Last night it was revealed to us, just minutes before prayer, that our nine-year-old daughter was short a FEW Valentine cards/lollipops for her classmates. Here's the problem: she had a box of 30 Sponge Bob cards and 30 heart-shaped lollipops. There are 23 students in her class and one teacher. I wasn't the top student in Math throughout my education but... she had enough to go around and she should have have six left.
Well she showed us the box- did I mention she brought this to our attention just before going to bed the night before Valentine's Day? There were 25 cards and six lollipops. Daddy looked like he wanted to touch the cards and candy, produce a miracle and multiply them. Our last name does begin with a J but... the only thing we could do was make a trip to a store.
We weren't about to do that. She had to learn.
I could just picture her with her feet up, laughing at us- I mean a cartoon- suckiing on lollipops... with her brother beside her, biting his.
I snapped out of it when Daddy said, "You know what! You just go in there and fill out your cards and you will have to explain to your friends why you gave them a Sponge Bob card with two holes in it but no lollipop!"
I hadn't thought of that.
So she went in her room and filled them out.
Five minutes later...
"Mommy, Daddy! I need two more cards."
We looked at each other. Then at her.
"Why?" we asked in unison.
"Well I messed up on two of them," she softly replied.
Daddy looked through the cards. Pulled one out of the deck as if he were David Blaine.
"Why would you write your name on a card and from yourself?"
I was done.
So we told her she would have to explain to the two friends who were left, why they didn't get a card with two holes in it nor any candy.
When I picked them up from school this afternoon she skipped to the van with a wide smile on her face.
She slid the door closed, buckled her belt and began cheerfully revealing how much fun she and her classmates had.
"Mommy, guess what?"
I didn't answer. It didn't matter.
"My friends loved my Valentine cards! They liked them because they were Sponge Bob!" Then she went on and on talking with her brother the entire way home, about their day.
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Monday, February 14, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
TOUGH
Parenting can be so difficult at times. We want to teach them to do the right things in myriad situations especially when we are not around. We are supposed to prepare them to live and be productive citizens in this crazy world one day. Sometimes the lessons I try to teach just miss or get interpreted incorrectly.
Our little seven-year-old has gone through some funny stages: at three we caught him debating with his young daycare teacher... regularly. Just picture a vertically-challenged, curly-haired, almond-shaped, tight-eyed boy sitting at a table- feet dangling- eating mac-n-cheese and in between bites telling his 21-year-old teacher, "Call my Mama! Just see what's gone happen!" (chewing) "Don't call my Daddy 'cause he at work." I think he was just being a little James Dean because he was used to being at home with Mommy. Him- I mean he wasn't ready for Mommy to go back to work. Then when he reached kindergarten, he was definitely a lot more reserved and definitely eliminated the defiance at daycare.
In first grade teachers- everyone- thought he walked on water. Now that we have moved and he is in second grade he has so timid and easily scared by many things, not just Chick-fil-A, Disney characters and Chuck-E-Cheese.
So Daddy and I are always talking to him about standing up for himself. Teaching kids to stand up for themselves can be tricky because while we are cognizant of bullying we don't want to teach fighting. Unfortunately a child could be targeted, even in the best elementary schools, if he or she doesn't stand up to others. Just the other day he was asking us if we thought he was tough.
It took us some time to teach him to ride a bike because he was so scared to fall. Understandable I guess. So we gingerly helped him to ride by basically WALKING beside him as he rode around our grassy yard with his helmet on. Sharp contrast to how I learned. My mom removed the training wheels, put me on my bike at the top of a small hill in our neighborhood and said, "You better ride this bike or you gone bust your head in front of all yo' friends out here!" Just before pushing me off. No holding the bike up while I rode around. Didn't have a helmet either. But I learned how to ride my bike with Aces and Spades clothes-pinned to the spokes of my tires, flapping in the breeze.
Tuesday when I picked the kids up from school, our son immediately got my blood pressure up. "Mama... I got into a fight today on the playground!" he told me with slight excitement.
"WHAT?" I panicked.
"Well we were playing Vampires and Werewolves and this girl named ******* kept putting her hands on me so I pushed her."
