Fifth Grade...Month One

Here is the letter I sent to Ryan's therapist this afternoon....15 days into 5th grade (actually it was 13 days because he was home sick for two!)  I know this is a process...so, hopefully, keeping it all written down will remind me of all that I've accomplished by the end of the year!

Well see.....




Mr. Rick,


I just got off of the phone with the special ed teacher & principal at Ryan’s school (2 WEEKS IN, that’s a little discouraging :(!)…anyhoo… Ms. A (the special ed instructor) says that she is seeing a lot of positive changes. He’s no longer shy, or withdrawn…he’s not having meltdowns, or crying fits & appears to be expressing himself well (not always “appropriately” but he’s communicating, so that’s good). Lately (aka since day numero uno) he’s had a few kids he’s been clashing with apparently. I went to the “meet the teacher” event last week and saw one of his classmates. He didn’t appear to have downs syndrome, but he exhibited a lot of similar characteristics…he was a BIG boy, very loud, friendly, “touchy” (I realize how stuffy and uppity that sentence makes me appear L)…and I was instantly nervous. The teacher referred to the kids as “high maintenance with BIG personalities…” Sticking a kid with social inhibitions and a need for strict rule adherence into a class with kids who are loud and unpredictable? Maybe not a good choice… Apparently I’m prophetic…. The phone call was to tell me that Ryan (along with 3 other boys) would be moving to the OTHER set of 5th grade teachers on Monday. Ms. A said that Ryan had taken her aside and finally, in a matter-of-fact declaration announced….”I just hate them Mrs. A.” Once again, while not entirely appropriate, a clear step in the right direction….right? (hehe). Apparently he’s been aggressively campaigning against those kids with “evil eyes” and snarls, and snarky comments. In an effort to resolve the conflict and give everyone the best chance at a successful school year- they’re gonna move some folks around and look for a better match…

She also said that, unlike LAST year, Ryan has been much more open to receiving and asking for help. He isn’t happy about having to work on “phonics” work…he says it’s beneath him, for kindergarteners, and babies. Unfortunately, his special reading class forces him to miss Science for the first 9 weeks of school, and Social Studies for the 2nd 9 weeks. That’s especially frustrating for him, because Science is his FAVORITE thing in school, and one of his best subjects, so it continues to be a compromise that he objects to…often. SO yeah…..that’s where we are.

He seems to be doing better…communicating his issues, controlling his temper, objecting often…but not “obsessing” over things. They are making some changes in hopes of resolving his personality clashes. Hopefully heading in the right direction…

Thanks!

Cindy

How to Make a Rock (Otherwise known as "How to Illustrate the Idiom 'between a rock and an hard place' for your 10 yr old son's ridiculous English project'")

First of all, you absolutely positively should NOT wait until the day before to try and figure out what your plan is, because it's more than likely gonna involve paint...and that will need 24 hours to completely dry (that's a voice of experience talkin')!  Secondly, go to every garden store in the state to see if they sell fake rocks...seriously....there isn't a better way to invest your time.  Finally, if you, like me, are stuck between a rock and a hard place (hehe), read this ENTIRE post before you commit to proceeding.  There is no turning back.

You will need to change into some disposable clothes.  Take off your glasses if you can (because it will be difficult to get the paint off of them if you don't).  Get a card table and a tablecloth and move your project to a garage or backyard...because you're about to get messy my friend.

Because my mom is such a hoarder, we had two materials: florist foam, AND styrofoam, so my tutorial is going to cover those two mediums.  If you haven't procrastinated to the very last minute....go with florist foam.  STYROFOAM is the tool of the devil.  As soon as you cut into it (You'll need a corragated knife, it's incredibly hard, despite it's airy weight), small spores of styrofoam burst through the air like the bird flu virus.  Unfortunately, that is shortlived.  Give it 3 minutes and the static electricity your body radiates will have attracted every single spore back to your body...your hands, your hair, your family pet.  It's EVERYWHERE!  If you are working with styrofoam, my first piece of advice, dispose of it immediately and go to the Dollar Tree to pick up florist foam.  There just isn't any advantages.  If styrofoam worked really well with adhesive....it might have won me over....but the truth of the matter is:  Adhesive of any kind (tape, glue, spray adhesive, super glue, hot glue), they are all the archnemisis of any kind of foam.  (That's not important right now, but keep it in mind for the "putting your rock together" portion of my tutorial!)  And, take a second to use your foresight.  Where are you going to be drying this puppy?  Take the time to get that area set up now.

Now, before you get into this mess past your elbows, you need to get your ducks in a row (see all of those idioms I've used....thus deeming this entire project unnecessary!  anyhoo).  You will need:  FLORIST FOAM, spray adhesive (it doesn't work, but I have to believe it's worth trying), toothpicks, heavy string or twine, and that really fancy expensive spray paint that looks like "faux rock" or granite, and, lastly, a metal coathanger.

Layer up the florist foam however you want.  Stick some toothpicks on the bottom layer.  Go ahead, patronize the laws of nature and spray a little adhesive on top (remember, well ventilated area people....garage, backporch- or not, perhaps a little "high" would make this time wasted more enjoyable, your call).  Then push the next layer of florist foam on top of the last.  You want pieces of different shapes and sizes, but don't get carried away, because remember, that adhesive is NOT going to work, and you don't want it to fall apart.  Next, what I SHOULD have done, is to sand the edges of the florist foam so it didn't look so rigid. 

Now just spray the hell out of that big hunk of foam until it looks like a big stupid freakin' rock.

For MY son's project we had to do between a rock AND a hard place.  So we also made a styrofoam brick.  That was easy enough...red craft paint on a rectangle of foam.  Go ahead, let your kid paint it.  It is their project after all!  BUT it was the BETWEEN that kicked us in the ass.

We were going to have to TIE them together in some magical way that left him in the middle.  So, the next morning, I learned (and I am sharing this lesson with you) that you can NOT successfully push a wire coat hanger through eight inches of floral foam.  *remember, I told you earlier, that shit is CRAZY dense*  So I had to carefully take it apart (which wasn't incredibly difficult, because, as I said, the spray adhesive is really just for peace of mind, it serves no real purpose), thread a string through each layer, tie all of the layers together, re-position them and start the "re-pinning with toothpicks" dance all over again.  Then, the easier part, we tied the other end of the string to the faux brick, and threw the entire completed (albiet still "moist" idiom) project over his shoulders.

If it still exists tonight when I get home I'll attach a picture.

The only satisfying part of the project is that Ryan loved it.  He said that praying mantis' were the smartest of all of the insects, and they wouldn't even be able to tell that the fake brick I made wasn't the real thing.  That really made me happy.  Kids fantasize ideas of what their projects should look like without any thought as to the materials, or time, or knowledge in mind...so, to be able to come up with something that, in the end, was close to what he imagined....and not embarrassing (especially with absolutely no planning), was a huge success.

My husband, Erik, who was at Poker Night while this was all going on...his comment...."Just one brick.  I thought you were gonna make a brick wall....."

bahahaha.

E-mail from Ryan's Teacher

I am posting e-mail back and forth because I am hoping, in 15 years, when Ryan is working on his THESIS in grad school this will be a funny memory..... *fingers crossed*

Good Morning,


Sorry I didn’t get back to you yesterday. I have been fighting a upper respiratory infection, and yesterday, unfortunately….it was winning. Honestly….I don’t know what to do. Yesterday we worked on reading. I had him read the story again, out loud, to me. I found places online about the story & made him do 3 tests about the horned toad and Reba Jo. He did well, but, that being said…I would not be at all surprised to hear he failed it. We worked on spelling words. We did the practice test twice. I printed out 4 activities off of www.spellingcity.com. He did all of them, in addition to your assignments. I doubt he’ll get even half of them right.

