My Child Turned 8

As in eight YEARS old.  As in, I have an 8 year old child, masquerading around as a woman, living in my house, that I grew in my belly - EIGHT YEARS AGO.

We spent the weekend celebrating her birthday, because I'm me and she's her and we both love birthdays.  The problem is that some sort of mathmatical parenting formula including one birthday monster raising another birthday monster means that certain people equal birthday divas if left unchecked.  Certain people named Elyse that is.  So I had do some minor birthday diva checking like "No you cannot paint a $50 puppy statue at As You Wish."  "No, I will not take you to dessert somewhere else when you just had dessert."  "Yes, you must pay for your own toys using your gift cards."  But by and large, she was a good and gracious birthday girl.  She had an ice skating party and did awesome learning to skate.  She went swimming with her (bonus) sister all evening Saturday.  We took a painting class Sunday morning.  We went shopping, had lunch, colored official oil painting portraits of each other and swam some more.  It was a good 8th birthday if I do say so myself.  Here are some snaps from the big day.



And I love her a lot.  A lot, a lot. 

At 8, she is standing around 5ft tall.  Tall like her mama - I wouldn't be surprised if she grew even taller.  She wears a size 6 in women's shoes.  She showed her true maternal spirit this year when her brother was born, proving that she really is the fruit of my belly.  She shows glimpses now of big girl with eyes rolling and independance where there was previously pure dependance and blind loyalty to her mama.  She'll ignore me when I make her mad.  She'll argue if she disagrees.  I try and remind myself that no now means no later to bad boys and mean girls.  She loves fashion and art.  She likes to wear crazy things and is fearless when she does it.  I ask her, "What will you say when someone tells you that you don't match?" she'll say, "I'll tell them they don't match, and ask them why they care what I'm wearing."  We had our first conversation about body image.  I told her all that matters is that she loves herself and that her body is strong.  She understands more and more about God, telling me that my brother died so that things that we haven't seen yet will happen one day for our good.  In her first practice running in volleyball, she got last place and I could tell she gave up.  I told her she had to run fast, and harder when she saw other people beating her.  I told her she should feel like her lungs are on fire and that her heart is beating out of her chest and to just keep trying harder and harder.  The next practice she got 2nd place.  The kids in her class love her and everyone wants to be her friend.  Her teachers want a 100 children like her in their classroom.  She is lazy at reading, but she catches on to learning concepts easily.  She still rocks at art.  She can fit into some of my smaller clothes barely, and this delights her.  She sneaks into my jewelry and asks to borrow my dangley earrings.  She loves when I put make up on her for special occassions.  She still likes to cuddle on the couch.  She nearly never cries and when she does cry, she hates to do it front of other people.  When she wrote me a mushy card for mother's day, she didn't want anyone else to read it.  Things like that are so clearly me in her.  She bosses her brother around but also scolds him and pulls him back if he walks into a street without looking first.  She is still a terribly picky eater and gags if Milo spits up on her.  She will help me willingly with anything I ask her to help me with.  She has a terrible habit of saying anything and everything that comes to mind to say like telling the Nanny that we "spy" on her (which we do with the camera), or telling me I have a pimple on my face, or telling my Grandma that the flowers she gave us died already.  She still holds my hands sometimes when we are walking, but she always hugs me when I see her.  She hates when I do her hair, but likes when I help her pick out an outfit.  She is still more child than big girl, thank God for that.

Here are some pages from the birthday book I made her about her life.

I just love her. I love this show. I want her to be my bff.

Parenting Model

My parenting model is pretty simple.  I find myself repeating the same principles over and over that guide how I make decisions about my kids.

I love God first.  Then my husband.  Then my kids.  Which unless you're a Christian is super hard to understand, but it's important to know that it doesn't mean I love my kids less than my husband.  It's a priority of lifestyle that keeps everyone running smoothly.  It avoids that entitled mentality that kids have these days where they feel like everything has to revolve around them and their needs (ie. I'm boredddddd - ENTERTAIN ME!"  It also gives them a healthy dose of respect for authority.  It also instills that God is more important than any and everything else.