I felt like I had vertigo... "You got into a fight with a girl?"
I'm driving out of the school parking lot- looking at the road and at him sitting in the seat behind the front passenger seat- feet still dangling.
"Well she wouldn't stop touching me."
Shaking my head. Trying to make sense of it.
"Then me and ****** picked up a rock and acted like were gonna hit her."
I swerved.
"What!!!!" Couldn't believe it. "What did I tell you about being a follower?" I yelled.
"No Mama... I picked up a rock first!"
I was livid.
I cannot believe your teacher didn't call me.
"We had a substitution. I think she was 92-years-old and she don't like tattle-tales," he somberly said.
Then he leaned over toward his sister and disappointingly said, "I thought Mama and Daddy would be proud that I got into a fight."
Our little seven-year-old has gone through some funny stages: at three we caught him debating with his young daycare teacher... regularly. Just picture a vertically-challenged, curly-haired, almond-shaped, tight-eyed boy sitting at a table- feet dangling- eating mac-n-cheese and in between bites telling his 21-year-old teacher, "Call my Mama! Just see what's gone happen!" (chewing) "Don't call my Daddy 'cause he at work." I think he was just being a little James Dean because he was used to being at home with Mommy. Him- I mean he wasn't ready for Mommy to go back to work. Then when he reached kindergarten, he was definitely a lot more reserved and definitely eliminated the defiance at daycare.
In first grade teachers- everyone- thought he walked on water. Now that we have moved and he is in second grade he has so timid and easily scared by many things, not just Chick-fil-A, Disney characters and Chuck-E-Cheese.
So Daddy and I are always talking to him about standing up for himself. Teaching kids to stand up for themselves can be tricky because while we are cognizant of bullying we don't want to teach fighting. Unfortunately a child could be targeted, even in the best elementary schools, if he or she doesn't stand up to others. Just the other day he was asking us if we thought he was tough.
It took us some time to teach him to ride a bike because he was so scared to fall. Understandable I guess. So we gingerly helped him to ride by basically WALKING beside him as he rode around our grassy yard with his helmet on. Sharp contrast to how I learned. My mom removed the training wheels, put me on my bike at the top of a small hill in our neighborhood and said, "You better ride this bike or you gone bust your head in front of all yo' friends out here!" Just before pushing me off. No holding the bike up while I rode around. Didn't have a helmet either. But I learned how to ride my bike with Aces and Spades clothes-pinned to the spokes of my tires, flapping in the breeze.
Tuesday when I picked the kids up from school, our son immediately got my blood pressure up. "Mama... I got into a fight today on the playground!" he told me with slight excitement.
"WHAT?" I panicked.
"Well we were playing Vampires and Werewolves and this girl named ******* kept putting her hands on me so I pushed her."
I felt like I had vertigo... "You got into a fight with a girl?"
I'm driving out of the school parking lot- looking at the road and at him sitting in the seat behind the front passenger seat- feet still dangling.
"Well she wouldn't stop touching me."
Shaking my head. Trying to make sense of it.
"Then me and ****** picked up a rock and acted like were gonna hit her."
I swerved.
"What!!!!" Couldn't believe it. "What did I tell you about being a follower?" I yelled.
"No Mama... I picked up a rock first!"
I was livid.
I cannot believe your teacher didn't call me.
"We had a substitution. I think she was 92-years-old and she don't like tattle-tales," he somberly said.
Then he leaned over toward his sister and disappointingly said, "I thought Mama and Daddy would be proud that I got into a fight."
Thursday, January 20, 2011
It's the Thought That Counts... I Think
Well... what did Daddy get for his birthday from the kids? Drum roll please...
I have to set this up for you now, you know that.
So, I picked the kids up from school today and we are five minutes from the house when our son says, "Mama! Did Daddy remember to tell you to bring my money and Walmart card?" He won the Walmart card by selling popcorn for his Cub Scout pack. That $20 card has been burning his hand.
"Um, no he did not and I am almost home now."
"Now I can't get Daddy a birthday present," he sighed.
I asked how much he planned to spend on a gift.
