Family Traditions

All of the holiday cheer makes me feel rather... scroogish. Ask any of my students and they would agree. Especially those who see me scowl at the PA that sings carols during precious instructional time. Every year, I feel the carols of commercialism and forced gift giving beckoning around Halloween, and I try to ignore them until about December 20th. However, the holidays are important for children to experience. Xavier has to get a sense of bigger family traditions and togetherness.

Even though typical traditions tend to bother me, there are some traditions that I think are wonderful. I dislike Santa on the grounds that I firmly dislike lying to children about anything. However, I do participate in the local giving tree which benefits a local homeless shelter and I used to help my mom organize the tree at our old parish. I don't believe that giving gifts is something just to be done because it's a certain day - but that it should be meaningful and based on what you know about the person. Yet, we all forget, the only real gift that matters is time. Time spent together, time celebrated for each moment.

Growing up, the traditions that I most remember and care about were the ones in which we were all together. Or, were just funny. For example, putting up the tree and then wrestling with my older brother with the tree looming precariously above us, much to the disgruntled concern of our parents. "If that tree falls on you..." in a false threatening tone that showed my mothers annoyance more than her concern. If the holidays are really supposed to be about togetherness, then shouldn't we be celebrating the sibling rivalry and frustrations we try to keep down throughout the year?

Given that Xavier's an only child, Xavier and I are scoping out atypical approaches to this time of year. {READ: Mommy's trying not to lose her sanity or credit score over this time of year.} So this year, Xavier and I are having family time together - just the two of us - and doing some fun things...


There are the typical traditions that we've done this year such as: baking cookies, making crafts, making ornaments, day after T-Day shopping, going to the cinema with siblings, and having a snowball fight after the first real snow. Those are things that you can post pictures of, but pictures won't have the same fuzzy glow around the edges that comes with a strong memory.

However, I hope that Xavier remembers the more atypical traditions such as: feeding bison at a ranch, going horseback riding, or learning how to climb at the sports fest. We'll definitely go back to the Buffalo Ranch because we had so much fun. I think it will become a yearly or maybe more often tradition. When Xavier was riding the horse (with a lead guiding the horse) he was truly smiling. Just like when we fed the bison, he was really enjoying himself and we were enjoying each other. It's so easy to become frustrated with a 3 year old who can throw a tantrum or just ignore your very important instructions, but it's also so wonderful to be there for a lot of his first real memories.

Yes, it's hard to get in the holiday spirit. Yes, I know too much about commercialism and tend to be cynical about it. Yes, getting the right gifts for every person is a pain! However, no, I wouldn't let Xavier miss out on anything like family time, and especially not quirky traditions. Those are the ones that matter most.

He's smooth...

Dinnertime in the kitchen of our flat is never quiet or calm. Usually pots and pans are composing their own symphony of spice and sizzle. All while Xavier is providing the beat on the garbage cans with his improvised drumsticks. The radio is on and tuned to the oldies channel as we prepare dinner, eat and clean up. It's time for us to reconnect after the day is done. Sometimes there's a toast with wine, sometimes there's just cheers with apple juice.

What I love most about dinner is the music. The troubles of the present day fade away with the sounds of the past. One night this past week, Xavier and I are dining in. The Eagles come on with "Take it Easy". Xavier says "this is a good song" and we dance. He's doing a 3 year old version of break dancing and I'm just moving around the kitchen.

Then, Xavier leads me into the middle of kitchen starts to dance with me. He's charming. He asks for my hands... and we're partner dancing.


My 3 year old son is leading me around the kitchen. ...And doing a really good job of it.


After a while at being frustrated with the height difference, he moves from typical partner dancing ... to Charleston. My son is leading me in side by side Charleston. He has arm wrapped around the top of my leg and we're doing the Charleston... to the Eagles... in the kitchen. My heart is melting at this moment.


Possibly the hardest part of being a parent is that your life, and specifically your social life, goes from great to nonexistent. When I had Xavier, I gave up dancing, "temporarily". I can't go to a social dance that starts at 10pm when my little boy will be up at 6 am... and I miss it. Dancing had become so important to me while I was in college because it provided me a forum to be social and exercise without forcing myself to be social or forcing myself to exercise. I went dancing every week. However, moments like this remind me that it's just a temporary absence. Even if it feels like life marches on without me, I find myself dancing in my kitchen with my young son.

