CityMama™

Bunny and wallie washing dishes.

Bunny and wallie washing dishes.
Originally uploaded by citymama

After we finished breakfast this morning, Bunny and Wallie hopped up to do the dishes. Bunny washed while Wallie loaded the dishwasher.

They must have really missed me when I was in Houston.

Creating a family mission statement

Recently in my Parent Journey group at my Beloved Hippie Church™, we discussed creating a family mission statement (like companies do, although Guy Kawasaki prefers "mantra") to act as a framework not only to help shape and support expected behavior, but also to act as a reminder of our own "family values."

The discussion came at a perfect time because J. and I have really been struggling lately with how to get Bunny and Wallie to be better listeners—better family members—without have to constantly goad, remind, and yes, yell at them. We were really good at laying down the law (rules) and getting the girls to follow them when a big consequence was looming (like no Christmas presents, for example), but what was lacking was the WHY that made following the rules (listen, do their chores etc) something the girls wanted to do year-round.

Why was it important that the girls listen and communicate better or help the family a little more with age-appropriate chores? We wanted to be able to show that our job as parents wasn't to make their lives miserable, but to help them be the best girls they could possibly be.

Creating the family mission statement also helped to take the focus off of rules and chores (because that's just one part of being a productive member of a family), and put the spotlight back on what it means to be a Butler.  Did we just want to raise obedient, helpful automatons? No, we want to raise caring, sentient, confident, emotionally intelligent human beings. Hopefully, having a mission statement will help us along this path.

P-O-M-E-G-R-A-N-A-T-E

"There's a boy in my class who has a crush on me," said Bunny as if she were relating any other part of her day, like whether she library or what was on the hot lunch menu. There was no silliness or emotion behind it. It just...was.

It was one of those moments when the family was all together-together, but focused on various individual projects. Her words came out of nowhere.

J. and I looked at each other then responded in a similarly nonchalant fashion asking, "How do you know?" and "Did he tell you?"

"Weeeeell, no. But he always comes over to talk to me and ask me questions. Like how to spell 'pomegranate.' Stuff like that," she shrugged.

"And that's how you know?" I clarified.

"Yes." she responded, totally sure of herself.

"Do you have a crush on him?"

I continued the banter while I futzed about in the kitchen so she didn't feel any pressure to respond, but she did.

"A tiny one." And then she smiled.

Big.

"But I'm not going to tell him, because it's just a tiny crush." She showed me how small by pinching her thumb and forefinger almost together.

And that's where we left it.

I know a time will come when she won't want to tell us anything, but I kinda hope it never does. I want her to always be able to tell us about her secret and not-so-secret crushes while I make dinner and J. sits at the dining room table reading and Wallie colors.

Dancing but not letting go (not just yet)

I've written before about how we tend to keep our kidlets a little sheltered.  They are five and seven and there's plenty of time for growing up. J. has been finding random videos of the girls when they were littler and they are so sweet and tiny, so precious and innocent, that they make me cry every time I watch them. He thinks it's weird that they make me cry, but they do. Almost to the point where it hurts to watch them.

They are only five and seven and I feel like I didn't get enough time with them when they were one or two or three or four. I want to go back in time and give their sweet baby heads one more smell.  I want to dress them in their puffy winter suits and tuck them into their strollers under warm cashmere blankets from Tata and go for a walk one more time. I want to hold them in my arms, fresh from a bath, and just kiss and kiss and kiss them. I miss them so much when I watch those videos. Maybe other mothers understand.

Now, Bunny can make her own breakfast. Take a shower all by herself. Text her papa on my phone. Remember things I ask her to tell her teacher. Make her bed more neatly than I can do it.

Wallie loves to help me cook. Asks me to turn the music louder. Writes me letters. Can finally wipe her own bum.

It's too much. Too fast.

(Except the wiping bum part. That's a welcome relief.  She even sprays the bathroom with a few quick bursts of air freshener when she's done which is also muchly appreciated.)

Recently the girls had friends over to play and as I was serving their dessert, one of the girls mentioned calories. I heard Bunny ask, "What's calories?" and I totally cringed inside. "There are good calories and bad calories and if you eat too many you get fat," her friend explained. "If you look on packages of food it will tell you how many calories something has. Then you'll know."

Bunny is very familiar with reading packages. We read packages together all the time at the grocery store but we focus on things like "iron" and "fiber."  We look to see how long the list of ingredients is.  If we can recognize any words. If something contains "high fructose corn syrup" or "sugar." She loves pointing out what's "gluten-free," since so many of her friends have allergies. One thing we don't look for is calories. My emphasis, especially because I have struggled with my weight for most of my adult life, has always been on health, and knowing what good, clean food is.

I don't want my seven-year-old to be counting calories. It's bad enough that because she's so tall, I've had endure adults commenting on her figure ever since kindergarten when she really sprouted. With parents who are 5'9" and 6'4", she's going to be a tall girl any way you slice it. I don't want her worrying if eating too many calories will make her "fat." Not in second grade. I want her to continue joyfully anticipating Saturdays, the day we walk to the farmer's market and choose our food for the week. I want her to continue wanting to go swimming or to practice yoga or to "work out" with her papa or to go jogging with me (a new habit--yes, I've been doing it for several months now so it's officially a habit).

