Back to School: Organizing the (In)Sanity for Kids and Parents

School supplies: check.  New clothes: check.  Finding out teacher assignments and seeing friends after a long summer: check.  Ready to learn: well...

Photo Credit: Digitalphotonut

It’s taken me more than a couple years of being a mom and going through the back-to-school routine to realize that preparing and organizing to go back to school is more than just filling a backpack with supplies and wearing some of the latest fashions.  In fact, it’s much more.  While some kids look forward with anticipation to the new classroom, new teacher, and new challenges, others are filled with angst about settling into a new environment , anxiety about whether their teacher will be approachable or intimidating, and fear about not being able to learn the information.

Take my oldest, for example.  He struggled quite a bit in third grade- not with the actual curriculum as much as with the “dynamic” (which in his case was a euphemism for “inconsistent”) classroom format of teaching.  He does not do well with change...and as a result of being forced to adapt to ongoing changes- and being in a perpetual state of being frustrated and feeling lost- came to the conclusion that he can’t “do” school.  He absolutely can, but he internalized his inability to keep up with the changes as an ineptitude for school.  (Insert exasperated sigh) Who says motherhood and parenting get easier as kids get older?  

I talked to his teacher- her solution was to sit down with him once or twice to help him organize the notebook he uses in class.  I talked to the school counselor (since his deflating self confidence was carrying over into his social interactions)- her solution was to sit down with him and help him organize his notebook...differently.  I did my best from home to help him be consistent with his homework schedule and where he put his completed work (which, more often than not, he didn’t turn in).  And while I emailed his teacher regularly, I just didn’t feel he was getting the support he needed.  At the same time, he was getting to an age where too much coddling and too accommodating can perpetuate his feeling of incompetence, which would surely contribute to his declining self esteem.  And this was only THIRD grade!  

So, while I will be the first to admit that I’m breathing a sigh of relief now that summer is over, I have carried a certain hesitation going into this next school year.  I keep asking myself, “How can I help him get/stay organized?”.  Then it occurred to me that no one was actually teaching him the skills on how to be organized; they were just telling him where to put things.  He needed to understand how to organize his thoughts first so that he could organize his actions.   

The saying, “A goal without a plan is just a wish” has never made more sense to me.  

He needed a plan for getting organized that he could apply to any challenge or situation, no matter where he was.  Here’s what I came up with:

It’s pretty self explanatory, but basically, it’s all about being prepared so that you have the best possible chances for success.  And who doesn’t want to be successful?  It’s simple enough to be able remember and understand, and flexible enough to apply to most situations.  And best of all, it makes him feel in control of the situation.

We’ve revisited this a few times together when frustration levels begin to escalate and have found that it helps diffuse the situation and bring the focus back to the task at hand.  We also followed up our introduction of this concept with a labeling gun session where we labeled important things in his environment to help make life, well, more organized- like where to put shoes, his soccer gear, his homework pencils, and other things he often loses that contribute to his (and my) frustration insanity.

So far he’s more organized, and I’m more sane, so I call that success!  And it applies to more than just life with kids- my husband and I have even found ourselves putting these specific ideas into practice outside of being parents when we are feeling overwhelmed.  And, you know what?  It helps!  Give it a try next time you feel insanity taking over.  

What back to school tips and ideas do you have for making the transition smoother for everyone?

Musings on Playground Judgement

The way I see it, most of us parents out there fall into three categories when it comes to supervising our kids on the playground.  We can be 1) overprotective, 2) over permissive, 3) somewhere in between.  And, just as the kids are quick to size up potential playmates, parents are quick to size up each other on the playground.  He’s totally fixated on his phone and not even watching his kid who’s throwing rocks, She’s hovering over her child like a hawk and won’t even let her play on the structure...

