How Did We Get Here?

Twelve more days of kindergarten. 12. A whole school year has flown by in a blur of homework assignments, reading time, class parties, field trips, and general craziness. Here's what I've learned about (or had reinforced) while Padraic learned how to read and write, add and subtract, tell time on both types of clocks, and count money.

(1) Last-minute notices for things: OK, so I already knew this was a peeve of mine because we've used a day-care center for six years and they are also fans of last-minute notices. As much as I love the teachers and staff at our elementary school, I do not appreciate getting notices for stuff needing to be sent in or special activities requiring parent volunteers without having at least one weekend between the request and the date the doodad or a response is due. We have a busy schedule aside from school, and it's not always possible for me to squeeze an extra errand into an evening without lots of warning, but I'm more likely to be able to find time over the weekend.

(2) Fundraisers: Mixed feelings here. I know our public schools need more funding for all sorts of things to support students, so I don't want to deny them that. But I also don't want to be hitting up friends and family to buy stuff several times per year or buying stuff myself all the time. I do like that our elementary school has family fun nights one Friday a month, where they earn a little dough via admission fees, because at least then families are spending quality time together while the fundraising is happening. Unfortunately, we were always too exhausted after the long work week to attend any of them.

(3) School pictures: Here I'm a fan because the company our elementary school uses charges roughly half what the company our day care uses charges. And somehow they continue to get our shy guy to put on that handsome grin of his so we're not buying pictures that look like his dog just died.

(4) Scholastic book fairs: I still LOVE, LOVE, LOVE these like I did as a child. The choices, the great prices, the smell of books. What's not to love?

(5) Class parties: Holy chaos, Batman! Snacks on the floor, snacks on the kids' faces and clothes, sugar highs everywhere! And me chasing son #2 around the room. They can be lots of fun, but that is one high-energy hour that leaves me needing a nap.

(6) Birthday parties for classmates: We attended a lot of these, and Padraic, feeling out of his element at the various play places where they were held, participated in none of them. Lots of sitting on the sidelines, with me just nodding and waving to the other kids' parents as they sprinted by. Oh, well. I got to eat a lot of cake.

(7) Birthday party, with entire class invited: Two dozen 5- and 6-year-olds at a bowling alley. I think you can fill in the blanks yourself. But priceless memories of shy guy actually being social in a large group at a public place. Miraculous!

(8) Buses: Having a bus stop at the end of your driveway is super convenient, but that doesn't help at all on rainy or freezing days. I still wished I didn't have to go even that far from my warm, dry, and cozy house. And when you're a harried mom who is supposed to write a note every morning to specify which bus your son should take home--the one to day care or the one straight home--you will screw up at least a few times, causing all sorts of stress.

(9) Lunches: Packing lunches stinks. But letting my kid eat too many public school lunches (note to school: I do not consider five fried mozzarella sticks to be an entree) isn't cool with me, either.

(10) Teachers: The most important element of the school experience, and we were so very lucky to get on helluva teacher for Padraics's kindergarten year. Maybe if we're really, really good from now till September 2012 we'll be lucky enough to get her as Henry's kindergarten teacher.

We've had a great year. We've had a stressful year. Padraic has won two good-citizen awards, which was not a surprise to us, I can tell you. Our helpful and polite son has continued to be so while in school and has also begun to blossom socially and certainly excelled academically.

I'm looking forward to whatever craziness summer will bring our way, and before I know it I'll be putting a first-grader onto that bus at the end of our driveway.

We're Gonna Make It After All!

With Padraic's first day of kindergarten looming a week in the distance (come on and get here already!), I feel the need for some reminiscences and to put my thoughts out there about this new experience we're all facing. Yes, our whole family is transitioning as Padraic starts public school. Life will never be quite the same. I happen to think it's gonna be better than ever.

