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Respect The 'All Done'

3/2/2016

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We taught our children some basic sign language before they could even talk.


They easily learned to give us cues using their hands to communicate how they were feeling by the time they were 6 months old. We didn't teach them much, but the few signs we did teach them could be used to express a multitude of feelings. We taught them four basic signs: more, all done, please and thank you.


Often times my children would sign things that made perfect sense to me


When my first born, Lucia, was about 8 months old, she pulled herself up to the couch where I was sitting with a bowl of ice cream. She put her hand up to her chest and rubbed her chest to say "please".

From her signing "please" I knew she was asking me to give her some of my ice cream. When I didn't share with her right away, she began bending her knees with a little bounce that helped her get up on her tipee-toes, over and over and she then began rubbing her chest almost violently.

She didn't have to scream or cry to get her point across to me. She was able to use her sign language to let me know that she really ,really, really, wanted me to share my ice cream with her.  She continued to sign "please" over and over until I finally put a little bite on the spoon and right into her mouth.

She immediately smiled, put her hand to her chin and singed "thank you" which was quickly followed by touching her fingertips from one hand to the other repetitively as she then asked for "more".
I had no problem sharing my ice cream with her. At  8 months old children watch and learn from what we do. They mimic us and want to do everything like us. It made sense to me that she wanted to eat my ice cream, and how could I blame her for asking for more. I too always want more ice cream!


Other times my kids would sign something I couldn't identify with and wasn't sure how to respond  


We were visiting my dad on Key Biscayne. Although she was only 6 months old, it was not her first trip to the island. I introduced the ocean to her at just  weeks old when we made our first trip to my dad's house. I wanted her to love the ocean as much as I did when I was a kid and I never wanted her to be a stranger to the water.  So I took her often and frequent.

As I held my little girl we ventured out into the ocean  further and further and the waves got a little higher and higher. 

Each time a wave came I'd hold her up so they'd splash on her chest and back.

But as they splashed some of the salt water would get on her face and she'd squint her eyes shut and pucker her lips.

I'd laugh and giggle and kiss her. I'd wipe the water off her face and let her know it was okay. If I was calm, she'd be calm, right?

Wrong.

It didn't take long before she threw her hands up in the air and began to twist her wrists back and forth.

That is the sign in sign language for "all done".
I was not ready for her to be "all done".  And as her mother I should know what's best for her right? She wasn't in any real danger and I wanted her to love the ocean and if I didn't force her to stay out in the ocean with me then I was letting her know it was okay to quit and I'm not a quitter and I don't want her to be a quitter either and I wanted to stay in the water with her and show her that the ocean was good and not something to dislike or be afraid of and maybe if I just got her away from the waves she'd stop signing "all done" and she'd be okay...
I wiped the salt water out of her eyes again, gave her more kisses and told her not to worry, the water didn't hurt and I tried to laugh it off and looked for a smile in return. But her smile never came, as a matter of fact, the more I tried to convince her that it was ok the stronger her wrist flips got and the more intense she tried to let me she was "all done".
I was left with no choice but to respect her desire to get out of the ocean.
We made it back to the shore where she sat and happily played in the sand. And even when she tried to eat the sand, she still seemed happy that she wasn't in the ocean at that moment.

Picture

We went back out into the ocean in strides and each time she would hit a point where she would put her hands in the air and flip her wrists and tell us that she was "all done."


Respect the all done


My husband and I jokingly began to use the phrase "respect the all done" everytime my daughter motioned she was ready to get out of water.  We have continued to say this phrase hundreds of times over the last 6 years as parents to remind us to listen to our children when they communicate their needs to us, even when we don't understand them.


You see, as a new mother, this was a valuable lesson for me.  A lesson that taught me to listen to my children even when their needs for themselves might differ from what I thought they needed. 

A lesson that my children's needs are often times different from my own.

A lesson which taught me that my children will communicate to me what their personal needs are based on their personal strengths and weaknesses.

And as their mother my strengths and weaknesses may be different from theirs. A lesson that  I need to respect their needs the best I can when they express them to me even when I don't understand.

Because it might be possible that when I listen to their needs and hear them and meet them the best I can I am teaching them that I respect them.

And it is possible that if I respect them I am building up their confidence. And if their confidence is built up,  it is possible they will walk through this world full of respect for themselves and for those around them. 
  

My daughter is now 6 year old and I'm still learning to respect her boundaries in order to gain her trust.


On a normal day when I pick my kids up from school, they throw their lunch boxes and backpacks at me in the front seat and they pile in the car. Just picture a clown car where 29 clowns pile into a VW bug, that's what we look like at the pick up line.

