I have often referred to my car as my mobile living room. We do everything in the car, eat, nap, sometimes change. My car is full of stuff for every possible event, sports gear, snacks, first aid kit, camping gear, scout stuff, gear for all sorts of weather...
My kids have grown up in that car. It showed. After eight years of steady loving use, road trips, and daily grind, it began to smell like sour milk and feet. The carpets and seats were stained. There was ground in food stuck under seats and in places that the vacuum couldn't reach. It was like a pair of comfortable old shoes. It might not have been pretty to others, but we loved it. Which is why it was so sad when it started to act funny on the way home from Illinois. We knew the end was coming, but thought we had at least another year.
I know it was just a car, but I think that it loved us. case in point, the transmission went the day before "Cash for Clunkers" was launched. My sweet Montero Sport sacrificed itself, so we could get decent financing on a Ford Escape. It wasn't quite the joyous event you'd imagine. First we had to clean all of our stuff out. It was like a time capsule of the life of a young family. I found vet bills for our dog Sierra (she died two years ago), a golden dollar with John Quincy Adams on the front, Rob's birth certificate, baby socks, hair bands etc. It is amazing how much one family can squirrel away in a car. The kids were sad about losing their car. Their eyes almost bugged out of their heads as the salesman explained that the car would be scrapped, the engine destroyed.. "and then the car gets to go live with the other SUVs on the SUV farm!" I yelled to drown out the rest of the explanation.
And then there was my reaction. I stood there in the lot like a petulant teenager and proclaimed everything too big, too different. I just wanted MY car. I really don't handle change well and between the ordeal of Lily's bite and the car, plus my new job and the kids new schools, I was very overwhelmed. Rob patiently took over and we took our new car home.
The next day I nervously loaded the kids in the car to go the doctor. We tried out the built in bluetooth. As my new car patiently asked my command I thought "Holy crap, it's Kit!" We tried out the satellite radio and discovered: RADIO DISNEY! I'm on the fence about this one. The girls love it. I also discovered a station called Coffeehouse: acoustic singer songwriters for slightly hippy dippy mothers who'd still like to believe they are cool and can change the world. I love it!
We happily cruised along listening quietly to Selena Gomez. After three blocks I was able to stop hunching over the wheel and breathe. As I pulled into the parking lots the girls cheered and Caroline pronounced "Congratulations, Mama, you have reached your first destination." I am "Dayrider, Suburban Mom" on the prowl or crawl, depends upon the traffic.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Be Still My Heart
Between the fact that my car died and we can't take Lily to the pool, we've been house bound. It's been nice to have some slow lazy days (it would be better to have a car to go to the library with, though).
Lily is doing surprisingly well. She should be able to get her stitches out next week. Trying to keep her still has been a little difficult. She doesn't seem to be at all afraid of dogs, but is nervous about going to the bathroom by herself. She also doesn't want to look at her stitches or have anyone except Rob and I look at them. I really think that she would like to erase this memory from her "memory box."
I am glad that she seems to have no residual fears. I am not having such luck. I have always had and loved dogs, but I am finding it hard not to throw myself between any dog and my children. When I was walking last night, I passed a boxer who put his ears back and stared at me. For the first time I was nervous around a dog. My tongue went dry and my heart started racing. Maybe it's because I was the one who got Lily away from the dog. I was the one who came around the corner and saw the dog pulling on my baby's arm through the trash. I still don't know how I got the dog to let go. By the time everyone (it is nice to have a big family) got to us, I was holding her tight.
Once we got to the ER, I tried to calm myself down by thinking up jokes about "dumpster diving with a Beagle" and "smelling like I'd been on a bender," but this time jokes didn't help. Seeing my amazingly brave little girl did. I really believe that my girls are gifts, I'd have another child in a heart beat if we could afford it. They make me strong and they keep me centered. Even at their worst, they are perfection in my eyes (just don't tell them I said that, I'd never hear the end of it).
I knew we were lucky, but didn't realize how until I saw the bruises on her face and belly. It could have been so much worse., but my heart still broken when I saw the marks on my baby's perfect skin. I lay there that first night and just stared at her. Her little arm propped on a pillow and her bruised face. When she turned her head, it looked like nothing at all had happened.
