My kids aren’t perfect.  I know that; I get it.  Do I want to pretend they are?  Sometimes! What parent doesn’t?  But in my heart, I know my kids have flaws.

So, when a teacher calls or emails me, I do my VERY BEST to not immediately jump to the idea that my little one could NEVER do anything wrong, and they must be out to get my angel.

BUT, if you take the time to email or call, TELL me what he did wrong?  Don’t allude to him maybe being rude.  Don’t imply that he MIGHT have been talking out of turn.  Because you then tell me to please discuss this with him.

Ok, I can do that, but guess what?  I’m going to get HIS version, and I promise you, HIS version will make him seem ‘not so bad.’  And being the intelligent woman I know I am, I’m going to assume you (you, being the teacher) are not really upset because my son was whispering to his friend to simply ask for a pencil. There had to be more to it, right?

I know that this might seem like I am coming down on teachers. I am NOT trying to do that.  But, despite what some teachers have said on this very forum in the past, THIS parent does want to know when her kids act up, and I would like to know what they did to warrant In School Suspension or Lunch Detention, so that I can deal with it, which in turn will hopefully make your classroom a more desirable place for you to do your job - teach our kids. And I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what my kid did wrong.

Today was a good day. I was thinking that as I drove back into my driveway, and yes I know it’s only noon.  And then the old Ice Cube song popped in my head… anyways…

Took Addi in for his ADHD check-up.  I think we finally have a medication regimen that is working for him. In the past the medication has interfered with his appetite, and he is a VERY picky eater to boot.  Well, he has gained 11 pounds since March!  He was so excited!  (He is happy to gain weight, I am struggling to lose it…) He is starting to fill out, and he is eating better, more open to trying new things.  YEAH!

Hayden has his first ‘test’ today for this school year.  I quizzed him yesterday, Roy quizzed him last night, and I did real quick this morning.  But I told him to just take a deep breath and do his best.  He was excited, and he said he is ready…

Ran to Target today… best store EVER!  I love that some of the more expensive designers do small collections for Target - more affordable and accessible.  This month it was Missoni - famous for it’s bright knitwear… well, our Target had very little!  Very disappointed.  Guess I’m gonna have to look elsewhere - Roy will be thrilled to hear that.  And since most things are sold out online, I hope I can get lucky.

And finally, I was driving home from the store in my big green van, and in front of me was a Prius.  The license plate said:

51MPG&U

I had to hang my head in shame… my big green van gets about 21 on the highway, 15 in town.  But I don’t drive it a lot! We’ll miss our Prius gas mileage, but the replacement sure is nice.

(remembered from May 2008)

It was a lazy Spring day, or rather it should have been. I was rushing around trying to get my grocery shopping done. I remember pushing my cart frantically around Walmart. See, I am under the impression that the longer I am in Walmart (or Target or Costco… just depends on the day of the week), the more money I spend. Therefore if I rush around at breakneck pace, I spend much less - of course that doesn’t bode well for other shoppers, but that’s my mindset. Anyways, here I am with milk, bread, juice, maybe some meat, and who knows what else in tow, waiting for my turn at the register. All the while I am thinking of the 100 things I need to do when I get home. It isn’t often that I get to go to the grocery store by myself, and while I love being able to wander around by myself, I know I need to get home… that to-do list isn’t going to get done by itself. So, I finally get up to the register, put my items on the belt, pay, and go out to pack up my car. Driving home, I turn up the music and sing… loudly. There is no one else in the car to tell me to change the station. No one telling me to be quiet. I sing “Living on a Prayer” just as I imagine Bon Jovi would… if he was a 34 year old housewife that is.

As I pull up to my driveway I see Addi running around the yard. He stops and holds a stick up into the air. He is so still, but his face is beaming. I get out and shut my car door quietly, not wanting to ruin the moment. He stands still for a moment longer, and then starts to spin. His little arms held out and his laughter! It’s loud, and perfect… yes, that is the word that comes to me… Perfect. I feel tears coming to my eyes. Addi has ADHD, and can be a handful. I don’t tell him enough how much I love him. I don’t tell him enough that my world would be less colorful if he wasn’t here.

I lean back on my car and watch for a few more minutes, wanting to run with him, to be free for just a few minutes of the worries of being a mom. And then he sees me and waves.

“Hi mom! Whatcha’ doin’?”

“I just got home. What are YOU doing?” I ask him, hoping he can hear the smile in my voice and the love I have for him in my tone.

“I’m trying to catch a bird, mom! Don’t you see my stick?”

He said it like it should be completely obvious to me, and I had to laugh. Sometimes, the most mundane things, the simplest joys, are the most profound. And how fitting that it takes a child to point that out to us sometimes.

