Self-feeding and going to school

Posted on September 8, 2011 by admin

That’s it — I’m not really needed around here anymore. Liam can feed himself Cheerios. He can’t open the box, or get them from the store, yet, but really, that’s just a matter of time. He is delighted with his new ability, and I really don’t think there’s any turning back for him. From here, it’s on to catching, skinning and preparing his own meals. He’ll also be walking any day, and is quickly figuring out how to work Benjamin’s tricycle at the same time. He’ll probably be driving and looking for his own place by the end of the month.

On the other hand, Benjamin is having a hard time with his latest chapter of growing up. He tells me he loves school, and that he wants to keep going, but he wants me to be there. Tonight he told me that if we go to school tomorrow, and Liam & I leave, then he’ll “be all alone there”. And then he cried. My poor, sweet, little guy.

Liam is quickly progressing down the path which takes him to independence (as he should) while Benjamin resists his progress down the same path (also appropriate). Liam is too little to be worried about what things he might be giving up in order to gain some independence, and he doesn’t yet worry about losing the special things that come with being a baby. For Liam, progress is all positive. Benjamin revels in the “big kid” stuff he can do, like riding his bike, running really fast, eating ice cream on his own, reading his numbers and some letters or getting to sit on a “real seat” on the train. But, he’s also holding tight to things that make him feel like a baby: wearing diapers, drinking from bottles, staying home all day with me and Liam. He’s concerned, I think, that by making progress, some things are lost, and right now he’s unwilling to let go of those things. He wants to make sure he’s still my baby — that he’s still special and treasured and will be protected and kept safe.

I know, of course, that the love I have for my kids has nothing to do with their ages or maturity. Benjamin will learn that he doesn’t have to give up the comfort and security of “mom” and “family” by extending himself into the world. He will know that we will love him, and that he is special to us, regardless of how grown up he is. (Liam will learn that, too, but not for a while. It will never be the issue for him that it is for Benjamin, because he will have seen it happen with Benjamin and will understand, without having to experience it, that it will be true for him, too.)

Both of my boys are growing up. Liam is always trying to keep up with his big brother, but right now, Benjamin’s trying to go back to what Liam has. I love them both a phenomenal amount, and I want to do everything I can to give them the most happiness possible as they take this journey. Right now, Liam wants Cheerios. I think Benjamin wants hugs and cuddles. Luckily, I can provide both.

018-MOTION

Please come console your brokenhearted child

Posted on September 7, 2011 by admin

So, today, it happened. Just over an hour after I had left him, I got a phone call from one of the teachers, saying, “Ben is very upset and is crying a lot. We think you should come and get him sooner than we had planned.” (They all call him “Ben” all the time — it doesn’t bother me, but I’m surprised at the 100% assumption of using the nickname.) As I was only 15 minutes away, having coffee, I was happy to oblige. When I got there, he was hysterical — “Mommy! Mommy! I want my Mommy!” I could hear him in the hall. I walked in, Liam in my arms, and sat down on the floor in front of him and gathered him up in a huge hug, Liam and all. His face was wet, red and swollen from crying. My poor guy.

I asked him, and the teachers, what it was that had upset him so much, and they all said it wasn’t anything in particular. The teachers surmise that after watching a few kids have tearful goodbyes with their own parents, he decided he ought to find out where I was. He was happy immediately upon my arrival. A few minutes later, I asked him how his day had gone so far, and he smiled and said, “It was great!” I told him we were going to go home, and he wanted to stay. The teachers recommended that we go ahead and leave early today, and then come in later tomorrow (hopefully missing most of the tearful goodbyes between other kids and their parents) and keep it short. We’re also making sure to plan for his time tomorrow to coincide with outside playtime, which, so far, is his favorite thing.

My poor little guy. It breaks my heart that he wanted me and I wasn’t there. For my entire walk there, I kept thinking, “He needs me and I’m not there”, and I kept reminding myself, “No, he wants me, he doesn’t need me –he’s actually safe and fine.” I’m encouraged by the fact that he still characterized his day as “great” and that he wanted to stay. I asked him, later on this afternoon, whether he wanted to go to school tomorrow. He said yes. I told him that Liam & I would take him in the morning, and drop him off, and then come back a little while later. He didn’t like that — he wants us to stay.

I’m not entirely sure if this is the right thing for him. I see the way he desperately wants to play with the other kids, and I am happy to hear him tell me about the fun he has. But, he misses me. I know that, eventually, he’ll have to be without me, even if he misses me, but I wonder if he isn’t still a little too young for it to be forced on him. I do like the fact that he likes school, he just wants me to be there. For tomorrow, we go back to school. From there, we’ll see.

