Life Is Good

While walking to school yesterday, Michael reached up for my hand, looked at me and smiled and said, "life is good."  It was the happiest, calmest, and the most at peace I had felt in a really long time.

When I was driving to work about 15 minutes later, "Someday" came on the radio.  That was my theme when everything was going on last year.  And I thought, for just one second, maybe, possibly, someday could be now.  Could it be too much to hope for?

He came home with 2 stickers on his shirt later that day.  "I got one for sitting the nicest and one for walking the quietest in the hall, Mommy."  He also told me everyone else in his class could read a whole book, and he was the only one who could not, so I'm not entirely sure I'm always getting a full story.

As Michael was going to bed he looked at me and said, "Mommy, life is awesomely, awesomely good."

I know it won't always be perfect.  I know, someday soon, he will hate school and get in trouble again and there will be problems. 

But today, right now, I'm good with good. 

A New Year

I spent all day yesterday pretending it was just any other Monday.  I went to the gym.  I took Doug's car to get inspected, you can't get any more Monday than anything run by the MVA.  I ran errands.  I did some writing. I bought Michael a pillow pet, on a lark, because he he had been asking for one and I wanted him to have something when he got home from a successful first day of Kindergarten.

I sat.  I waited.  I hoped and prayed that things were going ok, but I guess you never really know.

I was strangely calm all day.  I expected to be a nervous wreck, but I wasn't.  I'm in a very, "it is what it is" place.  If he needs help, we will get it for him.  If he doesn't, we won't.  If there is a problem we will solve it.  At this point, today, there is nothing I can do but wait.

At 2:45 I walked the 2 blocks to school, with Doug.  Michael came out and immediately whined that he did not want to carry his backpack home.  And then, he told me how much he loved his teacher.  And Kindergarten.  And he went to music class and got "four notes and when you get 10 notes" something magical happens and I still don't understand what.  He demonstrated, on the sidewalk, how nicely he sat.  He talked about playing Star Wars at recess and lunch and his binder.  He was happy, excited, even.  I've picked him up 2 years in a row at 3 different preschools and never saw this bubbly happy side of him.

 

 
I'm not sure if he was blowing smoke up my ass, or how good of a reporter a 5 year old boy is, but I can tell you this much, he is in love with his pillow pet. He has decided he needs another pillow pet to keep his first pillow pet company. And he named it, Sparkles. (Here is the back story on that.) Or, Royal Pillow Pet, depending on the day.
 

 

Today he has his first day of aftercare.  He is going to go two times a week.  I managed to switch my schedule around so I'll be able to pick him up most days, but need the flexibility of aftercare a few days a week.  I'm hoping that goes just as well as yesterday.  I am so lucky to have a job with that kind of flexibility.

On Saturday we have our last OT appointment.  She just wanted to see him through to Kindergarten, but really, he could have been done at the beginning of the summer.  That is the last thing we have from the madness of last year.  It is over and done, I hope. 

It is a New Year. I think it is time to let all the crap from last year go.  And I think that includes the anger I feel towards the other school.  Somewhere, somehow, I have to believe they thought they were doing the right thing.  And somehow, they helped us.  They brought up concerns that I didn't know existed.  Michael would have never gone to OT if it wasn't for them.  So for that, small thing, I am grateful.  And not angry, anymore. 

Onward, and upward, and we move on.

 

Firsts

I think it won't surprise you to know that I'm not a scrap-booking kind of mom. Michael does not have a "traditional" baby book.  He has a book of pictures of his first year, and that is it.  I'm sad I didn't start this blog until he was 2 and a half, because this blog has served as his baby book of sorts.

I don't know when he first rolled over, or got his first tooth.  I don't know when he first walked, although I know it was a week before his first birthday.  I don't know when he said his first word, although I know he dropped something on the floor and said "uh oh."

I think I took a picture on his first day of preschool and posted it here.  That day seems silly now.  He was fine.  He cried his second day.

Today, his first day of Kindergarten, seems monumental, like the most important first day ever.  I think because Kindergarten feels like the beginning of the end of childhood.  There will be homework and tests and teachers who don't like him.  Although sadly, we already experienced that.  There will be A's and F's, and first loves and heartbreak.  He will succeed and fail.  Soar and Sink.  Make the team and not.  All without me.

