I heard the faint music of a harmonica. I looked outside my window to see a colleague of mine on the playground blowing a happy tune with a trail of children behind her marching around in the lunchtime parade. I got tears in my eyes because my little girl was in the parade. It made me think about all the special people in the world who devote their time to nurturing my children.
You have a baby and if you're lucky, you stay home with him/her as long as you can. Many of us return to work and leave our babies with someone whom we feel will take care of them the way we would. It isn't easy at first. Then, day by day it gets easier. We find our routine and we stop worrying about our little ones as much as we plod through our piles at work just waiting to be home with them again.
Many people don't really know the love that goes into a career working with children. When I started teaching, I was 24 years old. I had no idea that the kids who were dropped off at my doorstep each morning were such amazing miracles. No idea. To me they were kids who were learning their alphabet and I liked them a lot so I kept teaching. Today, 15 years later...I have a different story to tell about what I do for a living.
Today, I teach your babies. I teach the people whom you gave birth to 5 years ago. A blink of an eye and they are already in school. Some of them still bring their blankies in their backpacks. They pick their boogers and cry when they can't get their zippers up on their pants. It is my job to zip and snap and to make sure your baby can read and write by May. It's a big job.
More importantly. I teach your babies to be happy. I teach your babies to accept one another and be patient with each other. I teach your babies to stop and investigate the little things that seem unimportant, but are in fact very important. I sit with your children when they miss you and remind them that you miss them too but it won't be long. I redo their fallen pony tails and fix loose earrings. I make belts out of string and shirts out of aprons. I give part of my lunch to those who forgot theirs. I honestly care about your kid the way you hope I will.
I don't write this to make myself feel good. I write this because I am one of millions of people who care for your children. People who have decided to keep a piece of their heart just for your child. I know these people. I work with many of them. In the morning when I kiss my babies goodbye, I know that they will be cared for by people who see them for who they are. My babies.
Now go buy your child's teacher a coffee before school. She probably would love one.
My advice for you today. Don't be a wuss. Parent like you mean it.
Parenting is really hard. Only because as your child gets older and wiser, life gets busier. You get to a point where you actually have to make sure you are paying attention to the little things that happen that shape the relationship you have with your child.
A typical morning here starts with one or both of my children being angry at me. Angry because they are cold, tired, or both. And it is my fault they are getting out of their bed. My good morning kiss on the forehead is met with growling and some sort of not-so-friendly reciprocal physical contact. I have learned to say good morning and run away to make myself a cup of tea before the war begins.
The battle over what to wear. Door slam. The battle over the clothes being too tight and she hates the way they feel. Door slam. The battle over me reminding her every 10 minutes that she is going to miss breakfast. Door slam.
I am trying to be as assertive as I can. As consistent as I can be. As patient as I can be. It is not uncommon for me to stand outside her door for a minute reminding myself that I am the parent before opening the door to remind her as well. Sometimes there is no appropriate punishment for the irrational behavior of a child who is becoming her own person. But. There are privileges that children who slam doors aren't mature enough to have. Don't forget that. Children are not entitled to the toys and crap they have all over their floor. They are entitled to a safe home, food, clothing, and love. Not iPads.
Those moments where you feel that you are losing control of the situation. Step back. Take a breath. Then get back in there and take back the control. She'll only get it if you give it to her.
Children who scream and cry and yell mean things at you must be really tired. They should go to bed early so they can catch up on some sleep. After all, only tired kids behave that way.
Don't be afraid to walk away from a boogie board at the beach that she refuses to carry. Remind her that another child will be happy to find it and then keep walking. Don't look back. Don't. She'll pick it up. If in the slight chance she leaves it there. Too bad for her.
Let her go to bed hungry. You told her to eat and she chose not to. Don't cave in and give her a bowl of cereal before bed. You provided her a warm meal and she chose to play around. She won't starve. The growling belly is a good reminder for her tomorrow.
At the end of the day when all situations have been diffused and all is right in the world again, resist the urge to let her stay up later and snuggle with you. As much as it makes you sad to do it...remind her that she lost 20 minutes of her evening from her behavior earlier and hold her to it.
I sometimes feel powerless against the monster of childhood but I'm not. I'm OK with being hated in the morning. By mid day I'm "the best mom ever" again and I have a couple tally marks up on the score board of motherhood. I am definitely keeping score. I'm gonna win this one because when mom and dad win, the world is full of much better people.
Be the change you want to see in your parenting.
Do any of you watch Parenthood? Brian and I are ALWAYS years late when it comes to watching shows. We watch all of our shows on DVDs and are always behind. So, we are currently in the first of four seasons of this show. We've watched only a handful of episodes. I can't stop thinking about it. Every time I watch it- I relate to Adam and Kristina. It is hard for me to watch them deal with their son Max who sometimes reminds me of Mack. Yes, I know it is fiction. Ours isn't- so it sometimes is hard for me to watch.
Mid December we decided to begin a Ritalin trial with Mack. I carried the prescription around in my purse for a week before I filled it. It was all wrinkled and sad when I handed it to the pharmacist- who turned out to be someone I know which felt awkward. Then, it took me two days to find the "right" time to do it because we didn't know what to expect. I gave her the first dose on a Sunday morning and watched. She was a bit agitated but for the first couple hours, she was as active as ever. Then. Three hours after the dose- she began running. And running. It was a very intense run. I video taped it so I could show the doctor.
A few days went by when we went to see her therapist. I showed her the video as proof of how well/not well the meds were working. After watching the video she asked if we have ever talked about Autism. Gulp. She noted the way Mack was running in the video and asked if I had other videos. She asked if Mack does other repetitive things. Um, yes. Gulp.
I began video taping. Play dates. Lining up chocolate chips on the table before eating. Spinning. Rocking herself to sleep. Hitting the table incessantly. Little things that I have always seen and wondered about but now feel a bit worried about. Funny because when you know these things about your child, it is just who they are. When you video tape them purposely and then watch them. It's kinda weird.
I have no idea what will come of the testing. Really, it won't change anything. Mackenzie is a handful. And, Ritalin didn't help. So, ever onward. If she is found to be on the spectrum, she'll qualify for some help. That's a good thing for all of us. Most likely she will test well as usual and won't qualify for anything. Then we'll be back to where we have been for a long time. Stickers, Skittle Moons, and deep breaths.
Many many many deep breaths.
