Fighting my Fears

I always thought of myself as being one of those parents who allowed their kids to explore the world with minimal supervision.

Helicopter parent, I am not. I am kind of surprise that the school has not called the cops on me considering how many bruises my kid has on her sometimes – there are times when my kid's love of climbing exceeds her ability to climb that something, and yes I let her fall. BUT, I do make sure that she will not get really hurt, i.e. break anything.

I always believed that giving my child a sense of freedom and the ability to make her own decisions (within limits), and thus the opportunity of making and learning from her own mistakes is important. She has so far mastered the making mistakes, but is a little slower on the learning from it part.

And, I always thought that I was pretty good at controlling my fears and not letting the possibility of something going horribly wrong to affect my decisions.

Well, now all that is about to be thrown out the window... the nearest bus window... you see, my child is about to go on her first school trip; on a school bus; without me. Yes, she is going in a vehicle, with someone else watching her (and a whole bunch of other four and five year olds), and the vehicle does not have a five-point-harnesses system, or some other form of restraining device built in.

I know logically that the chances of something going wrong is very slim. And, there are other adults keeping an eye on her. BUT the other adults are not me.

I am currently trying very hard to ignore all those horrible scenarios that just keep popping into my head (we are talking everything from bus accidents, to the kids being taken hostage, to my little girl getting lost during the trip). So now, I am fighting my urge to just keep her at home with me, and maybe covering her up in bubble wrap and locking her in her room.

The thing is, I am not even sure where this fear and sense of dread is coming from. Until now, I have never been worried about leaving her somewhere. I was never one of those parents who got teary eyed at school/camp drop offs. I was the one who quickly waved and then ran to enjoy my couple of hours of freedom.

Maybe I am afraid this time because I am being forced to acknowledge that she is no longer a baby. This time she is going somewhere without me.

So, I hope my nerves will hold up, as I keep telling myself that everything will be fine, and it will be great. She will have a wonderful time.

And, I will keep in mind that at least I will not be trapped in a metal box with a bunch of excited four and five year olds.

What do you do when you feel scared, but know logically that there is nothing to be afraid of?

picture courtesy of Sam LeVan

Kids and talent and parental obsession

Ever since I was little, I wanted to be really good at something. Not that I suck at everything now, but I find that I do not really excel at anything either. I always felt that if I had found my talent or passion, it would had made my life a bit easier, at least made finding a career that I can stick with easier.

So now, I find myself overcompensating with my daughter. I know you are not suppose to re-live your own life via your children, but it is hard to resist that temptation. No one wants their kids to live through their mistakes; and everyone wants their own children's dreams to come true.

I can now easily see how people end up with musical instruments that no one plays in every room, loads of half finished painted canvases, smelly old sports equipment in a pile somewhere in the basement, and incomplete science experiments growing in the fridge. We already started our musical instrument collection with a lovely pink guitar that has not been touched since the day it was opened at Christmas, and a small violin that is sitting on a dining room chair at this very moment.

I am sure there is a fine line between allowing your child to explore their potential talents, and dragging your child kicking and screaming down a certain path, or even going down the slippery slope that will lead to remortgaging the house to afford skating lessons. Wish someone will tell me where that line is.

Anyway, my daughter's newest obsession is photography. We let her use one of our old digital cameras to take pictures of anything she finds interesting. I think some of her pictures turned out really good.

So as a proud mama bear, here is a small gallery of my daughter's pictures:

Now if you will excuse me, I have to go out and buy her a new camera.

Does your child have a talent? What do you do to encourage it without going overboard?

All pictures are the property of my little monkey

Different solutions to the same problem

Sometimes I am really, really proud of my daughter, other times not so much... but for the most part, I am proud. And sometimes, I am surprised at how much more mature she is about responding to certain situations than I am.

This is one of them...

My daughter was not looking as happy as she usually does when I picked her up from school one day. She told me a little kid in her class tried to hit her. After giving her a hug and establishing that hitting is wrong, the next thing I did was to see whether this was done intentionally (even accidental physical contact is a big no to my daughter).

Okay, I feel bad that the first thought in my head was to doubt her interpretation of the event. I realize little kids are sometimes clumsy, and to be honest, my little one is not always aware of her environment, and so may have merely gotten in the way of a moving child.

Anyway, the incident was not accidental, and the kid did not actually hit her; just tried. I was upset, and told her what the kid (though the word brat and other more colourful adjectives were running through my mind at that point) did was wrong, and if it happens again, just tell him NO, you do not like that, in a big voice, and then go tell a teacher.

