Yoga

I stood with the other parents and grandparents watching the Kindergym class through the window as they warmed up and stretched before their class. Olivia was right there in the middle, moving along with the instructor, doing some pretty awesome star jumps.

Then the instructor told the kids to stand on their x for a few minutes while she and her assistant got the room ready for class.

And O’s concentration ran away. The next thing I knew, she was doing several yoga moves I certainly never taught her.

As she bent and stretched and moved in ways I certainly can’t, I marveled at the fact that this child didn’t walk until she was twenty-nine months old. She didn’t crawl until she was seventeen months old. She didn’t sit up until she was a year old.

I was one of the lucky parents who never had a doctor tell me that Olivia wouldn’t walk or talk or do most of the things that typical kids do. The doctor who finally diagnosed Olivia didn’t put any limits on our girl. She didn’t tell us what Olivia would or wouldn’t do. She told us to take her home and love her and let her show us what she can do.

She told us that Olivia’s big sister would be the best teacher and therapist that Olivia would ever have. She told us to treat Olivia the same way we treated her sister, to expect the same things from O that we expected from A.

And so we did. And look at her now.

Sure, she can’t quite do a cartwheel, but who cares? She can do a forward roll with no hands. She runs, she climbs, she goes up and down stairs just like any other seven year old.

And she does yoga during gymnastics class.

I couldn’t be more proud. Well, maybe I could have been a little more proud if perhaps Olivia had been paying attention to her gymnastics teacher and doing as instructed instead of having her own little yoga class of one.

Their Bond

My mom and my first born daughter have an amazing bond.

This is not to say that my mom and Olivia don’t adore each other, because they do. But there is something special between a Gram and her first born grandchild. That title goes to Alyssa and she holds it closely to her heart.

Because I was in my early thirties before Alyssa was even born, I think my mom started to worry about ever having grandchildren. So when Alyssa finally arrived, it was as if a whole new world opened for my mom. This granddaughter thing was awesome as far as she was concerned. I was lucky that my mom was able to watch Alyssa for me while I worked in those early years. Alyssa and I also stayed at my mom and step-dad’s house several nights a week for several years.

Alyssa has never known anything but unconditional love from several generations.

Last Sunday, the girls and I were going to go to my mom’s for a short visit. Alyssa had called earlier in the day to ask if this was okay. About an hour before we were going to leave, my mom called to let me know my youngest brother needed her to take him to town and she wanted to know if Alyssa wanted to go.

Of course she did. Olivia ran over to ask me what Lyssie was doing. I told her Alyssa was going with Gram but she, Olivia, was stuck with me. She grinned and ran off to do a no-handed flip on the mattress that currently sits on the living room floor.

Alyssa and my mom ended up spending several hours in town that day, just doing everyday things.

I love that Alyssa gets that individual time with her gram. I wish I had more time to give both my girls more one on one time. But I’m lucky that my mom is only a few miles away and that she seems to like us all enough to make even the occasional trip to town with Alyssa possible.

This mom thing is tough. I am so, so fortunate that I have my own mom still here to talk to, to ask for advice, to lean on when things feel heavy. We laugh, we cry, we love. We are so incredibly blessed to be surrounded by so much love.

Just Because

We haven’t watched much of the Olympics this year. Instead, we’ve watched back to back to back episodes of The Brady Bunch. We got through season one last week and started on season two a couple of days ago. Alyssa grinned with me at the Brady kids starting singing the theme song at beginning of the first episode of season two.

It’s not that we don’t enjoy the Olympics but sometimes, it’s nice to just sit and marvel at the ordinariness of the Brady kids. Those kids were so obnoxious that my eleven year old gets it. They were all so self-centered and yes, often bratty, that it’s just fun to sit back and watch them wallow in the problems they usually create for themselves.

Yesterday afternoon Alyssa caught Olivia humming the opening theme to The Brady Bunch. Alyssa called out, “Mom, look what you’ve done!”

But she said it with a smile so I didn’t take offense. Neither did Olivia.

I’ll almost be sad when the Olympics are over and the other networks finally bring back new episodes of all our usual shows because that might push our watching of The Brady Bunch to the weekends. Though, to be honest, I’m counting down the days to when the new Hannibal season starts. Nine days, in case you’re wondering. I can hardly wait. Though admittedly The Brady Bunch has made the wait a little easier to take.

It’s been fun to watch Alyssa’s reaction to shows I’ve seen over and over again. It’s cute to watch her try to figure out the plot before the story plays out. She’s a smart one, that Alyssa. I’m trying so hard to remind her often of how young eleven really is. The Brady Bunch is helping.

Closed Again; Figuring It Out As We Go

I thought I was so smart this morning when I told Tom that they probably wouldn’t close school even though the roads were pretty crappy. I called him when I got to work to let him know that the state roads I drive to work were bad enough that I drove between 40 and 45 mph all the way to work. “But,” I said, all knowledgeable and crap, “they probably won’t close school. I think they’re standards have changed. If the roads were like this in December, they’d have closed.”

Shows what I know. When I got to my desk and fired up my email, there it was, a message from the school. Closed again. I called him and ate a little crow. Not much, mind you because, duh. But enough that he was satisfied that I now know I don’t know everything.
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Last week, the mother of one of A’s friends mentioned to me concern about a third friend that her daughter and A have in common.

Apparently, this third friend was seen posting inappropriate things on her twitter account. For the record, this friend is eleven years old. The inappropriate thing she posted was an illustration of one of the One Direction boys performing oral sex on one of the other guys in the band.

Ick!

I asked Alyssa if she’d seen this. She told me she hadn’t. I asked if any of her friends talked about things I could consider inappropriate. She said they didn’t.

