Yesterday the Director of Katrina's preschool commented at how much "imagination" she has. This is a comment I hear again and again, from numerous sources. I have no idea what that means, based on my previous experience with kids' imaginations, which is pretty much none. But from what it seems to others, Katrina's being a new character every day qualifies.
It is truly adorable, that today she's a bird and tomorrow a butterfly, and that I have to flap my Mommy Bird wings with her on our way out the door. This is the sort of silliness I thought I'd dread as a parent, but it's totally charming.
So why is this so foreign to me? Julian will go along with role-playing if someone else starts it, but I've never seem him initiate. Gabriel -- not ever once. I can't begin to imagine him showing up in a costume with a new name and mythical quest.
My nephew Aidan is the polar opposite, always inventing whole worlds and complex relationships between people and animals and things. That sort of imaginative play-life isn't in Gabriel's DNA, and Julian's only shows up when prompted. So no wonder I can't tell if Katrina's just being a normal kid or if she really is imaginative. I'm told she is, and that's just great. If only I knew what to do with that, though I guess I'm doing OK so far flapping my Mommy Butterfly wings on cue.
Katrina found a toy that had been put away, slated for giveaway, in the garage. Miss Amanda did up her ponytails in little buns today, so cute.
Julian got his cast off today, though he still has a brace for a few weeks. He's complaining that it hurts, but it's hard to separate fact from fiction. This is where he's best at using his imagination -- he imagines he'll get more attention the more he says it hurts, but he loses credibility when he cries "Ow!" when we lightly place a finger on the uninjured arm.
And now it's time to imagine that it's 9pm (it's 11pm) and that I'm going to dream happily away for 10 hours and wake up surrounded by fresh flowers and a fragrant breeze and lay there for half an hour gradually welcoming the world of the awake.
Gabriel has his first 3rd-grade book report due Thursday.
Incredibly, this one has been nearly painless. He's done every step without being bugged or asked. Not entirely on his own -- the teacher puts in his daily homework what step they should accomplish within the next few days, but he's done it.
I read it over tonight to check it, and found that he'd done a really good job at the "Character Sketch," the "Summary" and the "Recommendation." Actually, he writes really pretty well. His handwriting is horrendous -- it's very very hard to read, but I find his choice of words to be pretty insightful and have a good flow.
Perhaps in part thanks to my dedicating some time to reviewing the report when we got home tonight, the evening went amazingly well tonight. It was downright peaceful. Julian set right to work finishing up his week's homework -- all he had left to do was to put 20 words in "abc" (alphabetic) order. Gabriel moans and complains and works himself into tears for over half an hour because he can't stand doing the same task, but Julian just tackles it quietly and gets it done in under 10 minutes.
In fact overall, most of the pain so far with homework is getting the boys just to sit down and do it. The struggle is in separating them from each other and from their irresistable little sister (and in Gabriel's case getting over the outrage at having to do it at all), but once they get going, they're both independent and competent at doing the actual work on their own.
So far, Julian's first-grade homework has been far, far, FAR easier to deal with than Gabriel's was; partly because the work itself doesn't require so much parent participation, partly because it's assigned weekly instead of daily, and partly because Julian is far more cooperative (overall) about doing it.
Despite today's success, it's staggering to think that there will be yet a 3rd to deal with next year. It's so overwhelming...I can't think about that now. I'll think about that tomorrow.
Tonight I gave the kids dinner and put them to bed, so Dave could work late and then attend "Back To School" night at Katrina's preschool.
This morning, the boys had given Dave a really hard time with getting in the car, by hiding behind the garage and forcing him into a stressful search to find them and get going. Our days are very tight, we have everything scheduled down to the last 5 minutes -- there's no room for that sort of nonsense in the morning. For me, every 5 minutes delay at home is another 10 in traffic. So Dave was understandably pretty mad. Another reason to give him a break from dealing with them tonight.
When I picked the boys up today, I got the usual story from CDC teachers about the trouble Gabriel gave them that day. I really am getting tired hearing 10 minutes of "parent communication" about his behavior every day. I have to respond to it and support the CDC teachers of course, I don't blame them at all, but his consistent difficult behavior is getting very tiresome. (Today it was not coming in to the CDC building from the library/auditorium area where the older kids stay, running from the teachers and messing around.)
At dinner tonight, Gabriel complained bitterly about how boring school is. He recently got a 3 out of 6 on a math test, which greatly reduces my sympathy. Of all things that come easy to him, it's the math -- a bad math grade means carelessness. He's not doing that well overall so far in fact, so I explained to him that if he really thinks school is boring, then when he gets perfect grades and has perfect behavior, then we can talk to the principal about advancing him to the 4th grade. That is a blatant lie, because I have no intention whatsoever of skipping him no matter how perfect his grades are. But I will take his complaints about school being "boring" more seriously when he takes it more seriously.
Julian, on the other hand, ran up to me at the CDC and announced brightly, "Guess what Mommy! I finished all my homework for the week!"
After dinner, I shamelessly used dessert as an incentive (bribe?) to get all 3 of them to write "I'm sorry" notes to Dave about their behavior this morning. Katrina really didn't deserve the same blame as her obnoxious brothers, she just went along with the hiding, but she was there, so I had her write a note too.
And to my amazement and delight, she tackled this with enthusiasm and, dare I say it, joy?! I couldn't believe it. She had no trouble writing this note at all. I wrote the words down for her first, and helped her find the next letter so it didn't take all night, but it was clear she knew what the next letter was. Like most new writers, she needed help putting spaces between the words, but she showed surprising control of the pencil and great attention to the method of writing a letter, just as she's been taught. She was very focused, and most of all, very proud of herself. I couldn't believe it! I was very very proud of her too and praised her effort with total abandon.
Her brothers on the other hand....oy.
Gabriel loses dessert most days because of behavior, so he was pretty motivated tonight to write a "sorry" note with the promise of dessert. He grumbled, but the call of chocolate won out. OK.
Julian, Mr. Studious, had more trouble, being rude along the way, then writing the note, then adding "not" to "I am sorry." He lost dessert then and had to get ready for bed, but when he appeared with a new note that he'd written on his own, I conceded 3 small chocolates. Sounds permissive, but I really really really want to encourage contriteness.
I'm completely aware that these apologies are insincere and motivated only by sweets. But as I often tell the kids, "You don't have to feel sorry, but you do have to say you're sorry." It's true. Few apologies in life really are sincere expressions of remorse; they're mostly peacekeepers to move on. And that's fine. Asking a kid to really feel sorry is hard to define and impossible to prove anyway. But saying you're sorry is common courtesy, and is understood socially not as being literally meaningful, but as an important gesture. If the true motive is dessert, then so be it.
Gabriel. Remarkable natural ability in certain things, but so so so difficult. To many adults, not caring what other people think is a quality to be admired and striven for (and all teenagers say that but it's never true). But raising a kid who pretty much truly doesn't care what other people think is really freakin' hard. Social pressure and parental approval are crucial elements in interacting with and controlling -- did I just say controlling? -- guiding your children, and this is something we just don't have as parents. Gabriel is the most emotionally independent "normal" (and perhaps that should be questioned) child I've ever heard of.
I don't mean he's a total rock -- he does need me -- but that side of him is so much harder to reach than most kids. It still shocks me when Katrina bursts into tears in the rare instances that I raise my voice at her. This is where she and her tough-skinned thick-skulled brother really depart. It's not in Gabriel's DNA to cry in reaction to a verbal statement.
