Easter 2023

 We skipped the baskets. 

We never have really been the fake grass and bunnies everywhere family. This year we skipped Cadbury eggs (they were out at the store. They put them out too early - but that's another story) and went light on the candy - don't ask how much we have left from Halloween. 

Sometimes though, the memories are made outside. 

The sun was shining and burned off the frost. The wind wasn't blowing. The bright sheen of spring warmth (the hint of it anyway) was making its mark on this particular Easter Sunday. 

So, the Easter Bunny decided that the egg hunt should be outside. It wasn't complicated, it wasn't widely spread out. EB didn't bother hiding the eggs too well. But the smiles and the sunshine ... and the memories. 

That's what made the day. 

Yes, a lot of them were easy. And yes, the big kids held back until Jeff had his 7 eggs. We still had one egg that was a little harder to find. It turns out, everyone walked past it at least once (except Harper). 

This was an adventure. A five minute trek outside to wander in the sunshine. A treasure hunt for Mandalorian and Frozen themed eggs. The candy may never get eaten, but the memories will remain. 

POV: COVID and Kindergarten

 Dear 2nd grade teacher,

Do you remember you are teaching 7-year-olds?

Well, let me tell you about mine. Recently, you repeatedly told your students that "this was kindergarten stuff" and they should know it. Well I can't speak for the others, but Jeffrey never attended Kindergarten. Why?

Because the year he was supposed to start his school adventure, getting a new backpack and sneakers and getting on a big yellow bus - was the year that COVID hit in March.

By August, the plan was to have all the students wear masks all day and sit with clear plastic dividers around them. They weren't going to get to run in gym - or they were but with masks on - and they had to sit far apart at lunch. No giggling in small groups, figuring out how to make friends and sit close together on the carpet for story hour.

These kids were isolated in a room together.

No thank you.

You see, Jeffrey had some communication issues early on, and at age 3 we had to have him evaluated for the autism spectrum. In order to complete those tests, I had to take a child who said maybe 20 words to an office in our local high school, where he proceeded to hide under the desk and then scream. He refused to identify objects he knew, and I'm not sure how many were just completely foreign.

Somehow, through a specialized pre-school program, Jeffrey began to speak. He would identify objects and interact with his siblings without scratching or screaming in frustration. We all began to understand his personality, and he realized the world was opening up.

At age 4, life changed for our family and he wasn't able to continue attending preschool. He had completely come out of his shell, spoke full sentences (albeit with some impediments) and was enjoying life. We did our best to keep him learning at home, and he became receptive to reading and playing games where we could teach him things at home.

This little guy found the world challenging when it was traditional. When COVID hit, the whole ball game changed from basketball to curling - and he was not prepared to be set up in this environment. At a time when he was supposed to learn all the social cues like standing in line, being quiet when told while in a large group of children, and otherwise behaving in a school setting - he was also going to be required to stop being an inquisitive, impulsive six-year-old to avoid spreading covid.

The year Jeffrey was born, his older brother went to Kindergarten for the first time. We all spent the entire year sick because - germs, and kids, and impulsive 6-year-olds.

Our family had not had covid yet. We didn't know what to expect. So, Jeffrey skipped Kindergarten. It isn't mandatory, you know. Well, it wasn't. It is now.

Yes, tons of kids spend years in daycare, preschool, and straight to kindergarten. Jeffrey didn't.

Anyway, let's jump forward again, shall we? To today.

To you teaching 7-year-olds like they should be keeping planners and scheduling out their lunch hour. To repeatedly telling them what they should be doing to your expectations - rather than TEACHING them to do things at their age level and capacity to understand.

Our son has easily 5 hours of work to do once he is done with 5 hours in front of the computer. He's learning to type, learning social cues and when to talk (everyone talks when the teacher leaves the room, so save your 10-minute lecture for yourself in the mirror because that's a normal behavior) AND he's supposed to be learning english and math and social studies - that there's a big world out there with 7 continents and animals and people that come in a variety of shapes, colors, and attitudes.

He should be playing with toys and watching his favorite YouTuber (they all have these now) or petting his cat. He shouldn't have to spend 10 hours a day at his computer in 2nd grade.