A couple of days later, I noticed that the little kid was once again bothering her in the playground. I was about to step in to physically remove the child, when I heard a little big voice yelling NO! I do not like that! And there she was standing up tall, and most importantly standing up for herself, and the kid walked away.

Well all was good for a couple of weeks after that, until I picked her up from school one day and saw her sad little face again...

Apparently, not only did the same kid hit her again, this time he spat in her face. Okay, I admit that my child can be a little annoying and patronizing at times, but no matter what she did, NO ONE should be spat on in the face. I think the kid was lucky that I did not find him at that moment.

After calming down, and talking to her, which involved lots of hugs and kisses, I contacted her teacher to let her know what is going on, and then started to think of a solution to this big problem.

This was my solution: if this kid tries to do this again, you have my permission to deck the kid and maybe kick them in the shins or other places that hurt. Or better yet, I will deal with the kid myself. I know this is wrong, so I did not really say this to her, but I was thinking it.

This was her solution(s): avoid the kid. And, make friends with the kid.

Okay, her solution is better than mine, and she came up with it all by herself!

Epilogue

Things seem to be better between my child and the kid. Though there is still the occasional incident, she seems to be handling it okay, with the help of her other friends. But beware kid, if my daughter's solution does not work, we are going with my plan.

The inner tiger escapes

I think I just had my first tiger mom moment, at least the first that I am consciously aware of.

So there I was, sitting with my child, at her little homework table, making her copy a simple pattern that I drew on a piece of paper. And, at some point, I told her that she was not to leave this spot until she got the pattern right. I think we sat there anywhere from 30 min to an hour.

This was definitely one of my not-so-proud parenting moments. I forgot to mention this happened in the evening, and I knew she was tired (we were all tired), and still I could not help but to push.

I just did not know what else to do.

My daughter is a pretty smart little girl, and can pick up a lot of things pretty easily; when she wants to. My husband and I often joke that she can probably start doing calculus now if she puts her mind to it. It is the 'when she wants to' that is becoming the problem. If she is not in the mood to do something, and it is not coming easily to her, she will just give up. I do not want her to go through life and just give up on every obstacle. I explained to her that not everything is easy, and sometimes it takes many tries to get really good at something. But, there she was, at her desk, half-assing the picture and telling me that she could not do it. It was not like I was asking her to recreate the Sistine Chapel, it was two little parallel lines.

So I pushed and pushed and said no to little mistakes. I am proud that there was no yelling the entire time; just lots of 'no, please try again'. Okay, I am very ashamed of the threats though – the there would be no time for a bath if you take any longer to do this (the child does not like to be dirty) and the if you do not at least try, what is the point of you going to school, maybe you should just stay home and be a blob (she also really likes school).

It broke my heart when the tears started to come, but I decided that this time, I will show her that mom will not give up on her, and she will not give up either. She does not understands right now, but I think the worst thing I can do is to give up – even if all I want to do is to throw my hands up and go, you win, mommy gives up.

Yes, I think maybe we did go a little overboard over two little lines this time (I am also a big believer in picking your battles, maybe this time I picked the wrong one), but I just really wanted to make a point.

And yes, in the end, she drew the two little lines. It was not perfect, but it was close, which was all I was hoping for. The goal was for her to look, think, and most importantly try.

I really hope that I do not do this again (I doubt it though), and maybe I can find a better way to approach this next time (I would love to hear suggestions).

For now, the tiger is once again caged. But if it is needed, I still have the key.

photo courtesy of: MeiTeng

Barbie dolls and Tattoos

I honestly do not know what is the big deal about the new, 'controversial,' Barbie doll in the market right now?

The Tokidoki Barbie, with her pink hair, leopard pattern leggins, short skirt, silver stilettos, and TATTOOS, is causing quite a stir. Yep, this Barbie got herself inked.

I really have no problems with tattoos (most of the time, I have much bigger

issues with how Barbie is dressed, but that is another issue completely), especially since I have three myself. And, because I am inked, I feel that I would be a hypocrite to ban my daughter from someday, way off in the future, to get a tattoo of her own. Yep, I said it; I am not against my daughter getting a tattoo someday (and hopefully she will never read this entry).

HOWEVER, I am against stupid thoughtless tattoos.

I believe tattoos are highly personal, should tell a story, and have a deep meaning for the person. My last tattoo, for example, was to commemorate my daughter's birth (no, I did not get it right after she was born; I waited). I knew I wanted something that will always remind me of my little baby, so with the help of my sister's tattoo artist friend, we designed a tattoo together. Okay, she designed, I said yes or no...