My 3.5 year old Monster

Halloween goods are at 75% off. Aisles have switched from orange and black to red and green. The aftermath of vampires, goblins and ghouls has led to many a conversation with my little Ironman about... Monsters. Who knew that monsters are such an interesting topic to a three year old? Who knew that vampires were of interest to the preschooler and not just to the preteen?

Xavier's transition to his new room has been hindered by his fears of a) being alone b) weird sounds c) the dark and d) monsters. He asks me if I can sleep with him, even if just for a little bit. On his first night in his room, we looked in every imaginable place to find monsters and didn't find any. We even talked about scary weird noises and attributed them to the washer, the radiator, even the refrigerator, but not monsters. Xavier knows that monsters do not exist. At least, I've told him they don't, even though my conscience sighs when I lie.

How do you explain to your child that the monsters he's afraid of aren't the ones that he should be afraid of? The monsters that climb into bed with him and interrupt his sweet dreams aren't the ones to cry about. They're nothing compared to debt, loneliness, political corruption, fear, victimization, abandonment, inequality, and crime. Yet, to explain the monsters I see, and that I'm afraid of, would be to corrupt his innocence.

So, when he says he slept well because he didn't see monsters, I smile. My heart smiles at his innocence. When he wants me to stop something and says, "the monsters will hear you", there's no way that I can refuse. I suppose I can only take comfort when he says, "Mommy, the sounds aren't monsters. They're Jane." (our upstairs neighbor) At least the radiator isn't so scary anymore.

Mr. Independent

It's hard being 3. 3 is full of contradictions. You are mobile, but you are limited. You feel like you could fly high, but you are actually short. You are intelligent, but logic is confusing.

You are independent, but so very dependent... all at the same time.

Xavier, however, is hitting full on independence.

a week ago, Xavier didn't want help getting his sweater on. He figured out, with much frustration, how to put it on but then demanded that I start the zipper for him.

Yesterday, he made the decision about which restaurant we were going to dine at for dinner.

It's been about 3 weeks since he's willingly given me a hug and kiss goodbye when I drop him off at school in the morning. (cuellito sure, but no besos) All of these rapid changes are hard for me to accept. However, with it comes a new side to him that I didn't know existed.

Today, at the grocery store, Xavier heard the music playing and started dancing... I mean full on let's slide across the floor and groove. I think he would have tried to start breakdancing near the canned goods if I hadn't given him a funny look. The song was "Freak Out" and Xavier had the full on pointed fingers, footwork, etc. More than one of the other shoppers gave him the "oh my goooosh you are so adorable" face.

Now that he has his own room, he's showing all sorts of little trends. For example, he's all about letters. He's really paying attention to letters and starting to spell. (This will be easier once he's more confident in his letter sound recognition...) He practices writing his name on every piece of paper that colors on. He's also recently learned how to spell our last name... a feat not to be diminished considering most adults still look at me funny when I remind them there are two "h"s.

Today, he ran home from the corner of 53rd. I had to beg him and squeeze his hand to hold onto it as we crossed the street. Once we were at the corner, he bolted. Much to the bemusement of the other pedestrians.




We've done things the same way for so long, that it's hard to keep him back. I knew this was coming... I just didn't know it would be here so soon.

Times are Changing

Xavier has always been my little boy. He's been sleeping in my bed since he was about ... 2 days old. It started as him needing to sleep with me because I was too exhausted and sleep deprived from a hard labor and nursing all night. It continued because it was comforting. It continued because we spent so much time away from each other during his first two years, while I finished my education, that every moment together was precious. It continued because once we were finally together all the time, we shared a room. It continued because holding him close and listening to him breathe was the only thing that made me sleep when insomnia reared its ugly head. It continued because when he's cuddled next to me, he's still my little boy. He won't be little forever, and I have to savor these moments while they are still here.

Xavier is growing up. This weekend he will have his own room while living with me for the first time. We aren't moving to a new place, one of my roommates is. Once she returns to her home country, Xavier will have her room. It will be a big transition - more for me than for him.

Each day I notice more and more things that mark him a little boy rather than a small baby. Everywhere we go, he wants to be at the front of our two person line. He looks longingly at toys that are meant for 7 year olds. He even has developed patience - or a sense of delayed gratification. When we went to the teacher store, I was simply hoping he wouldn't touch everything in sight. He surprised me when he said, "Mommy, when you're done buying things, I'll play the fishing game, and then we can go bye-bye." He didn't really touch anything else, because he just wanted to play the game.