Even after spending over 3 sometimes agonizing hours of complete one on one time with him, with absolutely no distractions, I woke him up this morning and found next to him on the floor an uncompleted worksheet about simple and compound sentences. One that I am sure was supposed to be due today, but….with getting everyone dressed & hair combed, getting my own sick self ready, and packing lunches, and snacks before I went off to work a full day—I didn’t have any more time/energy to devote to it. He also did a math worksheet. Erik asked him what a “mean” was 2 minutes after he did it….he had no idea. So, clearly THAT lesson wasn’t sinking in. We are pretty confident he just got all of the answers off of the answer key-but I was knee deep in “a deal is a deal” Reba Jo crap and wasn’t in the position to completely switch gears and devote another hour to math. I don’t know what to do. I know he’s not stupid…but any attempts at “teaching” him are in jest. I am also afraid, through HIS behavior, that he’s creating a classroom environment where he’s being labeled (probably fairly) as a jerk. And it’s not because he’s a mean kid. It’s ironically just the opposite. He’s incredibly sensitive. He just doesn’t know how to express himself, at all, and comes across as being rude and argumentative.

So, yeah. That’s where I am. I was going through his grades last night on Infinite Campus…of course that wasn’t inspiring. The only classes he’s passing he has C’s in…and honestly I think that is only because you are being generous and there were a lot of simple assignments to earn points done in class.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t mean to sound like a horrible parent by saying this, and maybe, with four kids and a husband that struggles, due to pain, to get out of bed in the morning I may very well be in WAYYYYYY over my head (that of course was being sarcasm….there is no DOUBT that I’m in way over my head)…but I am at a complete loss. I cannot devote/waste 3 hours every night to studying with Ryan. (I say waste because I question it’s effectiveness). It’s just not possible. Physically or Emotionally. And, that being said, I don’t think it should be required. I feel like somewhere, underneath all of the hypochondria, outbursts, and apathy, there is a smart little boy that is completely capable of learning everything you’re putting in front of him…I just don’t know how to reach him.

If you have any ideas/suggestions I am completely open to them.

Please let me know,

Thanks,

Cindy K.

p.s. If I said something offensive towards you I apologize (I don’t think I did….). I am not mad or frustrated at you. I think you are a great teacher, and you are doing a great job. This frustration is not at all a result of anything you are saying or doing- it’s simply the result of years and years of me thrusting my head into a brick wall with no positive outcomes (and being sick). Sorry :(

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sent: Wednesday, September 07, 2011 11:51 AM
To: Kilmark, Cindy K

Subject: Hi

Hey! Boy we have had a rough morning! Ryan has been very argumentative with not only me, but others in the class. I finally gave him the choice to do what he needs to do or write the school code. I came back to check on him and he was still arguing with the group he was supposed to be working with, so now he has the school code to write. He is supposed to have you sign it tonight, so please be on the lookout for that.

We found his behavior report today, it went home with his neighbor, so he will have that tonight as well.

I wanted to check with you to see if he gave you all the fluency packet I sent home with him yesterday. His DIBELS score was 73, and our beginning of the year benchmark in 4th grade is 93. I noticed that he took a big drop from his end of the year score from last year, so we are going to work hard to get it back up there. He needs to be at 118 by the end of the year and I think he will be able to do it. This packet will come home each week to help him practice at home. It really helped out the kids last year, and it also will help him with comprehension.

Finally, Ryan has been eating cookies and drinking a kool-aid drink int the morning the past couple of days. I asked him if it was from his lunch and he said it was his breakfast. I don't have a problem with him having his breakfast in the class, but I wasn't sure if he was supposed to be eating that, so I wanted to check with you. Just let me know. Thanks!!


Mrs. Fourth Grade Teacher

What have you done for ME lately?

Oh my goodness, I haven’t typed in this journal for a long long time! Almost a year. That’s really sad because that means that there is a year of memories missing. Actually, not quite a year. I think I have added an entry or two to my online journal, I will just have to paste them over.

Here is an e-mail I received this morning from my husband:

Good morning my love!

You said that you like having e-mails waiting on you in the morning, so I thought I'd drop you a little note to tell you how beautiful you are!!

Thanks for putting up with me.

Love,
Me

Yesterday our electricity got shut off and he had a panic attack. I borrowed 236.19 from Mom (to be paid back on Friday) and it’s all back to normal now, no one even knows any different. But he takes things like that very personally. It messes with his pride. I don’t think of situations like those as “big deals.” When the problem is clearly identified, and we know specifically how to fix it. That’s no reason to panic. Now if the electricity was off, we didn’t know why, had no idea who to call, or how much it was going to end up costing….that would make me nervous. But Indianapolis Power and Light? I knew what they wanted and how to reach them—no problem there. I just made a couple of calls and, “Vióla, problem solved.” All of that being said, I DO need to make a budget. Erik takes all of this on himself and it’s not fair. We need to be working together. He takes all of this pressure onto himself because, by not stepping up and assuming responsibility for things, I am leaving him with the impression that I expect him to take care of it. Which isn’t true of course, I don’t expect him to “take care of it,” just to let me know what he needs….which is, to him, equal to walking around the neighborhood in a woman’s brassiere and thong unfortunately.

Ryan is taking electric guitar lessons. He has had 3 lessons so far. He’s going to a guy named Phil Pierle at “All About Music” (or something like that) on the corner of Emerson and Thompson. It’s kind of pricy…it runs about $18/per lesson. He is having his 30 minute lessons on Tuesday evenings at 7:30 p.m. He got an electric guitar for Christmas (a black Fender) and has been begging for lessons ever since, and, I have to say, he seems like a natural to me.
I have been to as many lessons as him of course (being his driver and all) but I just don’t get it. Phil just has to say “G” or “F” and Ryan is strumming like he knows exactly what he’s asking for. He doesn’t even have to say it any more, he just points to the paper and Ryan READS what to do. It’s insane. He knows that this note on this line means you have to put these fingers here and strum across these specific strings. CRAZY. He’s even learning how long it says to hold that note. Although he tends to rush through the counting though. I’ve listened to everything his teacher has said and it doesn’t make any sense to me. It’s almost like my brain just rejects that information. It’s like trying to walk through a closed door. I am right with you……and then…….BOOM. Closed door. I no longer have any idea what you are saying.

I should probably comment here on Easter this year. It was on Sunday, April 12th this year (2009). It was really sketchy for a minute. Grandma Cook fell and scratched herself up really bad a month or 6 weeks before so she wasn’t quite sure if she could host Easter this year, which left all of us in a panic thinking about what back up plans we should have in place for the inevitable day when she isn’t well enough to host it (she is in her 80’s now). But she is ok now.

I went overboard on the baskets AGAIN this year. Picking up little stuff here and there since Valentine’s Day, and then, I go to put it all together, and it’s chaos. Movies, candy, yo-yo’s, bubbles, paper grass (because plastic grass is the spoils of lucipher), balls, magnifying glasses, gift cards—and yet I still feel guilty for not getting kites, sunglasses, and sidewalk chalk. Isn’t that funny? I wonder if we had a lot of stuff in our Easter baskets when we were little. I bet everything was more expensive and harder to find!

look ma, no hands!

monday, march 31, 2008

Ryan rides bike for the first time without training wheels.

ryan, bike

easter 2008

My goodness, it’s been a long time since I’ve written! Last weekend was Easter, so we all went to visit my Grandma Cook in Illinois. We stayed at the Baymont Inn and Suites. Usually we stay at the Holiday Inn Express, but it was booked. Honestly I don’t think it made a difference. We all stayed at the same place, so that was nice. When I say all of course I mean Beth, Russell & family; Abbie, Carl & family; and Amy, Rodney & family.

