Back Where He Belongs

I didn't cry when he left. And I cried maybe once when he was gone.

But I cried like a baby when he came back. And days later, I'm still teary-eyed.

I'm glad he's back.



Incidentally, we're in Minnesota, celebrating my grandparents' 56th anniversary.

Sweating the Small Things

The other night, I had one of the most pleasant dreams of my life.

I dreamed I was helping E get dressed in the morning.

I gave him a choice of shirts. And he rejected both and proceeded to empty his entire shirt drawer in search of the perfect shirt. He does that because he insists I don't pick cool shirts for him. He's a bit of a brat....I watched him pick shorts and undergarment and socks. I argued with him about the merits of wearing his adorable green sneakers that reflect so nicely on his (and his mom's) coolness versus his old clunky tennis shoes that are a size too big for him...

I know, I know, not exactly earth-shattering or even that interesting to write about. But it really illustrated to me what I find precious about my time with him. It's not necessarily the big events like taking him to the zoo or playing with him at the park. Although those are wonderful as well. But the things that I really miss are the everyday things that I don't even think about when he's here and when they're commonplace.

The other day I was driving and absentmindedly reached back toward the back seat, looking for a small hand to grasp. It wasn't until the hand wasn't there that I realized how frequently I perform that particular maneuver.

For another example, I was saddened by my laundry last week. I enjoy doing laundry usually (I know, it's such a housewifely thing for me to actually enjoy doing...). I like that it takes a short time to see results and that at the end of the procedure, you have a bunch of clean clothing that you probably forgot you even owned in the intervening time between when you threw the article in question into the laundry basket, and removed it on Laundry Day. Not that I have a Laundry Day, per se. Laundry Day is Whenever Mommy Has Time Day, in my establishment.

But anyway, the cleansing of tiny socks that wouldn't be worn for some time, and the folding of countless tiny shirts that would go unworn, was inexplicably sad.

Good thing he's coming home on Thursday, huh?

A Guest Post for Your Consideration

"My rant against a facebook group about kids in college classrooms"
By: my sister (sorry about the copyright or whatever, kiddo. Get your own blog...)

4:13pm 06/14/07

So a while ago I came across a facebook group dedicated to keeping children of students out of the college classrooms. Their message was, if memory serves, three-fold: children are distracting, get a sitter, don't allow people who haven't paid for the privilege to sit in on a college class.

This particularly incensed me in that I have known parents who have had no choice but to take their children to class. I have even had to take my sweet, darling baby nephew to a voice lesson and he was an angel! Last minute cancellations and insufficient funds are among the myriad reasons why one might be compelled to bring their child to class.

The group complained about children being distracting to which I might answer that people in general are distracting. The world is distracting. Get over it. Harsh as it may seem, the classroom environment is rarely one that is free of diversions (with the possible exception of test days). I would find the antics of junior playing quietly with his cars in the corner no less enthralling than the kid who sits next to me talking to his buddy the whole time. And don't even try to tell me that everyone in the class is always focused 100% on the material being presented. And those who are should be used to narrowing the focus of their concentration.

Simply getting a sitter for one's child is not always an option. Many parents already have sitters in place or day care or preschool in which their children are enrolled. But complications with such plans are unavoidable, and there are the occasions where the parent is left without recourse to those secondary care providers. The parent is then left with the option of either remaining at home to care for the child, or taking that same child to class with them. I would hazard a guess that the grand majority of the time, the parent would opt to remain home with the child. It's not like anyone is all excited to bring their kid in the middle of somewhere where the kid isn't welcome.

But there are times when doing so is unavoidable. Sometimes it is imperative for one to attend class - like say for an important lecture or to pick up some materials or for a quiz. On days where it is critical for one to attend class, the addition of a child is what one may call a 'necessary evil'. However, as I have already speculated, I think that this is more than likely the exception rather than the rule to bringing one's child to class and as long as it is not a habitual occurrence I think it behooves the student population to demonstrate a modicum of tolerance. But that's just me.

The last complaint (I believe) was that students paid for the privilege of attending classes, and to bring someone in - even if that someone was a five year old who had no concept of the materials being discussed - who hadn't paid was cheapening the academic experience of the students. In making such assertions of course, they ignore the fact that many people who haven't paid to attend the class make appearances: potential students or even friends who just want to sit in on the class. Perhaps if these dissenters could adjust their thinking to include children as potential students there would be no problem. Then there is of course the fact that students' attendance is sketchy at best and if attendance is used to gauge the value of the class it appears variable by student. The fact that a parent would still want to attend class, even with a child in tow, would thereby imply that the class was of some value to that person. If paying a fee grants the privilege of attendance, then parents who've paid tuition should have the same right to attend class.

Accusations of bad parenting were lobbed by this group against the parents who bring their children to class, their argument being that kids will not enjoy sitting through a college class. If it was considered bad parenting on every occasion in which a parent brought a child somewhere where the latter would not enjoy it, then how many church outings, doctor's visits, car rides would be condemned as bad parenting? I would argue that the parent doing well in class - and by extension doing well in college and earning one's degree - is tied to the welfare of the child.

