Showing posts with label Simone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Simone. Show all posts

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Right-sizing Easter Traditions

Easter is just around the corner. It's supposed to be a time of rejoicing. However, with Easter only a week away, I am elbow deep in pointless checklists. What's on my to-do list this Easter, you ask? Here are just a few things I tend to fuss over:
    [✔]hair appointments
    [✔]matching outfits
    [✔]obnoxiously oversized baskets
    [✔]elaborate meal preparations
    [✔]family photo appointment
    [✔]hefty investments in greeting cards
Note that none of these items bear the slightest relevance to the purpose for the special day.

And so, I find myself in a new season. Learning. Breathing. Growing. Putting things back into perspective.

We're going to scale back our Resurrection Day celebration plans this year. We're going to redirect our energy towards the real reason for the season. We're going to bring our focus back into balance. We'll be right-sizing our traditions, and the first step in our overhaul plan is a simple recognition of one man who gave His life so that we all could have eternal life.

The girls will still decorate eggs and participate in a hunt or two. The Easter egg hunt is a great illustration reminding us of Christ's death, burial, and resurrection.

I'll let someone else take over this part of the story:


(On Good Friday, Jesus died. Hallelujah!)


And really for us, celebrating doesn't get more purposive than that.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Happy Valentine's Day, Mom! Wait, that isn't chocolate....

Well, it looks like "Simona Pooplooza" kicked off  2010 with a bang.  The event coincided with Valentine's Day this year.  While Teddy and I relaxed in bed a little later than usual and exchanged Valentine's Day gifts, Simone made a Valentine's Day deposit of her own in bed.  It looked like chocolate.  She had smeared the tell tale signs of the brown stuff everywhere.  Tiny, curious handprints covered her body, crib posts, and linens. Its aroma wafted through the air and invaded my nostrils.  Wait...., that isn't chocolate.  It was the $#!t... LITERALLY.  I'll spare you the pictures, but the cute, hand-picked crib bumper that once lined the safety rails?  Gone.  The once adorable, matching Abby Rose bedding?  Off to the incinerator.  Got any recommendations for a new toddler bed?

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Celebrate Halloween, Go to Hell

I'll admit. This post is long. But I threw in lots of pictures
in hopes that you'll read it!

Meet the Wicked Witch of the West:

Actually, it's just a card I created in preparation for
an October mommy-and-me craft with Sadia!


I love scrapbooking, and, by extension, I also enjoy creating cards. This is a 4x4 card, and it is really easy to make. Here is a list of materials used for the basic layout:

(1. dimensional Halloween stickers by K&Company)

(2. embossed stickers by K&Company)

(3. 12 X 12 focal pattern paper by Making Memories)

(4. 12 X 12 black scrapbook paper cut to 8 X 4 card base)

(and 3 essential scrapbook tools: paper cutter, adhesive 3D dots, and tape runner)

All of these materials can be found at your local Michaels Arts and Crafts store.

I plan to embark on this card-making project with Sadia as a way to bond with her. The goal is to cultivate a shared interest in card making through designing various Halloween-themed cards for her kindergarden class. Planning and prepping for this activity has really challenged me to take a position on a longstanding taboo in my family.

As my children get older, I'm having to make decisions that I didn't have to make before. The deliberation that I'm currently sitting on the fence about is: to Halloween or not to Halloween.

As a Christian, there always seemed to be a clear winner in this debate. Of course my verdict had been reached BC (that is, before kids). Actually, my choice was forged into the fiber of my faith from decades of entrenched Christian rhetoric. Now, admittedly, the "winning" argument is not so clear-cut, and I find myself deciding whether or not I should observe Halloween. Frankly, I'm undecided on the issue. What about you? Are you letting your kids celebrate Halloween?

Ellie Lofarao, who authors a blog called, Kiyria: A Women Chosen in Christ; Called to Influence affirms that in Christian cirlces, the answer to this question isn't so black and white. As a Christian, she always felt that her decision to avoid the holiday was just the right thing to do... that is of course until a turning point, when confronted by her children with an all too familiar rationale. She presents their case:

"Please let us go trick-or-treating next year. We always play dress up and we have so many hats and costumes and wigs, so you don't have to buy any and we only want to get some candy and have fun with our friends! We know Satan is bad and we love Jesus, and I'm sure he'd walk around with us and get candy if he was here. "

Ellie's post pin points the true nature of this argument for Christian parents. What about the kids? They'll miss out!

