The Domino Effect

The White Stripes have a song called "Little Room" that I've been thinking about lately.  The lyrics are:

Well you're in your little room

and you're working on something good

but if it's really good

you're gonna need a bigger room

and when you're in the bigger room

you might not know what to do

you might have to think of

how you got started 

sitting in your little room

This song represents my life in general right now.  We had water damage in the house so we had to have some restoration efforts.  But it's not as simple as that.  As and example, I'll describe the saga of our cabinets.  We needed to replace half of our kitchen cabinets and were lucky to find matches.  But to replace the cabinets we had to rethink them.  Our refrigerator is about 15 years old and has a freezer on top of the refrigerator.  Most refrigerators sold now are side by side doors.  When placing our pantry cabinet, we had to take into effect the reality that one day we would own a side by side refrigerator which would have banged into the pantry cabinet.  So we had to move the pantry.  And while we were moving the pantry, we could add some more cabinets.  More counter space!  More cabinet space!  Great, but then we had to decide how many drawers we wanted, what the knobs should look like.  Do we want new knobs on the old cabinets or just leave them clashing?  On and on.

We got the cabinets installed, but they are unfinished.  Then comes the next round of questions.  What color do we paint the cabinets?  I wanted light blue but was wisely advised by Home Depot to go with cream and save light blue for the walls.  Why yes, the walls do need a new paint job!  So now we have a paint job to do.  We started making progress on that and then our top cabinets started pulling away from the wall.  So now the new cabinets have to be repaired.  

We have learned in the last few months that home improvement never ends.  It almost makes you want to throw up your hands and move to a new house but then we would have to start over!  What a terrible idea, not to mention one that is no realm of possibility.  We love our house, but we hate this never-ending home improvement hamster wheel that we are caught in.  We see no escaping.  I know that once we get in the floors and once the kitchen is painted, we'll start looking at other walls and realize they need painting, too.  

Housework is the same way.  Scrub a toilet and then notice you need to mop.  Mop and then notice you need to dust.  Dust and then notice the house is cluttered and needs organizing.

Raising children is the same way.  Teach them one thing well and then realize a concept/life-skill that you forgot.  Teach them that one and then the next one and the next one and the next.

Healthy living is another.  A week ago, ran for the first time in about two years.  I didn't get to the end of the block, so the next day I tried again.  The next morning I succeeded in going further, but not far enough, so I tried again.  I was feeling so good about working out that I decided to eat a little healthier.  Once salad led to another and another and then I didn't even order a pizza once this week!

It's the domino effect.  One thing leads to another to another and to another.  If you think you've reached the last domino, you are wrong.  There's always another after it.  But that's life.  I believe that life is not the destination of perfection and reaching the final domino.  That is impossible.  Life is what happens between the dominos.  Life is the reach for the next domino, knowing that there is no end.  Life is putting up your hand to stop the dominos to catch a breath before you immerse yourself in the never-ending labyrinth of life again.

Since I have accepted this fact of life, life is a little easier.  I know I will never, ever, finish the laundry unless my family becomes nudists, so it's okay to take a break to go to the zoo.  I know that I will never teach the kids everything they need to know in life, so it's okay to watch half an hour of TV.  The house won't paint itself, but the pool is open.  

It's officially summer now at the Boyette house and I can't wait to see what dominos will fall next and which ones we can stop in order to play.

A Critique on Criticism

In my Bible study we discussed a passage on criticism written by Catherine Marshall.  You can read the post here.  Marshall decides that she will take a day to "fast" from criticalness.

I decided to try the experiment myself.  I didn't tell members of my family, but designated Saturday as a day free from criticism.  At the end of the day I felt pretty proud of myself because I succeeded.  Upon review of the day's activities, however, I realized that it wasn't much of a challenge.  Saturday was a day full of shopping.  I had money to spend and customer service people wanted to sell me items.  I was a satisfied shopper with no room for criticism.

I was raised in a household where nothing and no one was immune from criticism.  From the size of my feet to the expression on a television actress' face, all were fodder for critiques and jokes.

In college I finally realized that this wasn't a healthy way to live.  Adam helped me with that by asking questions that made me reflect on my actions.  He's always been gifted at making me see the world in a different light.  Once I realized that I was often in conversations that were critiques, I worked to stop it.

With this time of experiment this past weekend,  I was feeling pretty proud of myself.  During conversation in the car, Adam reminded me of silly, brainless, and admittedly hilarious remarks I've made that have become inside jokes around the house.  "But those jokes started years ago!  I've tried to avoid doing that."  Darn it if he didn't say one I came up with a couple of months ago.