Photo: Roughcollie

I am an “in between” parent (or at least I think I am).   Many of our park excursions with the overprotective parent result in my child either somehow making the other child cry (usually by accident), or teaching them some undesirable behavior/words/other means of problem solving.  They’re kids, they’re still figuring stuff out.  Conversely, when we encounter children of over permissive parents I have to run double duty to make sure my kids don’t enthusiastically follow theirs out of sight or mimic them jumping off the top of the play structure.  

I have to admit, however, that I’ve been both.  And because of that I try not to judge.  Like when we went to the park a few days ago.  My kids were pretending they were on a pirate ship, and when a newcomer came aboard he was met with loud, hostile “pirates” (my 3 year old son and daughter, plus one other).  Before I could intervene and remind them that the structure was for everyone, the dad of the new child called my kids “brats”, instructed his kid to call my kids “brats”, and then removed his child from the play structure to play somewhere else.  

So my kids followed him.  There are a couple other things worth mentioning.  The boy was the same age (three) as my son and sporting a cap gun (which my son thought was the coolest thing ever).   And the dad looked stereotypically gangster-ish with his attire and tattoos, and the way he carried himself.  After my son apologized to the other boy, the kids got over it and played happily together for the better part of an hour.

I could have been passive and let it go, knowing the problem had been resolved without my involvement.  Or, I could have been overprotective and addressed this man for calling my kids “brats” unjustly.  But I could tell this dad was out of his comfort zone and he was defending his kid the best way he knew how.  Putting my stereotypes aside, I befriended him.  I explained that my child wasn’t trying to be mean, he was just playing “pirate”.  I also mentioned that my son was the same age (since he’s often mistaken for a five year old because of his size), and, like all three year olds, was still learning to play cooperatively.  Before you knew it, the dad relaxed, was equally friendly and the kids had a lot of fun together.

And, while I think that dad will probably continue to be overprotective and rescue his little guy in these types of situations, hopefully he can appreciate that sometimes it’s just a misunderstanding, and not meant to be personal.  And, maybe, just maybe, he left the park that day feeling a little less judgemental about stereotypes...like the “suburban stay at home mom”.  I know I did.

What kind of playground parent are you and how has that shaped your experience with others?

Sticks and Stones...

May break my bones...but the rest is totally untrue! Just ask any kid (or grown up, for that matter)- words hurt! I’ve heard this is especially problematic with grade-school girls, but since I’m not there yet, my only experience so far is with boys. But it still rings true, especially if you have a sensitive kid, and especially if he is associated in any way with being a baby.

My seven and nine year old had their first lesson in virality and how, once you put it out there, there’s no taking it back. I’m sure the seven year old didn’t intend to be mean- this is the comedian who often speaks before he thinks- but his hurtful and inaccurate words about his brother “playing with baby toys” were blurted out in an effort to get laughs...and spread like wildfire. (Note to self: another thing to add to the list of why being a mom makes me a better person- MEAN IS NOT FUNNY).

Anyway, the three of us had a long discussion about being careful about we say about others, being family and sticking together, and the importance of talking in truths. The reality is, the babies (who are now 3 ½ and not really babies) like all the toys their big brothers play with, so it’s not fair to say that his brother plays with baby toys just because they play together. And, for the record, the seven year old plays with them too. They are learning the hard way that things like this can’t be undone. And, unfortunately, it’s a lifelong lesson they may have to learn more than once.

But this whole situation got me thinking...if it weren’t my other son (and his brother) that started this “rumor”, knowing my nine year old is feeling ostracized, would I have taken a different course of action? Would I be expressing my concerns to the principal about the kid who is bullying my child? I think I would have...which is a reality check as far as I’m concerned.

While I do believe that bullying is a real problem, I think our kids are SO aware of it that they lose their ability to confront issues and problem solve, and label any mean thing another kid does as being “bullied”. We’ve made our kids hyper-sensitive, when, really, kids can just be mean. Period. I, for one, think that the sooner my kids realize and understand the difference between a real bully and a bad decision, the better off they will be. I didn’t “get it” until I was out of high school, but some people never “get it”. Best they learn now, don’t you think?

