As promised, here is a picture of our Easy Canvas print that arrived today (sorry about the poor lighting - thunderstorms and only one lamp here). It turned out really well - I love this picture of our favorite family spot.
Only one day left to enter the giveaway they are hosting. Enter here and you will automatically receive a 60% off coupon and perhaps win an 8x10 canvas of your favorite picture!
I'm not really a picture person - most of the time I forget the camera, or if I bring it I forget to take pictures. The few pictures I do take pictures either end up on this blog or in some cyber folder and only get looked at about a week before Christmas in our holiday card creation frenzy. I like the idea of printing out pictures and placing them in frames around the house, or even better, in neatly organized albums, but I don't think I've printed a picture in at least 3 years...
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We had a lovely day. The girls woke up early so I was able to take them to get a surprise donut breakfast for Dave while he slept in. When we returned, we arranged the gift basket (filled with chocolate) on the table, along with the donuts and painting the girls had made for Father’s Day. Dave was happily surprised and we all enjoyed breakfast before heading out for a family hike. We chose a trail we had heard was great for kids – not too long or too difficult, with great views at the end. We brought a picnic lunch and ate it in a shelter overlooking a lake with beautiful mountain views. All three kids – especially Alexandra – enjoyed the climb. We spent the rest of the afternoon reading books and painting. Then early dinner and early kiddo bedtime. A perfect day to celebrate Father’s Day.
Doesn’t that sounds lovely? You may even be thinking, wow, they pulled that day off seamlessly! They have got it down.
Well. That is one version of our lovely Father’s Day. But I want to keep this space real, so here is that same story with reality woven in.
We had a lovely day. Alexandra woke up screaming at 5:30 am, as she does every day (we have no idea why), which in turn woke up Katherine and Clara. Last night I recklessly promised Katherine that she and I could get up early and go - just the two of us - to get donuts for a special Father’s Day breakfast. So when Katherine realized Clara was also awake and expecting to be included in the impending outing, she threw herself into a tantrum (“You said I could go alone with you, you said! That’s not fair! Clara will ruin it, she’ll fuss all the way up the hill, she can’t even walk all the way to the donut store!”) I’m pretty sure the neighbors could hear the chaos, so there is no way Dave slept through it, but luckily he opted to ignore it and stay in bed so as not to ruin our “surprise” breakfast plan. And Katherine eventually accepted my reckless consolation offer to take her on a different, even better special outing later in the day. So off we all went to get breakfast, minus the coffee, because I have not figured out how to safely carry two hot coffees while walking three small children through town.
Breakfast was nice, everyone was happy with their donuts, and afterwards we managed to pack up and get out the door for a hike in a record 45 minutes. We made it to the trailhead and set out with energy and high spirits. Our pace was a bit slow due to Alexandra insisting on walking too, but who am I to discourage a 16-month-old from hiking, besides, what was the rush? But about a mile in we realized the 3 miles was going to take a lot longer than the “hour” estimated in the trail guide, and that it was already 11am, and, oh, we had left our picnic lunch in the car for after the hike, because surely we’d be back by noon.
So I trudged on with the kids while Dave enjoyed a little trail run back to the car to get our lunch. He caught up to us just as we made it to the peak, and we enjoyed lunch with a scenic view overlooking the lake. Then it started to rain. It was kind of nice at first, we could hear it but not really feel it as we walked through the woods, but then it rained harder, and in the end we all got pretty wet. But still, our little hikers kept hiking, and there was only one quality Parenting101 moment when I *may* have thrown out an idle threat of abandonment (If you fall and twist your ankle we won't be able to carry you back to the car and we'll have no choice but to leave you here!) in an attempt to get Katherine to stop run-leaping down a steep, rocky section. The threat had no effect and Katherine did not fall and hurt herself.
We made it back to the car by 3pm. Crap! 3pm! We still had to do the grocery shopping and Katherine was expecting her special outing alone with me. I hastily made the grocery list in the car while Dave navigated through the downpour. Luckily the kids think the ultimate outing is accompanying me to the big grocery store (probably because we almost never take them), so grocery shopping doubled as our special outing.