I have absolutely no regrets about getting my tattoo(s), because none of them were spur of the moment things (my second one was designed by my sister), and I did not get them because I thought it was pretty, or thought it would be 'cool' to do. Each tattoo says something about my life.

So, I hope when the time comes, my daughter will also understand this. Tattoos are very permanent. There is nothing wrong with them, but you should think long and hard about what you want on your body, where you want it, and most importantly why.

And yes, I am also aware that there are a lot of studies out there that say people still view people with body art negatively – less intelligent and more sexually promiscuous. I try not to judge people based just on appearances, but I understand there is a time and place for displaying yourself. I probably would not want to send my child to a teacher who shows off a full tattoo sleeve, but I would be equally offended if she had a teacher who insist on wearing tight, low cut tops (my child teacher does neither). That is just inappropriate. So, I think perception is about more than tattoos and piercing, it is how you present yourself in a situation.

And as for the less intelligent thing, I think there are lots of smart people with tattoo. Carl Zimmer just finished a book called Science Ink: Tattoos of the Science Obsessed – it is a collection of science tattoos, and some of these are on people with PhD's about things that I cannot even pronounced. (I come from a science, and realize some of these people spend days in the field with no shower, so I guess physical appearances are not always top priority when it comes to the science community. I also worked in the arts, where it would be strange to not have a tattoo)

Now, I have one thing to say to the parents that buy a $50, collector addition Barbie doll for their kids to play with... Would you like to adopt me? I am pretty clean, and I am toilet trained.

Quality vs Quantity

The other day my daughter asked me to play with her. I then told her not right now, mommy is tired, and besides mommy has been with you all day... and then I settled her down for a little craft project that she can do herself.

Later that night, it occurred to me that I have not sat down and just played with her in a while. I can't remember the last time we had a tea party, or went pretend shopping in the basement. It hit me that though I spend a lot of time with her, and I mean A LOT - we go to the park, to the beach, to the museum, to the farm, and sometimes we read, do crafts and play board games - we rarely just sit and play.

I think it is my need to always feel productive, or that the activity we choose should somehow lead to bettering oneself that blinds me to the idea of just playing for fun.

So here is a promise. The next time she wants to throw me a tea party; a tea party we shall have, unless I am to tired of course...

taking some time to stop and feed the chickens...

Time

I don't believe it! Summer is almost over! Where has the time gone?

I had so many things planned in May that I wanted to do this summer... did I get through my to do list? Of course not. Do I ever get through my to do lists... rarely... but occasionally it happens, just like occasionally we get two full moons in a month.

But honestly, it feels like at times things happen so fast, and

sometimes it feels like time is not moving at all.

For example, this morning I woke up and once again it hits me that my little one will be starting kindergarten in a couple of weeks. Yes, kindergarten. When did my baby grow up? Wasn't I just changing diapers yesterday? When am I going to find time to do back to school shopping? What in the world are you suppose to buy for kindergarten anyways? And then I remember when I was waiting for the result of my pregnancy test, in my bathroom, and those two minutes felt like a lifetime.

Fast or slow... I guess everything averages out over time...

Picture courtesy of: chris gilbert http://www.sxc.hu/profile/iotdfi

More things that I have learned from my daughter.

I am starting to think that I should call my daughter mom...

Before I became a mom, I had these little daydreams of taking my little one to the museum, or the gallery, or little shopping trips, but I did not have any dreams involving acting like a complete idiot just to see a smile on someone’s face (okay only one person), and then feeling really good about it.

Yep, my little one has taught me to be less self-conscious. Who cares if people are staring at us when we do our silly walks or silly dances down the sidewalk (as long as it does not cause a traffic jam), and we are not really hurting anyone if we decide to wear polka-dots and plaid out for lunch one day.

And, most importantly, there is no such thing as laughing too loud (granted there are inappropriate times to laugh, but that is another issue all together). Even if the laughter, right now, is over the word “bum” (yes, it is my child’s newest obsession... jokes about bums and what comes out of them... and yes, I am anticipating a call from her school next year).

So here is to being young, carefree, silly, and all the bum jokes you can take.

Discipline and Punishment

Okay, I know the theory and the reasoning behind discipline and punishment. One is about guidance and teaching, while the later, let’s face it… is about revenge.

Now the problem is about application.

It is very hard to think about discipline when I am a seething ball of rage, and all I can think about is throttling my little one’s throat, like the way Homer does to Bart. Now, I have and probably will NEVER lay a hand on my child, but that does not stop the angry mom in me from thinking about it.

The other problem is that sometimes the logical consequences for discipline is punishing me!