We went to the Children’s Museum of Illinois in Decatur, Illinois. It’s usually a toss up between the Children’s Museum and Scovill Zoo, depending on the weather. The kids LOVE the museum. It’s a nice size. There is lots of role playing/hands on stuff for them to do. It’s just enough to keep them interested for a while (various age groups) and not overwhelm them. I think that my favorite part is the make believe town area. It cracks me up. There is a little grocery store (complete with dairy, produce and milk sections), cash registers, play money, and little carts. It’s so cute to see your kids walk up to the register like little grown ups and unload their mini grocery carts. There is also a post office adjacent to the store. It has mail slots complete with addressed letters that need to be sorted, a mail box, scales to weigh packages…even a little honorary postmaster badge and mail carryin’ sling. Too cute. And, there is a bank. It has a drive up window, a safe, a calculator and debit lookin’ machine. There are deposit slips, checks. It’s pretty extensive in its detail. I have heard that the Children’s Museum in Cincinnati I think is this same concept but much more elaborate. I think that in the next few years we will have to make a point to go there, because even though they love a lot of the exhibits at the Children’s Museum in Illinois I think that this is the one that uses the most imagination that they have the most fun at.

After the Children’s Museum we drove around a lot. I showed the kids Millikin University (where I went to college my sophomore year), the ZTA house on the corner of Main St. and Decatur St. (the sorority that I rushed). I also drove them by the Family Drug on the South side of Decatur Lake where I worked in college to pay my bills.

We swam in the pool when we got to the hotel. Of course Olivia had a life/death experience. She is a very eager swimmer, although she isn’t as fearful as I sometimes would hope. When she has her life jacket on I have no problem with her swimming and jumping back and forth, but, when she uses the bathroom sometimes the whole “putting the jacket” back on escapes her and she jumps in sans floatation devices. Luckily she’s a good enough swimmer that she can tread water until she realizes her error and someone saves her. This time it was a nice stranger staying at the hotel who happened to be relaxing in the pool. DON’T JUDGE ME, I was on my way over….he was just right there so he grabbed her quicker 

The kids all slept well. And, the evening before Easter, I met with my sisters (Beth, Amy and Abbie) in the lobby with our bags full of goodies to fill Easter baskets-while eating Monical’s Pizza of course! Which reminds me, I still owe my sister Beth about $10. I better put that down in writing because even though I will quickly forget, she will keep it in her mental log book forever…. It was funny because before Ryan even unwrapped everything in his basket he was negotiating up and down the hall with his cousins, trying to use what he had gotten to get what he wanted!

We then went to Grandma Cook’s to eat lunch, visit with family and have the Easter egg hunt. Grandma’s house is REALLY crowded (3 bedrooms and 1 bath) so we always pray for good weather to allow us to spread outside. Not this year though, for the first time for as long as I can remember it snowed while we were out there hiding eggs. Big white fluffy flakes. It didn’t deter us though; the Easter Egg hunt went on as usual.

The only thing that I can remember that went wrong is that Ryan forgot an entire small suitcase full of his stuffed animals (I think about 11, mostly pigs) and Grandma had to mail them to us. We had told him not to bring them, but alas, it was inevitable. How Grandma got that many swine in a little 11 x 13 x 4 box will always amaze me……

This year Easter was on March 23rd, which also happened to be Erik’s birthday. I got him a DVD (Harold and Kumar goes to White Castle) and some slippers that he LOVED from Pamida, but I don’t think that he was very happy, or impressed. That night when we got home and collapsed in our own bed, completely tired and exhausted, he solemnly asked me, “Why don’t you every do anything for my birthday? I know that you are nice to me everyday, and I really shouldn’t even complain……but it just hurts my feelings…..”

The truth is…… I just don’t care. God, written out that sounds terrible…. What I mean is, birthdays just don’t mean a lot to me, so the fact that they sometimes mean a lot to others eludes me. Wow, that doesn’t sound much better. Truthfully when it comes to Erik I have a lot of ideas. Another backscratcher. A pedi-egg. A neck pillow. An I-Pod. A gift card to Best Buy. A new grill. Grilling accessories. A gift certificate for a massage. A cool/awesome electric razor. A pair of hair trimmers. Clean out, organize, and insulate/drywall the garage. But all of these things take money, which I never have. And the creative, non-expensive solutions that sound fun at first thought, become cheesier and cheesier as time goes by, thus leaving me giftless ( and without an explanation) on the special day.

And, in my defense, he’s not exactly great all the time either. When I was scheduled to be induced on 2/13/04 with Olivia and Rebekah he had a huge tax refund check in his pocket and still didn’t bother to stop at the sale table outside of the hospital gift shop to buy me a Valentine’s Day Present*—after I had given birth to not just one, but TWO of his children. I, in turn, had bought cards for him, Chelsea, and Ryan, in anticipation of Valentine’s Day the day after my delivery.

And I am nice to him EVERY single day. I send him nice notes. Drowned him in compliments. Fix him his favorite meals. Buy him ice cream. Let him sleep in. Rub his feet. I would quickly say to another, within earshot of Erik, that I spoil him a bit.

But, irregardless of that, this whole gift thing is clearly a hot topic for him. Christmas was the same last year. Money was tight. I said no gifts. Everything was going to the kids. He bought me a $20 coffeepot with a timer and carafe from Wal-Mart, I got him nothing—as agreed. Who do you think was the scrooge? Exactly!

Anyway, as I said, he was disappointed that I didn’t get the parade together on his birthday (of course I am exaggerating, lol) so I had to redeem myself, after the fact. So, with help from his best friend Chris, and his wife Amy, I was able to schedule a surprise 38th birthday party on Saturday, April 5th. It was a success. There were a lot of people. Not everyone that I had hoped, but enough to make it fun. I made little smokies wrapped in bacon and dipped in brown sugar, and spicy buffalo chicken dip. Amy made pulled Italian Beef sandwiches (see drive in entry on 7/7/2008 for the recipe!) It was a good time. He was completely shocked and surprised. Unfortunately I had to leave early because I had a nasty migraine that made me start getting sick—or maybe it was too much Buffalo Chicken dip . But he got see some friends and spend some time sans kids, so that’s always good. That was his gift. A few hours with his old friend Independent Erik.

*side note: He did, with the tax check the next year, get me a kick ass digital camera and printer. And has also gotten me an I-pod that I adore. So when he has money, like me, and almost everyone in the free world, he does o.k.

Easter 2008

A once in a lifetime experience!

Easter is always the 1st Sunday after the 1st full moon after the Spring
Equinox (which is March 20). This dating of Easter is based on the lunar
calendar that Hebrew people used to identify Passover, which is why it moves
around on our Roman calendar.

Here's the interesting info. This year is the earliest Easter any of us
will ever see the rest of our lives! And only the most elderly of our
population have ever seen it this early (95 years old or above!). And none of
us have ever, or will ever, see it a day earlier! Here are the facts:

1) The next time Easter will be this early (March 23) will be the year 2228
(220 years from now). The last time it was this early was 1913 (so if you're 95
or older, you are the only ones that were around for that!).

2) The next time it will be a day earlier, March 22, will be in the year
2285 (277 years from now). The last time it was on March 22 was 1818. So, no
one alive today has or will ever see it any earlier than this year!

Papa's chocolate chip cookies

E-mail from Pauline Dahlke, Ryan’s kindergarten teacher. She was responding to Ryan bringing in a chocolate chip cookie that he and Papa made….

Hi Cindy,
I wanted to let you know about the cookie that Ryan brought in on Thursday.
He handed it to me and asked if we could share it and I so badly wanted to say "yes" but told him we'll talk about it later. Then I ended up leaving to pick up my daughter from school who was sick. On Friday, time flew and I didn't get to talk to him. Now it's Monday and I still haven't said anything but according to the school rules, we can't have anything that is homemade. The cookie looks so good but we just can't eat it. I was wondering if you want me to send it back with Ryan or whatever sounds good to you. Let me know.
Thanks
Pauline

world's best coach

From: Margery Cook
1/14/2008 3:30 pm

Subject: Colts

I asked Ryan if his dad went to the Colts game. He said "no, he was home and he just pretended he was at the game and told them what to do. My dad is the best player. If he was there he would teach them how to win." Cute!