I want to believe her. I really do. But each time I tell myself that she’s a great kid and she’d talk to me if something like this were brought to her attention, I hear my husband’s ex-wife saying, “I trust my daughter.”

That same daughter was pregnant less than a year after her mother told me that.

Alyssa is not J. I know this. I am not D, J’s mom. But I also know that sometimes, even as much as we might talk to our kids, we can’t always know everything. Our kids don’t always tell us everything, even when we ask point blank.

So I’m figuring this all out as I go along. I’m talking to her, asking questions, reminding her that she and her friends are still so young, they are still so innocent and have so many years ahead of them to figure out boys and all that boys entail.

I pray I’m doing right by her. I pray I’m keeping the lines of communication open and that she’ll keep talking to me, listening to me, letting me in so I can help her when things get tough.

Mommy Fail

So, I feel awful about it but I have to confess that I threw away the Valentine’s Olivia got from her classmates. I just went through the bag, took out the pencils and other collectable items and tossed the rest into the garbage.

And…I didn’t bury them. I just left it all on top, so when she glanced into the trash, she got an eyeful of her Valentines. She just stood there and stared at her precious Valentines piled in the garbage.

Poor baby.

We dug them out and tonight I’ll apologize again for letting them ‘fall’ into the garbage.

But come on! In my defense, how long must we keep those things? They were cluttering up the kitchen counter. I honestly didn’t think she’d ever want to look at them again.

If I’d only thought to put them a few layers down under the cereal box and the package from the macaroni and cheese, she might not have ever thought about them again. Instead, I might have scarred her for life by tossing them and leaving the evidence.

So we’ll keep them a little longer. We might even sit down together tonight and I’ll let her read her friends’ names to me and we can oooh and ahhh over the pretty and silly Valentines she got from her kindergarten peers. And maybe, just maybe, I can soothe the burn of her seeing those sweet Valentines piled in the trash like so much clutter.

An Embarrassment

I got to spend most of my day yesterday at my girls’ school. I dropped them off at school at 7:45. Went back at 10:30 to have lunch with Livie and then was back by 1:00 for O’s party.

While there for lunch, I was walking back from the cafeteria (they call it the auditoria at the girls’ school. I think this is a really stupid word. Sorry. I’m sticking with cafeteria.) with O’s class and we came upon Alyssa’s class as they were making their way from recess (inside, because, yeah, it’s still sub-zero cold here) to the cafeteria for their own lunch.

As Alyssa passed me and her sister, she covered her face, as if too embarrassed by our mere presence to even acknowledge that she knew us.

I’ll admit, it stung. I wondered if she thought she was being cool by acting that way or if she was truly embarrassed by us.

I’d like to stop here and say that I was mature and just let it go, figuring that she’s eleven and in fifth grade and that’s what eleven year old fifth graders do.

Except that’s not how I handled it. Not even close.

On the way home from school, I asked Alyssa if her friend T is embarrassed by her mom. Alyssa was in good spirits and answered quickly and happily, “Yes!”

I then asked, “So, are you guys truly embarrassed by us or do you just say you are because it’s the cool thing to say?”

She replied, “Oh, we’re really embarrassed by you.”

And I still didn’t just let it go. I went on, “Well, the only reason I ask is so I can figure out a way to not embarrass you.”

She shrugged and asked for another Rice Krispy treat.

When we got home, I told Tom about the incident. He told me, “You can’t be bothered by something your obnoxious eleven year old said.”

I shrugged. Sure I can, I thought.

So off we went to gymnastics.

Alyssa’s two hour class gets one break during which the girls come out to the waiting area to get a drink of water. As she passed me and Olivia, I mentioned that we’d be stopping at KFC for chicken on the way home. She smiled and went back to class.

But wait, my obsession with being an embarrassment is not over. After we got the chicken and started home, I asked Alyssa, “Would you rather I not talk to you when you’re out of class for those few minutes?”

She sighed. “Mom, I was kidding about you really embarrassing me. I like feeling embarrassed by you, but I never really do. I just think it’s fun to act embarrassed.”

I let it go with that. Because I’m mature and all.

But seriously, one thing I really, really don’t want to be is an embarrassment to my kids. I can handle being the silly, fun mom or the mean mom who won’t let her fifth grader take her electronic device to school even though every single other kids takes theirs. But I don’t want to be an embarrassment. And if I turn into one, I’d like to figure out what I’m doing to cause it and fix it.

Like I said, I’m so mature and self-confident.

Party Prep

The school the girls attend has three parties are year for grades K through 4. Mothers are asked at the beginning of the year to volunteer to either plan the party or help the planner with the party.

I volunteered to plan the Halloween party and the Christmas party. I was lucky enough to have a co-planner for the Christmas party.

I volunteered to merely help at the Valentine’s day party, which is tomorrow.

Last night while O was in the bath, I used craft tape to adhere six rectangular pieces of felt together. I then used pipe cleaners and more felt and made some arrows. I used fabric paint and made an outline of a cupid on the big, taped-together pieces of felt.

I used more craft tape and attached some felt to the back of two masks, which will serve as blindfolds for my homemade Pin the Arrow on Cupid game. Their kindergartners, I’m lucky they don’t know to expect more from me.

Tonight, I’ll make two sheets of pink Rice Krispie treats which will be chilled and then cut into heart shapes. I’ll trace the outside of the hearts with red frosting and that will be that.

The party is tomorrow because the girls originally had Friday off school. But the school decided to turn that day into a makeup day for all the days missed due to bad weather. Better now than in July right?

I love that I get to do these kinds of things. I love that Olivia enjoys having me in her class, interacting with her classmates and seeing her in her ‘other’ world.

I also know that as the kids get older, the games/crafts/snacks will probably have to get more creative. Last year Alyssa’s class enjoyed a lot of BINGO and cake pops.