So last week we got back from visiting two dearest friends in Seattle. Jen was one of my all nighter buddies in the design studio during my college days. Bonnie was my all nighter party friend during my college days. Great memories I have with both. (just realized I sound like Yoda).
I am completely in love with Washington and the greater Seattle area. Completely. I blame the Twilight series for that. Seeing all that vibrant chartreuse moss growing on tall evergreens made me have Northwest fever for a long time. I think I'm becoming dehydrated in the Southwest. I'm in love with the moss, yes! I'm also in love with humidity, I'm programmed to live in humid conditions. I'm in love with how family friendly Washington state is. I loved driving through Redmond and seeing Ron Paul signs all over the place. I love how lush and watery it is everywhere. And even though, it drizzles constantly, seeing the ocean seriously soothes my soul. Call me crazy! It's not the slightly-arid sandy beaches of Northeast Brazil, but seeing that water and the smell of fresh non-farmed seafood, makes me feel right at home. Not to mention that in doing research for homeschooling, I found out a few weeks back there there are such things as Classical Christian Schools, and the Seattle area has about 5-6 of them. So while I was there hanging out, I needed to go and check them out. That was when I took my first huge bite of humble pie.
I've been teaching Isaac with an infuriating passion for learning and for proving people that I can do this thing. Frankly, I can't always be the dictator I would enjoy being because after all I do believe in freedom of choice down to its very core, which is more than most people feel comfortable with in my SOF. I've been so proud of him and yes I have to admit, of myself for getting him a year ahead for his age. First school I visited was having an open house, how convenient! First graders in that school know ALL the countries in the world, ALL the continents each country belongs to, AND can point out where ALL of these countries are. My kid knows where Egypt and the Nile Delta is and where Mesopotamia once was He knows where Brazil is, but can't remember all the time that its continent is SOUTH America. Yep, I was humbled.
Second school I visited, I had no idea I was going to sit and watch the 1st grade class for 45 minutes. While there, they practiced their penmanship by writing new words the teacher gave them; spelling them, figuring out how many syllables each word has, adding phonetic signs to them to show how they are meant to be pronounced. They also sang a cute little jingle about sentences having 5 things in order to be complete, complete, complete. Then they proceeded to analyze a sentence and point out its subject, verb and adverb. Not ONE of these kids looked back at us during the 45 minutes, ALL eyes were on the teacher, their handwriting was better than mine (and I've always thought I had good handwriting). So my kid knows what a noun is and can tell you about common nouns and proper nouns, is writing decently for a 5 YO boy, and can read at beginning 2nd grade level. I did ask the teacher what kind of drug she was giving them to make them sit perfectly still, arms and legs to themselves for 45 whole minutes. She just said they set the expectation very high, and since kids a resilient they reach high to meet them. Another huge bite of humble pie!
Then Bonnie decides to show me her gym. We got to Boot Camp, which is taught by a girl. I'm thinking: "Well I run almost every day at 7000 feet above sea level this shouldn't be too hard." We start with jog/sprint intervals of 1, 2, 2.5 minutes then go straight into 50 deep squats. That's where I was done. That was about the first 10 minutes of class. I finished the class, I'm not going to let those "other" girls beat me by 50 minutes. But after push ups, lunges, bosu ball exercises and crunches I seriously don't know how I made it to the car. Bonnie kicked my tush. She's been doing this class for a while, and it was so good to have a great friend and fellow volleyballer to work out with. The class was followed by a volleyball game at night. I could barely run for the ball. Another piece of humble pie! Bonnie and I had different sore areas and for a brief 5 minutes we both realized that we are getting older. Our bodies just don't bounce back like they used to. It took 5 days for all the lactic acid in my quads, hams, and gluteus to make its way out.