Yet, in other ways, he still is a baby. He still cuddles with me each Saturday and Sunday morning. He still sucks his thumb and plays with his belly button when he's upset or tired. At least I know he's still mine when he does that.

So, today, Xavier came out of bed and joined me on the couch. He cuddled next to me as I was writing. 5 minutes later, he stopped cuddling with me, found his coloring book, and is coloring Batman. While I'm working, so is he. Two months ago, he had no clue who Batman was, now I can't go anywhere without hearing about Batman, Spiderman or Ironman.

I've always wanted Xavier to grow up healthy and be happy with who he is. Yet, I suppose my worst fear is that one day, I'll wake up and I won't recognize the person he's become. I'll still be looking for my little baby when he's actually a man. He's changing so much that it's possible.

There are still a few gentlemen left...

... and today I met all of them.

Last night, I had my roommate put a reminder on my dashboard post-it collection to go into the shop and check the tire pressure in my car. I had noticed that it was eating gas, but the warning light came on last night and I had refilled the tire with air. Evidently, the post it reminder and intention to stop by the garage this afternoon wasn't fast enough for Xica. (Yes, I named the car)

2 and 1/2 hours of waiting later with a flat (read: completely ruined/blown out tire) on I-55 for the tow truck... I realized that this was the best of all possible bad Mondays. It was just a flat - the warning light came on again 30 seconds before it blew, and I had slowed down already when it blew. No massive accident or sudden shock induced swerving. No one was hurt, and no damage to the car.

Surprisingly, I met more kind people today than I do usually any day. Two different IDOT people stopped and checked that I was ok. A state trooper stopped by and asked if I had a spare (Thanks Ford! I in fact did not. An air pump is not effective in place of a spare when there is a gaping hole in the rubber...) Even the person who was dispatched to change the flat but couldn't without the spare was kind and helpful... [Does anyone else see a theme here?]

Once the tow truck arrived, I felt transported to a weird reality. It's been so long since I've been dependent on the kindness of strangers that it was disconcerting. As Xica was loaded up onto the truck, my sense of independence and willpower shrunk. I felt incredibly responsible and guilty. I wouldn't have gotten through this morning without breaking down in tears if I hadn't been for the multiple kind and gentle souls who helped me out.

Waiting by the side of the road, you can't help but see people pass you by. You start to count exactly how many are passing you by without seeing you in your moment of crisis. This feeling made me wonder what I want Xavier to be doing with his life.

How is it that you raise a gentleman? I want him to be the generous person who stopped for me today just to check and see if I was ok. I want him to be the kind person who gave me advice on what to do next. I want him to be the type of person who has empathy for others - especially those in crisis.

Today made me realize that it doesn't matter what Xavier chooses as his profession - it matters how he treats others. Sure, a college/grad school education would be wonderful, but ultimately, I want him to be a kind, generous, and considerate man. Because, I never want to believe that there are no gentlemen left.

His own driver's seat

Xavier, unfortunately, has become a terrible backseat driver. It hasn't been two days that he hasn't told me to go because it's green or stop because it's red. Often he wants to go this way or that way rather than our usual path. I understand that he is just learning the rules and vocalizing them often, but I don't remember doing this to my parents when I was three. Maybe when I was 10 and realized what those signals meant.

However, this shows me two important things about his development. First, he recognizes where we go as well as what else is nearby. He understands that point A is close to point B and that this other place that we've been is also in the same locale. Maybe he will inherit my ability to always find my way.

Second, he recognizes a sense of rules and applies them to himself, but not to others. He is observant and patient enough to wait for the light to change to green, but doesn't understand why I don't move if there are cars in front of me. He recognizes a simple red/yellow/green system, but can't comprehend that others are following that same system. It's great to know that he's paying attention to it, but it's astounding to know that he processes such information differently than I do.

How fast he's growing up.

Stoplights...

I feel like Xavier and I spend a great deal of time in the car. Whether we're on our way to the chiropractor, the grocery store, or even to get the oil changed, we end up living our lives in the car. I would like to think that it's not time wasted, and I do try to have entertainment in the car for Xavier that is productive.

