Thoughts of the past few months...

Memories of the year thus far ...

As we wind down the school year, it is hard to believe the twins, LadyBug and LittleBug, are almost done with kindergarten and QueenBee is going to be a third grader. They have impressed and wowed us all year. And, of course, frustrated and infuriated us at the same time. Here are a few highlights.

Awesome skiing - all three girls surpassing mommy in skill and confidence. Truly awe-inspiring to see your child zip down a snow covered slope, knowing there is no way in hell you can catch them.

LittleBug starting violin lessons - not that I would recommend starting such an instrument at age 5, but she likes it and and seems to pick it up quickly. Recommend a very patient teacher...

Rocking out to Justin Beiber with the girls (he's not bad, you know....better lyrics than Lady Gaga, which we like too.)

A full year of school with mommy working: the highs at the lows: LittleBug taking a picture of me to her show and tell: "This is my mommy. She is a judge. And I love her." To...."mommy do we have to go to day care?" "Do you have to work ALL summer/break/the time?" Sigh....

The beginning of many "That's not fair..." from the eldest who has an acute sense of justice and a very short memory of her childhood (from 2 years ago). Everything the twins do is infinitely more fun that anything she ever got to do!

Soccer Ball to Littlebug's face: lots of blood, 2 stitches in the lip, and one very brave girl.

LadyBug's true love emerges: dollies. She now owns four "American Girl" dolls (she is a keen garage sale shopper) and I don't even know how many baby dolls. She falls in love with them....loves to be a little mommy.

Starting piano lessons for QueenBee: who knew the "OCD" in her would come out to earn the "stars" for extra practices? One morning, as I stepped out of the shower at 6:00 a.m., I heard her practicing the piano!

Roller blading at the roller rink, which has not changed since I was a kid - around and around....and around (see rocking out to Beiber above)

Coming home and/or waking up to piles of dog crap, etc. The joys of owning an old dog with a delicate palate and a young dog who eats everything.

The six year old style tantrum: arms crossed, mouth in a hard pout, a firm "no" from LadyBug - that will last forever. Or from LittleBug, the wide "hurt" eyes, running out of the room, silent tears while sucking her thumb.

QueenBee's ode to our deceased pet fish (who, prior to becoming a pet, was food for the snake...so really, he had it good): "My Dead Fish Ted" My fish Ted is dead, No it can't be!!! A special fish. He'd follow my finger, tapped the tank. Ted had a plant in the tank. A nice fish, a friend of mine!"

Playdates, dinners with friends and family, yoga for mommy and daddy - here is to all that keeps us sane!

To sleep, perchance to dream....

So I have a question for anyone out there - does anyone remember having insomnia as a child? If so, what did you (or your parents) do?

Here's the back story. LittleBug has been our consistent wake-us-up-at-night girl. We have tried being sweet and comforting, being mean and stern, giving Tylenol or Motrin, getting her a night light that doesn't bother her sisters, putting piles of books next to her bed, giving a new toy if she doesn't get up 10 days in a row.... You get the picture.

Well, it's started again and now that she is six, I'm balking at rewarding her for something that she should be doing. Her sisters certainly aren't getting rewards for sleeping all night. Not that life is fair, but really?

So my husband and I are talking on our "date night" about what we can do about our little night visitor. My first idea of buying scary masks and putting them on before we go to sleep was good for a long laugh, but ultimately a horribly cruel idea. I mean, can you imagine?! That would even be too bad for WorldsWorstMoms.com!

Then we both say, wait a second - maybe the question isn't what she should do when she wakes up, but WHY is she waking up? (ok, perhaps a "duh" moment - but you know, we don't do our best thinking in the middle of the night!) No one else wakes up at night. And even if LittleBug doesn't get us up, she wakes up - EVERY NIGHT. Every night her light is on, books are all over. When she does come to get us, she usually says, "I'm bored and I can't sleep." Oh my gosh - does she have insomnia? Is that possible?