Take for example the other day… my child decided to take forever to eat her lunch, and I was trying to rush her a bit because she has camp (an activity that she thoroughly enjoys). The logical thing to do would be to stay calm and tell her that if she does not finish, there would be no camp. Then I thought about it. If I do not let her go to camp, it would mean I would be stuck with her for the rest of the afternoon… I know, I can take her lunch away, but I think that would actually be a reward for her. And, I am pretty sure my child can last for days (or long enough for someone to call child services on me) and not eat.

So, I walked her to camp. But, during the walk, I was so angry that I was afraid to hold her little hand fearing that I would squeeze it too tight.

Normally, I am not this angry over slow eating, but she has been like this for a couple of days, and she was not eating because she was not paying attention. I think I hit my breaking point when she started to give me attitude when I asked her (nicely) to eat faster. Honestly, when was it okay for a four year old to talk back to her parents?

So, I really do not know what to do. Most of the time, she is a very good girl. She is just stubborn (like both her mom and dad), especially once she is determined to do something.

So here is hoping that she will apply this stubbornness and determination to being a doctor or lawyer…

What I learned from my daughter…

As a mother, a major part of my job is to teach my daughter things. You know, things like looking both ways when crossing the street (even if it is a one way street), chew with your mouth close, boys are icky… the usual stuff. However, this time it was my little one who showed me something…

Sometimes, it is best to throw away the best-laid plan and just go rolling down a hill.

The other day we had a birthday party, and of course there were snacks, pizza, presents and CAKE! Cake is always very important. This party, we tried something different. We had organized games. This is when I truly appreciated how hard her teachers worked - trying to organize a bunch of three and four year olds to do something together that involved order was like trying to herd cats, a group of wild cats.

The kids did play the games, sort of. They had fun, especially when they made up their own rules. But for my little one, the highlight of her day (besides cake and presents) was the sheer joy of running up and down a hill near the birthday party site. Yep, that was it, no need for fancy decorations, weeks of careful planning, hours of praying for no rain, days spent shopping for all sort of party related stuff, all we needed was a hill and some grass and she was happy.

This party made me realize that I over complicate and over think things all the time. I should be happy with what is there, enjoy the simple pleasures in life, and to relax and take a tumble (albeit gentle one) down and hill and just have fun.

Summertime blues…

When I was a kid, I LOVED summer vacation – no school; sleeping in; hanging out with friends; hanging out in front of the TV; being a lazy blob… what is there not to love?

And then I became a parent…

I now view summer vacation with a slight sense of dread. Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with my kid, but I also love the couple of hours that I have to myself while she is in school.I need that time to run errands and to clean the house; okay, who am I kidding, I need those hours to watch useless crap on youtube.

Now, she is officially out of school. And, not only do I lose my Internet time; I feel I must find ways to entertain her. Unfortunately, this leads to my second problem… I am a bit of an obsessive planner and scheduler (I blame this on my father). I will plan when my daughter has time to breathe if I can. Also, I like things to run on MY time – if ‘fun’ time starts at 10:00, then it has to start at 10:00, not 9:59, and sure as hell not 10:01…

Now, my child usually will not follow a schedule (willingly), no matter how prettily colour coded I make it – the child does not feel the sense of urgency about anything; I am pretty sure the house can be on fire, and she will still insist on taking half an hour to put on her shoes herself. I, on the other hand, will start feeling anxious if I am slightly thrown off my carefully laid out plan. Not that either of these extremes is a good thing.

This brings us back to why I use to love summer… the potential to do nothing, and everything.So, this summer, I am going to try to take it easy with my little one and see what she wants to do and go from there. We do have a couple of weekend getaways in the early stages of planning, and she does have a couple of weeks of camps booked, but the rest of the summer is FREE!

So, here’s to sleeping in, playing at the park, digging in the sand, biking to nowhere, going on adventures, doing absolutely nothing, and especially the weeks when she is at camp so that I get my couple of hours back.

To my little darling...

Dear Little One,

I cannot believe that you are another year older! You are becoming such a big girl now, sorry, young lady! I barely remember what life was like before you. I do vaguely recall more sleep and being able to stay out past 9:00. But now, I will not trade you for anything in the world!

So my darling, here are some birthday promises that I would like to make to you. I promise that we will not always agree - I have a feeling this will get worse as you get older - but I will always try to keep an open mind and to listen to you. I promise that I will not be there to catch every fall, but I will always be there to help pick you up. And, most importantly, I PROMISE to LOVE you forever and ever (even if you do drive me crazy).

And here is my birthday wish for you: I wish you to grow up to be happy in whatever it is that you decide to do (even if it is becoming a fairy princess and not a lawyer...).