"Well, you know I can't spend a lot because I gotta get me something," he confessed.
So I continued home.
We were getting out of the van when they stumbled upon something they could give Daddy. It had been in the back pocket of the driver's seat for about a week. It WASN'T used! That was a good start.
It was a Shrek watch our daughter got from her Happy Meal box.
They were so excited!
They rushed in the house to wrap it. There wasn't any masking tape in the house... Thank God! So they put it in a regular envelope and over-licked it before sealing.
"How much time do we have before Daddy gets home from work?" our daughter panicked.
I checked the huge clock on the wall just behind her. "Probably about ten minutes," I told her.
She snatched a piece of paper from the printer, a black, leaky pen and made him a Birthday card before he came home.
Her brother wouldn't be outdone when he saw Daddy hugging her once he opened the envelope and read his card.
"Here you go Daddy," he said in a slow voice with his head down.
"What's this?" Daddy smiled as our son handed him a twenty dollar bill.
The flood gates were about to open.
I couldn't help it... I cracked up. He didn't want to give him the money- we all knew that.
"Oh that's okay. Thanks for thinking about me but you can keep it," Daddy smiled.
Our son snatched that money back so quick and flopped on the couch. I didn't see him do it, but I know he wanted to wipe that small brow.
They presented it to him as soon as he came through the door.
I have to set this up for you now, you know that.
So, I picked the kids up from school today and we are five minutes from the house when our son says, "Mama! Did Daddy remember to tell you to bring my money and Walmart card?" He won the Walmart card by selling popcorn for his Cub Scout pack. That $20 card has been burning his hand.
"Um, no he did not and I am almost home now."
"Now I can't get Daddy a birthday present," he sighed.
I asked how much he planned to spend on a gift.
"Well, you know I can't spend a lot because I gotta get me something," he confessed.
So I continued home.
We were getting out of the van when they stumbled upon something they could give Daddy. It had been in the back pocket of the driver's seat for about a week. It WASN'T used! That was a good start.
It was a Shrek watch our daughter got from her Happy Meal box.
They were so excited!
They rushed in the house to wrap it. There wasn't any masking tape in the house... Thank God! So they put it in a regular envelope and over-licked it before sealing.
"How much time do we have before Daddy gets home from work?" our daughter panicked.
I checked the huge clock on the wall just behind her. "Probably about ten minutes," I told her.
She snatched a piece of paper from the printer, a black, leaky pen and made him a Birthday card before he came home.
Her brother wouldn't be outdone when he saw Daddy hugging her once he opened the envelope and read his card.
"Here you go Daddy," he said in a slow voice with his head down.
"What's this?" Daddy smiled as our son handed him a twenty dollar bill.
The flood gates were about to open.
I couldn't help it... I cracked up. He didn't want to give him the money- we all knew that.
"Oh that's okay. Thanks for thinking about me but you can keep it," Daddy smiled.
Our son snatched that money back so quick and flopped on the couch. I didn't see him do it, but I know he wanted to wipe that small brow.
They presented it to him as soon as he came through the door.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Giving
Tomorrow is Daddy's 40th birthday! I guess our kids are really growing up and using those critical thinking skills parents and educators often push, because they actually asked Daddy what he likes! Does this mean that we no longer have to don our Oscar hats when we open their gifts?
Two years ago they used a whole role of masking tape to wrap gifts for us and the grandparents. I received an old, half-naked, Barbie knock-off. "Oh wow! Thanks babies!" I smiled, sucking my finger- wounded from breaking through the layers of tape. Dude, I mean Daddy, was blessed with one of the dinosaurs our son received the prior year. We knew what it was before he tore the paper. I'm assuming wrapping the tail was a little difficult for them. It was probably because the one box they had was used to envelope Grandma's gift. The adults tried out best to refrain from laughing when she tore off her paper. She received three red, plastic apples missing from our kitchen, and they were strategically placed in a General Tso's chicken box, we purchased from Walmart at some point, for dinner.
So I was moved when they asked what kinds of things Daddy likes... a day before his birthday. And they have money- that's the kicker!
"Daddy I know you like The First 48 show so I think I'm gonna get you the DVDs!"
