Monday, July 28, 2008

Falling asleep on the job

How do you explain to your adorable little child why you fell asleep while you were playing together?

Here's the best I could muster:

"I blinked and forgot to unblink...

Sorry! I love you, you know."

Thursday, July 24, 2008

Letting Go Experiment, Day 3, Aftershock and Summary

Note: This is my 200th post to this blog. Yikes. I think I will go celebrate by doing the dishes... or not.

Last day of the Letting Go Experiment:

Aftershock = Despite the *huge* mess from J&A's painting experience (they decided to paint the pedestal sink in the bathroom blue, acrylic paints) the day still was more fun because we had identified several things we wanted together ahead of time. The blue bathroom was a bit of a detour, a heckova detour, but the day still had the silky-sweet (hugs and kisses) quality to it that I wanted.

Experiment Summary = When the kids get to choose their MITs (Most Important Tasks) of the day, it makes them happier and more centered. I sure hope I can remember this. Writing... it down... in pen... on hand... tatooing... on forehead...

Letting Go Experiment, Day 3, LAST DAY

This is our last day just the three of us.

The big, stinky, hairy men will return home sometime in the night / morning.

Today's list of fun stuff included:

* Use gift card from grandma to get A's b-day present (finally)
* Get a new pair of Sunday pants for tall & lanky J
* Research hamster homes (the type that you can put together like Legos)
* Omega
* VT / Coquelet Cafe
* BART to YMCA
* Play at Cedar Rose park
* Scan scrapbook pages
* Play downstairs
* Go to beach
* Barnes & Noble bookstore

We started out fast and furious then got sidetracked on those boxes and boxes of delightful acrylic paints.

Soon, J & A are going to discover how much time they have spent painting and playing. Ha -- sounds like a Pop Quiz for what I wanted them to experience. Letting go. What do you do when you don't get everything you want?

Coming soon... the Aftershock.

Planets aligning

Sometimes the kids play in this certain way that makes the whole house / my whole world feel like the planets have aligned, sweet harmony, absolute beauty surrounds us.

Sounds a bit over the top? Well, dear friends, when the bar is set really, really low, it doesn't take much to get to bliss.

Today, we had our plans laid out (see next post) and there was a brief intermediate period between two tasks where I told A that should could paint her clay creations that she made yesterday. She made a little castle for the hamster and J made a low & large igloo for the hamster. I got out my four boxes of acrylic paints, slipped painting shirts over their heads and told them to go for it.

Since the sight of flying paint is hard for me to handle, I figured it would be a good time to catch up on emails and get 15, 20, maybe 30 minutes of work done. I was literally 12 feet from them, through a semi-open wall / doorway / hand-through thingy so I could hear them, but not freak out at the paint mess. Bliss. (See how low that bar is set? That's *bliss* for me.)

After 25 min, with one castle and one igloo painted lavishly, the painty, messy duo moved into the bathroom to supposedly wash their hands and their brushes. They are coming out every few minutes to ask questions like, "Can I have another bag?" and "Don't come in here quite yet, promise?"

They must have something wonderful brewing.

Since the bar is set relatively low, if I finally go into the bathroom an hour later and see the walls are painted, graffitied, or somehow they have "updated" the faucets, mirrors, or shower doors with acrylics... sigh... we'll work through it.

For now, I am content with hearing their happy voices working collaboratively on ... something.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Letting Go Experiment, Day 2, Aftershock

It worked! The kids were able to focus on their Most Important Tasks without whining about what else they could be doing. We got a lot done and had a blast doing it. There was only one situation where they had a tiff. We took the BART to the YMCA and while J & A were in Kindergym, one kid was a bit of a bully to A. J didn't do anything about it, so we worked on it tonight, role-playing and helping him get 100% on his sister's side. I have really wanted to work on that particular skill & this afternoon provided a great learning situation.

My favorite question of the day: "What does 'artistic' mean?" (That's harder to answer than it sounds!)

Aftershock = When you have a solid schedule it is far easier to be flexible, a bit of a paradox, but a beautiful one.

