Athletic Kids

I am crazy competitive. Just starting from this point so you all know the springboard from which I'm springing.

And when I say crazy competitive, I mean ... I can even make Yoga a competition.

So, it kinda used to bug me that my first born didn't seem really all that in to sports. First off, she was kinda clumsy. Well, REALLY clumsy. One time, when she was like 3, she was sitting on that stationary toddler bike thingy that hooked to a video game on the TV. She wasn't playing, she was just sitting there watching TV and she fell off. Yep, nothing provoked this fall -- she just fell. In fact, she fell so much back then that she didn't even cry anymore when she did fall.

So, I continually thanked God she was just naturally built small (yielding shorter falls of course) and well, hopefully we won't have to deal with any significant weight issues as she gets older. But I wanted her to be really into sports. I love sports and I think team sports in particular are great for kids. We tried her in soccer and she did fine. But I can't say she was really IN to it or in to anything we'd proposed thus far.

Now I get that she's only 6 and it's way to early to t

hrow in the towel on an athletic high school career for Saylah, but again it was a little concern tucked in the back of my brain.

Then along comes Audrey. Who typically I'd say does hint at the propensity for sports. Partially because physically she is competitive -- okay, sometimes even aggressive. But of course ... she's 4, so really again, I know ... can't tell anything just yet.

And it's not that they HAVE to be great at sports. But I would at least like them to like it and to actually TRY when they play them.

But lately Saylah has really had it in her heart that she wants to be a Rock Star when she grows up. And I truly do believe it's in her heart. Which means, she has taken to not only watching but studying dance videos (appropriate ones of course) to capture the dance moves. And when I mean study, I mean

I caught her playing the DVD, stopping it and taking notes on the steps a couple of weeks ago. She is intense about it.

Yesterday she asked me if I knew the moon walk. Which resulted in my reply (chuckling), "yes I do, but how do YOU know the moon walk?" It was on the Kid Bopz Dance DVD of course!

Then we started her in gymnastics recently and wow does she love that. In fact, I had to get her down from the top of the swing set beam when just after three lessons she was getting ready to "try to do the balance beam!" (OK let's not "try" to do anything from 8 feet in the air!)

So, it occurs to me. That perhaps I just hadn't found the right kind of physical activity yet for her. Sure, none of these are really team sports, but they do require hard work and being fit. I'm just thrilled that her interests span beyond watching TV or coloring, into something active that will keep her healthy.

Speaking of healthy -- for those parents who have kids in elementary school. If the Right Track Challenge comes your way (alas, another fund raiser) participate in this one! We did it today with her school and it was so well done and awesome. The kids earn pledges for running around a course, earning money for the school for every lap the do. Not only was it positive for the school, it was awesome for the kids as they learned about the importance of being healthy and working hard to achieve a goal.

THAT Mom

Okay, I admit it, I’m THAT Mom. You know the one … the one you always promised you wouldn’t be, but probably from time to time … are. Well, I was her this weekend. We took a little family stay-cation to Disney’s Riverside Resort to experience the Royal Rooms. (super pretty and totally Disney-class fun) And it occurred to me that these little stay-cations are anything but relaxing for me.

Yep, I’m the mom running around and grouching at the kids trying to prevent any itty bitty from getting lost, bones from being broken as they jump from bed to bed or drowning as they go three different directions in the pool. My heart stops every time they jump in the pool as we’ve already had one emergency room trip last summer because – little tip for you -- when little kids jump in a pool, well they like to jump tow

ards the closest wall (which is inevitably the one they are jumping from).

So here I am, wound like a tight cuckoo clock, sitting in a pool, freezing my toosh off in the only 80-degree March weather, basking in squeels of delight and glee from the kiddos and realizing that the last time I stayed at a hotel with the kids I felt the same way. Sigh.

Here’s the thing, I’m sure as they get older I won’t be as neurotic … I hope. But until they can all swim, understand gravity and are big enough to run away from a stranger, I’m pretty sure that my most relaxing moments as a mommy will be when they are all safely tucked in and asleep in their royal beds.

