Categories
Kids/Parenting Fulfillment

My Kids are Computers

I pretty much have to congratulate myself on this one: when my kids were born, I checked off the box that said “Computer module.” I really didn’t quite understand what that would entail, but boy, did I make the right decision!

These days, behavior, morals, even chores—you know what? All of parenting is just not the hassle it’s made out to be! All I have to do is enter my input:

Environment.church {
behavior: reverent;
volume: 10%;
default-position: seated;
thoughts: Jesus;
}

And BAM! My kids are the most reverent at church! (It’s important to beat other people with your reverence, too.)

At home, it’s just as easy:

Operation.chores {
complaining: none;
enthusiasm: 85%;
competence: 100%;
willingness-to-see-it-through: 200%
}

Entitlement? A problem of the past!

Operation.gifts {
response: gratitude-sincere;
attutide: positive;
asking-for-more: please;
if-no: whining-off;
}

Uh . . . YEEEEAH. Right. My kids aren’t computers, and I’m betting neither are yours. For some reason, it’s sometimes hard to remember this, but kids are people.  They come with their own preferences and penchants and personalities. Their default settings are the same as any adults’, really:

Default {
selfish: yes;
self-centered: yes;
ungrateful: yes;
minimal-regard-for-others: yes;
}

I kind of think they’re that way by design. The whole job of parents is to teach kids otherwise (hopefully so thoroughly that our defaults as adults aren’t the same!). But it takes a lot more than one line of code to change ingrained, inborn behaviors for a lifetime.

That’s why parenthood is so hard. It doesn’t matter how many times you teach a child to be grateful/not whine/not throw a tantrum because they don’t get something they want, they’ll probably do it again.

THAT DOES NOT MEAN YOU FAILED. It means your child is still a person and probably wants some control over his/her life. It means you have to keep teaching the same lessons you’ve taught a thousand times, probably a thousand more times—basically until your kids grow out of some of the behaviors. (I’m sure there are a few you can legitimately extinguish. Biting, maybe?)

And even then, even adults slip back into these natural-man behaviors. OVERCOMING THESE ID TENDENCIES IS THE BATTLE OF LIFE. I believe one of the major reasons why we came to earth is to learn to control our bodies, our urges, ourselves.

It starts in childhood with external instruction from our parents, but it never, ever ends. Neither does the battle of parenthood.

We will teach our children the same things over and over and over again. And they’ll still not learn it, or they’ll still act up, or they’ll still be people.

But you know what? That’s okay. Because I didn’t sign up for computers. I signed up for kids.

What do you think? Are your kids computers? Are you glad? Why?

Computer monitor photo by Brian/David

Categories
Kids/Parenting

More from Bryce Canyon NP


Ryan and Hayden went on a three-mile hike (Navajo/Queens combined loop).


Hayden burned his chin looking at the pilot light on the RV’s water heater. The grate pattern is clearly visible :\ .

Possibly the favorite attraction was the dusty RV lot where we camped, and the mound of dirt that separated us from the nearby cow pasture. The kids took full advantage of Mt. Dirt.

We had fun with Ryan’s sisters and parents!

Categories
Kids/Parenting

Family Summer Fun Plan

I posted this recently on Wayward Girls’ Crafts, and I thought I’d share it here, too. So far we haven’t had a lot of luck keeping up with it, since we’ve contracted a new ailment every week. But I still like our plan.

My oldest just finished kindergarten, so our family’s very first summer vacation is upon us. The thing I’m most worried about is spending the whole summer vacation in front of the TV and computer.A perfectly timed email from The Power of Moms gave a great example of how to avoid the couch potato summer, and we made up our family summer fun plan.

We started with a summer bucket list–a  list of all the things we want to do, all the places we want to visit, all the things we want to learn (and for my sake, all the areas we want to reorganize this summer), including experiences that no summer would be complete without:

Then we worked on our plan for our own Do-It-Yourself Summer Camp, creating themed days of the week. Our days are:

  • Make it Monday: arts and crafts
  • Talents Tuesday: learning new things, science experiments, music
  • Friends-day Wednesday: playdates and outings with friends
  • Thirsty Thursday: Play at the pool or lake or in the sprinklers, get slurpees
  • Fun Fridays: trips, movie nights, game nights

Also part of DIY Summer Camp, we also came up with activities the kids need to do every day, like reading and writing practice (my 6-year-old writes stories or journal entries, or practices his full name; my 3-year-old does letter worksheets from Confessions of a Slacker Mom; my 2-year-old . . . mostly runs around 😉 and chores. We also came up with a list of their favorite fun things to do, which would go great in an “I’m Bored” jar.

Everyone is excited for our summer plan, and I love the flexibility and structure it offers. I have ideas for fun things to do everyday all ready to go, and I can plan ahead for them.

What do you do in the summertime?

Categories
Kids/Parenting

Rebecca is planning

I made the mistake of telling Rebecca her birthday was after Rachel’s. In the sense that she is the next person in this house to have a birthday, I was right.

But that’s not how a soon-to-be-four-year-old thinks.

Starting on Rachel’s birthday and every day thereafter, she has asked. “Is my biwtday tomoyyow?

“No.”

“Is my biwtday aftay tomoyyow?”

“. . . Strictly speaking, yes.”

Rebecca calls herself The Awesomest Giwl when she wears her sunglasses and her dad's hat

She’s laid off the calendar questioning once I showed her how many weeks until her birthday, but today she sat me down for some in-depth discussion of the big day.

“Foy my biwtday, you an me an Wachew wiww go to de jumping p’ace and Hayden and Daddy wiww go to de stowe to get p’esents, an’ dey wiww make me a big! cake! And dey wiww get bLLoons . . .”