Letting Go Experiment, Day 2

Why on earth don't we do all our days like this??

Jee and Aee woke up happy and calm, yet energized for the day. That's *exactly* what I hope for every morning and I think it has something to do with a good night's sleep (which is heavily effected from the quality of life the day before).

So, today, the list contained:

* make playdough
* trampoline
* go get a scooter, Razor, for Aee
* do an R&D trip looking at different cat food & water bowls so J&A can make custom bowls at the pottery studio tomorrow
* go look at hamsters (to get a friend for Sammy)
* Omega Salvage (a funky cool place where we could get a chair or bookcase for JA to redo)
* go to the Animal Farm
* Cedar Rose park

We're about half way through the day now and a few minutes ago I caught myself singing "...raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens..."

These are a few of my favorite things.

Tuesday, July 22, 2008

Irony

My sister-in-law told me once, while cleaning up her house after her girls were asleep for the night, "It's far easier to keep up than to catch up." I loved that image -- just a bit of work (who are we kidding, just a lot of work) each night will stave off a really messy disaster that will take a whole weekend to clean up.

So, tonight I'm cleaning up after the day and listening to a meditation audiobook titled, "Giving Thanks". At one point in the exercise, the audiobook says,

"Know that in this moment, you have nothing else that needs to be done, nothing that needs your attention..."

I burst out laughing.

Highly unmeditative.

I had eight different things in my hands, going to five different rooms. I had my route planned out and was planning the task I would do the second my hands were free. Yes, I was in a mentally meditative state, but my body had a lot more to do, so...

"... nothing else that needs to be done..."

Irony.

Letting Go Experiment, Day 1, Aftershock

Technically, this should be called "Day 1 Evaluation" or something equally appropriate, but "Aftershock" is the more accurate word...

Jee and Aee were amazing. They both did their top three things (although Jee didn't actually get to finish his) and they did the "work" inbetween more willingly than ever before. They:

*took their baths without whining. I didn't even hear the typical question, "Do I actually have to get in the water???" (They're such cats.)

*ate unique foods at dinner and didn't complain

*did a *full* shopping trip with me without a single complaint. (This is the sound of me stunned...




...)

Usually, when we do shopping of any sort, my two little anti-consumers whine and moan, "Can we go home yet? This is So NOT Fun. This stuff is stupid. This is stupid."

The only whine that isn't too bad is when they said, "Ooooh noooo... my brain is rotting..." and they melt into the cart (or worse, the floor). That one is actually a bit funny.

The worst whine is "Are you done yet? Are you done yet? Are you done yet?" followed by, "But you said you only needed three things! This is more than three! I can count you know!" (followed by an inaudible, but still very obvious "It sure looks like you can't count" unsaid, unspoken, hanging in the air.) I have the nasty habit of saying before we go into the store, "It'll be quick; I only need three (or five or eleven) things." This particular habit is called a "habit of pre-emptive self-delusion" or at least that's what it would be called if I got to write the textbooks for Psych 101.

But, today there wasn't a single complaint. I think I may be in shock.

The survival tool I use most often in stores is to give them a +1 if they show good behavior and a -1 if they show bad behavior. It helps them grasp the continuity of the number line and it helps demarquate the terms of appropriate and inappropriate behavior. For example:

Jee: "M o m, this is so stooopid." (said in a whiny voice while pointing to any miscellaneous item in the cart)

Me: "Minus one."

Jee: (mouth shut, an important EQ skill)

On the flip side:

Jee: "Mom, can I see the list so I can help you find the next item?"

Me: "Sure, you'll get a plus one if we can find a new rug and towel together nicely"

At the end of the trip, they had a combined plus six which lead to two extra items (a hamster exercise ball and some window chalk for the car. That car can't get any more ugly. Drawing on the car's windows will be an improvement.)

The activities they chose to do were fun. They got plenty of exercise and plenty of "Ok, before we do ___ we have to do 15 min of clean up work. Okies?"

Met by, "Sure mom!"

My two favorite words of the day.

Aftershock = When people, even little ones, are in control of their lives, they are far more pleasant to be around.

