Teenager

As of yesterday, I am officially the mother of a teenager. I feel like I should be afraid. Like I should be bracing myself. These are the scary years, right? The years filled with push/pull and testing boundaries and rebellion. Important years that must be navigated carefully. Years that will define my future relationship with my son.

But strangely, I don't feel afraid. I feel blessed. I realize that there will be push and pull, and boundary testing, and maybe a bit of rebellion. But Connor is an awesome kid. He is honest and trustworthy and really wants to do the right thing. I am not naive enough to think there will never be issues we'll have to struggle through together. We already have, and he and I are far too much alike to go through life without butting heads. Homework time this afternoon was a perfect example. His stress level and mine rose to the breaking point, and we both needed a cooling off period before we could accomplish what needed to get done. But it did get done. We survived. Sometimes Chris looks at Connor and I and shakes his head. We are two sides of the same coin, and we drive each other crazy, but we always come out the other side ready to share a hug. I hope that doesn't change as my teenager grows older and "cooler". I don't think it will.

Connor has always been a homebody. He never wanted to go to camp (much to his dad's dismay), and until the last year or so he hasn't even been big on sleepovers. He likes to be in his own bed and night, with Mom and Dad not too far away. Two weeks ago he went to his first youth retreat, a winter weekend in Muskoka with the church youth group. He was super-excited, and a little nervous, but only someone who knows him as well as I do would realize it. I was really nervous. I was more worried about a fiery bus crash on snowy roads than anything else. I just wanted my boy safe at home, and by 6:00 Sunday night he was, with a big smile on his face. I am so glad his first "away from home" was a good experience, a great experience. It was good for both of us, good for him to get away, and good for me to let him go. I know it will be happening more and more.

This weekend, however, on his birthday, Connor was content to spend the day hanging out at home with his family. We had a big family breakfast, opened some presents, had Connor's favourite (tacos) for dinner, and then he stayed home and babysat his sister while Chris and I went out in the evening. His biggest event of the day was joining Facebook. He's still a homebody at heart.

Connor is a teenager. He is three inches taller than I am, and is quickly gaining on his dad. The years of driving and dating and leaving home are not that far away. We are entering a new stage of life together, and there will be challenges for our family. But in general, I couldn't be more grateful for the kid that Connor is. He has a generous heart and a great attitude. He is compassionate and kind, a good friend and wonderful brother. He is a teenager, but deep inside he's still my little boy. I hope part of him always will be.

Brokenhearted Basketball Player

Connor loves basketball. He has loved it since he was a tiny boy shooting hoops with dad and his Little Tikes basketball net. He started playing in the YMCA youth league in Fredericton in grade one, and last year he played on his first competitive team. He loved every minute of it, right up to the heartbreaking finish at the OBA tournament in March.

Try-outs for this year's team were last week. He spent Monday and Thursday evenings running drills and shooting hoops with his buddies, most of whom were on his team last year. He came home exhausted each night, but excited about the prospects for the coming year. Chris and I worried a bit about whether or not he is ready for basketball at this level. There are no equal playing time rules this year, and we really didn't want to see him spend the year on the bench. But I thought surely the boys from last year's team had the best shot at making the team this year.

The team roster was to be posted on the website on Saturday by 8:00 p.m. We spent the day at Canada's Wonderland, and didn't get home until 11:30. Chris and I checked immediately, but the site had not been updated. I checked a number of times before I finally went to bed, but the roster was empty. When I woke up the next morning, Chris was reading his iPod. "He didn't make it," he said. My heart sank. How would we tell Connor? We spent 20 minutes discussing our strategy for breaking this inevitably devastating news to our precious son before heading downstairs to find him watching TV with his sister. He turned to us with red eyes and said "Did you see the website?" He had already checked as soon as he woke up. I opened my arms and he fell into them and cried. My boy's heart was broken and there wasn't one thing I could do about it.

