Holding Still

school blues

Being the lame photo-taker that I have become, I do not have an official "first day of school photo" of H. All of us were so excited, we had so much to do, and Lire was SCREAMING, so it got missed. And then the second day I thought, "well, he's still wearing new clothes, I'll take it then," But then I had a little L. attached to my calf, so I forgot again. The third day I finally brought L. along, so there was no screaming or clasping of lower extremities, but there was the need to make sure L. looked as handsome as H. -- he would have no shirking of the hair duty, the shoes, etc. Then I just gave up on the fourth and fifth day. Tomorrow is another day, as Scarlett said, so I will attempt to recreate the first one tomorrow.

Good news is that H. LOVES school and was sad not to be going on Saturday and Sunday. As were Al and I. Honesty aplenty here at Holding Still. It was a whole new world, having one child instead of two. Oh my God. It was slower-paced, calmer, and I found myself having relaxed thoughts as L. and I strolled down Main Street. My mind actually slowed down closer to its former pace.

H. is a much happier boy now that he's in school. We're trying to encourage him to talk in front of other people more. He talks A LOT with us, and his English is developing well, but he is self-conscious in front of peers especially, which we understand. I barely spoke to other children as a kid, and I was a native speaker of English. Apparently, he touches the cheek of classmates when he wants their attention -- the teacher said he was "very affectionate, happy all day, and so sweet." Thank goodness! Sadly, Friday evening and Saturday afternoon he wasn't as sweet, affectionate or happy as described, but I think he had a major come-down from the high of school.

We've been lucky that Alex's cousins have been around this weekend, so H. and L. can play with a gang of kids. Alex and I have commented on occasion that we both had gangs of kids to play with as children, and H. and L. only have this a few months a year. We are in the realm of the playdates here, so hopefully H. will develop friendships in school that will turn into future playtimes. He's just getting comfortable talking with his 7 year old cousin, and the two of them have great fun building choo-choo train tracks, throwing the frisbee, and riding bicycles. Right now they're crabbing at the beach with Alex and Lire.

In general, things are looking up, though with H's Friday and Saturday tempest, I definitely felt like the fall guy. L. acted out and gave me a karate chop to the throat on Saturday, which pushed me into "evil Mommy" mode and eventually into tears and a late night vent to Al. Talking and two doses of Sepi@ (homeopathy) helped a bunch.

We've also had a friend come by at bedtime to get the boys used to the idea of her so someday soon we can go out for dinner. I'm going to make a simple stick-figure book of Mommy and Daddy jumping in the car to go to "Francois'" (not its real name), with this friend staying with them and tucking them into bed. Our next move, in addition, is to have her come by after dinner and stay with the boys while we go for a walk.

We've left the boys with Al's mom and my parents for hours at a time, and with Al's cousins, come to think of it, but we've always been within running/screaming distance. My parents took them in the car to shop at the local farmstand, too. I've got high hopes, though L. isn't going to be convinced easily. I think he knows what's up, because when I asked if he wanted our friend to come again to share bedtime reading he said "No. Yiye no yike it."

Here are some pics from our cousin's lemonade/book sale, since I missed the first day of school photo-op.

*I need a hug, b@#$%!

Al has been away for the past two nights and days -- sigh. It hasn't been nearly as horrible as that first time back in May, but boy am I tired.

H. started off unhappy about the whole thing. This entails whining, holding onto Daddy's legs as he attempts to move about the house, mewing pitifully on the couch. He somehow got himself together, and the first day wasn't too bad. The second day hasn't been terrible, either. But the relentlessness of the testing and defiance is wearing me down. Once again, I applaud single parents -- how, how do they manage?

We've been working with H. on following directions, cooperating with us, and answering us when we speak to him -- we've mentioned to him how important these things will be when he goes to school next week. He's improved considerably, for sure. But then there are those moments. He especially has a hard time wanting to heed my requests, especially when he has to ask permission to do something (leave the yard to go next door, e.g.), or has to stop doing something he likes.

So onto holding time. Earlier this morning I was reading Margaret, who then alluded to this lovely blog. I have the book Holding Time, and still need to finish it, so I read these latest posts and let them simmer as I continued with my day.

We had a lovely afternoon at the cousins' next door, and then all the kids made their way to our house. They wanted to explore and look at books, check out the toys, etc. H. wanted to go back to their house. However, everyone was at our house, and wanted to be there. I told him this, that he had to wait to go back next door, and he could show his cousins all his books and toys. I walked about, helping out various cousins, translating for Lire, who's enunciation is tough to get sometimes. Then I hear yelling from H. Outside. All the kids ignore it and continue to do their thing in our house. I go out to see what's up. H. is standing at the gate, ready to leave, and was shouting to get the other kids' attention. He wasn't saying anything in particular, just shouting. Failing to get anyone's attention (except mine, of course), he decided to go on his own. I repeated that everyone was here, he was going to stay until they were ready to go home, it wouldn't make sense to go back when no one was there, wouldn't you like to show them your room, toys, books, etc.?

Answer? The glare. The scowl. Turning away and heading next door.

Somehow I was able to convince him to come to me (I don't know how, usually he'll hightail it away), I held his hand and we headed inside. I told the other kids that H. and I needed to talk, that he'd be over soon, and that they should go home and wait for him and Lire. That's when H's body stiffened, the pulling and pinching began. I took a deep breath -- I couldn't give in to his behavior, and I had to decide what to do. The other kids sweetly said goodbye, see you soon, and L, H and I were left to our own devices.

I picked him up (he weighs 46 pounds, ouch!), and headed for the futon in the back room, Lire following behind. I held him in a tight hug, rocking and eventually speaking softly to him. Lire conscientiously stayed by us:

"Yiye sad."

