I am excited to report that Madame Toddler is starting to use real (non-babble) words! Each day she is adding new words to her expanding vocabulary. A vocabulary that seems to be developing a theme of... dictatorship. Some favorite commands: - "Guh!" (Go!) Accompanied by a vigorous finger shake at the individual (generally Ethan or Fred) who she feels should back off.
- "Dop!" (Stop!) Often proclaimed while she executes her signature twisting arched-back maneuver as I fight to buckle her into her carseat, or her writhing head-duck-dodge as I attempt to braid her hair.
- "Guck!" (Yuck! - also meaning I don't want that!) She said "guck" when Gracie gave her a kiss, but not when she had her first piece of gum - pre-chewed, footprinted, straight-off-the-mall-floor gum. (Based on the hissy-fit she threw when I took it out of her mouth, she apparently did not find it as "gucky" as I did).
- "My!" (Mine!) As everyone knows, mine is a toddler fave, and the basis for most acts of violence committed by two-year-olds. These diminutive toddler tyrants operate according to their own Property Laws:
1. If I like it, it's mine.
2. If it's in my hand, it's mine.
3. If I can take it from you, it's mine.
4. If I had it a little while ago, it's mine.
5. If it's mine, it must never appear to be yours in any way.
6. If I'm doing or building something, all the pieces are mine.
7. If it looks like it's mine, it's mine.
8. If I saw it first, it's mine.
9. If I can see it, it's mine.
10. If you don't stop me from playing with it, it's mine.
11. If it will upset me too much when you take it away from me, it's mine.
12. If I think I can play with it better than you can, it's mine.
13. If I play with it long enough, it's mine.
14. If you are playing with something and you put it down, it's mine.
15. If it's broken, it's yours (no wait, all the pieces are mine).
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Hello! Meet the Over-scheduled Family
When my kids were younger, I had strong convictions that we were not going to be "those parents" with over-scheduled, activity-juggling, burned-out children. (I had other strong parenting convictions, too, about issues like no toy weapons of any kind (which got a bit muddled when light sabers and super soakers came into our lives), and not going overboard with presents at Christmas time, a conviction Randy pretty much discarded each year in his quest to find the perfect toy for whatever child happened to be going through a moody phase, in the hopes of magically quelling the crabbiness. But I digress... )
Randy and I declared that we'd never let crazy schedules get the best of us. I took a parenting class based on the book The Intentional Family, which is all about preserving family ties and not becoming "a loose grouping of individuals with individual timetables and agendas." (A very good read, incidentally). I always imagined over-scheduled would look something like this:
Monday: Piano and Scouts
Tuesday: Chess club and swimming lessons
Wednesday: Soccer
Thursday: Dance and book club
Friday: Art
Saturday: Basketball
In that case, it didn't seem that difficult to avoid a crazy schedule: you simply don't sign up for multiple activities.
Allow me to introduce you to our crazy schedule:
Monday: Abby soccer game, Ethan soccer game
Tuesday: Gracie soccer game, Abby soccer practice, Ethan soccer practice
Wednesday: Gracie soccer practice, Abby soccer game, Ethan soccer practice
Thursday: Gracie soccer game, Ethan soccer game
Friday: Abby soccer practice
Saturday and Sunday: Soccer tournament for someone
Additionally, soccer game doesn't mean playing for an hour at the park down the street. Most games are 30 minutes away or more, and the kids are required to arrive 40 minutes prior to the start.
The fact is, we can't get our kids to their activities without help from friends and family. They're busy and we're outnumbered.
The fact is, even with help, Randy or I might spend two hours a day driving, dropping off, and picking up.
The fact is, from May to July, we may not have more than three or four family dinners (with all six of us present) per week.
It might seem like a no-brainer that we need to curtail soccer. But in reality it's not that simple - at least, not to us, now that we are in it.
Here's the complication: we've come to believe there are benefits to being part of a competitive, higher-level program, whether it's a sport, performing art, or academic group, that might actually make these crazy schedules worthwhile. Many of the benefits of the kids' soccer participation are pretty obvious: regular exercise, learning discipline, developing teamwork and leadership skills ... Of course, some of those benefits could be achieved at a less competitive level - there's always good ol' park and rec, right?
It's the self confidence we see in our kids that makes us willing to taxi them around town during soccer season. I think that confidence comes from working hard and making the team. I love in particular the fact that the girls are beginning to identify themselves as athletes, developing positive self images that aren't based on clothes, hair or popularity. I love seeing Ethan spend time perfecting a soccer move instead of staring at a screen of some kind. I am also proud of the kids' commitment to their teams - their willingness to skip sleepovers, be at practices and play in the rain.
When they were little, I never imagined we'd be driving the kids all over town and picking up Subway for dinner in the van (those people). But I look at the kids and I don't see pressured, stressed or burned out. Teenager-y, moody, and at times argumentative, yes. But along with those lovely qualities they seem pretty confident, happy and high-achieving (except, of course, when they're crabby and unmotivated. Then their confidence probably stems from their ability to make me pull my hair out).
I assure you, I am still a big believer in family dinners and downtime.
We just may need to wait until July.
As I was considering my blogging dry spell, I actually thought the words, "We really haven't had any ridiculous events like the Poopscapade lately."
