It is Time

I'm sitting on the couch, next to the husband, twiddling my wedding ring around my finger with my tongue, considering my life.

I'm considering my boys--their quirks and their charms: Jdog laughing out loud right on cue whenever the husband stares at him and laughs; Atrain teaching me about the sacrament today, "we remember how Jesus brings us to choose eternal life," he said (possibly connecting discussions about the scripture he will recite this Sunday (2 Ne 2:27) and our conversation about the sacrament).

The husband is agonizing over his choice between his Ohio and San Diego residency program interviews, drowning his sorrows in the latest season of "Arrested Development."

I'm thinking about the gift my sister in law Hilly gave me for Christmas--"A Year in the Puddle," printed out and bound with her love and blood. It was a book.  And, I had written it.

And, I'm giggling as I recall my recent unplanned, serendipitous sleep over with Bambi.  We crafted deep into the night and then fell asleep by each other on the couch.  She asked me about my book--not the puddle book--the one I've been building for a couple of years now.  As I told her, that familiar flame of excited fear began to burn in my belly.  I felt the same flicker when the weight of the printed "Year in the Puddle" paper sat in my hands.

It is a flame I have been flirting with for a while--the kind I whisk my fingers through, daring it to burn me, strangely hoping that it does--just a little.  I've been afraid of it, knowing that keeping my family's fire alive and well is my first priority and greatest joy.  Hence, "The Puddle Project," a way to combine my feverish desire to record, to create and to practice stories on a page, while keeping my mind settled in my home (as it always will be).  It was only designed to be a year-long project...a place to splash and plan and prepare.  It is a good feeling--every purpose has been fulfilled except that last, little leap forward into the unknown.

I've been fighting it.  As the year turned, I felt that it was time--but it is so difficult to say goodbye to something that has been so good for me.  It helped me grow into a mother of two.  It made me shift my attitude, broaden my perspective, and set my sights on the mother I want to become.  But, when Bambie asked me, "Are you hiding behind The Puddle?" it was as if we were back in junior high and she was throwing back the shower curtain exclaiming, "It's time to go!"  She didn't tell me what to do.  Good sisters never need to.

So, it is with a scared, yet inspired heart that I bid adieu to my safe, warm, predictable puddle to adventure into other oceans of authorship.  I'll try not to take myself too seriously.  I'm excited to attempt to replace my daily puddle writing time with book writing time.  My mother muddling will continue faithfully on my revamped family blog (if you need an invitation, please let me know).  My home and family will always be the best fire burning in my life.  It has been an incredible journey.  Thank you for puddling with me.

xoxo--MJ

The Entitlement Problem/The Ownership Solution

I'm reading a book written by the parents of an old boyfriend of mine.  The husband will cringe at my mentioning of the old boyfriend.  He dry heaves at the thought that I would have actually liked any other guy.  As he should.  (What he doesn't mention is that he was sincerely confused by my dating of this RM while he was simultaneously smacking lips with an adorable freshman gal.  We rehearse the irony of our past a fair amount.  It still makes me growl).

Anyhow, welcome to "The Entitlement Trap" by Richard and Linda Eyre.  What amazing people.  What an awesome family.  I'm excited to learn more from them.  Here are things from the first chapter of this book that I  will add to my parenting quiver:

Chapter 1: The Entitlement Problem

• "In the name of LOVE, we give our kids: indulgence rather than consequences; instant rather than delayed gratification; lazness rather than discipline; dependence rather than independence; and entitlement rather than responsibility. We are trying to control our kids, rather than giving them control.  
• It is easy to give my kids what they want.  Much, much easier than teaching them what the need.  And, my job is (mostly) to teach them what the need and give them a few surprises along the way.
• "Entitlement stymies their chances to develop self-esteem and self-reliance and self-discipline and all the other "selves" that can't find traction in a world where everything is demanded and expected and nothing is earned and appreciated."
• "The far-reaching nature of the (entitlement) problem is not only about allowances and money and cell phones and "stuff."  Its tentacles reach into virtually every aspect of our children's lives.  It affects their education, because they feel they should not have to work for their grades...it impacts their relationships, because they think parents should step in and work out their fights or conflicts with other kids...their health...their ability to set goals, because when one is entitled, who needs goals.