And somehow, late in the afternoon, books were read, pictures were painted and dinner was made. All three kids asleep before 8pm.
It was a lovely day. We got up early, went for a hike, enjoyed a picnic, got the grocery shopping done. It was a very nice Father’s Day. But it was very real. We had to parent all day long.
I tend not to appreciate computer technology. My life would be complete with TextEdit and Safari, and maybe Excel (since I do love a well organized spreadsheet), but I'm married to a Mac/Techie guy, so we have computers and software and stuff that I am *encouraged* to use. It's not that I can't figure out new programs, it's more that I don't particularly enjoy it. I think it has to do with impatience. The whole purpose of technology is that it can do what you want it to do better and faster than you ever could. So when it doesn't just magically work, I get annoyed. And by annoyed I mean I whine and complain until I've worked myself into a state of total frustration, all the while cursing so-called technological "advances" (for example, "They can put a man on the moon but strikethrough on my blogging platform doesn't work! What is WRONG with this thing? WHY WON'T IT WORK??)*. I pretty much carry on until my techie steps in and solves the problem in order to stop the big noisy fuss.
But it has come up that I need to use R, which is "a free software environment for statistical computing and graphics". You have to tell it what to do using commands in R code. No drop down menus, no point and click commands, no user-friendly interface. I've never really tried it, but I'm pretty sure I do not care for programming.
Being in that ever-elusive balance between career and motherhood, R has morphed into the Green Eggs and Ham of my existence, and I have become the yellow-cat-monster guy who insists on disliking it.
But R keeps popping up all over the place, and this time my techie can't save me. So after some resistance (which, in my defense, was mostly due to time constraints) I finally gave it a try, accepting that I'd have to eat the Green Eggs and Ham.
And guess what -- I do like R! It combines logic and creativity, and if you are so inclined (and capable) you can even strive for elegance. Plus, it's not annoying like certain programs (ahem, Word) because the user tells it exactly what to do. In other words, it won't try to auto format your work against your will or (incorrectly) predict your bullet alignment preference.
What can you actually do with R, you ask? Well, you can look at your dessert intake per week and compare it to that of your husband and average Joe.
We see here that I eat more chocolate and more cake than David, but David eats far more ice cream than I do. Both Dave and I consume significantly more desserts per week than average Joe.
You can also track your enjoyment of R over time. I started out not enjoying it at all, but now enjoy it quite a bit. That dip in my enjoyment represents the day I spent trying to figure out why I couldn't get a factor command to work due to a colon where there should have been a comma.
And the formatting possibilities... error bars, point size, x and y axis labels, color... Perhaps you'd like to see the same graph, but with a pink line? Here you go!
Say, I like R. I do! I would do it anytime...
*Please excuse the first world problem
Katherine and Clara sometimes fight. (I blame their bickering on my mom because I'm pretty sure she wished fighting daughters upon me hundreds of times when I was a kid and fought constantly with my sister.) I try not to get too involved in their disputes - they seem better able to work it out if they think no parent is around. But lately they've been having a hard time with the scooter. The problem is that Katherine has a scooter, Clara doesn't, Clara wants one, Katherine doesn't want to share. Going out to ride bikes usually dissolves into tears over the scooter pretty quickly.
Why not just buy another scooter? No way. I don't like the things to begin with and I'm all caught up in the House on the Prairie books in which Laura and Mary are content with corn cob dolls, so buying a second scooter when both girls already have bikes seems awfully excessive.
Anyway, at first I tried to help them negotiate some kind of reasonable arrangement, but that failed miserably. So I switched my strategy to total indifference. "Work it out," I call over my shoulder as I walk away.