This is Motherhood!

Some aspects of parenting come more naturally to me than others. Give me a child who’s sick and I can confidently nurse them back to health in no time. Challenge me with a child who is emotionally complicated and having trouble expressing anger and frustration...watch me panic. I’ve been reminded that I have a lot of work to do when it comes to parenting my nine year old...and myself.

My son has always been especially challenging to me as a parent, mostly because he and I are so alike in so many ways. And this is one of those times when I completely understand where he’s coming from...he’s having issues with a friend because his friend doesn’t want to play the same way as my son. An ongoing power struggle has ensued, which has brought out the meanness in both of them. I know my son doesn’t want to alienate his friend, I know he likes playing with him, but he’s extremely frustrated and angry that he’s not feeling heard or acknowledged and it has manifested itself in a passive-aggressive way. Yet, he blames his friend for his anger because his friend is not cooperating. After giving him my best “you have to take responsibility for your own actions” and “we treat people the way we want to be treated” lecture, the bells rang clearly...

This is motherhood!

I live this constantly and on a daily basis. How many times a day do I tell my kids, “If you would just listen....”? Admittedly, my BIGGEST challenge as a mom is to RESPOND and not REACT to situations. My son’s too. Which is why I know I must model how to stop myself, reflect on the problems that arise, consider other people’s perspectives and work towards a solution. Calmly.

Once again I am reminded that motherhood makes me a better person because it puts my own character flaws in the spotlight and motives me to change them for the sake of my children. What has your journey taught you lately?

Who Stole the Cookie from the Cookie Jar?

I love my kids. I’d give my life for my kids. But they can’t have my cookies.

I know it sounds selfish, and it probably is (despite my rationale that I’m preventing them from eating unhealthy food by eating it myself), but motherhood is the second-ultimate sacrifice. Your life (and in the early stages your body) are not your own.

So in a life with kids where I can’t use the bathroom for two minutes without being beckoned by a loud “maaaahhhhaaammm” and my every activity revolves around responding (notice I don’t say “meeting”) their every demand there are a few sacred moments/rituals/items that bring me temporary joy and refuel my spirit for motherhood. Coffee at the crack of dawn by myself at the kitchen table is one of them....chocolate chip cookies is another. (It’s a good thing that running is another one...).

I keep my secret cookie stashes strategically placed around the kitchen and have perfected the art of sneaking them...or so I thought. I got caught red-handed again today by my oldest who demanded I show him what was in my hand. Talk about a role reversal! I balked for a second at the thought of sharing and then surrendered to guilt. But when I showed him he just smiled. He didn’t even ask for any (what can I say, he’s well trained!). I was so relieved by his reaction that it made me realize that sometimes it’s more important to be playful and mischievous than to be the ever rule-enforcing mom. We could all use a little more smiling and giggling.

I am unapologetic about my love for cookies and my reluctance to share them, but I think my kids love me anyway. So, I admit it, I stole the cookie from the cookie jar!

What do you rely on to get you through the day?

Camping Out

My 3 year old daughter was born to camp. It’s not her fault, it’s in her genes. (Not that there’s anything wrong with that.) And she’s only really been real camping once, but she’s a natural.

Which is the one thing I kept going back to over the past year and then some that she’s been sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag. Oh, she has a bed. A nice toddler bed with cute sheets with trains, trucks and airplanes. (She was supposed to have bed with the pretty pink flowered bedding, but true to her personality and intense competitiveness, she decided the bed intended for her brother was to be hers. Good thing he didn’t really care. And no one needs to know his bedding has pink flowers, right?).

But this is all beside the point. Following a visit from her Aunt (who is a wildlife biologist and spends much of her time camping) and thanks to the sleeping bag her Aunt left behind, my daughter has become a floor sleeper. Her bed sits empty while she chooses night after night to sleep in the sleeping bag on the floor. Hey, if she’s willing to actually sleep, I’m not going to complain about where that occurs, as long as I get to also.