BTW – if you’ve not been to the Royal Rooms … the fiber optic fireworks as the headboards are so cool!!

Swahili Click

Maybe it’s because he’s my third; or he’s my final; or I’m just a darn good parent, but I tell you what, I have gotten GOOD at this baby interpreting thing.

Six years later I can really tell you what my baby means by something. With Saylah I totally made it up. Totally. With Audrey, I based it off of what I made up with Saylah. But with Isaac, well I’m an interpreting genius!

For instance, when Isaac smacks his lips together … he wants to eat. When he takes his Cheerios and throws them on the floor … he’s all done. And when he curls up his lips and scrunches his nose and eyes together … he’s fake crying. Yeah I said it ... interpreting genius.

But my very very favorite expression that I get from Isaac, one I’ve gotten from him for about 8 months or so is his Swahili tongue click. He is very selective on who he does this to. He started out with just me. Then I noticed he did it at Ben. Then I’ve noticed just a couple of others who have received the coveted click.

Why just today, while waiting at a red light, I heard a little tongue click. I smile at myself, then click back, turn around quickly to see his expression and swoon when his eyes light up and he gives me that knowing look and … click.

My heart melts. It’s Isaac’s way of saying “I love you.”

It doesn’t get much better than this. =)

What does your baby do to tell you how he feels?

De Las Puertos …

I have NO idea how that’s really spelled, nor do I really know what it says other than something about the doors and keeping your hands out of them as the monorail doors close.

If you’re from Orlando, and non-hispanic speaking, you probably have also attempted to spew out this familiar and fun-sounding phrase. Most likely to no avail.

Being originally from Missouri, the immersion of multi-culturalism in Orlando was quite new for me … and for my visiting family. Sure you expect to hear Spanish at Disney, but to see it on billboards, have your neighbors speaking it and even the school producing a Spanish version of the monthly newsletter – now that was weird. I remember when I was in high school my dad being upset with me because I took French instead of Spanish. Being the know-it-all teenager that I was, I informed him that the likelihood of me needing to know Spanish in Missouri is about as probable as needing to know French. (I was a bit of a smart alec.) Not that I corrected that error in college – where I opted to learn Japanese. Not your most commonly-needed language tool in America – though the skill does offer a good “stupid-human-trick” for parties from time to time.

Mid-americans live sheltered lives, sprinkled with the interactions of a a few minority folks here and there. We pretty much only hear Spanish in a Spanish class or perhaps the neighborhood Mexican restaurant. It’s from

this neck of the country the phrase, “you’re in America now buddy, speak English” probably matriculated. And whereas there may be some truth to that somewhat rude statement, I love the fact that everywhere I go, rest-assured, I will hear someone speaking a language different than my own, at least one time during my experience that day.

Knowing the difference of being raised where there were a few black kids in my school, that were bussed in from the inner-city in St. Louis to now we have black, Hispanic and white neighbors is awesome for my kids and their perspective on America’s true melting pot.

But up until this year, I always wondered when exactly kids started recognizing the difference in cultures. I remember at 2, Saylah saw a woman and mistook her for her friend’s (who is black) mom. It was funny mostly because the woman was like 60 and her friends mom was suredly NOT! Then at 4 her best friend in preschool was black and not once did she mention a difference in color. But this year, upon the introduction of Kindergarten and public

school, it seems that Saylah started realizing a difference.

At dinner one night she told me she was friends with a little girl who was different from her and that was good because not everyone wanted to be friends with people who looked different than them. GASP! I was not amused. Of course not because she was different than Say, but because Saylah thought it was okay to give this girl a pity friendship simply because she was different. It was like affirmative action friendship. Yikes. Plus I was a little taken aback that she even knew that concept because we don’t typically talk appearance in our family. Well, not beyond personal appearance: teeth brushing, hair combing, keeping clothes clean, that type of stuff.

