, but then...as I sat down to write....T1 projectile vomited all over his bed.  Lovely.  We're hoping he's not sick, of course.  (He does have a pretty easy gag and vomit reflex--it could just be allergies)  No, no, kids can't get sick!  I've got too much to do.  But he's back in bed now with a bucket next to his head. 

What do you do if you've got a house full of people for the holiday, and your kid gets sick?

Little Boys Are Made Of What?

What's that they say?  Something about worms, and snails, and puppy dog tails?  Whatever.  What I found out today is that little boys are made of an energy source that if harnessed could power all of Los Angeles.  We had T1's Phenomenal Pokemon Party today with 15 boys and about a thousand Pokemon cards.  Throw in a little sugar and it makes for a banner birthday celebration and an exhausting day for parents.

Highlights:

1. Boys can find fun in dirt.

2. Wrestling each other is a mandatory activity

3. Boys can learn the most intricate details of a Pokemon card within 1 minute of being exposed to one.

4. Trading said Pokemon cards is pretty much what they live for.

5. If they are so lucky as to trade Pokemon through an electronic device, all the better.

This pretty much sums it up.  T1 had a great time, and who know that all his friends would be so into this renaissance that Pokemon is having.  Well, I guess he did. 

Discipline and Teamwork Rewarded

We signed up T1 for karate lessons after he spent a summer in a class and found he loved it.  He even said he wanted to skip the summer camp field trip to the circus so he could go to karate class. Fast forward 4 months.  Today, he took the test for the next belt--orange in this case.  He did it. He accomplished the techniques and punches and blocks necessary for moving up to the next level.  I watched him do it and I was so proud.  I love that this squirmy kid, who's often in trouble in class for talking or fooling around, could practice the discipline of karate with a dignity and grace that I knew he had in him all along.  Part of my motive for having him take karate was to teach him the discipline of having to remember much information, pay attention to what is being said (to learn techniques) and to react to what is being done (to counter attacks).  Martial arts are steeped in discipline and focus--and T1's applying some.

Just look at that orange belt!

The day of awards kept on going as we went to the end of the season party for T2's soccer team.  This was a team of girls between 6 and 8 whose skills were a force to be reckoned with on the field.  I'm totally NOT a soccer mom, and I normally find the parents who are screaming at their kids from the sidelines to be annoying at best and abrasive at worst.  But something happened with this team.  I saw this group of girls, who didn't know each other at all 3 months ago, come together as a team to play with each other instead of against each other.  I got caught up, as all the parents did, in the amazing season they had.  Today, as trophies were handed out, the coach said if he could find a way to keep this team together and take them through their childhood, he would.  T2's desire was commensurate with the coach's enthusiasm.  She grew as someone who could get along with others and work together for the goal, not always being the one who needed the glory--a major step for her.

T2 with coach

T2 showed some more maturity today as she had to leave the soccer party early to perform with her hula group.  It's a hard concept for a just 8-year-old to fathom that she had to sacrifice one thing in order to do another.  She wanted to do both.  She honored both commitments and proved to me how committed she is in pretty much everything she does.

Dancing with stones like castanets

 We topped off today's birthday celebration with a dinner trip to a super kitchsy, Polynesian restaurant with oodles of fish tanks and syrupy, sweet flaming drinks that come in  giant bowl with 2-foot straws.

Bahooka, the ship-wreck restaurant

Loving the giant-bowl drinks

Birthday kids with lollipops.  Fish look hungry

Today was a good day.  It's the kind of day I became a parent to have.  I relished spending the day with my family, kids doing what they love to do, and DG and I beaming with pride from the sidelines.  So sweet.

Birthday Week continued

Tonight, I'm working on the details for T1's birthday extravaganza.  Last Sunday's baking party was a huge success, so we hope this Sunday's Pokemon battle will be equally as good.

I'm going to make Pokeball's out of styrofoam balls for the boys to catch their "Pokemon" in.  If you don't have a 7- or 8-year-old boy, you might not know that a Pokeball looks like this:

I've got red spray paint and black electrical tape that I'll paint and wrap around the styrofoam.  This is a project for tomorrow night because tomorrow's day is insane. 

