For the Health of It

I am so proud of myself.

I almost gave in so many times.  But I didn't.  Don't tell Luke about my waffling.

Last night for dinner I made salmon and lime roasted sweet potatoes.  I knew Jack would be exhilarated by this menu choice.  Luke, however, was not a fan.  I knew this going into the dinner showdown.  That's why I only put four bites of salmon on his plate and told him he had to eat all the salmon and only three chunks of sweet potatoes.

He eyed his plate with disdain.  His brows furrowed and the lower lip protruded.  I heard a lot of "hmph's" and exaggerated gulps.  I ignored them all.

Jack gobbled his down and asked for a second and third helping of salmon.  After I cleared our plates and did all the dishes, guess who was still staring down his plate, trying to will it away?  Yep, the same one who eats anything Papa puts in front of him with an enticing, "Try it, it's delicious!"  The one and only who spent hours with Papa in a dingy and ate more than four bites of their plunders.  Last night, I needed my dad's endorsement of this meal.  Things would have probably gone differently.

At 7:50 p.m., with ten minutes to go before bedtime, the goofball had eaten one bite of each.  It didn't quite cut it but I seriously considered ending the standoff and giving in.  Instead, I stood my ground.  I set the kitchen timer for ten minutes and told him if he didn't finish, he would be eating salmon and sweet potatoes for breakfast the next day.  My mother would be so proud.  She introduced me to the dreaded timer.  Because of her, I choked down many a meal and ultimately learned that those healthy meals actually do taste pretty good.  My health conscience is thanking her for not budging.

At 8 o'clock sharp the beep sounded throughout the kitchen and I went to dig out the plastic wrap.  There were tears of course.  Mine were internal, his were not.  Who really wants to eat that for breakfast?  I wouldn't either, but the ground had to be stood upon.

This morning, Tim was packing for his business trip and Luke came in.  His first words were not, "Oh Daddy, I'm going to miss you so much!" nor "Good Morning!"  They were a sullen, "Mommy said I have to eat salmon and potatoes for breakfast."  Tim stifled a laugh and asked for the story.  I think Luke was hoping for an ally in this standoff.  No such luck.

Luke took his time coming downstairs for breakfast.  I silently heated up the leftovers.  He choked down two more bites.  By the time we had to leave for the airport, all the sweet potatoes and one bite of the salmon were left.  Tim encouraged him with a, "Dude, your almost done!  Just a few more bites."  With a reckless surge of hope, Luke shoved the last salmon bite into his mouth.

Did you know that some food expands in your mouth?  I didn't either.  Not until I realized that Luke was talking through chewing his fish cud from the backseat of the car.  Yep, that last bite hadn't made it down yet.  Tim got a fishy kiss goodbye at the airport.

The next stop was the bank.  He didn't get to enjoy the lollipop given out at the drive-through.  His cheek had expanded even more.  The enzymes in his mouth had started breaking down the food for digestion creating a delicious fishy mush.  Mmmmm.

Earlier, I had promised the boys that we could go to the park after we dropped Daddy off at the airport.  This was my attempt to cheer them up and busy myself so I wouldn't have to think about missing Tim.  On the way to the park, I informed Mr. Stubborn that he would have to sit on the park bench until he swallowed his mouthful.  No sense in risking having to use the Heimlich.  It worked.  He swallowed.  Hallelujah!  And no, I didn't find a ball of partially digested salmon mush on the floorboards of the van.

The message must have been clear because there was no complaining as the remaining three bites of sweet potatoes were consumed at lunch time.

Now I realize that this may seem like a pissing contest to you.  To me, it was a victory.  Not for myself, but for Luke.  Hopefully there will be less complaining when he doesn't particularly enjoy the healthy food put in front of him.  I understand that he won't like everything.  He will, however, be exposed to all sorts of healthy, balanced meals and later be able to choose wisely what to put in his body.  He might even be caught grilling up some sort of pink fish and orange veggies.  Who knows.

Luke's adult body and healthy heart can thank me later.  For now, your welcome.

No More Yelling

(I found this on my camera after a particularly trying day)

This is kind of an embarrassing post to write.  I almost didn’t do it, but then the sneaky little reminder in my head told me that confession is a good thing.  We even had a sermon on it last Sunday.  If you want to say goodbye to the sin in your life, confess it.  So here goes.

Today I have a goal:  no yelling.  For me.  At all. 

Before I was a mom, I never pictured myself losing my patience so quickly and letting my frustration escalate into yelling.  “STOP HITTING YOUR BROTHER!”  “YOU ARE INTERRUPTING, AGAIN!”  “YOU DON’T GET THIS STICK ANYMORE BECAUSE YOU POKED YOUR BROTHER IN THE EYE WITH IT!” Now sometimes, these moments of nastiness, aren’t always yelling, in true yelling fashion, but I definitely don’t express them in a kind and loving way.  It’s not right.

My job, my mission in life, is to guide my family in a kind and loving way.  If I’m not patient with them, if I’m yelling at them, I’m not doing my job right.  I’m not doing my job at all.

I can give you all sorts of excuses, but I won’t.  That’s not a solution; it’s a cover-up.

Tim and I talked about it last night.  We have a game plan to reduce the triggers that poke holes in our patience.  We are going to do everything we can to enjoy our time with our boys.  This stage is a fleeting moment, we know.  We are determined to savor it. 

This morning I sat both the boys down, confessed to them, apologized and asked for their forgiveness.  Of course they obliged.  Kids do that.

I’ve already been challenged today.  SOMEONE lost all emotional control when he couldn’t bring his car bin down the stairs.  SOMEONE kicked his brother.  SOMEONE tattle-taled. 