He wasn't angry. He didn't ask "Why?" He didn't blame anyone or begrudge any of his friends who had made the team. He even admitted that it was better to not be on the team at all than to ride bench all season. He was just so sad.

We had planned to fall back on the opportunity this would give Connor to play on his school basketball team this year. School ball is not nearly as competitive as OBA basketball at this level, and he would certainly do well representing Lambeth Public School. However, with the current situation in Ontario schools, it is unlikely there will be a basketball team this year. Or possibly next year, for that matter. And that means no basketball at all for Connor. And that breaks my heart.

I wish it was just about not making this team. I wish it wasn't also about not playing basketball at all. I wish it wasn't about no longer seeing all the friends he made on the team last year (They don't go to his school, or even live near enough to get together easily). I wish Connor's self-esteem was not so wrapped up in being a basketball player. I pray that it isn't, in the end. I pray that he knows that he is an amazing kid who is good at so many things, whose parents and so many others love him and appreciate his kind heart and great attitude, who just happens to like to play basketball. And I also hope he continues to love basketball. I'll miss hearing the rhythmic bounce, bounce, bounce on the driveway, and seeing his ecstatic grin when he makes a great shot.

Connor recovered amazingly well yesterday. He showered and got ready for church, even joking around with us at breakfast. We took his buddy with us when we went out for brunch after church, and they spent the afternoon together. His only other mention of the sad news was last night when Janelle was talking about the class Chris is taking on Monday nights. "I guess Monday's won't be so hard for you now, Mom," not adding "now that I won't have basketball practice". I know how he's hurting inside, but I know he's trying to make the best of it and keep a smile on his face. That's my sweet boy.

Being a parent is HARD!

Super-Dad to the Rescue!

Yesterday Connor came home from school and set right to work on a presentation that was due today. I had spent some time with him on the weekend choosing pictures that represented his subject, but he wanted to put in transitions and labels and set it all to music. I have no idea how he does it — he is becoming far more computer savvy than I am! He spent nearly two hours getting it just right, and after we had dinner and he had gotten ready for basketball he tried to burn it to a DVD. I was downstairs cleaning up the kitchen when I heard him howl.

"It's all gone! Everything I did today is gone!" He was inconsolable. Nothing I said could reassure him that it would be okay. We had to leave for basketball practice, and he was in a state of hysteria. I didn't have one clue what to do to find that file on the computer. Chris was staying at work until it was time to pick Connor up from practice, so I called him to see if he had any kind of "magic fix". At first, Connor wouldn't even speak to his dad on the phone. He was determined to scream and cry and insist that he would be getting an F on the project. Finally, between Chris and I, he calmed enough to get in the van and head to practice. I was able to talk to him a bit about his response to the situation while we drove. I told him that having a fit when something goes wrong (which I'm sure he either learned from me or it's something we share in our common DNA) is showing God that we are not trusting him to take care of the situation. We prayed together on our way, and by the time we reached the high school, Connor seemed ready to go in and focus on basketball for two hours. I headed home, continuing to pray for my boy as I drove.

As I mentioned yesterday, I was hosting our Community Group last night, so when Chris and Connor arrived home we were in the middle of our meeting. I heard them go upstairs and assumed they were looking into the problem. Only ten minutes later they came downstairs, Connor heading to the refrigerator for a drink, and Chris joining our group in the family room. I mouthed across the room to Chris "Did you find it?" and he nodded with a smile. Relief flooded through me, and I winked at Connor as he made his way upstairs to bed.

Chris is amazing with just about any computer problem. Sometimes it takes him hours or even days to figure it out, but I have yet to see him permanently stumped. I am completely boggled by almost anything computer related. Sure, I can navigate my way around things that are intentionally made easy for dolts like myself, but I do not in any way understand the inner workings. I am so thankful that Chris's talents fill in where my own are lacking. Parenting isn't easy, but at least when there are two of us we can cover most of the bases. I know there are many single parents doing an awesome job on their own, but I am eternally grateful that I am not one of them.