Ryan's first kiss...almost

E-mail from Ryan’s kindergarten teacher, Ms. Dahlke:

Sorry it is taking me so long to respond. This year seems so much more hectic!
Fall Party-we will be having one on Halloween. I still call it a Halloween party and we make a witches' brew. I'll be asking for donations when we meet for Parent/Teacher conferences. We do try to avoid allergy foods such as peanuts. There are 26 students, including Ryan.

Roller skating-I sent a copy home a few days ago so I hope you got it.

It is good to hear Ryan likes school. I enjoy having him in my class. :) He has many friends and sometimes, talks about a girlfriend. I do discourage that but I will have to tell you, I had to break up an almost kiss on the lips between Ryan and Jeanna. I told them that we can't kiss in school. It was cute but you know how that goes.

I look forward to seeing you again in a few weeks!

Pauline Dahlke

chivalry isn't dead

E-mail from Nana:

Ryan said he needs to bring his teacher lunch money.

She said "bring me lunch money every day" so he thinks it's for HER lunch. Bahaha.

Love

Mom

ryan, school

that kid....

The nurse from Ryan's school called me today to pick him up. She said he had a low grade fever and had thrown up all over the classroom. I called Erik and he was devastated. He was afraid that from here on out Ryan would be known as "that kid." I reminded him that it doesn't matter because, like Chelsea, he will probably change schools a dozen times due to re-districting and starting new grades. (So far, in the sixth grade, Chelsea has been to four schools....one for kindergarten, elementary school, another elementary school-redistricting, intermediate school.....then she will have middle school, freshman center, and high school!)

This is the response from Ryan’s kindergarten teacher, Ms. Dahlke. My e-mail apologized for Ryan getting sick at school that morning…and asked how he was doing in school.

Tuesday 9/4/2007 3:20 PM

Don't worry about him getting sick! He did end up throwing up some more in the waste basket. Poor thing-I know throwing up is no fun :(

I hope he feels better. Ryan is kind of quiet in class but he does enjoy talking to a few kids, like Eric and Jeanna. He plays well with all the kids and I sometimes have to remind him to stop talking in the whole group situation. I can tell he has quite an imagination because I think he gets caught up in ideas when I tell him to stop talking. He is working well in class but his table, and I believe it is table location, has trouble paying close attention. I had to add another table to the classroom due to more students and since we are limited on space, his table has a harder time paying attention. They seem to get caught up more in conversation. I haven't seen him get frustrated but we also are working on things that are familiar with kindergartners, such as shapes, families, colors, etc. He appears to have a positive attitude so I am excited to see him grow and change as the year goes on. I enjoy having Ryan in class...he was able to do a chin up on the playground, which I think he felt pretty proud of.

I hope I answered your questions. Tell Ryan we missed him and we hope to see him tomorrow or the next day!

Pauline Dahlke

I thought that was interesting. I've never really thought of him as being that "social." He is more laid back and quiet....I thought. That's good though. I mean I don't want it to interfere with his learning of course but making friends is a very important skill. In my mind just as important as some of the academic lessons that he will learn. It will be very interesting in a few years to look back on and see what changes he’s made…that and it’s my duty, as a parent, to document for posterity’s sake all of the embarrassing moments that I have knowledge of.

Erik brought him to the Dr. that afternoon and apparently he just had a cold. Nana thinks that maybe he got an upset tummy from taking cold medicine before school on an upset stomach. No ear infection, no flu, and he was absolutely fine the rest of the day.

It was funny though, because on the way home from picking him up I asked him where he got sick. He said, "On the floor, by the calender, and by my friend." "You didn't hit your friend did you...because if you did he might just not be your friend anymore," I said. He said he has TWO friends. And no he didn't hit him. I asked him their names. He said he didn't know. They hadn't told him yet. Too funny.

the tooth fairy

Ryan- 6 years, 2 months (lost 1st tooth)

Ryan lost his first tooth. About a week ago he ran into my room excited and nervous because his “tooth was shaking.” He was really excited about it. I told him that he wasn’t allowed to lose it. And if he lost his tooth before his very first picture day I would glue it back in…but he wiggled it nonetheless. He lost it at school and was very excited when I picked him up at Nana and Papa’s that day. He had it wrapped in toilet paper and carried it carefully in a ziplock baggie. But then it wasn’t even talked about for the rest of the night…so needless to say the tooth fairy kind of “dropped the ball.” It wasn’t until the next day when he came grumbling out to the car that I realized what he was upset about. I brought him the dollar bill she left, and explained that she had put it on his t.v. so it wouldn’t get lost. It didn’t satisfy him though…he only got a dollar, and apparently Ben Ben got TWENTY FIVE CENTS! I've attached a picture of his new imperfect smile.

It reminded me a little bit of when Chelsea lost her first tooth. We put it on the dresser so it wouldn’t get lost and in the morning we saw what the toothfairy had done. It was a big tadoo with a card from the toothfairy congratulating her on doing such a great job brushing her teeth, and sugarfree gum, and $5. The next time she lost a tooth we put it under the pillow, as is custom, and she got a dollar. And then the third time, when it was time to leave the tooth again, she said she didn’t want to leave it under the pillow, she wanted to leave it on the dresser. Because when she left it on the dresser she got $5, gum and a card….but when she put it under the pillow she only got $1! Like there was a secret spot in the room that inspired the tooth fairy to be more generous! It was priceless.

first day of school

Ryan starts kindergarten today. His teacher's name is Ms. Dahlke. She seems very nice. 13 years experience. Very pretty, exotic asian features. Probably a size 2 after a HUGE meal. It makes me sad. I don't want him to give HER a marry ring too! I was willing to share my proposal with Nana but that is enough! I know, it's pathetic, I treat this teacher like the "other" woman. But she is! She's taking my baby away. She is going to be spending more time with him than me. She is going to teach him to read, so he won't need me to tell him the directions on his playstation games anymore. He's already taking showers! He doesn't need "mom" to wash his hair anymore. He can make a hotdog by himself in the microwave. He's stopped playing with "piggies" as much.....he's just growing up before my eyes and it makes me sad :-( As soon as he learns to make chocolate milk by himself and do his laundry he will have no use for me anymore :-(

Erik made me laugh. Ryan has kind of made up his own "sign language." Milk in ASL is taking your fist with the thumb up and squeezing, kind of like you are milking a cow. Ryan only drinks chocolate milk, so his "sign" for that is to also take his other fist with the thumb pointing down, place it on top of the first, and squeeze it too....in unison with the bottom one. To respresent the chocolate syrup being squeezed on the milk. We just take it for granted I guess, because he does it all the time. Every night he comes up to me squeezing both hands and I know....he wants chocolate milk. Erik said the other day, "I wonder what the lunch lady is going to say when Ryan goes up to her and asks for chocolate milk with his hands, lol!"

The girls are very sad that they aren't starting school. Well, more Bekah than Livy. She walks around talking all the time about her "cool" (school). She said that she needs a "pack pack" (backpack). She called nana the other day and told her that she needed to find her "flippers" (ballet slippers) because she would need them on her first day. I went ahead and bought both her and Livy folders with kittens on them to bring to Nana's house and told her that Papa would be her teacher. She's started calling him "Mr. Papa. " I don't know if she's going to buy it, but it's distracted her a bit.