[For my birthday, you and me and Rachel will go to the jumping place and Hayden and Daddy will go to the store to get presents, and they will make me a big cake and they will get balloons.]

But it’s not just her immediate family she’s concerned with.

“An’ Nana wiww send me some p’esents. An’ we—me an’ Daddy—wiww make a bideo to teww hey it’s my biwtday so s’e can send me p’esents.”

[And Nana will send me some presents. And we—me and Daddy—will make a video to tell her it’s my birthday so she can send me some presents.]

I’m already worried about her wedding.

Worse still, so’s she. This week, she asked me, “When wiww de maiw [mail] be hewe, and when wiww I get mawwied?

Straight answers: I don’t know and I don’t know.

My Aunt Janie pointed out that maybe in light of the second question, it wasn’t M-A-I-L in the first. I agree 😉 .

Categories
Kids/Parenting Fulfillment Faith

This one little thing

Every once in a while, I get fixated on this one little thing. It might be having my son participate in his preschool Christmas program, or my daughter take dance lessons (okay, that one hasn’t happened yet). I want my child to do this thing that really isn’t all that important in the long run, but for some reason it means something to me, like singing “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer” in front of 75 strangers proves I’m raising a well-adjusted three-year-old.

Um, no?

Yes, it’s not asking much. But it seems like when I get so excited about these supposedly fun little things, they never go how I want.

The same thing seems to happen with little things that might not be so little—the small gestures I anticipate, like that first smile or first Mother’s day card will be the one little thing that convinces me this motherhood thing is worth it, that I’m not driving myself nuts watching Curious George and teaching the alphabet and trying to get! them! to! share! completely in vain.

Those are the little things that are really dangerous, because I can become so fixated on them that they become the reason for motherhood itself. And when they don’t come—and it seems like they never do—I’m so ready to give up. “All I wanted,” I want to scream at the heavens, “was this one stupid little thing. This one gesture to tell me I’m doing the right thing—one tiny tender mercy. Why are you withholding it from me?”

I’ve gotten better about these little things, but sometimes they sneak up on me. Hayden was “keeping a secret” about his Mother’s day gift at school (not really at all): a book he was writing for me. (It’s his second. He’s pretty prolific; he gets it from me. 😉 ) It was supposed to be a book about how great I am.

I knew better than to get my hopes up. I mean, the child is six. For Christmas, he got me an airhorn at the dollar store, an “attention-er,” he called it. I’ve never received a gift that filled me with so much guilt: my first thought was that he was under the impression that I yelled all the time and needed the help. (Ryan set me straight: he was five. He thought it would be fun. Therefore, he reasoned, I must have thought it would be fun. Child logic.)

Still, Hayden was very excited about his book. A few days before Mother’s day, I arrived to pick him up, and he was distraught. “The wind blew your book away!” he pouted. And it had, the staff verified: this four page book he’d spent all week on had been taken by the (surprisingly stiff) wind.

I was not going to accept this! We marched four blocks, scouring in yards and under cars, looking for that book. And I’ll admit it, my mind really wanted to go to that “Why are you taking this one stupid little thing from me?” place. That “Why can’t I get the smallest vote of ‘thanks, Mom, nice job’?” place. That “Do you not care?” place.

The search seemed to mollify Hayden, at least—my biggest concern at the time (yes, it was). He told me what the book said (I’m a great cook and I give him hugs), and said he’d make another at school the next day.

After we’d been home for a while, I remembered his teacher was sending home a certificate for some award he’d earned. I didn’t know what it was, exactly, so I was pretty surprised to find the president’s signature on the certificate:

As proud and as happy as that made me, though, it paled in comparison to the other homework he brought home:

Yep.

It’s not about these little things. It’s about the sentiment behind them. And that will be there whether I get the book or the air horn or nothing at all.

How have you found fulfillment this week?

Categories
Kids/Parenting

Rachel’s two!

Today was Rachel’s birthday. She got some very fun gifts and some cute outfits. Best of all, I let her eat all kinds of treats–chocolate cookies, chocolate chips, peanut butter cups . . . even two tiny handfuls of straight sugar tat I couldn’t wrest away from her after she ripped open a ten-pound sack. She was pretty thrilled (even if she decided to use her special birthday dinner [pizza] as lotion).

I needed to follow up that mother of the year act with something even awesomer, so I shot for the elusive highly-breakable-and-zero-fun-to-play-with gift category.

The winner? A piggy bank. I was hoping to find a purple one for her (I consider it “her” color, and Rebecca already has a pink piggy bank), but all I found was an interesting alternative:

Did she like it?

Um, yes. (Okay, really she’s trying to peer into the slot.)

It seemed like the older kids were most excited about Rachel’s birthday. Hayden and I were talking when he abruptly announced, “I’m gonna go give Rachel a double hug, because I love her so much–and she’s two years old!

Rebecca even composed a song for her sister: “Oh, Wachew, I’m so g’ad you came into our famiwy. Today’s you biwtday. Today’s you SPECIAW! DAY! I awways wanted a sistay wike you!

Rachel loves songs. She wasn’t singing when I snapped this, but this is how she sings (note her hand positions, especially her left) (and imagine a small child singing as loud and low as she can).

Rachel isn’t the only one growing up. Hayden finished kindergarten last week. Yesterday, he announced, “I’m a first grader now.”

“I know!” I said. “That’s crazy.”

[Biggest grin all day] “It’s not crazy! It’s fun!” [pause] “It’s funner than fun.”

Yes. Yes, it is.