8busyfeet
chasing the dreamArchive for the eight feet...
The confession
Two minutes from the school, I glace at Cole in the rear view mirror. His eyebrows are pinched together. I realize instantly that he is worried about something. I decide to start with the lighthearted approach.
“So Cole, when is the next day that you are going to smile all day? I just want to know so I can put it on my calendar.” The kids do this to me all the time. Out of nowhere, they ask when’s the next time we are going to the zoo, or a water park, or Disney—as if possess a master calendar set up with fun activities– all confirmed dates into the future. They never believe me when I say “I don’t know,” however, I thought Cole would appreciate the attempt to throw it back at him.
He wasn’t amused. I was running out of time so I went with a more direct approach. “Do you want to tell me what is going on?”
“What do you mean.”
“You look upset.”
“I do?”
“Come on Cole, just tell me. I can’t make it better if I don’t know. I got your Poke Man cards back from Truman didn’t I? See I’m full of support….”
“Stop. That’s good Mom, I know.” There is a long pause while I turn into the school parking lot. Then quietly from some far away corner of the car I hear, “I don’t want to go today.”
“What? Why?”
“Because yesterday was the worst day of my entire life, that’s why.”
I want to launch into an explanation about how if he thinks at age eight that he as any clue about the worst day of his life he is sadly mistaken. I want to say that whatever happened yesterday will in no way compare to all the hundreds of days ahead of him when he will face much worse things. What about the day your wife miscarries a baby? The day you find out your father-in-law has a brain tumor? Or when your company lays off three hundred people and you have to sit there wondering if you will be next? My mind fills with examples, but I refrain not because I am a good mom, or because I don’t want to further burden him with things he can’t control, but because we are now in the parking lot and if he doesn’t go in he will be late. I ask, “Okay, what happened yesterday that was so bad.”
“I had to go on the stage for the first time.”
My mind works fast trying to dissect the information and come up with a diagnosis, but I need more information. “The stage?” I ask.
“Yea, now you know and you think I’m the worst kid ever.” Instantly, I realize that the stage is a bad thing – I’m a theatre major, so this was not obvious at first. Also, I realize that he thinks he has confessed something.
“Did you get into trouble? What did you do?” I try not to sound surprised.
“I was S___’s partner in gym, but K___ was upset because if I was S___’s partner then K____ had to go find another partner. I felt bad for K____, but the only person left was M____.”
“Which M____?” I interrupt.
“M___ E___.” My maternal alarm goes off instantly. The M___ E___ kid is… well, he can be kind of a naughty, rule breaking, bully. But he can also has a kind, goofy, sweet side that creates a huge conflict for Cole who can’t just hate him, but can’t just trust him either.
“Are we in gym class?” The location of the stage and the business about getting partners tips me off.
“Yes.” He is frustrated with me, but I’m doing my best.
“Okay, so you were partnered with M___ E___ and what happened next?” At this point there is a story about a ball being given to M___ E___ and a direction to hold the ball being given and, no surprise, that doesn’t happen, but the gym teacher doesn’t remember who he gave the ball to, so they both get sent to sit for the entire gym class on the stage.
He is relieved for only a moment that he has confessed the sin, and then he remembers why he had held so tight to the guilt up until now. “Mom, please don’t make a big deal about it.”
“But it is a big deal. You’re upset. You don’t want to go to school. What kind of teacher gives out a ball and doesn’t remember who he gave it to? Why M___ E___? Was there no one else you could have partnered with?” I breathe and recite in my mind, “I am not going to be that parent. I am not going to be that parent. I am not going to be that parent.”
Still, it’s hard to know that your child has been punished for something that was not his fault.
If he were any other kid in the classroom, he would be upset because he missed gym class, but I know Cole and I understand the problem. A rule has been broken. When you are the smallest guy in the class you live and die by the rules. You trust that the adults are going to create rules, communicate them clearly, and inspired by a judicial gift from God, enforce them flawlessly. Cole believes that if he follows all the rules perfectly he will get through the day safely, peacefully, and with as little negative attention as possible. That is Cole’s #1 rule for life. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work.
