"Mom, Why Does Phineas' Voice Change in Later Seasons?"

"What do you think?"

(I figured it was a voice change issue, but while he was thinking about his answer, I was googling to see if they changed actors, because if they had this was going to be a conversation about contract negotiation rather than puberty.)

"As his brain gets bigger, his voice gets deeper?"

Not entirely wrong, from a certain point of view...

The Pisces, Tae Kwon Do and the Promise

Almost 5 years ago to the minute, I delivered X-man. Born during the astrological sign a pisces, he's in the awesome company of Albert Einstein, Michelangelo and Dr. Seuss. He's supposed to be creative, understanding, introverted and romantic. He's supposed to see how he wants life to be rather than how it is. In other words, his fair talent for denial makes a lot of sense.

Over the last 5 years, I've gotten used to these ebbs and flows of raw emotion. During his 2s and 3s, he hit me, bit me and screamed in my face -- a lot. I tried redirection, time outs, talking things out,  and yes -- sometimes screaming back in his face to try to get through to him that none of this was good behavior. Because, dammit, no 2 year old is allowed to have steak knife. I don't care if the lady at the restaurant had it rolled up in a napkin for you with the rest of your utensils or not. Finally, I learned that when I got to my brink, I just needed to walk away. I took a mommy time out, so I could come back and try again. And the weirdest thing happened, he followed me.

Or, more realistically, threw himself onto my legs and cried, "Don't leave me!" And there were times, dear readers, that my heart broke and I gave in and reached down to hold him and comfort him, and he screamed at me some more, which was not the response I was anticipating. Or, he'd say those words and then hit me and call me a bad mother for walking away. And I'd remove him from my leg, shut my bedroom door and listen to him throwing his little body against it screaming, "I'm sorry. Let me in. I'm sorry. Let me in!" Maybe you had this with your child, too. In my heart, I always thought it was because he and I were alone so often. Other kids are motivated by food, TV, rewards -- mine is motivated only by removing myself from his manipulation. But in this entire world, I was always going to be there and vice versa. As much as we loved MacTroll, we couldn't count on him to be around for anything.

It was hard.

Then the lack of self confidence kicked in last summer, so I started looking into the idea of martial arts as a confidence booster. We started at HMD Academy in Savoy in August, and we attended 2 times a week through November and then 3 times a week December through January. Starting in January after earning his yellow belt, X-man started having stomach aches before every Tae Kwon Do class. He didn't want to go. He'd whine and complain, and say things like he wished "Tae Kwon Do was never invented." I'd tell him sick people go home and go to bed. He'd say he was fine to play, but no fine for TKD. When I talked to him about quitting, he'd laugh it off and say that he was just joking ALL THOSE TIMES he said he didn't feel well. So I went into Master Hyong the last week in January and asked to only come twice a week. And that worked -- for a week. And then the complaining started again.

We missed the week that we were in Paris, and after we came back, X-man was home sick the day of class and then on the day of that Friday class, he begged me not to take him. This week was the same thing, so I told him if he didn't go, I needed to e-mail Master Hyong and tell him that we were done, because I had agreed with Master Hyong that we weren't just going to come and go. We needed to commit and go, or stop. X-man agreed it was time to take a break.

Today, 3 days later after I sent the e-mail, at Navy Pier we went to the Build-a-Bear store. He picked out a baby blue bear with pink peace signs all over it. He dressed it in a Tae Kwon Do uniform that came with all the different color belts you could earn.

Then tonight, he was too over stimulated from his big birthday to sleep. I tucked him in, but he snuck out of bed and tried to play legos. An uncoordinated jump off his toy box made him smack his head on the Lego table. He cried. I held him, then I tucked him back into bed. He was in the hall crying about not being able to go to sleep less than 2 minutes later. So he brought his new Build-a-Bear into my bed (a rare instance these days).

When comfortable in my bed, he asked if he could go see Master Hyong and go back to Tae Kwon Do tomorrow. I told him we'd see how he felt about it tomorrow. And if he still felt this way, we'd need to have a conversation with Master Hyong first. Because we couldn't just go back and forth on a decision. He cried a bit about missing his teacher.

Then it hit me that it hit him. Here was a male role model in his life that he saw 2-3 days a week, every week for 7 months. He adores Master Hyong. He just didn't want to work so hard at Tae Kwon Do, but the two come together. It's a package deal, and I think he mourns not having that connection in his life. Because let's face it, he doesn't get a lot of uncle or grandfather time elsewhere. His teachers are all females, and the other parents he sees are all females. And I suddenly wanted to sign him up for some kind of big brother program.