The only really consistent soft side to Gabriel -- and he totally has them -- but the only one that's frequently obvious -- is his unrelenting affection and adoration for his sister. I'm not just saying that because of the "awwwwwww" factor, it's really true. But a big factor as to why is because Julian takes the brunt of Gabriel's peer competition and interaction. Gabriel's hapless brother runs interference, if you will, for Katrina, wringing out Gabriel's need to pester and torture and push against, leaving him clean and fresh to be sweet to his sister.
Meantime, all signs so far are that Julian and Katrina will be the better students.
Lots of calm time Saturday, largely because Julian was out of the picture voluntarily or involuntarily. Gabriel and Katrina built Legos together for the better part of the day. Always in the mentor-mentee role of course, but they were happy and proud of their work.
Later I went out to a mini-bachelorette party for one my longtime friends from motorcycling. It's pretty rare that just the women of this group will get together, so it was quite the treat. I laughed to myself when I thought about how we knew each other. Linda, on my left, is the bride, just married Robert, who I've known as long as Dave and had ridden with almost as much. Next to Linda is Joanne, who I'd ridden with many times too, or rather, saw her taillight for a curve or too and then she was gone. Next to Joanne is Tammy, who did a monthlong trip to Alaska with Linda. Then Tammy and her boyfriend Tom, a pilot from Germany, sailed around the world for 3 years. Lee, in the foreground, has done many of the same trips I have but somehow we never rode together much. She's also done lots of backbacking and foreign travel and got me all inspired to do a trip to Peru based on one she did last year.
Sara hadn't arrived yet in time for this photo, but she's the only woman in the group that I've had more typical woman bonding experiences with, when we were in prenatal yoga classes together, and we both have preschoolers now. But Sara still rides these days, unlike me, sniff. I think only two or three women in the group don't actually ride themselves, but are adventurers on the back of their guys' bikes. Rubye is one of those, she organized this event and we've been friends for years -- and her husband Reid was one of my favorite riding partners. I'm not sure where I fit into that anymore...I was certainly one of the most active in my day, but now I'm the only one besides Sara with young children. (Tammy has two grown sons.)
Anyway, though the conversation will sometimes turn to motorcycle mechanics, it's still the girls getting together with the girls, and it was a great time.
Tough afternoon with Gabriel...punched Julian in the eye, then was troublesome and astoundingly rude to the point that I ended up not letting him come swimming with us. To implement that consequence, it meant leaving him home alone or no one went, and Katrina had really earned it.
I'd rather think about my time being a normal grownup around a fantastic group of women with whom our most common element is motorcycles!
Getting home today, the sun was in a funny position a behind this flax plant. Perched on a small boulder in front of it, with its spiky purple leaves seeming to emanate from behind the subject, made for a fun goofy photo.
Wings! (Gabriel declined.)
A decent evening as ours go, but that still means a lot of correcting, repeating, warning, eventually yelling and screaming (theirs first then ours). Tonight was Julian's turn. The smallest thing causes him to screech at the top of his lungs, so as a consequence he has to sit outside until he's quiet for 5 minutes, but of course that only marks the beginning of the conflict escalation. I swear I think age 2 was his best year.
After dinner, Gabriel and Katrina helped me make peanut butter cookies with a chocolate kiss in the middle, something I made for a friend's birthday yesterday and gave away, so the kids wanted some too. I love making things with my new stand mixer; it makes even the simplest recipe so much easier.
But even more, I love making things with the kids. Peanut-butter cookies that need rolling in sugar and a chocolate kiss in the middle are great fun with them. And no privilege is greater than getting to operate my stand mixer.
I just wish Julian had been with us making cookies instead of upstairs crying in his room for being kicked out after the 29th infraction (hurting Katrina's hand after being told numerous times to move away from her). I wish it weren't that way; moments enjoying all three together are so rare and so coveted.
I'd rather think about this Julian. I love him so much, our little oddball. He doesn't have Gabriel's powerful personality or Katrina's charms, and his drama and tendency toward victimhood doesn't wear well in this literal and technical household. All this and in the "middle child" position. If there's a different one in the family, it's Julian. Most of the time that's an asset. Today wasn't most of the time unfortunately, but I have high hopes for tomorrow.
Today was a bad stomach day, made worse by a forced face time at a pizza lunch with execs. By noon at work, I'm ready for a break -- and it's no break to sit -- or stand -- for an hour in an overcrowded stuffy room listening to executives answer irrelevant questions with long 10-minute meaningless answers.
Already uncomfortable, my remedy for a sour tummy and a bad mood had been to go running at lunch, but this became politically impossible. The bitterness only increased when I realized the person who demanded my face do time there had ducked out himself. I was asked many times why I wasn't having pizza, and while I had a lot of reasons, the truth was, I just didn't feel well.
A coworker asked if my chronic stomach pain is from stress. "Are you stressed?" she asked.
Am I stressed. Am I stressed? What a funny question. I was hard-pressed to think of something in my life that I'm not stressed about. I like my work, but the political aspects of the environment are emotionally stressful. My children stress me, but the guilt of being away from them stresses me more. Even the things I enjoy bring stress, in that I never feel like I can dedicate any real time or attention to them. Hovering over everything is nonstop, relentless, constant tiredness. Never getting the right kind of sleep at the right time -- weekend afternoons after a nap are the only time of the week when I feel sharp.
Today Dave picked up the kids, so I had a few relaxed minutes at home before the troops came home. When they did, Gabriel burst into the kitchen, threw up his hands and yelled, "I am SO stressed out!!!"
He did have a lot of homework, and I helped him with some of it, mostly just motivating him. One thing he had to do was to bring "clippings" of a "regional land form," but couldn't be specific about what that meant. I printed some photos of the Pinnacles from our trip last May, but I wasn't about to do all the work. So I showed him how the Pinnacles had been formed (with plates along the San Andreas fault carrying a split volcano 195 miles north over 23 million years), had him write him it down, and then we looked at animations of tectonic plates moving, how mountains are formed and how earthquakes happen.
That was actually fun. Somehow being with my stressful and stressed-out son tonight de-stressed us both.
I went to get the boys up at about 6:45am, and to my amazement, they were both dressed, shoes on, backpacks ready and on the porch, had had breakfast, and were playing together quietly. That's the rule, and they met it! It's stunning how much easier our mornings are when they cooperate. Not only do we have a great deal more time, we have joy, freedom to think, room to smile and laugh and new will to live. When they're cooperative like this, it underscores how incredibly draining and miserable our usual mornings pushing them every step of the way are.
I sure wish I knew how to reproduce that magic, because it was good.
A new acronym: WFH. Working From Home. I like OOO better -- Out Of Office.
I stayed home today, with no regrets, with a low-energy but overall healthy Julian. He has sniffles but his temp never returned, and he rested and read a lot today. This let me work....and do some other things that desperately needed attention.
I swear, as soon as I have a chance to tackle the building pile of ToDos, I'm stunned by how large and how smelly that pile has gotten. I took care of a few things today that if I hadn't done today, I'd have been in serious time trouble (relating mostly to the Sept. 30th deadline for completely Dad's Medicaid application).