When Padraic was born, my first thought was, "I'm a mom, and this kid is gorgeous!" Then we took him home from the hospital a couple days later, and between long periods of staring at his cuteness I kept thinking, "Why the hell didn't anyone tell me how hard parenting would be?" I got no sleep and had no time to do anything other than tend to his needs. I still clearly remember that when he was about 8 weeks old he finally slept for longer than 2hrs at a time (which he'd never done, day or night), which meant so did I. I cried with relief, and all I'd gotten was a paltry 3hrs of uninterrupted sleep for the first time since his birth. It took him--and his little brother--a solid year to start sleeping through the night on a regular basis, so you can imagine how rough it was getting out of bed each morning. Maybe it was because they were breastfed since breast milk digests more quickly than formula, or that they wanted the comfort of Mommy holding and rocking them more than they wanted sleep. But that first year had just as many hellish moments as joyful ones because of juggling work and home life on next to no sleep; I will admit to that.

Back then I swear I thought Ken and I would never survive to see the day that Padraic would start public school. The day-care bills were crushing, toddlerhood was maddening, and we were just holding out for the first day of kindergarten to come as if it would be proof that we could actually do this parenting thing. And now, here it comes!

Only one week from today I will put my firstborn son on the school bus that stops at the end of our driveway, and I will go inside our house and cry. First I will cry out of nostalgia and the overwhelming emotions that come with watching our little boy go out into the big world, and then I will cry from sheer relief that we made it through over five-and-a-half years of being full-time employees and a full-time Mom and Dad. Five-and-a-half years of getting up at 5am to get Padraic (and later, him and his little brother) to day care early enough that we could beat rush-hour traffic into Philly and then leave work early enough to beat it back out of the city again. Five-and-a-half years of paying out the wazoo for day-care at some great facilities where teachers and staff have become like second families to us and our kids. Five-and-a-half years of Ken surviving as a single parent while I travel for work.

While we'll continue being full-time parents and employees, and there'll still be a day-care bill, and I'll still have to travel for work, we'll have reached the milestone that seemed to impossible back in January 2005 when a 7lb 8oz baby boy first arrived in our world and turned it topsy-turvy. Of course, now we'll have more homework than pre-K and more parent-teacher conferences and more in-school activities (some of which we are bound to miss because of our work schedules, and we'll feel all the guilt appropriate to those instances), but we're entering a new world of opportunities, too. New friends--both for Padraic and hopefully parent friends for us as well--new activities and interests, new places explored during field trips. It's exhilarating and a little nerve-wracking all at the same time. But so far, for me at least, exhilaration is winning. I hope the same is true for my favorite 5-year-old. :)

Padraic the Introvert

As someone who teeters dangerously on the border between extrovert and introvert herself, I have great empathy for those who tend to be called "shy." One of those people is my firstborn son, Padraic.

Padraic was just as bubbly and smiley a baby as his little brother Henry was at that age, but as he grew older his personality became more formed, and it was clear that he would be an introvert. Padraic has a few friends he loves to play with, and his brother is his favorite of the group, but otherwise he is more content to build with his blocks, Lincoln Logs, and K'Nex and then excitedly describe to me what machine he has built. His building skills and creativity far outweigh mine, and I am in awe of his perseverance in putting together such interesting creations.

While being an introvert is not a disease, there sure are times when life is hard on the shy. We just went through a big one with Padraic yesterday--his pre-K graduation. Last September we had to switch the boys to a day-care center that would offer busing to our local public school so the boys could get there and back while Ken and I are at work, and I do find myself wondering if Padraic would be less introverted had we been able to stay at the center where he'd been since he was 14-months-old. The center where everyone knew him and he knew everyone. But there's no way of knowing.

I agonized for weeks over whether to even have Padraic participate in graduation because he is so uncomfortable with public performances. We'd already weathered a couple holiday shows where he ran to me, sobbing, and clung to me during the whole ordeal rather than return to his friends and join in the singing. Then there was some progress at last year's holiday show where instead of running to me he chose to hide behind the rest of his class as if he yearned to be invisible.