So, now that we’ve played musical rooms and switched the bedrooms around, she and her twin brother have inherited the biggest bedroom...with wood floors. I thought this would be my opportunity to get her sleeping in her bed again. It’s not a huge issue, but I do like the thought of her being up off the floor for the sake of things that crawl. And so far she’s been receptive to the idea- as long as she still gets to sleep in her sleeping bag. Okay, great, that’s fair!

But I discovered something. She’s a super squirmy sleeper and has been rolling out of bed (still in her sleeping bag) multiple times a night and onto the wood floor. Her bed is low to the ground and it does have a small guard rail, but it’s no match for the wiggling girl in a sleeping bag that easily hurdles it. So, the problem now is that I’m up 3-4 times every.single.night. getting her back to bed since the hard landing always wakes her up.

She is finally content to sleep in her bed but now I’m not getting enough sleep. I’ll figure out a way to solve this unanticipated problem (I’m thinking it may involve a carpeted indoor tent), but I had to take a moment to examine the irony of how trying to solve what we perceive to be a small problem- like unnecessarily sleeping on the floor- creates a bigger problem. My daughter is not an in-the-box child OR in-the-bed kind of sleeper; the more I can embrace that, the better. However I look at it, it’s a great reminder that, even thought I’m MOM, I don’t know everything...and sometimes she knows best- like the fact that her sleeping habits are just not suited for a bed. Happy camping, my love!

The Talk

If you have a second, third or fourth grader, then you know what “talk” I’m referring to. Yes, that one. The one about the birds and the bees... It’s long overdue- not for my nine year old (he’s still pretty oblivious), but for my seven year old. He’s always been very precocious, so it wasn’t a huge surprise when his teacher told me that he was giving his second grade classmates drawing lessons on adult anatomy. It doesn’t help that he also has a problem with using good judgement about what’s appropriate and what’s not (and he’s also a really good artist- these are not his sketches...his had more detail, if you know what I mean).

Photo sketch by MerryPaws

But that’s not why it’s finally time. It was inevitable that despite bookmarking his parent-approved websites, he’d figured out how to google things on the computer. And by “things” I mean “naked girls”. Ugh. Cringe. Sigh. Sit down.

I think every parent dreads this day. I have even had a good “teaching” book tucked away for the right moment, but I was really hoping it wouldn’t come anytime soon. He’s seven! What happened to my little puppy who loved to cuddle and be silly? Now he sports an attitude and has the humor (and taste) of a stand up comedian. In fact, my husband is convinced that he may just become a comedian someday and all of THESE moments will be fodder for his comedy routines. Oh yes, I’m expecting it ALL to come back from this one some day.

In the meantime, however, I have to have “the talk”. And knowing his ability to remember (too) much, his curiosity and drawing skills, this should be interesting. I don’t think it’s going to help with deterring the art lessons with friends on anatomy, but I guess I’d rather it be my kid who’s informed and telling others rather than him hearing misinformation from others and thinking they’re right. As far as “talks” go, this is just the beginning...

Where is a parenting manual when I need one?

Finding the Christmas Spirit

I knew I was taking a risk by responding, but it’s usually the case that doing something is harder than doing nothing, even when it’s the right thing. And my kids were watching.

We were knee deep in Christmas lights and decorations...trying to prep the outside decorations while simultaneously rotating the toys inside the house to the garage to make room for the tree. As you might suspect, this is NOT an easy task with two three year olds clinging and crying about the temporary departure of every toy, despite our best efforts to “capture the moment” with Christmas music blaring the background. (By the way, the trick is to distract them with a “new” toy to rotate in- they will play happily for at least 20 minutes- but have those ready to go before removing the “old” ones). The older boys and the neighbors were playing out front when my second oldest (and animal lover) yelled to me that a stray dog had just wandered into our yard. I’ll be honest, my first thoughts were...I’m sure the dog can find its way home. If I check for a collar and there isn’t one, then I’ve taken on the responsibility of finding its owner. Maybe I can just assure my son that the dog will be fine and we can pretend this never happened.

