Nightmares, Playground Fun and Lunch

The last two nights we have had a kid in bed with us in the middle of the night. Not that I mind. However, it's hard to sleep with feet in your back and a snoring husband. When Colin came in on Wednesday night, he was TERRIFIED. We asked him what his dream was about. He said he dreamt that his head exploded and he died. Hmm, that's pretty graphic. As he continued to explain, he sounded like he was going to hyperventilate. We don't let the kids watch scary shows or play rough video games. Tom and Jerry is about as violent as it gets around here. However, after playing an exhausting round of Super Mario Bro. Wii last night, I think I have discovered where the fear came from. Those little dudes explode all over the place. They spit fire, throw ice and kick butt in general. It's a "cute" violent, so I never thought it would have much affect. Guess I was wrong. Thank you Super Mario Bro. Wii for giving my child the type of nightmare that he will probably never forget.

Now onto to nightmare #2. Camden came into bed last night. He was crying and sad. His nightmare was very easy to decipher. Here's some background on our day yesterday.

It has been raining nonstop since yesterday morning. When we walked to the bus stop yesterday, there were worms all over the sidewalk. Camden was fascinated. He picked up worms along the way and wanted to take them home. I assured him that there were plenty of worms at our house and if he really needed a worm, we could get one when we got back from school.

While I was at a Dr.'s appointment yesterday, Steve stayed home with the boys. They did an experiment for school where they had to boil and egg, peel it, look at it and taste it. Not too tough but a little creepy in my opinion. Colin's class has an incubator in their room. They are trying to hatch 12 chicks. They have been talking about the life cycle of a chicken. I have tried to shield the kids from the fact that the cute little chicks will actually become dinner to someone someday. I guess their teacher has a different plan. Since the end result of the egg experiment was to eat the egg, Camden put two and two together. The cute little eggs and the cute little chicks become dinner.

Back to his nightmare. He came in crying and asked is worms really pecked holes into the chicken eggs and then ate them. He was wailing as he said this. Thank goodness it was dark as I know that my face would not have implied empathy at that point. He morphed to major parts of our day into his nightmare. I will be surprised if I can ever get him to eat chicken again.

On a side note, we were at a park over the weekend and a bratty 7ish year old girl told the boys that Santa was not real. Can I just tell you that I wanted to kick sand at her? (Yes, I refrained.) Steve and I managed to cover, but still. Someone must have really wronged that kid at some point. She was cussing and fussing the whole time we were at the park. She was just mean.

Also, while we were at the park, Camden took a super dive into the side of a metal slide. I am not sure how that happened but it left a pretty big goose egg on his head. Steve was with him and I did not hear even a single whimper from across the park. As Steve and I traded off kids, I noticed that Camden's hair was sticking up on his forehead. I lifted his hair and immediately got, "I'm okay" from him. It was a big goose egg so I was surprised that I did not hear him cry. When I questioned Steve about it, he said that Camden didn't cry at all. He rubbed his head for a second, scrunched up his face and said, "I'm okay." Then he started playing again. I guess after two sets of stitches, a set of staples and a round of dermabond, Camden decided that he needed to play it cool when getting injured. I told him last time that if he had to go back to the ER, it was coming out of his allowance. He must really want that Lego that he is saving up for.

You can barely see what is left of the black bruise (which has now turned green) on his forehead. On the other side, you can see the scar that he keeps cutting open. At some point, they will not be able to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

Last random comment. On Wednesday, I asked the boys what they wanted for lunch. They both decided they wanted to make their own lunch. Who am I to stand in the way of their Independence? Here's what they came up with. Yum.

Silliness

Just a few silly comments made by my kids over the last few days.

On Easter Sunday it was very cold and windy. I just did not seem right to let the day go by without actually being outside. Somehow I just feel closer to God when I am outside. So, we were all outside freezing when Cam comes over to ask me if he can water the flowers. I decided it wouldn't do any harm to let him play with the water hose for a few minutes. As I turned around I saw him with the hose pointed directly at his belly. He was soaking wet! "Camden, what are you doing?", I yelled. "Mom, I'm just watering myself so that I can grow." Hmm, that boy is pretty logical.