The last piece of humble pie was eaten a couple of days ago. Talking to my mom, she tells me she has just discovered she as a 'modern' illness in her colon that is caused by industrialized foods. It's crazy to think that my mom whom for the last 20 years has been nagging us to eat better, wholesome foods, and has had in her growing up years fresh produce from her dad's small farm, has now an illness caused by industrialized foods. It seriously hit home. I'm so much like my mom, not just in personality but also in physical/biological aspects. If I ever want to see myself in the future all I have to do is look at my mom. That's scary. I hope that my last 5 years of healthy eating will count for something, but I'm seriously considering a more extreme approach to our diet. Vulnerability is just not something I feel very often, I'm not wired to feel that way. However I am still human after all and I'm starting to realize that I am vulnerable, that's the biggest humbling experience of all!
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
A mean mom.
I hear this on a daily basis. Better yet. Almost an hourly basis. In the alternating hours, I hear "Mommy, I love you so so much" or "I love you my lovely." So which one is it? Is it just me going through emotional roller coasters all day, or are my kids following suit?
Yes, I have to admit I seem a lot more mean than most moms. I lose my cool and raise my voice and I guess there's no justifying it. However, I have always had a loud voice so it has taken me a long time to tame it down to where it is now. It's sad though that my kids only hear me when I yell their names.
This is a hard equilibrium to achieve in daily life. One minute you're cuddling up to those priceless beauties you created in your vessel of life, and the next minute you're screaming bloody murder and putting them in time out. In my case, time out and bloody murder generally don't happen at the same time. I count to 3, lately to 2, and it's time out time. The screaming comes when I ask usually about 5 times for toys to be picked up about 5 times during the day. Do the math and that's 25 times a day.
I know there's that cute little saying about cobwebs and babies who don't keep, but I'm sorry I enjoy a clean house and so does the honey. There's another little invisible friend who enjoys too, the Holy Ghost. I shall never forget a story told either in general conference or the RS general meeting when a lady who had a messy house was prompted by her visiting teachers to go to the temple and to pay attention to how things run, how things 'are' and how she felt there. The result was that she learned to keep an uncluttered, orderly house and it made a difference even in her relationship with her husband. I also will never forget a few years ago when I had just cleaned the kitchen and my mother was staying with me during that time. She said she immediately felt peace and well being when she walked in.
I love my children, and I love teaching them to be better people even if it hurts their feelings for 5 minutes. I clean up the toys more when I have friends over with their kids, than I clean up an entire week after my own kids. I like that very much. Is it really a crime? Can someone really say I'm mean for making them clean up after themselves? Sure they are little, but you have to start somewhere. I didn't learn to be organized until I was in college. I bet I could have learned a lot more, and had more time for other interests if I had learned it sooner. Is it mean of me to make them earn and pay fake pirate coins for their toys? I like to think I'm teaching them the value of work even if they don't quite realize it yet. After all, I don't want them to end up blaming others when they don't achieve their dreams because they didn't work hard enough.
Am I really mean, for pushing them to learn above their age level? Beethoven was taught to play the piano by his father at 4 or 5. Some say he would stand there crying in front of the piano. Jean Francois de Champolion was 7 when he became obsessed with Egyptian history and consequently in his late 30's, he deciphered the Rosetta Stone gifting us with the language of Ancient Egyptian civilization. Tiger Woods was 3 when he started playing golf with his father. Please tell me why, I should look at my kids in any other way than the amazing potential that they truly are? I believe in progression, I believe in eternal life, I believe in paying the price to achieve greatness. I don't see why, while I work on those things myself, I cannot usher my children into a higher level of behavior, thinking and achieving.