So, during our latest trip to the chiropractor, Xavier interrupts the audiobook that is playing and tells me, "if you do that again you're going to be on orange." I think this is in response to him asking for the 14th time to have a piece of candy. His school (daycare) has just implemented the stoplight behavior chart. (green = all is well; yellow and orange are warnings and red is time out) In school, I would have never been on anything but green, and here is my darling son telling me that I'm really one step away from a time out. It was surreal. It also made me wonder - if Xavier gave me a grade as a parent, would I get all As? Or, would I not deserve that? Have I been doing a thorough enough job to even get one A? And, who is grading me? Society? Xavier? Other parents? his teachers?

What is it that makes a parent good and more importantly, how do I become that for Xavier? I'm the only parent he has, so I have to be there for him - through it all. That thought sends shivers down my spine. It's not only an incredible responsibility, but also the reason that I get up in the morning. I don't share him. He's mine. What good things he has gained in life, have come from me. I smile slightly and feel my breath catch and linger on this realization. It's then that the audiobook announces "END OF DISC 10", and I'm jolted back from deep parental consciousness.

My full intention is to move to disc 11. However in the process, we catch the Spanish pop station which is playing one of Xavier's favorite songs. (Who knew 3 year olds could like Enrique Iglesias and sound deliriously cute singing it?) We both sing. I'm sure the people who saw us dancing and singing in the car at the stoplights just thought we were crazy or weird. Yet, it's only when I let my guard down and experience life with Xavier that I realize what being a parent to him is about.

Five years from now, he's not going to remember the audiobooks or who was playing on the radio. He's going to remember that we were together and that it was fun. I want so desperately to do everything right for him, but I'm coming to the realization that it's not about the obsessive planning of playdates or organic menus... It's about making life and love palpable.

In As Good As It Gets Jack Nicholson's character says that line: "You make me want to be a better man". I've been thinking about it lately, I would say, "You make me a better [wo]man". Even if I'm on orange.

End of Summer Sadness

With every new school year, there is the twinge of excitement of sending kids back to school and recouping some personal time. At least for most parents. This is not true if you are a parent, and a teacher. Labor Day marks the end of summer, my end of "freedom" from the tyrannical rule of lesson plans and construction paper paper cuts. (I swear it's more serrated than typical paper) It also marks the end of peaceful family time. When Xavier and I might make a few day trips to go kayaking or visiting museums or just sit and do nothing on the beach.

However, the benefits of sending the Xavier off to school far outweigh the price. Yes, our time together is drastically cut. Yes, he's going to be especially clingy and not want to sleep. Yes, I'm going to hate making the choice between reading to him and giving him a bath before he needs to go to bed because we only have 2 hours together in the evening in which to cram dinner and playtime and ___________. Yes, it's difficult seeing him off every morning. Yes, it's going to be really hard when he is 5, for real - not him just telling people he's 5, and finally in Kindergarten.


It's simply bittersweet.


However, his hugs carry more weight. His kisses stay with me all day. His smile when I pick him up at the end of the day lights up my soul. Especially when it's attached to a hug that is strong enough to knock me off my feet. I even appreciate his lion kisses. (Thanks again to my lovely brother who defined a lion kiss as a lick on the face... really nice.) His big presence through small gestures isn't lost on me, even after a day with 30 6 year olds.

So, the school year begins and summer fades into fall.

I wouldn't last one minute as a deer

Xavier has shown me lots of things in life, and tonight he has made me happy that I am not a deer. In fact, I don't think I would cut it. I would be the baby that is captured right after it's born. I know this because my lungs were burning after 3 or 4 rounds of chase. I was the deer, Xavier was the leopard.

Yes, leopard. He found my old Halloween costume (tail and ears) from a couple years ago. He put them on and then tried to find a deer tail for me. He settled on me wearing his tiger tail - I suppose it's very important that prey be properly dressed for the occasion - and we were set for the chase. It started each time with me pretending to eat the rhododendron, Herbie, and starting to run when I spotted the leopard sneaking up on me. So we ran, and giggled as he chased me from one end of the house to the other. All along the way he was roaring, between the giggles of course. It also ended each time with Xavier making the kill and tackling me. The first time, I think I made it 10 seconds. The rest of them... maybe a minute. Laughs, giggles and many roars later, we finally settled down and played a game. Now that he's stretched out on the couch next to me, I've been reminded of one thing. Although my knees might ache and my lungs burn, my heart still beats for him. Despite being captured by his ferocious self.