Some of that pile included a stock-up trip to Target. Having Julian with me turns a drudgerous chore into quality time with my son, incredibly. He liked that he can finally see over the carts now, and was very helpful pushing the cart around. What a wonderful, delightful, funny child when his brother isn't around to compete with for the Most Obnoxious Son award.
I was determined not just to get absolutely necessary things done though. In addition to phone calls made, letters written and sent, packages put together and mailed, emails sent, store items returned and bills paid, I also went to a framing store to finally, finally put some artwork together for our bare walls. Actually, I should say, to add to a building pile of artwork to put up on the walls -- like most things around here, it just hasn't happened. I was really impressed with our friend Paul and Elisabeth's house decoration last weekend -- while I'm not quite as enamored with cat art as they are, I do appreciate actually having things on the walls. It's long overdue for us.
Amidst all these home errands, most of the day was actually spent working. That WFH thing. I did a lot of work actually -- in fact it kept me from really getting ahead on "homework," but alas, deadlines loom regardless.
This risk of suspension thing really has us in a tizzy.
Gabriel's principal said that "next time" Gabriel will be suspended for hitting. Next time when? This school year? The rest of his life at Collins? Seems to me a clear probationary period should be established. I don't mean that he should think he can revert to his old ways after 3 months, but I also think that the constant vague threat will lose its meaning too.
Also, we found out that the kid that Gabriel punched risked suspension too. Now that's really arbitrary. That makes me think that the principal is throwing around that word without really thinking about it. It means a lot to parents, and it needs to be better-defined. Dave and I are doing some research on school and California policy (thanks SR!) and plan to talk to the principal about it.
I chatted this afternoon briefly with the very very very very very nice Mom of the kid who Gabriel punched. She assured me that they were total pals again, that her son wasn't completely innocent either, and that it wasn't a problem. She is SO nice, I felt so much better. A lot of Moms would be understandably PO'd if their kid got in trouble with the principal for being punched!
I titled this post "Insights" because of two remarkable things Gabriel said today, one of which came now.
I told Gabriel that his friend now risks suspension too. Gabriel frowned and said, "That doesn't make any sense -- he's not the one who got in trouble!"
Ya gotta love this kid's clarity.
Moments later, the mom of one of Julian's kindergarten classmates, and a rare neighbor, parked next to my car and got out. I was floored to see that she's pregnant, and she laughed about needing to park as close as possible these days. After I drove away, I told Julian that his former classmate was going to have a sister, and wasn't it exciting that our neighbor is pregnant. Gabriel responded, "I don't care if anyone's pregnant -- unless it's you. Now that would be OK." Taken aback, I asked him, "Why is it OK if I'm pregnant?" And he answered, "Because that would mean more family members."
What's stunning is his tone of voice. He says it so impassively, so factually. He doesn't say it pensively or with anticipation, as you'd expect about a kid talking about a potential sibling. It's like it's SO obvious. Gabriel has said before that he'd like another sister or brother, and takes it in stride when I tell him I'm not having any more babies. Aside from the technical reasons (I'm 47 and had a tubal ligation), NO more babies.
In fact, I told my pregnant neighbor, "Congratulations -- but stop at TWO!"
I do think stopping at two is smart, and I often lament how difficult it is to spend any concentrated time with one or two. It's not just that three divides your attention across three children; it divides your attention across three stages of life. Unless you were smart about it and had twins or triplets that is. Maybe this is why I like taking the boys on excursions so much, because then we're all in the same "place" for a day.
But while two is smart, perhaps more livable and more intimate, when you're in the life of 3, for better or worse, you are glad for each individual. While the life of 3 is often very hard for us, we could never say we didn't want the 3rd. It's the challenging first two that makes life so tough these days -- Katrina happily reminds us of the joys of childhood. Lately, she makes it worth it. I'm told I'll be saying the same about her brothers when she's 13 or 14.
But tomorrow, I get the ideal situation: one. Julian came home with a temperature today, and while he perked up before bedtime (insisting on doing his homework?!), I'd already decided to keep him home tomorrow. Odds are good his temperature and lethargy will return, and he was complaining of a headache (that freaks me out) and a sore throat. A day alone with my #1 #2 boy will be just fine with me.
Dave and I went away for the weekend together, for the first time since our first child was born. We drove north to a private community called Sea Ranch, which really is private -- a giant homeowner's association maintains the roads and hiking trails for the hundreds of houses along a 10-mile stretch of coast. A good friend has a house there and kindly let us use it for the weekend.
It's an amazing thing about California, but not doing much for the weekend means that you're doing something that countless people all over the world want to do -- view the stunning Pacific Coast. And we didn't do much this weekend, but didn't need to. This was the view from the living room.
A 10-second walk takes you to these low cliffs. Tempting to climb, but still plenty dangerous.
We really made sure not to do too much. And being right on the coast, you don't have to do much to be doing a lot. About a mile down Hwy 1 was access to a wonderful little beach, with a favorite sunning spot for harbor seals and nice little coves. I love climbing over the big rocks and looking for marine wildlife, and came across clusters of shellfish, mussels I think. Soberly I realized that that must mean where I'm standing is usually underwater. We spent a lot of time here just looking at the waves and birds, and occasionally seeing a harbor seal pop his head out of the water.
We went out to a nice dinner at a low-key place with a surprisingly high-brow menu, and watched some travel documentaries about towns in the Italian countryside. We hardly looked at the clock, because for once, we didn't need to.
Sunday we took a leisurely drive home, taking the "backroads" of course, of which there are many up there. The smaller off-the-beaten-path roads in Northern CA are mecca for motorcyclists, and while the experience isn't quite the same in a car, it sure beats droning along behind self-righteous putzy SUVs who doesn't know anything about turnouts on Highway One. Driving, navigating, deciding routes is something that Dave and I are always in sync on, since our early friendship was centered around adventurous road (and often off-road) trips.
We got home with 20 minutes to spare before our self-imposed deadline. I was apprehensive but happy to see our children -- would the boys launch immediately into obnoxious mode and remind us how difficult our lives have been recently? No, it seemed that Gabriel, to my surprise and delight, had engaged our weekend nanny with Yahtzee and card games. She said usually she works the game to let the kid win a little, but with Gabriel she worked hard and still lost. Julian had been asked to leave until he could play without disrupting the game, and Katrina was happily chatting about being a bird today (she's always some new character every day), while the nanny worked on her ponytails. I felt a stab of guilt that I never sit and play Yahtzee with them, but really, that's not my thing. Ping-pong, and when we get a trampoline, sure.
Back to reality tomorrow, but what a delightful, and much-needed, diversion from it.
Our 10th wedding anniversary today! What a joyful day it was 10 years ago, and what a so awful one today.
Anyone following Facebook knows what I mean, but for those who don't I'll brief you. In addition to work overload at work, being tired as usual, and home overload getting ready to go our weekend trip tomorrow, there's the email we got from the principal today.
Gabriel hit another kid and both were sent to the office. For once there's no ambiguity or disagreement about the story -- the other kid (a friend, or former friend he claims) did something with a ball several times that made Gabriel mad, and Gabriel punched him. His friend told on him, and they were both sent to the office to sort it out. Gabriel completely admits to this, and has no remorse at all. He was furious when I took away his remote-controlled car until Sunday though, then sent him to his room so I could talk to Dave. He completely refused to go upstairs, so I started counting additional days his car would be suspended. By the time he finally conceded, his car's timeout extended into October.