Parenting is like a big square dance. You and your children are partners but every once in a while "Outside Influence" cuts in for a do-si-do or two.  You can allemande left and try to get back on course, but then you allemande right and suddenly your child is partnered with "Independence." Around and around the circle you go until finally your children are right back where they started, with you. Then you all go and have some punch and cookies and talk about the experience. Magical, yes, Dizzying, yes. Growing up, letting go. That, too. And I will, when it's time. Now is not the time. Not when my girls are still so small.

Hannah Montana. Kate Moss. Calories. I swear, you make me want to pick up and move to the mountains of Spain where you can't touch us. At least until Bunny and Wallie aren't so impressionable. Like when they're 40.

Note: Blogher asked to syndicate this post. I gave the okay, and they are paying me $50 for it.

Dear Santa 2009

I shake my fist at you and your commercials, PBS Kids Sprout!!!

Second grade is when you learn just how big your heart is, and Bunny, yours is SO BIG

Bunny has had a rough transition to second grade. The first month of school was brutal in the worst ways that transitions can be, but now that we're two months in, things are finally starting to settle.

It started with Bunny being upset that I picked up Wallie from kindergarten at noon, right when Bunny's class gets out for lunch recess. She'd see me walking away with her sister and felt like she was being left behind. I had to reassure her that we weren't partying it up without her while she was at school.  I explained over and over again that we went home for lunch, maybe ran some errands, then came right back to school to pick her up.

She'd cry and cling to me and I kept trying to make the transition as quick as possible so that she could get back to the play ground and her friends, but it was a mess. Parents would stop me and say, "Bunny is over at the playground fence. I think she wants to say 'hi'."  And I'd grit my teeth and sigh, "I know. I see her." We'd walk over and Bunny would melt and whine that she wanted to go home. I would give her a kiss and hug and tell her that I'd see her soon and walk away trying not to look behind me.

Seven

It's kind of scary how much she really gets it

Conversation with Bunny.

Bunny: Mamma, are you the boss of all the bloggers?
Me: No, but I am the boss of my own blogs.
Bunny: So you can make whatever blogs you want?
Me: Yup.
Bunny: I have an idea. I think you should make a blog called "Totoro Moms." Then all the moms who love Totoro like you will have a place to go and talk about how much they like Totoro.

And then I bought a domain name. I'll probably never do anything with it, but it's for her.

I'm the mother of a second grader today

Today Bunny officially became a second grader, and I officially became verklempt. How did my baby turn into such a big girl so fast?

My baby, who it seemed just yesterday was babbling and nursing and crawling, now writes us letter upon letter, keeps a diary, loves Broadway musicals and the Black-eyed Peas, has thoughtful conversations with me about life and death, and recently confessed to having a crush on the cute, little Korean boy in her class. (I know that warms her Tata's heart.)

Dearest Bunny, my first baby, my beautiful girl, I am so proud of all you have accomplished this year. You have a specialness that eminates from you that I have never been able to describe with words. To know you is to know you are truly something else. You are such an amazing person, and oh I love you!

Now let's have a great summer!

The real developmental milestones

Remember when we all hovered over our babies waiting for them to smile, sit up, crawl, walk, or talk? Some of us probably sized up our kid with all the other kids in playgroup, or constantly checked BabyCenter to see when our babies should have a pincer grasp or eat solids or be expected to sleep through the night. All those developmental milestones are encouraging to parents, but I venture to say they aren't as important as the real milestones of young childhood. Like:

Learning to wipe her/his own butt. At a meeting with teachers before Bunny started kindergarten two years ago, the teachers said that they expected the kids to be able to handle all their own potty needs. All. So the next day, I bought a box of Kandoos and went to town teaching eager-to-learn and independent-minded Bunny proper bum-wiping skills.  Two days later, she was solid. Wallie, on the other hand, refuses to even try and starts to cry when I mention it.  We have a whole summer to work on it. Wish me luck. I'm going to need it.

Clicking her/his own seatbelt. At age four, I taught my kids to click their own seatbelts. Pull, pull, pull the belt, hold it, then click. Then, pull, pull, pull it tight. For several weeks I gave a final check until I was confident that the belts were straight and tight.  My back thanked me very much for not having to lean into a car, across two kids to click seatbelts. And I admit I am a little thrown when we carpool a kid who still can't do it, so I teach him/her how. They can do it! Let 'em!

Working the TV/DVD Player/AppleTV: "Wallie, push the button that looks like a house...yes, that one...take out the DVD...put the new one in DON'TFORCEIT!...Now push the button that looks like a sideways nose, the triangle button...It'll start...NODONTPUSHITAGAIN...just WAIT...it'll start....I said wait!"  You know what?  That is BULLSHIT.  Bunny is our official AV Kid and that's how I like it.  As long as she asks permission before renting or buying any movies on AppleTV, she can pretty much run the TV viewing show in this house.  (It's not a free-for-all, they have designated TV times and have specific shows they can watch, but not having to push the TV/Video button to get the TV on the right setting to watch regular TV or DVDs or AppleTV = priceless.)