Cinnamon and Santa

I took my kids shopping, and as soon as we entered the aroma of cinnamon filled the air. I paused, inhaled and was immediately content. Any stress or frustration was forgotten. Cinnamon pinecones are the first signal of the holiday season. They bring to mind hot cocoa, fires, scarves, Douglass Firs, and friends and family near and far. Every year I buy them, every year my children point them out, smell them, and smile knowing these are some of Mommy’s favorite things. It will stay with them years from now, when they are grown up with children of their own, they will walk into a room and the smell of cinnamon will give them pause. They will stop in their tracks, smile fondly at this memory of their mother, the holidays of their youth, and cinnamon. 

I know this all too well because growing up every year my mother unwrapped the Christmas decorations, when she got to the figurine of Santa kneeling over baby Jesus in the Manger she would say it was her favorite; it was the representation of Christmas. The joy of presents and innocence of youth all bowing before the true reason for the season - the birth of baby Jesus. My mother died when I was a teenager, but when I walk into a room with a similar figurine I stop, my heart skips a beat, and I feel wrapped in her arms once again, even though I have spent half of my life without her.

This is one of the things I love about the holidays, they bring back our childhood, they evoke memories of loved ones, and help us connect with and form lasting bonds with our children. These are bonds that will last their whole life, so even when we aren’t there we are. 

Turkeys and Tattoos

My son was asked to share what he did over Thanksgiving and he said, "We drove 6 hours, I smashed my head against a wall, and my parents got tattoos." Gotta say that sounds like an interesting holiday, especially from a teacher's perspective with no other information.

We drove to Kentucky in a van with shaky brakes, a sliding door that broke yet again and refuses to open, which means all the kids have to pile in and out of one side of the van, and an AV output that is busted. Still, we arrived in one piece and got to enjoy turkey and all the sides. My son, the one who shared his Thanksgiving experience, was acting all a fool and after spinning around he fell into the corner of the wall. A nice huge goose egg appeared. Here just look that this. Crazy, right?

The day after Thanksgiving Pete and I did get matching tattoos because I figure 35 is a good age for a mid-life crisis and is just the right age for I don't give damn. Mostly, we got them because we don't wear wedding rings because he lost his and I am allergic to the nickel in both my engagement and wedding band. After about 5 years of not wearing anything we both wanted to have something to show the world we were husband and wife, I mean besides the 5 kids that are always hanging on us.

I guess my son summed up Thanksgiving pretty well. I wonder what Christmas will be like?

Love at 7 Eleven

Hi everyone. I haven't been great about blogging on this site, and I will try so hard to do a better job!!, but I did have another essay posted at HerViewFromHome.com and here is the link!

Love at 7 Eleven

I am so excited to see where and hear about where you have rediscovered love- sometimes it happens in the most unexpected places and moments!

Mom Jeans- the struggle is real

I sometimes submit essays to herviewfromhome.com and this week I have one up that is funny and light-hearted. It is a fun quick read that I hope will make you smile or shake your head because you feel sorry for the 'traditional' mom I have become.  Here is the link!

http://herviewfromhome.com/confession-mom-jeans-rock/

( Hmm.. am I wearing mom jeans right now?  Yes, yes I am)

Mothers of Boys Need to be Concerned About These Sexist Comments

Men at times may talk like that, but that doesn’t make it ok. It doesn’t mean I will in any way accept that as an excuse, I will not try to rationalize these type of comments, nor will I accept any rationalization of his comments, and I certainly will not vote or endorse a man who feels this type of talk is acceptable. The mere fact he spoke these words means he finds them to be suitable for conversation.

I am a woman, yes, and I am also a mother. I do have a daughter, and I want her to feel like she is more than just a beautiful face or a nice piece of ass. I want her kindness, creativity, intelligence, and fierce determination to be noticed, credited, and listed first. I don’t want her to feel second-class, voiceless, weak, or intimidated by any man. While I want my daughter to stand tall, I happen to be a mother to sons as well.

It is our job, my and my husband’s, to teach these boys how to be men. But it is my job to help shape and mold their opinion of women. They are the future, they are the ones who will help determine how the gender conversation is played out, if they see women only as breakable porcelain dolls, the future of women’s roles is society will be marginalized. I have to teach them women are more than objects to be used how you want, they are not just large breasts, beautiful legs, and a pretty face. They are humans, individuals, and Godly made. Women are more than their sexuality, and my sons need to see their strength, confidence, intelligence, and humor. I need to instill in them a respect for a woman’s opinions. I need to expose them to women in all fields and in all levels of leadership.They need to know at a basic human level if you disagree with someone the go to response should not be derogatory, this goes for males and females, there should be no distinction. It should not be said or felt that because a woman proves to be correct or in opposition to you that she is a screechy bitch. She is a person with a different view, that is it, proceed from there.