I picked him up this afternoon. Erik said he told him he had, "the best day of his life." I don't know if I believe that....he's had quite a few great days with me! Anyway...this is the conversation we had in the car after I picked him up on the first day:

MOM: Do you have any friends?
RYAN: Yeah, one boy.
MOM: What's his name?
RYAN: I don't know his name, he speaks Spanish. Only
once. I don't know
how to speak Spanish.
MOM: Did you ask him?
RYAN: Yeah, he said Spanish.
MOM: Is that little boy your friend?
RYAN: Yeah
MOM: How do you
know?
RYAN: He told me it. The boy just made a friend with me, duh. I didn't
make a
friend with him.
MOM: So he's not your friend?
RYAN: Yeah.
MOM: He is your friend?
RYAN: No.
MOM: Why not?
RYAN: I don't
take crying people for my friend.
MOM: Did he cry.
RYAN: Yeah, he cried
two times.

He also learned a song about the library. It was cute. He brought his Buzz Lightyear lunchbox to school....Papa made his
lunch....peanut butter and jelly sock 'em in the belly, goldfish, cookies
and
chocolate milk. He said they had yummy muffins for breakfast, and the
cafeteria
sells chocolate milk, so that was good. When he got home he had a
HUGE
breakdown, but it's expected I think, he had a BIG
day!

Today is Nana's 61st birthday so we will have having
cake and ice cream soon and heading home.

our new pet

Well, so far Ryan has caught a cricket, a lightening bug, and a caterpillar this summer to be his pet....his best friends. The cricket got dumped in the car (he may still be there, eating cold french fries that fell under the car seat...), the lightening bug died in a tragic container lid incident, and the caterpillar is petrified in the jar it came home in.....in hopes that it's just "hibernating." I know, it's disgusting, I plan on throwing it away when he stops checking on it.... SO, FINALLY, we gave in and got him a real pet. We are allergic to everything in this house, so we settled on a hamster. Of course Ryan got the one with the beady red eyes....the only one we weren't excited about....but it seems to be working out well. It doesn't make much of a mess, stays to itself, climbs around and nibbles on their hands when we let it make an appearance. I put it in the ball tonight when Erik brought the kids to practice in hopes that it could roll around a little bit in peace. BUT ALAS, it tried to make a break for it! I went to get the camera and the ball was on the floor, with the lid 10 inches away, and Buzz (or Dash, or Buddy, or whatever it's name is) was trying to crawl under the closet door in the foyer! That was a CLOSE call! Ryan would have never forgiven me! Anyway, here is the picture you have all been waiting for....

kindergarten

Ryan starts all day kindergarten on Monday.

Last week we went to Kohl’s and he got to pick out his first book bag. It’s Spiderman, and it comes with a mini-skateboard that attaches itself with a strap to the front. He thinks it’s very cool. At first he was leaning towards the “Buzz Lightyear” one but it had wheels and that wasn’t allowed. He is keeping his Buzz Lightyear lunchbox from preschool last year. He is such a picky eater I don’t know if he’s going to be eating in the cafeteria this year. They offer free breakfast at his school and they bring it to his classroom in a crate….juice, milk, and a muffin or whatever. They can eat one or all of the selection. Hopefully if he sits down and sees the other kids eating he might try some new things too. But lunch, I don’t know. He’s pretty particular. He has invented his own “sign language” of sorts for different things. Milk in ASL is taking the left hand, making a fist, and squeezing it….like milking a cow. So, since Ryan always wants chocolate milk, he created a new sign. It starts out the same, with the left fist squeezing, but then he added a right fist squeezing over the top of the left fist (to represent the bottle of chocolate syrup being squeezed into his sippy cup). Of course to our family this has become common knowledge, but Erik the other day said, “I wonder how the lunch lady is going to react the first day Ryan walks up to her and uses his hands to ask for chocolate milk?!?!?!?!?!”

His teacher’s name is Ms. Dahlke. She seems very nice. 13 years experience. Very pretty, probably a size 2 after a HUGE meal. She has some erotic Asian features, dark thick black hair, a “cute” personality that I am sure lures 5 and 6 year old boys into adoring her. It makes me sad. I don’t want him to give HER a marry ring too! It took a lot of time for me to adjust to sharing my proposal with Nana. I know, it’s pathetic; I treat this teacher like the “other” woman. But she is! I don’t want to share Ryan! She’s taking my baby away. She is going to be spending more time with him than me. She is going to teach him to read, so he won’t need me to tell him the directions on his play station games or read his birthday cards to him anymore. He’s already taking showers! Well, not your typical showers. He still sits down in that bathtub and plays with toys; he just does it under a raining shower head instead of sitting in a bath. He doesn’t need “mom” to wash his hair anymore. He can make a hotdog by himself in the microwave. He’s stopped playing with “piggies” as much…..he’s just growing up before my eyes and it makes me sad. As soon as he learns to make chocolate milk by himself and do his laundry he will have no use for me anymore L He’ll have jokes that I don’t understand. He will have friends that I’ve never met. He’ll learn words that I haven’t taught him (some good/some bad). He’ll have a whole myriad of experiences that will help to mold and shape him into the person he’s going to become, and my influence will become only one of many.

Tonight I have to plug in my camera and download all my pictures so that I will have room to take all the pictures I need for posterity’s sake on Monday. Pictures of him in front of the school sign, with his beautiful teacher. I don’t remember this being so difficult with Chelsea. Probably because she came out of the womb so independent. I wonder if it is going to be so difficult with the twins. I way over bought clothes for Ryan, but I want him to be cool. I want everyone to like him. I want him to enjoy school……….I will just miss him. Oh my god, I am already crying like a baby and it’s not for 3 more “sleeps.” (Sleeps= nights before something). I remember talking to mothers and thinking how embarrassing and upsurd it was for them to cry when their kids start school. What’s the big deal? Now I know. After Monday I will have to start preparing myself for the first “sleepover” I imagine. It’s good for me to write all of this down though, in 9 years when he’s 15, starting his freshman year I will be obsessing about the drama of puberty and a driver’s permit…..and these thoughts will all be a memory.

The girls are very upset that they aren’t starting school. Well, more Bekah than Livy. She walks around talking all the time about her “cool” (school). She said that she needs a “pack pack” (backpack). She called nana the other day and told her that she needed to find her “flippers” (ballet slippers) because she would need them on her first day. I went ahead and bought both her and Livy folders with kittens on them to bring to Nana’s house and told her that Papa would be her teacher. She’s started calling him “Mr. Papa. “ I don’t know if she’s going to buy it, but it’s distracted her a bit. Maybe I can print them out some color sheets with different letters and colors to keep in their folders.

Chelsea is ready for school too. I found a lot of bras on clearance at JcPenney’s the other day, so that was great. She still needs some underwear I imagine, but other than that I think she has enough to get started. I don’t remember my mom ever buying me bras. I guess she probably had too, but I don’t remember it. I had two older sisters so maybe I just got hand me downs. I know for a fact I didn’t get a special shopping trip every fall just for “school clothes.” I got $100 for my birthday in September and she let me use that towards school clothes. I guess that made me lucky, because my little sister’s birthday was in March. I was always so jealous of those kids whose first 2 weeks was a fashion show. Walking in on their first day with new backpacks, pencils with no teeth marks, flawless pink pearl erasers. Their confidence and excitement radiated so much it almost distracted from their blinding white shoes. I remember one year being sent to school with just a pencil…..my mom said I wouldn’t need anymore than that the first day. I am sure I probably got more supplies later, after the next payday, but the first day a pencil was all I had. She was probably right. We probably didn’t reach into our desks for anything else that first day; or if we did I just borrowed from my friend, but I never forgot that. Maybe that’s why I am so zealous about school supplies. I have a whole tote of extras. I buy for my little sister’s daughters. Whenever there is a sale for 5 cents, or 15 cents, I grab whatever the limit is….crayons, paper, pencils, pens, rulers, hole punchers…..whatever. Sort it out later. Don’t get me wrong, I am not upset with my parents or feeling sorry for myself. It just was what it was. I think I of course have a much better understanding of poverty now that I have 4 children myself. Enough of an understanding to know how lucky WE were as kids, and how lucky I am now. Heck, the school fees alone here in the State of Indiana are horrible. Chelsea and Ryan’s were a hundred dollars each before they walked in the door….and if Chelsea still wants to be in band somehow I have to come up with $125 for her Tuba mouthpiece, music stand, and instruction book. I imagine when Olivia and Rebekah start kindergarten, Ryan starts third grade, and Chelsea starts high school, we will have to take out a small loan! It will be like Christmas in August. And then the winter coats! And Halloween costumes! And Christmas! Anyway, I am sure even with Chelsea’s new shoes, new bras, new t-shirts and capri’s she will still look around and be jealous of the kids with brand name stuff on. It’s just the hierarchy of pre-teen girls.