Serious doesn't last long around here. By the time we headed home, we were telling jokes again. I told Lily my favorite about the tomato who steps on the one who falls behind and yells "Ketchup!" Lily loved it, after she stopped belly laughing, she said "I get it, the concept is we eat squished tomato, ketchup." Rob looked at me in wonder and said "She's fine, huh?" Yeah, she is.
Of course, now I am spending my days telling her to watch her stitches and coaxing her to take her medicine while she barrels through the house asking a million questions. She hasn't missed a beat. She really is pretty amazing.
Lily is doing surprisingly well. She should be able to get her stitches out next week. Trying to keep her still has been a little difficult. She doesn't seem to be at all afraid of dogs, but is nervous about going to the bathroom by herself. She also doesn't want to look at her stitches or have anyone except Rob and I look at them. I really think that she would like to erase this memory from her "memory box."
I am glad that she seems to have no residual fears. I am not having such luck. I have always had and loved dogs, but I am finding it hard not to throw myself between any dog and my children. When I was walking last night, I passed a boxer who put his ears back and stared at me. For the first time I was nervous around a dog. My tongue went dry and my heart started racing. Maybe it's because I was the one who got Lily away from the dog. I was the one who came around the corner and saw the dog pulling on my baby's arm through the trash. I still don't know how I got the dog to let go. By the time everyone (it is nice to have a big family) got to us, I was holding her tight.
Once we got to the ER, I tried to calm myself down by thinking up jokes about "dumpster diving with a Beagle" and "smelling like I'd been on a bender," but this time jokes didn't help. Seeing my amazingly brave little girl did. I really believe that my girls are gifts, I'd have another child in a heart beat if we could afford it. They make me strong and they keep me centered. Even at their worst, they are perfection in my eyes (just don't tell them I said that, I'd never hear the end of it).
I knew we were lucky, but didn't realize how until I saw the bruises on her face and belly. It could have been so much worse., but my heart still broken when I saw the marks on my baby's perfect skin. I lay there that first night and just stared at her. Her little arm propped on a pillow and her bruised face. When she turned her head, it looked like nothing at all had happened.
Serious doesn't last long around here. By the time we headed home, we were telling jokes again. I told Lily my favorite about the tomato who steps on the one who falls behind and yells "Ketchup!" Lily loved it, after she stopped belly laughing, she said "I get it, the concept is we eat squished tomato, ketchup." Rob looked at me in wonder and said "She's fine, huh?" Yeah, she is.
Of course, now I am spending my days telling her to watch her stitches and coaxing her to take her medicine while she barrels through the house asking a million questions. She hasn't missed a beat. She really is pretty amazing.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Accident
Dog safety and bite prevention has been quite a topic around our house this year. It was a scout troops Bronze award and is something Caroline is quite well versed in. Part of the motivation was the fact that her cousin got bit pretty badly in the face three years ago by the family dog. It just happened. No one was at fault. Well, the same thing happened to us last night.
We are visiting the family in Illinois and last night Lily got bit by Rob's uncle's very old beagle. The dog had snuck into the house and was in the trash. Lily walked by, startled her , and got bit. Luckily, I was right behind her and got her before the dog got near her face or belly. She did get a nasty bite on her forearm. I really don't remember all of the details of what happened with the dog, I just know that I got her and screamed and Lily screamed. The entire family came running. Rob and I make a good team in an emergency. We stayed calm and got my first aid kit (don't ever tease me about always carrying it again) and wrapped her arm. The poor thing had wet her pants so I changed her and we took off for the ER. I feel bad that I forgot to say good bye to Caroline, but her aunt was there and took good care of her.
On the way, I started crying, but stopped the minute Lily started patting my cheek and telling me "It's ok Mama." This little girl never ceases to amaze me. Then she quietly told me that she had a memory box in her head and didn't want this memory in there. I told her she didn't have to keep it.
The Midwest is so different from Northern Virginia. We got in and out of the ER in 1 1/2 hour. That wait would have been at least 3 hours at home. They X rayed her arm, cleaned it out and gave her four stitches. Lily was amazing. She didn't cry and asked questions, like were do they learn to fix arms. The nurse has three children of his own and was so nice to her. He even called our prescription into the all night pharmacy for us.