After all, we lost our beloved dog earlier this year and it was quite traumatic for the family, but especially this child. And he’s been begging for another dog ever since. I knew that was HIS first thought.

Photo: bk images

Sure enough, the dog had a collar...but no tag. Now I couldn’t let her wander off because I knew she belonged to someone who loved her enough to give her a collar. And she was a very sweet black lab mix. So, leaving my patient and understanding husband to man the twins and mess of toys, five kids (including the neighbors, minus the dog-lover) and Christmas decorations, my son and I set off, going house to house in search of the dog’s owner. We made it clear to the end of our street and back, and no one recognized her. And while most people were apologetic, none offered to help find her owner.  I knew I couldn’t keep her even for a few days to hang signs with 4 small kids at our house, despite my son’s pleading. And she had some visible tumors, so calling the Humane Society would not be ideal. Even trying to get her to a vet’s office to see if she had a microchip (if I could find one open on a Sunday) would be problematic with the kids.

Finally, I approached the last house within proximity and held out hope that this would be her home. I was relieved when the kid the lives there opened the door, but then he said she wasn’t his black lab and my heart sank. Upon taking a closer look, he said he did know who she belonged to and offered to take her home. He has no idea how grateful I was to hear those words!

Interestingly enough, this house was only two doors down from us, yet it was the last house I tried. In part because we had issues with this (and another neighbor) kid a few years back who were several years older than our boys and who had been cussing and being mischievous in front of our kids (4 and 5 at the time). My husband had to “talk to” the neighbor boys about being appropriate in front of younger kids. And there just didn’t seem to be a lot of parental supervision, so we encouraged out kids to steer clear of him. Yet, this very kid (a few years later) is offering to help me tremendously without giving it a second thought. He was kind and courteous and a good neighbor.

So, this experience has reminded me this Christmas to love my neighbor (and, as my husband put it, “not judge them by their skinny jeans” and skate boards), to remove myself from the chaos and stress that is “the season” and focus on helping others and doing the right thing. So many people (and a dog) in the this situation were helped, and at the end of the day, isn’t that what’s it all about?

And, no our decorations aren't hung, but Christmas has begun at our house.

Some Call it Bribery...I Call it REWARD

Or incentive. Or positive reinforcement. Regardless of the label, it’s usually a win-win. For the record, I define bribery as using something of value to coax someone into doing something they SHOULDN’T do. With toddlers and kids, it’s all about teaching them that when they make good decisions (which is usually what you want them to do), good things happen.

My son is one who will do just about anything for toys, and by extension, money. He understands he has to work for it, but he’s not going to work harder than he has to. And he’s honed such outstanding negotiating skills that he knows exactly how to get what he wants. But, is that such a bad thing if I also get what I want? Besides, I’m convinced this kid is going to make millions some day- and then he’ll thank me for it.

After overruling his request to play his guitar on the busy street corner to earn money (he’s seven...and he doesn’t know how to play guitar), he is now my big helper around the house. He regularly vacuums, dusts, takes out trash- all of these things without being asked- and actually REQUESTS to do the dishes (...with hearts and stars).

All of these chores pay about $.25 around here, and by the end of the week he usually has $3-5 earned over and above the $3 allowance he gets for being self-sufficient (getting ready for school, picking up his things, brushing teeth, etc). And he knows how to shop on line- which is part of HIS motivation. He finds something he wants to buy, figures out the cost plus tax and shipping (thereby building his math skills) and goes to work around the house. Thankfully he doesn’t have a credit card. Yet. Something tells me that’s not too far off into the future.