The existence of this group demonstrates a narrow-mindedness to the difficulties that arise when a person is both a student and a parent, particularly when one is a single parent. Decisions must be made while weighing the complex issues at hand, and parents deserve a little respect for their heroic efforts. Basically what I'm saying to this facebook group (who probably will never read a word of this rant) is that as long as this isn't a perpetual problem in the classroom, grow up and try to demonstrate a little sympathy and understanding. Trust me, you'll be better off for it.

One is the loneliest number...

I'm sorry if I'm still extraordinarily morose in this forum. It's really the only place where I'm allowing myself to be so. I keep a stiff upper lip and all that jazz in the real world. I'm really not that depressed. Just...incomplete, I suppose.

Before E left, he and I had several talks about his visit to his dad. I gently reminded him that it would seem like a really long time, but that I would always be back to get him (and screw you, people who say that you should never say things like that to kids, it makes us both feel better!), like I always have been. We went through the usual "Why are you making me go to Daddy Zak's house?", which is always a fun conversation to have with a child...He said that he'd miss me, but that he wouldn't cry. And I (because I'm apparently completely anti-gender roles) said, "well, you know that it's O.K. to cry if you miss someone, or because you're sad. It's not all right to cry when you're not getting your own way." The poor kid said, "But they don't like when I cry." Which, what can I say to that? No one likes it when kids cry! And how do you explain the difference to a child?! I said something like, "They'll understand if you cry because you're sad." (And that was probably completely the wrong thing to say, whatever, shut up!)

I got to witness E having the same conversation with my dad. Except E was the one to gently comfort his Poppa: "I'm going to be gone for a long time, Poppa, and you're going to miss me.
But I'll be back, so don't be too sad." Sniff.

And then, right before he was about to go, as I was putting on his shoes, he asked "Mom, will you be in my heart?"


Don't ever have kids. They'll kill you with their cuteness.

Getting Back into the Swing of Things...

EDIT: I added a post from May. Find it below or here

It's hard to be a SAHM. I couldn't even manage it for one week without practically going crazy. Now, don't get me wrong, I adore my son and I would give anything to be able to spend more time with him during the school year. But he wears me the heck out. I feel kind of sorry for my parents, who watched him almost non-stop this past semester, when he wasn't in preschool. He must have driven them crazy. And naturally, having to deal with Mommy's discipline methods after having spent all this time basking in the relative leniency of adoring grandparents was a bit difficult for both of us. Especially since that difficulty translated itself into whining and hissy fits....(ok, ok, for both E and me. Shut up.)

So I initiated the "star chart." Basically, for every day that E manages to not piss me off doesn't whine or throw a hissy fit, he gets a star sticker. And then after so many stars, he gets a small present. Since he's four, the goal for stars starts at 4, then goes to 5, 6, 7, you get the point. It's actually worked quite well, and before he left for his dad's house, he had gotten 4 stars in 5 days, and a Transformer was the reward. (Yeah, yeah, it's not exactly small, but he was leaving for 2 weeks, go easy on me...)

It took FOREVER to explain it to him. It kind of went like this:

Evan: How many stars do I need to get a present?
Mom: Well, first, you need 4 stars. After you get 4, you'll get a small present.
Evan: I have a star right now, let me put it on the chart.
Mom: No way, Jose, you get stars for being good. Not just because.
Evan: But I AM good!
Mom: I mean, when you don't whine or cry. Or scream.
Evan: Oh. Well, then what happens?
Mom: For every day that you don't whine or cry (or scream), you'll get one star to put on your chart.
Evan: ....And then what?
Mom: Then, after you get 4 stars, you can have a present!
Evan: What kind of present?
Mom: A small one.
Evan: When?
Mom: Oh, for God's sake, when you get 4 stars!!
Evan: Well, I have a star right here...

A Little Bit at a Loss

So, E left Tuesday to spend 2 weeks with his dad, and I am, as the title so clearly states, a little bit at a loss for words. And for what to do with myself while he's gone. I mean, I'd like to think I'm not one of those parents who's completely and utterly wrapped up in my child. But the fact is that he's larger than life for me (I mean, how could he not be, he's pretty much a midget...) and when he's gone, life seems a lot more bland.

No cutesy things to post about. No mommy issues banging around in my head. No goodnight stories. No spontaneous kisses. No counting to three. And then five. And then ten.

Just silence. And much sleeping in. Which, granted, I'm not complaining about that, per se. But I do rather miss my alarm clock.

Xbox and the internet do their best to keep me occupied, but they're only human constructs. My son is a gift from God. And it's rather difficult to not get hung up on how wide the gap really is.

So I'm trying not to post, to prevent myself from becoming far too lachrymose. I may go back and finish some of the posts that I just grew bored of before they made it into the stark reality of the web. Keep your eyes open.

And think of something for me to do.