Peds here he comes...

Yesterday was the first day that I have ever had a housecall. Doctor Xavier took very good care of me and added his own personal touch to the typical pediatric examination. It's worth noting that Xavier despises doctor visits because he's scared of shots. Anytime he's sick, we don't go to the doctor, we go to the pediatrician. I know, I know. One day, I will fill him in on the fact that pediatricians are doctors. Until then, I feel it's no worse than Santa.

Anyways, I've noticed that Xavier is very much into pretend play. He's been pretending to be a dinosaur or tiger and chase and bite me for the last 6 months. However, it wasn't until yesterday that his pretend play mirrored everyday life.

Xavier began by having me lay down on pillows on the floor. He asked how I was feeling. He looked at me when I told him. (bedside manner already!) He then proceeded to pull out his tools and use them to examine me... a ruler, a couple pencils, pieces of fabric, empty carton of goldfish, blocks, toy dinosaur, etc.

After the preliminary exam, he moved me to the exam room - located conveniently behind the rocking chair in the living room and had me lay down on the table... a box and a collection of my t-shirts. He proceeded with his exam, this time even more thorough. He checked my toes to make sure they were the same size and my thumbs as well. He even checked my heart with his makeshift stethoscope. (pencil connected to sticker, with fabric going to his ears) All throughout his exam, he continually reassured me that I would be done soon. At the end, he even gave me a sticker because I was good. Too bad my other doctors don't do that!


It's fascinating to watch him. You can't help but smile and wonder what all his young mind is able to comprehend. I just hope that whatever he decides to do with his life lets him attend to people the way that he did for me.

Why... oh why?

Narrator: Kitchen, dinnertime, mommy and Xavier seated at the table and eating dinner. Mommy has nearly finished everything, except her avocado which she is eating with a spoon. There isn't much conversation because the air beneath the ceiling fan is moving, but stagnant nonetheless. The pair sit calmly refreshing themselves until Xavier begins to ponder.

Xavier: what you eating mommy?

Mommy: an avocado

Xavier: Oh that called avocado. Why you eating a avocado mommy?

Mommy: because it's yummy

Xavier: Why it's yummy?

Mommy: because it's delicious

Xavier: Why it's licious?

Mommy: because it's a fruit

Xavier: Why it's fuit?

Mommy: because it has a seed

Xavier: Why it have seed?

Mommy: To make more avocados

Xavier: Why it make more avocados?

Mommy: For me to eat

Xavier: Oh, why you eat avocado mommy?

Mommy: because it's yummy

Xavier: Why it's yummy?

Mommy: because it's delicious

Xavier: Why it's licious?

Mommy: because it's a fruit

Xavier: Why it's fuit?

Mommy: because it has a seed

Xavier: Why it have seed?

Mommy: To make more avocados

Xavier: Why it make more avocados?

Mommy: For me to eat

Xavier: Oh, why you eat avocado mommy?



Narrator: The scene ends abruptly when mommy stands and begins cleaning the dishes, breathing deeply to hide her frustration at her son's incessant line of questions. His smile that quickly flashes across his face shows a sense of triumph over his mother.

Happiness

Xavier and I spent the holiday weekend having a lot of fun. We had a barbecue, went to the park, went for a bike ride, saw a parade, went to the beach and watched fireworks. What a weekend. It's amazing how much fun summer really is when you're 3.

of life and learning

It is the end of the school year. It always makes me sullen to know that my students, my cherished little minds for whom I've stayed up all night, planned challenging lessons and worried about unbeknownst to them, will no longer be mine. I will become their former... their past. It just reminds me that not so long from now I will become my own son's former teacher. Not because he will be in my class and pass on to the next teacher, but because he will grow up.

Albert Einstein once said, "Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school." Sure, everyone remembers their favorite teacher and year in school, but do they remember the lesson on silent e or hanging participles? No. When I think of what education means for Xavier, I can't help but wonder what his accrued knowledge will consist of. What kinds of skills will he have that his grandparents couldn't imagine having? What kinds of things will he learn that I couldn't imagine? What will be the lessons or things that he takes away from his 12+ years of formal schooling? Will he remember them when he is 40?