In the mean time, however, I will continue to REWARD his hard work and enjoy not having to do some of the household chores myself. I used to worry that we were attaching too much extrinsic value to his work, but the fact is, he does feel the intrinsic value of giving himself a goal and working towards it. So we let him continue to build up his credit and his self esteem. I do wish he was saving more, but then he wouldn’t be nearly as motivated to earn the money. I guess that’s another lesson for another time (usually when he finds something he wants after he’s already spent his money). No, I don’t consider this bribery...this is life!

Parenting the Child that is ME

It’s taken me years to begin to understand how it’s even possible for two people, namely a parent and child, to be so alike in so many ways and there be so much conflict because of it. It defies logic, really.

My oldest was born an old soul. He didn’t even look like a baby when he was an infant, he looked like an old man. He has always been serious, pensive, quiet, an enforcer of rules (notice I don’t say “follower” of rules...), cautious, intense and wise. He’s a very sweet kid, (usually) very good with his younger siblings and is unstoppable (literally) when he puts his mind to something. He is a child any mom would be proud to call hers. But those are his good qualities.

He’s also very stubborn, strong-willed, literal, argumentative, quick tempered and a bit mischieveious. He’s my button pusher. Therein lies the answer to my question. We are a lot alike in many good ways, but MORE alike in the less desirable ways. And whether we mean to or not, and we react to situations in the EXACT. SAME. WAY.

And, just like we as parents swear that we won’t be like our parents, we try in earnest to keep our kids from embodying the things we don’t like about ourselves. Given my son’s propensity to act and talk in much the same (negative) ways, it starts to make sense that my conflicted frustration grows as emotions escalate. And there you have it, it is because we are alike in the wrong ways that our similarities become our differences. Now I have to figure out how to be less like myself, more like the me I want to be and embrace the child that is.

Now, what do I do about the second and third children who have the same problem? I guess the good news is that neither of them is like me.

Life in Two Minute Increments

Having twins has its perks. But it also has its drawbacks. Apparently today is I-want-what-you-have day, as it has been filled with a series of tug-of-wars over certain toys. All. Day. Long. My solution? The timer, set for two minutes and mandated sharing. Why two minutes? Because that’s about the maximum amount of time I can tolerate the crying and screaming that ensues when the desire to play with a toy overwhelms their senses. That, and it’s just enough time for a three year old’s attention span to wear off.

And when the timer doesn’t work, time out does. Which also lasts about two minutes. And since most of our day seems to be comprised of timers and time outs, it’s being lived in increments of two minutes at a time. And it keeps me from losing it...I can keep my cool through two minutes much easier than I can get through two hours. Today is one of those days where trying to teach my kids patience and perspective reminds me to do the same.

The Quiet One

I’m always amazed to see a sibling sitting perfectly content and seemingly unaware of their brother or sister right next to them who is SCREAMING at the top of their lungs. Here is one thing I’ve learned about parenting: it’s usually the Quiet One’s fault. The Crying One is usually quick to point that out, but the Quiet One also knows I didn’t see it. So what does the Quiet One do? Deny it, of course!

So now that it’s become a game of Quiet-said-versus-Crying-said, the original offense becomes less and less relevant until there is a full-scale meltdown about whom I believe. Suddenly, the Quiet One has masterfully manipulated the situation into MY fault for not trusting the Quiet One’s version of the truth. Worried I am going to break Quiet One’s ego, fill Quiet One with self-loathing and basically screw Quiet One up for life, I hesitate...for a moment. I may not have seen it, but this is a perfect example of how actions speak louder than words. And Quiet One’s actions (or lack thereof) are screaming GUILTY!

So Quiet One has now turned unsuspecting mother into Yelling One at Quiet One, while trying to comfort Crying One. And, as I ponder why Quiet One is lying to me, I reminisce about the myriad of lies I told as a child- not because I was a bad kid, but simply because I didn’t want to get in trouble. So I’m compelled to teach Quiet One yet another lesson on the importance of being honest with consequences for lying...right after Yelling One emerges with her sanity after deep breathing exercises in the garage.