As parents, should we be allowing anything--even a rational argument from our innocent little ones-- deter us away from the convictions of our hearts?

She goes on to grapple with the fact that her children's assertions began to blur the boundaries of her own resolve. For the remainder of her post, she probes the issue further and concludes with this final notion:

"..there are no evil spirits in our pumpkins, nor do they roam in my neighbor's black cat. As for witches and black magic, the Bible is clear. All Hallows Eve ought to be a social, wholesome, and yes, even joyful time. For our family, it is."

When I read her closing thoughts, part of me wanted to applaud her for stepping out of the rigid box of legalism we Christians sometimes put ourselves into. However, another part of me grew troubled. As a believer, I maintain that there are absolutes in life, but I wondered whether this issue was as black and white as I had originally thought.

Angelo Stagnero, a Christian blogger who writes for the U.S Catholic blog approaches the matter quite pragmatically. He places the evolution of Halloween into a historic context. He believes adamantly that Christians should embrace the day. He writes:

"Halloween is steeped in Catholic theology and piety, and besides, it's just so much damn fun. We couldn't have arranged a more perfect synthesis of devotion and festivity had we tried. When you get to the core of what the holiday is, you find an overwhelmingly Catholic Christian holiday. It should be recognized and celebrated as such-warts, spider webs, and all.

On the Christian calendar November 1 is All Saints Day, or "All Hallows' Day." The word "Halloween" is simply the abbreviated form of "All Hallows' Eve," the vigil celebration in anticipation of the feast day."

He argues that Halloween should not be cloaked in cult folklore, but rather it should be viewed from the historical perspective from which it sprang. For Angelo the answer is clear. He frames his case for Halloween in no uncertain terms:

"Halloween is a great time to get your scare on. If not now, when? Let's indulge in the sticky, the creepy, and in things that go bump in the night on Halloween. This is our night to bump back. You can dress as a devil as long as you don't succumb to the diabolical. If you dress as a demon, you are no more worshiping a demon than you are worshiping an angel if you dressed as your favorite cherub."

I am still a bit undecided on the whole issue, but as a Christian, I think I'll throw myself into the mystery of my faith at this critical juncture.

So for now, we will continue to observe our own hodge-podge-of-a-tradition:

Will we buy costumes? Yes

Will we buy Halloween candy? Yes

Will my kids collect and eat candy? Yes

Basically, we will dress our girls in some kind of Halloween neutral costume, and head to the church, where the Children's Ministry organizes a "Harvest Carnival". While my children will dress in costume, we will avoid the traditional stuff, and focus instead on costumes that center around careers and things of that nature.

What about you? Will your kids be getting their creep on?

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Stuff Mommies Do: Volume 7



I usually sing Simone a song right after her bath during her bedtime routine. One oldy-but-goody that she doesn't seem to mind singing over and over again is the Itsy Bitsy Spider song. Well, tonight after her bath, she decided she wanted no part of my version of the song. Instead, she sang her own rendition of the popular nursery rhyme. Here is her mashup:

The itsy bitsy diaper
crawled up the water spout
down came the rain and
washed the diaper out
out came the sun and
dried up all the rain and
the itsy bitsy diaper
crawled up the spout again.

Certainly, her "mondegreens" was completely incidental, but may have been warranted. The word diaper does sort-of rhyme with spider, and I did ask her to bring me a diaper just before we sang the song. But, I am sure you can see how her version of the song may have had an immediate relevance at the time.

Stuff Mommies Do Volume 7:
Use context clues to deduce when to change the baby's diaper.

Friday, August 21, 2009

Stuff Mommies Do: Volume 1

Accidentally leave ornery children in the naughty corner 
long enough for comatosity to set in...

Previous Post: Simone's First Day of Pre-School
Next Post: Stuff Mommies Do: Volume 2

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Simone's First Day of Pre-School

Simone looking smart in her First-Day-of-Pre-School outfit.