Today, I am thankful for an amazing husband who is a Super-Dad to our kids. And I am thankful for an opportunity to teach my son something about leaning on God to take care of our problems instead of immediately panicking. Sometimes He uses those situations as little reminders to me as well.

I Have a Mommy Ache

Friday was the day that the first progress reports came home from school this year, and somehow, for the first time ever, I forgot about it. I didn't realize it until this afternoon when Connor was digging in his bookbag to find out if he had homework to finish. His discovery sent Janelle rushing off to find her bookbag and hand me hers.

Connor's report card was fairly good, pretty much as expected. He isn't leading the class, but he has a pretty good handle on everything, and other than a few issues with keeping focus and staying neat and organized, his teacher thinks he's an awesome kid (which he is, of course).

Janelle's report card made me heartsick. She has always struggled with staying focused, because she has such an active imagination, but her teachers have always managed to be positive and cheer her many strengths while encouraging her to speed up and stay on task. For the first time, her teacher seemed to find far more negatives to highlight on her report than positives. "Needs Improvement" was more common than "Good" or even "Satisfactory".

I wasn't taken completely by surprise. The teacher had called a couple of weeks ago to discuss Janelle's progress in reading, saying that she knows she can read well, but because she reads so slowly her reading level would have to be set back. I got off the phone miserable, and in the end, quite angry. Janelle loves to read! Am I supposed to take something she loves to do and insist we use a stopwatch every time she does it? Does adding that kind of pressure really help? She is a pokey little puppy! Everything Janelle does is at the pace of a turtle. She will never suffer from stress or high blood pressure. She cannot be hurried, but her work is always neat and perfectly done. When I asked for suggestions, the teacher was not helpful.

At suppertime we tried to talk to Janelle about the importance of staying focused and on task and completing her work more quickly. We tried to impress upon her the importance of keeping her mind on what she is doing, but I know that urgency is not a concept Janelle really understands. Since birth she has done things when she is good and ready. She was born six days late, didn't walk until 17 months, didn't talk until she was two (when she opened her mouth and surprised us with full sentences). She is amazingly self-assured and confident, and I hate the idea of compromising that in response to a negative report card.

So tonight I have a Mommy ache. I'm hurting because I know I have to start getting tough with my little girl. I'm hurting because I feel like her teacher doesn't recognize how amazing she is. And I'm hurting because I don't really know where to go from here to make it all better. Time to get on my knees!

Tonight I am thankful for Janelle, my imaginitive, articulate, brilliant daughter. I wouldn't trade her for all the speedy little girls in the world!

Mom's Antennae

The first night after we brought Connor home from the hospital he slept in his own room, and we kept the baby monitor on in our bedroom. Neither of us slept a wink. We heard every breath Connor took, every rustle he made, practically every heartbeat. That was the end of that. We never brought a baby monitor into our room again. Connor's room was just across the hall from ours, and we were both able to sleep soundly, but I still heard every tiny wimper he made. God gives mothers special ears. I call it Mom's antennae. There is something about childbirth that enhances our hearing.

Last night, I don't even know what I heard but suddenly I sat up in bed and said "Chris.... Nellie!" I sleep on the far side of the bed from the door and I was immediately afraid I wouldn't get to her in time. I took off running. Chris didn't hear a thing before my footsteps pounding toward the door. Sure enough, the stomach flu had hit our house, taking our baby girl down for the count. It was around 2:30 a.m., and I don't think I fully fell back to sleep before the second time I heard a noise. It was about 4:15 and it sounded like a cough, magnified so that it sounded like it was right next to my ear. This time I had to change her sheets, so I woke Chris to sit with her in the bathroom while I gathered the laundry, carried it down to the washing machine, and put fresh sheets on the bed. All the while, Chris sat on the floor in the hallway shaking his head and saying "I don't understand how you heard her". Mama's ears — one of God's amazing gifts.