We went to "sneak peak" on Friday and found his desk, which he immediately sat down at, ready to learn.  I laughed, and told him he could walk around the room today.  He found his name on his cubby and the wall.  He wrote his name on the sign in sheet.  He found the bathroom, and I was thrilled, of all silly things, that it was right in his room.  His teacher seems fine, she has been with the school for four years, and was somewhere else before that.  But how much do you get a sense of someone in 20 minutes?  He loved the scavenger hunt she had for the kids to do.  And then we met the aftercare providers he will be with two days a week.  And then we left.

We spent the weekend doing lots of fun things as a family.  Friday we went to the Building museum to see the Lego exhibit, something we had been talking about all summer.  It was the last weekend it was there.  Sunday we went to a baseball game with my playgroup.  The kids we have been playing with since Michael was 6 weeks old.  They all start Kindergarten today.  Seemed fitting somehow to spend this day together.  The day "before."

Today, the day "after,"  my biggest fear is this will be last fall, a year later.

I'm fine.  People keep asking me if I'm going to cry, and I see no reason to cry.  He has been in daycare since he was 5 months old and school since he was 3. 

But Kindergarten, as the lovely and eloquent Miss Brit put it, Kindergarten is not preschool.  Kindergarten is for the big kids.  Kindergarten is different.  Kindergarten is where, we will finally know, if he is "fine."  If he can make it.  Or not.  Maybe we will never really know.  Maybe Kindergarten will be fine and first grade will not.  Or High School.  Or 40.

Maybe it is all a serious of firsts.  But this still feels like the most important one. 

 

Hypothetically

Let's just say, hypothetically, your child had a medical issue.  It is not life threatening or mind altering and no one is going to die from it, but it is upsetting and a problem.  You see a specialist for said medical issue, as your pediatrician is out of ideas.  You explain how long said medical issue has been going on and everything you have tried to correct it.  And, after talking for 15 minutes, the doctor tells you to do the exact same thing you have already tried and did not work.  In fact, one might say this course of action failed miserably and caused more problems.  You try to explain this to the doctor and she nods her head and says, "no, no it was working, you just didn't give it enough time to work."  It becomes clear that this is the advice she gives all of her patients and she is not really listening to you, or your child.

Do you:

A. Run from her office screaming?

B. Nod your head, take the instructions, and leave knowing you will never go back there?

C. Think about what she said, talk it over with your husband, and decide like morons to treat your child like a guinea pig?

D.  Come home to a clogged kitchen sink and cry?

E.  All of the above.

Some Days You Just Need Someone To Tell You You Don't Suck

I was having a hard week last week.  I was coming down from a BlogHer high, and Michael was being particularly difficult.  I don't know why I will never learn that this kind of stuff with him never lasts long, and that behavior (knock on wood), is gone already.  A quick phase, come and go, although we have a doctors appointment this afternoon that I am not canceling, just in case.

I think we, as parents, particularly moms, are hard on ourselves, I know I am.  I tend to take on the weight of the world.  And I certainly have "I suck as a mom" days, weeks, months, maybe years.  Michael favors Doug so predominately that you can't help but wonder if it is a personality thing or just simply the fact that I'm not a very good mom.

I know in my heart that is not true.  I'm starting to believe more and more that absent abuse or neglect kids are who they are.  I'm not really sure what we do matters all that much.  Now don't get me wrong.  I think we feed and clothe them and give them all the love and support and help they need.  You will never see a child more prepared for Kindergarten then Michael.  And at this point if he fails, well, then I think we have our answer.  Because there is nothing else we can do.  Then we know.  The problem is more organic.

Children are born with a personality.  And yes, we can shape and mold and nurture and try to change, but in the end, they are who they are.

Friday was Michael's last day at camp.  The last day I would walk into the school that changed us, that saved us.  One of his camp teachers stopped me to tell me, totally unsolicited, "you should be very proud.  He is a very polite and well mannered little boy.  You have obviously taught him very well."  And I think that may be the best thing anyone has every said about him.  That and when they told me he sticks up for the kid other kids pick on.

Somewhere, somehow, we are getting through to Michael.  We may not see it or know it now, but 20 years from now, he is going to make a damned fine adult.  Five isn't all bad either.  I just need to keep remembering that.

    _______________________

The winner of the Stoneyfield Gift pack was Hope.  Email me your address at jodi@lucidphoenix.com

Lather, Rinse, Repeat

I feel like I've been on a hamster wheel for the past year.  Maybe the past two years.  In constant motion, but not going anywhere.  We take Michael to all these doctors's appointments and evaluations to get answers like "well, he may have ADHD, he may not, I think we just have to watch him."  Thank you, now here is a very large check.  I'm glad I waited 5 months for your opinion.  I've been looking for a new job for years, and I'm getting nowhere on that front.  And just for kicks, I've started running, on the treadmill.  Talk about a hamster wheel.  My life has become "just keep swimming."

