Today is day 3 of the kids being home for winter break. DH and I planned a day at the Museum of Natural History in Manhattan. Needless to say, such an outing, even with only six of the seven kids, is a production. Lots of planning…..
DH broke his toe last night (I can’t even begin to explain.) So either we had to cancel, or I had to take five of them on my own. That wasn’t going to happen. Especially after yesterday’s near melt-down.
One rule of thumb I learned (the hard way) a long time ago is that I don’t discuss big plans like these with the kids much ahead of time. This way when they don’t work out there is little whining and disappointment.
Another, is that kids like small, easy and familiar outings as much if not more than a big production of a trip that requires travel, planning, and is usually exhausting.
Today was a case in point. Instead of our big day at the museum, we counted out the money in their banks, did lots of fun math to total the amounts, and trotted off to the local bank to open FIVE student bank accounts. This including explaining to my four y.o. at least ten times that she would still have her money, just at the big bank not in her piggy bank. Luckily someone came in to use their safety deposit box. She sort of interpreted what I told her to mean that she was going to have her $18 stored in one of those… and I let her leave believing it.
The people at the local PNC branch deserve a lot of credit for their patience.
We then went to a friend’s to watch an American Girl movie on DVD…. for some reason the fact that it took place during the Great Depression was enough to get the boys to watch it. Everyone loved the movie. My eight year old son got a lot of pleasure out of the fact that Ima cried at the end, for some reason.
The last exciting outing of the day was a trip to Target to use the gift cards the children received for Chanukah. That was my idea, the gift cards. I must remember to post a blog about what a terrible idea that was.
They were thrilled. A full and fun day. So, so, so much easier than a 90-minute each way trek into NYC to the Museum of Natural History on a day with record freezing winds…… and, for the record, I spent absolutely nothing.
So I had the nerve to go and get a cold. With a cough, that has flattened me for some reason. Probably because of the snow day yesterday. Fun, but took all of my energy.
I have read that it is just “known” that when husbands get sick the world stops, but when women do the world must go on. I am skeptical, to say the least. How do I know this isn’t just our letting them off the hook? I think men can plead ignorance to get away with not working as hard. “If I never learn how to do it, then I won’t be expected to,” right?
Is it really biological? Really? Or is it just crafty laziness? Do we let them get away with not doing as much as we do because we believe they can’t? And can they? There are stay at home dads, so certainly they must figure it out. I mean I certainly don’t feel that I was given a gift by Hashem in folding laundry, settling a dispute between to kids, supervising the Hebrew reading homework and answering a phone call all at the same time.
I have been told by many – MANY – that my husband is a rare gem in the amount he helps with the kids. He is such a great Abba, and he loves to play with them and to facilitate their playing with each other… but is that the same thing as being a really helpful spouse? Sometimes, I suppose.
There are a lot of things that have to happen other than their play. I really don’t buy that it is a woman’s make-up to make sure homework is done before too much fun is had. I think it is just a habit we develop after too many nights of “I can’t go to bed now, I have to do my homework.”
So does it mean I coddle? Do I do it all too well too often? The times I have been away or slacked because of illness haven’t seemed to fix the problem. Everything can always wait until Ima feels better.
I was sick today, and DH did a load of laundry. (Which is about 1/20th of the week’s.) I still had to make dinner, clean the dishes, and make sure homework got done – after some of them were supposed to be in bed.
So which is it? Unrealistic expectations? Male hardwiring?
I have a feeling I am going to have grown kids who don’t need me when I am sick before I am going to get a really good answer to my question.
Last night was the first real snowfall of the year. Although there was no school to cancel, it still feels like the first real snow day.
There are so many things unique and important I have learned the hard way about making a snow day successful – at least what I consider successful.
First of all, I try to always offer the snow plow guys that come some coffee or pancakes (see below). I don’t know for sure that they plow a little more for me, but I am pretty sure they do, and I think it models great hakarat hatov for the kids.
I took out the snow gear Thanksgiving weekend when I had a few hours to really work. Sorting what fits, getting out 7 (!) pairs of boots, gloves, etc. The pool gear bins in the coat closet became the hat bin and the glove bin. The odd gloves didn’t get thrown away, but are in a separate bag. That way when one is lost, and a child is desperate, out comes a mismatched glove to save the day.
Three years ago I went on-line and bought a wholesale package of kids’ waterproof gloves. There were 50 pair in the pack, all the same, with a variety of detail colors. Kind of like this listing: http://www.rhinomart.com/asst-water-prove-ski-glove-wholesale-item-249-4560/. I realize that 50 pairs may seem extreme, but I wound up paying a lot less (like half) per pair. I have a lot of kids who not only wear a lot of gloves but LOSE a lot of gloves. I have now had 3 years in a row with enough gloves, as we have slowly used them up. We have had enough when kids soak theirs and want a second (or third pair.) We have enough for stray kids that end up at our house and need extra gloves. And no getting upset when someone comes home without the ones they left with.
It was a great investment. Most of my kids are outgrowing them as we speak, and I will probably get a case of the next size up. The smartest will be to make do until February or March and buy them for next year, when they are really, really cheap.