He risks suspension next time. I'm really mad!
And I'm worried: this is only the 4th week of school. By the end of 2nd grade I was just barely hanging in there, grateful for every day that passed without incident. But there's a LOT of time left for trouble in 3rd grade. And what do we do about a suspension? We need to be prepared with a serious consequence, and warn him of it as a deterrent. Yes, we also need to do all the warm fuzzy talking stuff too, but Plan B must be solidly in place.
My mind has been completely occupied with this tonight, instead of getting ready for our trip or chatting happily about our beautiful and joyful wedding 10 years ago. I hope we can leave this all behind us tomorrow. Actually, I hope I don't feel too guilty about just how quickly we will.
I felt the dread building as I left work to pick up the kids.
I was already tired and strung out, irritated at being scolded at work for my blatant honesty about a very sensitive topic: software quality. Because, you know, we don't want to hurt anyone's feelings about....bugs. This political correctness lecture comes from someone who refers to a skilled engineer as "my girl" or who makes a comment about another high-ranking engineer's bald head in front of the whole group, or who embarrasses a manager by saying he's being sexist for referring to his team as "my guys." That stuff is all OK. But if I inform that documentation quality is "spotty" -- -breach-breach-- call Emily Post, quick! Then get condescended to for 15 minutes on how not to present the truth.
Sorry dude, what you see is what you get, I tell it straight and don't know how else to work. Pussyfooting, sugar-coating, and tiptoeing on the border of lying-by-omission wasn't in the job description. I'm about network protocol, not royal protocol.
That's far far more than I should ever post to a public blog, but this sort of thing weighs heavily on me, it's my life, and I stand by it. Even when I'm not thinking about it, it's there, churning in the background. I need chill, transition, relax time to let it go before turning to my other life at home.
But there is no such time -- from home to work, it's truly out of the frying pan into the fire.
I countered my apprehension by picturing Katrina's joyful face when she sees me, running with her arms outstretched and laughing, "MOMMYYYY!!!!" That's really fun. She's happy to see me and cooperative about going to the bathroom, washing her hands, and carrying her lunch to the car, usually in character (crocodile today). Miss Amanda says she loves drama!
But the chaos and crushing work really starts in picking up the boys. I have to tell them numerous times to get their things and go, about 1 time out of 5 storming out in anger and swearing they'll have to walk home. Other days, like today, I get diverted by a CDC careworker who's had some issues that day. She pulled me aside to talk about Gabriel.
"He's been really difficult lately," she said in a serious tone, "And nothing we do fazes him -- he just doesn't care!" She was looking for support and suggestions, and got a lot of support. For suggestions, I told her that too were at our wits' end and had no idea at all what to do. As parents we're supposed to be in control, but we relinquished that fantasy a long time ago.
Fortunately, incredibly, the boys have a Camp Day coming up on Friday. And Gabriel wants to bring a radio-controlled car that's been on timeout forever. I told him he had to be perfect tonight -- not ONE offense. If he was, then I'd talk to Dad over dinner about getting it back to him. That meant no reminding, no scolding, no telling him to stop doing something he's not allowed to do, no countdowns, no ignoring, no rude responses, and no pestering.
And he pretty much succeeded. Having this incentive turned the evening around. That and some Calvin & Hobbes books we got at the library on Sunday -- the boys are hooked ever since getting some C&H books from their cousin. The evening was far far more peaceful and manageable and .... dare I say ... almost pleasant than it has been in weeks. No one was sent out to the front porch for screaming, no one got timed out, I didn't have to chase anyone out of the room, I didn't have to take anything away. Multiple reminders sometimes, but overall it came a little closer to a normal night.
You know, I was only going to write a short paragraph tonight, but I guess I needed to dish on having a fairly normal evening. We just haven't had a lot of those. So here's what this post should have been.
At dinner, Gabriel pointed a double-barrel finger gun at Katrina and got her to put her hands up. Then he aimed at Julian and said, laughing, "Pay up, squirt!"
For some reason I found this so funny it flipped my anxious frustration into a hysterical giggle fit, which they found funny too. "Pay up squirt?!" I laughed, "Where did that come from?" (They have been reading a lot of comics lately.) Gabriel smiled at me and said, "My natural silliness!"
That's what he says anyway, but I'll take it. Finally, a day in which my own children are not my top aggravators. I think I'll channel his natural silliness some more now.
It wasn't looking good getting home tonight with the boys, a repeat of yesterday's struggle just to get them out of the car.
But somehow it turned around; Julian went right upstairs to finish his homework packet for the week, and later Gabriel later helped him review his spelling words. To my surprise and delight, so far Julian is solid in spelling.
In fact, the old Julian who impressed us with his work diligence in kindergarten is back. He insisted on finishing his whole week's homework packet tonight, he gladly did his reading (two science books he picked himself at the school library today), and his teacher sent me a note that he finished all his work in class yesterday and was rewarded with teaching the class a song. She'd been having trouble getting him to stay focused and had to redirect him a lot (all expected stuff for new first-graders of course), but he's been much better the past two days.
No evening at the Doudna household could possibly pass without some screaming, yelling, chasing, scolding, threatening, warning, voice-raising or countdowns, but overall it went a lot better tonight.
And lucky me, I haven't grilled in weeks, but I happened to be outside grilling chicken when I heard a large whooshy jet-ish sort of sound above, and saw a large form in the air through the redwood leaves. It wasn't moving fast, maybe just a helicopter, but it didn't sound like that.
And then, a real live C-17 emerged in its magnificence, looking even more tremendous in the sky than we saw just a few weeks ago on the ground.
I called out excitedly for the boys, who came running, and we ooh'd and aah'd together as the behemoth, modestly hiding its stunning agility, nonchalantly approached Moffett Federal Airfield. The older C-130s we see fly overhead all the time seem to approach much faster. I don't know anything about jets v. props (except that it's easier for props to take off from aircraft carriers), but maybe the engine properties of this plane make a slower approach possible, or maybe the C-17 pilot, aware of his plane's awesome power, was just being polite to the appreciative -- and very thrilled -- residents below. This is only the second C-17 I've seen land at Moffett, I've seen far more F-16 fighters than this gigantic cargo plane. WAY cool.
The first C-17 we saw from home (May 2009), before I knew I'd see this plane fly in an airshow a few weeks later and be blown away. At the time, this first C-17 sighting was so impressive that I grabbed my camera:
Then the C-17 we saw at the airshow at Edwards AFB last year. I got to meet the pilot a few weeks ago at the Watsonville airshow (unfortunately the demos were grounded due to a recent crash in Alaska).
Come to think of it, that's what pulled the boys out of their obnoxiousness and turned the evening around into a relatively tolerable one. Thanks, C-17. Fabulous, functional, and great timing.
Yay! Katrina can finally, finally, climb up and down a barstool herself. And she's very proud of it!
She's been so adorable and fun and delightful. Tantrums are no longer a daily thing, and she's cooperative and cheerful about doing the few things we ask (like putting lunch or shoes away), and super happy playing with everything else, or just chatting together. This is total fun!