Chapter 2: The Ownership Solution

• "As parents, we must find reliable methods to get our children to feel the kind of ownership--of toys, of money, of goals, of grades, of choices, of their bodies, of their conflicts--that will foster responsibility and displace indulgence-based entitlement...the ownership we are speaking of is chosen, earned ownership, something a child decides on and works for and takes pride in."
• "If the perception of ownership can be given to children, a sense of responsibility will follow, and a sense of pride, and a sense of purpose."
• "As a person earns, obtains, and takes care of something that belongs to him, he develops self-esteem, self-discipline, self confidence, self-motivation, happiness and good judgment."
• "WHEN is the prime time for teaching the skills of ownership-based responsibility?  Not when they are preschoolers and incapable of really grasping or accepting responsiblity...and not when they are teens and the consequences of their mistakes are too great, but when they are elementary-and middle-school-age kids who are flattered by responsiblity and who still think their parents are worth listening to...still the very best answer to the question"when?" is "Always."
• "When kids have real input and responsibility in family matters, they begin to feel like co-owners rather than tenants or servants in our homes, or pawns on our grown-up chessboard."

Great, motivating things to think about.  "It is best to start early, but it's never too late."  (Phew.  I'm not too late. :)  I guess it can never be too early to start building a solid foundation for my kids.  It empowers me to read their thoughts.  Can't wait for the next few chapters.  

Broken things to Mend

"Can I borrow your shoes?"  I ask the husband.

"All I have are my flip flops." He says.

"It's better than running in my heels," I say.

I hop out of our broken down car and start jogging toward our apartment building.  The click-clack echo of my over sized flip flops is embarrassing.  I hope no one really pays attention to me.  But, I know that's unlikely--seeing that I'm running as fast as I possibly can, shoving my Sunday skirt back down, fighting the winter breeze's cruel game of "peek a boo."

I hope I can find someone to tow my broken car the rest of the way up the hill to our parking lot.  I hope the husband's broken car will make it to the boys and back without blowing out the other shock's hashed fix-it job done in Texas.  I hope my key will let me into the building.  I hope Jdog won't be too flustered by this sudden frantic burst to go back to sleep.  He can't endure another sleepless night.

My key card opens the door.  I go strait up the stairs to my sweet friend and supervisor, Darleen's apartment.  It doesn't look like the lights are on.  I feel guilty even before I knock on the door.  But, I think about my stranded boys and I tap my knuckles to the wood.  Her dogs bark.  "SSShhhh" she says.  I want to apologize before she even opens up.  I take a deep breath.

The door swings open.  Her sweet face greets me.  I try to smile as I explain, "So sorry to bother you so late, but...can your husband's truck tow our car up the hill?"  Her kind eyes widen.  I tell her the rest of our sudden, tragic mishap and my eyes tear up.  "Not a problem." She says.  "Don't apologize," she repeats.  I say sorry again, but thank her for her kindness.

I race down the stairs to my apartment, trying to wipe the tears from my face.  I wonder how much it will be to fix the darn machines.  Then I pause.  Whatever it cost, it's not as much as it could have been.  We were protected.  Our car could have stopped in the middle of the construction zone on the freeway.  It could have stopped somewhere in the city running errands while the husband was gone.  It could have stopped in the middle of a busy intersection tomorrow on my outing with the boys.  I could have.

But, it didn't.  It stopped two blocks from our home, where my angel neighbors were able to pull it the rest of the way to the parking lot.  It could have been all sorts of bad.  But, it wasn't.  Even if it had been bad, it wouldn't change how grateful I am that God is aware of my little family.

Movie Night

Atrain LOVES Cars.  I'm sure he would trade in his limbs for wheels any day.  He collects them, he pretends with them, he evaluates their "coolness" regularly, he earns them, he shares them (sometimes), copies their movie lines, "What are YOU doin' here!" is the latest, and he has requested another Cars birthday party.  This will be the third year in a row: three out of four years of life.  That is a lot of car love.  Good thing Cars 2 came out recently.  It gives me a little more creative fuel for planning.  I bet you can't guess what we're watching for Movie Night tonight.

Strong Words

Sometimes Atrain says, "I can't."  I'm sure this is completely normal. It's usually an excuse--a lame reason to get me to help him put his shoes on.  I would be lying if I said this lame excuse didn't occasionally work.  But, after asking so many times and becoming exhausted trying to logically convince him "of course you can!" the need to speed up the exiting process kicks in, and I cave.  I hate that.

This morning I had a burst of inspiration.  Atrain asked for a refill on his cup of water.  I don't mind getting up to get him a cup of water.  It's not a big deal.  But, I'm trying to stretch his self reliance, confidence and ownership over his own life solutions.  Yes, it's just a cup of water, and in the short run it might not matter, but in the long run, if I want to raise confident, self reliant boys, it takes baby steps--one cup of water at a time. (Do I take my job too seriously?)