Moreover, what will he take away from his 18+ years of informal schooling? What is it that I want for my son to know when he's 18? What do I hope to have taught him? I could make a list miles long or fill a novel with small focused skills that will hopefully help him develop into the caring, respectful gentleman I hope he becomes. However, at the end of the day, my hope for him is the same as my students. I hope he develops into a conscious person who is considerate, knowledgeable, and empathic of the world and others around him as well as himself.

I don't believe this happens in school through a textbook. In fact, I can tell you that it doesn't. This happens through living everyday. Actually living, with eyes and minds open.

Yes, I really am a superhero.

Mother's Day, the time for flowers and candy and IOUs of doing dishes or being nice to your siblings, has come and gone. Soon those IOUs will expire until next year, when you remember how wonderful your mother is, once again. So, rather than sweeping myself under the rug, I'm celebrating my accomplishments. I'm looking back at all the things that make me a good mom. It's too easy to purposely not care about or ignore the things that children do that drive you crazy... but it's a challenge each and every day to care and correct and support and put 110% of effort into raising a child. Even more, if you go it alone.

Although motherhood comes with an endless amount of guilt of all the things that you aren't doing for your child, I think the point of Mother's Day (and everyday) is to celebrate what you are doing. So, here's my little list of things that make me proud.


Xavier loves libraries - We spend much of our time at home reading books about anything he likes, and Xavier enjoys going to the library in search of new books. Of course, he chooses them based on the pictures he sees, or the fact that he can reach them, but he really likes reading.


Xavier imagines - I cannot tell you how many times Xavier's toys have given me back massages and asked me for things. It's amazing how a small bulldozer can offer to help carry the groceries and respond, "you're welcome" in a bulldozer rumbling voice.


Xavier solves problems - Ut oh, he just spilled juice all over the table again. Wait, what's that... he's going to grab a towel and wipe it up?


Xavier helps - Xavier has various little jobs that he's doing. At the grocery store, he loads the cart with fruits and sits in the basket with all the groceries. Then when he gets to the cashier, he unloads the cart too. At home, he makes his bed, picks up his toys, and wipes the table when asked to do it. In the car, when we're on road trips, he's on high alert for big trucks and does a very good job of pointing them out... until he falls asleep.


Xavier has manners - It's amazing how a little "please" or "thank you" or "you're welcome" makes life so much easier. I never put much thought into it, but it's so much easier to handle the demands of a 3 year old if they come with niceties. My favorite is when he says "thank you mommy for..."


It's not a complete list of everything that makes me proud of him or everything that I've helped him do. It's just everyday things that remind me I'm doing a good job.

Of cupcakes, candles and little bites of happiness

Xavier turned 3 last week. I have a 3 year old son. I feel that I need to pinch myself. I don't even know what to say about this revelation. It's as if the last 3 years have been on fast forward and I only just now realized it. It's amazing how much he's grown.

1...2...3!

Xavier turns 3 tomorrow. It is crazy to think that 3 years ago right at this very moment, I was in early labor. 3 years ago, I was eating strawberries as the last thing before I went to the hospital. 3 years have gone by. I'm sorry, flew by. So, what has happened in the last 3 years?

Xavier has learned to...

eat
sleep
play
crawl
walk
talk
explore
run
jump
skip
drum
listen
cook
feed himself
mix
chat
measure
pour
solve problems
memorize
recite
watch
count
add
help
clean
respond
toast
imagine
build
stack
...
love. Or was that me?


What will happen in the next 3 years?

"Wouldn't it be funny if he were the smartest one here?"

Xavier came to work with me today as his school was closed for building repairs.

Giving this some context:

# of 8 year olds... 33.
# of almost 3 year olds... 1.
# of teachers... 1.
# of headaches... lost count.


Overall, it wasn't bad. Xavier was a very well behaved little guy who was just a bit overwhelmed with the students around him. He talked when he wasn't supposed to... paid more attention to all the kids rather than his mommy... charmed everyone... etc.


Funny Recaps (Instant Replay of the Mommyworld):

Xavier plays with Smartboard during a lesson involving the Smartboard

• Mommy is using the smartboard to explain how to use the data we came up with in order to fill in a pie chart. Xavier has never seen a Smartboard. Xavier picks up the eraser of the smartboard... while mommy is writing with the pen. For some reason, the things mommy is writing are disappearing! And then, just as she's about to label herself as crazy, she hears "mommy what's this?" and sees Xavier with the eraser tucked sheepishly into his sleeve. The class erupts in giggles...