And before they are even in their car seats or buckled, all 4 of them, full of excitement from their day at school start to talk at the same time. And with as much speed and volume as an auction announcer they each tell me what fun things they did at school.

Earlier this week was no different from any other day. They all fought for air as they spoke at the same time...

And I yelled for silence.



And just like every other school day. I gave permission to one child at a time to talk and tell me about their day. And one at a time they spoke while everyone respectfully listened.

Olivia, my more sensitive child went first. Each day she likes to tell me how she made it through the school day without crying. She has a hard time speaking up and sharing how she feels with her teacher and peers, so I've been teaching her this year that her words are more powerful than her tears. She beamed with pride as she told me how she used her words at PE to tell her PE teacher she was upset she wasn't on her twin brother Lochman's team. Her teacher listened to her and placed her on the same team as her brother.  And just as she was about to finish her story...  

Lucia piped up and said...
"Well, I cried today at recess."
I think all of us in the car were a little surprised by that. She is the oldest child and the other children look up to her. She's a big first grader. Why would she cry at recess? 

So I immediately replied, "What happened? Did you get hurt?

And for the first time in my parenting experience I heard these words and they rolled off her tongue as clear as day:  "I don't want to tell you."


She no longer uses sign language like she did when she was 6 months old. Now at the age of 6 she speaks her words and her feelings with her voice. 

But as I looked back in my review mirror waiting to hear the answer to my question if she got hurt, I made eye contact with her and listened as she spoke the same words again, "I don't want to tell you".

But even though I heard the words come out of her mouth, I envisioned a time before she could talk when she would throw her hands up in the air and rotate her wrists. "I'm all done".   

I saw her, with her words, tell me she was all done.

And It took everything I had to respect that.

I asked a few more questions if her teacher or friends knew she was crying, did she go to the office, etc... She answered those questions with a  little smile and seemed to be in good spirits, but stood firm on her "I don't want to tell you" why response.
We spent the next 10 minutes of the car ride home making up silly reasons as to why she might have cried at recess.

"A hawk scooped down out of a tree and landed on your head and its force knocked you over and you fell on a stick that got caught on your dress and when you got up your dress tore and you got embarrassed and hid behind a tree to cry."

She joined in the fun and made up silly reasons as to why she might have cried and we all laughed, but the facts and seriousness of the day was that my 6 year old wanted to let me know she cried at school but didn't want to give me any more information then that. She was "all done" sharing.   

And as her mother, I had to respect that.
When she went to bed that night I told her I was sorry she had cried at school and I thanked her for sharing that with me. And I told her that I respected that she didn't want to tell me why. I told her some things are private and sometimes we need to process our feelings by ourselves before we share them. And of course I told her that if she ever needed to tell me why she cried that day or any day, I would always listen and as long as it is not harmful to anyone, I will always respect when she is done sharing.
I didn't tell her about the time when she was 6 months old and I respected that she was all done in the ocean. I didn't tell her that we got back in the water for longer periods of time each time before she'd throw up her hands and twist her wrists to say she was done again and we'd get back out.

Because the thing is that now at the age of 6, I can't keep her out of the water.

She spent last summer in the pool and the ocean, upset every time we had to get out of the water to go home. All winter long she has begged me to take her to the covered pools and asked when the neighborhood pool will open again.

She asks me daily if she is finally old enough to be on the swim team and dreams of a day that she can swim with the dolphins.

Her goal in life is to be a dolphin trainer.

Picture

It is my hope for my children that in the same way Lucia learned to trust the water by having her boundaries respected, that she and all my children will learn to trust me and others around them with their feelings as they have their personal boundaries respected.

Respect the all done.

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DIARRHEA, ALGEA, REFLUX AND BLUEBERRIES 

1/12/2016

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*This post was originally written July 24, 2011
It was copied over from an old blog I had written.
We had a great typical enjoyable Saturday...until we got home...diarrhea, algae, reflux and blueberries...oh what a night.

