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Posts Tagged ‘Miss Steph’

May
28

Sisters, Studies and Silly Dinners

Posted in Bits and Pieces, Family, Things We Love

I just finished spending twelve days with my older sister Pam. She flew in from Ohio to watch my children while my husband and I traveled to Denver for a wedding. Although I enjoyed my time away, being able to relax, not wake up at the crack of dawn or worry about what food or mysterious schmutz was collecting on my clothes, I really wanted to be at home with my sister. She is truly my best friend on the planet and I feel totally relaxed when she’s around.

My sister Pam and I. I'm the obviously unhappy one.

It occurred to me that most of my wonderful childhood memories are about her. Of course, I remember my mom nurturing and cleaning and nurturing some more. I remember my dad working, building things and being silly, but my sister was always my rock. I knew I was safe when she was around. If someone teased me (like Jamie, who, after teasing me, morphed into my kindergarten “boyfriend”) she would protect me. If we got in trouble she would always share the blame rather than pointing the finger at me (I was usually the instigator). She always made sure I was safe and happy.

We would spend hours playing everything from dress up to Donnie and Marie roller girls. “Monkees’ Wives” was our absolute favorite game. Not furry monkeys, but the 1960′s pop sensation, The Monkees. She was Davie’s wife (may he rest) and I, always loving the “real musicians” was Mrs. Mike Nesmith.

Although we were entertained by others, the shows we wrote, choreographed and starred in were like no other. The audience would usually consist of family members or neighborhood friends, the content usually performed to the soundtracks of Grease, Xanadu or Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band (the movie with the Bee Gees – not a proud moment, but it was awesome when I was eight).

My sister and I a little older, after I had come to the realization that having an older sister was a good thing.

Pam has always been a caretaker. She was born with the gift of understanding children. She’s like the Pied Piper. Kids flock to her, and because there is a mutual respect, they listen to her.  She has been a preschool teacher for decades and as a mother of three (16, 14 and 8 years old). She is doing an amazing job raising her teenagers, which is a feat in my book. Whenever I need parenting advice, she’s my consulting guru. Here are some parenting tips she has shared with me:

  •  Never be afraid to put yourself in time out. When your children are pushing every button, take a mommy time out. Go to “your office.” Mine is the bathroom. Hers is the closet in her room. Take some breaths and come back our ready to talk.
  • Your children should always think you’re just a little bit nuts. Don’t bust out the crazy mommy voice until you really need the big guns. When the crazy comes out, give them a warning: “Uh oh, I’m getting ready to use the crazy mommy voice…”. Works like a charm.
  • When you’re beat tired, you haven’t been to the grocery store and there’s no way you’re going to go, it’s “silly dinner night”! This can consist of anything, as long as a green vegetable is involved. For instance: broccoli, popcorn and cheese or cereal, cucumber and french fries. The weirder the better.
  • When your children ask “why” over and over again, give them an answer like, “Because we’re French” or, “ Because Abraham Lincoln did”. It usually gives them something to think about, and they stop asking.

I think what Pam has been trying to teach me is this: don’t sweat the small stuff. It’s really easy to do when you start comparing yourself to other parents or to your own parents. Every child is different and there’s no magic formula. Parenting can be scary. Sometimes you have to be willing to drop back and punt.

I recently heard about a study  that proved having a sister makes people happier and more optimistic. Tony Cassidy from the University of Ulster carried out the study, which demonstrated that having a sister helped to promote good mental health. The researchers believe growing up with at least one sister makes people more able to cope with their problems. According to the study, sisters tie loved ones closer together and encourage them to communicate their emotions more effectively.

All grown up, but still rather silly.

This makes perfect sense to me. My sister is always the first person I call when I need advice, have to vent, or have something hilarious to share. Am I happy and more optimistic because I have a sister? I would venture to say yes. I can only hope my son feels the same way when he gets older. Maybe my daughter will give him the same advice my sister gives me: laugh often, drop back and punt when you need to, and don’t sweat the small stuff. Why? Because we’re French!

-posted by Miss Steph, who loves her sister dearly, but doesn’t have a French bone in her body.