I responded, "You're such a big boy, you can do it yourself!"

He said, "I can't."

And then the lightning bolt struck me.  "What a tired, sad word!" I said.  "I can't," I repeated with a low, slow voice."  I like to use strong, powerful words, like "I can!"

"Powerful words?" He said, with a raised eyebrow, considering this untapped resource.  You see, Atrain likes to be strong.  He enjoys power.  I don't blame him.  He responds well to other kung-fu phrases we use like, "the one who has power is the one who is in control."  (I thank his preschool for that one).

"Yes, strong, powerful words! I CAN!"  I said as I flexed my meager muscles.  "It give me energy and strength to say I CAN!"

Atrain laughed.  "I CAN!" He repeated with enthusiasm and a smile.  He loved it.

"I can't" I said, with the lame lazy lilt in my voice, "So tired, so sad.  But when I say, I CAN! I feel so good, so strong!"

I realized as we had this conversation that we were really talking about believing in yourself, about boosting your own confidence, about evading self doubt. Sure, it may not have registered that way to Atrain, but he did feel the power and potential of 'strong words.' I think i have a new phrase.

The Game

While playing the game of motherhood, there are occasions when I feel like I know exactly what the rules are.  I have a firm grasp on the momentum at play and I feel like I have the home field advantage.

And then, all of the sudden I'm sacked.  And, I fumble.  And, Atrain runs away to his end zone with the football--celebrating with all sorts of neanderthal postures.  And, I'm doing my best to avoid a personal foul.

That was today.  I had an adventurous streak and strolled the boys down to the trax station, excited to give us a little more "urban" exposure than we are used to.  It was great--a relatively flawless trip (if you don't count the homeless dude who hit on me) to the grocery store via the train.  And, then we got home.  

Atrain's defensive devils were unleashed.  He resolutely disagreed with every play I put on the table.  "No!" He'd say, as he pushed the line of scrimage back into my territory. 

I tried to stick my ground.  I tried to keep my cool.  But, none of my receivers had their game on.  #29 Patience was tired.  #45 Endure was pooped out.  And #1 Love couldn't complete her routes.  

So, there I was, wondering how to get the ball back, when all of the sudden Atrain asked, "Can I sit on your lap?"  He handed over the ball, and the game changed.

We sat together, reading scriptures with him on my lap, and then he turned around.  We played the "smoosh face" game--one where there isn't any real defense or offence.  It felt wonderful.  

"I love you," I said.  "I love you too...will you please get me some grunilla and water?" he replied.  Music to my ears.

A Sign for Hug

I know there is a proper way to "sign" hug in ASL.  But, Jdog has come up with his own method--all on his own:

He tilts his head to the right as far as he can, and then raises his right shoulder until cheek meets clavical bone.  Somtimes, in the process he becomes slightly off balance, but eventually he meets his goal.  And when he does he smiles.

Jdog does this while walking toward you.  And, I promise, when you see it, it will turn your heart into a big puddle of mush.

Today he even brought me his "lala" (Elmo) toy, and instructed me to hug it.  He carried it my way with outstretched arms, exclaiming, "lala! Lala!"  I took his beloved red monster and then Jdog began to tilt.  He tilted his head until I started to tilt too.  And when I did, I finally got them message, and brought elmo up to my cheek and hugged.  J smiled and waddled slowly away.

How did I ever live before I knew to sign hug?

Missing You

The husband has been touring the country doing interviews for nearly a week now.  We miss him so much, though I do need to tell him more.

Instead, I tell him how much I am getting done.  And, I say it excitedly, like, "I'm doing great!  I actually scrubbed the bathroom, did the dishes and packed a few boxes today while listening to conversations on the Mormon Channel!"

Checking these things off my "to do" list is exciting, but not nearly as exciting as having the man I love next to me.  Not even close.

He makes my heart flutter with joy and anticipation, and hope: hope for all that we have to come together, for the comfort and calm I feel when we are together, and for the family we are building.

Yes, I miss him.  So much that when he's gone I put myself into high gear bleaching the urine stains off the base of the toilet when he is away.  And I stay up until two in the morning most nights writing up a storm, trying to forget I am alone(ish).  And I fool myself into enjoying it.  I am definitely a much better person when he is here.

We miss you, shmub.

Highs and Lows

Amazing how one day can have so many highs and lows:

High: Talking with the husband on the phone about our future.

Low: Spilling the canister of cocoa powder while making breakfast.