I don't want this to be a whiny, my life sucks blog post.  I hate whiny blog posts.  I want to hit those people and yell, "do something to change it."  My life does not suck.   My life is pretty damn good.  I'm just not going anywhere or doing anything.  And I just want SOMEONE to tell me what is going on with Michael.  If there is a problem, let's fix it.  And if not, fine, let's move on.

He has developed a new behavior, and I won't blog about because it is a total invasion of his privacy, but let's just say it is troublesome.  And developmentally inappropriate.  And we have seen the pediatrician, and his teachers are at a loss, and I've reached out to bloggy friends, and no one has any ideas.  I will tell you that it HAS to stop before kindergarten.  Which is in two weeks.  I'm a stressed out mess which is making it worse.  And it is going to turn me into an alcoholic.  And he has no interest in it stopping, I'm pretty sure because he knows it is driving me crazy.  And what we have, is a classic power struggle.

Last night I tweeted that I need a wine and cupcake delivery service.  Somehow one did not magically appear at my door.  I'm willing to strike a deal.  If someone delivers me cupcakes, I'll supply the wine.  Sound good? 

Thanks.

Change For The Good-Giveaway

About a year ago I started to make some significant changes to my diet.  Well, it is probably longer than that.  Two years ago I gave up diet coke and I think that was harder than giving up crack.  I'm not sure, I've never given up crack, but it was pretty damn hard.  From there I gave up white flour, and almost all processed foods.

And then, we did the hard thing.  We went almost all organic.  And no food dye.  Yes, it is expensive.  But it is not an expensive as you would think it would be.  You don't have to just shop at Whole Foods, although I shop there a lot.  You can also shop at Harris Teeter, My Organic Market, and even Target.

I have to tell you, my life changed for the better when this change was made.  My weight, which I had always struggled with, stabilized.  Michael's behavior changed, for the better.  My skin cleared up.  I felt better. 

This change seems drastic and preachy.  And granola crunchy.  And I'm not the crazy mom who will not let her kid have ice cream or cake at a birthday party.  We eat all organic IN MY HOUSE.  I recognize that not everyone else does and we also eat out.  Michael also eats like a normal 5 year old boy and is allowed the occasional treat.

I highly recommend the book The Unhealthy Truth.  It will scare the living daylights out of you about what is in your food and will give you good tips on how to make the change in a cost efficient manner.  I live by the 80/20 rule.  If you can eat well 80% of the time, it is okay for the other 20% of the time to be not so good.  I still love wine.  And cupcakes.

Stoneyfield* has been a big part of our movement towards organic.  The food is good, and affordable, and accessible.  They also have a great organic living section on their website.  Stoneyfield was kind enough to supply me with a prize pack to giveaway to a reader.  It includes something for you and a child in your life:

Top, left to right: Oikos tote bag, YoKids superhero cape

Middle, left to right: Oikos spatula, Stonyfield lunch bag, Eric Carle growth chart, Preserve travel bowl with lid, Stonyfield measuring spoon (under bowl)

Bottom: recipe cards, coupons

To enter, please leave a comment telling me what you have done or hope to do to lead a more organic or healthy lifestyle.  The contest is open until Sunday at 5.  A winner will be announced Monday morning and will be picked by some random method I have not decided yet.

****I was not compensated for this post.  Stoneyfield provided me with coupons for their products (which I already used) and will be sending the prize pack to the winner.

Guilt, It Is What's For Dinner

When I am at BlogHer, later this week (shit, I really need to pack), Michael will be staying with my sister, and his favorite person in the world, my nephew.  And for some reason I feel tremendously guilty about this.  Last year, when I went to BlogHer, I left Michael with Doug and never thought about it again.  But due to the worst timing in the world Doug also has a conference this weekend.  And I originally wasn't going to go to BlogHer.  But Doug got really sick of my whining and convinced me to ask my sister, and she gladly accepted (because she rocks), but still, I feel bad.

I feel bad for my sister, who has her own life, and her own family, and is taking on my own (challenging) child.  I feel bad for Michael, for leaving him to go to BlogHer.  Let's be honest here.  Blogging is a hobby for me.  It is not my job.  I leave Michael to go to my job 3 days a week, and I don't normally feel guilty about that, but just recently he gave me a hard time about not going on field trips this summer, which seemed to always be scheduled on days I could not get out of work.  And now, I'm leaving him again, for BlogHer.  I'm not going to BlogHer to "make contacts" or "build my brand" or for "work."  I'm going to BlogHer for fun.  And because I want to.  I'm leaving my child, because I want to.