Even though her heart was in the right place, I didn’t like where her mind was. I thought about it for a minute and decided to take it to a God level. “Saylah what do you think God thinks about people who don’t want to be friends with someone who looks different from them?” She thought about it a moment and decided, “I think He thinks its okay.” Dangit! That didn’t work. Hmmm, okay, let’s just tell her the right

answer. “Saylah, God says He loves us no matter what we look like. And that we aren’t friends with people because of how they look or don’t look. But that we are friends with those we’re meant to be friends with.” Or something like that. We talked about being a good friend, and what we look for in a friend. All the typical mommy-mumble-jumble. It seemed to work.

But, I wasn’t satisfied. Again, her heart was in the right place. But I felt like the conversation fell short of it's potential. As grown ups we often shy away from acknowledging differences, and I didn’t want my little in-the-box speech to imply I thought that way too. Being black, white, Hispanic or otherwise is not cause for hushed-toned conversations. And I was afraid Saylah would get the impression I didn't want her to recognize that people are different from each other, which they ARE. Being different is not wrong and should be embraced. And if it's noticed, let’s chat about it, respectfully.

So in our family we try to embrace differences by talking of skin color, languages, cultures or whatever when it comes up. Not only does it feel like a good parenting approach, I will admit, we have some fun conversations. For instance:

One day shortly after the different-than-me conversation, Saylah asked if I could braid her hair like Ja’nayiah’s. She promptly instructed me there needed to be several braids and they needed to stick up. She thought that looked pretty neat. Imagine her disappointment when I told her that I could put braids in her hair but she might look odd with as many as Ja’nayiah had and even if I did put that many, they would not stick up, as her hair didn’t do that. She conceded ... though I’m pretty sure she wasn’t convinced.

Or, just recently:

Audrey was singing Jesus Loves the Little Children

Jesus loves the little children …

all the children of the world,

yellow, black and brown and white,

they are precious in His sight …

Jesus loves the little children of the world!

She finished and looked up quizzically and asked, “Mommy, who’s yellow?”

... Anyone else ever thought about how non-PC this song is btw?

I did NOT say Asian btw, I thought that might still be rude. I instead made up an answer about needing another color to make the song work. (Yes I copped out, but that was too hard to explain to a 4-year-old.)

But, the fact that my children are surrounded in a culture that is in fact the true testimony to America’s melting pot is awesome to me. Only in Central Florida when my 13 month old decides to have a mommy-seperation-melt down will I get the nursery teacher soothing him in the sweetest slurry of Spanish I’ve ever heard. I sincerely have NO idea what she is saying, but it made Isaac feel better and quite frankly sounded way nicer than anything I’ve ever said.

I think as grown ups we take for granted the different people and cultures we get to be around. I mean, the biggest conversation I ever have about it is when I wonder with my gal pals, just what are the nail ladies saying when we get our pedis?!

I love that the different languages that I hear around me every day will be common-place to my kids. That instead of (like me when I moved here) being awe-struck and intrigued by all the accents and languages, that for a vast part of their life, they will not even notice the difference, because, quite frankly, its nothing different to them.

Since preschool they’ve had Spanish classes. We’ve had black friends, white friends, Asian friends and Hispanic friends. And I love it! I guess it still tends to yield that the majority of their friends do look like them, but have you asked your child what color she or he is? Mine usually say peach or pink. And think its kinda funny that people call us white.

These Shoes are Made for Walkin'

Kid-rearing is kinda a weird little juggle of emotions isn't it? When you have one you are so excited for them to do the next milestone. Make her walk at 6 months. Yes, make, and no not really at 6 months. Is she talking yet? Is she doing long-division? Whatever, each milestone is a big deal, right?

Then you have the second and well, let's admit it, it's a constant comparison in your head (well in mine at least it was) of is she doing it at the same pace as the first?

But now we're at our third and final. Well, I didn't think I was that Mommy who didn't want to let the baby-stage end. But turns out ... well I just might be. I remember when my first was born telling my Mom how dumb I thought the saying was, "oh if they could stay little forever." Oh but if they could ...

Isaac is walking. He started full on walking about a week ago. He took his first step on Christmas. But I'm proud to say we didn't overly encourage that after his first. I mean we helped a little, cheered him on when he took some more. But three kids at vertical status ... well that's a lot of little hands at reach level.