ryan, dahlke, first day of school, kindergarten, school, money, school supplies, sign language

e-mails

Here are some emails that a couple of girlfriends and I sent back and forth today, I put a lot of thought into my responses and think that A) it says a lot about me and my state of mind right now, and B) might be helpful for myself to look back on someday when I need that advice!

To Angie re: having a bad day

I am so sorry that you had such a bad day. Some days are just like that! I had a yucky day too. I just cried and cried and cried off and on all day. Anyway, I started my period, I have only $16.42 in my checking account until Friday (I couldn’t even get a drink at Starbucks, I had to get all parched and then suck down the warm diet cherry coke I had left in the car when we were done at yoga last night—although of course I didn’t tell ANYONE that!). The little light on my gas tank came on when I pulled into work, so I am going to have to use most of that $16 to get some gas to keep me going until Friday morning. I had some leftover pizza when I got back last night, only to discover that Chelsea had broken a glass on the counter earlier that evening and the secret topping in my pizza wasn’t really hard/gritty onion, but instead shards of glass, lol. I suspect she is trying to kill me, hehe. I guess she didn’t succeed, because I haven’t had any side effects as of yet……..btw, if you happen to run into a dr. today at work ask if small pieces of glass can slowly kill you or rip apart your intestine, lol. And I guess tonight I will have to write a bad check to Hungry Howies (because I have no food and they take DAYS to process their checks). OR, go to Kroger, buy some groceries, and write the bad check for $20 over the amount so I can have some gas money too…..Kroger takes about 3 days too, so I MIGHT just get away with it.

Hope you have a better day today!

Have faith in yourself, you know what’s best for your son. You are a great mom.

Be nice to your husband [a police officer] (I like him, and he carries a gun, lol).

Men are jerks sometimes. I mean, we mothers can’t be perfect ALL the time for goodness sakes! Even God took off the seventh day! It always amazes me how Erik never notices me juggling 1200 balls effortlessly, but is so quick to stop the world from rotating on its axis if God forbid one hits the floor. Don’t let your husband make you feel bad for dropping the ball….make a point to recognize all the great things you accomplished this week, heck….even just today.

But seriously, time will fix all of these problems. Just “keep swimming.”

To Melissa re: Happy Birthday

The kids are doing fine. Chelsea has registration tonight. She is just “itching” to buy all her school supplies and stuff. We can’t even start until we know what class she is in because each room is so freakin’ specific. Sometimes it makes me wonder if they are all teaching the same curriculum. How come one needs a protractor and the other needs a disposable camera? Ryan has a “meet the teacher” on August 8^th. It’s not for the kids though, just for the parents. I have to bring in his school supplies and stuff (which is good because they have to bring in SOOO much stuff-I didn’t want to send it all in on that first day). I went with him the other day and let him pick out his backpack. He got a Spiderman one with a mini-skateboard. What a little man! The other day I brought him and and his cousin to Burger King and to see Ratatouille (great movie by the way-Finding Nemo good) and I stopped at Target to get their pics taken—my little men, getting ready to start kindergarten! They are so cute! Flexing their muscles and stuff.

Chelsea, well…..she’s just Chelsea. Drama. Drama. Drama. Sometimes I think her entire world is a stage and her family is just the inadequate understudies she got stuck with. It’s as though she has some invisible script that no one else can see…..and we just keep have to keep doing the same scene over and over and over again until we get the lines right and complete it to her satisfaction! The arguments are so ridiculous, and redundant. Usually it’s her attitude and tone, which of course is a gray area that pre-teens like to exploit. I can’t PROVE that she rolled her eyes, so in her mind she can’t be called out for it. I think it will be a close race in the end….her graduating from high school alive, and me keeping my sanity. I just hope there is enough left to struggle my way through the other three’s adolescence.

HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Mine is coming up September 22^nd. I pretty much have put it on the calendar as being a sucky day. It’s not as though anything catastrophic happens to make it horrible, but any not so great thing is WAY exaggerated when it happens on your birthday. That is the day you were born. The day the world changed. There should be parades, ballads, sonnets for Christ’s sake! People should be reflecting on how your birth changed their lives (the world at large) and singing your praises. They should be thanking you, honoring you. It should be the one day a year when you are not taken for granted-----BUT, it’s not. And it won’t be. Probably ever. Put it on your calendar as just another day, cause truth be told…..your kids (and maybe even your husband), they aren’t thinking about the enormous ramifications of your birth and how thankful they should be that you came into their lives—they are just wanting cake! And probably, in your husband’s case, sex. You have to make this day special, if not “today” then some day soon. Do something for yourself. Ask your mom to watch the kids at your house and go to hers to take a nap. Call a friend, ahem, and schedule a movie. Meet someone at the Cheesecake Factory for some well needed sugar. Or do all three. Honor yourself. Reward yourself. Be proud of yourself. You’ve accomplished a lot these last 6 years Melissa, and you are working hard to make some big changes in the future—for yourself and your family. They will be proud of you for that someday, but you owe it to yourself to be proud today. Just make a decision that no matter what you are going to take a deep breath and be happy today….I mean look at all you have to look forward too….cake AND sex, lol.

NOW---Go get your cake on girlfriend.

angie, melissa, chelsea, ryan, birthday

a day at home with the kids

What a morning! It is only 1:14 pm and I am EXHAUSTED! And I haven't really done anything!?!?!?! I worked a very little on laundry, which I will have to focus on this afternoon (after my quiet time nap of course). I made a simple lunch of salad, hot dogs, and mixed vegetables and then cleaned up that mess. Well, salad, hot dogs and vegetables for the babies. Ryan exists on chocolate milk and saltine crackers. I stacked up the dishes to wash, but never got around to doing it. We all went outside for a little playtime. Its a BEAUTIFUL day 76º outside. The kids insisted on bubbles, which, up until this month I always thought of as a simple, serene, happy activity. Ummm, not anymore. They can't share. They each want not only their own bubble wand, but their own bubble mixture. Ryan is fine. Bekah knows how to blow bubbles, but she likes to giggle at my reaction when she sticks her finger in the soap and then her mouth. And Olivia, she's just pathetic! Her allergies cause her nose to run like a faucet as soon as it hits the outdoor air, and she can't blow to save her life. Olivia, you see, is a spitter. She gets excited. She takes a deep breath, gathers up her strength, and the spits all over the wand annialating the chance of any bubble ever surviving. She doesn't get discouraged (I don't know if that's a good or bad thing). And no one can help her, she is too big (and stubborn!) for that. She just keeps spitting and spitting until finally she dumps the last remaining bubble solution all over herself and anyone sitting close to her, which today was Bekah. Then it turns into a whole new game, or drawing on the concrete with soap, jumping up and down in soap puddles. All of which results, of course, with me dumping both Olivia and Bekah into the bathtub and Ryan, because he couldn't let a good bath time go by. Then there is the rest of it. The bathing part is just the beginning. I have to sit on the floor, next to the diapers, raising my voice over and over again, calling their names, as they dance around crazy in their robes and eventually naked. Its such a predictable, redundant routine. They completely ignore me, its like some kind of primal trance that forces them to wave their arms around, giggle, and dance. Finally, when my patience wears thin, I grab them each up one at a time and place them on their backs as they wiggle and protest my attempt to assimilate them towards a clothed society. Then I dry their hair. This is always their most fun part. They shake their heads back and forth like little crazy rapid dogs, trying to speed up the process. I remember Chelsea, when she was their age, used to sing at the top of her lungs. She was always kind of shy, but the blanket of noise that the hairdryer provided gave her the confidence to belt out all kinds of tunes from Mary Poppins, to Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. No matter how far she was in her performance though, as soon as the hairdryer turned off, she stopped. Returning back to herself. Concerned about the opinions of others. Now, clean, diapered, dressed and hair dry, I was finally able to lay them down and have a few minutes for myself! It's so funny, how something simple like bubbles could be turned into a huge extravaganza of work and exhaustion!