*DISCLAIMER:  If the sight of small children crying rips your heart out, 
then you should probably stop watching the clip at the 3:15 mark.


Previous Post: My Baby Starts Kindergarten!
Next Post: Stuff Mommies Do: Volume 1

Friday, July 31, 2009

My Black Belt Ranking System


A bit unorthodox, I know, but if you're playing along at home here's the gist...

A.  Sandan or third degree black belt: current ranking
B.  Shodan or first degree black belt: ranking before I had Sadia 
C.  Nidan or second degree black belt: ranking before I had Simone 
D.  Yondan or fourth degree black belt: ranking I wish to achieve in the next year

Ironically, little discipline is required to get a black belt these days and anyone that's ovulating is guaranteed to matriculate through the levels fairly quickly.  I am currently accepting applications at my McDojo .  Incidentally, you'll also receive a small box housing a kimono and a cute plastic primary-colored toy with your registration.


Previous Post: Whale Watching Wednesday    

Thursday, July 30, 2009

Whale Watching Wednesday

Okay, that's enough alliteration for one day! Teddy pleasantly surprised the family by planning a whale-watching day trip! Our three hour excursion left port from Shoreline Village in Long Beach (insert corny Gilligan's Island theme song here), on Wednesday at 3:30 pm. The weather was gorgeous and I couldn't have asked for a more picturesque backdrop for our family adventure on the high seas. 

The journey began with a rocky start, but I won't blog about the events that almost led to our missing the trip entirely, or the ticket fiasco at the wharf, or Sadia's embarrassing Public Restroom Announcement, or the adorable young couple who delayed our trip, or the meltdowns that nearly ruined our experience, or the gas shortage that could have ended with the family hoofin' it to the nearest gas station. No, I'll save that for another post, so suffice it to say that despite all minor set-backs, Teddy did a wonderful job at pulling it all together!



Here is a photo of the family at the end of the tour as we're getting ready to dock. I am making a more conscientious effort to get family pictures on our trips, because what generally ends up happening is either Teddy or I end up taking all of the pictures and the result is usually this:


Lot's of great pictures of Teddy and Sadia or....


...of me and Simone or....


...of just Simone or....


...of just Sadia, and in many cases...


....of Sadia and the new friends she's made on our trip.

Ironically, we didn't manage to get any really great pictures of whales. I have this huge inferiority complex when it comes to taking pictures on these kinds of nature trips. I so want to get a great shot that captures our whole experience.



However, as you can see I failed miserably. If you can't tell (honestly I wouldn't blame you if you can't) this would be a picture of a blue whale's blow hole...



... and this would be a picture of a blue whale's dorsal fin. I was going to label these pictures for you, but I think that only would have belabored my point. These are BAD pictures.

While there were many sightings of whales on our trip, I was very disappointed not having gotten any good shots of whales. You know the kind of picture I'm talking about, something dramatic like a great blue leaping out of the water doing a gynormous back splash and dousing the boat with salt water (something like what you might find at a theme park). I would have even settled for a sort-of okay shot of a whale ushering up gallons of water onto the bow of the boat with its tail.

At one point I even secretly anticipated this type of manufactured experience with each whale that surfaced. I wasn't the only one with visions of state-of-the-art choreography by these magnificent mammals. There was a collective buzz in the air; a corporate sense of readiness shared by all of the passengers on the boat for a truly breathtaking experience also fueling the frenzie. The suspense was so thick you could cut it with a filet knife. I think at one point I could actual hear the soundtrack for Shamu's "Believe" promo playing in my head.

A bit looney, I know..,but I blame National Geographics with award winning shots like this one:


and Sea World for spectacular killer whale promo's like this one:


for my unrealistic expectations and diminished capacity for taking a half-way decent photo of a blue whale on our trip.



Previous Post: Best Wedding Invitation of ALL Time
Next Post: My Black Belt Ranking System

Monday, July 13, 2009

Pouring Part 1: Conjuring Newfangled Things!


A few weeks ago, I blogged about our experience with inadequate childcare, which prompted a summer of my pouring into the girls. You can read more about that here. One aspect of the pouring involves reigniting their playful nature. So, I thought what better way to add some levity, than to indulge them in silly childhood clapping games! Now, this little song is a bit different from the way I remember singing it when I was their age, but I think we accomplished our goal none-the-less.