My last interuption was around 5:30 a.m. Chris didn't rouse at all for that one, although he murmured something about "Sorry you're having a rough night" when I climbed back into bed. I reset my alarm for 7:30 and finally settled into a sound sleep. Today, Janelle and I have stayed pretty close to my bed. I got up for lunch, and she has stayed to watch TV. We read some of a chapter book for a while. She still isn't able to even keep water down, so she hasn't eaten at all, and she is pathetically pale. But she's content to stay in my bed and doze and look at books and watch her shows, even when I go downstairs. She knows I'll hear her if she needs me. She has perfect faith in Mama's ears.

Dancing the Afternoon Away...

When I dropped Janelle, her brother and her friends off at school this morning she had a big smile on her face. I'm sure the gently falling snow that she was catching on her tongue had something to do with it, but that wasn't the whole story. The main source of her excitement today is the first dance of the school year, being held for the grades K-3 classes this afternoon from 3:30 p.m. to 5:00 p.m.

Where we come from, dances don't start until middle school. And when I was growing up, even those were discouraged by responsible adults. I think I only went to one dance in Junior High, and maybe three in high school. Dances were a pretty taboo activity for good girls like me, and knowing some of the things that went on at those dances, it might have been for good reason. But as a parent of kids of the 21st century, I feel like I need to really consider my attitude toward school dances and my kids' attendance at them.

Maybe dances aren't such a big deal. I went to sock hops in Junior High at lunch hour every Friday, and I loved them! I was a good kid, and I wouldn't have been involved in any "taboo" activity no matter where I was. And my kids are really good kids, too. I'm not volunteering at the dance today, but I plan to be a pretty regular presence at any and all of the activities that my kids want to be involved in. And this is one activity that Janelle really wants to be involved in! Last year we were only here for one school dance, and I was really quite surprised when Janelle said she wanted to go. I don't know why I was surprised, though. That is just so "Janelle". When I arrived to pick her up, she was happy as could be, singing and dancing with her friends, and eating a bag of Cheesies. It could not have been more innocent fun, and maybe it is a bit of a utopian ideal, but I think that if a school dance can be an innocent affair in Grade 2, it can be in Grade 12. It's really all about how involved we are with our kids, isn't it?

So this afternoon Janelle will be going to her second school dance, from 3:30 to 5:00. The dance for the Grade 4 to 6 kids is from 5:00 to 7:00, and Connor hasn't decided whether or not he is going to go. Last year he decided to go at the last minute, and he had a great time. I'm pretty sure he'll be going this time, too, when he finds out how many of his friends will be there. He'll go, but if he's planning to actually dance, I might have to sneak in with a camera!

Happy Father's Day!

Tomorrow is Father's Day, and I can't help but use today's post to pay tribute to four very special fathers in my life.

Growing up, I was the luckiest kind of girl. I had a Dad who tucked me in every night, who gave the very best hugs, and who showered me with love in all kinds of ways. He taught me to ride a bike and to drive a car. He rode the tilt-a-whirl with me and loved every minute. I always knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I was treasured. I was proud of my dad. I still am. Today he is Papa to my kids, and I couldn't ask for a more loving grandfather for them. They love that twinkle in his eye every bit as much as I do. I am so thankful that just over a week ago I got to feel one of those world-class hugs, and in about a month I'll get to enjoy another one. Happy Father's Day, Dad! I love you so much!

Like all princesses, I grew up dreaming of finding a prince to carry me away to his castle. One of the most important qualities I prayed for in a husband was someone who wanted children, and who would be a good father. My prayer was surely answered. We don't live in a castle, but we have a great little family that I wouldn't trade for all the jewels in the Tower of London. Chris is an awesome dad. He is wise and caring and fills us all with love. He has taught our kids to ride their bikes, and before long he'll teach them to drive a car (yikes!), and yes, he rides the Tilt-A-Whirl with them, too (it's a good thing, since I can't anymore!) He helps with their homework, lets them help him with chores, and teaches them things I'd never think to show them. He is exactly the dad I grew up dreaming I'd find for my children. Happy Father's Day, Chris! Words can't express how much I love you, and how thankful I am that our kids have you for a dad!