I think that Lily will be fine, she didn't seem mad at the dog or overly scared. I feel really bad for Rob's aunt and uncle. They are the nicest people and I'm sure they're very upset. I also was worried for my niece. I thought this would bring back bad memories about her bite (which was so much worse), but she seems unfazed too.
I am so thankful that the dog only got her arm. It was so close to her face. I spent most of last night staring at the bruise on her temple and just being thankful.
We are visiting the family in Illinois and last night Lily got bit by Rob's uncle's very old beagle. The dog had snuck into the house and was in the trash. Lily walked by, startled her , and got bit. Luckily, I was right behind her and got her before the dog got near her face or belly. She did get a nasty bite on her forearm. I really don't remember all of the details of what happened with the dog, I just know that I got her and screamed and Lily screamed. The entire family came running. Rob and I make a good team in an emergency. We stayed calm and got my first aid kit (don't ever tease me about always carrying it again) and wrapped her arm. The poor thing had wet her pants so I changed her and we took off for the ER. I feel bad that I forgot to say good bye to Caroline, but her aunt was there and took good care of her.
On the way, I started crying, but stopped the minute Lily started patting my cheek and telling me "It's ok Mama." This little girl never ceases to amaze me. Then she quietly told me that she had a memory box in her head and didn't want this memory in there. I told her she didn't have to keep it.
The Midwest is so different from Northern Virginia. We got in and out of the ER in 1 1/2 hour. That wait would have been at least 3 hours at home. They X rayed her arm, cleaned it out and gave her four stitches. Lily was amazing. She didn't cry and asked questions, like were do they learn to fix arms. The nurse has three children of his own and was so nice to her. He even called our prescription into the all night pharmacy for us.
I think that Lily will be fine, she didn't seem mad at the dog or overly scared. I feel really bad for Rob's aunt and uncle. They are the nicest people and I'm sure they're very upset. I also was worried for my niece. I thought this would bring back bad memories about her bite (which was so much worse), but she seems unfazed too.
I am so thankful that the dog only got her arm. It was so close to her face. I spent most of last night staring at the bruise on her temple and just being thankful.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Baa, Baa, Black Sheep
I am a straight arrow. As rule abiding and by the book as they come (even though half the time I'm trying to convince myself that I'm really a closet hippy). In our family there is a theory that kids come in twos. One straight arrow, one wild child. My father was the wild one, my uncle the by the book one; Rob's dad was the wild one, his uncle, by the book. Needless to say my brother was the wild one. I was looking at a picture of my brother and I from my college graduation. He had missed the ceremony and arrived late. The picture shows my brother, long haired, red eyed, and rumpled and me in my cap and gown chewing him out. That scene sums up the family to a tee. The straight arrow tows the lines, the wild child has fun. Our best stories are wild child driven. They are fun and lively and a constant source of worry. We straight arrows, when not full of righteous indignation are sticks in the mud, arriving safely at every destination with no tale to tell. Really, we need each other. It's a yin yang thing. By the way, my brother is now a steady as a rock. He's grown up.
Our family's wild children come with dangerous habits. Drinking too much, drugs, long wild nights, poor decision making, broken bones, hearts, and cars. I spent years dancing between self righteous worry and complete indifference (with hidden worry). I also envied the eases with which hey went through life. Never really as hurt as they could have been. They seemed charmed. Everywhere they went they made friends, had adventures, had a blast. I've ridden shotgun standing on the beach watching them crash through dangerous waves.
Our latest wild child is my 20 year old sister. Her life is her story to tell, so no details here. Her life is a continuing drama and she is the star. When she bursts into the house she leaves a wake behind her. It feels like a Bob Fosse number, we should all don sequins and snaps and twist behind her. Her ups and downs have been on going since she was 14. Before then she was my little buddy. She come stay with me every summer and we'd craft and adventure (tamely). Once she hit her teens, she wanted more and dropped out of my life. For the past 6 years we've seen her in fits and spurts. Her stories worry me more than entertain. Her stories frustrate me and I don't really want my children riding shotgun on these trips.