I fear a man running for our highest office who thinks of women as little more than table dressing or arm candy, not only for my daughter but for my sons as well. I fear they will be begin to emulate the behavior they see played out on a national stage. How much harder it will be to teach them to be decent humans. It is already hard, there are constant ads, songs, and shows exposing them to the idea that women are there to be objectified, and not only that, but women want to be objectified. If they do not hear from a role model, like a mother, that this is not true, but they do hear from political figures, athletes, or actors on a daily repeat saying  this is just how it is and women are fine with it, they are used to it, then our society remains stagnant. To move forward in these times I need to force my sons to question the norm, I need to speak up and say this is not ok, I need to make sure I do not sit quiet and idly by as they make rude jokes or rate girls in their class. I need to share my own experiences of fear and inappropriateness, and I need them to be willing to stand up not just for mom or sister, but any female. I need them to become good dads so they can teach their own children. Females can change the world, and I for one, plan on starting by raising my sons to treat females as human beings.

When Back to School Hurts

I want to help you, make it easier, lift you up, heal the hurt, calm the anxieties, and see the positive. I know I can’t, and I am helpless. That feeling causes me great unease, I try to fix it or view it through my lens, but this isn’t about me, I can’t make it mine. Even as I write these words I imagine the impact they would have on you if you read them. Would you feel like you were causing more stress to our family, would you feel some of the burden, would it be one more thing that chips away at your self-worth, confidence, and esteem? 

I ask to take first day of school pictures, I make you smile, and later look at the picture. You are so handsome, you are growing so big, fourth grade now-wow, but I made you smile and it feels wrong, off-kilter. You were overwhelmed just by the mere thought of going, there was dread in your heart, and probably a battle of emotions going on inside that I don’t know. I tried to give you a pep talk, tried to help you make a list of positives, and you just shut down. I just got frustrated because I was never the ‘bad’ kid, I was never the kid with ‘too much energy’, I was never the kid who on one level knew you weren’t supposed to walk around, talk, say crazy things randomly, but sometimes just couldn’t help it. Instead, I fear my talk left you feeling more isolated, more alone, and like I could never understand your world. The thing is I try, and sometimes I think I understand better, but I am not sure I will ever understand completely. It breaks my heart when you hear back to school the things that immediately go through your head are: I am going to be the worst kid in my class again, I am going to get in trouble everyday, even when I try to behave I get in trouble so I should just stop trying, what’s the point, no one notices when I am even a little bit better, some kids don’t want anything to do with me because I am too crazy, I talk too much, I am too different, they separate me from my friends because we are too loud when we are together, and they want me to have friends, so why do they put my friends in another class?

I know all too well this is true. I know soon I will start getting phone calls, emails, meetings will start, plans will be put into place, tricks, tactics, rewards, and the whole gamut will be deployed to help you make it through the year. In the end you will hate school a little more, you will feel a little more like people are just putting up with you, trying to handle you until they don’t have to, and even when they see the positive, the great, the wonderful kindness you possess, and they do tell you- you won’t hear it. You will be too used to hearing all the negative that it won’t balance out. It isn’t just at school because I am guilty of it here. I hope you see through it, I hope you can see past it, I hope in time you can learn to value the perks of your over-active brain. You are so brilliant, your reading level and mastery of language is above and beyond, you are so imaginative, you are not afraid to ask questions, you do not back down, you are excellent with your younger siblings, you are generous, you are funny, you are quick-witted, and you are brave because everyday you walk into school knowing that it will be hard, it will be like putting a square in a circle, and you do it, and that my dear is called courage.

Since it is the beginning of a new school year I want to share my failings because I am not perfect, I mess up, I get frustrated, overwhelmed, lost, confused, stressed, angry, and feel incapable of being your mother, but none of this is because you are a ‘bad’ kid. You are not a’bad’ kid. You are the most amazing kid. I won’t lie, it is hard, it can be tough, but nothing in life is always easy, sometimes you have to fight for the best things in life, and I promise to be there with you, I promise to be on your side.

