My son has had a moment of brilliance. Mom is not the House Fairy! He is now totally sure that Mom is not bringing the wonderful little treats.
On Saturday I went out his House Fairy treat before we left to run errands. I was so scared he’d go into the bedroom before we left the house. And he did! But he didn’t see the surprise sitting up on his bed.
When we stopped by Wal-Mart, they had a wonderful supply of the characters from Cars. My son loves these, and will do anything for them. He has two versions of Lightening, and one Mater. They are often sold out of this hot commodity, so I picked up four different ones, promising to give them to the House Fairy to use as treats. He looked at me, as if he’d caught on to how this worked.
But when we got home, he found a double pack of Ramone, and Flo, two wonderful characters from the movie, already on his bed. He was completely stunned. His nice little theory went flying out the window, and he was left to conclude that the House Fairy really did come to our house.
Ever since then, he’s been regularly cleaning his room. Now he wants to go to sleep in case the House Fairy comes to bring him one of those great toys that he saw me buy.
I love the House Fairy!
Sunday, March 4, 2007
My accidental genuis
This is one of those days when I wish I had a scanner.
I was going thru my daughter’s binder and found this one page of schoolwork. Since the picture she was identifying was on the right hand side, she wrote the word from right to left. The words are completely backwards; I mean mirror image of what it should be. The order is reversed; the shape of the letter is backwards.
Mind you, this is the kid who sings the alphabet backwards. She is a precocious, brilliant child. I think she just saw an opportunity to write the answer in an interesting manner. Thinking of the answer was easy enough, and she had more than enough brainpower left over to write the word totally backwards.
I’m sunk when this kid grows up to a teenager.
I was going thru my daughter’s binder and found this one page of schoolwork. Since the picture she was identifying was on the right hand side, she wrote the word from right to left. The words are completely backwards; I mean mirror image of what it should be. The order is reversed; the shape of the letter is backwards.
Mind you, this is the kid who sings the alphabet backwards. She is a precocious, brilliant child. I think she just saw an opportunity to write the answer in an interesting manner. Thinking of the answer was easy enough, and she had more than enough brainpower left over to write the word totally backwards.
I’m sunk when this kid grows up to a teenager.
Friday, March 2, 2007
Football!
I am training up a wonderful footballer. My hallway has become our football pitch. We kick the ball back and forth. He screams in pleasure!
Yes, I bought my son a soccer ball for his birthday. He has informed me it is not a football. A football in a brown oval thing that you carry, Mom! See, I told him, how can that be a football, now look see, dis one-dis one we use da feet!
My one rule, hands are not used on our ball. As a result, both my kids have learned ball control techniques within the 3 days this ball has been bouncing around our home.
Tonight we spent about ten minutes kicking the ball up and down the hallway. My son still tries to use the front of his foot, but he’s quickly finding out that hurts his toes. He sees me use the side of my foot, and he’s trying to imitate me.
I got in a couple of really hard kicks. He squealed with glee, especially when the ball went high and hit the wall. I stared at him, the ashamed look of a child, and he laughed at me. Mommy became just the same as him, a kid enjoying the ball.
We’ll have to take the ball to a park around here this weekend and really chase it! Run and kick and have a good time! He’s got a lot of learning to do.
When I was seven, I was in Nigeria, playing football against the village kids. All of them knew how to control the ball, and all I could do was put my leg in the foray. I was no match for them.
My son is the same. He will never be a star player, and so what! He’s having a ton of fun, and burning off some energy!
Yes, I bought my son a soccer ball for his birthday. He has informed me it is not a football. A football in a brown oval thing that you carry, Mom! See, I told him, how can that be a football, now look see, dis one-dis one we use da feet!
My one rule, hands are not used on our ball. As a result, both my kids have learned ball control techniques within the 3 days this ball has been bouncing around our home.
Tonight we spent about ten minutes kicking the ball up and down the hallway. My son still tries to use the front of his foot, but he’s quickly finding out that hurts his toes. He sees me use the side of my foot, and he’s trying to imitate me.
I got in a couple of really hard kicks. He squealed with glee, especially when the ball went high and hit the wall. I stared at him, the ashamed look of a child, and he laughed at me. Mommy became just the same as him, a kid enjoying the ball.
We’ll have to take the ball to a park around here this weekend and really chase it! Run and kick and have a good time! He’s got a lot of learning to do.
When I was seven, I was in Nigeria, playing football against the village kids. All of them knew how to control the ball, and all I could do was put my leg in the foray. I was no match for them.
My son is the same. He will never be a star player, and so what! He’s having a ton of fun, and burning off some energy!
Thursday, March 1, 2007
Sugar
I ate some sugar today, actually some candy. Bad idea, really bad idea!
