Saturday, March 29, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
No unicow for mommy
I don't know what a unicow is, and now I won't get to find out (it must be a cow with a horn, right?). After the Easter Egg hunt, I was too tired to do anything else but go for a quiet walk, and Oliver and Max agreed. Did I mention James took Wesley to New York yesterday? It's a whole lot of firsts: Wesley's first trip with daddy, and his first St. Patrick's Day parade, first holiday meal at an irish family's home, first Easter egg hunt.
Oliver's first Easter Egg hunt was hilarious. It was all urban - the Harrisburg city-wide easter egg hunt, and it was shoulder-to-shoulder people, all trying to get more free stuff for their kids than the other families. Super wild, busy, crowded, and grabby. Oliver got his face painted for the first time, and enjoyed it. He didn't participate in the Easter Egg hunt, which was about 100 toddlers and 200 adults on hands and knees, pushing each other out of the way for boxes of hot tamales and junior mints. I had Max in a backpack, so I couldn't get down into the fray. Oliver shook his finger at everyone and said, "No no!" I realized that that sort of behavior - grabbing candy and/or shoving others - always earns a 'no no.'
The best part of the morning was Oliver riding a pony. I asked the woman behind me in line, "Is it OK to put a 2-year-old on a horse?" She said it was, so I did, and he loved it! He just held onto the saddle and trotted away from me, with the animal's tender holding onto his sweater.
A very quiet walk around Messiah's woods later in the afternoon was the perfect counterpart to the morning. The Kid's Fun Fair, and also the circus, will be there for us next year. I'm really getting into public family events - I keep lists of library story times, events with petting zoos or firetrucks, and local fairs. It feels good to socialize my kids with those kinds of things - showing them what public life is, and how they can participate in their society.
Oliver's first Easter Egg hunt was hilarious. It was all urban - the Harrisburg city-wide easter egg hunt, and it was shoulder-to-shoulder people, all trying to get more free stuff for their kids than the other families. Super wild, busy, crowded, and grabby. Oliver got his face painted for the first time, and enjoyed it. He didn't participate in the Easter Egg hunt, which was about 100 toddlers and 200 adults on hands and knees, pushing each other out of the way for boxes of hot tamales and junior mints. I had Max in a backpack, so I couldn't get down into the fray. Oliver shook his finger at everyone and said, "No no!" I realized that that sort of behavior - grabbing candy and/or shoving others - always earns a 'no no.'
The best part of the morning was Oliver riding a pony. I asked the woman behind me in line, "Is it OK to put a 2-year-old on a horse?" She said it was, so I did, and he loved it! He just held onto the saddle and trotted away from me, with the animal's tender holding onto his sweater.
A very quiet walk around Messiah's woods later in the afternoon was the perfect counterpart to the morning. The Kid's Fun Fair, and also the circus, will be there for us next year. I'm really getting into public family events - I keep lists of library story times, events with petting zoos or firetrucks, and local fairs. It feels good to socialize my kids with those kinds of things - showing them what public life is, and how they can participate in their society.
Friday, March 14, 2008
All Day Family Fun in Harrisburg
Am I a bad mother for considering overexciting my children just because I want to see a unicow? We have to go to the Harrisburg City Easter Egg Hunt tomorrow morning, where there will be clowns, an Easter bunny, facepainting, and easter eggs. Can't miss it. That will be very, very exciting, and we'll come home crying for naps (myself included, most likely). But then the Kid's Fun Fair and Awesome Traveling Zoo is also tomorrow, and we could go in the afternoon after naps. They don't always do well with two outings in a day. But the Kid's Fun Fair has elephants, camels, llamas, zebras, emus, and a "real monkey farm." And a zebu. And a unicow. I really, really want to go.
Our Five-Point Calvinist Ride Home From the Park
Total Depravity: Oliver and Wesley are strapped into their side-by-side car seats in the back of the van. Oliver takes off his boot and swings it by the strap, hitting Wesley in the face with the boot. He realizes Wesley has no boot or other means of retaliation, and can't reach Oliver to hit back or defend himself. He realizes mommy can't reach to the back of the van while driving. In a precious interlude of total freedom without consequences, he swings and swings.
Unconditional Election: Our family is Arminianist, so we don't know whether or not Oliver is a member of the elect. The situation takes on potentially dire eternal consequences.
Limited Atonement: Our family may be Arminianist, but we really love Oliver, so we're going to believe he deserves restoration. Atonement is not as free as grace, however -- righting the scales requires some harsh words and a time-out.