This last visit to CT, she was around more. She walked into the house and Lily looked at me and asked who's that? I explained she was my sister, her aunt. Lily's reply, you have a sister? They all had a nice time together (after getting reacquainted). We went to the beach and she took Caroline out kayaking. Of course, in true inattentive manner, she went out too far and for too long. My step mother got nervous and wanted to go look for them. I also started to get worried (I just saw Rachel Getting Married, watch and you'll know why). Of course, they came back happy and safe. Caroline looked a year older, proclaiming it was so cool, we found an island and explored it, we named it Bird Island! The rest of the day was just as nice, they made brownies and beaded bracelets, then watched movies. She was trying.
I am not stupid, I know this is probably a brief moment. Unreal expectations are dangerous and rarely fulfilled. I also know it starts with small amounts of trust. I look at my straight arrow oldest and my youngest. Will she be the next wild child? No need for pre-determination, just let it be.
Our family's wild children come with dangerous habits. Drinking too much, drugs, long wild nights, poor decision making, broken bones, hearts, and cars. I spent years dancing between self righteous worry and complete indifference (with hidden worry). I also envied the eases with which hey went through life. Never really as hurt as they could have been. They seemed charmed. Everywhere they went they made friends, had adventures, had a blast. I've ridden shotgun standing on the beach watching them crash through dangerous waves.
Our latest wild child is my 20 year old sister. Her life is her story to tell, so no details here. Her life is a continuing drama and she is the star. When she bursts into the house she leaves a wake behind her. It feels like a Bob Fosse number, we should all don sequins and snaps and twist behind her. Her ups and downs have been on going since she was 14. Before then she was my little buddy. She come stay with me every summer and we'd craft and adventure (tamely). Once she hit her teens, she wanted more and dropped out of my life. For the past 6 years we've seen her in fits and spurts. Her stories worry me more than entertain. Her stories frustrate me and I don't really want my children riding shotgun on these trips.
This last visit to CT, she was around more. She walked into the house and Lily looked at me and asked who's that? I explained she was my sister, her aunt. Lily's reply, you have a sister? They all had a nice time together (after getting reacquainted). We went to the beach and she took Caroline out kayaking. Of course, in true inattentive manner, she went out too far and for too long. My step mother got nervous and wanted to go look for them. I also started to get worried (I just saw Rachel Getting Married, watch and you'll know why). Of course, they came back happy and safe. Caroline looked a year older, proclaiming it was so cool, we found an island and explored it, we named it Bird Island! The rest of the day was just as nice, they made brownies and beaded bracelets, then watched movies. She was trying.
I am not stupid, I know this is probably a brief moment. Unreal expectations are dangerous and rarely fulfilled. I also know it starts with small amounts of trust. I look at my straight arrow oldest and my youngest. Will she be the next wild child? No need for pre-determination, just let it be.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Lie Like Broccoli
If it we had the summer schedule all year long, I think that I would be the most chill mama ever. Today Lily spilled yogurt all over the floor and instead of silently screaming in my head, I just handed her paper towels and taught her how to clean it up neatly. We have no schedule, no time constraints, the world really is our oyster!
I'd like to say that with this new found time, our house is immaculate, like something out of Good Housekeeping. Nope, I'm the same slacker housekeeper. There are about five baskets of unfolded laundry behind me as I type. I'd like to say that some major educatioanl enrichment is going on here. Nope, not really. We are all reading like crazy, but it's because that's what we like to do. We are still watching TV and have developed a fondness for silly obstacle course type shows (Wipeout, Super Stars). What we are doing is "lying like broccoli" or to use Caroline's term "chillaxin'".
But this chilled out state of mind makes it so much easier to manage my two alien children. One is morphing into a teen. This is a scary and frustrating process. Most sentences now begin with "God, Moomm," and end with an eye roll, teeth sucking or some sort of smart ass remark that secretly makes me proud of her budding humor level. I can simply look at her and calmly say "watch it" or "that's it you're grounded" without rising to her bait or engaging in a yelling contest. Boy, if only I could do this all year.
My other child, I can enjoy with minimal frustration. I don't mind chasing her down at the pool as she darts around wearing her towel like a cape and yelling "Super Lily! Falling ceases!" (guess what old timey phrase I tried to use to clam her down first?) I can catch her and put her in time out without running my hand frantically through my hair or deep breathing. I can even walk into the living room and watch her leap from the couch into an over turned rocking chair that she has laced through with shoe laces (she was making cargo netting). I can then calmly explain that obstacle courses are for outside and she could have crashed through the french door and been hurt. I can even answer her 50 questions about when each and everything was invented (her standard reply is the 1920's).