Memorable Moments

I feel like a big part of my life is helping other people not feel like total failures as a parent. I mean with 5 kids I am bound to screw up occasionally and well, so are my kids, here is a long list of ways I am making you feel like an awesome parent.

Let's start with last week. We had a baseball game and a soccer game to attend and being a one- car family that means a lot of planning and toting everyone along. We lucked out that the games were being played at the same park, but there is a bit of distance between them, which comes into play here real soon. Luke's game was first so all 7 of were in attendance, and Jack was talking about this and that when he suddenly remembered he was banned from electronics for 1 month, it had already been 2 weeks, so the fact that it just randomly dawned on him is not even something I can understand. In his anger he stormed off without a word. We watched him walk past the baseball field, past the playground, and near the pond. We let him go, if he wanted to be angry and let off some steam so be it. Then about 15 minutes later it was time for part of the crew to head on over to Jack's soccer game. Pete went down by the playground and pond to get Jack, but he wasn't there. Pete asked a guy who was fishing with his kids if he had seen a little boy, and the response was no. There is a big hill and some little trail type areas nearby so Thomas and I went and searched that area, screaming his name, but nothing. Around this time I had to grab Luke from his game, and Pete was going to drive around to the other side of the park to see if Jack just decided to walk to his soccer game without telling us. As Luke and I made our way we met Pete who had decided to walk to the soccer fields since, if something had happened to Jack he would be retracing Jack's path, turns out Jack was at his soccer game. Later when we told him we needed to discuss what happened he said, " What happened? What did I do?"

Jack stories are the best so here is another. We went to Henderson last week, and the first night there Jack was being a bit much. He has this tendency, so one way to help him and everyone around him, is to send him someplace alone to read. He didn't like that he was being pulled away, but I put him in a bedroom gave him a book and told him he needed to take a break for a little while. About 10 or 20 minutes later my sister went in to say goodbye to him and discovered the window open and the screen on the bed. My son had escaped. Mary and Daniel looked outside to discover that he didn't go far, just next to our van, we brought him inside and once he was walking away from me I noticed that his back had blood all over it. I called for him and it turns out that in his escape he managed to fall on this piece of plastic, breaking the plastic, and scratching up his back pretty badly. I will say I did not scream. I even repeatedly kept telling him that I wasn't screaming, probably in an effort to not scream. I guess I can say hopefully he learned climbing out windows is not ok, and if you do you might get hurt. Better to learn this lesson at 9 versus 16- I hope.

Once back home Meg had this dress up outfit that needed some sequins or something glued back on. I could only find super glue and she wanted it done right away and without thinking I started to do it while she was wearing the dress. Nope. Bad, horrible idea. She began screaming. I immediately yanked that dress away from her chest but it was done, it had burned her. Now she has a small burn on her chest. Oh she sobbed and sobbed for an hour. She fell asleep in my arms sobbing and kept waking up crying. It was the most horrible thing. It looks so much better now, and doesn't bother her at all, but I feel immense guilt every time I see it.

Meg decided she needed a haircut. She took the scissors and just started cutting. Nice. We haven't fixed it yet, so she has been wearing a ponytail. It isn't horrible and it can be fixed without looking ridiculous, so that is good news.

In Henderson we went to the Handy Fest and there were bounce houses and slides that I let the kids go on. Thomas slid down a slide with his arm under him and he got a little burn. I didn't think much of it because it looked like a rug burn and not a big deal. I gave him a band-aid, mostly just to appease him, and sent him on his way. This weekend I noticed that he had this huge scab that covered most of his elbow. What?! We went to the zoo and the very last thing we did was ride the carousel. When they got off I noticed a large-ish amount of blood coming from Thomas' elbow. I had tissues so we put those on it, and then a nice mom who was standing nearby gave us a band-aid. So we fixed it pretty quickly. It turns out that Thomas' arm snagged on this phone holster Pete decided to wear today (since it was Father's Day Pete decided to dress like a dorky dad-haha ), and it ripped that scab right off. Tonight we changed the bandage and it looks a lot worse than it did before. It is gross. Thomas did get a small ice cream out of it though.

Then there is Robert who is just a handful all of the time. He took off his diaper to poop on the floor, he found my make-up and put it everywhere, he takes all the pots and pans out of the drawers at least 10 times a day, he eats off the dirty spoons in the dishwasher, he throws all his food on the floor, he draws on the wall, he chases the cat, he moves the step stool to the sink in order to grab toothbrushes and put them in the toilet, and really just about anything he shouldn't do he does. He is the 5th kid he should be easy-just saying.