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Mar
11

Flying The Not So Kid-Friendly Skies

Posted in Bits and Pieces, Family

Let me start off by saying, I’m not a person who rants about the pitfalls of corporate America and big business. Being a working mom of two, I’m too busy to write angry letters or wait on hold for nine million hours to speak to a supervisor. Not that I’m complacent. I simply stop patronizing businesses that are tyrants. After the most horrific travel experience I’ve ever had, I had to share this story. Parents, read, learn from my mistakes and let’s UNITE!

Last week I took a trip with my two children (Jude 2 and Giana 5 years) from Seattle to Columbus. It was my first time flying with the two kids by myself and granted, I was a little nervous, but was ready to brave it in order to see my family. The airline told me that because our flight was full, they could not  seat us together. I told them that was fine. I would happily sip on a cup of joe and read my paperback (The Hunger Games… People… Amazing, but that’s a whole other blog) while other passengers supervise my 2 and 5 year old. They would have six very unhappy passengers, and I won’t be one of them. That seemed to get their ear, and we were switched to be next to each other.

What I thought our plane trip was going to be like.

I thought that was the end of our worries. After our second flight, after a nine-hour travel day we arrived in Ohio. Considering I needed a sherpa to help us with our carry on bags, we let all the passengers off the plane ahead of us. I sent 5-year old Giana to the door and told her to wait for Jude and me. The flight attendant all but pushed her out on to the noisy dark tarmac and told her to “hurry before they close the doors.” I told this woman she was obviously terrified and to “back off.” I thought that was it. We’re here, with my family, the worst is over. I had no idea how much worse it could get until our return flight.

On the day of our return (2/28), our flight was canceled. I immediately called and was booked on a flight through Denver the next day. It wasn’t until I saw the confirmation email that I realized the agent had booked me on MARCH 29, rather than February 29. Ahh, that pesky leap year. Again I called the airline. I held and I held until a human admitted it was a computer error and rescheduled me for the following day. Again, they could not reserve seats together for us.

My children and I got to the airport, begged passengers to switch seats with us so we could sit together, and were told that our original plane had been given to the D.C. crew, and that our flight was now waiting on repairs. I knew we would miss our connection and the gate agent told me that we would be put on top priority for standby in Denver. I asked him what would happen if we didn’t get on the next flight, and he said we would be rolled over to the following flights and that there were 4 other flights to Seattle that day.

What he neglected to tell me was that 3 of them stopped in San Francisco and we could be kicked off the plane there if there wasn’t room for us. I didn’t find that out until I was already in Denver. I would have stayed another day in Columbus if I knew there was a chance that I would be stranded in the Denver airport with my two small children, limited diapers, and a two year-old with explosive diarrhea for TEN AND A HALF HOURS!

When I finally realized that we weren’t getting on the first standby flight to Seattle. I went back to customer service where I had previously been told that I would be provided a hotel room. Only then did I find out that our luggage had been sent on. With limited diapers and no extra clothes, we had no choice but to rally until the 9:45 flight. By the time we got home we had been up for 22 hours. Did I mention my children are 2 and 5? You can imagine what a nightmare that was.

Giana demonstrating how we are going to fly next time (if there is a next time) - by private plane!

A list of my saving graces:

  1. My daughter (who can be semi-challenging) was amazing. She stepped up and was an incredible helper.
  2. The book Shiny Dinah. I read it a million times and that train never let me down
  3. Our portable DVD player is awesome, as is Yo Gabba Gabba, The Wiggles and various Disney friends.
  4. There was a New Belgian Brewery in Terminal 2. Kids got dinner, Mama got a beer.
  5. The Family Bathroom. We spent so much time in there, I should have set up a cot and put the kids to bed.

List of things I learned:

  1. Pack a million and twelve diapers, 9 gazillion wipes and 90 changes of clothes.
  2. When you realize there is a possibility you can be stranded, have the airline pull your luggage while you wait.
  3. Call the airline you’re flying. Ask if they are kid-friendly and what that means to them.
  4. Two words… Road trip.

Here is a  New York Times article on this very subject. I know I’m not the only parent that has gone through something like this. I understand airlines are businesses that cater to several different types of customers. I get it. What I don’t get is, why offer a service to parents and then leave us in the dust? Have one family-friendly flight a day. That way, passengers who don’t want kicking and screaming can choose a different flight and parents can commiserate, even help each other.  Those could be the flights with the nice flight attendants who actually like children and everyone would be happy.