Due to the nice weather I also had to go through their summer clothes from last year. Also a huge event in the Kilmark household. All of a sudden all of their favorite clothes are resurfacing and they are just realizing that they can't live without them, irregardless of whether or not they fit anymore. Olivia's Strawberry Shortcake short ensemble became a crop top/daisy duke outfit this year, but she's yet to notice. Its always amazing to see how much they grow in a year! Today Joan Rivers and all the fashion critics would have gasped in disgust as they saw each of them prancing down their make believe runways wearing crop pants, stars and stripes swimsuits, and cardigan sweaters all at the same time! Colors be damned, today, in our living room, you could wear navy blue, white, peach, orange, and yellow--all in one beautiful rainbow of cotton and polyester. And the smiles, they smiled from ear to ear like they were strutting down the red carpet. Proud of their creations. Ryan was the sweetest though. He's going to be five this summer, and is growing into quite a young man. He's all obsessed with Ed, Edd, and Eddy, and Playstation games. Yet today he was grabbing onto his old t-shirts like he was visiting his childhood claiming Rugrats and Spongebob as mine! It made me sad. I wanted him to go back to last summer as much as he didn't want to let it go.

Olivia said something cute today too. It really isn't much, but it made me giggle. She has a huge pink bunny rabbit that is about the same size as her, and it was chillin' in her Dora chair watching TV. Olivia came walking into the room with a chocolate poptart and said,

Good Morning Bunny Rab! Here, bunny, want a tart?

I just thought that was hilarious. Not only her having a complete conversation with this stuffed animal, but being such close friends that she could refer to him as bunny rab instead of bunny rabbit! And then being courteous enough to offer him some of her breakfast, how sweet is that? She is so funny. Sometimes I am envious of her, living in a world where every stuffed animal is your best friend and everything you pick up off of the floor is a snack.

ryan

Today is a fun day so far. Lots of dancing, laughing, and Wiggles. This morning I had to make a dinner for a woman in my M.O.M.S. group that recently had a baby, and the twins had to help of course. They sprinkled on the cheese, and ate most of it, and sprinkled on a little more. I took pictures of them and printed out the recipe to give to the mom. It’s a dinner that we have, and enjoy, a lot.

Yesterday Ryan said I few things that cracked me up so I jotted them down.

First we were on the way to Nana and Papa’s house and I said, “Ryan, aren’t you excited to play with your friend Ben Ben and Carter?” And Ryan replied, “I don’t play with Carter. He doesn’t talk like us. He doesn’t have a good brain. He only says ‘Ka’.” Of course this could be interpreted badly, I don’t want him to discriminate and not play with the not-so-bright kids (and in Carter’s defense, he’s not stupid, just not real talkative yet). But Nana said that’s not the case, Ryan played with him well all day. I just thought that it was interesting that Ryan not only noticed a difference but knew how to articulate it.

Then, on the way home from Nana’s, I was talking to Ryan about how we were going to Illinois for Easter. To the Scovill Zoo and the park. All the places that I used to play at when I was little. And I said, “We are going to where I lived when I was a little girl, like you” With which he responded quickly and appalled with “I was a GIRL!” Of course that was funny. After everything I had just spent 20 minutes talking about, the only thing he remembered was the last phrase.

The girls are napping and Ryan is watching The Adventures of Shark Boy and Lava Girl so I need to rest for a bit. There is a lot still to do this week before our trip to Illinois. I have to clean out the van and work on more laundry—in addition to all of the other chores.

stay at home mom?

This is my first day after layoff, at home, with all of the children.....I really realized that I miss my co-workers, and bathroom breaks, and ability to communicate in a language that all involved understand. My husband, who I dare say doesn't let them outdoors on his watch, wanted me to pack all three up (Ryan, 4 and Olivia and Rebekah, 2) and run them downtown to the city/county building to drop off papers, meet him for lunch at the statehouse, go to the bank to cash a check, fill the van up with gas, return overdue movies to Family Video, drop by CVS to pick up some Tylenol and athletic tape, AND do a load of whites. Of course I got the wrong kind of tape. WHAT A LONG DAY! OK, to be fair to Erik, he just asked me to pick up the tape, go to the attorney, and do a load of whites—everything else just kind of evolved. But to be fair to me, I also make breakfast, supper, picked up the living room, gave all three baths, and folded (although not put away) 2 loads of laundry. I am quite proud of what I accomplished, although I wish it wasn’t followed by a melt down of screaming and crying before the day was over.

And for all of you in my M.O.M.S. group this will have some significance. Although I am sure it is illegal and dangerous, I stick that votive candle we received during class in the cup holder of my van and light it very so softly while I am driving to remind me to find my inner self, relax, and ask the spirits/saints for help through the day. It is silly but it helps me to find peace, and drowned out the Rugrats in Paris cd that’s on eternal replay.

I've realized that I have to do some journaling this summer! And I have to arrange some playgroups. And clean carpets. And sort through summer clothes. Speaking of which---if any of you have any summer clothes for sizes 18 mos girl, 3t girl, and/or 4t boy PLEASE let me know and I will take them off of your hands! Even for a small fee. I couldn't imagine taking everyone shopping! And our budget when I am laid off doesn't allow for much. And I have to teach the girls to blow bubbles, 'cause right now they think those sticks are soapy suckers! I have to work on teaching my son the alphabet and fine tune colors. Potty train the girls. Get the wheel on the double stroller fixed. AND, if I have some extra time, they had kits on sale at Target the other day so I picked one to fix me up some rather fashionable leg warmers :)

I don't even know where to start!

On a happy note though there were a lot of happy moments! Last night after the girls were in bed we put Ryan down and we heard some rustling so we turned up the monitor....imagine our surprise and delight when we heard our 4 year old serenading the babies with the sweetest song....."Go to sleep, Go to sleep. Go to sleep Olivi-wah and Beka-wah" Isn't that sweet? That's what he calls them. Of course even after two and a half years he doesn’t know which one is which, but he at least he knows their names. Most of the time he just refers to them as “the babies.” I guess he doesn’t want to get attached. And they all behaved well today, saying hi and see ya’ when appropriate. That's an improvement! I remember when Ryan was 2 he was having a meltdown at McDonald's and when the sweetest little old woman stopped to tell him it would be OK he looked at her and cried, "I hate you!" The before mentioned story will always be known as my most embarrassing moment!

Jeez, I feel like I am writing a column for some demented mom newsletter. SO anyway, my husband popped in long enough to say hi and watch the kids for 15 minutes so I could run my last errand---he has a Pacers game with his buddy. With that being said after I put the kids to bed, at 8:02 pm to be exact, I will be opening up the year old Berringer in our fridge, taking a long shower, and "melting away" in some kind of pseudo-celebration of my first day, this summer, as a stay at home mom!

