I recently made brownies. After cooking them and cutting them into bite-size pieces, I left them to cool on the stove.
Later, as I prepared dinner, Ken kept me company. I noticed him hanging around the stove area.
At one point the kids joined us in the kitchen. All of a sudden they yelled, "I WANT ONE, TOO!"
I looked up from what I was working on. I thought, what could they possible want or need right before dinner?
Ken guiltily looked at me and showed me his mouth full of brownie crumbs.
So, glaring at him with a little smirk, I said, "Way to set an example for your children, DAD."
He defended himself, "Well, at least everyone knows that I'm going to eat my entire dinner."
Like, they understand.....
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Preschool Transition
After searching high and low for a preschool, I found a program for Dagny that is absolutely wonderful. I just wish I had found it two years ago for Valerie to attend. The school is called Magic Years, and I can confirm that the school is truly magical.
Dagny started school the day after Labor Day. The school takes a transitional approach. At first, one parent is required to stay with their child in the classroom. Over time, as each child becomes more trusting of the incredible teachers, the parent takes potty breaks and visits the "mommy" room where the mom (or occasional dad) can be summoned at any given moment. Then, the parent leaves the "mommy" room to complete short errands. Eventually, the parent is able to leave the child for the full three hour program.
With Valerie, I recall, dropping her off at school. We were literally ripped apart as she screamed and reached for me. Walking me out the door, the teachers scoffed at my misery assuring me that, "She'll be fine once you leave. The faster you leave, the faster she'll recover." I'm not so sure that ever happened. In retrospect, what a mistake Valerie's first school experience was.
I am truly amazed at how wonderful this transition approach is at Dagny's school. I've become a true believer. It took Dagny three weeks to complete the transition. Of course, I can't help but feel mixed emotions that she is fully transitioned. While it's so great that she enjoys school, part of my heart aches that she doesn't NEED me like she once did. But, what is so wonderful about this idea of a first school experience is that it really works: no tears, no separation anxiety, and no fear of abandonment. Why don't more schools do this?
To show you how genuinely happy she is, here's my baby girl waiting to go into school:
Dagny started school the day after Labor Day. The school takes a transitional approach. At first, one parent is required to stay with their child in the classroom. Over time, as each child becomes more trusting of the incredible teachers, the parent takes potty breaks and visits the "mommy" room where the mom (or occasional dad) can be summoned at any given moment. Then, the parent leaves the "mommy" room to complete short errands. Eventually, the parent is able to leave the child for the full three hour program.
With Valerie, I recall, dropping her off at school. We were literally ripped apart as she screamed and reached for me. Walking me out the door, the teachers scoffed at my misery assuring me that, "She'll be fine once you leave. The faster you leave, the faster she'll recover." I'm not so sure that ever happened. In retrospect, what a mistake Valerie's first school experience was.
I am truly amazed at how wonderful this transition approach is at Dagny's school. I've become a true believer. It took Dagny three weeks to complete the transition. Of course, I can't help but feel mixed emotions that she is fully transitioned. While it's so great that she enjoys school, part of my heart aches that she doesn't NEED me like she once did. But, what is so wonderful about this idea of a first school experience is that it really works: no tears, no separation anxiety, and no fear of abandonment. Why don't more schools do this?
To show you how genuinely happy she is, here's my baby girl waiting to go into school:
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
Practice What You Preach
I asked about Valerie's teachers and what their names were.
Me: Valerie, what's the name of the teacher with long blonde hair? You know she's kind of plump.
Valerie: Mommy, you aren't supposed to talk about the way people look!
Nice to know she listened.....
Me: Valerie, what's the name of the teacher with long blonde hair? You know she's kind of plump.
Valerie: Mommy, you aren't supposed to talk about the way people look!
Nice to know she listened.....
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
The First Day
When I picked Valerie up from school yesterday, I asked what the best thing she did on her first day.
Her response was, "EVERYTHING mommy!"
It was nice to hear such enthusiasm.