After weeks of this problem, they finally figured it out. Today Katherine informed me, "Mom, we decided only Alexandra can ride the scooter" (which she can't actually do because she is 1). "Oh? Is that because you can't figure out how to share it?" I asked. "Yes. No one gets to ride it. This way I don't have to share. "
Last week Katherine decided she was going to make a swing for the tree in our yard. At first I thought her plan was to make a little swing for her dolls, or maybe the fairies in the fairy house, but as she started gathering materials it became obvious she was going to build herself a swing. We're used to her making whatever it is that she wants but doesn't have - skis, scooters, a violin, flip flops. She usually fashions these things out of cardboard, paper, string, and tape. I assumed this swing would end up like that - kind of real, but mostly pretend. But half an hour later, we peeked in on her project and found this:
I'm not so sure about that middle rope, and Dave did check the knots later that night, but it appears to be sound. They love it and have already spent hours swinging on it.
This swing reminds me that the less I am involved in their play, the more creative and resourceful they are.
We are two months into our new work schedule and I'm finding it harder and harder to find time for this space. I have a lot swirling around in my mind, but without stretches of time to let it settle during the day, the words don't come when I finally sit down to write at 9pm. Plus, I am much less excited to sit down at the computer at night when I've spent all day in front of it.
Once again, I find myself struggling to fit everything I want to do into the routine. There is always something that has to be temporarily juggled out, and I'm afraid that something is this space... at least for a while until I figure out how to work it back in, or rotate something else out.
So maybe this will be a once a week blog for now, or maybe it will be more recipes, book reviews, and pictures, and fewer words. Maybe someone will want to write a guest post?
In the meantime, any working moms out there with wisdom on how to juggle it all?
I have never bought a stuffed animal for my children (although Santa brought a puppy, and the Easter Bunny brought a rabbit). But look all the friends who attended Eastie's birthday party (and this is only half the attendees)!
I don't have anything against stuffed animals, it's just that we have too many. Every time I try to cut down the population, I remember who gave us what and when and get all sentimental about it. I'm not like this about anything else - usually I quite enjoy getting rid of stuff, to the point where the kids have turned "disappear" into a verb, as in, "Mom, are you going to disappear my balloon tonight?" But apparently, despite my general indifference towards them, I have a weakness for stuffed animals.
A fresh space for a new year.
One afternoon, a year ago today, when all three children were miraculously napping at the same time, this blog was created out of a caffeine high combined with a maternity leave "I can do anything" mentality. I initially tried to get my friend Sarah to co-author a blog called SisterWives, but that never happened. So YellowLadybird it was.
Happy one year!
Let's reflect back on that first post: Oatmeal Honey Cookies. I think this is as good an excuse as any to bake.
A while back I wrote an essay on my experience with miscarriage. Stop over at Mamalode to read it!
To lighten things up around here, I saw one of those Facebook parenting cards with this caption on it:
First child eats dirt. Parent calls doctor. Second child eats dirt. Parent cleans out mouth. Third child eats dirt. Parent wonders if she really needs to feed him lunch.
So very true.
Over the past few months, I've attended a few rallies in support of our local GunSense Group, and I've heard some pretty impressive people speak about the gun problem in our country. I wish I could remember exactly who said what so I could give credit appropriately, but at least I can share their wisdom.
A Public Health Issue
There are over 30,000 gun-related deaths each year in the U.S. (11,000 assault, 19,000 intentional self-harm), and each year nearly 20,000 American children and teens are shot. This is a public health issue. To give some perspective, an average of 500 people die from the flu each year (1), which is considered enough of a public health issue that the government spends millions on the flu vaccine to prevent that number from being greater. Gun violence should be treated as a public health issue and we should respond as we do to other public health issues: we should do something.
Guns or Mental Health Care or Video Games?
The pro-gun side says the problem is our mental health system, not guns; and if it's not our mental health care system, then it is violent video games. But it is definitely not guns because guns don't kill people, people kill people.
According to the World Health Organization, we are in the same range of spending on our mental health care system as other developed nations. In fact, we spend more on our mental health care system than France does (2). Yet our murder rate is roughly 15 times greater than those countries (3). The difference isn't our mental health care system, it is the fact that we have more guns per capita than any other country, with almost three times as many guns per capita than most European countries (4).