On his own

Posted on September 6, 2011 by admin

Today was the second day of school for Benjamin. Liam and I went with him and got him settled in, just like yesterday. But once he was set and playing happily (about 20 minutes after we got there) the teachers suggested that we say goodbye and leave him to play without us. I was nervous — I was sure he was going to fall apart when I said I was leaving. Nope. I went to tell him and I had to drag a hug and a kiss out of him before he turned around and headed for the “grocery store”. Sigh.

So, off we went. I met Dan at his office and joined him for coffee. Liam dozed off, Dan went back to work, and I sat. I was so certain I’d get the call on my phone — “Please come console your brokenhearted child”. Nope.

When I went to pick him up, a couple of hours (!) later, he was a happy camper — playing outside in the big yard with the other kids. Turns out, Benjamin cried twice today. The fiirst time was while I was away — when he jumped out and yelled “BOO!” at another kid and she yelled, “NO!!!!” right back at him (apparently, he fell apart and it took several minutes for him to calm down). The second time was when I showed up and told him we’d be leaving soon. He didn’t stop crying until I assured him that we’ll come back to school tomorrow and he’ll be able to stay and play.

While I was gone, he ate a snack, did an art project, played, cried, played some more. I’ve never been so glad to see him sad as when I told him it was time to come home. It would have been much worse if he’d been relieved — then I would really be questioning the decision for him to be at school. As it is, he’s having a good time — and as long as he is, I want him to be there. I do think he’s having experiences he wouldn’t get otherwise. (Even just learning that not everyone enjoys having “Boo!” shouted in their face is a good life lesson, and an easier one to learn now than later.)

I miss him when we’re not together. I may get to a point of enjoying the time — the ability to get things done, or to relax, or to spend one-on-one with Liam. But for now, I just miss him. The fact that he enjoys it makes it easier, but not a lot.

First day of school

Posted on September 5, 2011 by admin

Last night, after the kids were in bed, I completely fell apart. Heartbroken, sobbing. Wishing to be able to replay sections of the past 3 years of my life and make different choices — play more, cuddle more, read more, clean less, never be frustrated, irritable or too worn out to play. I don’t want to give up any time with Benjamin every day — not even 4 hours. I want to be with him. I want to be able to play with him, kiss his boo boos, read stories, do art projects, go out and see things. My sadness is almost completely selfish.

And, so far, completely unfounded. Benjamin’s first day of preschool/kindergarten was fun, short and without trauma. We even managed to arrive on time! He played (mostly by himself, but a little with the other kids), talked to the teachers and got nearly every toy in the place out to play with. His attention span was about 4 seconds long — every time he started doing something, he got distracted by something else. He literally gasped with joy over the puzzles with pictures of Lightning McQueen, as well as the grocery store section of the classroom, complete with pretend food and a shopping cart. He built train tracks, played with play dough (first time!) and started several art projects. I stayed with him, but he only checked in with me a few times. At one point, I left for a few minutes to feed Liam, and he was so busy playing that he didn’t care to hear where I was going and didn’t seem to notice my absence.

On the teacher’s advice, we kept things short — we only stayed for a few hours, with the intention of leaving him interested enough to look forward to coming back tomorrow. It seems to have worked. He wants to go back tomorrow, especially because he didn’t get a chance to play outside in the big playground.

The original plan was for us to repeat this pattern, of Liam and I going with Benjamin to school, every day for the rest of this week. The only downside to today going so well is that his teachers think he’s ready to move on to the next step (and I agree). Tomorrow, Liam and I will go with him and get him settled in the morning, and then we’ll go out for an hour and come back to join him for a while, before heading home.

Today, the hardest thing about being there was wrestling Liam (many of the toys and games had small parts that Liam wanted to, but shouldn’t, play with, so I had to keep him under close watch the whole time — not the idea of fun for an 11 month old). Tomorrow, I actually have to leave B at school for a little while. It’s going to be harder for me than for him, I expect.

Tomorrow, everything changes

Posted on September 4, 2011 by admin

For over three years, I’ve been a “stay at home” mom. Tomorrow, for the first time, one of my children will be in daycare. Sure, it’s more appropriately preschool (kindergarten, here) than daycare, and it’s only 4 hours a day, but it doesn’t change the reality of it. Benjamin starts school tomorrow. It’s not like I’ve been with them both 24/7 since their births: I did work a few hours a week at home, I go out and do things from time to time, I even came to Austria for 4 days when Benjamin was only 18 months old, and, of course, I was in the hospital when Liam was born (and for days after, since he was in the NICU) — and thus, away from Benjamin.

This feels so different. For 50% of his waking hours, five days a week, he will be in someone else’s care. That “someone else” isn’t my mom, or Dan, or a trusted friend. It isn’t for an hour, or for a special occasion. These people are strangers to us (although I know they won’t be for long) and this will be our every day routine. My baby is leaving the nest for the first time — he goes out in to the world to interact with its other inhabitants without my constant supervision. He will experience things I’ve protected him from and the flaws in my parenting will be exposed. The other kids may not be nice to him all the time, he may experience the pain of being left out, not liked or teased. Whatever manners and good behavior he has managed to pick up will show, as will the places I’ve not quite armed him with enough.