Monday, July 21, 2008

Letting Go Experiment, Day 1

Aee and Jee's list of Things to Do:

1. Scan papers for memory files.
2. Play old computer games.
3. Program 1 game using the Sugar UI.
4. BART to the YMCA and play!
5. Go skateboarding.
6. Pick up Aee's plates from Brushstrokes
7. Make a water bowl and a food bowl for Cuddlebug.
8. Go to the park.
9. Go skateboard and scooter at school.

So far, it's going great! They are psyched that they have some direction and control over their day. Woot!

Switching Gears / An Experiment

Eee is taking Vee and Kee to a conference for most of this week. It will be a great guy's night, er, week out. They'll be working, but they *love* what they do, so it might as well be a vacation.

So, I have Jee and Aee and no schedule. Yet.

I am planning on doing an experiment with them. They are right at the cusp of learning how to deal with the Good, Better, Best concept and this would be a prime time to exercise it a bit. For example, when we make a list of "10 things I want to do today" they can rank the items by importance, but they are still sad when they don't do all 10. I think we'll practice the art of not doing it all.

Key concepts: Letting go / focusing on the joyful parts.

Exercise: Every morning write the top 10 things we want to do that day. Make sure we do three (or more if there's time). At the end of the day, during yoga (or maybe while making dinner) talk about how great those Top Three were and how it's OK to not do everything. Make a Memory Sheet at the end of each day showing the three things they did that were so awesome. Hum. That might work.

I don't fully understand why, but I feel like it might be an important skill for Aee and Jee to learn that it's ok to not have it all. From what I can see of my future plans, we are hoping to live lighter and lighter as the years go, so... they had better get used it while their brains are still mushy.

I want to share with them how wonderful it is to -- let go --.

The Positive "No"

I am completely enamoured with "The Positive 'No'".

When Vee and Kee were little, I took great pleasure in hearing them say a loud and resilient "No" (and stick to it) because I hoped it would translate into them being able to say a strong no to all the nasty stuff that would hit in their teen years.

I am listening to the Positive No on audiobook and it is so phenomenally validating.

This doesn't sound familiar

Growing up, I remember my friends (and me) always wishing for sweets. Candy was a treat, something good, wonderful, and desired.

So, at Vee and Kee's birthday party, I had a big spread of goodies, something that we usually only buy on Christmas and Halloween.

It was so funny -- the guys went for the pizza and some even dissed the treats.

At one point, the guys had just finished playing a high activity game and they came back into their house, looking for drinks. Most of them had water even though we had a good stock of pop (again, something we don't buy except on occasions like this). The teenagers were saying things like:

"Oh man, you're drinking pop after exercising. That's wicked. Your stomach's gonna cramp."

and

"At least have some water first. At least it isn't as bad as having the sugar hit your stomach straight."

and

"Hey, chill on the pop. You won't have enough energy to game all day if you get a sugar crash. Check it out, how many grams is in this can?"

And I'm standing off to the sidelines thinking I never heard teenagers in my generation aware of such things, let alone exerting peer pressure to monitor what they take into their bodies. The whole time I'm wondering whether or not kids like this take drugs (when parents aren't looking). They weren't completely aware that I was still standing there. Do kids take drugs who are also concerned about the number of sugar grams in a can of pop?

I could be wrong, but I doubt it.

Sneaky little boy

You know those sweet little moments that stick in your memory as if you had a video camera somewhere in your cranial mass? The memory is so sweet and precious that you hold on to it as long as you can.

One scene I really want to remember: At Vee and Kee's birthday party, they did a Capture the Flag game at a park by our home. Imagine a crowd of tall, gangly teenagers, several over six feet, all of them extremely powerful, smart young men. It was awesome seeing them play. Anyone who happened to walk by on the sidewalk stopped to watch for a few minutes. Even one friend who saw them out there emailed me about it, "You should have seen it!"

I showed up with Aee in tow about an hour after they started. Little 7 yo Jee had been with them the whole time. They were such great teenagers that they let Jee be a legitimate member of one of the teams and treated him pretty much like one of the guys. Jee ate it up.