Xavier answers question that stumped most students in the class

• "What would eat a seal?" The students' first response was... shark. Xavier's response, which he shouted out, was Killer Whale. So I made him raise his hand again... and then, voila! He answered correctly again. I, then, had to pull teeth to get "polar bear" from the students. One of them even said tiger...
  

Overall, the day went well. There were no horrible things that happened... no problems that couldn't be solved. It was alright. We survived a day with the 3rd graders.

Throwing punches...

I was informed by his teacher on Friday that Xavier was fighting in school and had to be in time out 3 times that day.

Part of me is deeply saddened that my little boy is leaving his sweet babyhood behind. I mean... babies don't usually fight.

Part of me is feeling guilty as if there was something else that I could have done to be more on top of him and his behavior.

Part of me is angry that he is fighting when he's not yet 3.

Yet, part of me is hoping desperately that he doesn't become a statistic. Anyone who has ever spent time in schools knows that the majority of behavior problems are found in boys. As is the number of Learning Disabilities. Furthermore, boys quickly labeled as lost causes or bad boys due to the aforementioned challenges. I would hate for my son to have those labels in the eyes of his teachers.

So, how do I support Xavier's growing need to be a little boy (aggressive, active, etc.) with the need to behave properly in school environments? Furthermore, how do I get the school to support me in not chastising or reprimanding my son's developmental needs while maintaining a safe environment? To see him as a child with physical activity needs rather than a child with problems or a child acting out?



...and they said labor was the hard part.

Of creepy critters...

I love reptiles. So does Xavier. So should everyone else - in my humble opinion.

Last weekend, we went to Reptilefest. It was so cool. We saw and touched all sorts of reptiles and amphibians.

Xavier really liked the tortoises and turtles. I was a fan of the Carpet Pythons. It was a really great experience... and I think we'll be coming back every year. I mean, how often do you get to hold a snake or pet a tortoise's shell?

There were so many really cool reptiles.
We saw:
-Alligators - Xavier held a little one!
-Monitor Lizards
- Crocodiles
- Tortoises
- Turtles
- So many snake species it's not funny (including big Reticulated Pythons)
- Geckos
- Iguanas, etc.

We all lie about our age...

My little guy has been dreaming about being three for a while now. He will wake up from a nap or the night and tell me that he was dreaming about it. It's so interesting that he is always thinking of being 3.

However, he will actually tell people that he is 3. All his friends are 3. Even adults are 3. (Mommy is 2, of course; he's older...)

The question then becomes... what do you do with a 3 year old for his birthday??

Thanks a lot, Edison!

Dear Thomas Edison,

I would like to personally thank you for the lightbulb. Also for all your work with electrical currents and making electricity available to the masses cheaply.

That being said... why do light switches have to be so appealing to young children? Did you have anything to do with their appeal? If so, I do not approve. Neither does my missing afternoon nap. Xavier informed me that since it was light out, I was not to lay down. I closed the shades... thinking he would succumb to nap time. However, he dragged his ladder to the room, placed it beneath the light switch and proceeded to scramble up it. While he played with the remote, I believed he would not find the trick to turning on the light. I was wrong. 10 seconds after I had assured myself he would not be able to turn on the light and that I should rest in comfort, the room was lit up like dawn.

So, once again thank you for electricity. I appreciate it everyday. However, if there is someone I could talk to about my issue, I would appreciate it.

Sincerely,
ae.

P.S. To my older brothers, who suffered through the four year old me, I apologize.

QOTD: Do Octopuses have Penises?

Every parent will say something like... "I've learned so much from my child... blah blah blah... sappy sappy nonsense... insert seemingly ingenuine comment... blah blah blah." Well, it's true. I had a "wow, I have exactly no idea" moment today. Today, I searched the internet for the answer to the above question because Xavier posed it to me earlier today. He categorizes people as to men or women and "what they have" so... where exactly does an octopus stand? err, swim? If there are girl dogs and boy dogs... girl cats and boy cats... are there girl and boy octopuses? (You can find the answer pretty easily but surprisingly they don't - simply one leg may detach as necessary.)

I think the wonderful thing about children is the insatiable curiosity that they innately have. Xavier stops everything... including dinner to talk about Octopuses. (I always thought it was octopi...) He watches in the middle of the produce section how someone uses a broom. He stops and picks up sticks that grown eyes don't see. There are never enough airplanes in the sky or sounds in the background to ponder about. Everything is still new.