"Is it because H. is crying?"

"Yes. Youd."

H. screamed and cried for about 20 minutes. 20 "youd" minutes where I kept wondering, "when do I stop and give up? Not yet. Sigh."

He stopped struggling, and he started hugging me back, still crying. Lire helped me sing E-I-E-I-O (L's choice) to H., and helped me "find H's eyes" (looking for eye contact). This became a silly game which finally got H. to laugh. I asked H. if he wanted me to put him down or keep holding him -- "Hold." I held him for the next 25 minutes or so, rocking, standing up (again, 46 pounds!), kissing and laughing with him and Lire.

Have I mentioned how amazing Lire was during all this -- he never asked to be held, never cried in solidarity or fear (he used to), he just stood by us, trying to help by covering H with a blanket, singing, being Lire. His compassion is something I need to learn from, that's for sure.

Anyway, I'm exhausted, if you can't tell. I'm not sure how the holding time went, really, except that it ended with smiles and hugs, which I know is good. It was just so draining. And we had two more instances of H. not listening/cooperating, with the second resulting in Lire falling backwards onto the slate outside the door and my shouting at H. to NOT LEAVE THE YARD (he was heading for the corn fields he was so upset about knocking L. down). Oh, and he likes Daddy better than me. Because I'm a girl, and he doesn't like girls, especially grown-up girls like me.

But Lire likes me! He shouted it to me as I closed the door tonight at bedtime: "Yiye yike Mommy!" The hug that really made a difference to me was the one Lire gave me at dinner tonight. Spontaneous, loving and much needed.

*My post title alludes to a quote from a friend's preschool student in a school for kids with a lot of emotional /behavioral issues. Never fails to crack me up.

ababa

The last two times we've been with friends, L. has expressed a desire to leave with them. The first time he was especially vociferous, and ready to have a "throw-down," wherein he throws himself upon the ground at the feet of the person, grabbing them somewhere, anywhere. Sometimes this involves him climbing up over my head (from his position in my arms), and trying to climb down my back, or even cast himself off my shoulders.

I turned it into a "game," and hung him by his feet over my back, which he liked. It seemed to distract him from his mission of screaming "Yiye come, Yiye come!"

However, the whole thing embarrassed and disturbed me some. I wasn't embarrassed that he was verging on a tantrum -- please, he's 2 going on 3. I was disturbed because I imagined that these friends were thinking, "Wow, he wants to come home with us. I wonder if they're having trouble attaching?"

I instantly questioned our attachment progress, and felt guilty over sometimes wishing he would just. stop. talking, for the love of Gawd. Do I hold him enough? Am I too strict? Should I play more?

So there's that.

Remember when I talked about interfering less, stepping back? Well, I did ok on this kick for a few days, then started having difficulty shutting my mouth again. I'm doing better, now, with a little help from the Buddha and a therapist. One thing that helps is slouching on the cleaning and general upkeep of our home.

I'm lettin' things go.

For a while it made me tense, but now I seem to care a lot less, and it actually relaxes me. Instead of feeling itchy when I see the layer of dust upon the floor molding, I marvel at how even and thick it is. I spent 5 minutes watching two daddy longlegs working together to capture a mosquito between their webs, anchored strategically in the corners of my little workroom. Watching the ants flow out of the maple syrup bottle is one of the events most enjoyed by our family. L. likes me to carefully put them all onto his placemat so he can count them.

I assume these are not abnormal developments for a stay-at-home mom, so I'm not too concerned. As long as my anxiety level is down, everybody is happier.

One thing I'm enjoying lots lately is our garden. It's right at its end. Many bare stems, dried-out leaves and too-tall grasses. However, amidst the death and neglect are some beautiful colors. Our white hydrangeas look like they've been brushed with pink and green watercolor paint, and the Japanese anemones are devastatingly, delicately beautiful. Throw in a dahlia here and there, along with the forsythia which is turning purple early, and you've got intense loveliness. I'll post a couple photos, but they don't do the flowers justice. Even though our children are boys, they LOVE ababa (flowers), and admire them as much as we do. The first is with a flash, the second without.

big 'air

Just a few pictures and thoughts to keep up with the ol' blog after having been computer-free for (gasp!) three days. The one up top is of my knight in shining armor, Chauncey, playing with one of his favorite toys -- empty seltzer bottle with dried beef liver inserted. Mmmmm.... good.

We and the boys continue apace (pardon my Jane Austen language, but my MIL is visiting), eating, playing, fighting and laughing together. They spent the better part of yesterday morning combing their hair out. H. was able to achieve "long 'air" as he puts it, "like Daddy's." Mmm, nope. Alex has uncommonly spiky hair. When it gets long, it is capable of poking eyes out during a hug. H. once yelped in pain at Daddy's "sharp 'air."

H's hair, on the other hand, is "super-soft," and has grown a lot since he's been home. The photo I'm posting isn't actually from the "big 'air" day, but from another day when he combed it out, so the afro is smaller. Just imagine his hair an inch and a half taller. L's hair is shorter -- he still has finer, baby hair, so he is only able to get the top of his head to be "big."

When September 1st hit, it got autumnal again around here. I'm feeling more ready for fall than before, but still sad to have to say goodbye to my best friend, summer. I've got to get name tags for H's school clothes, another pair of shoes (his feet have grown, AGAIN), and fleece hoodies for the both of them. A generous friend gave us a gift certificate to Hanna @ndersson, and I got them these for winter. The boys look very, very cute in them. Of course, it was 85 degrees when they put the coats on, so they tore them off like they were made of molten lava, but I think they'll appreciate them when it's cold outside.