Well, then it must be the violent video games (which, by the way, gun companies use to market their products, making it rather ironic that they then blame these videos for gun violence). I think we are all disturbed by this phenomena in our country. I cringe to think of children playing games entitled Bulletstorm, Splatterhouse, and Kindergarten Killers. But still, if we are to blame gun violence on video games, we would expect to see a violent video game - gun violence correlation in other countries. Japan, a country that allows the sale of video games even more violent than those allowed in the U.S. (5), had 11 gun-related deaths in 2008. Eleven. In the U.S., there were over 12,000. The difference? Japan has very strict gun laws and almost no guns.
Gun Laws and the 2nd Amendment
America loves its guns. We are a hunting society. It is our constitutional right to own a gun. Like it or not, we need to take that into consideration when writing new laws to reduce gun violence.
Leaving Background Checks and the Assault Weapon Ban aside for a minute, consider the following proposals, none of which violate the constitutional right.
A Safe Storage* law would require gun owners to keep their weapons locked in a safe. This, at the very least, would prevent children from gaining access to a gun. Just as there are extensive requirements for barriers around residential swimming pools so that neighborhood children do not drown, it is reasonable to require safe storage laws for guns on residential property so that neighborhood children are not shot.
A Reckless Ownership Penalty would hold adults accountable for their guns. For example, if an adult's reckless practice enables a child to access a gun and subsequently injure or kill someone, that adult would be held responsible.
A National Registry would require gun owners to register their gun. This would help prevent the illegal sale of guns. Of course, if we have no restrictions on who owns a gun, this isn't really necessary, but it would help enforce a Reckless Ownership Penalty.
Require gun owners to purchase Weapon Insurance to cover damage caused with their weapon, such as victim's health care and/or property damage costs.
None of these four laws threaten the 2nd Amendment. They do not restrict gun ownership in any way. They only aim to make gun ownership safer and protect the public from gun violence. Some states have some of these laws, but they should all be passed at the federal level.
If we are objective, we have to recognize that Health and Criminal Background Checks and Assault Weapon Bans do aim to restrict the 2nd Amendment, and as much as they are common sense laws to us common sense folks, they may need a little extra explanation for those who so fervently protect "the right of people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."
Require Reporting Mental Health Data to the National Instant Check System. Pro gun people talk about fortifying the mental health system. Well, this law would do that. It would help prevent disturbed individuals who are prone to violence from going on shooting sprees.
A Background Check would prevent individuals convicted of a violent crime from purchasing a gun. To me, this is a no brainer, and I'm a little surprised the pro gun folks are so concerned with the rights of convicted felons. As for the law-abiding citizens who would be subjected to the inconvenience of a background check? I can’t imagine that any decent citizen would mind undergoing a background check if it meant saving even one child’s life from gun violence.
An Assault Weapon Ban would prevent mass murders, like Columbine, Virginia Tech, Newtown, to name a few. There is no reason for assault weapons. None of the hunters I know need or use an assault weapon, nor do they want to be in the woods with someone who does. For those who enjoy using assault weapons for recreational shooting, either use blanks or go to a shooting range where such weapons are available for use on the premise. These military weapons are not designed for personal use. At the time the constitution was written, nothing even close to these killing machines had been invented, therefore they should not fall under the definition of "Arms."
An Assault Weapon Ban is drastic, and some people say it wouldn't make a difference given there are already (approximately) 3 million assault weapons in our country (6). This is a problem, there is no doubt about that. But we can solve this problem. We have solved many more difficult problems than this. Polio was a problem, and we solved it. Getting to the moon was a problem, and we solved that. We can solve the problem of existing assault weapons in our country.
Why can't we fix this problem?
I'll get into that in the next post.
*A common counter-argument to the Safe Storage proposal is that keeping a gun locked in a safe prevents one from using a gun in self-defense, and therefore violates the 2nd Amendment. For example, an armed intruder enters your house in the night and your gun is locked up such that you can't access it to shoot the intruder before he shoots you. To this I say, the number of times this type of scenario will occur and result in a gun-related death is not likely to come close to the 20,000 instances of children and teens who are shot each year. So if you are concerned about an armed intruder, carry your gun secured on you during your waking hours and invest in a high quality alarm system at night so that your gun can be stored safely.