I still do not believe how big you are getting. And though I miss my little girl (I definitely DO NOT miss changing diapers), I am very much looking forward to meeting the little person you are becoming.

Love,

Mom

The changing me....

As I stood there, alone, at the corner, impatiently waiting for the light to change, it occurred to me that since becoming a mother, I have become a better-behaved person. Note that I did not say a better person… I still have evil thoughts about the jerk that cut me off, and the dink that did not pick up after his/her dog….

So there I am standing, tapping my foot, when suddenly I thought why in the world am I not crossing? There are no cars to be seen for miles, and other people are walking and giving me funny stares.

Now I am thinking, while I was crossing against the light, that my little one has me very well trained. In order to teach her traffic safety, I am now willing to walk half a block out of my way to cross at a light, and will stand there, like a statue, staring at the red hand, even if there are no cars around.

This led me to realize that since I had the kid, I have also started to drive at the speed limit (not that I was a reckless driver, I just drove fast, possibly because I was always late). And, not only do I wear a helmet, I now obey all traffic laws when I am on my bike.

Then, there is also the constant hand washing and stress on cleanliness. Of course I washed my hands before I ate or prepared food etc… but now I wash my hands if I even think they might be dirty.

I have made other changes as well. I try to be more outgoing and friendlier to show my little one that she too can make new friends. I am trying to be more patient. I have learned that children work on their own schedules, which is to say things get done when it gets done… I am learning to control my temper, at least outwardly even if I am seething ball of rage underneath.

I am sure that having a child has changed me in many more ways than what I have listed above, but I just cannot think of one at this time. How has it changed you?

Oh! Yes, I remember another one, I can function on less sleep (though not as well as my college days…), but my memory is shot.

I am still a work in progress…and I hope these changes will not only help me be a better-behaved person, but a better person as well, and most importantly, a better mom.

My little princess

I never imagined that I would be raising a princess; and not just any princess, a little fairy princess…

So, here I am trying to convince my little one to wear something other than a dress every morning. And then it occurred to me, who cares? She will only be this little once. So what if she wants to wear a princess dress to the park, or a tutu, or a gorilla suit (as long as it is weather appropriate… i.e. no summer dresses without six layers underneath when there is snow on the ground… and yes. I know it is April, but it snowed here last week…)

Well, this is the theory I Try to live by… most mornings I am pretty good about not fighting her fashion choices, though I still try to get her to wear something else, mainly because she has LOTS of other clothes. I keep telling myself it is just clothes, and who knows, maybe next week she wants to be a pirate… ‘

The main thing that bothers me about her princess obsession is the importance that she places on her clothes and looking pretty. It is partly my fault: I admit that I think she is adorable, and I often let her know it; and other people has told her that she is cute as well (granted, who really walks up to a kid and goes yuck, you are ugly…). So now, I am worry that I am raising a very vain child who puts a premium on physical appearance.

On the other hand, this may just be a phase… I use to like pink and pretty dresses, and now I live in jeans and t-shirts (I probably go a little too far the other way and not put enough care into my appearance…). I wish I know how to get through to her that her actions are much more important than her outfits and hair accessories. But then, she is three, and is generally well behaved, polite and sometimes even thoughtful.

Maybe I AM the one that is making too big a deal out of this whole princess thing… after all she did tell me once that she is going to be a “princess who rescues other princesses” What else can I ask for…

What kind of parent am I?

I have become one of those parents… you know, the ones that schedule every minute of their child’s life.  Not that there is anything wrong with that type of parenting, but it was not something I strived for.  I was going to be the easy going parent; the let us see where the wind takes us parent… But here I am, with papers scattered around me, scheduling my little one’s fall activities, making sure that there is a variety of programs, that there are no conflicts, that there is time for naps (which, of course must also be scheduled), heck, I am even penciling in ‘free time’.  And yes, I realize it is only August.

 It all started out with good intentions, but you know what they say about good intentions – they become a snowball that rolls you over, flattens you, just so your kids can have a soft comfy place to walk on… Honestly, though it really did start off with me just wanting to expose my daughter to new experiences.  And it started with just two classes, an art class and a sport class.  I wanted her to ‘learn’ something, have fun, and most importantly be around kids her own age.

Now, here I am, calendar in front of me, trying to figure out what classes to sign up for.  Maybe there are just too many options.  Maybe there is just not enough time.  Maybe in trying to help her become a well-rounded individual, I am forgetting to just let her be her, a kid that wants to go out and just have fun. 

One thing I do know for sure… I really have to squeeze in this swimming class somehow.