Snow pants; they fit more sizes then the labels say, so I always keep them around despite the sizes listed until the winter comes and we can try them on. My size 8/10 boys are wearing size 6/7 snow pants. Again. I will buy at the end of the winter when they are on clearance for next year. Or wait until I get hand me downs, as I am often blessed to get.
My kids have come to know that I will make a bigger, homemade and hearty breakfast on a snow day. I have learned that if they go out with a filling warm breakfast in their tummy they will stay out longer. And complain less. Our favorite is healthy whole wheat, no sugar, no oil pancakes. Sounds awful I know. They are delicious. I use apple sauce; it is a modified version of a recipe on the Mott’s apple sauce jar. I will post the recipe today as well if I am given enough time. I use a lot of blueberries (frozen; I stock up when they are on sale,) and I give the kids cinnamon and sugar. I have to remember to write a separate cinnamon & sugar post, too.
Next; when kids come in from the snow, they are STARVING. I have learned to use this to my advantage. Although I will make hot cocoa, I usually have some fresh steamed veggies waiting on the table when they first get in. Or worse – leftovers! Once they devour whatever happens to be in front of them, I move on to what they may actually want to eat. Amazing.
Movies. Almost always a staple on snow day – but it really has to be its own post as well. So much to say….
Drying wet stuff; I try to have two of everything. I have hooks in the front hall, and I take the usually messy mix and get it out of there so the wet stuff can go there right away. Same for the shoe rack, which happens to be over a heating vent. It means the coats and hats are a big mess until the whole thing is over. The house is always a mess for snow day anyway. I have come to accept it is part of the fun.
I don’t like to go out and play in the snow. I love the excuse to not leave the house. I don’t like the cold. I have lived in CT, Boston, and Montreal (!), and I have had my fill of the cold and the snow. Unless there happen to be skis on my feet.
So one of my favorite things about having so many children is that they have lots of people to play with out in the snow and I don’t have to be one of them.
When I was starting this journey with my children, I used to be stunned at just how long a snow day seems to last. Today has been very long already; it is 11 am, and my children have gotten up, made and devoured a messy breakfast. Gone out in the snow, come back in, made snow slush, built a fort, and started two messy craft projects.
Expecting the day to stretch out and be amazingly long has been really helpful. I have come to just watch them and really, really enjoy the snow days. Enjoy them enjoying them. Enjoy the slower pace. Enjoy the mess. Allowing the peace of the snow to make it a peaceful – fun, messy, chaotic, long and tiring – but peaceful day.
Last week our local library invited Yosi, a childrens’ performer, to give a Chanukah concert. We don’t live in a large Jewish community, and the greater community does very little to acknowledge Jewish holidays. I was thrilled.
But Yosi got sick, and the event was cancelled. I called the library and offered to “fill in” and run a Chanukah Musical Party (as opposed to a concert) this week instead. After all, I reasoned, it is actually Chanukah this week. The children will have something instead of nothing, however lame it may be. It will be great marketing for my Jewish Mommy and Me program. And who knows? Maybe one more Jewish family will leave wanting to know more about their Judaism. …
I didn’t think it through, and I didn’t consider at the time how much I was setting myself up to flop, fail; embarrass me and my family.
The local outreach Rabbi was so pleased that I “think on my feet”, and jumped into the void quickly enough for it to work out. The library is thrilled! My kids are excited (the almost 10 year old is embarrassed in anticipation, I think).
I learned the word impetuous at a very early age from my father – about me. I have made very quick decisions much larger than whether or not to perform without an instrument or musicians – or a clue – in a small local library before.
After 18 months of college searching, 8 applications, etc, I decided to blow it all off, “defer” and go to Israel for the year. It was one of the best, and most pivotal decisions of my life.
I dated my husband for 8 months. Some considered that very short; for me it was far longer than I felt was necessary.
I suppose that some enjoy the comfort of safety. This isn’t a feeling I can relate to very much. It isn’t learned, it is an innate personality trait that I enjoy taking risks, knowing that I will sometimes fail. Unfortunately, this doesn’t come with an innate ability to deal with said failure.
The dictionary uses the term “rash” to somehow differentiate between impetuous and hasty. So are my decisions rash? Or just “thinking on my feet”?
Perhaps the only way to know is with that wonderful clarifier hindsight.
My first singing teacher taught me the trite phrase “life isn’t a dress rehearsal”. It resonated with me. I think more often than not I have been happy with the hasty decisions I have made.
I hope today’s performance is one of them. I have already expended a lot of energy with thoughts of “what was I thinking”.
I recently posted on facebook the following: “Nobody warned me that being a drama queen was an inheritable trait.”
One of the children that prompted that statement (I have at least a few drama kings and queens) twisted his ankle on a jungle gym at school. It would appear that he either will never walk again, or has to be rushed to an emergency room (maybe several) and clearly cannot help himself to anything, unless he wants it, and then hopping seems to work just fine. It isn’t broken.
I thought I would make a brilliant move and borrow crutches. Everyone knows that crutches are tiring, and hurt, and really aren’t much fun. In fact, the person we borrowed them from, who had suffered a more significant injury, stopped using them after day one or two, because they were such a “pain”.