References
1. www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/dvs/deaths_2010_release.pdf
2. www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/wonkblog/wp/2012/12/17/seven-facts-about-americas-mental-health-care-system/
3. www.nytimes.com/2012/12/18/opinion/the-gun-challenge-strict-laws-work.html?_r=0
4. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Number_of_guns_per_capita_by_country
5. www.policymic.com/articles/21478/gun-violence-and-video-games-why-this-is-not-the-debate-we-should-be-having
6.www.slate.com/blogs/crime/2012/12/20/assault_rifle_stats_how_many_assault_rifles_are_there_in_america.html
I don't consider this a space for political discussions, but gun violence has become a parenting issue and so I have decided to write about it.
I am so very disappointed with what happened today. The fact is that 90% of Americans support background checks, but the bill still didn't pass. This is just a small glimpse of a serious and deeply disturbing problem in our country. But before I get into the legislative debate, I'd like to explain why it is so personal to me.
On May 20, 1988, a mentally ill woman with a history of violence went into one of our town's elementary schools and shot one first grader and five second graders. One died. Two were the siblings of my 7th grade peers. The woman then fled the school, entered a house and shot a twenty-year-old before killing herself. My parents, who had been at a meeting at the junior high when the call came in, went to the school to help and served as first responders.
It is difficult to write about that day, what it did to our community. I can state the facts, but not more than that. My sister, who was in second grade at the time, recently commented that none of her friends ever talk about it, and I have noticed that, too, among my friends. Twenty-five years later we still can't find words to describe the horror of that day. There is nothing we can say that even touches it, so we say nothing. But it lives in us and always will, and every time another school shooting occurs, the vivid pain and grief of that day comes rushing back.
There have been many school shootings since the one in my town, and each time I try to shrug it off and block out the information and images. I've already been through that, I've already grieved for children shot. But Newtown is different. I am a mother now, and not only that, I am a mother to a six-year-old. I have spent two Thanksgivings with friends in Newtown. My children have played on a Newtown playground. I ran in the Newtown Thanksgiving Road Race. I cannot shrug off the horror or block out the information. I am haunted by images of children with holes through their little bodies, lying still on the floor. I can too easily see my daughter's face on one of those lifeless bodies, still in the clothes she had picked out the night before. I have to force these images out of my mind on a daily basis. But even when I succeed in suppressing them, the grief cuts in when I least expect it - when I am combing my daughter's hair before school, reminding her to sit still at the dinner table, kissing her goodnight at bedtime. I can barely grasp the pain that overwhelms me before my mind's reflex rejects it, leaving me empty, anxious and depressed. All of this grief... and I am not even part of the Newtown community.
After the shooting in my home town, I rationalized that it would not happen again. It was a once in a lifetime, random tragedy. Surely measures would be taken to solve whatever problem there was in the system. But it has happened again. It keeps on happening. Here we are twenty-five years later and nothing has been done. In fact, gun ownership has increased, military-style assault weapons are available to anyone who wants one, and there are approximately 11,000 gun-related deaths per year in our country.
And today congress voted down a simple, sensible law that would require a background check before purchasing a gun… a law that 90% of Americans supported.
That is all I can write today.
People often ask how we manage with three kids and one small car. The answer is: two Radian carseats for the big sisters and a Chicco Keyfit 30 for the baby.
Living in DC, it was really nice having one little car. Then when we decided to have a third kid, everyone told us we'd need a bigger car, so naturally we dug in our heels to prove we did not need a bigger car.
Now that Alexandra is getting longer (and we have experienced our first "mud season"), we may need to rethink our car situation. But not yet. We are going to hang onto our little Versa for as long as we can.