I passed the candy bowl in the lobby as I went to the break room. Jessica had refilled it with my favorites, so I grabbed a few thinking nothing of it. In the break room I pulled out my granola bar, and took the candy back to my desk. As I popped the first piece in my mouth it dawned on me that these were really just little pieces of stress, and with the day I was already having, eating them was not a good idea.
But with the stress I was having, I wanted to indulge myself. And besides, it hurt so much to think of throwing them away, or putting them back in the bowl. So I ate the first one. I felt my body slow down, a nice lethargy creep over me, something akin to the quiet peace that invades as I snuggle up in bed. I ripped open the second one. Only a few bites into it, my head became light, and the all pervasive feeling of anxiety swept away any pleasure. And yet I continued to finish off the candy. By the time I was done I knew that my mental nick-name of "bits of stress" for candy was a very real name. I feel light headed, and unfocused. I was clawing my way back to reality, anxious and nervous.
Sugar. Not a good thing in my book. Stay away from it. It's a poison.
I passed the candy bowl in the lobby as I went to the break room. Jessica had refilled it with my favorites, so I grabbed a few thinking nothing of it. In the break room I pulled out my granola bar, and took the candy back to my desk. As I popped the first piece in my mouth it dawned on me that these were really just little pieces of stress, and with the day I was already having, eating them was not a good idea.
But with the stress I was having, I wanted to indulge myself. And besides, it hurt so much to think of throwing them away, or putting them back in the bowl. So I ate the first one. I felt my body slow down, a nice lethargy creep over me, something akin to the quiet peace that invades as I snuggle up in bed. I ripped open the second one. Only a few bites into it, my head became light, and the all pervasive feeling of anxiety swept away any pleasure. And yet I continued to finish off the candy. By the time I was done I knew that my mental nick-name of "bits of stress" for candy was a very real name. I feel light headed, and unfocused. I was clawing my way back to reality, anxious and nervous.
Sugar. Not a good thing in my book. Stay away from it. It's a poison.
Wednesday, February 28, 2007
False Self/True Self
“Miller believed that as the true self was disowned, the false self was elevated. If others approved, the false self felt validated and the person was temporarily happy. With the false self in charge, all validation came from outside the person. If the false self failed to gain approval the person was devastated.
“This loss of the true self was so traumatic that her patients repressed it. They had only a vague recollection of what was lost, a sense of emptiness and betrayal. They felt vulnerable and directionless- happy when praised and devastated when ignored or criticized. They were like sailboats without centerboards. Their self-worth changed with whatever way the wind blew.” -Mary Pipher, Reviving Ophelia
This resonates with me. There have been so many times in my life where I have felt the devastation of being ignored. Most recently in my marriage. My husband had little time for me, and nearly no affection.
In the first two years this fact drove me to bang my head against a wall in frustration. Searching for his love and approval, I created a public self that I thought would meet his needs. But it didn’t work because he paid no more attention to me when I did do things his way.
I lived for the moments of his attention. And he hated it. He could sense my dependence and need. He felt like I was draining him, trying to force him into the “good husband” box. He did not want to fit someone else’s definition. He wanted to be his own man, so he pulled against me.
After a few years I gave up. His love was unwinnable, so I settled with being civil and keeping our family together. And it worked for a long time. There were even some real fun moments we had together.
I don’t want to put myself thru this ever again. I am too close to the pain right now to be able to describe what happened to me. Like a starving person, I could make no progress. Each day was spent working so hard to be civil, and keep our family functioning.
I feel myself starting to live again. I have real plans. And now I have fun because it’s something I enjoy. I know myself. I no longer feel empty, or betrayed. All I want is to slip this final leash and be completely free.
“This loss of the true self was so traumatic that her patients repressed it. They had only a vague recollection of what was lost, a sense of emptiness and betrayal. They felt vulnerable and directionless- happy when praised and devastated when ignored or criticized. They were like sailboats without centerboards. Their self-worth changed with whatever way the wind blew.” -Mary Pipher, Reviving Ophelia
This resonates with me. There have been so many times in my life where I have felt the devastation of being ignored. Most recently in my marriage. My husband had little time for me, and nearly no affection.
In the first two years this fact drove me to bang my head against a wall in frustration. Searching for his love and approval, I created a public self that I thought would meet his needs. But it didn’t work because he paid no more attention to me when I did do things his way.
I lived for the moments of his attention. And he hated it. He could sense my dependence and need. He felt like I was draining him, trying to force him into the “good husband” box. He did not want to fit someone else’s definition. He wanted to be his own man, so he pulled against me.
After a few years I gave up. His love was unwinnable, so I settled with being civil and keeping our family together. And it worked for a long time. There were even some real fun moments we had together.