The solution: Studio3Airlines. Kindermusik classes on board. Flight attendants who give hugs and will snuggle your baby while you run to the small bathroom, guaranteed parent/toddler seating and thematic musical lessons to every city you fly to. BRILLIANT!

-posted by Miss Steph, who has become one with the Denver Airport.

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Nov
4

Sharks Love Music, Too

Posted in Bits and Pieces, Child Development

My son Jude should have been a shark for Halloween. He, like a shark, cannot stay in one place for longer than 5 seconds at a time. He is constantly moving. As a mother of two, Giana (5) and Jude (2) I have to say, my boy has taken me to a whole new level of parenting… and fitness.

When I started teaching for Studio3 I was pregnant with my son. I have always had sharks in my class, both boys and girls (there is no gender bias for being a shark). I saw caregivers running after them, fretting that they were not participating in class. I always told them the same thing, “Let them move. They are learning what they need to learn, how they need to learn.”

I also pontificated about Howard Gardner’s theory of multiple intelligences. I had devoted a good portion of my thesis in graduate school to his theory that human beings have nine different kinds of intelligence reflecting different ways of interacting with the world. This results in the need for different modalities of learning. I assured them that their children are kinesthetic learners who need to move to absorb information. It was easy for me to say. I had seen it in my classroom for years while teaching other people’s children. It wasn’t my child. I couldn’t empathize. Then, Jude came along…

At first, he was his sweet little baby self in Village with Miss Allison. Cooing, drooling, clapping on command, essentially the most darling baby on the planet, right? As a shark, Jude never walked. He crawled and then started running. I couldn’t believe how quickly those little legs could go. I would be sweating bullets just making sure he didn’t launch himself off of our front porch.

We moved him up to Our Time around 17 months. He knew Miss Allison, he LOVED Miss Allison and yet his shark-like qualities could not be reined in by Miss Allison. The other children would be circle dancing their tushies off and Jude would be climbing the cubbies. The other children would dance beautifully with the scarves, while Jude would be opening and closing file cabinets. I felt like he was being disruptive. Why was I bringing him to a class where he wasn’t participating? Was this for him or me?

About the second or third week into Our Time, something very strange happened. We were in the kitchen and Jude started singing. He’s always been super musical, so this wasn’t surprising, but then he started to do something with his hands. He was singing and dancing “Liza Jane”!

As the weeks continued Jude kept showing us what he learned when we got home. He would take sticks and sing the hello song. He would drum and sing “Aiken Drum” with the freeze on the word moon. I wanted to cry with joy (in fact I think I did a couple of times). It was working! My advice worked for my kid too! I felt validated. Dang, I’m smart!

Now my little shark is two. He’s a mover, a shaker and an Our Timer. He still moves around while Miss Allison is teaching, but I know he is learning what he needs to learn, how he needs to learn. Parents of sharks, unite and surrender! Let them move and they will show you what they learn.

-posted by Miss Steph, momma to one shark with ants in his pants who likes to dance.

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Apr
28

A bird. And some compassion. (Perhaps my parenting is working.)

Posted in Family, parenting

It seems lately like I’ve been hearing a chorus of “Mama can I have…?”. Although my daughter’s voice is lovely, I often find myself answering, “Of course you can have that. No one deserves it more than you and when you earn the money to buy it, I think it should be the first thing you get.” In a generation bombarded with multimedia advertising and, frankly, a sense of entitlement I see in  many young people today, I find myself struggling with how to raise compassionate children.

During the holidays this year we chose to not give gifts for the fifth night of Hanukkah and instead donated to Toys for Tots. We’ve also had Giana (my four-year-old) pack up a box of clothes, toys and supplies to send to Haiti. We try to educate her with the fact that there are people in this world that are not as fortunate as she is. I often wonder how much that is actually sinking in.

Source: Wikipedia

Recently, we had a family experience that was a small sign that maybe, just maybe, we’re raising a compassionate child. It was a typical Saturday morning, always a toss up if we’re going to go on a family outing or take care of the list of house projects that seems to be getting longer by the day. 