Irresistible grace: Wesley and I are willing to forgive Oliver, especially after he cries bitterly in time-out.
Perserverance of the saints: We all hugged each other and moved on with the day: Wesley with a welted forehead, Oliver with red, blotchy eyes, and mommy with a pair of toddler boots hidden away in her bag.
Unconditional Election: Our family is Arminianist, so we don't know whether or not Oliver is a member of the elect. The situation takes on potentially dire eternal consequences.
Limited Atonement: Our family may be Arminianist, but we really love Oliver, so we're going to believe he deserves restoration. Atonement is not as free as grace, however -- righting the scales requires some harsh words and a time-out.
Irresistible grace: Wesley and I are willing to forgive Oliver, especially after he cries bitterly in time-out.
Perserverance of the saints: We all hugged each other and moved on with the day: Wesley with a welted forehead, Oliver with red, blotchy eyes, and mommy with a pair of toddler boots hidden away in her bag.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Redemption
We haven't returned to Library A -- I'm not sure the stink we left last time has aired out yet. Yesterday we tried story time at Library B, and it was fantastic. Max crawled right up to the librarian and sat at her feet, watching the book. Oliver counted along with the numbers in the story and praised himself, "One, two, three, four! Good boy Oliver!" Wesley, for the first time I've ever observed, followed along with an action song. He beamed with pride of accompishment, and somersaulted to celebrate. All of the children turned in their name tags at story's end, and the librarian held up Oliver and Wesley's name tags and said, "Look! The only two children who chewed their name tags did so in exactly the same pattern!" Everyone smiled, and I said, "That's twins for you."
Then we played quietly and appropriately for about fifteen minutes by ourselves, and then Wesley had a full-voice, full-body melt-down, so I hurriedly began stuffing six arms into three jackets. A grandma -- seriously, another grandma -- smiled sympathetically and said, "Leaving is always hard, isn't it?" I almost said, "I love you, grandma," but instead said, "Thanks for being understanding. We're doing the best we can."
Wouldn't it be nice if all that goes wrong in life could be made right with such balance?
Then we played quietly and appropriately for about fifteen minutes by ourselves, and then Wesley had a full-voice, full-body melt-down, so I hurriedly began stuffing six arms into three jackets. A grandma -- seriously, another grandma -- smiled sympathetically and said, "Leaving is always hard, isn't it?" I almost said, "I love you, grandma," but instead said, "Thanks for being understanding. We're doing the best we can."
Wouldn't it be nice if all that goes wrong in life could be made right with such balance?
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Motherhood and mercy
I swelled up with the kind of pride that goeth before a fall. Max took the perfect morning nap, the twins were in perfect moods, and we headed off to storytime at the library. Oliver chanted "Story, story" all the way.
Of the nearly 25 kids at storytime, my boys were the worst behaved, by a long shot. Wesley tore up six name tags and started drawing on the carpet with a marker. Oliver took four q-tips from the craft table, shouted "Ears!" and stuck them all in his ears. When I tried to restrain Wesley, he fell to the ground shrieking and kicked a woman in the back. She might have turned around to disapprove, but was unable because she was trying to pry Max's mouth off her baby. So, four minutes after entering the room, our storytime was over. We left the room just as unceremoniously as we had entered.
We went to a corner of the children's library and played by ourselves. We went potty, during which Max got into the toilet up to his elbows while I was trying to help Oliver pee in it, and Wesley poured soap all over the floor. While I cleaned up Max, Wesley and Oliver teamed up to plug the sink with paper towels and make it overflow. While I cleaned that up, Wesley ran behind the circulation desk and drank the librarian's diet Coke.
I took off my mommy hat and put on my anthropologist's pith helmet, and observed other moms. Honestly, no one was really even paying attention to us -- it's every mom for herself out there, and each has a universe of activity for which she is responsible. But grandma? Well, grandma is another story. Grandma and four-year-old Missy approached the library elevator. Oliver dashed ahead of them and pushed the elevator button. Grandma turned her head to face me, but said to him, "Little boys aren't allowed to push that button. Aren't you a busy little boy?" in precisely the tone of voice you might imagine. Then little Missy walked several steps over to me and said, "Don't you know that little boys aren't allowed to push that button?" I said, "Except sometimes mommies say it's OK to push the button. He isn't doing anything wrong."