Tomorrow's birthday day looks like this:

T1's schedule:  Leave home for karate studio at 10:30.  Test for orange belt from 11 to 12:15.  Travel to T2's end of the season soccer party to switch into Dad's car to go to his soccer game.  Finish soccer game and go to DesignerCon at the Pasadena Convention Center where our friend is selling his toy line, Sketchbot.  See a movie and go to dinner.  Sleep 'cause 8-year-olds need their rest.

T2's schedule:  Leave home for last soccer game at 10:30.  After game, go to end-of-the-season soccer party at yogurt place.  Arrive at Hula Performance at 1 pm.  Dance for an appreciative audience, and return home to go to DesignerCon to get a Sketchbot.  See a movie; go out to dinner.  Crash into bed after a hard playin' day.

Mom's schedule:  Drive around to all this crap and keep cool, no matter what!

The coincidence that all of our kids' extracurricular activities having major events on the same day near the same time means that DG and I will need to split up.  I won't see T2's last game.  DG won't see T1's karate belt test.  But I guess that's what video tapes are for. 

So while I'm running around and trying to get ready for the party, I hope that we can stay sane.  Thank God birthday week will be over soon.  What's that you say?  Hanukkah is right after that?  Then Christmas after that?  Better get used to this.

And then it got LOUD

Whoever said that girls are sugar and spice and everything nice, never hosted a baking party for 15 little girls.  There was plenty of sweetness, and I'm not just talkin' about the cupcake icing, sprinkles, and caramel apple cider.  But I had no idea how spicy these diminutive, spritely angels could be. 

First order of business?  Strom the hallway to see if they could mess up T1's room, which he had guarded with this:

You can't see it, but the sign says, "Keep Out! Boys Only!

 

 

A sea of screams leapt up and down the hall as they tried to crush the only semblance of a Y chromosome left in the house. 

Their enthusiasm in creating salt dough ornaments was beyond intense.  They were ninja warriors, wielding balls of kneaded dough like nunchucks  The concept of "less is more" was completely lost on their "more, more, more" little girly-ness.  The disks of dough were etched, poked, impaled, and razed so much that some girls needed to start over just to get one on the cookie sheet.

The decibel level really started to rise when the cupcake decorating began.  All of a sudden, when sugar was involved, voices got more shrill, like squawking crows.  "I want chocolate! I need pink frosting! Pass the cherries! I NEED CHOCOLATE!!" Decorating icing, sanding sugar, and sprinkles were pooled all over the table, and not so much on the cupcake.  Ultimately, the girls took to rolling their 2nd and 3rd frosted creations in the dregs of the abandoned sugar not worthy to find its way to the original, more decoration-savvy first cupcake.

And one by one, as they started to leave at the end of the day, the house got quieter and quieter.  DG came home after taking T1 on a playdate away from all the girls, and he said, "Why is the music on so loud?"  "Because it's an 8-year-old's birthday party, and it got LOUD."  That, or it's 1965 and I'm trying to hear it above the screaming for John, Paul, George and Ringo.

But above all, T2 had the time of her life.  She was Queen Bee, with all the drones buzzing around her.  This is her element.  It was all for her--not shared with her twin--not compromised to accommodate other friends or people's feelings.  She could take it all in.  And that's what birthday parties are for. 

I hope she remembers this party when she grows up.  I still remember the cake at my 6th birthday, and I marvel now at how my mom was able to know exactly what I needed to feel special.  T2 was special today, and now, as my ears are still ringing and I can almost feel how good the beckoning bed will feel, I am happy to have made her feel so.

The Business Trip--the Stay-At-Home Version

DG went to Santa Barbara on a business trip yesterday, and while he's only going to be gone overnight (he'll be back today to go to a wedding), I'm reminded of all the reasons why I like a business trip when I go.  The best benefits (working moms, tell me that this is not better than a spa weekend) are staying in a hotel room by yourself, ordering room service so you don't have to actually talk to anyone or have anyone talk to you, catching up on horrible reality TV (last time I was gone, I watched Jerseylicious. I mean, the name alone, right?), and the QUIET--seriously, the quiet to read and write is truly the best part.

But this time, I was the stay-at-home parent.  Seriously, one day is no big deal at all, but there are definitely some pros and cons of being at home as the only parent (of course, single parents do this all the time, and I whole heartedly admire them and their ability to balance).

PRO: I get the whole bed to myself to spread out my books, magazines--maybe a tray with tea.