I had to inform him that he would have to order the DVDs and there was no way he could get them by tomorrow.
"Yes we can when we go to WalmarK after school tomorrow," he informed me.
"I didn't know we were going to Walmart tomorrow after school," I replied.
A few days ago he was asking to go so he could get some cartoon on DVD.
"Then I can get Daddy's gift when I get that DVD I told you about."
He had it all worked out.
"How much money do you have?"
He ran to get his money from one of his myriad Captain Underpants' book.
"I've got thirty dollars Mama."
So I told him to think of something else to get him since we didn't have much time and he actually came up with another good suggestion.
"Well I could get him a Yankees hat."
We all like the Yankees and Miami Hurricanes so that was a good idea.
"That is a good idea and there is a store in the mall that has a really nice one," I told him.
"How much does it cost Mama?"
Uh oh.
"It's only $19.99!" I smiled.
Long pause. Then the nostrils flared as he sipped his Capri Sun.
"Well I can't get him that. I won't have enough to get MY DVD and I can't do that. That's not right."
So Daddy may need to rehearse tonight because there is not telling what he may find wrapped up tomorrow and what it may be in. I haven't seen our son's Star Wars life saber in a few months.
Two years ago they used a whole role of masking tape to wrap gifts for us and the grandparents. I received an old, half-naked, Barbie knock-off. "Oh wow! Thanks babies!" I smiled, sucking my finger- wounded from breaking through the layers of tape. Dude, I mean Daddy, was blessed with one of the dinosaurs our son received the prior year. We knew what it was before he tore the paper. I'm assuming wrapping the tail was a little difficult for them. It was probably because the one box they had was used to envelope Grandma's gift. The adults tried out best to refrain from laughing when she tore off her paper. She received three red, plastic apples missing from our kitchen, and they were strategically placed in a General Tso's chicken box, we purchased from Walmart at some point, for dinner.
So I was moved when they asked what kinds of things Daddy likes... a day before his birthday. And they have money- that's the kicker!
"Daddy I know you like The First 48 show so I think I'm gonna get you the DVDs!"
I had to inform him that he would have to order the DVDs and there was no way he could get them by tomorrow.
"Yes we can when we go to WalmarK after school tomorrow," he informed me.
"I didn't know we were going to Walmart tomorrow after school," I replied.
A few days ago he was asking to go so he could get some cartoon on DVD.
"Then I can get Daddy's gift when I get that DVD I told you about."
He had it all worked out.
"How much money do you have?"
He ran to get his money from one of his myriad Captain Underpants' book.
"I've got thirty dollars Mama."
So I told him to think of something else to get him since we didn't have much time and he actually came up with another good suggestion.
"Well I could get him a Yankees hat."
We all like the Yankees and Miami Hurricanes so that was a good idea.
"That is a good idea and there is a store in the mall that has a really nice one," I told him.
"How much does it cost Mama?"
Uh oh.
"It's only $19.99!" I smiled.
Long pause. Then the nostrils flared as he sipped his Capri Sun.
"Well I can't get him that. I won't have enough to get MY DVD and I can't do that. That's not right."
So Daddy may need to rehearse tonight because there is not telling what he may find wrapped up tomorrow and what it may be in. I haven't seen our son's Star Wars life saber in a few months.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
I CAN WIN ONE... By Any Means Necessary!
Two years ago when our son was entering kindergarten, we were told that he has a condition called "amblyopia". It is an eye problem that causes loss of or poor vision in one or both eyes. It can affect both eyes but usually one. It is the common cause of vision problems in children. All babies are born with poor vision but it gets better as they develop. What happened with our son is that his brain never corrected the problem in his left eye so his right eye just became stronger and ultimately how he was viewing the world. I'm not an opthamologist... but I did sleep in a Holiday Inn once. We never noticed any indicators that he had a visual problem prior to kindergarten. He never sat close to the television, never squinted nor did his eye cross. We had no idea until he had a Health Assessment completed for kindergarten. We were referred to a local specialist, then had to drive to a specialist at Duke to discuss treatments.