Doug is too, but for some reason he has absolutely no guilt whatsoever.  How is it that moms and dads are built so differently?  And I know other people are leaving their kids.  Lots of people are traveling with their spouses.  Doug and I are essentially taking separate vacations and dumping my kid on family.

This is ok, right?  I know my sister doesn't mind, I've asked her like 20 times.  I've offered not to go any which way but Sunday.  And if it is a disaster I'll be home on Sunday.  (For the record, Michael told me he is always good for Aunt Heather and Aunt Heather, like Nanny, never gets mad at him.  He also used the expression "for the record."  I'm raising my clone.)

I just want to be able to relax at BlogHer and not worry about Michael.  Or my sister.  Anyone have any drink tickets they are not using?

***Please wish my mom a Happy Birthday.  She is the one who is making sure Michael gets to his field trip on Friday on time.  Thanks Mom!

Party Planner Michael

(Yes, we have power.  Thank you very little Pepco for the 50 hour outage.  And the 4 hour reprieve.  Just enough time to spend $200 in groceries in which I threw out half of them.  And a visit from Amy.  Moving on.  No one wants to hear me whine about that anymore.)

Michael is obsessed with planning his birthday party.  He talks about it constantly and is always changing his mind on what theme he wants.  He has invited his whole room from camp.  Which would be fine and normal except that his birthday is in MARCH.  March.  I would get this if his birthday was a month or two months away, but March?  I'm starting to feel really bad for the kids who think they are getting invited to Michael's birthday party with ponies and light sabers and dinosaurs and water balloons (the last four themes he has come up with) and that invitation is never going to come.  Because by March, Michael will have a whole new set of Kindergarten friends and he will have forgotten all these kids.

I feel like what he is doing is mean.  Taunting these children with a birthday party that is never going to happen.  Well, it is going to happen, but not for 8 MONTHS.  8 months. 

What is this new obsession with a birthday that is 8 months away?  Do we not get that it is 8 months away?  Is it the only way he knows how to make friends?  Is he going to be the one in college having all the dorm room parties?  Are we just understanding the concept of birthdays and it is TOO BIG TOO MUCH TOO EXCITING?

I'm not sure I can talk about Michael's 6th birthday for 8 more months.  It is really not that interesting of a topic.  Is he going to start planning his Bar Mitzvah at 9?

In Which Buying School Supplies Causes Me To Have A Complete Meltdown

On Friday I decided to start Michael's school supply shopping.  Yes, it is only July, but we are literally out of town EVERY WEEKEND between now and the start of school and I do not want to be doing it the night before school.  I've been at Target the night before school starts, never again.  I want Michael's start of Kindergarten to be as stress free as possible, so I figured what could go wrong on a random Friday in July.

First of all, I forgot the list  I managed to pull it up on my iphone, to discover that Michael's kindergarten school supply list consisted of-

Backpack (large enough for a binder to fit in);  glue sticks; 
box of Crayola crayons.
 
I wanted him to pick out his own backpack, so I made a special trip to the store to purchase glue sticks, and crayons.  I felt like moron.  Possibly looking at the list BEFORE going shopping might have been a good call.  And then I walked into the school supply aisle. 

And called Doug.

"Doug the list says crayons.  How many crayons?  The big box?  The small box?  And how many boxes?  And glue sticks?  Do you know how many different kinds of glue sticks there are?  Who the hell wrote this list?  Could they be less specific?"  He was at work.  And he didn't yell at me.  Yes, I know, he deserves some kind of husband award.  Instead, he brought me flowers that night.

And lets not go into the 20 donated items they ask for.  Am I supposed to get one?  All 20?  A couple? "Kleenex."  A BOX?  BOXES?  WHAT DO YOU WANT?

HELP.

I ended up spending 6 dollars on 2 boxes of crayons, a box of glue sticks, and a box of markers from the donate list and I left the store with such a pit in my stomach and a desire to burst into tears.  I cannot even buy SCHOOL SUPPLIES.  And I'm not one of these MY BABY IS GOING TO KINDERGARTEN MOMS.  I'm too busy worrying it is all going to fall apart again. 

I sense the transition to Kindergarten is not going to be as easy peasy as I had hoped.  And perhaps I am just a tad stressed about it?  I've also given up sleeping.  Which is my normal reaction to stress, but that could be due to a number of things I'm stressed out about at this given moment.