“Okay, I won’t make a big deal about it. Just go to school and we will talk about it later.” I am sending my son into the “belly of the beast, the road will be rough, danger at every turn…” (The kids have been watching the Bolt movie excessively). I have no plan. Instead, I kiss Cole good-bye and realize that Anna Mae got bored with the story minutes ago and has already gone in. Cole walks like a snail to the school door, struggles to pull it open, and slides in before it closes behind him.
My friend who also has four kids and shows up about as late as I do each morning sees me. She comes over to offer Truman a ride to his school. I tell her the whole story to which she says, “Wow, that’s bad. Poor Cole. They are going to crush his spirit. What are you going to do?”
“What can I do?” I ask. “The confession took place two second before school started and he made me promise not to make a big deal about it.”
“E-mail the gym teacher.”
“And say what? Don’t make them be partners? Let K____ be partners with M___ E___? She is so tiny and shy M___ E___ would eat her alive.”
“Her mom is weird.” My friend knows this first hand. Truman walks past us and get into her car assuming what will come next. “I’m going to get them to school on time before I get in trouble again. I have five minutes to get over there.”
I smile hesitantly, get back into my car, and drive away from the school for about two minutes when I realize that my eyebrows are pinched together.
outwitted
Grace is standing on a chair that she pushed up to the kitchen counter. She found a bag of Easter Eggs that I had not yet taken back to the basement. She works quietly so that I don’t notice what she is up to. She reaches into the bag carefully choosing an egg. She shakes it, but there is no sound. Undeterred, she slowly twists it open – there is nothing in it. She sighs, drops the egg on the rug and moves on to the next. Again, she finds an egg to shake – no sound – opening it she finds there is nothing in it and the egg is again dropped on the rug. I sit down at my computer watching her – certain that as she continues her work she will not find a thing.
I am quiet — a voyeur as she works her way though each egg. Turning away, I check my e-mail keeping my ear carefully tuned into what she is doing– feeling entertained by her determination and stubborn search for the forbidden candy.
When she is done I again watch as she turns to the mess of plastic pastel egg shells littering the rug. “Oh my” she says imitating the way she has heard the phrase used on a Little Bear cartoon.
The chair is left pushed up to the counter and the bag gently falls to the floor as she walks past where I am sitting.
For a moment I am sad that a child with such spunk would not be rewarded for her disobedience. After all isn’t the birth right of the fourth child to be indulged and spoiled. Shouldn’t I, as her parent, be more relaxed and easy going by now? I begin to soften to the idea of becoming the parent that I thought mine were with my own baby sister.
At that moment I notice that Grace has turned away from me. She is hard at work trying to open a tootsie roll wrapper. Instantly, I am filled with older sister disgust – appalled by the injustice of the baby being rewarded for such naughtiness. Yet, I am unwilling to spoil her fun at having outsmarted her mother.
I imagined it would be sort of like this…
It’s the end of Easter break. The kids have not gone to bed on time in over a week and Anna Mae brought me a book that was too hard for her to read. It was an American Girl book about a girl named Kit who grew up during The Depression. I piled three of the kids into my bed and told them that if we read a chapter every day we would be done by the weekend. That way we could rent the movie and watch it after the soccer games next Saturday.
Truman listened to the first page of the book and began making car noises, “Veroooom, verooom, rrrrrrrk,” and then something that sounded like a crash. I suggested that if he wanted to he could just go to his own bed and play with his Leapster. I meant it as a threat, but he took off running. I was relieved because I didn’t feel like listening to any more noises.
Next to me Anna Mae lay on her back looking at the ceiling while I read. She wanted to be able to look over my shoulder to see if there were words she could read or in case there were any pictures. There was a small illustration of phlox and a joke about spots on phlox that she thought was funny.
I read some more as Cole flipped about at the foot of the bed. It upset me that he couldn’t sit still, I wondered if he was paying attention. I asked him what a typewriter was and he said it was like a computer that you put the paper right in – “no printer needed”. Then he added that he was trying to visualize the story while I read. I decided that I ought to not complain that he was not still because at least he was listening and I did not want to ruin a potentially great parenting moment.