That's been my summer so far-- hope yours is memorable too.

because this is what happens when you try to get them all to be in one picture

Did He?

My darling Robert is a bit of a handful. He has the potential to rank up there with Jack, and well, that is saying something. He can climb on top of and in/out of most everything. He is naked all the time, pants are no match for this nudist. He refuses to wear shoes. If anyone closes a door or goes outside he will scream and cry and bang on the door until you open it or let him outside. If he is playing with toys and another kid comes over and seems interested, he will grab whatever he is playing with and just start screaming in the other kid's face. So far this has worked for him, and other kids don't mess with his stuff. He is on the go constantly, turn around and he is gone, when you say no he just ignores you, and boy he makes me tired.

This leads to sleep- you would think that due to all of this expenditure of energy he would sleep wonderfully, but this would be wrong. He sleeps in a pack-and-play in my room. He nurses to fall asleep and in the middle of the night he wakes up to nurse himself back to sleep. He is usually in my bed when 5:30am comes around, at which time he thinks the day has officially begun. He lets me know by climbing on my face and putting his knee in my throat. He doesn't know how calm himself down or fall to sleep on his own, and finally I/We/Pete decided it had to stop!! This was further reinforced when the same day the doctor said Robert really needs to learn how to fall asleep without nursing; I mean he is 15 months old!!  I wasn't going to let him cry it out in our room so we moved Meg down here and put Robert upstairs. We have used some form or other of crying it out with all our children, but I hate hearing the crying. Something biological or evolutionary makes me more sensitive to it than other people in our house. Last night I put him to bed, nothing. I watch an hour or so of tv, nothing. I wake up this morning, slightly before 7, and nothing? So confused. Surely not. It can't have gone from horrible to wonderful in one night. This doesn't happen. I go upstairs to check on him, and he is stirring and waking up, so I get him. Then at breakfast once everyone is up I say, "So did he wake up at all last night? I never heard him." At this point the whole room starts laughing. They all tell me he cried ALL night long!! Pete had to get our big loud fan, turn it on high, and put it  right by the stairs to try and drown out the noise. The boys, who sleep across the hall, said Robert's crying kept waking them up all night long. While little ol' me slept through the night for the first time in like 2 years. In the end Pete thought Robert maybe slept 2 hours total. I have had to leave the house before while sleep training because the crying and not being allowed to comfort has driven me crazy, but to sleep through it?! Never would I ever imagine. The thing is Pete was banking on my hearing loss to help me get through it, and he was right. I hate it when he is right. Never before have we lived in a place where I slept any real distance from the kids. Here I sleep downstairs and they sleep upstairs. Pete has told me before I wasn't hearing things upstairs, like once a night Meg usually wakes up screaming but falls back asleep after 20 minutes, I just didn't believe him or thought he was exaggerating. Nope. Not at all.

So here is to hearing loss and maybe my baby learning to sleep through the night-maybe. Hopefully, he sleeps more tonight, either way, I guess I will be sleeping better.

More than a handful

Sitting here with a messy bun drinking coffee that may or may not, but probably does, have some Baileys mixed in. I am tired. Exhausted. Can’t remember when I have slept through the whole night. I have 5 kids, so I should be used to the no sleep thing, but sleep is so very important to me, I have made it my mission to get my kids to bed early and have them sleep through the night. Sure they still wake up at 6am, but there is a very firm don’t wake up your mother until 7am rule.

 It has been one of those days. I let the 1-year-old him feed himself, stupid teaching self-sufficiency. He ended up covered head to toe in oatmeal. The floor and the table did not escape this debauchery. He seemed to be in rare form. Pulling out all the things under the sink, and if these things happened to be in boxes he pulled out whatever was in these boxes. He went to the game/puzzle cabinet and pulled out all the puzzles and each individual piece was piled high surrounding him. When he had enough of this he found our cat, and began to pull the cat’s tail. I would move him, say no, tell him to be soft, but then he just looked at me, grabbed the cat’s tail, and yanked hard, never breaking eye contact.