I just finished reading Bringing up Bébé, which I loved. One of Druckerman's observations is that in American kids' books there is usually a problem, a struggle, and a happy resolution, "Lessons are learned, and life gets better" (p. 162). Stepping back, I see how true this cultural phenomenon is, and I wonder, is this another automatic and empty reflex that has blindly taken over children's literature the way "good jobbing" has taken over parent talk? Do we really want to communicate to our children that life is full of neat and tidy endings? Because I have yet to experience that kind of life and I'm not sure raising our kids to believe it will make it so...
To avoid turning my children into anxious underachievers who will never ever succeed in life because they are wasting away in a neurotic spiral of doom while waiting for that happy ending promised in all the childhood stories I ever told them... here is my first Curative Story à la française.
Curative Story: Molly Artiste
Once upon a time there was a bunny, and her name was Molly bunny. Molly bunny lived in the forest with her mama bunny and her daddy bunny. Molly bunny was 6 years old and loved to draw. Every afternoon while her mama was cooking carrot stew, Molly bunny would sit on the stump with her favorite long stick and draw pictures in the dirt. She drew tall trees, little flowers with petals, bumble bees, butterflies, and even her best friend, Agoo the chipmunk.
One day, Molly bunny was drawing a picture of a tree she had recently discovered in the forest. It was an old tree with many strong branches. One branch held a bird's nest and another had a long rope swing that a little girl would sometimes stop to play on when she took a walk in the woods. Molly bunny was trying to draw the girl on the rope swing. She frowned in concentration as she dragged the stick across the earth to make the rope hang down from the tree. Then she drew a head and a body and arms to make the girl. Molly bunny looked at what she had drawn and it didn't look like a girl on a rope swing at all. She smoothed the dirt to erase the girl and tried again. It still didn't look right. Molly bunny threw her stick in frustration and yelled, "This is NOT working!"
"Molly!" exclaimed mama bunny, looking up from her stew, "what's wrong?" "This drawing in terrible," said Molly bunny angrily. Mama bunny came over to look at it. "Hmmm," she said, "what don't you like about it?" "It doesn't look like a girl on a rope swing. It doesn't look like anything. It's terrible!" And with that Molly jumped down onto her picture and stirred up all the dirt until no picture was left.
Mama bunny sighed. "Well, you could draw something else. Or try it again. But it might not look the way you want it to. Sometimes art is like that." Molly bunny looked at her mama. "I really want to draw the girl on the rope swing," she said, gazing at a clean patch of dirt. She picked up her stick and started over. After a few minutes she stepped back and looked at her drawing. The tree looked good, she thought, but it still didn't look like a girl on a rope swing.
Molly tossed her stick aside. Her artwork was not working today, she decided. So she hopped off the stump and went to gather stones to play hopscotch instead.
When we moved to Vermont I was ready for a real winter. I faced it full of energy, prepared for a good 4-5 months of cold and snow. But now it is April and my "I love winter" energy has run out. Leftover dirty, icy snow covers our yard and the wind is still chilly. It feels like we're in some sort of no man's land - winter is over but spring feels far away.
I can't help but long for DC... March and April are my favorite months in DC (or maybe I should say DC is my favorite place in March and April), and I'm pretty sure they are my least favorite months in Vermont.
Vermont in April:
DC in April:
I won't miss DC's 90+ degrees from May-September, but right now? I'm kind of wishing I were there.
"Eastie" (center) with the two new dolls.
The Easter Bunny diversified our doll population this morning. The girls' reaction was interesting and not quite what I expected.
Clara with her new love, "J"
Clara, who has faithfully loved her doll "Eastie" since the Easter Bunny brought him last year, immediately abandoned him to claim the Asian doll as her new love. She named her "J" after her cousin J, whose father is Chinese.
Katherine, who has been jealous of "Eastie" all year, jumped on the opportunity to make him her own - and make "him" a "her." Eastie does get to keep her name, although there has been some talk of changing it to Ava or Ella.
Alexandra took an instant liking to the brown baby, and has been alternating cuddling her and tossing her down the slide all day.
In addition to the doll swap, all the clothes have been changed around. But now it seems everyone is settled with their new dolls.