I have the time to pause and look at my leggy tanned girls and notice that all their baby fat is disappearing. I can breathe in the intoxicating smell of sunscreen, chlorine, and warm kid. All in all this is the best start to a summer in quite a while.
I'd like to say that with this new found time, our house is immaculate, like something out of Good Housekeeping. Nope, I'm the same slacker housekeeper. There are about five baskets of unfolded laundry behind me as I type. I'd like to say that some major educatioanl enrichment is going on here. Nope, not really. We are all reading like crazy, but it's because that's what we like to do. We are still watching TV and have developed a fondness for silly obstacle course type shows (Wipeout, Super Stars). What we are doing is "lying like broccoli" or to use Caroline's term "chillaxin'".
But this chilled out state of mind makes it so much easier to manage my two alien children. One is morphing into a teen. This is a scary and frustrating process. Most sentences now begin with "God, Moomm," and end with an eye roll, teeth sucking or some sort of smart ass remark that secretly makes me proud of her budding humor level. I can simply look at her and calmly say "watch it" or "that's it you're grounded" without rising to her bait or engaging in a yelling contest. Boy, if only I could do this all year.
My other child, I can enjoy with minimal frustration. I don't mind chasing her down at the pool as she darts around wearing her towel like a cape and yelling "Super Lily! Falling ceases!" (guess what old timey phrase I tried to use to clam her down first?) I can catch her and put her in time out without running my hand frantically through my hair or deep breathing. I can even walk into the living room and watch her leap from the couch into an over turned rocking chair that she has laced through with shoe laces (she was making cargo netting). I can then calmly explain that obstacle courses are for outside and she could have crashed through the french door and been hurt. I can even answer her 50 questions about when each and everything was invented (her standard reply is the 1920's).
I have the time to pause and look at my leggy tanned girls and notice that all their baby fat is disappearing. I can breathe in the intoxicating smell of sunscreen, chlorine, and warm kid. All in all this is the best start to a summer in quite a while.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Summertime and the Livin's......
I took the girls to the pediatrician for check ups today. It's only four days into summer break and they both already look like the poster children for what not to do in the summer. Their shoulders are sunburned nice and pink (I used sunscreen!) and Lily's legs have been eaten alive by mosquitoes (I used bug spray!). I wanted to tell the doctor that at least it proves I've taken them outside. The doctor didn't mind their state. But while we were waiting in the office, I thought of some summer predictions.
This summer I will repeatedly say the following (to play along try to guess which remark goes to which kid, no Rob does not count as a kid):
Your shoes are on the wrong feet. Switch them.
Get off the phone. Get off the phone, now!
Get off the computer. No not in ten minutes, now!
Leave her alone!
Popsicles are not breakfast, even though there's a picture of fruit on the front.
Come get sunscreen!
No TV. Not even a minute.
It's summer, you can't wear that.
I know it's not raining, but when it thunders pool's closed.
Who took my MP3 player?!
No, you can't have money for the ice cream man. There are Popsicles in the fridge.
Get down from there!
Come back, that's too deep.
Share with your sister!
I will be doing the following:
Traveling to both CT and IL with the kids. Visit will be fun, drive will be hell.
Chilling at the pool.
Using an entire bottle of red nail polish (girls need cute toe nails).
Using at least a bottle of sunscreen a week.
Using boxes and boxes of Aveeno oatmeal bath (poor itchy Lily).
Eating/passing out cases of Popsicles.
Spending countless hours at the library.
Reading a healthy balance of intellectual/brain candy.
Watching lots of Food Network.
Going through a gallon of bubbles.
Eating JoJo's ice cream at least three times.
Seems like a good start! Happy summer and wear sunscreen!
This summer I will repeatedly say the following (to play along try to guess which remark goes to which kid, no Rob does not count as a kid):
Your shoes are on the wrong feet. Switch them.
Get off the phone. Get off the phone, now!
Get off the computer. No not in ten minutes, now!
Leave her alone!
Popsicles are not breakfast, even though there's a picture of fruit on the front.
Come get sunscreen!
No TV. Not even a minute.
It's summer, you can't wear that.
I know it's not raining, but when it thunders pool's closed.
Who took my MP3 player?!