The day started normal. My husband got up at 5:30 to meet a guy for a 60 mile bike ride. All the while, I was awake with babies and watched the sun come up, as I do most mornings now. The coffee pot can't make the coffee fast enough and I usually chug down the first cup burning hot and then sip the remaining cups as I cuddle my children. At 7:00 my 2 year old woke and at 8:00 the twins. All four of us; me, her and the twins, cuddled on the couch, which means everyone is sitting on me, and we watched as many Dora episodes as humanly possible before one gags, or until my 2 year old turns into Dora herself (is that possible?)
​

Then an hour later it was time to put the two bambino's down for their nap. At which point, I got dressed to go to the YMCA, got my toddler ready and packed everyone's diaper bags. My husband got home and we waited for the babies to wake up so we could leave. I had asked my husband if he would go to the Y with me and show me the workouts he used to do with a friend of his when we lived in Nashville. Both of them got in great shape following a simple regime and well, since I recently gave birth to twins, I will do just about anything to try to get in shape myself right now even if I have to ask my husband for help. If you know me I hate asking anyone for help, especially my husband! I feel like it has been years since I've really been able to work out. I got pregnant in 2006 and miscarried, I stopped working out after that since I felt I brought the miscarriage on from running 50 miles a week. I got pregnant again in 2008 and gave birth in 2009, breastfed for 9 months and while I started running again then, it became increasingly hard to find the time. I was working full time and so when I wasn't working I didn't want to stick my child in daycare so I could work out because I had that mommy guilt of not being with her enough. I mostly ran with her in the jogger. And right when I felt I was getting back in shape...I ended up pregnant again and so the cycle continues...
I never ask my husband to teach or show me anything, so this shocked him. He is my husband, not my coach, not my instructor, not my teacher and not my mentor. When he tries to "show" me something we end up in a fight. We actually call our canoe the "divorce boat" because we are stuck in it together and I always do it my way, which is the wrong way according to him and then we end up in a fight. The best thing we can do for our marriage is tip the thing over and swim. But that's a lesson for another time. You can read more about our marriage arguments here.

Yes, he was shocked, but agreed to "show" me his workout. He reminded me that the only time I've listened to him was when I was giving birth to our first child naturally and the pain was getting out of control and I was about to lose it. He grabbed my face and said, "get it together, now". Suddenly that was all it took for me to calm down and in fact, I did get it together. He said that might just be the only time I didn't try to argue with him and tell him I was right and he was wrong, so he'd be happy to show me his workout, but added that he wasn't sure why because he knew I wouldn't listen to him anyway.
​
The babies woke up and off to the YMCA we went. I can't believe we were able to work out a full 45 minutes without the nursery workers coming to get one of us. Every time I leave the babies in the nursery at the Y, which has been most week days for the past 3 weeks, they have to come and get me because someone is crying and they can't get them to stop. It really puts a damper on working out. I may or may not have hidden from the nursery workers before when I see them walking into the fitness room looking around. I may or may not have bent down to tie my shoe behind a large piece of exercise equipment. It may look like I am tying my shoe, but I am just trying to duck as she walks by looking for me. The other mothers in the fitness room can rest assured she's not coming for them because they always come for me. And I am happy to report that when they can't find me, they usually resolve the issue on their own. I've gone to pick up my kids and they mentioned to me that one of them was crying, but when they couldn't find me they rocked him or her and eventually all was okay.
​
So it amazed me that this trip was a success. No babies cried, I learned a new work out routine and everyone was hungry so we headed to chick fil a, so we could eat and our 2 year old daughter could play. Then we were ready to go home and take a nap. That too was a success. As everyone napped, including my husband. I on the other hand used nap time to prepared our grocery list and organized our coupon book. Everyone woke up and off we headed, all 5 of us to the grocery store. Our trip to the store is a story for another time too because that in itself is full of lots of rights and wrongs. A trip with a two year old, four month old twins and a husband and wife juggling food and babies is a sight to see.

We took 15 minutes after the grocery store to go to the bookstore to let my little girl play with the trains as this is one of her favorite things to do and off we went to head home. It was now 7pm and time for everyone to eat quick, get a bath and go to bed.

Oh, if only that went as smoothly as the rest of the day. Here is where the Diarrhea, Algae, Reflux and Blueberries all begin! 
We came home and before we could even walk into the house we could smell the stench of diarrhea! Where was it? Where did it come from? It covered the whole house. We knew it was there but hadn't found it, until we walked into my daughters room and covered on her beautiful floral pink rug was a very large pile of doggy diarrhea.

​It didn't stop there, it trailed off her beautiful floral pink run onto the carpet. It appeared we had a sick dog and a big mess to clean up. I put the babies down and went to unload groceries, which my husband had already beat me to it. So I decided I'd feed the babies and then clean the poop. They didn't want to eat and I couldn't stand the smell. I got the gloves and started to clean. I dragged the rug outside and sprayed down her carpet, scrubbed and vacuumed.  The mister had put all the groceries away and started to cook dinner, babies seemed happy enough and everything seemed fine so I headed outside to clean the rug. I got the hose and scrubbed it with cleaner and used the hose as a pressure washer.
​