But near the end, he apparently noticed he had an advantage. He was so much smaller than any of them that he was generally below their visual field. While they were shooting each other with Nerf guns, crossbows, and swinging their foam swords, Jee walked boldly over to the opponent's side, grabbed the flag (actually a large yellow broom) and started running back to home base.

Apparently, no one had actually scored yet, but Jee had picked up the jist of the game from hearing the guys talk. Jee had a doubtful look in his eye as he ran across the field and the broom was tremendously bulky compared to his little body, but he kept on running!

One of 6'+ guys with a heavy British accent yelled, "Hey, guys! The little bloke has the flag! Uh, guys... help! Guys... HELP!"

And Jee just kept on running except by the time he reached his home base, everyone was laughing so hard they couldn't shoot him.

Chalk one more point for the little guy.

Birthday Marathon

Vee and Kee's sweet 16 (and 17) birthday party went from 12 noon on Friday to 10 am on Saturday. Whew. I'm still tired.

It was my job to supply them with food: pizza, Caesar salads, sandwiches, chips, popcorn, cake, and of course, lots of goodies.

They had their party in the lower level of our home, usually a rental unit, but the previous tenants moved out and we haven't filled it yet with new tenants. The boys actually have their own independent house right now. I'm not completely sure how I feel about that...

For their party, Kee and I bought a big stack of new Nerf guns, cross bows, and other goodies. Their games got a bit too "big" for the house so they ran over to a park that's a block away and did a huge capture the flag game (more on that in a different post).

Back at the house they had a few rounds of games like RISK, Settlers of Catan, Mao, and Munchkin Fu. They also set up one room as "The Wii Room" and another as "The X-box Room".

I was trying to think back to what I did for my sweet 16, but I think I was in the Loire Valley at the time... I don't think I celebrated it at all. Mom and Dad, remind me if I'm remembering wrong! Eee can't remember what he did for his sweet 16 either.

Saturday, July 19, 2008

Getting the Chores Done, method 1,784

We didn't have much time to do an entire house worth of housecleaning chores, so...

We invented yet another way to get it done. By my count, this is the 1,784th time I have reincarnated the mantra: "Let's do chores this way! How fun!" (hiding grimace)

Dividing the house up by room, we spent only five minutes on each room. We glanced over the sheet that shows each task for each room (wash window, vacuum, dust, etc) and we attacked each room like a swarm of hungry hyenas.

As soon as the alarm buzzed that five minutes was up, we sat down on the newly cleaned carpet in the very center of the newly cleaned room and played a game of Blink. It's a card game based on visual pattern / color / number matching. It's a lot like Speed where the first person to play all their cards wins; no turns, just speed.

A game of Blink takes about three minutes. Shuffling before the game takes one minute. Joking around after the game takes another minute. Five minutes total to recoup and get that happy-happy-fun-fun vibe going strong.

At the end, I was utterly baffled. There was only one room that had left-over tasks after five minutes (the kitchen, always the kitchen). How on earth did we clean it that fast? Why had we taken so long in the past to clean each room?

This experience was a testament to the fact that there is massive variability into the "appropriate" length of time needed for any given task.

Reminds me of a quote I really like, from a friend, "In the absence of clearly defined goals, we become oddly faithful to trivial tasks."

The five minute time frame gave us a clearly defined goal (even with a buzzer at the end, goody!) and the promise of a game gave the kids the laser beam focus.

The pinnacle was when Eee said, "I've never had so much fun doing chores."

Woot!

Wednesday, July 16, 2008

Combat boots and blood stains

You know how, at the end of the day, you assess how the day went: "Did I do everything I needed to? Did I stay on track? What should I do better tomorrow?" You look for signs that might prove that you really did OK today, that your work was worth something.

As I was looking for my signs of accomplishment today, I realized that they included:

* blood stains on my hoodie
* a goose-egg on my head
* bruises up and down my legs

Yeah, I guess I did really get in the game, get down and dirty with the day's activities.