Today on the way home from school Camden was telling me all about the birds and the clouds. He was having a full conversation back there in the van all by himself. "Mom", he says, " God sure is imaginative." "What? " Since I know that a four year old should not know the word imaginative. "You know, he has a really good imagination to be able to come up with all of these things.", Camden explains. I guess I just got schooled on what four year olds should know these days.

Every night before bed Colin and I play silly games with his stuffed animals. He reminds me so much of myself when I was his age. It just such a good memory to be able to share with him. We line up his "guys" and wrap them in blankets, serve them a snack, read them books. It's just so cute to see him expressing himself though his stuffed animals.

Today we were getting ready to go outside. He brought down some of his stuffed animals and lined them up on the couch. He then drew a very detailed picture of each animal and the order in which they were sitting. When I asked what he was doing, he said that he wanted to see if any of the animals moved to a different spot while he was outside. He had a - in his words - "sneaking suspicion" that the animals played while he was at school. "Well of course they do," I said. He raised one eyebrow at me and went outside. Guess who moved the animals prior to going outside with the boys? You should have seen the look on Colin's face when he came back inside! Priceless.

Mama Bear

Last weekend Steve and I hired a sitter (two sitters actually) and went to a movie. We saw Blindside. If you have not seen this movie, I highly suggest it. It is very inspirational and sheds a little light into the lives of many children in this country. Of course, you find yourself rooting for the kid, Michael, to make it out of the ghetto gang infested situation that he was born into. But more than that, you also find yourself rooting for the mom to overcome all that is "proper and right" with her own little self-righteous world to help this kid. Upon leaving the movie I felt a sense of pride knowing that at one point, I was that mom in the school system.

As many of you know, I was a principal in an inner city school in Chicago. When I say inner-city, that is truly what I mean. We had a crack house a few doors down from us. When I went into any store near my school, I was always the only white person there; let alone female. Leaving at night was scary. Being there on the weekends was even scarier. It was a good school in very rough area. Drug dealers hung out at the store across the street. We had off duty police officers as security on staff. The funny thing is, we never had any problems inside our school building. Outside was a different story.

When those kids were in our school, they were safe. Even the gang members were safe from each other. We made sure of that. We had zero tolerance for smack talk, showing colors, signs and foul language. Our kids knew that our school was a place for a full meal and a warm classroom.

We were a charter school so that means we were a school of choice. We had kids from all over Chicago attending our school. We did not have buses so many of these kids took the city bus or the train that stopped two blocks outside of our doors. Come hell or high water the kids came to school. School was better than being at home. Better yet, our school day was nine hours long so if they came early and stayed late the could have breakfast at school and a snack after school.

Now, you might be questioning how I fit in at this school. Well, I really didn't. I was the only white member of the administrative staff. I was among a small handful (one hand) of white teachers. I was called a lot of names by parents. Never by the kids. These kids knew I would protect them at all costs. I was hard on them, but I was fair. I remember one day I kept a girl after school for detention. I can't even remember what she did to deserve that now but I was adamant about keeping her after school despite her protests that she would not have a ride home. "I'll give you a ride home myself", I said. Wow. I had no idea. This girl's grandmother had died recently (most of the students lived with someone other than their parents). She told me she had been sent back to her mom's house to live. Hmm, how bad could that be, I thought. Bad. The house did not even look like someone could live in it. The windows were broken and boarded up. The weeds out front had taken over the shabby steps. The paint was peeling and the concrete was busted. There is no way she lives here, I thought. Yep, she did. I caught a glimpse of the inside of the house as she walked through the doors. I can't even think of a word to describe it. Later, I learned that her mother was an addict (hence, the reason she lived with her grandmother all those years). This was a case that was never sent to a social worker. It's not like she was sent to live with her grandmother by a judge. Her mother just took her there one day and never came back to get her. The night I dropped her off at her house, I cried. I cried for all of the other kids at that school that I knew were going through the same thing. I cried for all of the mothers that were so messed up on drugs that they didn't care whether their children were home or not. I cried because I got to go home to my warm house in my warm car and eat my warm food. I got to take a hot shower at night and sleep without the fear of my house being broken into or bugs crawling on my floor. My heart shattered for those kids.