I don’t want to put myself thru this ever again. I am too close to the pain right now to be able to describe what happened to me. Like a starving person, I could make no progress. Each day was spent working so hard to be civil, and keep our family functioning.
I feel myself starting to live again. I have real plans. And now I have fun because it’s something I enjoy. I know myself. I no longer feel empty, or betrayed. All I want is to slip this final leash and be completely free.
Love
Yesterday I watched the movie Bend it like Beckham. The combination of British and Indian humor hits me just right. Since my last year in Nigeria was spent with a pair of Sheik teenagers living in our home, the movie is somewhat nostalgic for me.
What shocked me though was the love story. Mind you, I’ve owned this movie for over two years. My kids love it because of all the football. But it contains romantic subplot.
Unlike American movies, for half of the movie you are not sure if they really do like each other. Their first kiss doesn’t occur until after the climax, as the movie is ending. They don’t jump into bed with each other. They are nervous, and don’t always know how to express themselves. I keep on seeing one scene where the male lead pulls her hand to his heart. The emotions are poignant, and so real.
I want that. I want the respect, and concern. I want a man to look at me with adoration, believing that with me at his side he can face any obstacle. I want a man who will see my real value, and acknowledge my weaknesses. I want a man who feels he is my equal. I want a man who knows the truth about himself. I won’t settle for less.
Now somebody tell me how to recognize this man when he comes along, and how to shift out the fakes. Please.
What shocked me though was the love story. Mind you, I’ve owned this movie for over two years. My kids love it because of all the football. But it contains romantic subplot.
Unlike American movies, for half of the movie you are not sure if they really do like each other. Their first kiss doesn’t occur until after the climax, as the movie is ending. They don’t jump into bed with each other. They are nervous, and don’t always know how to express themselves. I keep on seeing one scene where the male lead pulls her hand to his heart. The emotions are poignant, and so real.
I want that. I want the respect, and concern. I want a man to look at me with adoration, believing that with me at his side he can face any obstacle. I want a man who will see my real value, and acknowledge my weaknesses. I want a man who feels he is my equal. I want a man who knows the truth about himself. I won’t settle for less.
Now somebody tell me how to recognize this man when he comes along, and how to shift out the fakes. Please.
Tuesday, February 27, 2007
7th birthday
Today is my son’s 7th birthday. I had hoped to have a good picture to put up with this post, but that didn’t work out!
Grandma and Grandpa called this morning to wish him a happy birthday. And they happened to mention the huge box that is his birthday present. After talking with them, he begged me to let him open it. Nope, going to be opened tonight with all the other presents. So he sulked around the house.
I love technology! My parents were literally in the middle of the Kalahari Desert when they called! My mom arranged for her students to take 2-3 week missionary assignments with the aboriginal people of the desert. And they just so happened to have cell phone coverage out there. Here we are, standing in the bathroom with the phone on speaker, and my parents are wishing my son happy birthday from half way across the globe!
Anyway, enough of that! I took the day off work. I went up to the school and had lunch with the kids. My son was all smiles, so happy! He could hardly sit on his bottom to eat his lunch! He doesn’t know I’ll be coming back this afternoon with cookies for his class.
This has been a vacation day well spent, as far as I’m concerned. I’m getting a lot of mileage out of my time off work.
Leading up to this grand occasion, we’ve discussed the kids’ birth stories. My son was born before the doctor could get there, and he loves to hear about that. My daughter was an emergency C-section. She had nothing on her brother’s volume, and sounded more like a mewing kitten then a screaming infant.
Seven years! Wow!
Grandma and Grandpa called this morning to wish him a happy birthday. And they happened to mention the huge box that is his birthday present. After talking with them, he begged me to let him open it. Nope, going to be opened tonight with all the other presents. So he sulked around the house.
I love technology! My parents were literally in the middle of the Kalahari Desert when they called! My mom arranged for her students to take 2-3 week missionary assignments with the aboriginal people of the desert. And they just so happened to have cell phone coverage out there. Here we are, standing in the bathroom with the phone on speaker, and my parents are wishing my son happy birthday from half way across the globe!
Anyway, enough of that! I took the day off work. I went up to the school and had lunch with the kids. My son was all smiles, so happy! He could hardly sit on his bottom to eat his lunch! He doesn’t know I’ll be coming back this afternoon with cookies for his class.
This has been a vacation day well spent, as far as I’m concerned. I’m getting a lot of mileage out of my time off work.
Leading up to this grand occasion, we’ve discussed the kids’ birth stories. My son was born before the doctor could get there, and he loves to hear about that. My daughter was an emergency C-section. She had nothing on her brother’s volume, and sounded more like a mewing kitten then a screaming infant.
Seven years! Wow!
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