The Number of Children I Have Who Can Go Off the Diving Board Independently Now Equals Two!

Saturday night is float night at our pool. Failure to check the timing of the event (plus later than expected delivery of a dog we are watching for the next couple of weeks) meant that rather than being at the pool from 5 - 7 when floats were allowed in the pool, we were there from 6 - 8. This turned out to be amazingly lucky.

When float night ended, the kids set their enormous T-Rex float on the side of the pool, and I decided to swim a few laps. For whatever reason, this inspired the kids to swim laps with me. I don't tend to worry about Connor in the pool, but the idea that Helen would swim the length of the pool was almost unfathomable. Although I had thought she'd be swimming a year ago, she pretty much stalled out and hasn't seemed that into swimming.

Helen jumped in the water and started a very slow swim across the pool. She flipped to her back a couple of times and remembered to move her arms in "chicken, airplane, soldier" and she was steadily making progress. I only assisted her a couple of times. I was definitely impressed.

We got to the end of the lap lane, and Helen announced that she wanted to do it again. I told her if she was going to do it again, we were getting a lifeguard, because something inside me told me this kid was going to pass the swim test and become eligible for the diving board.

I accompanied her to the lifeguard table and made my ridiculous request. The lifeguard in charge looked at me as if I was crazy, and I shrugged and said "it might work out". And indeed, Helen swam the length of the pool. She flipped from front to back as needed, and twice she almost bumped into the side of the pool when she was going backwards, but she got herself off the wall and kept on moving, chanting "chicken, airplane, soldier". At one point, the lifeguard said "kick those feet", and Helen did. I started to get really excited when we were about 10 feet from the end of the pool. Helen was getting tired, but she flipped to her stomach and realized how close she was and swam to the end!

I can't even express how proud Helen was of her accomplishment. I think it took her by surprise. She's been telling me since the pool opened that she knows how to swim the length of the pool, but when I tell her she needs to show the lifeguards, she always declines "not now".

She then proceeded to jump off the board three times, and though Connor would later tell me he liked it when he was the only one who could use the diving board, he had a ball with her. Seems only fair that I missed her first solo jumps, given that I missed Connor's as well.

But now, I give you several of today's jumps. She apparently forgot how to swim between last night and today because I almost had a heart attack as I watched her try and get to the side. But she made it, every time.

Bravo, Helen!

Missing from this video is the moment when I came about 1 second away from diving in after Helen to fetch her out of the water, and the many times Connor tried to encourage her to do some sort of trick off the board.

Connor Rides His Bike!

Prior to today, Connor hasn't ever gotten really into the idea of riding a bike. He certainly has lots of fun on the trail-a-bike with Ed, and he was always up for riding in the bike seat when he was younger, but propelling himself didn't grab his attention. This is only a problem because as semi-regular bike commuters, I want Connor to enjoy riding bikes as much as Ed and I do. And I also want to be able to have him bike himself to the beach when we visit Chincoteague, so Ed can put Helen on the trail-a-bike, and I can worry about only myself.

For whatever reason, Connor decided he didn't want Ed to teach him to learn to ride a bike, so I decided I would give it a go. For a few weeks, when Ed and Helen would go to the grocery store, Connor and I would go and practice at the dead end street around the corner from us "in secret". A neighbor of mine gave me an awesome tip when she saw me running behind Connor helping him to balance his bike - which turned out to be the best piece of unsolicited parenting advice I have ever received. She showed me how to grab the back of Connor's shirt so that now Connor was controlling the bike, but I was aiding him enough in his balance that he didn't crash.

Connor is exceedingly concerned about crashing. I continue to assure him that crashing is inevitable, and that he's lucky he's a kid now, when kids get bike helmets. Because in my day? Not so much.

A month or so ago, Connor requested that I remove his training wheels, so I told Ed to remove his training wheels and pretend he knew nothing about it. Because bike maintenance? That is not my department. This all, for the record, was killing Ed because Ed really wanted to see Connor learn to ride a bike.

A couple of weeks ago, Connor finally showed Ed his stuff, and yesterday, he coasted down our street with Ed trotting behind.

Today? He is officially a bike rider. He cruised around the parking lot with ease, and then went around our block a few times. He loves riding too fast and in the span of a few minutes, I went from being super happy about Connor's new skills to super terrified. Can't win for trying, sometimes.

I present to you in video form Connor's bike riding, with interludes of Helen skating and cruising around on her Radio Flyer.

Music by Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers - Gravity

Elaine

Connor's First Open Mic

Connor participated in his elementary's school's first ever open mic night. Modeled after the Busboys and Poets Poetry Slam, children were asked to submit a piece of writing they had completed. The PTA would choose works across grades in a random selection, and would supplement the line-up by asking teachers to nominate students as well.

I never turned in the submission form, because Connor's writing lacks depth, shall we say? For him to string two sentences together is a near miracle, but for whatever reason, participating in this event stuck in his craw. I figured he'd forget about it but the day after entries were due, he came to me waving the reminder flier (how he found it amongst the approximately one bajillion items sent home every Friday I will never know) and begged me not to forget to submit something for him.

Craptastic.