Remember those hand games we used to play as kids? You and your girlfriends or-- if you were as fortunate as I was-- your sisters would sing a song accompanied by rhythmic clapping and hand gestures.  For example, here the girls are singing a novel chant that goes:  Down, down, baby;  I can do karate. Down, down, baby; I can call my mommy.  Down, down, baby; I can eat salami.  Oops!  I'm sorry.  I'm not sorry.  Peek-a-peek-a-boo!  Peek-a-peek-a-boo!

These silly hand games have a way of making them revisit their silliness in ways that nothing else can.  They can't keep from giggling when playing these games.  It doesn't matter that the songs they chant don't make any sense or that they butcher the rhythm.  There are no age or ethnic pre-requisites. In this space of innocence all that matters is that everyone is laughing and having fun! I think everybody should do this every once in a while with their kids.

So, take a walk down memory lane with your kids today. Sing some nonsensical song from childhood. Laugh! Clap! Recite away, as loud as you can or as fast as your hands can slap! And when you realize that you've just chanted a bunch of stuff that makes absolutely no sense at all, sing some more nonsense! Pat your thighs, touch the ground, and conjure some other newfangled thing!


Previous Post: Where God Left His Shoes
Next Post: Argiope-aurantiahobia

Tuesday, July 07, 2009

Children Gone Fishing....

The Chinese proverb goes:  Give a man a fish and you will feed him for a day. Teach him how to fish and you will feed him for a lifetime.  Well, a small altercation between the girls this afternoon seemed to imply that I could add a parental twist to update this old expression-- saying something like: Give your children fish and you will feed them for a day.  Give them time to fish and you will give them the ability to sustain long-term relationships exercised in love through reconciling sibling fish, while simultaneously saving mommy fish's energy by ensuring that the fish habitat remains ordered.  Or something like that.  I won't butcher the saying any further, but my experience this afternoon amounted to a lesson in fishing.

There was lots of housework waiting for me after a busy 4th of July weekend.  Laundry was first on my list of priorities.  So, I purposed to plop the girls in front of the TV ,to nourish them with a "Curious George" DVD, then --and with great determination-- to vanish up the stairs, and tackle the mountain of laundry flowing over the sides of the dirty clothes hamper.  About 15 minutes into my chore, I overheard a ruckus brewing between the girls downstairs.  

And then a few seconds later, a "MOM..., MOOOOOOOOOOOM????!!!" bounced off the walls of our narrow stairway.  Simone's cries for intervention grew louder and louder.  My first instinct was to plunge down the stairs to investigate the matter.  However, in that moment I experienced a hesitation kindled by what I can only describe as the Holy Spirit guiding me.  My repose could be measured by the hunched-over position of my spine as I eavesdropping on their candid argument. 

Normally, in a situation like this one I want to race down the stairs in an effort to avoid a more serious altercation, which is generally born out of these types of tiffs between the girls.  An overwhelming burst of adrenaline fuels the need to uphold a sense of order in the house. Certainly, ripples of discord is a true enemy to order in our small pond.  For this reason, I like to exercise a routine of rules reinforcement, followed by an allocation of consequences, and then wrap it all up with lots of love.  Yet in spite of this, I remained still.., and at the top of the stairs..,  and poised to listen.   

Ironically, amidst the disharmony there I found myself perched and a calm fell over me. A few minutes later there was an exchange of words between the girls, and then quietness. The arguing stopped, and almost immediately I heard God's voice clearly speaking to me.  His words were punctuated by a peace that overcame the whole house and it was literally fish food for my soul.  

He said, sometimes what's needed is not exacting judicial scrutiny, but rather an opportunity for the girls to work out their own differences.  In other words, I don't always have to be the instrument for conflict resolution.  It didn't matter who instigated the fight or whether rules were enforced (as is the status quo).  Rather what was most important was that they had an opportunity to work out their disagreement without my intervention. This idea seems so rudimentary as I journal about it now, but weighing it amidst the girls' dispute was a tough worm to swallow.