He waved at me once more and ran off… trying to catch a bird.

We are having another little boy! Before I found out the sex of the baby, I worried (as I am sure many people in our situation do) if my disappointment would overshadow the joy of having a baby. Then I chastised myself for thinking that way, but I was trying to be honest with myself. We have four boys, and we were actually looking into adoption to ensure that we would have a little girl, but then we thought…why not roll the dice? Whatever happens, will happen. Laying on that table in the hospital, I KNEW with what I guess they would call “mother’s intuition” that we were going to have another boy, and I knew in my heart that I was ok with that. Instead of awaiting my reaction, I prayed that the baby was ok, and that I was ok as well.

I admit I was curious about my husband’s reaction. Would he be disappointed? He has told me from day one…he just wants me to be ok, he wants a healthy baby, and then we watched our little niece for two weeks. R is two years old, in fact she was born exactly 11 years after our oldest son, C. Seeing R and the boys with a little girl was such a different experience for me. ALL the boys were softer, more careful with her, and seeing R hold her hand or carry her was different than seeing him with the boys. He was also softer. R could be our daughter. My sister and I look so much alike, that I would look at our niece and think IF we had a little girl she MIGHT look like this. Our baby is healthy, and he seems to be happy rolling around in my tummy, but I feel a twinge when I pass all the cute little dresses, and know that I will never take a girl shopping for a prom dress, or a wedding dress, but then I look at my boys and I remember what my husband said to me, “We are pros as boys, honey.”

WHICH leads me to my next topic. I am sure every parent to be has looked at her belly (or their partners belly) and wondered, “Will I be a good parent? Oh god! What if I’m not a good parent!” Babies don’t come with instruction manuals, and when you are exhausted, your breasts hurt from nursing 24/7 and your five month old STILL won’t sleep through the night, you have your doubts. You wonder if you are doing something wrong, or in the words of the writer’s of “Look Who’s Talking” if your baby has some exotic baby disease. And then you feel guilty for thinking it could POSSIBLY have anything to do with the beautiful child in your arms, the entire emotional roller coaster can be nerve racking.

Our 8 year old, A, was diagnosed ADHD. If you know anything about ADHD/ADD you know there isn’t a definitive test for the condition. You answer questions, the child’s teachers answer questions, etc and then someone look at the answers and labels your child. We chose a combination of medication and behavioral therapy, and some days are good, some are great, and some are just plain bad. On the bad days, I blame myself. I wonder if I show A enough affection, if I tell him that I love him often enough. Instead of remembering what an amazing little boy he is, I focus on what he did wrong, and I blame myself for that. I let his actions define me, and to some extent him. Instead of just saying….A had a bad day, let’s move on…I dwell on it, and think a good parent wouldn’t do that.

My husband has a better grip on it. He talks to A, and/or reads the note the teacher sent home. Tells A this is what his consequences are, and moves on….I think an 8 year old boy acting up is a sign that I am failing as a mom. But then, and this often seems to happen at JUST The right time, A will say something or do something, and I will remember what an amazing kid he is. Yes, he can be a challenge, and yes I get frustrated at times, but my life is so much better because he is in it, and for a child to have that kind of effect on someone, he must have a pretty good parent, right?

Our eight year old, A, has ADHD. For a long time, I suspected he could use some more help than we could give him, but felt if I asked for it that I was a failure as a mom. When it came down to it, his success was more important than my ego, so every six weeks he sees his therapist. A likes him, he is a neutral party that listens to whatever issues we are having and is able to assure us that what is going on isn’t our fault.

Last week, I went to pick up our oldest at play practice. As I was pulling up into the house, I see A running around the yard. He looked so sweet and happy…just lost in his own little world. My heart filled with love and laughter at this little boy that I often feel is so frustrating. I got out of the car and watched him for a bit longer….all of a sudden he stopped and held up a small stick. I watched for a minute or so more, and then asked him what he was doing. He turned to me and said:

“Quiet, mom. I am trying to get the birds to land on my stick.”

It was such an innocent idea, so indicative of the type of person he is. I asked him to come inside as it was time for dinner, and he threw down his stick and ran over to give me a hug. This little boy that we worry about, that frustrates us…simply loves his mom and dad. He reminded me to just love him…that the little things he does, aren’t that big a deal in the end.

I told my husband this story while we were lying in bed last night…and when I got to the part about A holding out his stick for the birds, he laughed. A deep, belly laugh… and I KNEW we were on the same page. I KNEW he was picturing our little boy running in the yard with a stick. And I was reminded yet again how much I love this man… how much this man has given me, and how little he has asked in return.