CON: It's a little disconcerting to turn out the lights at the end of the night knowing I'm the only adult in the house.  Leads me to some irrational fears.  You know, the kind like Michael Myers from Halloween with the hockey mask is lurking at my window?  What?  You don't do that?  See what I mean?  My wild imagination is definitely a con.

PRO: When it's morning, we all get up at the same time.  DG's a late-sleeper.  Seriously, he'd sleep until noon every day if he could.  Okay, maybe 11, but no earlier if he could help it.

CON: The day seems loooooonnnggg when you're you're up early and you're the only adult in the house.  And LOUD.  Did I mention I like it quiet?

PRO: I don't really need to cook.  Somehow, having the whole family home makes me feel more responsible for putting a healthy meal on the table.  Not that I have the time to do it more than about 3 days a week, but when it's just me and the kids, popcorn and a fruit smoothie is a perfectly suitable dinner.

CON: Too much sugar makes that day even longer.

PRO: There's one less person to get out the door.  'nuf said.

CON: I miss having DG here.  We see so little of each other during the week as it is, having him gone over the weekend makes me miss him even more. 

Again, I have no reason to whine when it's only one day.  The pros far out weigh the cons over one day.  Still, I'll be glad when he gets home.  And the kids will too.

I Have an Obligation to Vote

Today is election day.  Last night, I talked about the ballot measures with DG, read some blogs with various picks on the candidates and issues, marked my ballot, and placed it in a place in my work bag that I know will make it out the door.  Ever since I was 18 years old, I have voted in every national primary and general election.  I feel I have an obligation to vote--as a citizen, a woman, an educator, and a mother.

Don't worry. I'm not going to get all political on you.  I would describe myself as not very political at all.  I'm not that person at a party who starts a conversation with, "Can you believe what those yahoos are doing in congress?"  I quietly have my beliefs and try to stay out of the conversation. Except for those ubiquitous bashing political ads.  Hate them.  Kinda makes my stomach turn, and even more detrimental, makes me shut down and become mistrusting.  Political rally-er, I am not.

But if you really think about it, most people practice things in their lives that can be construed as a little political.  As moms, we make decisions about what we're going to feed our children--to breastfeed or not--organic or not.  We make decisions about education--public or private school.  To others around us, these decisions can be seen as a progression of our political agenda. It's based on our values, the way we want our children to have the best lives they can--often better than the lives we've had.  I mean, even as a member of the PTA, I am a part of an organization that lobbies for children and good education practices.  As moms, we are our children's best proponents.

As a college professor, I try to let my students know that voting is one of the most important things they can do to advance their own beliefs.  So many of my students in the suburban community college where I work feel like voting is something they don't feel qualified to do.  They're just 18.  They don't understand the propositions or the smear campaigns of the candidates (well, let's face it--who does?).  And I tell them that is precisely the point of college.  To learn about their world and to have a say in its future.  They say, "But no matter what I say, politicians are going to do whatever they want, so voting or not--it doesn't matter."  Arrggghh, I sigh.  Apathy.  No, no, no.  Imagine what leaders might do if you did not have a voice.  Voting assures that differing opinions are brought to everyone.  Your voice matters.

I read a quote by Thomas Paine that says, "Those who expect to reap the blessings of freedom must undergo the fatigue of supporting it."  Fatigue means work.  The suffragists were tireless in their efforts.  As a woman, I feel I owe it to them to learn about a campaign and vote.  I have a responsibility to support my freedom and the right that they fought so hard to gain.

So today, when I pick up my kids, we'll march over to the polling booths, place the ballot in the little hole-puncher-thingy (I know, I think that's the official name for it), and fulfill my obligation.  Whatever the outcome of the election, I feel good knowing that I am modeling good citizenship for my children.  Who knows, I might even hand over that little "I Voted" sticker to them.

The Joys of October

Just to recap--my trip to Lake Tahoe earlier this month with my sister was wonderful.  I always get so much out of being with her.  I'm reminded of when we were kids and had nothing but time to play together.  The scenery in Lake Tahoe was beautiful.  And my sister's dog, Little Hawk took in every part of it.

The view outside the cabin

Crazy how we have the twins-y hair cuts, no?

Ok, show of hands, how many think this is the cutest dog EVER?

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This has been a relatively cool October in Southern California.  I am perpetually confounded by the weather lately, as October, in the recent past, has been extraordinarily hot.  But this year, I’ve been breaking out the Crockpot, wearing sweaters, and driving in the rain—an extreme sport in Southern California.  The weather definitely is getting me in the mood for Halloween.  