So right there at dinner, we google (thank you iPhone) insomnia in children. Thanks to the wonders of the internet, we have now come up with anxiety, depression, or some random pain. Great. Everything says if the child wakes up more than 3 times per week, she should go to the doctor. Um....try every night for the past how many years? Kind of feel like an idiot now!

So, I don't usually ask for feedback, but if anyone has any ideas, I'd love to hear them! We will be up all night trying to psychoanalyze our child...

Dream Coming True

As parents, we often worry about how our children will be affected by learning about bad things. It begins with the decision of when to explain about "stranger danger." As children grow older, they, of course, hear things on the news and ask about them. NPR in the car is replaced with the Wiggles, not just to entertain, but to protect. But as much as we would like to shelter our children, the reality is that they must learn, take in the new, process it, and apply it to their world.

During the Inauguration last year, my three girls kept asking, "Mommy, why are you crying?" Of course, I could explain these were happy tears, but to explain the enormity of our nation's first black president would be to explain the decades of injustice and evil done by some of our own countrymen. Besides, to the girls, Obama just was - he wasn't black or brown or whatever. They loved him because Mommy and Daddy said he would do good things to help people, and because he had two little girls.

So now, Queen Bee is in second grade. Late one night, when emptying her backpack, I found her weekly reader. This week it was on Martin Luther King, Jr., his life and the challenges that the nation was facing at that time. It was, in fact, a very thorough summary of slavery, "whites only" signs, Rosa Parks, burning buses, and protesting students. All things that I hadn't talked to her about, not wanting to scare her. But here we are.

The next morning in the car, I mention that I had read her reader - it had some pretty bad and scary things, didn't it? She agreed and started to talk about MLK. Her sisters, who, of course, have had none of this exposure yet, chime in, wanting to know what we are talking about. So I launch into a slightly glossed over version: that in the past (not wanting to go in the present just yet), people thought if your skin was a different color, you weren't as good or didn't have as many rights. "Civil Rights," says QueenBee, "I learned that!" Then we talked about MLK and that he was shot. "Why?" "Because some people don't like change, didn't believe what he was saying, and were scared.

I told the girls about his most famous speech, that he spoke about a dream he had that children of all colors could play together and that black children and white children would be -- QueenBee interrupted, "would be judged not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character." Yes, that is right child - that is exactly what he said.

The rest of the way to school, with a few tears on my cheeks, I felt proud. Not just that QueenBee had clearly been moved by this amazing speech - so much so that she memorized part of it. But proud of our country. As hard as things are right now, MLK's dream is there. Child by child, it is coming true.

Tears on Christmas

"Don't you remember, mom, I had a bad Christmas?" Said LittleBug

As an only child with 3 girls, I often ruminate on the sibling experience. What fascinates me is how siblings, even twins, growing up in the same family, same parents, vacations, schools, etc., can have wildly different memories and feelings about experiences in their childhoods. This can occur even when parents try to keep things even or fair.

And then you can just blatantly give your children different experiences to really rock their world, right? Here is the back story:

My husband and I spent a lot of time thinking about what Santa should bring the girls. Well, to be fair, we spent a lot of time thinking about what Santa should bring LittleBug. LadyBug very clearly stated that she wanted another dolly, even though she had dollies, because she loved dollies. QueenBee just kept repeating, more books, more books, more books. LittleBug didn't ever say what she wanted. She would pick out things here and there, in catalogues or at a store, but nothing seemed to stick. We didn't want to just buy her some crap toy that never gets played with. Then we had it - knee-high dark brown leather boots! Nice boots (nicer than mine, to be honest) that she could wear every day. This is our child whose favorite colors are black, brown and purple. Pink is just not her thing.