My son sounds out words in an impressive way, is working on spelling like the champ I know he is, and has a vocabulary that continues to surprise me. He works out math problems on his fingers or a timeline and is learning about metamorphosis (yep, he knows that word already). He watched beans grow roots in a plastic bag on the window and was thrilled.

He reads and learns complex concepts to regulate his emotions - something that the rest of the household can learn from him some days.

Can we NOT ruin his school experience at age 7?

COVID already tried that. We are trying to salvage what we can. Brick and mortar doesn't work for our family at this point, so we are doing our best with online school. Help us give him the love of learning we are striving to build in him. Please. 

Potty Training: The Sign Couldn't Be More Clear

I have four children. The oldest is nine. We obviously have not had to deal with puberty or the teenage acting out yet, but we are ¾ of the way through one of the dreaded milestones: potty training. If you have a child and live in the modern world, at some point you are going to have to transition from diapers to using the toilet. Some people start way early with elimination communication, which is basically reading your infant and making sure they are in the bathroom before things start flowing. I personally was never a supporter of that method. We make enough messes, thank you.

Potty Training is my Kryptonite

When it comes to potty training, I can honestly say it has been a struggle every time. I try to find the right way to communicate with each child. For the oldest, the trick ended up being sending her to her aunt's house. This is because she wanted to be like her older cousin, so she followed her to the bathroom, copied her and never went back to using pull-ups. This was on her third birthday, and I felt like I got the best gift out of the lot. My second child is a boy. I figured that was going to be tougher, since I don't have the parts to appropriately teach him. However, we got to the point I knew he had all of the parts of process down, but he was still wetting underwear or pull-ups. Whatever we put on him, he would just pee whenever he felt the urge. He didn't make a move to go to the bathroom. Why? Well, he was intensely interested in whatever he was doing and did not want to stop to go to the bathroom. This was particularly true of his technology – a Nabi tablet and a cell phone that did not have service specifically that had a few games on it to play. Therefore, taking away technology and keeping it until he learned to use the bathroom was the secret. He had maybe one accident after he started wearing underwear. Removing the distraction was the answer, and being able to get his stuff back was the incentive.

For the third child, I believe it was a mixture of my laziness, too much going on in our lives and a later development of her body to be able to control her bladder. Honestly, I have trouble admitting when I am slacking in certain areas of parental responsibility. However, my third child was three and not making much progress in potty training when her youngest brother was born. That set us back considerably. However, she finally potty trained at the age of four after numerous accidents in underwear. She could go for days with no issue, then have three days in a row with accidents. That was tough to get through, but we managed.

This time, however, may turn out a bit different.

They Say Every Child is Different; Boy, is That True

My youngest is a boy. At 1 ½, he is a very hands-on type of boy, if you know what I mean. His hands are in his diaper whenever he has the opportunity.

It is an issue because it has become a struggle to keep his clothes dry, since things tend to get wet when the diaper isn't where it is supposed to be. On the plus side, he is curious about the process and goes to the bathroom with his dad when he is home. He isn't afraid of the toilet flushing or the bathroom in general. OK, all of that is good. We are getting there; the clues are pointing toward potty training. I am very OK with that. We have had kids in diapers for nine years. I'm ready to be done with that part of parenthood.

Attention Mom: Here Is Your Sign

Yesterday, I realized the time has come. What was my logic? Well, I figure that when he has it out, has it gripped and is distance peeing across the living room floor, aiming for the coffee table – I'm going to take that as a pretty clear sign it is time to teach him there is a place and time for those bodily functions.

So, we're off on the potty training journey once again. Our approach is going to be a potty chair in the living room – a fun one with sounds. He is going to wear pull-ups, since they fall back into place easier when his hands aren't in them anyway. We're going to encourage him to use the potty to sit on and get comfortable with, and in the case that another distance peeing incident occurs, we'll teach him he has a place to use as a target. We are going to regularly encourage him to use the potty when he feels the urge. Hopefully from there, we can eliminate the distance aspect – at least until he gets older. I have seen the commercials, and I imagine my two boys will challenge each other to some version of a distance contest at some point in our lives.

I am hopeful that with his level of interest and the signs all pointing in the right direction, I'll see the light at the end of the diaper-changing tunnel soon. Wish me luck.  