I think I did a good job defending myself to ... oh, a 4-year-old. But grandma, come on! I've been taking care of THREE LITTLE BOYS for over ONE THOUSAND days and nights, round the clock. You're just out with ONE GIRL for a TWENTY MINUTE story time! I can't defend any of my boys' behaviors, and I really can't even explain why a perfect morning took such a bad turn. What I do know is this: I need grace more than I need the stink eye. Perhaps one overarching spiritual context for motherhood is mercy. At any given moment -- probably every given moment -- mothers need to be either giving mercy to other moms who can't perfectly control their childrens' public presentations of self, or asking mercy for whatever tantrum, act of violence, or breach of privacy their own child has just concocted. So come on, grandma, have a heart.
Of the nearly 25 kids at storytime, my boys were the worst behaved, by a long shot. Wesley tore up six name tags and started drawing on the carpet with a marker. Oliver took four q-tips from the craft table, shouted "Ears!" and stuck them all in his ears. When I tried to restrain Wesley, he fell to the ground shrieking and kicked a woman in the back. She might have turned around to disapprove, but was unable because she was trying to pry Max's mouth off her baby. So, four minutes after entering the room, our storytime was over. We left the room just as unceremoniously as we had entered.
We went to a corner of the children's library and played by ourselves. We went potty, during which Max got into the toilet up to his elbows while I was trying to help Oliver pee in it, and Wesley poured soap all over the floor. While I cleaned up Max, Wesley and Oliver teamed up to plug the sink with paper towels and make it overflow. While I cleaned that up, Wesley ran behind the circulation desk and drank the librarian's diet Coke.
I took off my mommy hat and put on my anthropologist's pith helmet, and observed other moms. Honestly, no one was really even paying attention to us -- it's every mom for herself out there, and each has a universe of activity for which she is responsible. But grandma? Well, grandma is another story. Grandma and four-year-old Missy approached the library elevator. Oliver dashed ahead of them and pushed the elevator button. Grandma turned her head to face me, but said to him, "Little boys aren't allowed to push that button. Aren't you a busy little boy?" in precisely the tone of voice you might imagine. Then little Missy walked several steps over to me and said, "Don't you know that little boys aren't allowed to push that button?" I said, "Except sometimes mommies say it's OK to push the button. He isn't doing anything wrong."
I think I did a good job defending myself to ... oh, a 4-year-old. But grandma, come on! I've been taking care of THREE LITTLE BOYS for over ONE THOUSAND days and nights, round the clock. You're just out with ONE GIRL for a TWENTY MINUTE story time! I can't defend any of my boys' behaviors, and I really can't even explain why a perfect morning took such a bad turn. What I do know is this: I need grace more than I need the stink eye. Perhaps one overarching spiritual context for motherhood is mercy. At any given moment -- probably every given moment -- mothers need to be either giving mercy to other moms who can't perfectly control their childrens' public presentations of self, or asking mercy for whatever tantrum, act of violence, or breach of privacy their own child has just concocted. So come on, grandma, have a heart.
Saturday, March 01, 2008
Bunny Monkey Horsey
This morning we went to the Shriner's Family Expo, a free family extravaganza at which they sell Shrine Circus tickets. It was so many big 'firsts' for the boys: Easter Bunny, being photographed with a stranger costumed as an animal, feeding a horse, meal consisting of popcorn, potato chips, hot dog and cotton candy, being fingerprinted (for child ID program), meeting a clown, seeing a juggler, hearing a jazz band consisting entirely of men over age 70, and being inside a masonic temple. It was as much fun as a real circus would be to more experienced children. I wish we could enjoy the circus this spring, but I think they'd get overwhelmed after about 10 minutes. The Family Expo was fun for an hour or so, and then overstimulation tantrums began. Overall, it was a pretty great outing. Wesley wailed his way to the car, and Oliver reminisced, "Bunny, monkey, horsey, bunny, horsey, bunny..." The day ended as it always does, in the tub, but during his bath Wesley wore the balloon hat made by the clown.
The boys are growing up and it's getting easier to take them out in public. We -- just the twins and I -- went to the public library the other day, and I felt like it was pretty much a success. "They did great," I reported to James, "other than Wesley running away in the elevator, throwing a tantrum, pouring water on himself and having to go shirtless, and being reprimanded by the librarian for flicking lights on and off." Seriously, that's pretty good. They are different kinds of toddlers - Oliver likes to learn the rules, and Wesley likes to explore the boundaries. There are pros and cons to each way of being, and plenty of room in the world for them both.
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