Marrying Chris 14 years ago brought another dad into my life. I have loved my father-in-law, Bliss, since he was just "my boyfriend's dad". Now I love him for so many reasons! I have always been grateful to him for raising my husband so well, from adolescence to adulthood, and giving him the tools to become a good dad himself. And now I appreciate what a wonderful grandfather he has become. I love to watch him watching his grandchildren, so proud and enjoying every minute. My children are blessed to have a Grampie like Bliss. Happy Father's Day, Bliss! Lots of love from "the best of the lot"!

Less than two years ago, my baby brother became a dad, and I'm so proud of the dad he has become. I always knew he would excel at the role of father, especially after I had my own kids and saw how much he enjoyed them. I did have my doubts about how he would handle diapers, but he is a pro. He plays with his daughter, cares for her and disciplines her. Somehow he transformed from "my bratty little brother" into "a really awesome dad". How did that happen? Hailey is the luckiest kind of girl, just like I was, to have Brad for a Daddy. I guess he must have learned from the best! Happy Father's Day, Brad! I love you, and I love watching you be Hailey's Daddy!

These are the four special dads in my life, but there are so many others that I know who deserve a tribute this Father's Day. I don't think there are many men reading this blog, so I will address this to the women in their lives. Please do something special for all those dads this weekend. Remember how blessed you are to have them in your lives!

Meeting at School

We met with the Program Development Team at the school today. Basically it was a positive meeting. The primary concerns were Connor's ability to keep himself on task well enough to complete his work in a reasonable amount of time, and the anxiety he experiences when he doesn't get his work done and has to spend recess in the homework room.

Lots of things were said, by the teacher, by the school psychologist, by us. The principal and learning support teacher basically just acted as witnesses. Hopefully progress was made. Primarily, we wanted to impress upon all of them that this has been a huge transition for Connor, and it hasn't even been a month yet. We have gone through 4 1/2 years of school without one negative comment about his behaviour, and less than two weeks after starting at a new school there are complaints from the teacher. How much are we expecting of this little (at least in my mind) boy who has just endured the biggest change of his life? The psychologist was very much the voice of reason, saying that this has only been a very short time and Connor would of course still manifest anxiety over all the new people, expectations, and environments in his life.

Most importantly, we impressed upon the teacher that Connor needs to be well aware of what is expected of him, and what the consequences of his actions will be. If he isn't surprised by a consequence, he will usually take it without too much problem. But if he is suddenly told "Nope, no outdoor play for you today", he will have trouble dealing with that. He is sensitive, and needs to feel safe in his world. He needs to know what is coming. I have to deal with this all the time. Chris is constantly reminding me not to spring a form of discipline on Connor that he wasn't expecting. It isn't fair to do that to him.

So I hope his teacher will take that into consideration. And I hope she will try to integrate some positive reinforcement techniques into her teaching. Chris was very forceful in asking what techniques the teacher uses to keep students on task. Her answer was not particularly satisfying, but at least Chris made the point that keeping a 10-year-old on task in the classroom is not only the responsibility of the 10-year-old. I think this teacher has previously taught middle school grades, and has the same expectations of grades 3 and 4 as she had of those students. I think she needs to add some motivation techniques to her repertoire. Positive motivation is so much more effective with Connor. His NB teacher had a reward system, where the kids earned play money that they could spend at occasional classroom auctions over the course of the year. Worked like a charm for Connor. I wished afterward that I had mentioned it at the meeting, but I don't want to sound like I am trying to tell his teacher how to teach.