As I was outside I noticed my daughters kiddie pool was filled with green water because it had been sitting out there for days unused and algae was growing covering the entire bottom of the plastic blow up pool. So I thought, while I have the hose out I'll clean this out too. I started picking up the toys in the yard, dumped the water out and came inside for the bleach. I noticed my husband was still cooking dinner and now he was holding one of the twins while he did it. My two year old looked happy as she ate some turkey and cheese and fruit and the other twin seemed content, so I headed back outside with the bleach for the kiddie pool and said, "I'll be just another minute." I sprayed the pool out, poured the bleach in and realized I needed a sponge. I had already finished cleaning the rug and it was hanging to dry. I came in for the sponge and noticed that the mister was still cooking dinner, but this time he was carrying two babies who didn't look so happy and my toddler was sitting at the table complaining about her food. I was just about to say, "I'll be just another minute", when I got that look from my husband that said, "if you go back out that door, I will..." not sure what came after that but the look was bad so what followed would've been bad too.
​

I decided not to finish what I was doing. I took one baby, offered to take both, but he just gave me one. Went outside to turn the hose off, and came back in. Dinner was on the table. Oops. I don't think anyone was happy. All my husband said was "I'm not you and you're are not me". I took this to mean that he can't cook a meal while watching three babies and I can't clean dog poop as well as him without getting distracted. I was really hoping he didn't now I was doing 10 other things outside, but guess he did. So we sat and ate dinner.
And this is where the blueberry comes in. As we sat and ate dinner, my 2 year old swallowed a blueberry whole. And yes, it got stuck. We panicked, I almost dropped a baby as I stood up to figure out what to do. And in just a few moments it felt like an eternity had passed. She stuck her own hands down her throat and coughed up a whole blueberry.

​The poop, the algae, the roll-reversal, the crying babies, the gym, the bookstore, nothing, nothing mattered at that moment. We were all scared.
At this time my stress level had risen. No one would know it, not even me because when I am stressed I appear extra calm. I went to feed the babies to put them to bed and forgot to give my son his reflux medicine until after I fed him. This doesn't happen much, but when it does it's a bad beginning to the night. He can't settle, he cries more and longer and can't get comfortable. Not only were we up all night with sad babies, hungry babies, but also with a dog who was constantly pacing and whimpering to go outside. If we had a fenced yard he would've stayed outside, but each time we had to get up and take him out, get up and feed a baby, get up and rock a baby.


​But you know what, I'd do it all again. I was just happy by little girl didn't choke on a blueberry.
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TO SPANK OR NOT TO SPANK!

12/10/2015

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* This post was written May 14, 2011*
To spank or not to spank, that is the question. Well, not really a question for me. I always assumed I would spank. I got spanked as kid, my husband, bless his soul got beat. We will not be beating our children, but spanking when deserved is a fair punishment, of course, with a conversation to follow as to why you got spanked.
Because right now the twins are newborns and my 2 year old is really just a good child.  Time out  has been enough of a punishment to get her to obey. It seemed to be working just fine...until recently when she told me she knew she wasn't supposed to do something and wanted me to put her in time out. 

And when your kid is asking to go into time out maybe it is time for a new punishment!


But really, I had not given it much thought. I still put her in time out even though she sat there with a smile on her face and when I told her she could get off the chair or that she could stop starring at the wall, she would decide she wanted to stay in time out longer.

How could I complain with that tactic? She really could stay there as long as she wanted because it gave this momma a little longer of a break!  

The thing is I've lately been trying to make an extra effort to spend time with my 2 year old. I want to play hands on with her while the babies are sleeping or keeping each other entertained.

Since the babies have been born she spends a lot of time sitting on the couch with me watching me feed babies, burp babies, change babies diapers and rock babies. She behaves well and usually nurses her babies next to me, keeps herself entertained with toys or my phone or she ends up helping me with the babies, like fetching a burp cloth, holding a bottle up or something that is about them and not her. 

So in my extra efforts to try and do activities with her, focused around her, that are hands on, I thought it would be fun to make Easter cards for the grandparents.

We got out the paint and the paper and went to town. She giggled and laughed and it was great...it was great until she was done.

When a child is done, specifically a two year old it is easy to tell. Her concentration was completely lost from painting on the paper and had moved to painting her hands and her face. This is my grand old sign that she was now finished with our intentional hands on activity.  She was now done and bored with my project.

 So I let her get down while I finished cutting out some bunnies from her paintings.

I was very focused on what I was doing and understand, I had an agenda! I was trying to get this hands-on-intentional-project finished up before the babies woke up from their nap. Because once they were awake they would once again take all my attention and leave my two year old to entertain herself. 