When I got him calmed down, he hugged his little bear to his chest and said, "Mommy, I think I love you."

"You think?"

"No. I love you. No matter what. I love you."

He gave me a hug and then 3 minutes later he fell asleep clutching his bear. My five year old suddenly looked so much younger and smaller. And I remember not that long ago, sitting up in a hospital room, looking at him all wrapped up in a blanket with a little bloody hat on his head thinking that he was a total mystery to me.

"How many dozens of ways am I going to completely fuck this up?" I thought. Then I leaned over, as I did tonight, and whispered into his sleeping ear, "I promise I will always love you, and I will do my best to not screw this up too badly."

I closed my eyes, kissed his forehead and tried to ignore the two tears falling down each of my cheeks. In both of these moments, I'm quite aware that I, alone, am not enough.

(And if you're wondering where MacTroll is tonight. He's in the guest room. He inherited my fever and chills and cough and cold from last week.)

Birthday Adventures

Tomorrow is X-man's fifth birthday. I'm excited. He's excited. MacTroll's excited.

We're heading up to Chicago to go to the Children's Museum at Navy Pier again. We haven't been there since X-man was 2 and a half. I wonder how that review of mine will stand up to a 5 year old.

That's right, at this time in 2006, I'd been feeling regular contractions for about an hour. I remember being excited because I knew we were getting close. And let's face it, I was a miserable pregnant woman. I was at my wit's end six weeks earlier, so at this point I was sitting up letting MacTroll time my contractions when I should have been trying to sleep. Little did I know he wouldn't actually vacate my body until 24 hours later. Yup, I pushed that giant head and its 10.2 lb body outta me. And doing that once -- was quite enough. :-)

(And, although he's holding up five fingers in that last photo, it was taken a year ago, just after his 4th birthday.)

On Saturday, the whole family is leaving for Toronto for a conference where MacTroll is speaking. X-man and I will return on Tuesday, while MacTroll will fly from Canada to Seattle and then come back home again. But hopefully, we'll at least we'll get some time at the Science Center in Toronto and do some painting at the Paint Lounge in Markham. Plus, they have a pool, and a gym in the hotel with a daycare, so I can get some workouts in. Hooray!

When we return, Illinois will be on spring break, and hopefully the weather will allow us to get on the bike and pedal about. A girl can dream, can't she?

Contentment

For once my blog isn't going to be about me as a parent, my fitness achievements/setbacks or my worries.

It's about acceptance.

A few months ago, I was having lots of concerns and worries about being loved and appreciated. I felt taken for granted. And then suddenly over the weekend, I kind of just stopped worrying about it. Instead, I drew in a deep breath. Told myself I had no control over that hot mess, exhaled and moved on.

There are so many things in my life I think I ought to do. Things I need to do. Things I want to do well. Finally at 34, I'm starting to understand how to pace myself. How not to take so many things personally. How I can focus on necessity versus optional.

I'm not sure what took so long to get here, or how long this state of contentment will last. But I'm starting to realize that I'm coming into my own about a lot of things. I know who I am. I know what's mine. I know what's important and that, ultimately, the only person I can control and improve is me.

Internal and external issues be damned.

I'm no rock star. I know.

But in this moment, I'm patting myself on the back, and moving forward.

One more year

Today I helped KTDID begin to set up her classroom at Next Generation. In 3 weeks she'll start teaching middle school science at the private school. Her room is awesome and HUGE. X-man has been Mr. Science lately, so I asked him if he wanted to come see KTDID's room. MacTroll brought him over and he got a short tour of the big school.

X-man's at this crossroads, as he always is, between wanting to be a big boy and wanting to stay -- sheltered. A year from now, he'll attend kindergarten. He's got one year left to "early childhood." He is no longer a baby. He's long and lean. He's bright. He's sensitive and struggling. He makes emotional and logical connections that amaze me. He is beginning to read. He's beginning to write. He's beginning to spell. He loves math. He's relentlessly inquisitive. He's an awesome climber. He was surprised and happy that I bought him tennis shoes that tie, because he wants to learn -- "Then I'll be a big kid." He sees all the older kids in his pre-school room who are about to leave for the big K, and he measures himself to them (which is both positive and negative).

Earlier this week, I mentioned that we changed his room around. He not only wanted his room changed. He wanted the Thomas wall decals taken down and replaced with Batman and Superman (and Wonder Woman if I could find her -- but, of course, I can't). Batman arrived today. So, I took down the Thomas and put up the Batman. I got a big thank you at bedtime, and an extra bedtime snuggle. And normally, I'd make him go to his own room, but for 30 minutes, I loved that he wanted to curl up to me, put his head on my shoulder and fall asleep. But before he drifted off, he repeated, "I love you, Mom" over and over and over again, not because of Batman, just because it felt good to cuddle.