Later….

OK, its 9:02 pm (Damn that new daylight savings time! How can I put the kids to bed when the sun is still shining!) And I haven’t popped open the Berringer. I don’t want to face tomorrow with a hangover…..and besides that I am afraid that unbeknownst to me I may have an addictive personality disorder. I don’t see it in myself so much, but it frightens me when Olivia jumps up and down and crumbles into a ball of snot and tears like a heroin addict when I refuse her the 20th popsicle…..and my son with his chocolate milk in the morning….well, it’s reminiscent of a 50 year smoker jonesin’ for that first hit of the day. Besides, who needs wine? It’s the week before Easter and there is a special on Reese’s Peanut Butter Eggs. Aha! Maybe my addictive personality is not so much a secret.

I don’t know about the shower either yet. It’s still undecided. I know it will make me feel better after the fact, but I am SOOOOO tired!

You know it’s so funny when we go out in public and five hundred people look at me with the double stroller and the boy holding onto the side and remark, “Boy, you have YOUR hands full!” That always strikes me as funny. Not real funny of course, because stating the obvious is just asinine. But it’s almost like a backhanded compliment it seems. I mean I know that they are just trying to make conversation and taking notice of my obvious overwhelmed ness (is that a word? Wait, never mind. Word tells me it’s not. But I can’t think of a simile so bear with me). It always seems to imply to me though that I “got in over my head.” And, although I used protection for 3 out of my 4 children, I “asked for it.” Now that my twins have left their infancy though I realize….I didn’t “ask” for it, I was blessed with it. They are each SO special. And I don’t say that as a “idealistic mother earth” person—you know, one of those people who think their destiny in life was to be a mother, breastfeed their children ‘til their five, and seem to have perfect children. I say it as an exhausted, frustrated, overwhelmed mom.

Chelsea, although challenging, is so compassionate, and has such a strong sense of right and wrong. She is so quick to defend the underdog and so much smarter than me.

Ryan, he is SOOO sweet. He’s not feminine, just sweet. He has a hilarious sense of humor as well. Like singing to his sisters. And the other day, when Chelsea had misbehaved and I punished her by not buying her a candy bar at the store---he matter of factly have her half of his, with a nonchalant, “Here, Chels.” Not to undermine me, just because it was the right thing to do.

And Olivia, she is the most sensitive. The artist’s soul. The poet. She’s the one that will sit with crayons and paper and disappear into her own world. Not casually making marks on the paper like her twin, she is very precise in her markings, almost as if she were entranced. She could sit alone for 30 minutes with only a pen and a blank piece of paper to entertain her. She is social, but has no fears of being alone. She always amazes me with her compassion and empathy. Every time she sees a new kid she immediately runs up to them and comments on their shirt, or their hair. Whatever stands them apart, just to let them know she accepts them. And it’s so funny to see her play with others….every time one of them falls (which is rather common amongst toddlers) she falls right down with them. I’m not sure if she thinks it’s a game, or if she doesn’t want them to be embarrassed—but I think it’s an insight into how amazing of a person she will be. Just the other day her daddy was playing that crazy game where the parent pretends to cry if they don’t get a kiss, and instead of the usual giggling reaction….Olivia bawled for five minutes. Just devastated that she had caused her daddy to cry.

And Bekah, well, she’s a personality all her own! She is a funny one, like her brother. She would rather laugh then do just about anything. She is going to be the boss of whatever she does in life. She shares Chelsea’s determination. She has a little OCD I think. Well, a little from me and a little from her dad…so actually it’s quite a bit! She has determined herself my helper/supervisor. Every chore I do throughout the house she is standing in waiting, watching my every move. When I start to load the dishwasher, she is scrimmaging under the sink grabbing the detergent. When I am washing dishes she is sitting on the countertop deciphering what should be done next, “Here mom” she says matter of factly, as she hands me a bowl or a cup. When I am doing laundry her little 20 pound self sits perched up on the corner, throwing clothes in, shutting the lid, pushing the button, and then, when I put her down, she walks away patting her hands together like she’s just accomplished the task all by herself and is ready for the next one. She has this “exactness” in all of her chores. She throws her diaper in the trash. When it’s time for bed, she runs across the room and turns off the TV, like it was her decision. When it’s time to pick up she immediately stops everything she’s doing and puts each thing in its place while the others whine, argue, and delay the inevitable. I swear if I don’t get them both potty-trained soon she will be changing her sister! Every time I lay Olivia on her back she scrambles to the basket to bring me the diapers and then the box of wipes. None of my other children even notice detail, and yet it seems to be what rules and motivates her. I’ve never seen that kind of preciseness in a spirit so young.
So, back to my original point (you may have to refer back to page 2, I’ll wait), saying that I have my hands full……albeit true is just ludicrous. I have a family of such different spirits and hearts and souls, the idea that I should have stopped at two is just ridiculous. That’s like God saying, “You don’t need a right AND left arm, I’ll just take one, you’ll never notice!” Even though they all got here at different times and under different circumstances, they are not by any means more than I can handle. I couldn’t imagine living without any single one of them. They together make up who I am, and without each individual piece it would all crumble as a whole. They are amazing….and I am just lucky to love them.

With that being said I guess my goal tomorrow is the same as every day before today, be patient. I did fine today until about 3:30. I don’t know if it’s because Chelsea came home from school with her customary “Bull in a China Shop” entrance or because I was exhausted and didn’t get as much nap as I needed. I need to not blow up and teach them to yell and snap at one another tomorrow. And lead by example. Focus on using my words, and saying please and thank you. Help them to find solutions, instead of yelling at them all and taking prisoners later. Take lots of deep breaths, and then a few more, and then…..when I can’t take it anymore…..put in Rugrats in Paris and breathe for a few more minutes. I know it’s easy to say all of this in reflection when they are in bed and the house is quiet, but I need to really work into implementing these ideas into my life. I have a doctors appointment tomorrow, so I won’t be in the “swing of things.” It’s harder when you aren’t on the same day with your schedules in synch. But this week I am not going to expect much of myself, I am just scoping things out and trying to come up with a schedule. Maybe by Friday I will pull out the crayons and paper and in a week or two be ready for play-doh. Introduce the letter “A.” Watch less TV, read more books. Start teaching them instead of watching them.

My hope is to one day let all my children read this—so they will know that although their memories are sorted, I really did my best. I think that when you become “middle aged” (ha ha) you forget how hard and emotional it is dealing with kids, and I want them to read my journal as solace to their struggles—preferably while I am retired in an RV down in Florida. I think that as children we never really get to know our parents as people. Even as adults. We never open ourselves up to the idea that they have thoughts, and hopes, and dreams, and their own lives. Maybe this will help close that gap. Give them an insight to my personality. We will see how it works. Maybe if I turn to this as a source of communication while I am home for the summer I won’t be as frustrated, it seems to help.

how to be a mom

I am only 32 years old. I know, to my children, that is old. One day though, 32 won’t be old. I will fondly look back upon it as my “youth.” I still have a lot to do, a lot to see, and a lot to achieve. I want to be a writer. I want to give people all of these random thoughts in my head. I want them to laugh and cry and think, as much as I do when I write them down. I want to sleep in. I want to hop in the car and visit my grandma Eichem. I want to runaway with my husband and laugh, and talk, and sleep, and date. I want to do all the things we never got a chance to do, because we were parents before we were even newlyweds. I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a path. I don’t know what to do with the time I have. So my plan now is to make a plan.

Right now as I am typing the babies are finally asleep. Ryan is hidden under my quilt playing with my feet. Talking. Wrapping his fingers in between my toes. Humming with his binky in his mouth. They always have to be touching me. It can get claustrophobic sometimes, all the touching.