We did decide to have him go through the pre-K graduation, at his teacher's suggestion that it would help him feel like he was part of something, and also so he wouldn't be left out during the weeks that his class practiced their songs and skits for the big day. But that doesn't mean my stomach didn't whirl and churn as the day approached. And that day was yesterday.

My sister drove out to attend the ceremony, which Ken was unable to attend due to the weird timing--1pm on a workday afternoon. When we got there and received our programs, we realized this was gonna be a long ceremony, and I got more nervous, wondering if Padraic could get through almost 45mins of sitting in front of an audience full of strangers. As it turned out, he made it through, though his teacher reported to me that he was trembling. (Did someone just stab me in the heart?)

The program quickly got started with some songs, which Padraic stood up for but did not even pretend to sing along with. Then they passed a microphone around the group of 28 kids for them to say what they wanted to be when they grew up, and when it was his turn he quickly handed the mike to the next kid in line, without a single peep. None of the other kids even flinched as they proudly stood up and proclaimed that they wanted to be a football player, cheerleader, princess, or even a meteorologist when they grew up.

Soon it was time for each child to come up to the front of the group and receive his or her diploma from the teacher. The teachers did a really great job of telling a little bit about each child as he/she made the journey forward to get the diploma. Some were "most likely to be a CEO" or "most likely to give you a hug," and with Padraic coming up dead last, I was worried that his teacher would say something about him being shy. But she didn't tack that label on him at all. She deemed Padraic "most likely to be a famous inventor." I started to cry a little. But then I noticed that, unlike all the kids before him, Padraic had not left his seat to claim his diploma. One of the teachers went to get him, and he grudgingly moped his way up to the teacher who handed him his diploma. When the whole audience, who'd been silent during the lull of cajoling Padraic out of his chair, erupted into applause, I was a blurry-eyed mommy indeed.

But we both made it through the experience, and I am proud of Padraic for the progress he has made. He may not choose to participate fully in events that put him in the spotlight, but he suffered it gracefully and maturely. His favorite part of the whole event--even including the cake and water ice--was handing out bouquets of flowers to his two current teachers and one former teacher. I almost couldn't keep up with him as he barreled through the crowd of so many parents and other guests, looking for his teachers so he could hand them their flowers and thank them for being such great teachers.

I am proud of my little introvert for sticking to his guns when he doesn't want to speak up in front of a crowd. And I'm super proud of him for thinking more of others than of himself. Although he was the only introvert in that crowd of 28 kids, I know there are others out there. If you have such a child or encounter one, please remember to nurture them and appreciate who they are. These quiet, thoughtful kids are capable of some pretty awesome things.

Love you, Padraic!

So much happiness packed into one day

Where do I begin? Today was all around an incredible day.

(1) It's my sister's 35th birthday. I mean, 29th birthday. ;) So I got to wish her many happy returns and totally razz her about being halfway to 70. When I turn 34 next month I will only be halfway to 68, which is vastly younger. I also got to have my boys sing "Happy Birthday" to her on her voicemail (since she never answers her cell phone), and it was darn cute. Probably good that she didn't answer because now she has it recorded for many humorous playbacks, complete with the sound of Henry blowing out candles at the end.

(2) This morning my friend Tori welcomed her second son into the world. I got to see a picture, and he is a handsome dude. Having experienced the joys of having two little gentlemen in my life, I know that Tori, her hubby, and her older son have many happy, loud, and interesting days and years ahead of them.

(3) A business trip I had been dreading that was set up for later this year was canceled. CANCELED. Thank God. Call me a wuss, but I don't want to travel to unfamiliar territories alone. I go to many major U.S. cities each year by myself for work, and I make damn sure I don't go out alone after dark, so there is a lot of sticking around hotels. This trip would've been to the southern coast of Mexico via a flight into Mexico City, a connecting flight to a regional airport, and then a decent bus ride to the final destination. Sorry, but I don't feel all that safe traveling like that by myself. I had been wondering how the hell to mention that to my superiors, or whether I even would, and now that situation no longer exists. Whew.