I'm consistent and I'm calm when I'm angry.  I attack the logic of the scenario whenever possible.  "Why would you turn off the shower when your brother still has soap on his face.  Do you think that's kind?  Is that the kind of girl you want to be - a bully?"  I ask them what makes good parents and I reinforce that the answer is "to raise people that grow up to be good, kind, happy, successful and Christian adults".

I tell them over and over and over again that the best way to love themselves and see their own value is to try hard things and to practice, practice, practice until they get it right.  When they do that I say "Good job!" but I also say, "Do you feel proud???".  When they can't do something I don't make a big deal out of it, I just tell them "Then practice!"  I show them that I assume they can do anything they want if they practice hard enough.  I don't pity them when things are hard, I encourage them to push through it.

I build the family "brand".  In our family we pray before dinner.  We celebrate Jesus at Easter, we don't give big presents.  We serve each other.  We work hard at school.  We stick up for our brothers and sisters.  We respect each other.  We all do chores to take care of the house.  We ask before we use things that belong to other people.  We have positive attitudes when things are challenging.

We tease and have fun.  The other day I made breast milk ice cream and tricked the kids into trying it.  When Andy cried, I told him to have a sense of humor about it.  When I make a mistake, I laugh.  When they spill their milk, I tell them the table was thirsty and then ask them to clean it up.  I call them dorks.  I call myself a dork.  We're honest and we challenge each other not to take ourselves too seriously.  It's a big family, with a lot of chaos.  We'd go mad if we took things too seriously.

I make sure that they treat their parents, and all other adults with respect.  I ask them to say "Yes?" instead of "What!".  I tell them to come talk to me if they have a question, don't yell at me from the other side of the house.  I don't let them give me one solitary ounce of back talk.  I treat them kindly and with respect, and I expect the same.

Lastly, I tell them at every single turn how special they are to me.  How lucky I am to have them.  I spend their birthday with them every year, just them, doing whatever they want.  I tell them specifically what they are good at and how that makes me proud.  You're so talented at arts and crafts.  You're such a good reader.  You are so good at gymnastics.  You're such a good babysitter.  You're such a smarty pants in math.  I go to their sports games and when they are older and play music (God willing) I will proudly go to their concerts.  I tell them are special because God made every single detail with a purpose.  Why do you think God made you taller than all the other kids? I'll ask.  So I can take care of my brother! she'll answer.  I think you're right, I'll say.

Everything at Once

"Everything At Once"

As sly as a fox, as strong as an ox
As fast as a hare, as brave as a bear
As free as a bird, as neat as a word
As quiet as a mouse, as big as a house

All I wanna be, all I wanna be, oh
All I wanna be is everything

As mean as a wolf, as sharp as a tooth
As deep as a bite, as dark as the night
As sweet as a song, as right as a wrong
As long as a road, as ugly as a toad

As pretty as a picture hanging from a fixture
Strong like a family, strong as I wanna be
Bright as day, as light as play
As hard as nails, as grand as a whale

All I wanna be oh, all I wanna be, oh
All I wanna be is everything
Everything at once
Everything at once, oh
Everything at once

As warm as the sun, as silly as fun
As cool as a tree, as scary as the sea
As hot as fire, cold as ice
Sweet as sugar and everything nice

As old as time, as straight as a line
As royal as a queen, as buzzed as a bee
As stealth as a tiger, smooth as a glider
Pure as a melody, pure as I wanna be

All I wanna be oh, all I wanna be, oh
All I wanna be is everything
Everything at once

 

 

I love the way sunflower sprouts look.  You can see so clearly where it came from and how far it's come.  I woke up this morning and Andy's little sunflower plant from school had sprouted.  Two had already sprouted when he brought it home and they were sickly and I couldn't bring them back to life.  So just when I pulled out the last sickly sprout I saw a little tiny bud poking out of the soil.  So I watered it and put it back in the window.  This morning it was like 3 inches tall - proud, stubborn little sunflower sprout.