Her response was, "EVERYTHING mommy!"
It was nice to hear such enthusiasm.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Bittersweet Transition
Today marked Valerie's first day at her new school. Many at-home parents happily anticipate "back-to-school" so they can celebrate a few hours of freedom each day. Parents can visit the grocery store without finding mysterious cookies in the shopping basket or debating over which cereal to purchase with their little youngsters. I, too, can admit that accomplishing such daily tasks without the company of my oldest child will make my day run a little more smoothly.
However, I cannot help but feel a little melancholy about my big girl going to school all day. While we filled our summer days with a variety of fun activities, there were so many more things we could have done this summer (not that they would have fit into our schedule).
As part of this morning's rush, I documented my big girl's big day with a photograph:
You can see below, Valerie's transition to school was pretty tough:
I feel better that she was busy and happy when I departed instead of her sobbing and me being forced to leave.
In my spare moments, I work on the list of activities for next summer.
However, I cannot help but feel a little melancholy about my big girl going to school all day. While we filled our summer days with a variety of fun activities, there were so many more things we could have done this summer (not that they would have fit into our schedule).
As part of this morning's rush, I documented my big girl's big day with a photograph:
You can see below, Valerie's transition to school was pretty tough:
I feel better that she was busy and happy when I departed instead of her sobbing and me being forced to leave.
In my spare moments, I work on the list of activities for next summer.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Remembrance
This is what I wrote last year in reference to the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001:
"Three years ago today, I lived in Brooklyn, NY and worked in Manhattan as a money manager. Everyone in Manhattan that day has their own story to tell & I will spare you the details my particular story. However, at the time, I had a 4 month old baby. Had I not been a wife and a mother on 9/11/01, I am certain my life would be very different today. I was absolutely devoted to both my career and to my family. But being a mother certainly made that day unique for me. In the immediate aftermath of the planes crashing into the towers, I do not remember being concerned with myself. My fear was whether or not my husband and I could make it back to our baby girl so she would grow up with at least one of us. My mission that day was for one of us to get home to her. My husband was closest, so he walked home over the Brooklyn Bridge. In the hours that followed & the difficulties encountered in walking home, I was given plenty of time to think. I realized that as a mother and a parent, I am responsible for meeting my children's needs. On 9/11, I was not available to meet my daughter's needs. Yes, I feared for all of our lives, but what struck me was that I was not available when my child possibly needed me most. She needed me to protect her in a potentially threatening situation and I had chosen to be away from her. It was my choice, because my job and career was not a necessity for our family's survival.
"So, after much deliberation, I realized that it was important for me to stay home with my children. I do not want to be away from them during a time of crisis again. Now, there are plenty of days (esp potty training) when I think it is much easier to negotiate with adults than children. What am I DOING as a full-time parent? There are plenty of days when my former colleagues call me, hear me talking to my young children, and ask me why I gave up so much to just stay home. There are plenty of other mothers (e.g. the crazy working mom on Dr. Phil a week ago) who think that I am wasting myself. However, there is NO time that I regret my decision to be with my children. We all make our own choices and I am very respectful of everyone's decision. I just wish that our society could be more respectful of every mother's situation, whether they have a choice or not.
"I wish you all much peace on this day of remembrance."
Last night I watched an HBO documentary featuring former Mayor Rudolf Giuliani. I sobbed uncontrollably at various parts of the film. Yet, I could not pry my eyes from the television screen.
At one point, Giuliani says, "...through our tears, we grow stronger...."
And we do. It's important to remember. It's important to remember why we choose to do the things we do. And most importantly, it's important to appreciate all that we have.