High: Atrain finding his prized toy car after we said a prayer for help.

Low: Me mishandling an innocent, yet very inappropriate Atrain play moment.

High: Testimony meeting at Church.

Low: Poor inconsolable Jdog who preferred to roll around in a tired mess of teething anguish in the hall at church rather than snuggle up to me and sleep in my arms.  Poor, sweet Jdog.

High: Reading a bit of Lucy Mack Smith's history with my dad.

Low: The migraine headache spawned from my irresponsible and oh so awesome lack of sleep lately.

High: The three pills my mom gave me that zapped it before it zapped me.

Low: Ignoring the awesome mess in my home and procrastinating clean up.

High: Going to bed before 2am.  Good night.

Confidence and Cochlears

I think about Atrain's cochlear implants every day.  I think about what a miracle they are.  I think about what a miraculous adjustment my son has made so early in his life.  I think about the challenges seen and unforeseen in his future.  And I think about how well God knows Atrain.  He knows his hearing loss is a challenge Atrain can conquer for the rest of his life.  So do I.  I know it with all my heart.

Atrain and I have a lot of special moments he lets me into his cochlear world.  I feel privileged to be his mother.  Just this week he said to me, "MOM!  The O'falafel restaurant is really loud, but my super ears can get quieter sometimes.  Sometimes super ears can hear far away and sometimes they can get really quiet."  There is actually a program on the cochlears that suppresses excess noise.  I wonder if this is what he's experiencing.

And, during a completely separate conversation he said, "Guess what...my super ears can hear a cougar on the mountain!"  I said, "Really?  I can't hear a cougar on the mountain."  He replied, "I know.  It's just because I have super ears."

I'm pretty sure it's ok and hopefully even healthy that I encourage these conversations.  Atrain has a lot of years ahead of him and a lot of challenging cochlear issues to come.  He also has a lot of gifts to prepare him for whatever lies ahead.  He's creative--solves problems with mad negotiating skills and can pretend up a storm.  He's determined--if his mind is set on something he will bravely pursue whatever that goal may be.  He has a tender heart--so tender.  I worry about it being crushed by ignorant, insensitive individuals.  But, I also know that Atrain's sensitivity will serve him well in the long run.  He will understand things with a unique perspective and develop a strong soul.  And he has a family that loves him immensely.

I hope, more than anything, that I can help him (and all my children) know how much God loves him.  That knowledge brings a calm confidence that anchors through any storm.

Parenting Puddle

Mothering is my job, and I believe it is the most important job there is.  It is also an extremely difficult one, and I need a lot of training.  Christ is, of course, my master teacher and having His spirit with me, and a testimony of His divinity and His gospel is an invaluable resource to my role as a mother.  Doing the little things to strengthen my knowledge and faith in God and making mothering decisions therein is the best training available to me.

That said, I can use all the help I can get.  And, there are many inspired individuals out there who have studied parenting and articulated awesome techniques that will help me translate my mothering desires into valuable routines and practical parenting techniques.

Therefore, I propose a study program.  The items I bought to stuff my Christmas stocking have arrived from various thrift book stores around the country.  And, I am excited--especially about reporting on what I read.  (If you haven't noticed yet, writing helps me process information...about life, about what I'm learning, and about becoming).

So, at least once a week I will do a "Parenting Puddle" post.  I will review any number of chapters from a parenting book and report on what I learned--the things I want to incorporate into my mothering routines and the thoughts I have about the direction of my family.  It will be a wonderful puddle to splash in.  I can't wait to get wet.

To Me

Self Advice from the fifth day of January:

• Always fold the corners of pages in books we read--library books are no exception.  From the mouth of Atrain, who was taught by Uncle Esteban today, "It is what we do." 
• Never swear during a professional presentation geared at training young(ish) RAs on how to help victims of abuse.  Especially not the F word.  Especially not six times.  Presenters who do that look like ignorant fools. 
• Keep singing the "let us gather in a circle, and kneel in family prayer" song before prayers at bedtime.  And, continue to let the husband and Atrain rest their heads on your knees while praying, even if it feels a tad bit irreverent.  Jdog is listening, and watching so much closer than you realize, and he fills in the gap left on "the husband's" knee when he is not able to make it.
• Do take small hair risks when feeling bored with your 'do.  Bangs are fun, and they can always grow back.
• Continue to listen to conversations on "The Mormon Channel" while putting the house back together at night time.  It is inspiring.  It is motivating.  It is refreshing.
• Don't forget to call your mom.
• Eat more falafels with Atrain and let Jdog wear his cougar pajamas in falafel eateries.  It strikes up amazing conversations.
• Be happy.  When Christ spoke of his impending atonement and death, he said, "These things I have spoken unto you that in me ye might have peace: in the world, ye shall have tribulation, but be of good cheer: I have overcome the world.
• Love motherhood.  Love makes life so much better.