Some times, when I compare myself to the mom next to me, it's easy to see I run a military style household. I easily seem tyrannical and dictatorial. While I would never want to be compared to the Tiger Mother, I do take pride in raising well behaved, well spoken, happy children with a passion for learning whatever is thrown at them. They have to make their beds (I do help once in a while), they have to brush their teeth and put toys away before playing with another one. And in return for all that, they get to eat expensive gluten free pancakes and with Grade B maple syrup, lots of probiotic drinks and candy-yogurt as well as homemade wholewheat bread, organic fruits and veggies while playing on iPads during our countless travels throughout the country. Someone tell me these kids are not lucky to have such a mean mom like me? They can call me what they want during 'sunny time.' At the end of the day when it's 'sleepy time', they still snuggle up to me to read bed time stories, kiss me and tell me they love me. And that's when I know the daily struggles and labels are all worth it.
Yes, I have to admit I seem a lot more mean than most moms. I lose my cool and raise my voice and I guess there's no justifying it. However, I have always had a loud voice so it has taken me a long time to tame it down to where it is now. It's sad though that my kids only hear me when I yell their names.
This is a hard equilibrium to achieve in daily life. One minute you're cuddling up to those priceless beauties you created in your vessel of life, and the next minute you're screaming bloody murder and putting them in time out. In my case, time out and bloody murder generally don't happen at the same time. I count to 3, lately to 2, and it's time out time. The screaming comes when I ask usually about 5 times for toys to be picked up about 5 times during the day. Do the math and that's 25 times a day.
I know there's that cute little saying about cobwebs and babies who don't keep, but I'm sorry I enjoy a clean house and so does the honey. There's another little invisible friend who enjoys too, the Holy Ghost. I shall never forget a story told either in general conference or the RS general meeting when a lady who had a messy house was prompted by her visiting teachers to go to the temple and to pay attention to how things run, how things 'are' and how she felt there. The result was that she learned to keep an uncluttered, orderly house and it made a difference even in her relationship with her husband. I also will never forget a few years ago when I had just cleaned the kitchen and my mother was staying with me during that time. She said she immediately felt peace and well being when she walked in.
I love my children, and I love teaching them to be better people even if it hurts their feelings for 5 minutes. I clean up the toys more when I have friends over with their kids, than I clean up an entire week after my own kids. I like that very much. Is it really a crime? Can someone really say I'm mean for making them clean up after themselves? Sure they are little, but you have to start somewhere. I didn't learn to be organized until I was in college. I bet I could have learned a lot more, and had more time for other interests if I had learned it sooner. Is it mean of me to make them earn and pay fake pirate coins for their toys? I like to think I'm teaching them the value of work even if they don't quite realize it yet. After all, I don't want them to end up blaming others when they don't achieve their dreams because they didn't work hard enough.
Am I really mean, for pushing them to learn above their age level? Beethoven was taught to play the piano by his father at 4 or 5. Some say he would stand there crying in front of the piano. Jean Francois de Champolion was 7 when he became obsessed with Egyptian history and consequently in his late 30's, he deciphered the Rosetta Stone gifting us with the language of Ancient Egyptian civilization. Tiger Woods was 3 when he started playing golf with his father. Please tell me why, I should look at my kids in any other way than the amazing potential that they truly are? I believe in progression, I believe in eternal life, I believe in paying the price to achieve greatness. I don't see why, while I work on those things myself, I cannot usher my children into a higher level of behavior, thinking and achieving.
Some times, when I compare myself to the mom next to me, it's easy to see I run a military style household. I easily seem tyrannical and dictatorial. While I would never want to be compared to the Tiger Mother, I do take pride in raising well behaved, well spoken, happy children with a passion for learning whatever is thrown at them. They have to make their beds (I do help once in a while), they have to brush their teeth and put toys away before playing with another one. And in return for all that, they get to eat expensive gluten free pancakes and with Grade B maple syrup, lots of probiotic drinks and candy-yogurt as well as homemade wholewheat bread, organic fruits and veggies while playing on iPads during our countless travels throughout the country. Someone tell me these kids are not lucky to have such a mean mom like me? They can call me what they want during 'sunny time.' At the end of the day when it's 'sleepy time', they still snuggle up to me to read bed time stories, kiss me and tell me they love me. And that's when I know the daily struggles and labels are all worth it.
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