The only comment I heard about the dolls' ethnicity came from Katherine, who claimed she liked Eastie the best "because she has the same skin as I do." An innocent comment that shows she does notice race and has a preference for dolls who look like her. This is a pretty typical six-year-old reaction, but it is also a reminder of how important it is for our home to reflect the diversity we want our children to value.
I've mentioned before that Kristen over at Rage Against the Minivan writes a lot about race in our society. If you are interested in reading more about children and racial differences, I highly recommend her post on How to Talk to Kids About Race and Racism.
A brief escape to this beautiful beach* for an hour at sunset today.
Purple sand. I'd never seen purple sand.
It's nice to have two days of intense greens and blues (and purple) after months of the wintery black and white of Vermont.
Can anyone guess what beach this is?
*I would have taken these pictures myself if I had thought to bring a camera on this trip. But I didn't, so photography credit goes to the wonderful people who upload their pictures to the internet for others to enjoy!.
From Soulemama: A Friday ritual. A single photo - no words - capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
I just discovered Pinterest. I knew the general idea and have heard/read about how it often makes moms feel bad about what they're not doing or pulling off with their homes/cooking/baking/etc. So when I added a few boards to get started (as Pinterest made me do), I wasn't surprised to see some pretty impressive baking feats.
Once upon a time, I decorated the things I baked. Not anymore. I think the last time Dave and I did any cake decorating was for Katherine's first birthday.
I've tried a few times since, but since I do most of my baking with small children who want to help out, I've learned everyone is much happier when there is no specific outcome in mind.
So while some people's Easter cookies look like this...
Ours look like this...
(In case it isn't obvious, there are bunnies, carrots, maple leaves "because it's maple sugar time", little fairy cookies, and something round that is also for the fairies, but I never did understand what it was for exactly)
Last week as we were loading into the car after a triple-kid doctor appointment (we're all much better now, thank you for the well wishes), a mom in the car next to us was unloading her three children, the oldest of whom was about 8 and in a wheelchair. Both Katherine and Clara watched intently as the mom settled her son into his chair. By "intently," I mean staring and captivated.
I smiled at the mom as I would any other mom with three kids and then went about putting mine in their carseats. But I wondered, what does that mom want me to do about my kids staring at her kid? What does she want me to tell them to meet their curiosity about her son? What does she want me not to do or say?
As I was buckling them in, Katherine was silent, but clearly thinking about the boy. So I asked her, Katherine, do you have any questions you would like to ask me about the boy in the wheelchair? At first she hesitated and shook her head, but then she asked, Why was he in a wheelchair?
Me: I don't know. Maybe he came out of his mom's belly a little too early and his muscles don't work properly. I'm not sure.
Katherine: Can he walk? Or talk?
Me: No, he can't walk, but he can talk. He might not sound the way you do when you talk, but he probably talks just as much as you do and I bet his mom has to tell him to talk more quietly when his little sister is sleeping!
Katherine: What else does he do?
Me: I bet he loves to read - he looks like he's 7 or 8, so he is probably learning to read at school. And I bet he likes when his mom and dad read to him before bed.
Katherine: Does he sleep in his wheelchair? Can he get out of it?
Me: He sleeps in a bed and he can sit on the couch or play on the floor.
Katherine: Will I be in a wheelchair someday?
Me: No, you won't. Your muscles work properly.
Katherine: Oh, ok.
Me: Do you have any more questions? I'm happy to talk to you about this and answer your questions.
That balance between answering their questions, but not providing more information than they are asking for, or are ready for, or can handle at one time, is tricky. And questions like that aren't usually the ones you can prepare for. I didn't know why the boy was in the wheelchair, but I thought that Katherine needed some sort of simple explanation. And of course I can't promise anyone that they won't be in a wheelchair someday, but at her age, she shouldn't have the burden of worrying about the turns life can take, and so I just answered, no.
Katherine seemed satisfied with the conversation, but I do wonder how to raise children so that disabilities are simply accepted and do not cause a barrier in making a connection with someone.
Anyone have any experience or advice in this area that they'd be willing to share?