I'm not perfect.  It's hard to shed a habit you were raised with. 

Monday was an especially difficult day for criticism.  I took the kids to the zoo and met a friend there.  I found myself criticizing a slew of things and people, including those "other moms" who wear those skin-tight running/yoga tights.  As soon as I said it, I realized how dumb I sounded.  Who cares what kind of pants people wear?  Seriously, do I have nothing better to do than to make fun of pants?

In Bible study we discussed where we find ourselves most critical.  One said that we often make critical remarks to fill a void in dialog.  Another said that we do that when we know that the person we're saying it to will agree.  I found both insights to be true.

This week I am going to try to be less critical of both myself and others.  If there's a void in dialog, I will attempt to be comfortable in silence.  I will strive to keep my unhelpful comments to myself.  I know brainless criticism doesn't help anyone.  Also, surprisingly, it is not my job to critique and fix the world.  I am not the Messiah.

Mapping Unchartered Territory

With school back in swing, I have a small sense of being adrift in unfamiliar waters. Getting up early and getting the kids to school is something I know how to do and am good at.  But that time between dropping them off and picking them up is unchartered territory for me.

Of course I still have two jobs; split between working at church and tutoring, and once I show up for one I know what to do.  It's the little details that have me confused.

How do I get to work?

For the past several years my school routine has been drop off at school followed by the trek down Hulen to get to church to take Paul to preschool.  Monday I didn't need to go to church but found myself driving there anyway.  I can take a more direct route to school but was mixed up on how to get there.

When I was a teacher, I learned that voicing your thoughts ( called thinking aloud) was a strategy that helped children develop their own thought processes.  I am so used to "thinking aloud" that I have forgotten how to "think silently."  I find myself in the car saying, "I'm going to need to turn right when I see the green sign."  On Monday I took a wrong turn and felt like cursing but kept it under my breath.  The empty car just might get offended.

Yesterday as I finished my church work I kept waiting for the little knock on my office door.  Paul didn't come to tell me preschool was over for the day and I kept on working.  I discussed to an empty car whether or not I would have time to buy a frozen pizza at Kroger before school let out.  I did and the car agreed.

We are all so happy to have school back in session.  Both children adore their teachers and Adam and I are thrilled.  Adam's routine remains the same.  Mama, however, has to relearn how to think and arrive at locations without children.

A Day in the Life

Yesterday was a normal day in the Boyette household, but I was trying to explain the craziness to friends and realized that our normal isn't anyone else's.  So here are the laughs and crazy events from yesterday.

Our first adventure yesterday was a trip to Dollar Tree.  I had to buy stickers for our garage sale and the kids were allowed to select one toy each.  Paul, predictably, got a squishy ball.  Claire selected some magnets called "Snake Eggs" which make a noise when you clack them together.  She immediately renamed them dinosaur eggs and was delighted to explain their magic to us.  Then she dropped them in the car.

Wailing loudly, she searched through the toys and other debris in our backseat to find them but her seatbelt impeded progress.  I let her unbuckle at a long red light.  She still couldn't find them and kept wailing that they were gone forever.

I had to pick up an item at church so I rolled all the windows down, opened doors, and left the kids outside digging through the backseat to look for the dinosaur eggs.  Claire was crying uncontrollably and throwing toys at Paul.  Paul kept reassuring her that her eggs were not lost and even offered one of his toys to comfort her.  All the way home they made each other happy again by singing "BettieCarol, BettieCarol, BettieCarol Sherry!!"  (Just go with it if you don't know about this one.  Kind of a long story.)  They decided to make BettieCarol some cards and Claire said, "But it's going to be hard to make her a card because I'll have to say her name wrong to spell it.  I'll have to say it real slow."

Once home, the dinosaur eggs were forgotten and I had 15 minutes to make lunch before Adam arrived to eat with us.  Luckily I had already planned it so I whipped it together and voila, we had lunch.  We all watched Wheel of Fortune while eating and the kids enjoyed guessing the puzzles.  Often, Claire can beat Adam and me to solving one.

Paul sat and actually read a book to me. (He's started reading this summer!)  Then the babysitter arrived so I could go to the doctor for a checkup.

An hour and a half later, I walked back in the house and Paul, in full Spider-Man costume, looked at me and moaned, "Ahhhhh."  He said he didn't have enough time to play.  I said I would pretend to not be there yet.  I went to Claire's room and saw she and the sitter had draped a sheet over her door frame.  It was now a castle door and the babysitter was renamed "Belle."  She told me that she had been fighting with Spiderman, the castle guard, but was then informed that princesses don't fight so was now confined to the castle.