Grace came in and tried to crawl into the bed. I let her slip between Anna Mae and I, but she too could not hold still. I read two more words and then I told her to go find daddy and ask him to read her a book. She crawled over me and headed down stairs. A couple minutes later I could hear Tim’s voice reading Good Night Moon to her. Cole got up to shut the door leaving Tim’s voice muffled enough that it did not distract us.
I finished the first chapter and closed the book. Anna Mae suggested that there had to be more. I showed her that the next page was a new chapter and she made me promise that we would really read again tomorrow. I promised and Cole agreed that it was not so bad for a “girl book.” He took his Magic Tree House book and his timer/bookmark and headed to his room. I asked Anna if she was going to read by herself and she yawned an answer as she rolled over and fell asleep on my pillow. I turned off the light and headed down to the basement in search of all the books I saved to read to my kids someday…
get me outta here!
You know when I have written for awhile that something is going on. So I am sure no one will be surprised to find out that things around here have totally gone off the deep end.
Last weekend Anna Mae woke us up after she got sick in on the couch. She had a cough that kept waking Grace so we had let her sleep on the leather sofa. Then, just after I tucked her back in Tim announced that he did not feel well.
So both Saturday and Sunday were spent with Tim and Anna Mae suffering through what I though was a stomach bug. For a few minutes on Sunday Tim, armed with a lot of Tylenol went over to the grade school with Cole and Truman for the Pinewood Derby race. They received 3rd place for the entire school – Yea!
On Monday the big kids did not have school, so I took Truman to school, Cole hid in the basement, and Grace and I did our best to avoid the sickness taking over our home.
Tuesday I started feeling like we were on the mend. Tim was still sick, but was up and about and Anna also seemed to be through the worst of it. I kept checking with the boys to be sure they were alright and sure enough when I went to bed I though things would just get better.
Around 5 a.m. my hopes were dashed when Truman was found crying outside my room. He was upset because his bed was making him feel so bad. He was burning up, so I gave Anna Mae the boot from the “sick couch” and replaced her with Tru. Anna moved to the big chair where she could rest and play. I said good–bye to Tim and Cole who were headed off to work and school. When I got out of the shower I heard Grace and found her looking all glassy and also suffering with a fever. Anna Mae and I pulled the pack and play out of her closet and brought it down stairs. We decided it would be easier to have everyone in the same place than to be running around dealing with everyone in separate rooms.
At 3:30 p.m. Tim called to tell me that he would be home early as he did not feel well. Cole came in off the bus and hid in the basement for the rest of the night. I left Truman and Grace in the Living room, made dinner, fed Cole and Anna Mae, cleaned up, and at 6 p.m. called to find out where the heck he was. Still at the office was the short answer.
When he got home I should have realized something was up because he was on the computer all evening. By 9 p.m. all the requests for juice had been filled. Tylenol was fully administered. Cole’s homework was done and I had decided Anna was ready to go back to school.
This morning I woke up to Cole’s crying. He was lying on the steps burning up with a fever. I instantly decided that Anna was going to pay her dues and stay home to help me. Besides Tim had rushed back into life and he did not look so good when last I saw him. I called the grade school and the pre-school and made sure no one expected us to be anywhere today. I got Tru juice and re-tucked him into his “sick love seat.” Cole took over the couch with his own pillow, blanket, and bucket. Anna Mae is milking her sick days for all they are worth sipping juice and eating crackers from the love seat and Grace is not at all happy, but willing to be stuck in the pack and play.
Tim is upstairs unable to even roll over as he grumbles about how sick he is. Evidently he thought he would get enough done last night to be able to take another sick day this week. It sounds like most of his department is out with something that sounds like what we have… except his boss who is out with a kidney stone. If I had to choose I guess I would take this, however if Tim had a kidney stone at least it would not be contagious… sorry that’s not very nice…
So after I finish blogging I am going to start planning my spa vacation… if I don’t wake up puking or crying on the steps with a fever – I plan to make a run for it! Wish me luck!