Usually, beginning in early September, when the costume catalogs start showing up in the mailbox, we trek on down to the party store, peruse the wall of adorable looking children in cute looking costumes, and the kids point ecstatically, “that one, that one!” 

Down comes the industrial plastic bag with a handle fused to the top, and the kids extract the crappy acetate, shoddily constructed, ill-fitting costume with many ooohs and aahhhs.  From me, it’s more like ewwwws and ooohhhs.  How could this possibly be the same as that picture on the wall?  I don’t know why I’m surprised, but the quality of the packaged costume is never as good as I think it’s going to be.  

That’s why, this year, I worked on persuading my kids to go with the homemade Halloween costume.  Oh, I know this means work for me, and as a mom who has a job that I have to go to everyday, this presents the age old dilemma of how do I find enough time to do this.  Well, here’s my mindset on time lately…..

You can find the time to do anything if you really want to do it.  So I set out to make Halloween costumes in my spare time.  I had to start in September, but I think it's finally come together.

T1 wants to be Voldemort (you know, the most villainous of all villains--He Who Must Not Be Named).  So I figured, easy; some robes, some scary make-up and we're done.  We were going for this:

I made this:

Not to be out-Harry-Potter-ed, T2 decided to be Hermione.  I found this cute photo of the "smartest witch of her age" and decided to copy this:

 

We had the robe and Gryffindor tie from last year when T1 was the ubiquitous boy wizard.  So it was fairly easy to put together this:

The scarf is tucked behind the shoulder on account of the fact that it is still not done.  Super cute knitted scarf takes a loooong time!

I was having so much fun making costumes, that I decided to keep on going.  What's a few more, when you're already on a roll?  

We had tickets to Mickey's Halloween Party at Disneyland.  It's a costume party, trick-or-treating extravaganza inside Disneyland Park that runs through October.  So really, it's like Halloween night every night.  Our kids literally came home with SIX pounds of candy.  I kid you not.  DG said, with the same tone as the proverbial "walked-to-school-in-the-snow" speech, "When I was a kid, we went trick-or-treating once--on Halloween."  

Well, if you're trick-or-treating twice, you need two costumes, right?  I made us into a pirate family.

DG got the pirate vest and pirate bustiers at the 99 cent store.  I coupled them with striped tights and made raggedy pants and skirts.  T1 didn't want to wear the paper 99 cent store vest, and I can't say that I blame him, so I cut that skull and crossbones from an old, white T-shirt and sewed it on the red one.  He loved it!

I'm still so shocked that I had the gumption to make all these costumes, but now that it's all done, and we're really for Halloween, I am pleased with myself.  Not only did I accomplish something I set out to do, rather than scrapping the projects with a defeatist "Oh well, I didn't have time to do this anyway," but also I rekindled that DIY, homemade part of myself that so rarely gets let out these days.  Being creative feeds my soul, and while there is an element of creativity in my job everyday, it's nice to make something with my hands and soak in the gratitude when the kids say, "Thank you, Mommy! I love this costume!" (No really, I'm not lying--they both said that. *shock*)

Kinda makes me want to get ready for the next project.  Do you think maybe they'll need costumes for the school Holiday show? 

Toppling Plates Revisited

So the balance theme continues to permeate my posts, and sometimes, I gotta say, I find it so redundant.  I mean EVERY mom deals with this, right?  Meanwhile, maybe that's why it gets so much attention--because we all deal with it.  As an older mom, I had a lifetime of experience before I had kids.  When your life changes so dramatically, and you keep trying to have parts of the old life peppered into the new one, there's going to be some roadblocks.  I'm getting more creative in navigating roadblocks and finding detours that I didn't even know existed.

I took some actions last week to try to get past my roadblocks and find fulfillment in my varied life. (I know--this is a quality problem--sometimes I feel like I don't even have a right to complain because my life is so blessed, but here goes anyway.)

First, I wanted to try going offline for a while. No reading and commenting on blogs, no Twitter (okay--that one's easy to fit in, so I only stayed away from that for 3 days), no Facebook.  I found I was focused and productive in my job and present with my children.  I was in mono-tasking mode.  Felt very old school, but strangely rewarding--for a time.