(4) Today was my last day in the office till next Wednesday because we leave on vacation tomorrow night. I'll spend the day running various errands like picking up snacks and sunglasses, bringing the dogs to the kennel, and mailing some packages I wanted to get out earlier this week and didn't manage to. Then we fly to Tampa and drive about an hour to my ILs' second home, which really is my MIL's primary home since she switched residency awhile back.

Our plans while there include going to the Phillies/Twins game at spring training on Saturday, hitting the local zoo, maybe going to the children's museum in St. Pete since Friday is supposed to be rainy, celebrating Mom-Mom's 29th b'day (everyone is turning 29...it's weird), and possibly swimming if I can stand it. Seventy degree air is gonna feel mighty cold when coming out of an 86-degree pool, and I hate to be cold. But for the boys I might be able to suck it up just once.

It'll hopefully be a nice, relaxing vacation, and then we'll return home and have to hit the ground running. Lots of other things going on in March, including a business trip for me and kindergarten registration for Padraic. Exciting times!

Operation Orphan Hairbows for Ukraine

If you'll allow me to bend your ear for a moment, I'd like to tell you a story.

Six years ago when I was pregnant with Padraic, a coworker who had an infant son suggested to me that I visit Babyzone.com to learn about all things baby- and pregnancy-related. I found the message boards there and joined the one that had other women expecting babies during January 2005 as I was.

Over the years almost five dozen of those women and I have stayed in touch, sharing our parenting successes and oopsies, new pregnancies and some heartbreaking losses. We've built an amazing support system that some people might question since so many of us have never met in person. This group has seen me through plenty of my own highs and lows, and I have had the distinct pleasure of meeting a handful of them in various cities as I've traveled for work. Each woman in this group has made a positive difference in my life and my parenting.

So let me tell you a bit about my friend Brooke from this group. Brooke and I have not yet gotten to meet, but she is very dear to me. She is an integral part of our group and has been for most of the wild ride. There's one meaningful difference, though. Brooke hasn't been raising a biological child this whole time like the rest of us have. Until recently, Brooke and her husband were primary guardians for her 5-year-old nephew, and it was stories of his growth and development that she has shared with us and through her experiences with him she has become an amazing parent. Across the years they've also tried to start a biological family. Life being cruel as it sometimes is, they've lost several precious angels through miscarriage, which led her and her husband to start considering adoption as a means of growing their family.

As one step toward feeling out how they'd feel about adoption, Brooke and her hubby welcomed an 8-year-old girl from a Ukrainian orphanage into their home for three weeks over the holidays. This girl, Luba, changed their hearts and lives. They are now dedicated to adopting Luba and possibly other children from Ukraine to round out what will surely be a very happy family.

Luba is back in her orphanage in Ukraine now, but Brooke is able to keep in touch via various means, including other families who go over to adopt a child, and staff at the orphanage. One thing Brooke learned is that at Easter time the girls at the orphanage don't tend to get any presents. The day is honored as a religious holiday, but gifts are usually not part of the situation as they are here in the United States.

To bring some joy to the Luba and the other girls at the orphanage, Brooke started Operation Orphan Hairbows for Ukraine. Her goal is to supply each girl at Luba's orphanage with a new hairbow of her own by Easter. If she gets more hairbows than there are girls at that orphanage, she'll start sending bows to another nearby orphanage so those girls can have something special, too. She's looking for people who make hairbows or want to purchase and donate hairbows for this cause. At the same time, Brooke is operating a fundraiser to help offset the massive costs involved in international adoption. She'll be raffling off various goods and services to get them closer to traveling to Ukraine to bring Luba, and possibly some siblings, home.

If you are inspired to do so, please visit her blog at http://ourukrainianfundraiser.blogspot.com/ to learn more about what donation opportunities there are. Thanks!

Random Thoughts

I haven't bothered with this blog since last summer because I don't feel like I have anything earth shattering to say about parenthood. It is what it is. Some days we laugh our butts off at the bizarre things the boys do and say, and other days we want to slam our heads into a wall out of frustration.