I had an amusing conversation with another mom at preschool today. I made a comment about her daughter's cute funky outfit, laughing, "Hey, cool psychedelic pants, Alison!" The girl's pants were brightly colored with lots of designs, and matched her T-shirt; it was really cute. Her mother rolled her eyes semi-joking and said, "Now that she insists on picking her clothes, that's what we end up with!" I answered in partial corroboration, "Hey believe me, I know -- Katrina picks all her clothes and we end up with this --" pointing to her purple striped shirt paired with dark-blue flowered leggings (changed after she got home to brown polka dots). "Oh I know," answered the mom, "Doesn't that make you crazy?!"
Uh, no, not at all. Compared to what her brothers put us through in the mornings, the fact that she picks her own clothes and usually puts them on herself is downright delightful. And I really, truly do not care that her pants and shirt don't match. If I even notice, I think it's funny.
The boys meantime...the painful saga continues. Starting at 5:30am today. Since we instituted a "no toys after 6:30am" rule, Gabriel made sure to get up extra-special early today to drop marbles on the wooden floor, waking the rest of the house except Julian who was already forced awake by the lights on. Needless to say, the "after 6:30am" concession was nixed immediately for "AT ALL until you're COMPLETELY ready for school." And add to that, "No lights on until 6:30am" -- it's just not fair to the other brother.
Gabriel was nonplussed when I informed him of this development in the car on the way back from school, so the resistance picked up right where it left off even before we got into the house. I'm finding that the video camera goes a long way toward improving their behavior -- and mine, because I'm certainly going to save my screaming like a lunatic and losing control for off-camera.
Here's Gabriel deliberately refusing a direct order, and losing 20 minutes of playtime as a consequence.
(Could I just leave him in the car? Sure, it's safe in our cushy suburban neighborhood. But what if it weren't? What if we lived where my sister does, where the car is in a parking lot and you have to go through two locked gates to get to your door? And what if you think your kid just needs to do as he's asked? What if you need to move on with the evening without getting stuck at the first step? I'd already tried ignoring him for a few minutes, to let the situation defuse, but if that goes on too long then I find him playing outside and ignoring me. It is not too much of an imposition on his childhood to ask that he get out of the car, put his lunch and knapsack away, and start his homework -- which he could easily have chosen to do after school.)
Here's Gabriel later when I attempt to implement that consequence.
I'm glad to say that the camera put the kibosh on most of his rude comments, but sorry to say that both interactions ended up with palm-on-butt; the second time because he said something so offensively rude I'm too ashamed to post it.
Half the people who hear and read about our issues think we're being too soft, and the other half think we're being too harsh. Some say that he needs more attention; others say he needs more consequences. In the old days, there was consensus on how to raise children, and that's not necessarily better. I'm glad that spanking isn't a way of life for all kids anymore, but I'm sorry that it's viewed as so extreme that you're categorized as old-school, intolerant or unwilling to consider modern methods. I don't think spanking or raising your voice is necessary or desirable for most children (Katrina), but I do think that some children need very very strong measures (Julian). No one seems to know what to do with this one who rises to the challenge, embraces conflict, and meets you every step of the way.
If you do think of something, replace the part where you say "and that's IT" with "and that STARTS it," and you'll see the problem. There is no "and that's IT." Every consequence leads to another reaction and more escalation.
It was a better night for me though. I mostly kept my cool, though I was furious at having to literally put Gabriel to bed -- undress him, force him into the bath, brush his teeth, pull him out of the bath, put his pajamas on, since even after having his current favorite toy put away (the noisy morning marbles) he had nothing to lose and resisted and refused every single step. When I offered him a book to read in bed, he retorted, "Yes, a book called 'Why Are Moms Stupid'!" and I left.
This child is going to change the world, for better or worse, starting by changing me.
I know I seem negative about child-raising sometimes. People who know me well know that's mostly just the way I talk, that in fact I tend to be optimistic and positive about life in general, but I also am the first to look for the flaw in a plan too.
Lately it's been difficult to be anything but negative about the boys. Everything, and I do mean everything, we do has become a huge struggle with them. Every step of the day can be a fight, and every consequence carried out only escalates.
Even the one thing I could count on is gone with Gabriel: getting out of the bath. It used to be that a cup of cold water would put a quick end to his defiance about getting out, but no longer. Tough-cookie that he is, his willingness for conflict is stronger than the normal human dislike of sudden cold.
It's really bringing Dave and me down. We try to find measures that are consistent and that get them to comply with a request quickly, without the painful ramp-up and without all the screaming and yelling, on both sides. We try to give them warnings, we try talking to them when it's not in the heat of the moment, we try separating them, we try compromising, we try not compromising at all and being absolute, immediately. But every conflict has its own parameters, and no one approach works in every situation. Often no approaches work at all and we find ourselves in a massive hysterical conflict that started with something as simple as putting shoes away. We can expect both being furious, overwhelmed, frustrated and miserable.
Today was no different. It started off badly even before anyone was dressed. The boys got into a fight, Gabriel whacked Julian and made him scream, Gabriel got something taken away, and then the trouble really started. I had to put him outside on the porch because of unbearable high-pitched screeching, which he does specifically to punish us (he doesn't have Julian's vocal strength but it's still awful), and then when he was outside he started ringing the doorbell incessantly. Spanking, back outside, then more doorbell-ringing and banging on the door. More spanking, more threats, more yelling, more scolding, more conflict, more incredible unpleasantness -- all at 7:30am before I've even woken up. When I let him back in, he rushed at me with a raised fist.
The whole day doesn't go like this of course, but even just 10 minutes of it is too much. I got Gabriel to recover from the morning conflict by talking to him in the kitchen (it wasn't easy, I had to get Katrina out). He says blood-chilling things like that he just wants to kill himself, that he hates being alive, that he'll find a machine gun and shoot himself. But if he's sitting talking to me telling me this, then with enough time I can talk to him and get him out of it. I tell him I know how he feels, that it's OK to be really angry, and ask him if there are other ways he can express that anger, and make suggestions. I tell him he can't hit Julian like he does, even when Julian makes him really really mad.
While I talked to him, I was making biscuits, where there's plenty of opportunity to divert the conversation to more pleasant things. "Oh, can you push that flour over here? thanks." Or, "Do you think that's 1/2 an inch high?" By the time the biscuits were baked, Gabriel only wanted to kill Julian, not himself, and he was on track for the moment. He liked the biscuits though there were sort of plain.
I had offered to take the boys to the BMX park today, but decided I had to take that away because they were being so awful. One place we had to go was the library, as Gabriel has his "September" book report due. I reminded the boys before we entered the library that they had to be good here, and was met with rude, "AAUUUGHHHH MOM -- I'm NOT LISTENING! WE **KNOW*** !!!"
But a miraculous thing happened. Not only were they really good in the library, they were both mostly much better for the rest of the day too. The immediate conclusion is "oh they must be bored!" and that could be part of it, but that's not the whole picture.
When it was time to get ready for dinner, I let Julian know ahead of time, and asked him to go wash his shirts, then get ready for dinner. He completely ignored me, but I was cooking so couldn't deal with it right away. I knew that following through with this simple request would likely be a huge fight again, so I got the camera to document it. Dear readers, I do not make this stuff up!
However, the presence of the camera drastically improved his reactions. He still ignored me, but he didn't launch right into his screaming rude objections. This was the best he's been in days reacting to my asking him to do something.
Why is this? Why do we seem to have such a harder time with them than other parents? Or maybe that's not true, and I'm just more negative or brought down by it?