I assessed things that are important to me.  Is it important that my kids get to every single soccer practice or dance class in the week?  Not really.  What is important to me is taking care of myself physically, emotionally, and creatively.  I have one of those unfortunate, narcissistic personality traits of wanting other people to see me as a vibrant and valuable participant in all I do.  In all the roles of my life--wife, mother, professor, blogger, crafter, writer, cook, and volunteer--I want people to see that I'm doing a good job.  And while this has always been important to me, I am starting to shift toward seeing what I do as good enough for me regardless of what anyone else thinks.

I made a schedule.  In order to fit in everything I want to do in my day, I had to come to the realization that I can't do everything everyday.  It's got to be compartmentalized.  Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday-- work out.  Tuesday, Thursday, Friday--writing.  Like that.  Scheduling is what I hound down my students' throats on a daily basis.  It's about time I tried it myself.

I forgave myself.  I can't be all things to all people.  I'm a perfectionist, and trying to stay the perfect everything is exhausting and demoralizing.  I downsizing my big personality.

I don't know how long this new "c'est la vie" attitude will last, but I'm going to keep working on it.

"Mr. D, your house is on fire!"

"Hang up and call 911! I'm on my way" were the words I heard my husband scream as I was on the other line with his assistant last Tuesday.  "The housekeeper called," the assistant said.  "Your house is on fire."

Shock. Stumble.  No.  It can't be.  There must be some mistake.  This can't be happening.  I hung up the phone and went back in my office.  "I think I need to go home," I quietly said as my co-workers started to rally me out the door.

These are not the words that you're ever supposed to hear.  Disaster is something that befalls other people, and you sympathize, you send aid, you help them recover, but it doesn't happen to you.  In my mind's eye, as I tried coolly to drive, I could see the flames melting my children's toys, my computer, all the memories of my life in photo albums and irreplaceable heirlooms.  I imagined being homeless, trying to explain to my children when they came home from school that we'd rebuild our life, that this was a way for a fresh start.  We'd be okay.  Then I thought it can't be that bad.  Stop going to the darkest, bleakest possibility.  After all, the fire department was already on its way.  The fire would be out by the time I got home.

I called DG.  He sighed, "It's okay, the fire's out.  Just get home and we'll deal with what we have to deal with."

I pulled up to my house as the fire engine was pulling away.  I've seen this in the movies before; the main character drives down her street like she's done a million times before and sees the fire truck in front of her house.  The same pit in my stomach rose into my throat.  I tried to keep from crying.

DG and my housekeeper were in the garage.  Burned debris was all over the driveway.  Water pooled in places and trickled down into the gutter.  "Thank God you're okay," I whimpered as I threw down my things and embraced my long-time housekeeper, the woman who brings gifts for my children every new year on 3 Kings day as is the custom in her country, Mexico, the woman who has been a part of our family for 15 years.  "I tried to put it out, but when I put water on it, it got bigger."

"Thank you for saving our house," I said.

We were amazingly lucky.  The fire burned a pile of things we were storing by the side of our house.  An old dog crate, some toddler high chairs that attach to the table, boxes, potting soil, planting pots and mulch.  As the flames rose up the wall and over the roof, they only burned external items.  The electric meter was burned, the tankless water heater was fried, and a ceiling spot light in the eaves was melted, but nothing structural was damaged.  The fire was against the wall and never entered the house. 

The fire department did a thorough investigation.  They went into the attic and took temperature measurements.  Our electrician came out and checked our circuit breakers that turned off during the fire, saving the house from an electrical fire.  The house was fine.  We were fine.  In a matter of 20 minutes from the time the fire started to the time it was out, we were fine.

How could this have happened?  I wondered about all the junk I piled into that space, never once thinking that it could be dangerous.  The fire department thinks a spark might have charged from a battery we had stored there for an electric scooter (you know, the kind that's like a wheelchair we used when my mom visited when she could still walk a little).  Maybe it was from the potting soil or fertilizer.  Just a hot patch with a piece of glass that caught the sun just right on the pile of what I now know was kindling?  We'll never know.  They put the cause as "indeterminate." 

Our lives could have been irreversibly changed by an "indeterminate" cause.  The possibility of what could have happened was infinitely worse than what did.  DG and I followed nearer each other for the rest of the day.  I hugged the children a little tighter when I picked them up from school.  I thanked our housekeeper again and again for her quick thinking.  If she hadn't been there...if this had happened on a Monday or Wednesday when we were at work....