Even though this is a trying stage of our life, I don’t want to waste it by creating an environment of tension.  I want this time when I’m at home with my boys to be positive,  even when one pokes his brother in the eye with a stick.

Patience.

Calm direction.

No more yelling.

Grumble Fest

Today was a hard day.

It rained all day.

Jack got soap in his eyes while in the shower.

Luke seemed to think if he asked me the same question four times, he’d get a different answer.

I accidentally clipped Clementine’s nails above the quick.

Jack bit the dog.

Luke punched Jack in the neck.

I didn’t have any patience available.

Jack requested cottage cheese for lunch, then spit it out all over the floor.

Luke wouldn’t believe me when I told him there was no way that a spider could be inside Jack’s toast.

Jack chased Luke until he cried.

I tried everything I could think of.

Extra knee bending, Bible open time,

Extra encouragement,

Extra motivations,

Explicit expectations,

Consistency on follow-through and time-outs,

Brownies (for me),

Extra hugs and snuggle time,

None of it seemed to work.

Oh well, tomorrow is a new day.

 Peace out Today.

Little Boys' Mother

In my journey of being first Luke's mother, then Jack's, I have been enlightened on the wonders of what it means to be a little boy. Here are some of the things I've learned:

*Modes of transportation are king.
*Whether or not you choose to buy boys guns, they will create them out of anything they find.
*No matter how much you clean, scrub and sanitize their bathroom, it always smells of urine.
*Don't ever put a rug by the toilet, it looks cute, but refer to the bullet above.
*Bodily functions really are funny.
*Empathy, sympathy, cuddles and sweet words are not only relegated to girls.
*Dirty, sweaty and grass stained is the best way to be.
*Everything gets broken. Super glue is my best friend.
*It's never to early to teach them the ways of being a gentlemen (they really do want to open the door for Mommy even though it's a little heavy).
*Daddy knows everything, can fix anything and has super awesome muscles because he is the strongest man in the whole wide world.

My education of being little boys' mother is far from over. What's it like to be a little girl's mother? How about a big boy's mother? Enlighten me.

Hover Mode

Have you ever heard of Helicopter Parenting?  If you haven't, just know it's not a good way to do it.  These parents hover over everything their children do, never letting them fail or figure things out on their own.  These children end up not developing themselves as individuals.

I don't think Tim and I are Helicopter Parents, but I'm pretty sure we have Helicopter Children.  They are constantly hovering over us, touching us and talking our ears off.  Most of the time it's great, they actually want to be around us and they are pretty awesome dudes.  Some times though, I find myself demanding some space.  A few days ago, I just needed a little extra space and told them that they could hang out near me but I didn't want to be touched.  Is that weird?

Jack has this quirky thing that Tim and I love.  If he's near us, which is pretty much always, he is either tugging on our ear, putting his fingers around our nose or rubbing between our knuckles.  When I read to them before nap time I always love the quiet, stillness and Jack's fingers in between my knuckles.

Luke's hovering is more of a verbal one.  When I was pregnant and nursing I made sure I took all my vitamins and fish oil.  Fish oil is supposed to promote brain development, especially focusing on verbal development.  I must have overdosed on that fish oil when Luke was incubating.  Sometimes verbal diarrhea explodes from Luke's mouth.  I don't think he breathes most of the time.  And yes, I do know that the apple definitely doesn't fall far from the tree.  For now though, I'm going to blame it on the fish oil, not my motor mouth.

Most of the time the hovering is endearing.  A few days ago, my patience was at an all time low, so the little helicopters were a little frustrating.  I'm praying for more patience in the future so I can enjoy the ear tugs and dialogue.

Creating Nurturers

The boys have been in the nurturing mode the last few days.  They wrap up baby (Elmo) in a towel and carry him around.  They have perfected the "football hold" and the "delivering pizza hold," no cradle hold yet.  

Yesterday Jack wanted to build a crib for Elmo, so we set out on this construction adventure.  They spent more time building the crib than putting the baby to sleep, but it's a nurturing start!

3 things to notice about this picture:

#1 The baby blankets were stuffed on top of the babies and pretty much smothered.

#2  Jack put Lightening McQueen in with one of the babies for its comfort item.

#3  Luke and Jack are not in this picture because they are busy shooting each other with their Nerf gun.

Encouraging male nurturers has gotta start somewhere right?

Entitlement

Lately, Luke and Jack have been constantly asking for toys that they want to get.  We've been telling them they have to save up their money for it or to put it on their next year's Christmas list.  A few days ago we've been trying to take a different approach because, quite frankly, we're tired of hearing what they want and I have a feeling the boys think they will get whatever they ask for.

I'm not sure if we've made mistakes in the past by getting them what they want or if this is just a new phase and a teachable moment.  Whatever it is, something has to change.  At times we want to get them little gifts but we definitely don't want spoiled kids who grow up to be adults who feel entitled to everything.

Tim has read up on the generation entering the workforce and has experienced many of the situations and attitudes experts have predicted and categorized.  For a lack of better terms, these people are generally spoiled brats.  I'm not saying that all are, but it seems to be a general trend.  Employees feel they are entitled to pay, promotions and benefits and don't want to put any effort to earn or achieve them.

As parents, we want our boys to be in the world but not of it.  Lightening McQueen and Mater are fine gifts but we don't want Luke and Jack to feel they are owed the cars.  I am open to any suggestions you have to offer.

Right now we are trying to remind them that they have some pretty awesome toys.  Instead of listing toys they want, we are asking them to list activities they want to do with us like freeze tag and playing baseball out in the backyard.  Hopefully this will refocus them and they will come to realize that things are not what is to be truly valued.  AND if they really want something, it will have to be earned.