No, you can't have money for the ice cream man. There are Popsicles in the fridge.
Get down from there!
Come back, that's too deep.
Share with your sister!
I will be doing the following:
Traveling to both CT and IL with the kids. Visit will be fun, drive will be hell.
Chilling at the pool.
Using an entire bottle of red nail polish (girls need cute toe nails).
Using at least a bottle of sunscreen a week.
Using boxes and boxes of Aveeno oatmeal bath (poor itchy Lily).
Eating/passing out cases of Popsicles.
Spending countless hours at the library.
Reading a healthy balance of intellectual/brain candy.
Watching lots of Food Network.
Going through a gallon of bubbles.
Eating JoJo's ice cream at least three times.
Seems like a good start! Happy summer and wear sunscreen!
Alien Child
I'm sure that I'm not the first parent to think that their child is a visitor from another planet. Most days I look at Lily and think that she is just here collecting data on the daily habits of the suburban family. Navigating life as Lily's mom has been so different from Caroline. I understand Caroline because she is so like me. She wears her heart on her sleeve. Right or wrong, you always know where you stand (even if that's in earshot of screaming and crying).
Lily on the other hand seems so happy go lucky. Never upset, never worried. That couldn't be farther from the truth. It just shows in different ways, like rapid fire questions or bossing people around. I have quickly learned that I can avoid headaches and mess if I just answer her questions truthfully. Forget fairies and other magic stories, this kid wants the facts. That's not to say she doesn't have an imagination. She does, but make believe lives in it's own place (everything in her life has it's compartment), she will clearly tell you it's not real, it's just for fun. When people try to tease her and say things like "look there's a purple elephant!" Lily will chuckle knowingly and look at me, "Mom, that's not true! Elephants aren't purple."
She seems so fearless, but she is terrified of the dark. One night she started crying about monsters. I pulled out my tried and true tale of "Monster Spray" that kept them away. Lily's response was "That can't be true because I know monsters aren't real, they just live in my head!" The look of annoyance on her face when she called me on my lie, cured me of that forever.
She seems to know no fear, but once she understands the dangers, she is so cautious. Once she knows that "This is a rule," she is a tyrant about it. The trick is to explain it to her satisfaction or she'll figure it out the hard way. The old advice about avoiding "over explaining to your child" doesn't apply here. You can't over explain to this kid.
My biggest problem with her is the comedy aspect. She is a certified "laughter junky." If she thinks that it will get a laugh, she'll do it. Sometimes even at the expense of known safety rules. Lily does impersonations of all of the people in her life and TV characters. She hears a story once and recites it from memory with added voices and dialogue. Suddenly she has decided that she is too old for "little kid shows" and wants to watch Caroline's shows. That lasted only one day before I got hit with the biggest wall of preteen attitude from my pint sized four year old. Caroline's shows have been deemed "iappopriate" (her word) for Lily. It is so hard to politely whisper to strangers " I know she's funny, but please don't laugh, she'll never stop."
Once we set a rule, God help us if we veer at all away from it. Lily first let us know and then the next time inform us that we let her do it once so she should get to do it again.
I know she's smart. I'm not saying this in that bragging mommy way (My little angel can sing on tune while reading the encyclopedia, while painting a recreation of Starry Night). Lily can just figure things out without any help from us. Rob borrowed money from her any she knew how much she had and how much she had left. I feel a little bad about her having us for parents. We are both pretty smart people. The problem is that we a very quiet and independent in our intelligence. We don't sit around having lofty discussions. We sit around trading smart ass barbs. I never pushed Caroline to read. I figured it would happen on it's own and it did. I've never been a flash card Mom or a factoid Mom. I love TV and have no reservations about it. I love the computer, but also love books just as much. I just think that Lily would be better off with parents who could teach her to use her skills for good instead of mayhem.
I am wondering if I should try to teach her to read and write this summer, but honestly, I'm kind of enjoying the ride. I like her unbridled wackiness. I don't want to button her up into academia. The other night after a particularly episode of kookiness involving costume changes, dialogue in song, and air quotes, Rob looked at me and said that she reminded him of a friend of ours from high school. This guy was one of the brightest and wittiest people that I've ever met, but with absolutely no drive or regard for structured education. He was in the gifted program, but barely passed, yet he blew his SATs out of the water. My first response was a sarcastic "great!" Then Rob said, "I bet he's a very interesting adult. Besides, I doubt he had a hard assed mother like you. You'll keep her in line."