I keep thinking of all the things I want to teach him. I keep trying to tune in to his developing interests while tuning out the annoyances. Let's face it, his overtired repetitive asking of the same question drives me absolutely crazy, as well as the "Mom? Mom? Mom?" As he tries to think of something to say and then accuses me of not listening.

We're raising a boy who likes to fly by the seat of his pants. He likes to fly because he knows that he's got a good support network. And often times it scares me to death that I'm not an adequate safety net. I get tired of always watching, in all honesty. But I think I'm allowing him to be who he is, while trying to provide guidance, even if he thinks I'm a hard ass.

Nights like tonight, I think he knows I'm trying my best so he can be at his best.

Period 3

There are definite stages to parenting -- not unlike child development stages. Today, I did a 10k run at the track at the Savoy Recreation Center. I looked down at all the parents with young children and I remembered when X-man was little I used to take him to the Tag-a-long gym on Thursdays, too. He was free when he was under 1, so we'd go and he'd crawl across the giant gym floor and pull up on the grocery cart to see if he could stuff whatever toys another toddler had put in it into his mouth.

Then a 2 year old would come back to the car, push him down and run away with it. X-man would cry. The mother of the 2 year old would apologize and try to stress sharing and taking turns. And I'd think, "I can't believe that kid just pushed my baby down."

Then my kid became a toddler -- with a biting problem -- who was bigger than most of the other toddlers in his social group. He was as self centered as they came, but he was adventurous. I took him to Sholem Pool where, at 16 months he loved going up and down the water slide. Again, he was moving too slow on the slippery stairs and some 3 year old pushed him out of the way. I caught him before he crashed too hard into anything, but I thought, "I bet that kid has creepy older brothers and sisters who pushed him down like that."

Then my kid turned 3. A mood swinging, independent, loud tantrum, protesting 3. We went to the mall to play. He saw an 18-month-old boy vacating one of the stupid cars that you put quarters in and pushed the kid out of the way and pretty much on his head in order to get his turn in the car faster. The other mother rushed to her toddler. I sighed. Hauled X-man out of the car, explained what he just did hurt the other boy. X-man would look in my eyes. He wouldn't look at the child as he apologized. It was clear he could have given a crap. I looked at the parent with my eyes full of "I'm sorry" and apologized. She picked up her kid, put his coat on and left. My apology meant nothing. She was thinking, "I can't believe that jerk of a kid just pushed my baby down."

Now that X-man is almost 4. He's much more tolerant of babies. He seems to understand that they don't really talk and that they fall over a lot. He likes to give them kisses and cover them with blankets. But he gets frustrated by his fellow 3 and 4 year olds. He still is in that self-centered, self-serving developmental area. So, when he's running around a playground with older boys who don't understand all of his still developing language, but are into playing superheroes and don't mind having another teammate I watch some of the boys assign my child the villain role. This makes him upset. He doesn't want to be the bad guy. Some of the older boys understand this and they're completely cool with being a Sith Lord. :-)

But late at night when my boy is mumbling as he tries to fall asleep. He says things like, "The big kids laugh at me. The big kids are really loud."

"How does that make you feel?" I ask.

"Nervous."

Social acceptance -- our next big developmental challenge as he moves from a baby, to a toddler, to a pre-schooler to a real "big" boy, and I'm developing as a parent right along with him.

Sigh

I picked up X-man from school today to find out that he bit a friend within the first 10 minutes he was in the room this morning. Thus ending a 6-month, non-biting period for him.

When I talked to him about it in the car, he said the other child hit him in the nose. He told his friend not to hit. The friend did it again. So he bit back. I have no idea if what he's telling me is true, but to my knowledge he's never openly lied to me. 

Is it wrong that I miss the mechanics of a 2-year-old room? I miss the Turtles where kids didn't call my son an ogre and tell him he was bad or that he ruins everything. He's trying so hard to fit in with a bunch of kids he doesn't know. 

Anyway, I told him that if someone hits him, he should shout, "FRIENDS DON'T HIT!" as loud as he can. I'm hoping it'll draw attention to the situation from all sides and embarrass the bullies. The teacher did say that they have some near 4 year olds who are starting to push around the smaller children. 

I know teachers have their hands full. I just wish things didn't have to be that way for them. But now I know that in 10 months, my kid is probably going to be shitty to other kids too. 

And that makes me sad.