And I'll be falling asleep in a bed that will probably contain:

* cracker crumbs
* at least a dozen Legos
* an animal or two
* a few leftover books that didn't make it back to their spot
* papers of various shapes and colors
* a pencil (yowch! but there's always a pencil in there somewhere since it is apparently the best place in the house to flop down and do homework)

I'll be too tired to clean it off and I'll comfort myself with the thought that, "I'm sure I'll miss this when the kids are grown and gone." (But odds are that I'll just be grateful for a clean bed.)

So, you may be wondering why blood stains on my hoodie are a sign of having lived a good day?

* Because the blood came from Jee's little cheek. He scraped it while skateboarding, doing a really tough trick and I'm proud of him for trying so hard to do something difficult. Late tonight, when we were caught in the cold marina air, I striped down to my t-shirt so Jee could keep warm underneath it. His cheek was bleeding and of course, it smeared on my favorite pink hoodie. Seeing him snuggle in, appreciating the warmth and breathing in his mother's smell... It's worth a blood stain or two (or three).

* Goose egg on my head? I'm not fully sure, but I think it was from playing goats with Aee. I love telling her what it was like to grow up on a farm and how much fun it was the play with the goats. They are sturdy, funny, opinionated animals and they love butting heads, even with people. If they can push you over, they win. If you're stronger, you win. Simple, but it can be painful. I love seeing Aee laugh her mischievous little laugh when she's the stronger goat. It's worth a goose egg or two.

* Bruises because the kids are always bumping, skateboarding, scootering, rollerblading a little too close to me, usually when we're cooking dinner. We don't have a no-shoes in the house rule; we don't even have a no-skateboard/rollerblade/scooter rule in the house. Thus, we get a little banged up. That's ok. Being near my kids while I'm working, hearing them bounce off each other in their playful puppy dogs way is worth a few bruises here and there.

I was thinking tonight that I shouldn't be in shorts and slippers, I should be in combat boots to protect my legs. I know a lady from church who used to wear combat boots. She has this super welcoming smile and is the picture of enthusiasm and motherly warmth. Just the thought of her approach to parenthood helped me look past the bruises tonight to the greater good -- I got to see my kiddos today. I wasn't stuck in an office, at least for today. I was beside them, even though it was HARD.

Combat boots and blood stains. So cool.

The best part is that there are so many other parents all around me who are also going to sleep tonight surrounded by Legos and maybe a crumb or two, parents who also have bruises on their shins.

Sometimes reality bites...

You know those days when your head throbs and there are so many tasks and people calling your name that you can't slow down long enough to get rid of the headache?

So, you just put your chin down, force the corners of your mouth in a smile and Do Your Best?

Oi.

On days like this (like today) if I manage to survive it with grace intact, I reward myself in the evening by gliding over to Despair and reviewing their snarky way of pointing out our stupidities.

My favorite today is their lithograph on Change:

When the winds of change blow hard enough,
Even the most trivial of things can turn into a deadly projectile.

Ha. There's nothing like a good, honest laugh to ease away the tension of the day...

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

The Writer's Son

I love watching people, seeing how they interact with others, seeing those little twitches, nods, and wiggles that indicate oh-so-many things... It's fascinating.

On Sunday, I had the delight of observing a man (sci fi writer) and his baby in SS. The man was eating a peach or something messy, completely absorbed in chewing, staring blindly straight ahead. His baby was standing in the bench, bobbing up and down the way babies do when they have just learned how to stand securely.

The teacher asked, "Who would like to give the prayer?"

Baby raises his hand. Baby's little eyebrows go up and he has an expectant look. Someone else gets the mic and baby's hand goes down.

A few minutes later, the teacher says, "I know this is a difficult concept... I doubt that any of us really understand it... Do any of you have any ideas as to what this passage could mean?"

Baby raises his hand. Baby's little eyebrows go up and he has an expectant look. Someone else gets the mic and the baby's hand goes down.

Father completely unaware. Munch. Munch.

A few minutes later, the father finishes his meal and re-engages with his baby, picking him up and latching back on as father and son.