The more I think about it, I think she came here from Planet Silly to loosen us up. Otherwise we'd be sitting around exchanging sarcastic quips then going right back to our books or computer. Alone, but separate. Lily unites us in wacky sweetness. I laugh at least a dozen times a day. She is unleashed joy. Maybe we'll just work on the comedic chops. She already has bunny ears. What do you think of getting her an fake arrow through the head?
Lily on the other hand seems so happy go lucky. Never upset, never worried. That couldn't be farther from the truth. It just shows in different ways, like rapid fire questions or bossing people around. I have quickly learned that I can avoid headaches and mess if I just answer her questions truthfully. Forget fairies and other magic stories, this kid wants the facts. That's not to say she doesn't have an imagination. She does, but make believe lives in it's own place (everything in her life has it's compartment), she will clearly tell you it's not real, it's just for fun. When people try to tease her and say things like "look there's a purple elephant!" Lily will chuckle knowingly and look at me, "Mom, that's not true! Elephants aren't purple."
She seems so fearless, but she is terrified of the dark. One night she started crying about monsters. I pulled out my tried and true tale of "Monster Spray" that kept them away. Lily's response was "That can't be true because I know monsters aren't real, they just live in my head!" The look of annoyance on her face when she called me on my lie, cured me of that forever.
She seems to know no fear, but once she understands the dangers, she is so cautious. Once she knows that "This is a rule," she is a tyrant about it. The trick is to explain it to her satisfaction or she'll figure it out the hard way. The old advice about avoiding "over explaining to your child" doesn't apply here. You can't over explain to this kid.
My biggest problem with her is the comedy aspect. She is a certified "laughter junky." If she thinks that it will get a laugh, she'll do it. Sometimes even at the expense of known safety rules. Lily does impersonations of all of the people in her life and TV characters. She hears a story once and recites it from memory with added voices and dialogue. Suddenly she has decided that she is too old for "little kid shows" and wants to watch Caroline's shows. That lasted only one day before I got hit with the biggest wall of preteen attitude from my pint sized four year old. Caroline's shows have been deemed "iappopriate" (her word) for Lily. It is so hard to politely whisper to strangers " I know she's funny, but please don't laugh, she'll never stop."
Once we set a rule, God help us if we veer at all away from it. Lily first let us know and then the next time inform us that we let her do it once so she should get to do it again.
I know she's smart. I'm not saying this in that bragging mommy way (My little angel can sing on tune while reading the encyclopedia, while painting a recreation of Starry Night). Lily can just figure things out without any help from us. Rob borrowed money from her any she knew how much she had and how much she had left. I feel a little bad about her having us for parents. We are both pretty smart people. The problem is that we a very quiet and independent in our intelligence. We don't sit around having lofty discussions. We sit around trading smart ass barbs. I never pushed Caroline to read. I figured it would happen on it's own and it did. I've never been a flash card Mom or a factoid Mom. I love TV and have no reservations about it. I love the computer, but also love books just as much. I just think that Lily would be better off with parents who could teach her to use her skills for good instead of mayhem.
I am wondering if I should try to teach her to read and write this summer, but honestly, I'm kind of enjoying the ride. I like her unbridled wackiness. I don't want to button her up into academia. The other night after a particularly episode of kookiness involving costume changes, dialogue in song, and air quotes, Rob looked at me and said that she reminded him of a friend of ours from high school. This guy was one of the brightest and wittiest people that I've ever met, but with absolutely no drive or regard for structured education. He was in the gifted program, but barely passed, yet he blew his SATs out of the water. My first response was a sarcastic "great!" Then Rob said, "I bet he's a very interesting adult. Besides, I doubt he had a hard assed mother like you. You'll keep her in line."
The more I think about it, I think she came here from Planet Silly to loosen us up. Otherwise we'd be sitting around exchanging sarcastic quips then going right back to our books or computer. Alone, but separate. Lily unites us in wacky sweetness. I laugh at least a dozen times a day. She is unleashed joy. Maybe we'll just work on the comedic chops. She already has bunny ears. What do you think of getting her an fake arrow through the head?
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