Friday, December 31, 2010

This Moment



{this moment} A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. -- via SouleMama

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Christmas Baby Give-away

It's a slow day in our post-Christmas house, and I like it that way.  I've been stepping around new toys and packaging detritus all morning as I slowly move into my post-holiday let-down.  We don't do much with New Years and nothing really matches the big cultural Christmas push.  I'm not really a big holiday person, anyway, but I understand the significance for some people, and family has always been important to me.  For me, holidays are really about family. 

So I was stunned and saddened when I saw this story of a young woman giving up her baby to a fire department under the Safe Haven law in California.   I'm glad California has such a law if it prevents babies being dropped in dumpsters or other horrific places.  But really the story had me wondering, what drives a parent to give up a child, especially on Christmas. 

I think about my children and how I can't imagine my life without them.  I think about their first few days of life and how utterly dependent they were on us.  What compels a person to be willing to give up a child three days old?  I don't mean this as a condemnation.  It is a serious question.  I just can't imagine what would compel someone to do that.  Could it be financial hardship?  The psychological pain of not being able to provide for a child?  I live a fortunate life and don't have to contemplate those questions.  We don't live extravagantly, but we can always put food on the table. 

What kind of life has the mother condemned her child to?  Can the little girl overcome the challenges?  Will she learn of her past and wonder these same questions: what would compel a mother to give up a newborn?  What kind of psychological damage could this cause? What kind of damage will it cause the mother, who apparently has three children.  How does one make the judgment to say, I'm sorry #4 but I'm keeping the first three.  You must go.  I can't imagine a day would go by without me wondering what happened to my child.  Maybe the mother is hoping the child will have a better life that she can provide.  Maybe the mother, sleep-deprived and desperate made a rash decision.  I can't imagine the decision was an easy one. 

I guess it simply saddens me to think that someone would hold a newborn, feel its warmth, and the bond that only a mother can have for her child, and then give the baby up.  I hope that the baby and the mother find peace in a world in which such decision need to be made. 

Friday, December 17, 2010

This Moment



{this moment} A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. -- via SouleMama

Monday, December 13, 2010

I Am a Bad Dad

I just went out in the interminable cold of 9 degrees with a wind chill around minus artic, scraped 3 inches of ice off my car (no I'm not kidding -- 3 inches, under 5 of snow, some of which went down my jacket and into my shoes), and drove down roads veteran Ice Road Truckers wouldn't use and nearly ran out of gas to get to a doctor so she could tell me what I and the four others in the house already knew: I got strep.  I will spare you the details of phloem and c#*p in the back of my throat, the headaches, chills, sweats, etc.

I'm on Amoxicillin now. I should be better soon.  Tomorrow is a must-work day that I may miss.  They'll be fine without me; I realize that I'm not as important as I wish I were.

I chalk all this up to my post about enjoying the quiet.  And by the way, though the boys have been trying to be respectful, they just can't stay away all day when their dad is home.  I get that.  But do they have to pull the blankets off me as a game?  Yea, I know.  I deserve it.

One final note: recently, WonderMom got strep.  Yea, I didn't even know.  I couldn't tell, other than her being a bit more tired than usual (which comes with poor sleeping nights).  So here I sit whimpering on the couch about how I feel, and she took care of a family of four and barely missed a beat.  Actually, I'm pretty lucky in that regard, but right now, boy, I could use some health.

Friday, December 10, 2010

This Moment



{this moment} A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. -- via SouleMama

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Children and Strep and Quiet

I have a confession, and it isn't a nice one.  I admit that I found a bit of peace when my twins were in the depths of strep.  Let me also say that it was hard to watch as they whimpered or smoldered from fever.  The coughs, particularly in the middle of the night, I suspect hurt me emotionally almost as much as them physically.  It's the kind of cough that hurts the throat, but also seems to try to pull the lungs our through it.  And the occasional vomiting isn't easy either.  Sometimes the twins simply laid on the couch or floor, dozing in and out, only wanting to be snuggled or left alone.  And those are the moments in which I found peace. 