Reflecting over the matter, I can't say for sure what the girls discussed in the brief exchange that preceded the quiet, but of this I am certain:  Whatever transpired between them must of required a lot of love expressed through forgiveness, which is a learned quality.  Sadly, I don't often allow the girls either space or opportunity to practice what they've learned while working out their own differences.  I get so caught up in giving them fish, that I never afford them the opportunity to practice fishing by themselves.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

May Their Cups Overflow

I know that I have been neglecting my blog over the last month, but it is not for lack of desire or  material. Even though I am on vacation from teaching, I feel like I just traded in one full-time job for another more important one-- bonding with the girls.

Two weeks ago marked the end of a long struggle with childcare. Being a working mom, my children are really vulnerable when it comes to finding a provider who really cares. Unfortunately, the last few months have been a lesson in navigating the storms of inadequate daycare (to say the least). Fortunately, the storm is over now and our children will be moving on to something more nurturing.  

It seems unreal, but Sadia will be starting Kindergarten in the fall. We've experienced a barrage of documentation, updating records, and testing for her placement. I am both anxious and excited for my soon-to-be Kindergartener. On the one hand, Sadia has overcome so many hurdles from her previous experience in daycare. She has endured prejudice, mistreatment and only God knows what else, but she has become a stronger and more resilient kid as a result. I have high hopes for what her school years will bring: perhaps a fresh start with more skilled and loving people who genuinely care for her and embrace her differences. On the other hand, there is still a part of me that worries. I realize that I cannot raise my children in a bubble, but what I can do is raise them to love in the face of hatred. I want them to learn to champion injustice with audacity and emerge from it unscathed. Enrolling in a new school will be an opportunity for elasticity.

Simone too has seen her fair share of set-backs. Last month she was diagnosed with Eustachian Tube Disfunction, a condition in the ears which causes her to hear as though she is underwater. When I learned of her diagnosis, my heart sunk. As a parent, it is amazing just how much of my children's regular body functions I take for granted. Thankfully, the complication with her ears will correct itself as she matures, but in the meantime in between time, she will struggle. Since her diagnosis, we've been back and forth from this specialist to that, from audiologist to speech therapist trying to equip Simone with the skills to weather this storm. With each appointment comes probes and prods from this instrument and that, and she is growing increasingly more an more agitated. Clearly, she too is being dealt her own measure of toughness.

Teddy and I are still taking it all in. Trying to process it all has proven to be quite the undertaking. Although, I am sure of one thing.  Never have I experienced anything more challenging than being responsible for these two precious little souls that God has gifted to us. And so, for me and my three, this summer will be a time to pour. When Sadia reacts to bias with bitterness, I will pour into her patience and tenderness. When Simone grows agitated with her own shortcomings, I will pour into her tolerance and acceptance. I will pour into them until I cannot pour anymore and when my cup becomes empty, I will seek the Lord's bounty and continue poised to pour some more.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Remembering Sadia's First Easter

This Easter came and went so quickly. Here is a candid shot of Sadia and Simone just before we whisked them away to church on Sunday morning.



While editing Easter photos this year, I came across a first. This video is the first in a long list of videographies that I've created over the course of the last 3 years. This one captures Sadia's first Easter:



We were in the neighborhood park that day taking Easter photos.

Sadia and I frequented this park on my summers off. It is only a few blocks from the apartment complex we lived in when Teddy and I first got married. Although it was a transitional period for us, the environment wasn't what you would call nurturing. Beer cans and graffiti were the most notable litter items. Curbsides were always plastered with parked cars, no matter the time of day. Dense apartment structures broke up the skyline. Essentially, it was a concrete jungle.

As if the ambiance could be worsened by yet another detail, I'm fairly certain that our upstairs neighbor was a drug dealer. Of this I am certain, because the walls in our apartment were so paper thin that I could hear the details of just about every meth transaction that took place upstairs. One day, the dealer's water pipes burst sending rusty water surging through the soffit cavities leaking through the ceiling. It took the owners so long to extract the moisture from the crawl space, that mold began to settle. I despised my humble beginnings.