But it didn't.  The forces in the universe that make things happen when they do must have been looking out for us.  Call it God or whatever you want, something went right that day, and I am so grateful.

And the Camp Mom Award for Engaged Kids goes to Team Twins!

One of the best benefits of my job as a professor is having summers off (mostly--I usually have to work for 6 weeks of it) with my kids.  It means that I don't have to scramble to find some stimulating activity for them from the 3rd week in June until September 1st.  Here's where it gets complicated though.  Since I do have to work a little in the summer AND my semester begins at the wildly inconvenient time of the 3rd week in August, I do have to put the kids in some kind of part-time summer activity day camp.  This year, they did summer school and camp through the local school district and seemed to have a really good time.

Summer is almost over and the kids will be heading back to school with what I hope are sweet memories of our travels, fun days at summer day camp, and time at home with each other and me.  As a working mom, I always look forward to the time I get at home with them.  I get to be a stay-at-home mom for a sweet month.  And I always dream that this time will be filled with crafts and art projects, baking and swimming and card-playing.  Instead, I'm distracted by my own desire to read or sew or edit photos--write a blog, maybe.  It's mind boggling how I can want to be with them so badly, and when we are together for a day, I struggle with giving them my undivided attention.

Cut to 7-year-old twins being silly, ramping each other up, getting critical about who is getting what turn, and then, ultimately, trying to kill each other from the togetherness.  Quick, Mom, do something!!!! It's time to engage (like Elastigirl says to Mr. Incredible).

Enter Camp Mom.  I thought if I could replicate all the fun of camp at home and give the kiddies some purpose for the time together, we'd all have a better summer.  I came up with a schedule of activities for the whole day.  Campers had to tidy up their "cabins" (rooms), pick a team mascot (stuffed animal), and create a team song to perform during the night time "campfire."  We had a scooter race, obstacle course, scavenger hunt (otherwise know as shopping at Trader Joe's).  They created cards for their grandfather, something I had begged them to do for days, that they were finally willing to do under the guise of the "Bon Voyage Boat Craft" at Camp Mom.

At the end of Camp Mom, teams were awarded "Trophies" that they had helped design.

There were a few teachable moments during the day.  The team competitions really had them in a frenzy over fairness.  Having points awarded based on being the fastest or jumping the farthest taught them about sportsmanship (after a considerable amount of crying).  Creativity points were awarded to the most thoughtful mascot decoration or "cabin" arrangement, presenting them with a stronger sense of perseverance and attention to detail. T1 said at one point, "I was having so much fun that I forgot that I hadn't played my DS!" Really?  You mean I can get your face out of that machine by providing you with a creative endeavor that speaks to your sense of competition?  Why had I never tried this before?

More than the success of Camp Mom as far as the kids were concerned, (trophies! field trips! treats!) was the complete sense of engagement with each other.  I got what I had been looking for all summer. While I know that this wasn't rocket science, and that creative moms do stuff like this everyday, for me, it was a triumph over the anxiety that sometimes takes over when I try to figure out how I'm going to be with my kids and accomplish all the things that fulfill me at the same time.  I gave myself over completely to the nurturing of these children, without the distraction of the work that I wanted to get done, for this one day, and it felt right.

While we were at the park, me orchestrating an obstacle course race, another parent commented on what we were doing.  "That's quite a system you've got going there.  Have you been doing this all summer?"  I laughed.  "Are you kidding?" I said, "we've only been doing this for today!"  But for that one day, we were a unit--like a real camp.  We had a common goal--to have fun together--and that we did. 

Think I should put together Camp Mom for this fall?  Hmmmm.

Romance Revisited -- With Kids!

Ten years ago, I went on a trip to Michigan with my then boyfriend to visit his family and see where he grew up.  We traveled to Mackinac Island and stayed at the Grand Hotel where he proposed in the Rosalind Carter suite.

My life changed so much in that moment.  I was already pushing middle age, and thought that marriage and kids were just not going to be for me.  I had begun to wrap my head around the fact that I'd "mother" all my students and that would be enough.  But in that moment when that ring went on my finger, I felt a sense of serenity, hope, and home that comes from knowing that you are truly loved, unconditionally, and that someone wants YOU to be the one to share life's biggest moments.  We held hands at dinner that night and contemplated our future.