"Belle's" brother arrived to pick her up and we all sat and talked for a while.  Paul was doing cannonballs on the couch and shouting "Feces!"  Claire was saying something about fecal matter.  I was mortified.  Their father has taught them all the scientific words for poop and they take joy in sharing their knowledge with others.

I attempted to have an intelligent conversation with adults while the children interrupted with more fecal vocabulary words.  I had to send them to their room several times, but it's hard to shut down the poop talk when the guests are laughing.  I assured them that this was not a performance just for them but that the kids unfortunately are normally comfortable with talking about such topics.  The same girl who drew a giant heart on the driveway that says "Jesus loves us" was explaining that she likes to refer to the bathroom as the "defecation station."

I continued to be mortified, but when you are sitting at a kitchen table talking with friends who can clearly see the five loads of laundry waiting to be hung as well as the He-Mans and Ninja Turtles commingled on the floor, not to mention the kids who are dancing and talking about the bathroom, it's hard to pretend that this isn't your life.

After they left, I had fifteen minutes to get the kids a snack and get them ready for our next adventure.  Adam was using his truck to help move a swing set from one friend's house to another, so we made it a family affair.  Paul and Claire ran around our friend's backyard until Adam was ready to go.  We all chatted for a bit and then went on to the next house.

While the men reconstructed the swing, the mom and I chatted.  She didn't know we were coming, so she hadn't had time to prepare the house for company.  It's always comforting to see other houses in their natural state.  It reminds me that other people have dirty dishes and toys on the floor. 

For some reason, particularly in the summer, I believe that it's possible to have a spotless house, well-behaved children, and engaged intellects.  That is the standard that I strive for daily and fall-short of daily.  

In reality, I have a messy house and two happy, intelligent, caring children who share a love of fecal vocabulary with my husband.  Oh well, spotless houses and spotless lives are boring anyway.

Recognizing my role

I remember a time long ago and far away when the center of my life was me.  I don't know if you know, but the earth hasn't always revolved around the sun.  It used to revolve around me.

As I get older, I realize that I am not the sun.  I am surprisingly not the center of the universe, and that's okay.

Whenever I get to thinking that I am still the sun, I'm brought back down to Earth by circumstances.  My children often unintentionally remind me that the universe doesn't revolve around me.  They are trying to be their own stars and creating a universe that revolves around them.  As they get older, they will also learn that their world isn't the only world and there are other people and events outside of their bubble.

Recognizing my role in the world, noticing where I stand, is sometimes difficult.  

Last week we visited a fabulous museum in St. Louis.  I had on tennis shoes expecting to climb just as much as the kids.  Once we arrived, I realized that wasn't going to be the case.  Climbing up tunnels made of rebar isn't comfortable, especially when you're not a size six.  At first I was kind of pouty and wanted to go request my admission fee back since I wouldn't be participating.  Then I remembered that I wasn't the only person in my group.  There were three other people who were having the time of their life.  So I could pout about my limits or I could recognize my role for the day and have fun anyway.  When the day was over, I had a hundred pictures of death-defying heights climbed, balls thrown, ramps run, slides slid, and beautiful artwork.  My job that day was to be an audience, which amplified the fun my family was having because they could all come back and say, "Did you see that?  Wasn't that awesome?"  I could nod and agree that it was awesome because I had seen it all.  If I had been climbing myself I would have missed the joy on their faces.

Everyone needs an audience, and more and more I am asked to stop what I am doing to listen or watch.  Sometimes I do and sometimes I don't.  Sometimes I recognize the importance of the fleeting moment of watching a Ninja Turtle battle and I stop what I'm doing to pay attention.  Often I am overwhelmed with the task at hand and cannot stop.  

My brain is a constant rotating to-do list and sometimes that consumes me.  I am grateful for the times that I am at work rotating through my list and someone comes and interrupts me so I can listen.  I am thankful for the times that my kids stop me from what I'm doing so I can refocus on something beyond myself.  I'm still trying to learn to be grateful for phone call interruptions.  

I know that I am important, a contributing member of the human race.  I also know now that I am not the only member and sometimes my job is to just sit and listen.

Boyette Summer of Fun

When the kids were little and I stayed at home, our fun activities were going to the library, zoo, and museum.  They're older now and still love that, but since they're both in school, I spend a long time each May planning out what we are going to do each summer.  Most activities we participate in are free, and many of my friends want to know about them, so I thought I'd share some of our schedule.

In June
Monday mornings at 9 a.m. the zoo opens early for members.  This happens every Monday in June and we're not going to miss it!