Do you really want to read this? I promise to get in a better mood soon…
We were sitting at the table writing Valentines when Cole and Anna Mae told me the felt as if they live in a giant snow globe.
Anna Mae is currently crying because her fingers hurt too much to keep writing her name on the Valentines. It occures to me that the grouchy feeling of “giving up” could be due to the weather. She is going to “take a stink’in break.” That’s the spirit of love and sweetness Anna – Not! Ugh!
Another thought from today… every morning I rush around like mad trying to get the kids to school on time. This gets more and more difficult as the winter drags on. Show boots and mittens and warming the car have all lost their novelity and at some point this morning I began thinking about what would happen if we were late… the kids would get a tardy slip – then what? I couldn’t come up with anything else either – so I decided to slow down. We coasted in right before the last bell and in the end I was a better mom because of it. So there you go – I may never be on time again.
At noon today I watched the news and the nice weatherman said the snow was ending and it would be clear by early afternoon. It’s 5:00 p.m. and they just called off my book study for the third week due to snow. I’m tempted to keep my sitter and go buy diapers all my myself…
Grace took the time to throw all her food off her highchair tray so that before I get a chance to clean it up she can eat it off the floor – nice…
Truman is busy with his new birthday toys. I havn’t seen him all day.
Honestly, I can take no more…
That’s it… DANCE PARTY! Truman turn on ABBA, Cole get the dish towels to swing over your head, and Anna Mae dry your eyes – if we are all going to lose it - at least we can laugh at ourselves on the way :)
Scripture quote for the day…
Whenever we have huge weather events there is a certain segment of the population that will claim it’s a sign from God – While I was out shoveling yesterday, (yes, I broke down and decided to help) like a gift from the Father himself the most comforting quote went through my mind. I really think it sums-up my feelings about the day.
I am going to teach it to my kids today as a memory verse while they are away from school (on their fifth snow day for the year). That’s right an involved parent taking an active roll in the spiritual education of her children even on a snow day… It’s going to go something like this…. Theresa: This city is headed for a disaster of biblical proportions.
Truman: What do you mean, “biblical”?
Cole: What she means is Old Testament, Mr. Truman, real wrath-of-God type stuff.
Theresa: Exactly.
Anna : Fire and brimstone coming down from the skies. Rivers and seas boiling.
Cole: Forty years of darkness. Earthquakes, volcanoes…
Anna: The dead rising from the grave.
Theresa: Human sacrifice, dogs and cats living together – mass hysteria.
You’re laughing because you know I just might do it… Extra point for anyone who can name that movie!
bloody mary, joy, and the toothpaste
At my church book study we were talking about joy and what it means to each of us… I tried to explain that to me joy was paying attention to the moments in my life that go something like this…
I was finishing something on the computer and had a momentary glitch – “shoot, shoot, shoot,” I said to myself in frustration. Tru came running… “What mom? What do you want me to shoot?”
Ten minutes later Anna Mae and Cole walked in the door and frantically told me that “bloody mary” could be seen in the bathroom. Anna explained that you have to turn out the lights, stand in front of the mirror, turn in circles seven times, and “bloody mary” will appear in the mirror.
The next half hour was spent with Cole, Tru, and Anna in the bathroom trying out the story that they must have heard on the bus. When “mary” did not show-up Cole walked out grumbling that the kids in Anna’s class have too much imagination. Tru somehow got toothpaste all over his t-shirt? And Anna came to tell me that it was not going well.
“She must be busy ‘cuz lots of people were going to try it when they got home today. You know she was just a girl riding a roller coaster and she fell off and landed on a mirror and that’s why you can find her in the mirror – did you know that Mom?” Honestly, I think I did hear about “bloody mary” when I was in grade school, but the roller coaster sounds a little Anna’esk to me…
I was picking up the kitchen last night – the compost pile of papers that had been in a stack so long that they no longer had any value needed to be removed from my counter. Cole was waiting for me to come up stairs to read with him when we uncovered a little framed photo of my parents. Mom had given us each one recently and it I just had not found a place to put it yet. Cole decided that the bathroom would be the best place since I have a photo collage on the wall in there.