At the time, Steve and I did not have kids. I poured my heart and soul into my job. I knew I was protected. My director, Robert, was a wonderful man an boss. He took care of each of these kids (all 800 of them) like they were his own. He was a big black man with hands as big as bear paws. (To get a visual, think Hagrid from Harry Potter.) I always felt safe inside those school walls with him there. I knew the kids felt safe too.

During my three year there I went to two funerals. They were not funerals of kids but of their parents. I am sure there were many more that I did not know about. I learned of these funerals from the few kids that would actually talk to me in the first few weeks of school. After the first few months, word got out that I had a bowl of candy on my desk. Kids would stop in my office between passing periods and grab a handful of candy. I always left my door open. Sometimes I would be in the hallway and come back to find the candy dish completely empty. No doubt someone just dumped the whole dish into their back pack. But these kids were hungry. If I needed to buy another $6 bag of candy, so what. I wanted to put fruit out there too but that would make it uncool for them to come into my office. And so the ritual went. Each day I would fill that candy dish and each day I would have students meander into my office. Eventually they would stay and talk. They would tell me about their lives, their dreams, their families, what they faced at home, on the streets, in their future. I just sat and listened. I let them cry. I cried for them and with them sometimes. To hear what they had already faced was heartbreaking.

They needed me and I needed them. I needed to make a difference to them. I think to some, I did. They trusted me enough to tell their stories. They trusted me enough to hug me in the hallway. They trusted me enough that they would ask if I needed help after school. Most of them did not want to go home.

I wish there was more that I could have done for them. I knew when I started my own family, that I could not be torn in two. I needed to devote my time to my own kids knowing that someday I might go back to a school like this. I protect my kids just as I did those kids at school. I am still the Mama Bear watching after her cubs. I only have two kids to protect now but whether it is two or 800, I will still protect them. I will strive to give them everything they need. I will always be there for them. I hope that someday I can go back to protecting those kids in schools that have no one else to protect them. I need to be needed by them. I need to be a safe place for them. I miss them.

Time Flies; Or Not

Time sure flies. As I sit here reading my last post published in January, I am struck with sheer awe of how many days have gone by since then. I can not say that I have been especially busy. I just seem to get pulled in different directions every day. There are so many things that I should be doing right now. (For instance, right now Camden is yelling at me from down stairs because he and Colin are playing outside and they "need" me. I am going to try to ignore them and see if that works. Nope, here he comes.... Okay he just needed some tape. Not sure why he needs tape outside but in order for me to get a minute to myself, I have now instructed him where the tape resides in our house. I am sure that I will pay for this later as a 4 year set loose with a roll of tape is never a good idea.) See how easily I get off track?

Since the last time I wrote on my blog, Colin has turned 6 years old. I just can not believe that he is six already. He no longer resembles a "toddler" in any way. He is tall and skinny. He usually has a beautiful grin on his face that tells me he loves life. It is so hard for me to let him be six. He's been riding a bike without training wheels for a few years now. He's starting to enjoy BMX biking and hangs from the monkey bars like none other. But he still wants me to take him to school and kiss him goodbye. He still wants me to (oh, here comes Cam up the stairs again... now he's crying about not wanting to play the wii which confuses me a little since he is playing out side.

And we're back. I tried my best to figure out why he was crying but I can not make any sense of it. Cam is currently in his room crying and I am going to finish this post before I deal with a crying boy.)

So, as I was saying, Colin still wants me to lay down beside him every night and tuck him in. He is still like a little boy in so many ways. Then there are times when I get the "Mom, just leave me alone" look. It 's hard to treat him like a little boy and like a big boy at the same time. I guess I have many more years of that to come.

Now a little about Camden's progress over the last few months. When that boy is happy, he is really really happy. When he is angry, he is really really angry. He is such a fun boy to be around. He giggles and laughs and plays tricks on you. But everything can turn on a dime. His fits have gotten fewer and farther between. I don't know if it because he is finally starting to outgrow them or if we have just learned to avoid/diffuse them better. Nonetheless, he is easier to handle and has turned out to be a very lovey kid. He gives hugs and kisses very freely to me and has to give Colin a hug everyday before he leaves for school. Colin tolerates it most days.