Wednesday, June 12 at 10:30 a.m. the Amon Carter Museum has free story time with a craft.  Click the link for details.  This happens every Wednesday and we're going to try to make them often.

4:00 p.m. the Modern Art Museum has Wonderful Wednesdays with free admission and an explanation of an artist shown at the gallery.  There is also a craft, often a sketch.

Friday, June 14 at 6 p.m. the Cowgirl Museum will have a Battle of the Burger.  Admission is free and there will be armadillo races!  As an added bonus, Adam will be at this event in his official capacity as a Sugar Daddy (men's PTA at Claire's school).

On June 26 we'll be in Arlington for a free concert at the Levitt Pavillion.  The band is Vocal Trash and they sound like they'll be interesting.  This show happens twice, so we'll hit the one that fits our schedule.

Another activity we'll do are the Free Fish Feedings at Bass Pro Shop on Wednesdays at 12:30 p.m.

Every Saturday during the summer you can buy a family TRE pass at the ITC station for $10.  We'll be using that more than once to go to the Perot Museum in Dallas, or the Dallas Museum of Art, etc. etc.

On July 17 at 9:30 a.m. we'll go to Calloway's Nursery for Tin-Can Painting.  Free.

We always try to hit as many museums as possible and visit downtown Fort Worth to feel fancy, visit the library, and ride Molly the Trolley for free.  This year I might venture to take the kids to the Water Gardens; I'm a little bit braver and they're a little more steady on their feet.

The Fort Worth Public Library has a slew of activities and we'll go to many of them, but the one I want to tell people about is Lucas Miller.  We saw him last year and I can't say enough good about this singer-songwriter.  He writes catchy songs for kids about major science themes.  (He has one about symbiosis!)  He'll be in Fort Worth in July and I recommend it to everyone!  His program is called Science Rocks.  Click this link to see the schedule of his performances.  I bought one of his CDs last year for $10.  The kids have memorized it, and I even took it to school to play for my third graders.  If you want a sample of his songs, check out his youtube.  Here's one of the kids' favorites:

Innocence Lost

Yesterday was a heart-crushing day for me.
Claire, in a unexplained move, broke apart a puzzle Paul had completed.  Then they yelled at each other.  She stuck up her middle finger at him and he followed suit.
I was in the kitchen making dinner.  They were supposed to be getting ready for baths. At first, all I knew is that they had been yelling at each other.
Paul rushed in the kitchen to be the police reporter and tell me about the crimes that had just taken place.  Claire rushed in to label her brother a tattle tale.  I immediately separated them to find out the details.
Claire confessed to all crimes, and said she stuck up her middle finger because "it felt good to stretch it out." She knows what that  means because kids at school showed it to her and even explained it.  I had talked with her about it previously so she could understand how mean and hurtful and vulgar it was.
When I talked to Claire, she also told me Paul had done the same thing.  Paul is four.  He didn't even know what the middle finger was until his sister taught him just yesterday.  When I confronted him about it, he initially denied it but then told me the truth.
I didn't yell at them.  In classic Love and Logic style, I told them I was sad but not to worry because we'll figure out what the consequence is later.
It turns out the consequence is a sad mommy, no night-night stories, uncomfortable silence, and no television for an extended period of time.
I sent them to bed immediately after dinner, at 6:30 p.m.  They were in bed for ten minutes or so when Claire realized I hadn't put curlers in her hair.  Adam or I have curled her hair every day this week and she's looked gorgeous at school.  I told her no, I was too sad to curl her hair.  Not tonight.
What makes me more sad than the actual events that took place, awful as they were, is that there is no way I can protect them from the world.  Just one month ago, Claire, age 6, had never seen someone raise the middle finger.  We don't watch much television around here, and when we do it's Power Rangers or Wheel of Fortune.  Adam and I are very conscious about what the kids are exposed to and even our behavior in front of them.  But I cannot follow my child around the playground at school every day.
Sure, I could home-school my children, but eventually they will have to learn  how to live in the real world and not under Mama's protective wing.  I do believe it's better for them to learn how to live in society now where they can grow up with other children and gradually learn about the world, rather than protecting them at home until a determined date when I thrust them out into the world unaware.
So all I can do is explain as much as possible and offer them love.  I silently held Claire last night for at least 15 minutes while she cried.  Paul fell immediately asleep and apologized several times.
It's hard being a parent, because even if you paint the world with rainbows and butterflies, sometimes darkness seeps in.  Like Eve and the apple, once world-knowledge is obtained, it isn't lost.  This is just a fact of life.  My kids are growing up.  I can be in hiding and denial or I can work hard to help them understand the world around them.