I hope I don't burn in hell for it, but despite my strong empathic response to their pain -- an empathy that never wains -- I enjoyed the peace of sitting on the couch between the twins and they snuggled under blankets, their eyes opening and closing like they were Disney animatronics.  I would read them books or keep them company.  It was quiet. 

Quiet. 

If you've been in a house with rambunctious young boys, you know quiet is unheard of (Sorry, I couldn't resist).  Sometimes ours are even loud in their sleep, banging on walls or snoring or talking almost as incessantly as they do when awake.  Sometimes they even talk to each other in their sleep.  And so not since they were little babies really had I spent this much quiet time with them while they were conscious.  It was nice stroking their hair off of their sweaty foreheads and tucking them in or getting them ice water.  There was no screaming or competition.  It was quiet. 

Yes, I do feel guilty for finding this silver lining to their being very ill, but I won't lie and say I didn't enjoy it.  Now, they're recovering and asleep as I type this.  The quiet of illness is being replaced by the quiet of healthy sleep.  There are no chest-tearing coughs or raspy breathing.  And I'm thankful for that.  But in a few days, when they are fully recovered and running through the house screaming about Igloo superheroes or who isn't playing what game right, a tiny part of me might long for those tender moments of quiet on the couch.

Friday, December 3, 2010

This Moment


{this moment} A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. If you're inspired to do the same, leave a link to your 'moment' in the comments for all to find and see. -- via SouleMama

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Encouraging Our Children #8



Failure and defeat will only stimulate special efforts when there remains the hope of eventual success.

The latest in my endeavors to look at ways to encourage children is one I get.  No one wants to do Sisyphean acts, and as an academic I have to admit I think I do them regularly.  Sometimes when I look around our house at all the small, sharp-edged toys littering the floor that I will inevitably step on and then pick up, I think I do them regularly at home, too. 

But back to encouraging our kids and this piece of advice, we only need to look at the work of Lev Vygotsky and his zone of proximal development.  Here is Vygotsky's key quote on it:
the distance between the actual developmental level as determined by independent problem solving and the level of potential development as determined through problem solving under adult guidance, or in collaboration with more capable peers.
In less philosophical terms, Vygotsky believes that the best learning takes place when learners are pushed just beyond their current abilities, but not so far that they cannot attain the goal.  Once a child is pushed beyond her abilities, an educator, parent, whomever should provide just enough guidance so the learner can complete the task.  So the work is challenging, but doable.  

Essentially, what I think Schafer is advocating with her eighth suggestion is to make sure when our kids do fail (which is different than making a mistake) or are defeated, that we make sure there is a hope of eventual success.  That hope will result in additional, or as Schafer calls them "special" efforts that inspire kids to succeed.  Ensuring success is far more attainable when we consider Vygotsky's zone and his suggestion that children be pushed into it, not beyond it.  It means that as parents, we need to provide the support so they can accomplish the goal.  It also means that we shouldn't push children into situations in which they cannot ultimately succeed.  We shouldn't have unrealistic expectations and transfer them onto our children, especially expectations born out of parental pride. 

So how do I do this with my boys?  First, I have an confession.  I am easily frustrated.  Sometimes that even means I quit.  I don't want my boys to have that same response that I do.  I want them to see a challenge where I see frustration.  I think it will ultimately make them more successful in life.  So I commend effort.  More specifically, though, when one of my boys needs or wants help, I try to do as little as possible while ensuring that they are capable of succeeding, eventually, if they try.  Sometimes it works.  Sometimes I just do it myself when the situation calls for it.  It isn't worth me being thirty minutes late for something or watching a complete tantrum, including a scream like a tornado siren because my child can't put on shoes with defective tongues by himself. Am I succeeding?  I guess we won't know until they're grown.  But I do see my boys work hard at things, occasionally failing, and working until they succeed. 

What do you do to help your kids work through failure or defeat, redoubling efforts so they can succeed? Do you have any great stories of you or your kids overcoming failure through extra effort?