That's all the time I have for now. I had hoped to give a long summation of Jan., Feb. and March but now I hear the kids arguing outside. Free time is over.

Here I Am

Well, it's been awhile my blogging friends. The basement is almost completed so I decided that we needed to paint the entire upstairs. That took awhile. Combine that with some cold weather and a few colds and you have one procrastinating woman.

Let's see what has happened around here the last few weeks. Cam has had a lot of questions about God and heaven. He has asked a lot about who he will see in heaven and what he will do in heaven. It always brings tears to my eyes when my kids talk about this. The thought of losing them makes me so sad and the thought of them going to heaven makes me so happy. Very deep thoughts for a Tuesday morning.

Colin continues to be a Lego maniac. He has started saving up $55 for Lego Mind storm kit. I am not sure that it is going to do what he thinks it is going to do but the kid has a goal. He has also decided that he wants another cat for himself. A cat that he can actually pet. Hmm, he might be onto something.

Well, gotta go pick up kids from school. That was a refreshing 5 minutes to myself.

This One Is For Me

This blog was created mainly to write down the funny antics of my children. At this point, my children have consumed me day and night for the last, oh, 3 months. Steve has been very gracious to give me time off when I go into a tail spin. He lets me sleep in whenever he can. I probably take advantage of that since I know there are other things he would like to be doing also. But this is a new year. I suppose I could make the same old resolutions. Lose weight. Eat better. Exercise more. Read. To that end, I have decided that by this summer anything in my closet that does not fit is going to Goodwill. I do not MAKE time for me. Everything supersedes whatever I have planned. It seems that when I plan something, it all falls apart with sick kids, a sick me, appointments, long nights, Steve's work, my work....the list goes on. So that is the first resolution; simply put: Make time for me. That one is going to be very hard.

Here's the second resolution: Friendship. It's not a clearly defined goal. I just know that I need more friends and less acquaintances. I know all of the moms in Colin and Cam's classes. I say hi to the neighbors. There's a lot of "We should get together" flying around out there. But since I have moved here 3 years ago, I have not found a person that I can hang out with on a regular basis. There are a few friends that I would like to get together with more. It's just hard with young kids. They get sick. We get sick. They have school. We have school.... However, I am not going to make those excuses anymore. I'm not asking for lots of friends to go out with every night. I am just asking for a few (even just one) great friend that I can hang out with. A family to go camping with and have over for dinner. Someone to celebrate birthdays and holidays with. We don't have family around and it is so hard to celebrate these things by ourselves. I'd like to blame this lack of friends on having kids. Nope, not working since everyone I know has kids. Okay, maybe it's a busy schedule. Again, nope, everyone is busy in their own way but others seem to find time to have parties, gatherings, trips and everything else under the sun. So, resolution 2 is to be a better friend. I need to get out more with and without my kids.

The last resolution is easy. Each weekend I would like to do at least one activity as a family. We started this weekend by going swimming. I just let myself be in the moment. I did not worry about the lack of progress on the basement for the moment. I did not worry about the Christmas decorations that needed to be put away or the floors that needed swept. I just really and truly enjoyed being with my family. It was great to hear the giggles from the kids and see Steve smiling. It was just a good feeling to know that our kids were happy and we were spending time with them. It won't be too long from now that they won't want to spend time with us. Until then, bring on the family fun!

What are your resolutions this year?

Night and Day

My kids could not be any more different. Here are some of our recent conversations:

Colin: "You're the best mommy in the world."

Camden: "I wish I didn't have a mom."

Colin: "I am trying to be good so I don't get on the naughty list."

Camden: "Since I am on the naughty list, what can I do to get off of it?"

Colin: I don't really like this present but I will be thankful for what I got anyway."

Camden: "Can we take this back?"

And the clencher of it all....

This morning Colin was playing very quietly with this legos. After he finished his creation, he handed it to me and said, "Mom, this is a reminder of what Christmas is all about. Jesus was born on Christmas Day but he died for us so that our sins could be forgiven." What a proud Mommy moment.

And then, three hours later in the car... I looked back in the rear view mirror to see Camden with a plastic grocery bag over his head. He put it on his head because he thought it was funny. (Sorry, no pictures of that one.)

Lord, please give me strength.