I survived the meeting, although there were moments that I was afraid I would dissolve into a puddle. Now I just want to put it behind me and move forward. We need to talk to Connor about what is expected of him. He does need to take responsibility for his own work, and if he doesn't finish on time, he needs to accept the consequences. That's just something that goes along with growing up. But I don't want to spend any more time worrying about it. We have all lost enough sleep over this. Time to move on.

Call from the Teacher

Connor's teacher called this morning. It was early, before school started, so I was out taking the kids to school and missed the call. She left a message, just asking me to get back to her by phone, or to stop in this afternoon when I pick up the kids. She said she just wanted to touch base, to keep good communication between us. As a teacher, I've made many similar phone calls myself in the past. So why do I feel a sense of dread?

I know Connor is a good kid. I know that he is certainly not one of the "problem kids" in any class. He is fun, and funny, and kind and friendly. He is a little chatty (ok, at times a lot chatty), and I'm sure he is easily distracted from his work. But all in all, I would love to have a kid like him in my class. And I'm not just saying that because I'm his mom! I can't imagine that she would have anything really serious to discuss. She just wants to make sure that we are both providing Connor with a smooth transition.

So I shouldn't be nervous about meeting with his teacher this afternoon. I shouldn't be, but I am. My "Mama Bear" instincts are kicking in. I know that it is important to keep open communication with the teacher, so that when a problem does arise in any form, we will all be prepared to deal with it together. I am used to coming at this situation from the other side. Being the parent shouldn't scare me!

But I still have a nervous pit in my stomach. And I don't think anything is going to make it go away before 3:30.

A Step Back in Time

I did get lots done yesterday, and I did some exploring, too. I went back to the house we almost bought and discovered that, as expected, the owners had taken it off the market. Then I came home and got to work on Janelle's room. I got all the boxes unpacked, but did not get it all organized. My goodness, how does one little girl end up with so much STUFF! Today I'm going back in armed with garbage bags! I will finish before noon!

Last night I had an interesting experience. I went to a breastfeeding class with my friend, Jocelyn (my only friend in London), who is expecting her first baby next month. Her husband really didn't want to go, and I was happy to get out of the house and be her support person. It was fascinating to sit in a room full of pregnant women, most for the first time, and see them learning all they can about this mysterious art. It was hard, too. Because I LOVED breastfeeding, and I miss it! It is one of the things I miss most about having a baby. We watched a movie full of precious newborns learning to feed, and it took me back in time. Yes, it was painful at first, but it was soooooo worth it! What a precious bonding experience! I just wanted to stand up and shout to all these expectant mothers "You are so blessed! You are about to experience the most beautiful thing you can imagine! Treasure it because it WILL NOT LAST!" Time with our new babies is so fleeting.

It was hard keeping my mouth closed. There were so many things I wanted to remind the instructors to say: Tell them they may not feel their milk come in. Tell them not to give up for at least two weeks, because no matter how hard it is, it will get better and it is the best feeling in the world. Tell them what thrush is, and how to recognize it, and not to let it ruin their nursing experience. I found myself nodding along with them most of the time, and sometimes finding that things I did on a regular basis are frowned upon nowadays.
I kind of wish I had taken a breastfeeding class before I had my babies. Oh, we did the prenatal classes, of course. And I read everything about nursing that I could get my hands on. And I had many experienced friends who were full of advice. But there is something about learning with others in the same situation that make those silly questions in the back of your mind seem not so silly. Maybe I would have known that Connor's bright orange bowel movements when he was four days old were not something to worry about. Maybe I wouldn't have let Janelle's thrush steal some of my joy from her first precious weeks. There is something to be said about being prepared.

Still, when it comes to anything about motherhood, I don't think we can be 100% prepared. We learn far more from experience than anything we could have learned from a class. I felt like I could have stood up and taught most of that class last night, but I wouldn't have shared anything that I learned from a book. It would have all come from what Connor and Janelle have taught me. The answers to so many of the questions the women had last night were "It depends on your baby". And now that my babies are 10 and 6, it still very often depends on them.

So where do I sign up for the class on surviving the teenage years?