But it's more that that really. He's WALKING. Ugh and sigh. That means he'll be outside playing with the others soon enough. And, sigh again, my little snuggle is off an running. I'm not gonna lie, a little bit of me wanted to do what Josh Duhamel did in Life As We Know It with Kathryn Heigl when he pushed the baby down when she started to take her first step. Don't worry, I didn't.

My mom told me, well he's going to walk you know. And yes, I know. But again now I've got to let go of my baby stager mentality and embrace having three KIDS.

It's funny how fast raising kids goes by. Has anyone else seen that Facebook post about embracing that? I love that girl who wrote it. I totally agree with her. Racing the always perpetuating kid-time clock is stressful. Yes, there are times I wish it would slow down, but then again, there are times I wish it would speed up. For example, I'm pretty sure I won't be too sad when I no longer have to change a poopy diaper.

Do You Want to Be Around Your Child?

The other day my cousin texted me something that made methink about why Iparent the three the way I do. I've always been close to my cousin (so I hope outing him now won't change that ;). He's a super smart guy, incredibly hard-working and one of my very favorite people in this world.

Here's the set up: He made a comment on my last blog. I texted him and told him to follow me. His reply was something to the effect that his wife would be a better person to do that because he considers himself to be more of a "go against the grain" kind of parent.

Let me stop here for a shameless plea -- I DO need followers. So will you please officially follow me on my blog site? First off, I am hoping someday to get cool products to pass on to my readers and paid advertisers to introduce to my bank account. But secondly, it's just kind of lonely only having one follower. ;) Which ...

is what I pretty much said to him. ;)

Okay, on with the story. So Chris (yes that's his real name) told me that he's a go-against-the-grain-parent. Well the sarcastic side of me wants him to know that he can't be all that go-against-the-grain quite yet since his son is only a few months old. (not much grain to go against) ;)

But, more poignantly, it made me think about his comment itself. Not because of him, or his implication about my blog or parenting, but more so it made me consider why we parent the

way we do. As a first-time parent I remember looking through all the books and learning what "they" said we should do. How "they" said we should discipline. Where "they" said we should take our kids for enrichment. I asked friends what they did, got advice, recalled direction and misdirection from my parents, in-laws, grandparent-in-laws and on and on.

When we started off, we took all this into account. We tried to do it by the book. But today, we roll to our own beat.

So, I kept pondering ... as the years have gone by, why DO I chose to parent my children the way I do? Why HAVE Ben and I decided to discipline the way we do; be crazy anal on what they listen to or see on TV; or ultra-conservative on who the hang out with? Chris's comment made me realize something.

Three kids into this journey, I know that I don't chose to parent my children because of what "they" say. Although, again, I admit my first parenting steps were in that direction. Instead I know we choose to parent the kids the way we do, teaching them love and respect, kindness and appreciation for the good because we want to raise kids who we want to be around.

I definitely believe what Proverbs 22:6 tells us: "Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old, he will not depart from it." But I also believe that the way we train our children today, allows for us to enjoy them TODAY. In my opinion, that is, if we are intentional in how we are training them.

Today I gladly follow in my parents footsteps with clothing choices, but it's because I think it's the right way for my children. I recall repeating to Ben something my mom and dad said to me growing up once; if I let her wear holes in her clothes now she'll most likely want to continue that fashion trend as she grows up. But if I put her in clean, conservative, preppy clothes -- more my style -- I have a fighting chance she'll grow an appreciation for the finer things in life and want to strive to achieve her own personal, harder to reach, goals.

Maybe I'm wrong or maybe I'm right. That's not the point. But my choices on what I like my kids to wear, or do, or who they hang around does reflect on their personal perception. I put them in pretty things when I can, and they feel pretty. We talk to them about loving each other and don't accept when they talk ugly to one another because I do not want to raise a child who becomes a grown up who believes it's okay to talk ugly to others.