Each time I looked up from the task that I was doing she was pulling on the blinds to the window and shaking. She was thrilled with the loud noise they made each time the wood blind hit the windows. She was listening and fascinated. 

But I was annoyed and immediately asked her to stop rattling the blinds. Didn't she know? She was going to wake up the babies with that noise and then this special time I had set aside to spend with her hands on was going to end sooner than we both wanted!  


As she looked at me with those two year old eyes that said "yeah, what are you going to do if I rattle these blinds again? Put me in time out? hahahahaha", and with that look, she did it again.
And very calmly I tried to explain to her that I was going to finish cutting out the bunnies she painted for her grandparents and how this was our special time together and begged her ever so calmly to reason with me and not rattle the blinds again.
And I got the same look again. "whatcha gonna do about it" and again it happened, the blinds got rattled. 
But they weren't the only thing that got rattled. Without even thinking I jumped up, grabbed her arm away from the blinds and smacked her right on the butt.
And I looked at her with those mommy eyes that say, "yeah take that!"  
Oh no! Her poor little face looked right at me and got all crinkled up and tears started to come streaming down her face but no noises came out of her and it was TERRIBLE! Then... it came, that long soft little cry came oozing out straight from her little passionate and soft heart. OHHHH it was terrible. I had never ever smacked her on the bottom before. She didn't even see if coming.
She didn't even see it coming and honestly, neither did I! It is the first time I spanked my child and I did it as a total reaction without giving it any thought. OHHHH the guilt poured right over me.

I scooped her little shocked body up into my arms and sat her down in my lap on the rocking chair. She faced me and I looked at her dead in the eyes and said,

"I am so sorry I smacked your bottom without warning you, but you were not listening to me and I got angry. I should've warned you first that I was going to spank you and for that I am sorry. However, it does not get you off the hook, you owe me an apology as well for not listening to me after I gave you several warnings."

I hugged her sobbing little body until she calmed down enough to say "I sorry momma".

And while I really had not given a lot of thought to spanking or not I guess I am now a "spanker". I'm that mom who is going to spank. I've opened the door after a year of motherhood to a world of spanking. I hadn't planned it or given it a lot of thought.

But we are entering the terrible two's and the jealousy of twins is certainly a distraction from her good behavior I will have to be aware of. 

I will have to learn my rookie mistakes of spanking out of emotion and reaction rather than being in control of myself and my child. It won't belong before I have two two year olds and a three year old.

Going forward time-outs will of course be our go-to punishment, but I am relieved in some strange way to have a new form of discipline that can be used when needed. 

SPANK!

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Playing can be Hard

10/21/2015

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Moms of one only child, I commend you! While it is undoubtably hard work being the mother of four young children I can only imagine the work that goes into having just one child! I'm not at all kidding or trying to be facetious!

I had only one child once...and while it was for less than two years....I do remember it being hard then. Of course I was juggling working full time and being a new mommy, but it was hard. It was like having two full time jobs because this little 6 lb bundle sucked the like out of me, needed me constantly and as demanding and selfish as she was all I wanted was to be around her. I enjoyed my breaks from her when I was working but I felt the mommy guilt that I wasn't giving her enough of my time. So much guilt.

And now on Wednesdays I again have just one child. My youngest is home alone with me from 8am until we pick the big kids up from school at 3:30...and while he is so easy when it's just him alone in some ways, he is still so much work! Almost more work than when all four kids are home because he's got no one there but me.

"Play with me mommy!" He says all day long. "Read to me mommy" he says all day long. "Hold me mommy" he says all day long.

And so we play. Me and my little buddy. And I do what is almost the hardest thing for me to do...I put laundry aside, kitchen duty aside, chores aside, I put myself aside and I play. And sometimes I remember how much joy their is in playing with your own children. It's a lot of work. But it's a lot of fun if you make the effort. You have to be intentional about it or else you'll never know. You have to do the hard work and put yourself aside.


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Having more than one child I just tell them constantly to "go play together" or "I'm busy, you need to go play with your brothers and sisters".

They don't need me to play with them, they only need me to care for them...but that's a lie!

Who knew playing was so hard? But as a mother it is! Setting aside your own to-do list. Setting aside your wants and needs to spend uninterrupted time with your child can be hard!

Moms, let's unite and make playing less hard. Let's strip off the stigmas that moms can't be silly and play with our child...or two...or three...or four of them...and let's take time to play.
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    Author

    I am a  mother of 4 small children. I am happiest when I am busiest and if the kids don't keep me busy enough I need projects to fill my days.  I love Jesus and I love my family and I love the chaos around me for it brings the calm.

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