One afternoon after church, while searching for a spot to park among the sea of circa 1980s generously used vehicles, Teddy encountered a young man and woman who were engaged in a heated argument. The guy was a thug, with prison tattoos as neck ornaments. He quickly became abusive with the woman, who was presumably his girl friend. At some point, Teddy felt compelled to step in to protect the woman's safety. As he approached, the guy stuck his hand in his jacket pocket, and gestured vehemently, as one might if he were concealing a weapon. The sum total of our living nightmare in that neighborhood converged in that moment, and thus began our search to find more adequate housing.

There were no redeeming qualities about that place. It had obviously lost its charm decades ago. So, it is with a heavy heart that I reflect on these memories. Strangely though, the juxtaposition of Sadia's tender years against a backdrop of that harsh environment makes the whole experience more unique.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

My Clark Kent?

Now all she needs is a telephone booth, leotard, tights, and a cape.

My sister took the girls to see Monsters vs. Aliens, the latest computer animated movie from Dreamworks, on Saturday. Since then, Simone walks around the house wearing her fenced 3-D glasses like she's waiting for the moment when objects will begin to lung into her lap with startling effect. Now, if I can just get her to stop talking to the Jell-O mold!

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Robert's 5th Birthday Party

Sadia and Simone attended Robert's 5th birthday party today. It was a themed party, and I must say that my friends' creativity with birthday party planning never disappoints. For instance, I would have never in a million light years thought to put electrical tape and water logs together to create "lightsabers".

My thoughts after today's droid attack is a mixed bag. On the one hand it's fun to watch our kids growing up together, but on the other hand I am regretting my diligence at pushing my children to crawl, walk, and talk. They really are growing up so quickly, and it seems like the days when Cheerios and velcroed pink bows have faded into a galaxy far, far, away...

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Tagged

I've been tagged by friend and fellow blogger, Jen, but you might be more familiar with her blogger pen name, "Brazenlilly".  

The first time that I met Jen was the fall of freshman year, in Steve Richardson's Life of Christ class at PCC.  I had gotten this crazy idea that putting caricature print band aids across the toe of my All Stars, would make me a trendsetter in the relatively blah world of Christian higher education.  I thought the shoes punctuated my personality.   I'm sure that Jen was just being her super-nice and exuberant self, when she commented that my fashion statement was "cute". In many ways that moment in my broken life, was like a much needed flare on a painfully boring, white canvas.

Our brief exchange, though trite, stood out to me.  It was an open door for a kid who felt out of place at PCC.  Being one of three black students at a predominately white university was very intimidating.  I wanted to fit in, but --given my unfortunate home life--I really felt emotionally devoid, and unable to connect with people.  I wasn't from the typical Christian home, thriving in the typical suburban community where nurturing stay-at-home moms reared replete children for college life.  I wasn't in college for the pursuit of a dream.  Rather I was there strictly for the utilitarian purpose of having a roof over my head and food to eat.  My focus was on survival.  However, Jen's kind gesture was greatly appreciated, and ironically brought a little color to my otherwise bleek world.  

So, I'm supposed to post the fourth picture in the fourth folder on my computer.  Here it is:



Simone was ten months old, and wearing eighteen month clothes at the time this photo was taken. Strangers and friends alike would always comment on her chubby cheeks. I remember feeling extremely aware that she hadn't begun to walk yet, mostly because her older sister starting taking her first steps at that age.

I stalk blogs often, but from time to time I have been known to check out Brad's blog, which coincidentally I came across through Jen's blog.

I'm not sure who to tag that hasn't already been tagged, so I'll take a gamble with Sarah T., Jen W. and Kristi.

Sunday, February 08, 2009

Fun with the Lyons


Today we joined the Lyons' crew in celebrating Tanner's 2nd birthday. I was excited to meet Tanner for the first time, and introduce him to Sadia and Simone. I was also pleasantly surprised by all of the familiar faces, among whom were Kristi, Derek, JJ, Jennifer, and Brian.

The whole experience really left an impression on Sadia. When I tucked her in for bed, she couldn't stop talking about Tanner's party. Here is Sadia on her experience.

Sunday, February 01, 2009

This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object...