As the boys get older, though, I find I can relax more and enjoy their company in a way I couldn't when they were babies and toddlers who relied on us (me) for every little thing. The big guy turned 5 in January, and his little brother is 2.5yrs. One potty trained kid and one on his way. I am already dreaming of diaperless days in our household. Such a freeing state of being. And since they're both boys, I don't even worry about long car trips. They can pee anywhere: by the side of the road, in an empty Gatorade bottle. Who cares? When we get to stop buying the little man diapers, we are FREE!

I have already begun to notice how our house is becoming cleaner and more organized, bit by bit, as the boys become more able to do things for themselves. For those of you who have seen my house, I don't mean it's now ready for House Beautiful or anything. I just mean that sometimes beds get made, and often there is more than just a path through the toys in the living room. It's far from perfect, but it is improving. All because the boys spend more time playing with each other than relying on me for their every happiness. It's bittersweet, certainly, but it's the way parenting goes. If you do the job right, the kids grow up and leave you, maybe calling you once a week to let you know they still care.

I'm doing all I can to enjoy these last years of real "kidhood" in our house. Already P is a little man instead of a boy, and H is moving up to those ranks quickly. I've got the lawn mower all ready for them when the time comes.

Happy campers

Take two kids under age 5, two beagles, and two tired parents. Add one enormous tent. Result? Pure joy for all!

Last week Ken suggested to me that we have a backyard campout this past Saturday night, and I was all for it. When we were dating and then DINKS, we used to camp a couple times a year with friends of ours who were also DINKS. I recall with some degree of longing the late nights by the campfire, talking, drinking, laughing, freeing ourselves of all responsibility.

But except for Ken going on his annual canoe trip with cousins, neither of us has been camping since we started our family. Lots of things come to a screeching halt when you have little ones, but the good news is that eventually you get to share y our past favorite with a new generation.

So Saturday morning Ken mowed the lawn (usually my job, but I was sick) and by midafternoon he had a chance to pitch the ginormous tent that we affectionately call "the 3-room circus." We plopped an air mattress at either end, a sleeping bag next to one mattress, and a pack-and-play in the back. We ate burgers and dogs on the deck, and at dusk we lit the outdoor fireplace. We invited the neighbor kids over to roast marshmallows and make s'mores, and they all played with glo sticks and romped around the yard.

Henry was the first to crash in his new outdoor bedroom. We tucked him into his pack-and-play with his favorite two blankets and "snuggle guy," his stuffed rattle toy, and off to snoozeland he drifted. Could've cared less that he wasn't in his own bedroom.

I was next. I turn into a pumpkin much closer to 10:30pm than midnight, so I crawled into my sleeping bag atop one of the air mattresses pretty close to that time. Henry picked up his head to smile at me and then crashed back down after I said, "Night-night, Henry." I wasn't yet asleep, though, when Ken brought a newly sweatsuited Padraic in to tuck him into his sleeping bag. Padraic was psyched that we were camping, but he settled right in and fell asleep, with beagles Bailey and Tully close at hand.

We really thought that the dogs would be the most difficult ones to persuade to do the camping adventure, but they are dogs. They wanted to be where their people were. We just feared that they'd wake up in the middle of the night and howl their fool heads off because of a bunny hopping through the yard in search of a late-night snack, but although Tully woke up at one point and sniffed the air furiously, Ken was able to settle him back down before a peep was made. Whew.

Instead of awaking at 5:30am when the dawn peeked through the trees above, the boys (and even the dogs!) let us sleep until the heavenly late hour of 7:45. At which point we all crawled out of the cozy tent into the cool morning air and went in search of the bathroom and breakfast.

So now we have made it through the trial run, happy and surprisingly well rested. While we might not actually take the dogs to a campground and certainly aren't taking them to Wisconsin when we visit SIL, BIL, and our nephew in a few weeks, we will definitely be taking the boys on camping adventures, both in our backyard and beyond.