It was such a funny little glimpse -- this little wobbly baby wishing he could give answers to the tough questions, wishing he could say the prayer. If only someone would give him the mic!

Speed of Generational Improvements

I am a firm believer that each generation can improve on the last if:

* they learn from experience, and
* they let themselves -->go for it<--.

So, tonight we were reminiscing over what classes Eee and I had in high school and college when Kee (15 yo) pokes his fluffy, messy head around the corner:

"Do you realize that in a few months I'm going to be taking classes that are harder than anything you ever took, even including your Bachelor's degrees?"

Sizzle.

I wonder if any studies have been done showing an increased rate of improvement from one generation to the next? Everything else is speeding up exponentially, why not our learning potential?

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Programming -- Who'd have guessed?

Kee: "Hey mom, I'm going to teach Jee to program... OK?"

Me: "Uh, sure. Go for it." (oozing lack-of-confidence) Jee's only 7. How's he going to learn programming?

Kee and Jee spent *hours* programming, finished programming a game, and I overheard comments like:

Jee: "How do I speed up the response time?" (Did I say he's only 7 yo? About 45 lbs? Just this teeny, lanky little thing? How do you fit such a brain in such a teeny body?)

So, tonight both Jee and Aee had a friend's birthday party to attend. Jee didn't want to go, "But MOM, I want to STAY HOME AND PROGRAM."

He was angry.

He wanted to program.

And I was interrupting him with the silliness of a friend's birthday party.

Judging Jee's obsession with programming as a temporary anomaly, as a sign of his relatively strong tendency to stick with whatever task he is currently doing, I struck a compromise: "How about we go for 15 minutes. If, after 15 minutes, you want to come home to program, we'll leave the party and come straight home. Will that work for you?"

At first, his answer was no, but I insisted he had two choices:
1. go to party
2. go to bed

He finally said yes, but only because it gave him the option of more programming when we came home right after making an appearance.

Smart kid.

We went to the party and sure enough, at the 15 minute mark, he had a mouth full of cupcake and wanted to stay. Every 15 minutes I checked in with him and he was having fun with playing with friends.

We stayed for two hours, a respectable party time, but when we left, the consequences clicked into place, "MOM, I said I WANTED TO PROGRAM. Why didn't you hear me? I WANTED TO PROGRAM. I didn't want that party. I WANTED TO PROGRAM!"

Oh, heavens.

At least we were safely in the car on our way before it occurred to him that he had chosen to stay at the party. It took about ten minutes to get him home and into his father's care (his programmer father).

The whole time, I'm thinking: "What a horrible mom. I made my child go to a party... "

It reminds me of the time Vee and I were at Andronicos (a grocery store) buying chocolate for a particular party. Vee was reading one of those 500+ page books, reading while walking through the store. Vee was not listening to my requests for help with the grocery list.

At one point, I said too loudly:

"Vee put that book down and pick out some chocolate!!"

The little old ladies in the same aisle as us just stared and stared. They must have thought I was the worst mother ever...

"Put that book down... !"

Someday I'll look back at Jee's programming outbursts today and laugh, but for tonight I am still stunned by the intensity of his new love.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Wha...?

My younger two are attending a camp at a Jewish temple this week.

We are not Jewish, but the camps offered there are *amazing*! High quality projects, delightful instructors, and a beautiful, cheerful environment. Divine.

One of the projects was to make a kite on special, ultra-light, non-rippable kite fabric. They got to use special light-weight paint to do the design.

Aee's design looked... interesting. The drawing looked like a mix between people and flowers -- people with stems.

I asked her what it was.

Aee: "It's people on crosses. See, there are three people on crosses."

All I could think was, "Why would she be drawing crosses in a Jewish school? They surely didn't discuss the crucifixion..." Outloud, I asked, "Honey, what's this one guy here? He's not on a cross."

Aee: "Yeah, he's waiting his turn. As soon as one of these guys dies, he can get up there."

I think we might need to review a few lessons... But first I'm going to call her Primary teacher...

There is surely a GREAT story behind this one.