They don't listen to lyrics about losing a boyfriend because I want my girls to not have it "naturally" ingrained that they even NEED a boyfriend. Let's let them discover that prospect when they are really old enough to have some clue on the subject.

So, here's the thing, I in no way am saying conservative is the only way to go. My definition of that and yours is subjective anyway. Nor am I suggesting that MY way beats any other different way. I'm saying my way, works for my family. It's what we believe and it's also what allows us to rear children who we enjoy being around. I think most of us who are truly in to this parenting thing, raise our kids according to our own personal standards -- not the standards of a "they." And that we probably tend to raise our kids in such a way that aspires to cultivate little creatures who we actually want to be around!

So think about that the next time you question your parenting skills. You probably already know the answer if you go back and ask yourself: If I let her get what she wants when she throws a fit now, will I really want to be around her when she is still throwing a fit at 25?

I'm just sayin' ...

To Use or Not to Use ...

Your words that is.

We're somewhat on the "conservative" side of the tracks when it comes to what we let our children say. Now this may come as a surprise to some of you who may from time to time have experienced my alter-ego ... that one without children present ... who sometimes lets the "occasional" curse word slip out.

I've always been somewhat intrigued with myself on how I can easily change from "Jenny the Cursing Sailor" to "Mary Poppins" at the sight of a child in or near the room. Not so sure what it says about me ... and this is NOT where you comment folks, but nonetheless, we are pretty strict when it comes to what we let our kids say.

For instance, I think a little child shouldn't say butt. But, yes; butt ... no. Why you ask? Well, b/c it just sounds kinda harsh when your sweet lil' bow-headed one says, "Hey I'm sitting on my butt." or "Mommy, my butt hurts." It just kills the cuteness right off.

I'm not sayin' that our alternate is better. In fact, I'm nearly positive that if she uses tooshie when she's in the 2nd grade she's gonna get beat up. But for now, that's what works for us.

But here's my problem. One of the kiddos went to a play date with a friend recently. When I picked her up, the mom told me the kids were using potty words. Now of course Kindergarten potty words equals "fart." (you just giggled didn't you?) and "poop."

Soooo, on the one hand, if it's something she knows she shouldn't say ... we should probably mention it to her. But on the other hand ... really? It's not that bad. Heck, it's not bad at all. Do I want her to go around saying fart or bootie all the time? No. But when it happens from time to time in the throws of play date fun, well, we can live with it I suppose.

I just don't want it all the time. And my concern is, you let it slip once and well, I don't know about your kids, but that seems to be to them field day on whatever grace you bestowed on them. You know, if you let that slip, then "fart" turns to "poo poo," which turns to "poop" which evolves into "crap" and eventually into "sh&t." Really, we've got to nip the fart-talk in the bud (not butt, we don't say that) ;) because it's like the gateway drug into cussing. Yeah ... pretty scary right? ;)

Moving on ...

So we try to keep the talk clean around here. But the other night, well things got a little heated with the sisters and about two hours after they should have been snoozin' like little angels, my darlings are bellowing from the top of the stairs, "MOOOOOOOO - AAAHHHM!!" Sigh. I get up from my new addiction to the Kardashians to resolve the ever-so-important debate. Which BTW was about whether George Washington wore a wig or not. (thanks upcoming President's Day holiday!) But I digress.

We got the issue resolved but we weren't finished with the drama quite yet. Next complaint lodged: Audrey called Saylah a "bootie spot." Seriously, my first reaction was to laugh. This was not my best choice. That threw the already tired 6-year-old into tears. For which I had to literally bite my lower lip as she continued through her sobs to tell me she did NOT like being called a bootie spot and then I had to try to repair the situation (really so they could go to sleep and I could go back to Kardashians). When interrogated about this offense, Audrey justified her word choice with a "well, I didn't want Saylah to be bossy."

So, I deduce that Audrey did in fact intend to call Say an itty bitty bad toddler word.

You'll have to deduce for yourself what you think a bootie spot is. Me personally, I think it's a preschooler's version of an A-hole.

Oh my ...

Tell Me: What's the worst or funniest word your motor-mouth has ever thrown out there? What did you do?