We decided Jude (our extremely energetic two-year-old) needed some activity to wear himself our. I read about Whirligig, a bouncy house festival at Seattle Center. The minute we mentioned the idea, I thought Giana would bounce out of her skin with excitement. We decided to go for it, and after packing up a suitcase full of snacks, diapers, wipes etc. we finally made it out of the house; an accomplishment in itself!

As we were driving down our street, filled with excitement, there was a thud on our window and we realized a robin had flown into our windshield. We pulled over and I went to check on the poor little bird. She had made it over to a grassy area, but looked completely stunned and was unable to fly. My husband and I didn’t want to freak out our four-year-old so we told her the bird was just stunned, but would be fine. I wasn’t so sure. Was its wing broken? Or neck? 

We figured there was nothing we could do and, not wanting to disappoint our kids, we kept going on our outing. Wrestling with our consciences, Chris and I decided to check if there was a wildlife rescue anywhere in the Seattle area. Sure enough, we found PAWS in Lynnwood that rehabilitates injured and orphaned wildlife.

I called and they told me to bring the robin in. Giana was listening from the backseat and said,” Mama, we have to go back and help the robin.” When I asked her about the bouncy houses she said, “We can go after we help the bird.” Full of pride, we turned the car around and we drove back to rescue our bird.

When we got back to the spot, the bird was gone! There was no sign of foul play (the neighborhood cats have a bad reputation) but there was a nest with happy robins and they all seemed to be all right.

I know, I know (for all you Portlandia fans) we are the “Put a bird on it” family, but I also love that we are that family. I love that my four-year-old could put a little bird’s well being ahead of her own fun. It feels good to have a small validation that our messages of empathy and compassion might actually sinking in. Maybe, just maybe, she does listen to some of the things we say! Hurray!!

-posted by Miss Steph, who wants you to know that for the record, this story not only has a happy ending, it has a musical tie-in. As we were driving back to Seattle Center, Giana starting singing, to the tune of “Surrender” by Cheap Trick, “The bird is alright, the bird is alright, she just was a little hurrrt.” PRIDE, my little compassionate rocker.

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Nov
17

I don’t want to be a Mom today.

Posted in Bits and Pieces, Family, parenting

I have a secret to share. It’s embarrassing and a little shameful, but here goes…. My four year old has been so challenging lately that I have had many days where I have not liked being a parent. There, I said it! Okay, where’s the angry mob?

A very wise man by the name of Jon Stewart described parenthood as “a great way to ruin someone from scratch.” I have had days lately where I feel like that is exactly what I’m doing. Making all the wrong choices, loosing my cool at the drop of a hat. I see all those parents who can stay so calm in the midst of a serious meltdown. They can reason the demons right out of their children. Where, I on the other hand, am pushing my toddler’s stroller with one hand and carrying my four year old in the other arm while she’s kicking, screaming and pitching a fit. Why can’t I be that “Zen mom”?

Trust me, I have read Parenting With Love and Logic. I’ve thumbed through The Spirited Child, but in the heat of the moment all of that “love and logic” becomes “flustered and frustrated”.

According to behaviorist Alfred Adler, the core of each person’s personality is formed by age 5. If this is true, I have a year to get it together or I’m in trouble. I just can see the four year old sass turning into fourteen year old rebellion. Oh no, what if she turns into fourteen year old me?!

Essentially, what I’m saying is – I don’t have the handbook on how not to ruin your children from scratch. What I believe is, it’s okay to have days when you don’t like being a parent. It’s okay to be both envious and little annoyed with those “perfect parents”. We’re human. We learn by making mistakes and failing. The other thing I can say is that laughing often, family dance parties, and really deep breathing have helped me cope with the sass and redirect the “wicked” to the “sweet”.

Also, it’s crucial to remember take care of yourself. You are more than a parent, you are a full person. We all need a recharge sometimes. I took a trip by MYSELF to Chicago a couple weeks ago. It reminded me that I am not just “Mama” I am “Steph”. I gave “Steph” a great big grown-up hug (and a new pair of boots).

-posted by Miss Steph, who reminds herself to laugh often.

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