Whenever buttermilk-ranch dip accompanies appetizers and/or hors d'oeuvres trays at the table...the dip becomes instant clown make-up for Simone.
Notice the lone celery stalk on the table near her right arm.  The dressing was meant to enhance healthy snack choices.  She nibbled on the celery briefly, but soon decided that the topping was a tastier treat. At which point, she bypassed the celery, and went straight for the sauce.
("Wait 'til they get a load of me!")
If you look closely, you can almost make out a Joker-like grin on her face, accentuated by the the dressing.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Endearing or Convoluted?

"A mother is only as happy as her saddest child."
-A line from the movie "Loving Leah".


When I first heard this quote, instantly I was overcome by an estrogen overdose. I wanted to burst into tears, run upstairs, jar my girls from sleep, and smother them in warm embraces. The sentiment seems timeless and endearing, because from the moment they were born, my whole life has been committed to ensuring their happiness. However, after a little sleep and some sober thinking, it occurred to me that a relationship characterized by such interconnectedness is doomed from the onset.

Sure, the truth embodied in this view does not seem like such an imposition when suppressed by a weighty maternal overtone. What mother wouldn't find some comfort in easing a child's anguish. Yet, the whole idea of my joy so closely tied into my child's well being seems charming only when nursing a sick toddler. I do feel fulfilled when I can meet a need that they can't meet for themselves.

However, at some point children grow older; life happens to them. What happens when my influence over their lives begins to shrink considerably? At what point does this pressing practice of wanting to fix a hurt child turn into a tangled web of co-dependence?

Thursday, December 04, 2008

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

(Unofficial) Baby Sign Language

Okay, so Simone isn't a verbal processor like Sadia, her partner in crime. However, she is constantly using hand signals to communicate. While sign language is not my preferred method of communication, Simone does manage to get her point across. Essentially, more parents should recognize the value of Sign Language as a corner stone for speech development. Of late, Simone has mastered a few go-to signs that I would like to emphasize.

Take the matter that occured just this afternoon during the commute home form preschool/ work for instance: Sadia kept moving her face across the invisible plane which separates Simone's car seat from Sadia's booster, bringing Sadia's face within inches of Simone's. Now clearly, this was a breach of Simone's personal space. At one point I think I even heard the cartoonish bonk sound of head's knocking together as Sadia violated Simone's no fly zone, resulting in a head-on collision (literally) with Simone's forehead. Obviously, this maneuver was a risky one, as Sadia had received no clearance to enter Simone's air space. You could see how a basic head nod from Simone, indicating her disapproval, simply would not have sufficed. No. A more sophisticated cue was in order.

Enter Unofficial Baby Sign Numero Uno, also known as the open-handed slap across the face:
    Hold up dominant hand with palm facing out as if to initiate a high-five. With some force, extend the palm in the direction of the purveyor's face. Trace an invisible path across the cheek in one motion, making contact with the cheek, and follow through. Finish by snapping the palm back to the high-five position.
Contrary to popular belief physical contact is not characteristic of all Baby Signs. Though forceful, other signs often require no physical contact whatsoever.

Consider the incident which occurred during this evening's meal as an example: After suckling the last drop of milk from her bottle, Simone sought an immediate way to tell me that she was finished. Apparently, her desperate slurping of air did not solicit the response that she was looking for. A more direct approach for communicating the completion of her meal was needed.

Enter Unofficial Baby Sign Numero dos, also known as the bottle-put:*
    Rest the bottle close to the neck using the throwing (or dominant) hand. Thrust the throwing arm straight from the neck, keeping it tight to the neck while throwing, and push the bottle off of the fingertips. This motion should result in the bottle landing in a desired position on the floor, which will inevitably require that Mommy bend over to pick said bottle up off of the ground.
So, remember when your toddler uses Sign Language, it provides her with an amazing tool to establish fundamental building blocks for early communication. Frustration and tantrums are lessened, because your toddler can immediately communicate her demands until she can communicate verbally.**

*The bottle-put is a decisive gesture involving "putting" an object (usually unwanted) as far out of Mommy's reach as possible. It is common to use the term "bottle-put" in reference to both the bottle itself and the throwing motion.

**One reported draw-back resulting from (Unofficial) Baby Sign Language is that some parents reported a boost in sibling tantrums, as well as an increase in doctor visits for back related problems.

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