The staff had a difficult time trying to get drops in his eyes to check him. That was a task to say the least. Didn't know he could be so strong. Mention eye drops, clowns and Chick-fil-a cow and he could go Incredible Hulk on ya- busting out of a Gymboree shirt- minus the green stuff.
Treatment for him has been to patch his stronger eye in order to make the brain tell his weaker eye to work. And, thankfully, his vision has improved. The first time I patched, I put the patch over the lens of his glasses. I snapped a picture of my cute little, curly-haired, son with his Toy Story eye patch... over the glasses. I immediately sent the picture to Daddy! His reply: "Maybe it me but thnk it may b betr if u put ptch ovr i!"
Not sure what I was thinking.
He doesn't love wearing the patch and glasses because he has to sit up close to see things better. It's like switching from bottles to breast feeding- you have to work harder to get results once you are used to the easy way.
Well I just reminded Daddy that we had gotten a little lazy about making him patch and you know he is not going to remind us.
Yesterday we were all playing the WI games. Daddy and the kids play it a lot more than I do. They each like to play against me because... as I said I don't play often so I'm not good.
Daddy and his sister were whipping up on him so he said, "I wanna play Mama!"
They all snickered.
I put the strap on my wrist and stood up ready to play.
He showed no mercy on the first two games. His confidence was up! He began bragging a bit.
He was smiling- showing all the tiny teeth on the sides (no teeth in front right now)
I quickly interrupted- "Go get a patch and your glasses! You haven't been patching for a while!"
"Oh that's foul!" Daddy said. "Mama playin' dirty!" he added as he sat back in his chair.
Can't win them all but I can win one. ;o)
The staff had a difficult time trying to get drops in his eyes to check him. That was a task to say the least. Didn't know he could be so strong. Mention eye drops, clowns and Chick-fil-a cow and he could go Incredible Hulk on ya- busting out of a Gymboree shirt- minus the green stuff.
Treatment for him has been to patch his stronger eye in order to make the brain tell his weaker eye to work. And, thankfully, his vision has improved. The first time I patched, I put the patch over the lens of his glasses. I snapped a picture of my cute little, curly-haired, son with his Toy Story eye patch... over the glasses. I immediately sent the picture to Daddy! His reply: "Maybe it me but thnk it may b betr if u put ptch ovr i!"
Not sure what I was thinking.
He doesn't love wearing the patch and glasses because he has to sit up close to see things better. It's like switching from bottles to breast feeding- you have to work harder to get results once you are used to the easy way.
Well I just reminded Daddy that we had gotten a little lazy about making him patch and you know he is not going to remind us.
Yesterday we were all playing the WI games. Daddy and the kids play it a lot more than I do. They each like to play against me because... as I said I don't play often so I'm not good.
Daddy and his sister were whipping up on him so he said, "I wanna play Mama!"
They all snickered.
I put the strap on my wrist and stood up ready to play.
He showed no mercy on the first two games. His confidence was up! He began bragging a bit.
He was smiling- showing all the tiny teeth on the sides (no teeth in front right now)
I quickly interrupted- "Go get a patch and your glasses! You haven't been patching for a while!"
"Oh that's foul!" Daddy said. "Mama playin' dirty!" he added as he sat back in his chair.
Can't win them all but I can win one. ;o)
Friday, December 24, 2010
A Threat to Santa
Hi! My name is Melissa and SOMETIMES I may be a dysfunctional parent. Is there a group or Two-Step Program for people like me? Oh and Dude. We are one flesh!
We forget to put money under the kids' pillows when they lose teeth. We spell words in front of the kids only to have the kids figure the word out before we do.
And... last year I forgot to hide the toys from our seven-year-old Kojak, before Christmas. This is why we got a note from his teacher a few weeks ago asking us to talk with him because he went to school telling his peers that Santa didn't exist and neither did his horses.
We could not figure out why he did that. I just prayed that none of the kids went home crying to their parents about Santa. So we doned our Huxtable hats and had a
chat with him. We didn't get far when he blurted out, "Mama! I saw Rex in your closet on Christmas Eve! Right beside the snowman wrapping paper!"
Dude shook his head.