"Three years ago today, I lived in Brooklyn, NY and worked in Manhattan as a money manager. Everyone in Manhattan that day has their own story to tell & I will spare you the details my particular story. However, at the time, I had a 4 month old baby. Had I not been a wife and a mother on 9/11/01, I am certain my life would be very different today. I was absolutely devoted to both my career and to my family. But being a mother certainly made that day unique for me. In the immediate aftermath of the planes crashing into the towers, I do not remember being concerned with myself. My fear was whether or not my husband and I could make it back to our baby girl so she would grow up with at least one of us. My mission that day was for one of us to get home to her. My husband was closest, so he walked home over the Brooklyn Bridge. In the hours that followed & the difficulties encountered in walking home, I was given plenty of time to think. I realized that as a mother and a parent, I am responsible for meeting my children's needs. On 9/11, I was not available to meet my daughter's needs. Yes, I feared for all of our lives, but what struck me was that I was not available when my child possibly needed me most. She needed me to protect her in a potentially threatening situation and I had chosen to be away from her. It was my choice, because my job and career was not a necessity for our family's survival.
"So, after much deliberation, I realized that it was important for me to stay home with my children. I do not want to be away from them during a time of crisis again. Now, there are plenty of days (esp potty training) when I think it is much easier to negotiate with adults than children. What am I DOING as a full-time parent? There are plenty of days when my former colleagues call me, hear me talking to my young children, and ask me why I gave up so much to just stay home. There are plenty of other mothers (e.g. the crazy working mom on Dr. Phil a week ago) who think that I am wasting myself. However, there is NO time that I regret my decision to be with my children. We all make our own choices and I am very respectful of everyone's decision. I just wish that our society could be more respectful of every mother's situation, whether they have a choice or not.
"I wish you all much peace on this day of remembrance."
Last night I watched an HBO documentary featuring former Mayor Rudolf Giuliani. I sobbed uncontrollably at various parts of the film. Yet, I could not pry my eyes from the television screen.
At one point, Giuliani says, "...through our tears, we grow stronger...."
And we do. It's important to remember. It's important to remember why we choose to do the things we do. And most importantly, it's important to appreciate all that we have.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Appearances
Recently, the girls and I ran an errand to Target or the supermarket or somewhere. With my brain, it's hard to remember where we were exactly. I just recall the moment we checked out with the cashier.
As we faced the clerk, a rather large man passed through the next check-out line. Valerie's eyes grew large and her mouth fell open. Her thoughts spewed out of her mouth, "Mommy, that man is SOOOO BIG!"
I cringed. Of course, everyone knows that young children say things like this. Parents try to anticipate such embarrassing moments by discussing manners at less embarrassing moments. Despite the awkwardness of the moment, I opportunistically used the moment for educational purposes.
I agree, it was a fact that the man was large. Some people would note positively that my daughter was speaking the truth.
However, in that split second, I stated in a normal voice, "Honey, in our culture we do not discuss people's appearances. It's just not nice." Then, I let it go.
It seems, many adults in our society have not learned this lesson in our society. I remember during my pregnancies the incessant questions and comments of a couple of grown-ups: "How much WEIGHT have you gained?" "You're looking awfully rotund!" "You shouldn't eat that (string cheese and a granola bar) because you'll get FAT!" Typically, I am a petite woman. When I heard these comments, my feeling were interminably hurt and the relationships are probably irreparable. But then, my hormones raged during those nine months and I was certainly oversensitive. Regardless, I will never forget the insensitivity of the comments. In our culture, it is just plain rude to comment on the way others look.
Once in the car, I asked Valerie, "How would you feel if I told you that you looked too big?"
Valerie: Bad
Me: How would you feel if I said that you looked too small or skinny?
Valerie: Sad
Me: How do you think that man felt when he heard you say that he was "SOOOO BIG"?
Valerie: He felt bad.
Me: Maybe you should keep thoughts about the way others look to yourself. I feel really bad for that man right now.
And by the look on her face, she felt bad, too.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm speaking to a brick wall. I just hope that if I repeat myself enough, something might sink into my daughters' heads.
As we faced the clerk, a rather large man passed through the next check-out line. Valerie's eyes grew large and her mouth fell open. Her thoughts spewed out of her mouth, "Mommy, that man is SOOOO BIG!"