I really do think that 70% of it is Gabriel. Julian is no innocent, but he's more impressionable and open-minded, and is egged on a lot by Gabriel. Without Gabriel, Julian's troubles decrease somewhat. Gabriel, on the other hand, is is own man and I think conflicts with him would exist pretty much as is, no matter who else is involved. His hyperactive pest mode is created by having others around, but his will for conflict is his own. His independence and toughness is extraordinary, and he's extraordinary in several ways, but as I've said many times, that does not make him easy to live with. In this particular phase of life, it's a real downer.
But we have a very very bright spot in all this. Without this bright spot, Dave and I both would be feeling like this whole parenting thing was a total bust, except for our delightful joyous darling daughter.
I don't know if Katrina is sensing that her brothers are sending us over the edge and she's milking it, but she's been the picture-perfect charming child lately. She's fun to talk to, she makes up characters and stories and is fun to listen to talk about it. She likes to be silly, and she likes to be serious, asking me about what I'm doing in the kitchen or anything else. She likes to sit and play with a calculator, finding sums with great joy "Look Mommy, 8 + 3 is ELEVEN!!!". She's been huggy and affectionate and saying "Daddy, I love you!" out of the blue. She's cooperative when we ask her to do something, and while we might have to remind her to put her shoes away a few times, she does it sweetly.
What a drastic difference. It's like a completely different universe. Scolding, warning, taking things away, spanking -- all completely unthinkable with her. She still has her tantrums from time to time, but they're toddler-type tantrums (and I hate those), they're not ones you can respond to the same way as defiant-kid conflicts.
Yesterday I took her to a birthday party for a pre-K classmate. It was nice chatting with other moms and being in a happy-child place for a while.
Katrina was very impressed with the pilot with the purple plane at the Watsonville airshow two weekends ago, a pilot named Vicky Benzer. She plays with this cardboard roll plane and makes it flip around the way Vicky did, and talks about Vicky the pilot. Quite the role model!
I'm filled with guilty relief at the weekend being over.
Look what Dave surprised me with!!!!!! Yippeeeee!!!
Lots of nice wishes from friends & family, a night out with a fabulous dinner, a rare chance to really really talk to my witty insightful clear-thinking intelligent husband, a goat-cheese cheesecake with a glass of chocolate port that Dave insisted I try and was amazing.
I've complained endlessly that the worst part of my day is walking in the door after work with all 3 kids and having to leap right into the grueling work of homework, dinner, lunches, giving kids attention, general triage. All I really want is a few minutes to change my clothes, relax, and transition to my "home work."
Today I got us all home early enough that in theory, a few minutes to myself first was possible. But as I was changing my clothes, I heard Katrina screaming and crying in the backyard, and it wasn't stopping. It wasn't pain; it was like when Gabriel takes her little 12" bike and rides it around laughing and taunting her as she runs after him crying her broken little heart out.
Furious at getting my few minutes interrupted so rudely, I changed hurriedly and ran downstairs, to find Katrina trapped in the backyard because Gabriel had shoved the garbage cans up against the opening (he was supposed to put them away). Meantime, he and Julian were running around outside with their knapsacks on the ground, their lunches nowhere near the kitchen, and homework nowhere close to started. As usual.
I go through this every day, and habit does not make it easier. It only makes me madder, more upset, more depressed, and more frustrated every day at how difficult this part of the day is. The boys continued to disobey while I attended to Katrina's tears, and as usual were defiant and rude when I instructed them again to go put lunches away. Pretty much every step of the way -- literally, getting them in the door, is a huge struggle.
Usually we can recover around dinnertime, but only through a tremendous effort on my part. Tonight I talked to the boys about the recent C-17 crash in Alaska that grounded the C-17 demo at the Watsonville airshow last weekend, but some days I just don't have the energy or creativity to find something to distract them from their nonstop noisemaking, complaining, demands and making obnoxious repetitive sounds to irritate Katrina.
Katrina, on the other hand, has been the model child. Charming, talkative, helpful, cooperative, funny, smiling, even affectionate; full of happy chatter and astute observations. She has much more concept of continuity and sequencing than the boys did at her age; for instance, she knows her birthday is coming up and that's almost 4 and she talks about it a lot. She also remembers, or perhaps just communicates, surprising little details about things that happened a long time ago in her world ("Remember? Remember we had alphabet pasta at CAMPING?" (in August 2009 when you were 2, no I had forgotten about the alphabet pasta!) The boys at her age thought much more in-the-moment -- still do, really.
But it's difficult to enjoy her when I'm trying to make dinner and I hear a smacking sound followed by a pathetic wail and then a haughty, "well you DESERVED that." Then I have to send Gabriel to his room, never a simple affair -- he responds to the initial instruction with defiance, "NO I'm going to do my homework down HERE," and rudeness, "Can't you SEE you're in my WAY," and outright refusal, followed by my threatening to take something away (like dessert) if he doesn't comply immediately. He might walk away slowly, then he might return with an item from the office, and enter into the kitchen holding the item up. He'll walk up to me with no fear at all and show me the item (in this case a jack converter for headphones) and say deadpan, "If this were a weapon, I'd shoot you right now."
So much for "Send him to his room and that's it."
After the brief pause at dinner, Julian resumed the cause and was a nonstop litany of excuses, complaints, obnoxious comments and tones of voices, and then screaming and crying when even the slightest consequence was applied ("That's it, go upstairs now").
Would my not working full-time make this any better? Would having more time with them in the afternoon give us more margin for error, or only increase opportunity for conflict? I know well that full-time momming is no picnic and is very prone to the "green grass" syndrome. I can't say for sure if I was happier being a full-time mom, since the kids' phases of life were so different and I was so different. I started this job not long after Gabriel started kindergarten, though it was part-time until recently -- still, school life and work life hit together.
I like working, I like being around grownups and being focused during the day....but the transition to being a mom again in the afternoon is brutal.
Coffee, Cheesecake & Chatter! This time with a special guest: a Las Madres mom friend who moved to New Zealand, and just moved back (plus one more son and a dog). Great hearing about how life is where the grass really is greener.
You'd think I'd be immune to being impressed by what kids learn in school by the 3rd one, but I'm not for Katrina. I'm impressed.
I hope it's not because Katrina is a girl and I secretly harbor lower expectations for her, and I hope it's not because her brothers both showed some extraordinary abilities early on that she hasn't yet. I think it's mostly because she's really a lot younger than the boys were at this stage of her schooling and it's easier to be surprised when she is up to "grade level" for lack of a better term.
And I'm also just a proud mom of a happy, delightful, charming, engaging, bright little light in our household, bringing joy streaming through the clouds of gloom and fury that her brothers have been dusting up.
Katrina's pre-K schoolwork consists of 7 or 8 worksheets a week, that teach things like opposites, shadow shapes, upper and lower case, sequencing, picking a different item out of a list of items, matching shapes, finding objects in a drawing. Some of this is stuff kindergartners do.
Here she traces numbers, then writes them, then traces the word version of the number.
Here she circles the opposite image.
And check out her name! She has handwriting! And it's already pretty darned close in quality to the boys'! Somehow, both boys have the worst handwriting in their classes.
Gabriel, meantime, is flubbing the one subject we always thought would be a breeze for him -- math. He says he gets tired, he says he doesn't have enough time. Looking at something sort of like a math test he had to take, he made sloppy mistakes that I know he knows easily (e.g. 17 - 9 = 12). I'm not sure what's going on here, but his teacher mentioned he gets tired during math, and he says so too. Time of day relative to recess and/or lunch? I don't know, but something's going on.