So, instead of telling said child that they are full of baloney, and to stop whining and start moving, I got the crutches. Sure that this would result in a miraculous recovery, and a return to our relative state of sanity.
I got it wrong. He LOVES the crutches… and still is maintaining that he may just never walk again. He told me excitedly how the whole school was talking to and about him. There are many people in this house who apparently have yet to grow tired of fetching everything for him.
Do I let it play itself out? Do I drag him (and that means the baby ) to the dr. so a trained professional can tell him he is fine?
For now, I plan to take the approach my dear husband and I adopt the most:
“This too shall pass….”
I have a 19 month old that makes me want to pull my hair out – if not worse – just about every day. It really has nothing to do with his personality; I recall having similar feelings with all of my 19-month olds. Most of them weren’t very verbal, which is frustrating for them, and for me. In some cases, nursing has also been a factor, and it certainly is one now.
It really isn’t his fault; my current baby nursed constantly as an infant. I coped by nursing and typing (as mentioned in an earlier post). Only now every time I sit at the computer it is construed as an invitation to nurse. And I sit at the computer a great deal of the day.
The truth is that he is active, curious, and has a very reasonable expectation that someone (meaning me) will play with and entertain him all day, and take care of the house, the other kids, the bills and work – all during his hour-long nap.
I blame myself and get quite harsh with the “ima guilt” over how little that interests me. I do drop everything and play with him — so that I can jump back to “getting things done”. It doesn’t help that I know that his proper development is the thing I am supposed to be “getting done.” I wish it did.
I dealt with this issue with each of my children, and I had one simple solution that worked every time. A mother’s helper. With so many little children so close in age it was easy to justify a second set of hands to give me a break now and again. This way, with frequency depending on the child, someone would take said toddler to the park, or play trains, or spend an hour over lunch, etc… and that someone didn’t have to be me. This was not only great for my endless pursuit of doing too many things at once, but it allowed me a pause in the constant desire to pull out my hair – or worse.
My circumstances no longer make it as easy for me to justify the help. I am going to have to see if delaying getting help with him will result in my needing help for me. In the meantime, I am resolving to do “work” as much as possible after he goes to sleep. All of the rest of my work, i.e. taking care of my family, he will just have to do alongside me.
I did some digging into whether there are other moms with 19 month olds that want to pull their hair out — or worse. And that is how I was reminded (I really did already know) that the terrible twos are just like everything else in the development of a child; “on a scale”. Every child comes to things in their own time. Including being infuriating. They don’t wake up on their second birthday being difficult… getting that way is a process that takes time; growing out of it unfortunately is too.
I did find it redeeming to read that time-outs are not too sophisticated for a child that a) understands verbal commands and b) is clearly defying them on purpose in order to test his/her parents. This is really nice to read, since we have been doing it anyway.
One other way I cope is to blog. While perhaps not even my friends will actually read through such a long posting, I have at least had the chance to record it.
I like newborns and elementary schoolers better than “difficult toddlers”, “terrible twos”, or whatever inappropriate label we want to give them. It doesn’t mean I don’t love my child, of course. It means I have enough honesty to recognize that some phases work better for some of us than others. And who would have thought I would enjoy my preteen and my teenager more than a cute little toddler? I think that is something to feel good and proud about.
While I should be doing lots of things other than blogging at the moment, I will use my son’s still frequent nursing as my rationale, and post a quick message. (Yes, I type and nurse at the same time. Sorry if that provides an unpleasant image to some readers. )
My sons ask me annually why certain religious jews do not celebrate Thanksgiving. I don’t have any great answers for them, which is probably why it is an annual inquiry.
This year my answer, in earnest, is that the Jewish people are blessed to celebrate Thanksgiving every day. I see my friends on facebook pausing to reflect on their blessing from Hashem. Which is great. But I also know that this is my obligation according to Halacha every single day. I am grateful that the United States is the kind of country that encourages everyone else to be conscious of our “brachot hashachar” for one day, and gives everyone a long weekend to feel grateful in the company of family and friends.
Prior to my (first) aliyah, I did not take Thanksgiving very seriously. I scoffed at most things American, and took a lot for granted. The truth is, I took almost everything in my life for granted. I was in my early twenties….
When I met my husband in Israel, I remember his rebuke that I should be happy and grateful to have Thanksgiving, to be an American, and to be blessed with a life of the freedoms that growing up in America afforded to me. Even as an expatriot, he pointed out to me how blessed as olim in Israel we were to have come from an American upbringing.
Since that year, I have come to appreciate Thanksgiving (and the freedoms in the United States) more and more. If we could bring the best (and only the best) of what America is built upon to Israel, the country would be much better for it.
I think that the foundation of Thanksgiving, or gratitude, is humility. As is most of Judaism. Knowing that everything we have, we do, and we struggle with are all gifts from our creator to help us learn, grow and improve can only lead to tremendous gratitude.
I hope that you are having a wonderful day of Thanksgiving and gratitude wherever you are, and that you are reading this after the holiday because you are too busy enjoying your blessings to read today.