The Third Side of the Coin

I keep seeing posts of ladies who are changing their profile pictures on FB to one of them with their mom. That's great. I'm so happy for them that they are proud to share their moms with the world and give them the recognition they deserve for a job well-done raising these women who are strong and capable successes in their own right, thanks to a great upbringing.

I see women who post about not having a mother on Mother's Day. They lost their mothers far too young to an illness or a tragedy, and my heart breaks for them. They deserve a happier day than to be sad and missing a strong role model that they'd love to spend time with one more time.

However, there is a third side to this coin. This isn't heads or tails. This is the narrow band that splits the two, the edge that the coin balances on with no conclusive ending to the flip. That is where I fall. You see, my mother is still alive. Yet we are coming up on the fourth year of radio silence between us - entirely my choice and one that is not changing anytime soon. I have no intention of posting a happy photo of the two of us. Just like, I have no intention of allowing her to have an influence on my children. Because of my upbringing and her toxic influence, my kids have enough to deal with as I wade through trying to be a more level-headed and better parent than I had. I admit that is easier some days than others.

In August of 2012, my mother - you know, that woman that is supposed to be there for me and help guide me and be proud of who I am - posted on FB that I am a bitch and not her child, that my father raised me. That's after telling me that she KNEW that I couldn't handle raising three children [*gasp* I have FOUR now. They're turning out pretty good] and after throwing a fit on the day of my daughter's birth because I didn't call her fast enough after MY C-SECTION. Now mind you, we had planned for months that she would be at the hospital for the birth, and it was her own mental issues and made-up health issues that prevented that from occurring. However, it became my fault that she didn't know about my daughter's birth on her timeline. Fast forward to July, when she finally came up to meet this oh-so-precious grandchild, and I made a comment about something that happened 22 years before that made her so angry she forced my stepfather to pack up and head south that night instead of two days later as planned. Then, in August, she posts to FB.

Since then, I have gotten phone calls telling me to move past this so she can spend time with her grandchildren. No apology or recognition that she did anything wrong. I have been told by family members that I should "let it go" or "just talk to her".

That isn't how a mother should be. That isn't what I should have to deal with, rather than be proud to share who my mother is. I give credit to my father for helping me become the person I am. Otherwise, I give credit to the mothers of my good friends in my formative years and I take credit for the rest. That may sound arrogant, but I grew up fast starting at age 8 and I made the right choices as I grew and kept myself out of trouble. My mother does not get credit for any of that.

Yes, I mourn a childhood that could have been less stressful and painful. But everyone deals with pain and drama, unexpected upheaval and issues. I am not crying poor me with this. At least, that isn't my intention. I just want to share my perspective on Mother's Day. On having a mother that is living but no intention to spend time with her - not even over the phone.

I made the decision four years ago to protect my children from a negative influence and attempt to be a parent that prevents as much pain and frustration as possible. My decision came when my then four-year-old said, "Why can't we see Grandma today? Is she sick again?" My little girl already had the routine down - promises of fun activities that get postponed and eventually canceled altogether because of a migraine, a round of fibromyalgia or a feigned illness because you made her mad with a comment or other action that went against her idea of how things should be. I get migraines - they're genetic and I got them from both parents.

I can't stop having migraines. My children have to deal with my migraines. They aren't going to be disappointed by a grandparent that lives five states away so they barely see her as it is. They aren't going to have someone in their lives that threatens to call them by a name she prefers rather than by their given name because she doesn't approve of the name they were given - yep, she did that too.

Tomorrow is Mother's Day. I will wake up with my children and spend the day with them. We won't be calling my mother. We didn't send a package or a card. I barely talk to my brothers and don't like family members knowing my phone number or address because I don't want her to have them. I prefer the peace of not having communication lines open. I prefer the way I am able to handle life more objectively without her influence. I prefer our lives without her input.

Like I said, I fall on the Third Side of the Coin.

... and then there were 4

A Walk Along Memory Lane

I was blessed to become part of Thing 1's life when she was one. She turned me into a mom, dropped me in the deep end and I've been there ever since. I love her even though we struggle. And we struggle because she is my mini me from looks to attitude - and everything in between. She is enough of her father to keep us both guessing - and she is 100% her own person at the same time.