I picked my pre-schooler up from school, and seriously the fight we had in the car was the most ridiculous thing I have ever been a part of, I just imagined someone listening in laughing. He was showing me his folder when this stink just overwhelmed my senses. I asked him if he needed to go home and poop. Well, I somehow offended him to his core. He did not need to poop, he would not sit on the potty, he would never poop again, he would also never go to school again, and he hated pooping and school. I just sat in the car arguing with a 4-year-old about how he could just sit on the toilet and try, even if he ended up just tooting into the toilet a whole bunch and no poops came out. What is this life I am living?

When asking the eldest of the bunch how school went he said it went really well, but he did end up on red. He got red for no reason at all, the teacher just gave him red. Yes, sure, I believe that. Plus, it was bring a stuffed animal to school day and his got taken away, but it wasn’t his fault. Just like it probably wasn’t his fault when he hopped the fence to run around the pond with his friends without evening stopping for two seconds to ask permission. I was the lovely mother walking around the pond, holding her 2-year-old, and going to drag his butt back home. The kids saw me and said things like: ‘Oh, Jack is here. I didn’t know Jack was here.’  The school psychologist is one of the advisors for running club, and she was like, ‘Hi Mrs.Weigel,’ as she ran on by. That child of mine has no clue. I didn’t yell, and as a huge yeller, this must have thrown him off. The ever so silent-‘We will talk about this at home,’ was met with very little resistance. I dread to think about the teenage years.

I think that once upon a time I was a normal human. My arguments did not involve poop, homework, goldfish going in a bowl vs. the floor, or why you have to brush your teeth-seriously just brush your damn teeth twice a day every day. I really don’t remember these days, but surely they existed. I need a vacation. Who do I see about a few paid days off?

Winter birthdays are a cause to celebrate

This is the time of the year when almost all of our family celebrates a birthday. Since I don't like winter I suppose God figured I should birth all my children in winter to remind me to celebrate during this cold cold drab time of year. Luckily, I was born in August, my favorite month, so I can sit out in the sun, with a margarita or some such drink, and be thrilled.  Back to these winter birthdays.

Meg starts us off at the end of January with her birthday. Here is the low down on Meg. She likes to do the naked dance. The naked dance is done during diaper change, bath time, and sometimes being naked isn't required just shirt off will do it. She shakes her booty and says Nae Nae Nae. This leads to the next thing about Meg, her favorite song is Whip Nae Nae. She loves this song and we have to listen to it on repeat multiple times. She thinks she is as big as her brothers and tries to do everything they do, she is thrilled when she feels like she has. She is amassing a large army of stuffed animals in her bed, and they need to come with her everywhere, but she cannot carry them all in her arms so she has a small backpack they get stuffed in when we are on the go. She pretty much rules this house. She is loud, stubborn, and throws a huge fit when things aren't going her way. Pete says she gets this from me. I wish I could deny this, but I fear it is true.

Her backpack holds all her guys and she looks like her brothers too

Next on the winter birthday train is Luke. He helps us say goodbye to February. Luke is learning to read. Something recently clicked for him and now when I am reading the Ramona books to him he will point out the words he knows. He is very excited because he really wanted to learn how to read but had been struggling. He likes to draw and color pictures. He draws pictures for his friends and family all the time. He likes sharks and all underwater sea creatures really, but sharks are his favorite. He likes to dress up and look nice. He even asked for real ties for his birthday, not clip-on ties. I am sad to say I didn't get him ties. Instead he got BB-8 shirts because he loved the new Star Wars movie. Luke picked out the morning music on his birthday and it was The Imperial March. In our house Luke is the quietest, the peace-maker, the one who will just walk up and give you a hug. He senses when you are sad and he will sit by you and ask how you are. He cares so much about everyone.

Luke discovered these books and reads them out loud to us- he loves them!!

Jack and Robert are next. They are tied with ringing in March. Jack is the oldest so let's talk about Jack. Jack is a voracious reader. I am amazed by the number of books that child goes through. He reads all day. He asks for books for every holiday and birthday. In his backpack now there are 3 or 4 different books that he is reading. At night he still likes for me to read to him. He is a good big brother and looks out for and plays with the babies all the time. He and Thomas are currently in a constant and never ending fight, or so it seems, but when he heard how well Thomas did at the Run- A -Thon Jack stopped right then and gave Thomas a big hug and said he was proud of him. This is pretty much Jack in a nutshell. He will drive you crazy all day but then he shows you that he has this great big heart and love of family. Sometimes, and not often enough, when I feel like I am failing Jack I ask him to sit with me and pray the rosary, and he rolls his eyes, sighs, and at first says the prayers super fast or incorrectly, but by the end of it we have it down and when we have finished he always gives me a hug and says thanks mom I needed that. His favorite shows at the moment are Flash and Arrow. He likes that they are older shows, there is fighting, the good guy wins, and that he can hang out with daddy while watching them.