Ahh new love--just engaged and looking kinda scared.

DG said that night, "Someday, we'll bring our kids here."  Swoon.  This was exactly what I wanted--to have a family to make memories with.  When we left the island, we swore that we'd return and show our kids the enchanting, horse-drawn, "somewhere in time" place that was the setting of one of the most memorable times in our lives.

So fast forward 10 years.  With twins.  It's like this:  Romantic Island + kids - 10 married-life years = a decidedly different experience.

BEFORE -- Romantic Dinner in the Grand Hotel Dining Room when we could dream about our future and gaze lovingly at each other in the beautiful surroundings.

AFTER -- Okay, we still got to do this one.  They have a Kid's Club at the Grand Hotel where they have a children's activity from 6 to 9 in the evening, allowing Mom and Dad to go to the dining room sans ones who will make them sticky.

Quite a bit older now, huh?

 

 

BEFORE -- We took a leisurely bike ride the 8.2 miles around the island and took in the sites.  The island is home to several spectacular, Victorian mansions, known as summer "cottages" that were used by wealthy families in the late 1800s as summer homes away from the midwest.  The shore of the lake and the view of the Mackinac Bridge to the west are beautiful.  I looked out and saw Arch Rock and horse-drawn carriages, and other romantic couples gazing at each other from atop bikes that slowly meandered around the road.

AFTER -- Our kids have been practicing riding 2-wheelers since last summer in preparation for this bike ride.  And they were ready.  We set out at 9 am.  By 9:05, the whining had ensued.  "I'm hot, pedaling's hard, let's take a break."  When we got rolling again, there was no stopping them.  Gone was the scenery.  My eyes were glued to the kid in front of me who weaved back and forth across the road, barely missing on-coming traffic, which was sometimes a carriage pulled by a Clydesdale.  DG and I were constantly harping ahead of us, "Slow down! Stay to the right! Watch out for people! Let your sister be in front for a while!"

BEFORE --We visited the quaint downtown area of Mackinac Island and admired the work of local artisans.  Mostly paintings of the Grand Hotel or the bridge.  We carefully touched whatever we wanted and engaged gallery owners in conversations about the island's charms.

AFTER -- I saw every visit to an art gallery as an exercise in hovering--hovering to make sure the blown glass didn't get knocked over when T2 started practicing her dance moves; hovering to keep T1's grubby little hands from man-handling and smudging; hovering and herding them through the stores, like an Australian Shepherd.  I had to decide which tacky piece of Mackinac swag I was willing to pay $18 for--the hard, plastic horse with carmelly velvet glued to its body that T2 promptly christened "Goldie" or the caricature t-shirt that says, "Mackinac Island--Powered by Horse Poop!"  "But Mom," T1 says, "It's funny, get it?"

BEFORE -- Mackinac Island is known for its sweet shops, particularly fudge.  The fudge from the island is famous, and it's in a million shops all along the main boulevard.  We wandered in and out of each one, sampling "exotic" flavors like toffee peanut butter and raspberry dream.  We bought a pound, carefully wrapped it up and had a tiny taste each day of the trip.

AFTER -- The candy pushers stand in the front of each shop luring in unsuspecting kids with promises of candy beyond their wildest dreams.  The whole of downtown has a wafting odor of chocolate, with a little manure cloying for good measure.  The kids had fudge, salt-water taffy and ice cream all in the course of an hour.  Then we asked them to calm down and get dressed in their "fancy" clothes for dinner in the Grand Hotel, which requires its guests to dress formally in the lobby after 6 pm.  Jackets and ties for the gentleman and dresses for the ladies.  Trying to get kids to dress when they're hopped up on sugar is a feat like wrestling tigers--I kid you not!

BEFORE -- Ahh, after the 5-course meal, a long stroll through the lazy town at dusk is exactly what the romance doctor ordered with a tailor made sunset to solidify the deal.

AFTER -- S'MORES!!

So was it different coming back to Mackinac with the kids that we'd dreamed of 10 years before? Absolutely. Traveling with kids is hard.  Raising kids is hard.  Working is hard.  And at the end of the day, I get to have the beautiful vacation, and the home, and the career that I love.  I sometimes forget in the whirlwind that is my life to remember how lucky I am that I get to have all of this.  It's different, but light years better than what I had before.  And I wouldn't change a thing.