So we are all set - spent the same amount of $ on each. Fast forward to Christmas Eve. We open all the presents from relatives and friends on Christmas Eve. Take about toy-poluzza! Fun, fun, fun! Later, after the girls are sleeping, we get out the Santa present. As we look at the gifts: a box of 8 books, a new doll with a wardrobe & clothes, and the brown boots, I made the crack - so, which child do we love the most? Even though the gifts all cost the same, the brown boots were not looking so keen next to the wardrobe and doll. Hmmm.....and now I realize something else. As much as she will love the boots, you can't play with them. Hmmm.....

So Christmas morning, there is lots of excitement and fun with the stockings and then it is time to open Santa's presents. QueenBee is totally content with her books. LadyBug is over the moon with her doll and clothes, etc. And LittleBug, who clearly likes the boots, starts looking around, "Is there more?" Not in a snotty, I want more toys way, but in a genuinely puzzled way. Oh dear...

Then it is time for presents from each other. And I start to realize that there are no toys from us - I tend to buy clothes or other things since they get toys on Christmas Eve and from...um...Santa. Oops.

Seeming to sense LittleBug's mood, her sisters say, "Open the present from us!" She does, and to her delight it is a toy - a cute remote control doggy! That doesn't work. I kid you not, 4 adults and many batteries later, we pronounced it DOA. LittleBug doesn't whine or throw a fit, but she sits there, sucking her thumb, holding blankie, with big tears rolling down her cheeks. Heartbreaking.

So, the next day Daddy took her with her Christmas money to the toy store where, after getting a dog that works, she managed to get some things to play with. And seemed happy. Until when tucking her in and commenting about our nice Christmas weekend, she said, "Don't you remember Mom, I had a bad Christmas?"

P.S. She has worn the new boots everyday.

Can you say Therapy Fund?

This week I'm over at www.WorldsWorstMoms.com - unfiltered!

Finding Jesus

So for whatever reason, about 3 years ago, my girls really latched onto Baby Jesus. I say "for whatever reason" because we are not religious, don't have a lot of friends that go to church, and generally don't sit around discussing Jesus. What we do have, however, are beautifully illustrated Christmas story books about the Christmas story, the baby donkey, the bright star, and of course the baby in the manger.

So, about 3 years ago, one of our baby dolls was renamed "Baby Jesus." Yes, he is in a pink dress and likes to suck on a binky, but never mind that. I remember hearing the girls playing and thought, well, that's cute but I hope we don't offend anyone. But, as I said in the first paragraph, it is highly unlikely since we wouldn't necessarily be bumping into anyone to offend. And it is all so cute and innocent. They love the story - the poor mom and dad, the donkey, cute baby...what is not to love?

It has led to some funny moments for the adults: The girls fighting over Jesus (well, the entire world does, so why not my 3 girls?) Asking my dad to be Baby Jesus's father (well, I guess you are now God, Granddad!) Baby Jesus dressed up in a tutu with butterfly wings (hmmmm....)

Well, I guess I didn't know that Baby Jesus had gone missing. Apparently he had accompanied them to my parents' house a while back. (I generally don't let the girls bring him out of the house - the last thing I need is the girls fighting over Jesus in the middle of Target). Well, last week when they got back from my parents' house, guess what was the first thing I heard? You guessed it: "Mommy, we found Jesus!"

"Mom, what's a poker face?"

The girls and I have so much fun dancing around the kitchen and family room. We are generally silly, dramatic and crazy, all at once. Of course, a lot of the best dance songs have, at best, questionable lyrics. So the question is, am I being a bad parent by exposing them to Lady Gaga?

Lady Gaga's songs are just fun to dance to and be dramatic with, but how do you explain a bad romance? And when your kindergartener walks around at home singing, "oh, oh, oh, poker face, poker face" you know she is singing that at school, too!

I've toned it down a bit by just playing the "Glee" versions (sorry Lady Gaga - didn't pay for your actual songs), but the words are still there....

I take comfort in the fact that most of my childhood, I had the wrong words to many songs and clearly didn't get a lot of them (songs from "Grease" anyone?) Anyway, what can I do, girls just want to have fun! (fun, fun, girls - now you are singing it too!