Julian goes between complaining about doing his work, to not wanting to stop. His teacher is not impressed with his socializing and inability to stay focused on his classwork. But Julian can be very very focused without distraction, and he can be very serious about his schoolwork too. It's easier to get him to do his work than Gabriel.
But so far, Katrina takes her schoolwork seriously and really seems to enjoy it. Before you think she's being shackled academically, she comes home with more art projects and drawings and paintings and sand in her shoes from playing outside than worksheets. She's getting plenty of fun and play too at the marvelous nicely balanced preschool she's in. But though she stubbornly refused to do her worksheets at first, now she enjoys them and takes pride in them. She may yet be our star student!
I've been sick all weekend, except today mostly due to tons and tons of sleep and rest after we got home yesterday. I wasn't so sick as to miss an airshow -- I liked the distraction, even if I had to blow my nose every 5 minutes.
I don't have time to write a lot -- busy night for us after a busy day getting rid of things in the garage (YAYAYAYAAYAYYYYY), then swimming on a hot afternoon with friends. Full writeup of the airshow later, but a few teasers here.
On their way to my favorite plane, the C-17. Unfortunately one crashed a few weeks ago rehearsing for an airshow, so they're grounded for demos right now. But we did get to walk in and get up to the flight deck. I talked to the same pilot who'd flown it at the airshow at Edwards last October! Coool!
I was really psyched to see this lovely B-25 fly -- a new restoration after 18 years of work, and then get a very quick chance to climb up into the cockpit. This is the land-based plane that flew off the USS Hornet in the Doolittle Raid, our first attack on Japan after Pearl Harbor.
We saw a lot of great stunt flying, including by two women and a 20-year-old man. Katrina's favorite was the "shark plane."
My favorite is always the C-17, but I was thrilled to be buzzed by an F-18. It came in SO fast that you couldn't hear it at first -- it was already past us by the time its tremendous jet boom sound caught up and nearly flattened the crowd. Truly eerie to see a plan go by so fast and so silently -- at first. "Outrunning its sound" is how they described it. Not bad for a Navy plane.
Busy morning tomorrow, Dave has an 8am meeting, we have cleaners coming, and I have a ton of work to do. We talked to the boys sternly tonight: NO TOYS in the morning AT ALL. Get up and get dressed and go downstairs. NO TOYS. I hate saying that, but our labor starts tomorrow, the day after Labor Day.
I've been looking into some sort of backyard play structure to give the kids a consistent thing to do outside. At first I looked at Craigslist and Costco, but our funky-shaped yard really needs something made to fit into it. I've been to Kiddie World and Rainbow Play Structures, and both have things that would work for us, though I've really been hesitating about the price and about taking over the entire backyard.
Today we all went to Rainbow play structures so that Dave could see (I'd been there myself), and to bring the kids too. It's often instructive to see what the kids are attracted to, though it doesn't say much about what they'll like playing with later.
This is what the kids most of the time we were talking to the salesguy about play structures.
So we asked about the trampolines, and the more we talked about it, the more we both like the idea. Trampolines can be moved -- not easily, it'd take two people, but they can be moved. And removed more easily than a play structure. Modern trampolines don't have those springs that cause most trampoline injuries. This one is permeable, so water and sunlight get through, so any lawn underneath has some prayer of survival (a minor concern really). You can get accessories like a foam snowboard to practice flips (!) and a basketball hoop. The guy said kids even have outdoor sleepovers on trampolines, they make a good sleeping surface. A trampoline might have more longevity -- Gabriel will outgrow swings in a few years, but even teenagers like trampolines. Swings and slides can be found at all playgrounds, including at school, but trampolines aren't.
So now we're thinking about a trampoline instead of a play structure. It's uglier and seems more special-purpose, but kids flock to them when given the choice over a play structure. Hmm.
As always, leaving the party (it was just an indoor showroom after all, not a playground) is challenging. Katrina was outraged.
I'm happy to say these tantrums are far less frequent now, and usually less intense too.
A very very lazy day for us, other than our play structure shopping, and a short swim for me this morning. I'm still not feeling great, which was our primary reason for not doing today what we will do tomorrow: The Watsonville Fly-In and Airshow!
Our sons are really getting out of control. Rudeness and resistance and not-listening (modern-speak for "disobeying"). It's becoming unbearable. Dave picked them up at the CDC today and found them each sitting alone at a separate table, with the rest of the kids in a group playing together, both on timeout.
Getting them to get ready in the morning is a painful exercise in irritation, being ignored, and them screaming and shouting when any consequence is carried out. Gabriel raises his fist and Julian throws himself in the floor in a dramatic display of how put upon he is. Then it starts all over again when they get home from school and have to put their lunches and knapsacks away.
I do love having two boys, but this week the one girl has been far, far more rewarding. In fact Katrina has been delightful and pleasant and charming -- as she always is, but without the tantrums masking it.
I was home sick today, but ended up working harder than I ever do at work, because of the lack of interruption. Until our noisy obnoxious boys got home that is. Now I know where the boarding school concept came from!
Our elementary school had a back-to-school night tonight. This means all 3 kids went to the CDC (for a special after-hours care for the occasion), while Dave went to Gabriel's 3rd-grade classroom and I went to Julian's 1st-grade classroom.
I like Julian's new teacher, and I think I'm going to like first grade better this time around. Mostly because we're used to it now, but I also like the emphasis the teacher places on writing. The kids write in a journal every day for 20 minutes, and later in the school year they'll each read from their journal. That's the "show and tell." Parents' questions were about what the math curriculum is, and what they'll learn in the tech lab -- this is Silicon Valley of course -- but overall I've always been impressed that the teachers don't really cave to that.
And this first grade has a weekly homework packet, instead of every day. YAY. That will definitely simplify life. In 3rd grade, if the kids don't turn in their homework, they miss recess to work on it. Double YAY. Some actual real consequences and reasons for the kids to make choices themselves.
Julian's teacher told me he's having some trouble with writing with his cast, but she found as I did that most of the trouble is with his complaining and not really trying. This makes it hard to see what his actual limitations are, but I think we'll get past this soon. It seems this injured wrist incident has kicked off a hypochondriac phase.
Gabriel's teacher told me that he's having trouble staying awake in class?! Low energy -- she's been making sure he eats something at snacktime, and he dozes off during math time. Low energy, Gabriel? I assured her we get him to bed on time (we aim for lights-off at 8pm, it's usually later but not much), but he gets up really early. Very strange, he doesn't act sleepy at all at home on weekends.
Julian got his cast today, but that wasn't the biggest event.
This morning, he tripped and fell on his way into the CDC, and bonked his head good. So he started off the day with a massive goose egg on his forehead. This kid is by far the most accident-prone of the three.
Then Dave and I both got calls from the school around 9:30. Julian was complaining about his head and a lump in his throat, and got himself sent to the office. I was in the world's most annoying and consuming meeting at the time and didn't get the message, but Dave did.
Dave went to the school with skepticism, knowing that a head-bonk doesn't mean he has to leave class. When he arrived to pick up Julian, Dave told Julian he'd take him right to the doctor. "Wait, Dad!" Julian tugged on him, then motioned to whisper in his ear, "I forgot to put on underpants today!"