I cringed. Of course, everyone knows that young children say things like this. Parents try to anticipate such embarrassing moments by discussing manners at less embarrassing moments. Despite the awkwardness of the moment, I opportunistically used the moment for educational purposes.
I agree, it was a fact that the man was large. Some people would note positively that my daughter was speaking the truth.
However, in that split second, I stated in a normal voice, "Honey, in our culture we do not discuss people's appearances. It's just not nice." Then, I let it go.
It seems, many adults in our society have not learned this lesson in our society. I remember during my pregnancies the incessant questions and comments of a couple of grown-ups: "How much WEIGHT have you gained?" "You're looking awfully rotund!" "You shouldn't eat that (string cheese and a granola bar) because you'll get FAT!" Typically, I am a petite woman. When I heard these comments, my feeling were interminably hurt and the relationships are probably irreparable. But then, my hormones raged during those nine months and I was certainly oversensitive. Regardless, I will never forget the insensitivity of the comments. In our culture, it is just plain rude to comment on the way others look.
Once in the car, I asked Valerie, "How would you feel if I told you that you looked too big?"
Valerie: Bad
Me: How would you feel if I said that you looked too small or skinny?
Valerie: Sad
Me: How do you think that man felt when he heard you say that he was "SOOOO BIG"?
Valerie: He felt bad.
Me: Maybe you should keep thoughts about the way others look to yourself. I feel really bad for that man right now.
And by the look on her face, she felt bad, too.
Sometimes, I feel like I'm speaking to a brick wall. I just hope that if I repeat myself enough, something might sink into my daughters' heads.
Friday, September 9, 2005
Hurricane Relief
For anyone looking to donate something other than money check out this donations clearinghouse.
The intent is to establish direct connections between those with things to donate and the people who need them.
The intent is to establish direct connections between those with things to donate and the people who need them.
Wednesday, September 7, 2005
Dreaming For A Pony
At yesterday's play-date, Valerie came face-to-face with a canine. Despite the four-legged creature being rather older and quite gentle, she was immensely displeased to share oxygen with the pooch. In fact, her face revealed signs of utter terror.
During the normal dinner-time discussion recounting the various activities of each family member's day, we discussed Valerie's play-date. The issue of the fearful dog came up.
Daddy: Why didn't you like the dog, Valerie?
Valerie: It was big and mean! (Turns out the dog is a bit of a groaner.)
Daddy: What would you think if we get a dog here?
Valerie: I don't want a dog. (The desire changes weekly.)
Daddy: If we got a dog, we would get a baby dog, a puppy at first, who would grow big over time.
Valerie: I don't want a dog.
Daddy: Why not?
Valerie: I want a pony!
Pause
Mommy: (chiming in) You can get a pony when you grow up and get a job and can pay for it yourself.
Daddy: Yeah, it turn out your mom and I aren't really horse people.
Why do so many little girls dream of owning a pony when they are little? I guess it's good to dream big.....
During the normal dinner-time discussion recounting the various activities of each family member's day, we discussed Valerie's play-date. The issue of the fearful dog came up.
Daddy: Why didn't you like the dog, Valerie?
Valerie: It was big and mean! (Turns out the dog is a bit of a groaner.)
Daddy: What would you think if we get a dog here?
Valerie: I don't want a dog. (The desire changes weekly.)
Daddy: If we got a dog, we would get a baby dog, a puppy at first, who would grow big over time.
Valerie: I don't want a dog.
Daddy: Why not?
Valerie: I want a pony!
Pause
Mommy: (chiming in) You can get a pony when you grow up and get a job and can pay for it yourself.
Daddy: Yeah, it turn out your mom and I aren't really horse people.
Why do so many little girls dream of owning a pony when they are little? I guess it's good to dream big.....
Tuesday, September 6, 2005
Soccer Kid
Today, we bought shin guards and cleats for Valerie's first year of soccer. Despite the first practice and game being this Saturday, she insisted on testing out the new ensemble...
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