So we have had these back-and-forth conversations with him recently. We didn't want him going Malcolm X on any other kids and try, by any means necessary, to convince them that Santa was not real.
We weren't quite sure how he was feeling about Santa in the last few days. Until we found a letter tonight:
We forget to put money under the kids' pillows when they lose teeth. We spell words in front of the kids only to have the kids figure the word out before we do.
And... last year I forgot to hide the toys from our seven-year-old Kojak, before Christmas. This is why we got a note from his teacher a few weeks ago asking us to talk with him because he went to school telling his peers that Santa didn't exist and neither did his horses.
We could not figure out why he did that. I just prayed that none of the kids went home crying to their parents about Santa. So we doned our Huxtable hats and had a
chat with him. We didn't get far when he blurted out, "Mama! I saw Rex in your closet on Christmas Eve! Right beside the snowman wrapping paper!"
Dude shook his head.
So we have had these back-and-forth conversations with him recently. We didn't want him going Malcolm X on any other kids and try, by any means necessary, to convince them that Santa was not real.
We weren't quite sure how he was feeling about Santa in the last few days. Until we found a letter tonight:
Saturday, December 18, 2010
Going Too Far!
Our son is so protective and territorial when it comes to me... his favorite Mommy! Of course his only one but "favorite" has a great ring to it. (Picture me with a smile, sunglasses and feet up as I reflect on this) Back to the blog.
He would do anything for me. Except... protect me from the Chick-fil-A cow. If you've followed the blogs you know the history of that character and Chuck-E-Cheese. Oh, and Mickey Mouse, and the vertically-challenged man from our church who dressed up like a cell phone during Fall Fest, complete with ashy knees. Our son finished his cotton candy under one of the tables that year. Basically he is fearful of anyone dressed in a costume. I try to convince him that "God doesn't give him the spirit of fear" but his consistent response is, "Well Mommy somebody gave it to me bad!"
Not only does he try to be protective but he is territorial.
We were relaxed, watching a movie when he said, "Daddy. I knew Mommy before you."
I grinned a bit but just passed it off. I mean Dude and I know better. No need to reply right?
Well...
Dude replied.
"Nope. I knew her first buddy."
Our son sat up. Looked at Dude then at me.
I closed my eyes and held my breath in anticipation for what the little seven-year-old was about to say.
"No. I knew her first Daddy," pointing at my stomach, "I was in that tummy!"
Dude peered at me. "Will you tell him?"
I pressed my lips together.
"First I was in her tummy then I grew (talking with his hands) and grew until I was ready to come outta there and see Mommy!"
He smiled and sat back as if he had won the round.
Dude sat up and came back with, "I helped get you here!"
He was confused. "Uh, Mommy how did Daddy help me get here?"
Again... I closed my eyes.
He would do anything for me. Except... protect me from the Chick-fil-A cow. If you've followed the blogs you know the history of that character and Chuck-E-Cheese. Oh, and Mickey Mouse, and the vertically-challenged man from our church who dressed up like a cell phone during Fall Fest, complete with ashy knees. Our son finished his cotton candy under one of the tables that year. Basically he is fearful of anyone dressed in a costume. I try to convince him that "God doesn't give him the spirit of fear" but his consistent response is, "Well Mommy somebody gave it to me bad!"
Not only does he try to be protective but he is territorial.
We were relaxed, watching a movie when he said, "Daddy. I knew Mommy before you."
I grinned a bit but just passed it off. I mean Dude and I know better. No need to reply right?
Well...
Dude replied.
"Nope. I knew her first buddy."
Our son sat up. Looked at Dude then at me.
I closed my eyes and held my breath in anticipation for what the little seven-year-old was about to say.
"No. I knew her first Daddy," pointing at my stomach, "I was in that tummy!"
Dude peered at me. "Will you tell him?"
I pressed my lips together.
"First I was in her tummy then I grew (talking with his hands) and grew until I was ready to come outta there and see Mommy!"
He smiled and sat back as if he had won the round.
Dude sat up and came back with, "I helped get you here!"
He was confused. "Uh, Mommy how did Daddy help me get here?"
Again... I closed my eyes.
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