So that was the reason!!
Dave had to bring him home and check him out though, and I suggested he try to get the cast done today too. But Julian was just fine, wanting to work on science experiments and drinking without any problem (despite his supposedly lumpy throat), and after some time Dave said "this is silly" and brought Julian back to school.
Dave's efforts in making an appointment with the orthopedist paid off though, and they got a 3:00 appointment for a proper cast. We asked for a waterproof cast, which is one that can get wet and that itches can be addressed by pouring water down the cast. It comes in colors, but when "gold" wasn't available, Julian opted for white.
Buckle fractures, I've learned from some basic Googling, are very common in children and relatively minor. They happen because children's bones are softer, and it's really just a compression of the bone, with no angulation -- that is, not a real break. A large percentage of kids' fractures occur in the forearm, and a large percentage of those occur in the wrist, and are simple buckle fractures.
This makes me very, very glad we saw a pediatrician, who said that many doctors miss these fractures because the usual symptoms aren't present in buckle fractures. She recognized it right away, minutes after the nurse who weighed Julian (44 lbs) commented that it probably wasn't a fracture because of the normal way he swung his arm as he walked. Buckle fractures heal more quickly than other fractures too.
They're so minor and common that there's even controversy about whether or not they need a real cast. A splint could probably address it, but kids tend to remove splints if they're removable. Other than the cast removal, casts are actually very convenient and easy to live with.
It was a struggle getting him to finish some of his schoolwork tonight; he was fussing and complaining about not being able to write, but he wasn't trying. I wanted to see what his real impediments were, and if we could address them somehow (e.g. a pillow to elevate his elbow). As soon as he really tried, it was clear that he can learn how to write if he practices. In a few days, he won't even notice he has the cast. Until he figures out what a great built-in weapon it is, that is.
No photos today; it was a very very hectic afternoon and day. Not as hectic as this morning, which was apparently so hectic that even underwear as forgotten!
Some days I wish I were juuust sick enough to stay home, but not sick enough to be bedridden and not get anything done. So much piles up on me during the week that can only get done during the day that I just need a day to get them done.
Thanks to Julian, I got that day today. Or half of it.
I spent the morning watching him carefully and holding my hands behind my back, making him do everything for himself with his left hand, with some help from his fingers on his right hand. It's hard not to help him, but it was important to see how he can maneuver and adapt to the impairment of his dominant hand. Overall he can function quite well, and he's really game about it too, no whining or complaining. The only thing he couldn't do is snap his pants, so I gave him some sweatpant-cutoff-shorts to wear.
I took the boys to school and talked to the CDC first. Partly about his arm, but also about bills, a camp day coming up, back-to-school night, homework club. Whew. Dropped our PTA donation off at the school office, which is always closed when I'm at school.
Then I went to wait with Julian in front of his class to talk to his teacher, and had to shoo Gabriel away. Unfortunately, their classes are right in sight of each other and the temptation to pester each other before class is powerful. I did catch Julian's teacher and chatted with her briefly about his new handicap. She thanked me for letting her know and said if he really can't write, then she'd let him dictate to her. He can sort of write, but it's not easy. Erasing is impossible.
Next, deposit a check in the bank (the old-fashioned way). Trip to Target to buy sweatpants for Julian (and Gabriel while I was there). Home to make a zillion phone calls: 3 doctor's appointments for me, another doctor for a prescription refill, reschedule our cleaners from Labor Day, call Julian's pediatrician, call two financial institutions with questions, send email to our landscaper about a few dead plants, compose and send an inquiry about a weekend nanny, answer a few lingering emails about parties, check availability for gymnastics parties.
Yay! A tiny bit of catching up! This never happens! Personal phone calls at work have to happen on my crackly cell phone in my car, when I don't have access to a computer, and it's a serious pain. I don't send much email from work; I don't have time, I don't have all the information I need that's at home. And, it's unseemly for my boss's boss to walk in my cube and catch me not working.
All I missed at work today was a long boring all-hands meeting. An important enough meeting that the company reserved a conference room at the Embassy Suites, and my poor beleaguered manager had to call everyone in my group on their cell phones to make sure they attended (handily, I don't carry a cell phone). In general, engineers love all-hands meetings; it means it's quiet in the office and you get concentrated work done as everyone else fidgets and yawns while the execs ramble on. But no less dull for its import.
And I had a GREAT reason to miss it -- I had to take care of my son with the fractured wrist. If a few extra errands sneak in there too, so much the better. If I get months' worth of errands done in one morning, REALLY better!
This morning, the boys got up early and were engaged in these unusually innocent shenanigans: some sort of combination of song and rapping. Julian's hard to hear, but actually he's pretty good at making up rhymes! (His grin and the rhyme "late pass" give a good clue as to what non-kid-word he was rhyming with.)
They were up doing this together for at least half an hour before I reluctantly had to put the kibosh on it. Time to get dressed for school, dudes.
Today when I picked the boys up from the CDC, they ran outside and Julian tripped over a curb and fell. A perfectly normal fall, benign, landed soft...but boy did he make a fuss over his arm. The same one that he'd fallen on on Saturday, and that he'd been complaining about on and off. The same one that in the video above, he's using to handle Legos and moves around quite naturally and normally.
It's been over 48 hours since the fall, and the intensity of his complaint made it clear it needed to be seen. I called Dave and said "Plan change!"
Dave came home early and took Katrina to her last (yay) swim lesson while I took Julian to an Urgent Care center, one that actually has a pediatric unit and is open late. We had to wait a while, but the nice young doctor poked his arm a little and observed how he responded. "Might be a buckle fracture," she said right away, and explained that many kids can still use their arms pretty well but it's very sensitive in one place. She called for an X-ray.
Sure enough -- buckle fracture on the ulna and radius (two places), in his right wrist.
Not serious, but it is a fracture, it is very sensitive and needs to be casted. He got a temporary splint tonight, and will see an orthopedic hand doctor in a few days for a real cast.
In the same month, Julian's broken our no-emergency record twice with stitches and a cast. One happened on August 03 and the other on August 30 (somehow he managed to escape Friday the 13th). Can we make it to September without another injury please?
Another strange day for me. I was wired from not sleeping well, and the kids woke us up early -- so I went out running! Despite being way overtired and having a bad headache, I had one of the best runs I've had in many weeks. Nervous energy I guess. I crashed hard later though.
It seems it's so hard for us to catch up on things that need to be done around here -- we still have moving boxes in the garage that haven't been unpacked! But today my goal was to go through the landscaping -- trimming trees, cutting out dead flowers, pulling weeds. I'd asked Dave to get a lawn cart to make this job easier, and what he found borders on a toy. Perfect to attract a helper!
I gave Katrina her own pair of gloves, and she made wonderful company. She pulled the cart for me and put clippings in the cart. Later she found her own rake and helped me pick up mimosa flowers from the sidewalk. She was great company, chatting happily and just seeming so happy to be outside and doing the simplest thing together. And I was very very happy to have her with me.
She's been really easy lately. When she sheds the black cloak of the the tantrum, a charming delightful funny little girl is found within. She's overall so much more cooperative than her brothers, and lives for more than killing each other as they do. Her joy and enthusiasm for just being outside, taking delight in every new discovery, is infectious.
And for me, having the happy company of a child turns a borderline chore into a fun and rewarding afternoon outside.