This morning when I sent Tru in to brush his teeth he came out yelling “Grandma is in the bathroom, I saw her, I did!”
Anna went in yelling, “Is she in the mirror like “bloody mary?”
“No,” Tru called, “But she is going to get full of tooth paste if she stays in there.” I was laughing to myself when Tru disappeared upstairs.
Later this morning I was running around the house finishing the morning clean-up when I noticed the photo of Mom and Dad was on the little table next to Tru’s bed. He must have taken it up there after he found it this morning.
I am finally reading the latest Harry Potter book where portraits come alive, talk, and interact, so I have to admit that I thought to myself, “well this is good now, Mom and Dad can watch Tru sleep and not have to worry about being attacked by “bloody mary” or being covered toothpaste. And then, more realistically I knew that it was really just a moment to notice another goofy moment of Joy…
gotta give him credit…
This morning I was listening to 620 WTMJ to hear all the Packer coverage. John Jagler and Gene Mueller were talking about all the things fans had done to help the team win… I could not resist sharing my own example and sent the following e-mail… My Mom will be so proud 
…
John-Friday my 1st grader came home with a medal from St. Anthony the patron saint of miracles. He goes to a Catholic school and received it as an award. When he showed it to me he had a really serious expression on his face and asked what it was all about. I told him that St. Anthony is who you ask for help from when you lose something or you need something to work out a certain way. I explained that St. Anthony has helped me find car keys, gotten my computer to work right before a paper was due in school, and recently helped his Grandma find a diamond earring. He seemed skeptical.
I had to run to the Grocery store just before the game on Saturday and ended up listening to kick off on my way home on the radio. As I walked into the house they had just spotted the 14 points. Cole came to the door to tell me what was happening and I suggested with a nervous laugh that it was a good time to say that prayer to St. Anthony. By the time I unloaded the car they had scored and it went from there. At the end of the game we were all excited, but especially Cole who at taken me seriously and held onto his medal the whole time.
By yesterday he was not only – not skeptical – but was actually explaining to my kindergartener, Anna, that they had to pray to St. Anthony again to make sure New York wins – I had to smile when I overheard the conversation. I’m not sure it is an appropriate use of prayers, but who can argue with the new deeper faith of a first grader –
Go Pack -
Theresa
one to remember…
At dinner tonight Tim did something or another to make Cole happy and Cole paid Tim the untimate in compliments… he said, and I quote… “Dad, your like the hot dog in a sausage race.” I’m not even sure what could be better than that…
easy on the ears…
“I have to yell because if I don’t yell nobody listens to me!”
I know, I know – I was NEVER going to say this stuff to my kids, but alas I have become that mother I swore I never would be. The irony is that as I got out of bed today I actually was praying that the morning routine would go well and I would not have to run around like a crazy woman. The prayer was prompted because that’s exactly the method used to get them into bed last night.
Tim is traveling for work and it is at these times that I realize just how important he is for the evening routine. I am such a morning person that by 7pm I am on auto pilot and nothing else of much good is going to get done. So last night when soccer was rained out and I realized that I didn’t have to take the entire tribe to practice by myself I was both relieved and worried. Sure we could all put on our pjs and catch up on the book reports and other homework that is due each week, but these kids were going to be hungry and I had promised McDonalds at the soccer field.
We did get take out and as they finished their homework and found “Dancing with the Stars” on TV I made them promise that they would go to bed immediately when I said it was time. Of course that’s not exactly how it went and by the time Tim called to check in I was fried.
Yes, but today was going to be a new day – a chance to make it all better and I was going to be filled with positive energy and the ability to charm them into a perfect morning. Now, all I can remember is what Cole was telling us he learned at church last week in the Children’s Homily. The priest said that when you pray to improve yourself in someway, God gives you lots of opportunities to get better at it. When I told him that I pray all the time that I don’t yell so much he answered, “Yup the priest is right you sure are getting lots of chances to work on that Mom.” And then he added, “Pretty soon you start getting good at not yelling, because it’s a lot for us to listen to while you practice.”