Yes the perpetual "What ____ do?" can become tedious. Explaining complicated processes to a two year old can be incredibly difficult... especially when they ask the same question over. However, I wonder when will my curious little guy become an adult with blinders on? And... how do you remove the blinders from yourself?

Xavier Holmes

Bath time was feeling crowded, so after last week's bath his tub of animals went on an unannounced vacation. For some reason, their existence in the water with minimal human-toy interaction due to an overpopulation of toys was the cause of their (my) stress.

Xavier was upset when he realized they had gone without leaving notice of their return. After realizing he still had 10 toys at his disposal, he calmed down. However, the next day that he found their vacation spot... above the shower in a corner that at his height he shouldn't be able to see. How did he find it you wonder? Did he grow 10 inches overnight? Did he move his ladder in order to look for them? No... he looked in the bathroom mirror. He found their reflection in the corner of the mirror and instantly knew it was them. Seriously, he's a born detective.

There's no hiding from him anymore, but when they come back from vacation I think his water wheel will hop on a jet to the beach...

A for Apple, B for Ball...

It's becoming clear that Xavier has a lot of letter recognition. He correctly recognizes letters such as N, C and T, as well as most vowels. Really, the only letters he confuses are letters that look like such as A and H or letters that he doesn't see very often (k). Those will come with time.

It is amazing. He notices letters everywhere. Signs that say US MAIL are U-S-M-A-I-L. It's fascinating to see his mind light up. Soon the goal will be to attach sounds to those letters and start him on his path toward reading... but for now I think he will be happy with letters. just letters. Maybe the alphabet song too.

Success!

He did it! Hooray! Today is day two of successful potty training. (For # 1 and #2) He is happy, and I am too. He gets candy as a reward... and my reward is not having to do laundry! Who knew it would be so exciting?!

If only you knew...

No one really knows what it means to be a parent until they are. Everyone has heard of diapers, midnight feedings and throwing up, but it's not until it falls on your shoulders (both literally and metaphorically) that it clicks that you are a parent.

However, it's also not until that self-recognition and acceptance happens that you're able to truly enjoy your child. Or even understand that phrase. Everyone has baby stories about them, but no one realizes that those baby stories are etched permanently on the record your parent(s)' soul(s).

To think of what stories were told of me, (hitting my brothers from a young age, sitting in the middle of the table, etc.)I can't help but wonder what one of my son's phrases or habits will seep into my mind at his first game or college graduation. I think of how he adores sticks, and makes them into swords or just chases me around with them. Or, how he always wants to save the last two bites on his plate for later until I finally clean out all the extra child plates from the fridge. I think of how he requests to be held like a baby, because somehow he knows that he is not. I truly understand now what a fleeting moment is. It's a moment in which he turns back because he forgot to give you a kissy and say "I love you". It's an astute observation, "Mommy, I think there are a lot of trees on this street". It's him, banging on the metal trash can at 7 am on a Saturday and you begging him to be quiet for just a few more moments...

Yet, each day he's becoming a man. It wasn't two days ago that he argued his way to a happy meal.
"Xavier, we're only getting food that we don't have at home. Do you understand? That means you're only getting chicken nuggets. No juice and no fries."
"But we don't have fries at home mommy."

I think of how one day, not far from now, I will wonder where my little guy went and who is in his place. My parents said they still see me in my two year old form... but I never knew what they meant.

I think of myself as a really gifted 10 year old

Every once in a while... I still feel like I'm 10 or 12. There's the inhibited way of being, wanting to speak but not knowing the consequences, and wondering if I've managed to embarrass myself in front of everyone in class. Then, there's the gifted part. When something works completely, even if it shouldn't, regardless of my age or how old I feel at the given moment. It's a feeling of complete giddiness with heightened anxiety for repeated results.

So... when my son read to me tonight, that was one of the moments in which it all clicked - if only for a few moments. Was it really reading? No, he memorized Dr. Seuss. He's heard it a million times, but to hear him read it all with tone and volume, inflection and depth was astounding. When a 2 year old flips through 40+ pages of poetry that makes most tongues stumble, you can't help but be proud.

So... even though most of my day was spent feeling like that awkward tween, I had my gifted moments, and so did he.