Poor guy broke a bone in his foot. No more recess or basketball for awhile. 

Robert has just recently started to act like more than just a baby. I guess being the youngest I haven't been all that eager to let go of his baby stage, and he has acquiesced. He still nurses, and I am not so sure when he will stop because he uses it to fall asleep for naps and bedtime. He will nurse longer than his siblings I know that. They were all weaned around 11.5 -12.5 months. He still sleeps in our bed most of the time. Again, none of his siblings were in our bed this long. He wasn't talking or really even trying at all until recently. Now he hears you say something and he says it too. Words like- hi, boo, what, and cat. He is pulling up and not standing solo, though this week he started testing the waters and may have done it for a few seconds. Last night he took my phone, held it to his ear and said hi. Pete taught him how to play Where's Robert. Last night he played it with Jack. It was super cute. Robert laughed so hard that Jack started cracking up.

still has crazy hair and is learning how to get into trouble

Those are the winter birthdays. They keep us celebrating and force us to leave the house when we would much rather be hibernating. We went to the Shedd Aquarium in January, the Museum of Science and Industry in February, and if the weather is good we plan on going to the Brookfield Zoo in March.

Being A Parent Can Be Rough

Have I mentioned that sometimes as a parent I feel totally unprepared to face the daily challenges put in front of me? After 5 kids I still get overwhelmed by the daily things like: baby not sleeping through the night, baby in my bed, teething baby, toddler throwing a fit, toddler learning to assert independence, pre-schooler whining, pre-schooler thinking he is same age as older siblings, school aged children doing homework, getting ready for school, brushing teeth or not brushing teeth or brushing teeth where almost half a tube of toothpaste ends up on the mirror???, and peeing on the toilet rather than in the toilet or anywhere really except where the pee is supposed to go. Yes, these things still frazzle me, and I go back and forth between taking them in stride and losing my mind, but there is one thing I constantly battle with that just weighs me down because I don't know how to deal and it concerns my dear 3rd grader.

Some weeks are good, some days are good, and some are not. Some are trying. Some are hard. Last week was rough. I got a call from his PE teacher who had reached that point all his teachers reach-- she was done with him, she didn't know what to do with him, she wanted me to know she just didn't know how to reach out to him and make him calm down, focus, listen, pay attention, and whatever else it is he does during the school day. Next came a note in his planner from his main classroom teacher saying it had been a hard day. She doesn't always write these notes, so I know it must have been rough on her. She tries very hard, she loves teaching and children, she so wants him to succeed, and she tries so many different ways to help. Finally, I received a phone call from his reading teacher who expressed similar concerns as the PE teacher, but didn't seem quite as overwhelmed. He is an excellent reader, way above grade level, and he loves to read, so this probably helps her out because she can see past the jokes, the silliness, and the talking.

It used to be I would say - Why is it just so hard for you to listen to what the teachers say? Can't you see that you are being disruptive, disrespectful to the teacher, to the students, and that you aren't able to be the best learner you can be when you act this way? I would say- It isn't hard for your brother, he can do it. I learned these were not the best things to say, and he did know what he was doing wasn't what the other kids in class were doing, but it didn't change things. Plus, he isn't his brother and he shouldn't be asked to be. Sometimes I would yell at him-Not again!! Why? I mean can't you just try harder? Didn't we talk about this? Haven't we discussed this at length? Of course, to him I may as well be asking him to climb a mountain and then yelling at him when he can't do it.

Long-term goals give him anxiety because he knows how hard and how much energy it takes to be good and follow the rules (or most of them) so being offered a reward for being good 30 times in a row just shuts him down. He thinks-If I can't even be good one whole day how can I do it 30 times? What if I try my best, but after 5 days I just can't do it again? What if I mess up and then get back on track? Does it matter? No, because you said it had to be 30 days in a row and mine was 5 days in a row, then 3 bad days, but then 5 more good days. I will never make it. It is at this point he decides screw it if I can't make it 30 days I will go ahead and make silly loud noises right now. It is hard, and part of him so wants to make people happy, but he just can't control himself.