I know that this is just preschool, and that he isn’t expected to be perfectly polite or well behaved all the time. I also know that the hurts he receives from his classmates will not only be impermanent, but also come with important life lessons better to be learned at the age of 3 than at a later time. Mostly, it’s going to be a place for him to play and interact with kids his own age (which he’s been dying to do) and to learn German — I think that by the end of September, if not sooner, he’ll be the best German speaker in the house.

But still, he’s my baby, and I don’t think I’m ready to let go, even in this little way. But, I will, because it’s what is right for him. The good parts of this, as well as the challenges, are important for his journey in life. As with pretty much everything having to do with raising children, this just isn’t about me. (If he hates it, though, I’m bringing him straight home. Just saying.)

New schedule

Posted on September 1, 2011 by admin

With Benjamin starting preschool next week, we need to reorganize our morning schedule. In order to get him there on time, we will have to leave the house half an hour before Dan’s supposed to be leaving now (and more often than not, we don’t make our current schedule, either). So, we need to start getting up at 5:30 in the morning. Ouch.

We decided to “practice” our morning schedule this week so that if we are totally off on how long everything will take, it won’t result in us being an hour late to school on Monday morning. Yesterday was our first practice day. It was a complete failure. We tried agian today. Fail again. For our practice days, we had decided that Dan & I would go through the motions of our usual routine, but that we wouldn’t actually get the kids up early if they weren’t up anyway (because there’s no reason to torture them, which would in turn torture us).

The result is, of course, that the kids didn’t get the memo about getting up early, and since we’ve decided not to wake them, it’s just about impossible to “practice” our morning routine with just Dan & I. Actually, just me: both yesterday and today, Dan has ended up dozing off while holding a sleeping Liam who doesn’t want to go back to bed, but isn’t really ready to get up, either. The whole “practicing” thing was a nice idea, but it isn’t working. We still have the weekend. I don’t know what’s the best course of action: to force the entire family to get up earlier than necessary in order to prove a concept, or let it go and risk being profoundly late to Benjamin’s first day of school on Monday.

I think we’re going to skip the practice and keep our fingers crossed for Monday.

Kindergarten and Potassium iodide

Posted on May 23, 2011 by admin

We went to see a potential kindergartern for Benjamin today, with mixed emotions. I’m very excited for him — I know he will enjoy making friends, playing games, making arts and crafts and everything else he’ll get to experience by going to school. But I’ve never been away from him like this. We spend our days together. With very few exceptions, I have been there to guide his explorations, to kiss all his boo boos and to supervise and witness all of his adventures. It’s going to be very hard for me to have him go to school, even for just 4 hours a day.

That said, we love the kindergarten. It’s close to Dan’s work, so they’ll ride the train together every day. The teachers are so nice, and they all speak at least a little English (although not as much, or as well, as I’d like — I fear there is potential for Benjamin, who is an amazing communicator, to be frustrated . . . but they were trying so hard). The place is lovely and clean, with lots of toys and a beautiful playground outside. The kids all seemed happy, relaxed and confident. We were there during snack time, and it was great to see the kids sitting around the little tables, in their little chairs, helping themselves to fresh fruit. Benjamin really liked it — he cried when it was time for us to leave (although I think the toys were a big part of that). If it really is time for him to start school (and I think it is — or will be, in September) then I think it’s a really nice place for him to be.

As part of our interview/orientation today, we had a lot of forms to fill out, papers to sign and information (principally in German) to take home and read (i.e., translate). It was pretty standard: immunization records, personal information, who’s allowed to pick him up, emergency contacts . . . and a permission form for the administration of Potassium iodide tablets in the event of nuclear emergency. Yep.

Apparently, this is a standard thing here. According to the kindergarten administrator, most people here keep the tablets on hand at home, but they’re happy to provide them for Benjamin in the event of a nuclear event while he’s at school. Which, I guess, is comforting. Kind of.

There aren’t any functioning nuclear reactors in Austria. But in a country that is roughly the size of South Carolina, this, alone, is not sufficiently informative. There are nuclear power plants surrounding Austria on every side, and many of the reactors are close to the border. But, although the closest one to where I’m living right now is no closer than the closest one to where I was living at home, the thought of stocking up on Potassium iodide tablets had never crossed my mind. (It’s certainly on my mind now.)

Shocking as it was to read (and sign) a form permitting Benjamin’s teachers to do their best to protect him in the event of nuclear devastation, I think I’m more concerned with the fact that the kindergarten teachers’ English isn’t as good as I’d like. I think that’s the better place to spend my worry. And, I’m glad they’re planning ahead and looking out for him — but I’m a little freaked out.

A Mommy Abroad

Our big adventure, as a family of three.

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