So I figured I would submit something late, and hope the committee would have mercy on me. You see, every other time this year there has been a deadline, I have met it. Only to get an email the day after the due date saying "if you didn't meet the deadline, don't worry. Submit whatever random thing you were supposed to submit by the end of the week".

But for that event? The day after entries were recieved - just minutes after Connor had reminded me not to forget, I received an email in my inbox proclaiming "everyone who signed up gets to participate!". So I emailed the PTA president immediately, begged forgiveness, explained that Connor wanted to do this the entire time but I was too lazy to work with him and submit something, and if they could not accept something from him I totally understood because they'd sent home many reminders and this was ALL MY FAULT. And really, I'm a bad mom sometimes, but that's my problem, not theirs. The PTA president forwarded my pathetic email to the committee chair and she took pity on me and said she'd be happy to include Connor.

So then we spent Christmas break writing a story. I have to hand it to Connor. The story started out with his typical two sentences (something along the lines of: She dropped her fishing pole in the water. We couldn't find it.") but he was thrilled to keep writing as I asked him questions about the story, asked if there was anything else an audience who wasn't actually at the event being described would want to know, who is "she", etc. It was hard work, and he rocked it. We even went so far as to cut up his written work into sentences that he could easily re-arrange and write another sentence to insert in between.

Prior to leaving for the evening, I told Connor he needed to wear "fancy clothes" which means, no sweat pants. He took it up a notch and hung one of Ed's ties around his neck as well. We are nothing, if not an awesome dressing family.

Connor is so thrilled with this piece, I cannot possibly capture it in words. However, I can present to you his performance (yay video camera!) and let you know that in Ed's completely biased opinion, Connor's was the best first grade piece.

I thought the collection of storytellers was a complete hoot. Helen seemed to enjoy several pieces and only criticized one as being "really long".

I hope they have the event again. The only thing that really annoyed me is that Connor was so proud of himself - just beaming, and then at the end they announced, in typical public school fashion "and all our writers get a prize". I know Connor loves these prizes, but I really feel as if the school is doing everything it can to eliminate all internal motivation. I hope they don't succeed.

Elaine

Helen, in a nutshell

On Friday, we went to an indoor playground. Connor scrambled right in. Helen decided that there should be an entrance where only a net existed. In this video, she gropes around for an entrance and then Connor points her toward the correct place. Only when she sees the entrance, does she enter? Oh no, because apparently she remains convinced that the door should be elsewhere, and she can't get over her annoyance at the door not being where she preferred it to be. I mean, come on, what were the designers of this space thinking? So Connor tries to rationalize with the irrational being, and demonstrates to her that the entrance will work. Not surprisingly, he failed to persuade her, so eventually I just tossed her in the entrance, and she was happy and started playing.

More of a Rules Follower Than We Thought

While at the pool, little tweets surround us - a child is running across the pool deck, big kids are dunking each other, someone brings food into the pool area. Connor always looks up at the lifeguard when he hears this sound, and Ed or I always assure him that everything is fine, someone is probably just running. As we prepared to make our movie, Connor half walked, half skipped up to the board. Not enough to earn a tweet, mind you. He was very excited when it was finally his turn to jump.

Only there was a problem.

Connor had decided to change one element in his jump from the previous day. He decided to wear goggles so that when he started swimming he could see better.

Goggles are not allowed on the diving board. I had no idea. Connor had no idea. Ed knew, but he was in the little pool with Helen.

As Connor mounted the board, he heard the familiar tweet. Only this time, for the first time ever, when Connor looked up, the lifeguard was looking at him and said "no goggles on the diving board" in a very casual tone. Only what Connor heard was something more like "Little kid - you there - the rule breaker. How could you be so stupid as to climb up the diving board with goggles on. That is the most ridiculous thing that has ever been attempted at our pool and you are the only person dumb enough to do such a thing. Go away. Go far away."

And Connor was mortified. He melted. He slumped off the board crying so hard he couldn't form a sentence. He buried his head in my lap and after sobbing for a few seconds, he finally uttered "I want to go home right now". And then he screamed repeatedly, broken up only by his sobbing "I want to go home RIGHT NOW. RIGHT NOW." And at this point, I think every parent in the pool was looking at me, and I'm pretty sure they were probably thinking "You there, with the video camera, don't you know your kid is too little to go off the diving board. Why are you forcing him to do something so terrifying?". I carried Connor to the shallow end of the pool and told him that we weren't leaving because Helen, Daddy, and I still wanted to swim. I offered that he could hang out in a chair if he wanted or that we could go in the shallow end together and look at each other underwater with our goggles on. And then I told him to discuss it with his dad because nothing I was saying was improving the situation.

Ed gave him a hug, and then Connor decided we should look at each other underwater. Only as soon as he looked at me, he started swimming across the pool, and then he saw the diving board and shouted "I want to go off the diving board", and he tossed his goggles, and I dashed for my camera (not sure if I was the runner they were tweeting at or not, but I wasn't going to look back now!). And this is probably the millionth time in the last four years that I have wanted to understand the mood swings of a child, and I also considered adding "manic depressive" to the list of conditions (which currently includes OCD) I should be sure NOT to mention to any school counselors.