We have tried many things and many things work for a brief amount of time, but then they don't. Right now his school has set up this whole support network for him, and there is special language we are all supposed to be using, we are trying to help him learn more self-awareness, mechanisms to control himself, teach him how to realize when he is about to get out of control, and have him ask for a break to read in order to calm down (right now he has unscheduled reading breaks that the teacher doles out), and so when there are a lot of people willing to help and I still get contacted by three teachers in one week- it makes me realize perhaps I wasn't really cut out to be a parent. At this point, I don't know what to say or do. When the teachers call I just say - Yeah Yeah. Ok. I know. They want more from me I can tell. They want tips, guidance, how do you fix this at home, what are the secret strategies, but the truth is that at home he is the same way. We try this or that, certain times certain things work and other times they don't. Sometimes we just tell him he has to get away from us and everyone for awhile, so he reads or he kicks a ball against the house, but there is no magic wisdom I can impart. I guess that is what makes me feel so bad. I am not able to fix it, I don't know how to reach him, and I can't make it better for him or anyone trying to deal with him.

Sometimes on tests he doesn't always read the directions, he doesn't always answer all the parts in a multi-part question, he never shows his work, and he doesn't check his answers because the goal is to be done as quickly as possible. Last week he brought home his math test, and it wasn't pretty. His teacher had written a note saying he finished first then drew on the back and wouldn't follow her suggestion of going over the test again while the other students were finishing. I asked him about his math test, asked what was going on, asked if there was anything he wanted to tell me, and he said-Yeah, did you see the monster I drew on the back? It is really cool. I have been practicing drawing monsters, and I am getting a lot better. Did you see it? I felt like that sort of summed up our whole week.

I don't want him to be someone he's not, I don't want him to see how frustrated I am and think I don't love him, I don't want to give up on him, and I don't want him to give up on himself. Raising a child with a lot of energy, as I call it, is hard. It wears you out, sometimes it makes you feel like a failure, it takes away attention from the other kids, and it means letting go of any notion that he would be 'well-behaved' if I were a better parent. Though I wish I were a better parent.

Goodbye Sweet Friend

It's early in the morning, I am sipping coffee and wrapped in a warm blanket. One thing is missing, one constant by my side is not this morning. Instead, he is another room unable to get up, unable to eat, and at the end of his life. Our poor sweet puppa- Tigran. All pets die and they die before us and that is what we know going into the relationship. One question you have to ask yourself is: Are you willing to love something with all your heart only to lose it? I guess that is the question you must always ask yourself before you love at all. Is it worth it? 

 I naively went into dog ownership, but Pete and I were engaged and my in-laws just bred their dog, so why not?  He is a beautiful dog, and as a puppy he was just so cute. Puppies are hard and there was a moment when Pete thought we should give him back, but like so many times in our marriage, when one of us can't do it or just can't manage the other seems to step in and hold the other up, and so I stepped up and said we could get through the trials of potty-training, dog-training, and furniture that was chewed through, and so we did.

I look back on the early years with Tigran and they are so fun: dog parks, walks, throwing balls, swimming in the pond, and then there is that side of dogs that know when they are needed to support you. Always right there when we were sick, when we were tired, when we just wanted to relax, when we lost Owen, and when the fights between husband or wife were more emotional than just irritating; Tigran was always right there.

When I was pregnant he always knew and he would become a guardian and would stay by my side, especially at night. With every new child brought into our house Tigran was there. He let those kids pull on him, crawl on him, take stuff away from him, and he never once did anything other than get up and move away. Once we had more than one or two kids having a dog seemed too much for me, and this time it was Pete's turn to step up and let me know we could do it. Maybe, I haven't been as available to my sweet dog over these last few years, but I guess this is because I took for granted he would always be there when I needed him, and he was.

Time has passed since I last wrote this. Now Tigran is gone. He is buried in Kentucky on the ancestral golden retriever hill, as Pete says. The kids have all responded differently. Jack is upset and has cried. Luke got a little teary eyed once but then seemed to move away from it. Thomas says he misses Tigran and thinks we should get a new dog right now. I miss him when there is food all around Robert's highchair. I am amazed at how much more I have to clean up.  Last night I caught myself putting a pan on the ground for Tigran to finish off. I also miss him at night or when I am alone in the house and I miss him when I sit down on the couch and he doesn't sit next to me. He was a wonderful dog. I know Pete misses him more than any of us, and it has been the hardest on him for sure.

Goodbye my sweet friend.