My life as a cussing tour guide

Before I had kids, I was a teacher.  As such, when Paul was born, I quit my career to teach my own children.  Claire was two at the time and arrived home from day care counting to 10.  Most parents would rejoice at that, but I nearly cried.  I was crushed that I wasn't able to teach her that fundamental skill.
Since then, my children's worlds grow every day.  Try as I might, it is impossible for me to teach them everything about the world as well as all the book knowledge they will need to succeed.

I often view myself as a tour guide in my children's lives.  Sometimes I take them places where I can explain what they are experiencing as they are experiencing it.  And sometimes they see something and I have to stop the tour bus to go back and explain it.

Lately, that has manifested itself in the area of foul language.  I really don't curse in front of the kids.  I like to think I'm creative enough to avoid it.  "Oh, Shhhhenanigans!"

Claire came home at the beginning of the year and asked me what cruss words were.  It took me a few minutes to realize she had combined curse words and cuss words.  Explaining what curse words were piqued her interest and she was asking me all sorts of questions:  "Is stupid a cuss word?  Is butt?  Is dumb?" Knowing that she wouldn't quit until she had one in her head to meet the formula, I shared the word "sh**" with her.  She then understood that these were words she hadn't been exposed to and wasn't supposed to say.  I told Adam about this exchange and he couldn't believe I actually shared a forbidden word with our daughter.  I'm not sure what he would have done had he been in the car at that moment.  He wasn't mad at me, just perplexed.

So over the course of this first grade year, I've had to navigate through the minefield of okay and not okay words.  Never before was I so aware of all the gray area in our language.  No, stupid is not a cuss word, but you shouldn't say it because it's not nice.  I think I've done a successful job of confusing Claire, and definitely Paul when he's been in earshot of these conversations.

Two weeks ago Claire was sharing with me, her tour guide, a fact she had learned at school that day.  "Mama, I know what the middle finger means now.  It means F---."  I nearly choked at her nonchalance, but she was just sharing knowledge with me, like she always does.  She didn't realize this was a forbidden word.

The curse word situation has escalated at the playground and classroom.  Other students, whom I love, who are good kids, are dropping F bombs on the playground or flipping each other off when the teacher's not looking.  I know this because Claire is like a news reporter.  Everything that happens in at school is recorded for repeat to me later.  I often check her facts and find them to be pretty near true and uneditorialized.

This situation sounds pretty out of control and horrifying, but I know each and every person involved, and I'm not horrified.  Claire has an excellent teacher who loves her students, including Claire.  She works just as hard as she can to meet each student's needs.  She really is awesome and I've got nothing but respect for her.  She has her class under control, but she cannot avoid ever turning around or hold each child's hand on the playground to make sure they are using appropriate language.

And for the kids, I know from asking questions, that this is not an angry thing.  This is about growing older and obtaining new knowledge.  This is about trying out new things to see if they work.  They are not angry at each other when they use the F word or when they flip each other off.  They are stretching their legs, learning independence, and figuring out what works for them.  This is about obtaining a new vocabulary word and trying it on for size.

And the kicker for me is that I can't raise my child in a bubble.  Even if I had the money to enroll her in an expensive private school, chances are, the kids there know these words too and the same thing would happen.

For me, the way I deal with this is with prayer, many deep breaths, and ears to listen.  As the kids gain new knowledge, it is my job as their tour guide and mother to help them understand the world around them.  Unfortunately I cannot travel everywhere with them, ready to cover their eyes and ears to the inappropriate.  I can be here to listen and offer some advice and a hug.

Love and Logic Skirts

This is what Paul looked like when I rolled out of bed this morning. Notice the lovely ballerina skirt. I could say this is the first time it's happened, but that would be a lie. One time I put him to bed and he woke up in a grass skirt. As part of our "Love and Logic" parenting, we put the kids to bed (together if they want) and let them go to sleep when they feel ready. Sometimes this means they go right to sleep, but sometimes it means they stay up late playing dressup together. Last night when I went to bed at 10, there was a tea party going on in Claire's room. For some reason, Barbie had a teacup on her head. Paul's skirt happened sometime between 10 p.m. and 6 a.m. Adam and I took a Love and Logic class when Claire was about one year old. We have consistently benefited from the course. There are several one-liners that we use consistently: "Uh-oh. Little bit of room time coming right up!" and "I love you too much to argue with you." are our favorites. We use them so much that the kids have taken to saying them. I have heard both Claire and Paul in a dispute say, "I love you too much to argue with you!" It's pretty awesome.