Tucked In

I don't know why I feel so poetic when I'm all alone.  Maybe it's the quiet.  I alternate between bursts of imagination and muddling my mind with senseless information spewing from Youtube.  It is hard to be alone.  I would not want to be the husband right now.  He is in Cleveland tonight, starting out another week long interview trail in the great state of Ohio.  It is good to have interviews.  Seinfeld is keeping him company.

My babies are at Grandpatty's home for the night.  I have "spring" training for work tomorrow bright and early, so she gets to be their guardian tonight.  She is such a good one.  Nothing is as valuable as knowing that your kids are loved and cared for by someone so loving and so caring.  I miss my little family.  They are so much a part of who I am, and the reason I want to be a better me.

Good thing I have sweet memories from the day to tuck my mind in bed tonight:

waking the boys up bright and early to drop the husband off at the airport--their bed heads and morning smiles are a sight to behod;

watching Jdog and Atrain give each other the biggest--mutually agreeable--hug;

picking Atrain up from school and asking him what he talked to his friends about, only to hear him say, "It's a secret! I can't tell you!;"

seeing Atrain so excited to earn a quarter by vacuuming up the smooshed goldfish on his own;

and knowing that Jdog knew exactly what I was doing when I tried to pull off a sneaky goodbye at Grandpatty's house.

I am so lucky to be so loved.

Feeling Alive

I was born barefoot, twice.

The first time I was new: a body made of skin and blood and 10.1 ounces of chub.  I cried in astonishment, and fear, and excitement.  It was cold.  It was strange.  It was my turn to live.

The second time I knew: layers of padding protecting my soul--shed.  I felt wet sand cling to the crevices between my toes, and the sting of choral cut into my thoughts.  My legs leaped along the embedded barriers.  I laugh in astonishment, and fear, and excitement. It was real.  It was exhilarating. It was life.

And now I know, baring the barefooted babes, we plod along: I with calloused pads, leading life through every step.  I feel each pebble push into my heel.  My toes are crooked and cracked.  I rejoice in astonishment, and fear, and excitement.  It is hard.  It is hopeful.  It is living.

I will die barefoot, once.

Resolved

The honeymoon of the holidays is over and it feels simultaneously sweet and somber to be back in my own home.

The elf was still here when we walked through the door with our sleeping kiddos last night.  So was incomplete advent calendar.  We left before we had time to hang the final nativity story ornaments on our tree.  For a moment I felt as if the holidays had never happened; as if Santa would knock on our window and ask us how he should enter our tiny apartment to deposit his Christmas gifts; as if our bags were packed and ready to go over the river and through the woods...

But then, I remembered the sparkler embellished dance party on New Years' Eve; the glow of Jdog's face when he spotted his new stroller car; the intensity of Atrain's expression as he learned how to make his new razor scooter shoot sparks; the laughter and the games shared with some of my favorite people in the world; the tears that spewed from my eyes when I opened my "year in the puddle" book gift from Billy; the scenes from Christmases past and watching the husband shrink and grow before my eyes, and the feeling of having him, the husband with me.  

I can conquer the world when he's with me.  Or at least plot out my plans to do so.

Atrain came up with his own goals for the year during FHE tonight.  We decided that goals are things that you want to learn to do.  We set goals for this year.  As it turns out, Atrain wants to learn how to ride his bike without training wheels. He decided that one all on his own.  I want to learn to run in my new Vibram running shoes.  The husband wants to learn how to ride his bike more.  Jdog wants to learn how to speak.  We all want to learn to read our scriptures better.  Good things to learn.  It will be a good year.

  

Mission Statement

The husband and I have been brainstorming.  It is a fabulous thing to do with the one you love.

I thought it would be great to make a family mission statement--you know, something simple that can bolster the shared identity and pride in our little family unit.  We all can use a dose of good pride every now and then.

Here is what we came up with:

We are:
Fun
Responsible
Active
Nice
Disciplined
Smart
Eternal
Noble.

Yes, we are.  Or, at least we'll strive to be.  We chanted it at family home evening (right after sending Atrain to time out for some forgotten misdemeanor family offense).  Go team! Go 2012!  Ready or not, here we come.