Thing 2 is a spitfire. From the time he could babble, he commanded attention and amazed everyone around him. He makes a new friend wherever we go - whether they want to be friendly or not. He can tell you everything you never needed to know about a million topics and their videos on YouTube. He has a temper and a stubborn streak a mile wide. He also has a huge heart and really loves his family.

Milly Meltdown was our tie-breaker. She is a happy little soul that can turn angry or sad in a split second. She wears her heart on her sleeve and forgives as easily as she gets angry. We are very lucky to have this little being as the third part of our quartet of growing littles. The family dynamic would not be the same without her, and I can't imagine life without seeing it through her eyes whenever I need a pick-me-up. 

Here we are now.

Bitty Bear was the exact opposite of his older siblings. As a baby, none of the tried and true methods worked to calm him - with the exception of the Gummy Bear Song (Thank you, Youtube). He is unique and strong-willed, yet has a heart-stopping smile for those who least expect it. He has been figuring out how things work since before he could walk, and he is biding his time until he can blow us away with the way he thinks and experiences life.

Four amazing little beings, filled with personality, sarcasm and hints of both of us, mixed with whatever it is that determines their own personal perspective.

 I adore these little faces and I am so honored to be mom.

Some days, I can only hope they love me half as much as I love them.

When they grow up, I hope they understand the bad days and appreciate the good ones so much more. 

A moment with Bitty Bear

When it comes to having children, there are stages of development. We all recognize that. However, I have not always caught those times when the baby is truly becoming an aware little person.
I didn't miss that moment this morning. Bitty Bear is seven months old now. Last night, he was waving to me and to daddy.
This morning, he didn't want to lay on the blanket, did not want to sit in the bouncer chair. I was holding him and he was balancing his weight on his own two feet, almost not needing mommy to help him stay up. Luckily, it doesn't last for too long. But his time in his jumper and exersaucer are definitely being put to good use, strengthening his little legs so he'll be toddling around on them in no time.
I looked into his eyes, and his little face was lit up with joy that he was standing, mommy was right there and his world was beyond awesome. I stopped and thought, my baby boy is growing up.
He knows all of us now, recognizes voices and even the sound of his siblings entering a room (it is hard to mistake the sound for anything else, other than the stampede of a herd of elephants). He likes eating with a spoon and the other night was much more receptive to a bottle of water. Before now, he was not interested in these things.
He considers everything so carefully, from his little hand to anything that can fit in it. If he can't reach something, he studies it like he is plotting a way.
I am so glad I had that moment with him this morning. Maybe this time I won't suddenly stop and think, where did my baby go? Because I am catching the moments when he is changing.

When Desperation Breeds Innovation - MomStyle

As a mom and freelancer (hence Scribble Mama), I all too often run up on deadline and am not even close to done with the project. That is largely because I have no self-discipline and I am a dedicated procrastinator - and partly because I have two gremlins at home all day demanding attention and four wreaking havoc in the evening hours.

Today was another one of those days. With one project done and the other hopeless anyway, I thought I would take a moment to share my creative burst this morning when I should have been writing.

Milly Meltdown is in a superhero phase. As in, she thinks she is one. She regularly requests having a blanket (her baby blanket that she still has. cue the awwws) tied around her neck so she can go zooming around the house saving people and animals from the ever-present bad guys.

The other day, I saw a link. And no, I was not on Pinterest. However, it was a Pinterest-worthy idea and I am sure it has been shared there many times already. That link came to mind this morning when Milly Meltdown made her first request to have the blanket tied, and I knew it would be followed by 10 more, all while I am attempting to form coherent sentences and craft a piece worthy of making money (not much, but still it's money).

Enter, the T-Shirt Cape:

I am now "the best mom ever" that she is going to "cuddle with every day." There was a lot of super zooming through the house, enough to get one project done. 

I even completed two more capes, because obviously this will become a very coveted item once the other gremlins burst through the door at 3:30 p.m. I even have ambitious plans for a cape for Bitty Bear, although there is no concrete benefit from that endeavor. We shall see if I complete that plan or not. 

If you want to do one too, head to Pinterest. It took me longer to try to find the website that inspired me than it did to make the three capes. Note, mine are no sew, no velcro. Hint: Use a t-shirt and keep the neck of the t-shirt intact.