And now I present to you, the jump.



When Connor watched the video, he laughed. When he watched the one where you can hear the lifeguard tweet at him (not present here), he asked "where is the part where I'm crying?".

So maybe he just has a feel for adding dramatic flair to movies?

In celebration of life

January 25, my friend Laurie gave birth to her second daughter, Mia.

February 3, my cousin's daughter, Sadie, died.

Laurie lives only a few blocks from me, and gave birth at home. As it turns out, the same midwife who caught Connor caught Mia. During Laurie's labor, her husband called to see if I would come over just to bring a different energy to the atmosphere. I had told them both before the birth that I would be more than happy to be involved in any way Laurie thought would be helpful. To make a long story short, it was really cool.

I arrived at Laurie's after she had been in labor for a few hours. Connor and Helen were both in bed and I told Ed I'd probably only be there for an hour or so because I wasn't sure how long she'd want me there. Truth be told, it was awful timing for me. Connor had been sick and a true grump, Ed and I were both on edge, and we were feeling really overwhelmed. But I wasn't going to tell a man with a wife in labor that I couldn't come after they had been so good to pick-up Connor around 7AM the day Helen was born to care for him, and so I went. Plus, I felt at least partly responsible for Laurie being in labor at home without meds since I had told her how great giving birth at home was about 1 million times. I was also very excited that Scott had called because I thought I could be helpful and really wanted to be there.

I could never possibly describe it fully, but seeing a woman in labor is incredible. The moment it starts, everyone knows what the ending will be - a baby will be born. But nobody knows how long it's going to be, what twists will happen, or how many special moments will be recorded along the way. I should point out, that I'm one of those people who thinks it's just amazing that a tiny seed can be planted in the ground in May and a couple of months later a tomato will be there. So you can imagine how amazing I think a little human growing inside a person is.

My mom gave me some great advice about weddings one day. She told me that there was so much hulabaloo leading up to a wedding, that by the time it comes, it can go by so fast that the actual day doesn't end up being nearly as glorious as it seemed it would be with all the planning. I'm not sure she would remember saying this, but it was at the time my sister's wedding was being planned and I remember it. When my own wedding came, I decided I was going to take my mom's advice (which I believe was to focus on the event, not the details) and enjoy that day to the fullest. After Ed and I hired people we thought would make a good contribution to the day, I refused to manage any small details. The day of the wedding, we were having photos taken at the reception site and the maitre'd asked me a couple of questions about details (I believe they had to do with placement of salt and pepper shakers, and possibly about when the bar would be open). I remember telling him "I'm sorry, I'm not going to answer any questions. Ed is in charge of all wedding day details. I'm sure your instincts on this are better than mine anyway." I said this not because Ed cared at all about any detail (except that the bars be OPEN at all times), but because I knew there was no way the maitre'd was going to bother Ed, so I was freeing the maitre'd up to do his job, and he wouldn't have to worry that I was going to have a meltdown because some tiny detail wasn't perfect. It worked perfectly. The maitre'd never asked Ed anything, and by avoiding concerning myself with any particular detail, I have no memories of anything going wrong, and I have a ton of fabulous memories about the day. I wouldn't change a thing. Not because it was perfect, but because everything important turned out perfectly. I really felt like a guest at my own wedding rather than feeling the need to orchestrate anything.

A child's birth is also something that should be remembered like a wedding. And similarly, you spend a lot of time planning for it - both in the conception phase and then during pregnancy. The problem is, you can't offload caring about details - particularly when you give birth at home. In short, your partner can do an awful lot, but he's not the maitre'd of the event. He can help make sure there is adequate food and liquid in the house. But only the laboring woman knows the right time to call the midwife and birth assistant. Most importantly, nobody can labor for you. In short, I would've loved to be a spectator at both of my births, but I was so focused on conserving energy and getting through the pain, that I couldn't really sit back and take in all the little things. Other people could, and did, but I was working really hard. Certainly I had a few moments at the beginning to be in awe "holy cow! I'm having a baby!", but once the serious business of labor began, there was no pause button.

So to have the opportunity to watch someone else's labor was very cool. I got to really marvel at all the little moments, but I wasn't in pain. I could provide support for Laurie and Scott, but after the contraction happened, I didn't need to start gearing up for the next one. Instead, I could sit back and say "wow - that's amazing. Your body is really working hard." I am so grateful for that experience. I finally understand why midwives do what they do. The hours are terrible, it can be hell on a family, and I suspect the pay is mediocre - but catching babies is meaningful work. And, my own bias is that doing this in a home setting is the most meaningful of all because the midwife, birth assistant, friend, whomever the laboring woman invites - enters the room with the laboring woman on her terms. So the contribution of being the midwife at a home birth is really crucial. She might be the only person with substantial medical knowledge around.

I went home to feed Helen once during labor, and then when it was getting really late, there was a moment when all of a sudden Scott went from sort of being on the outside worrying about Laurie to totally getting what his role was, and at that point, I went up to Laurie and told her everything looked great and I went home. Scott called once more when apparently Laurie was screaming at the midwives and had definitely hit a wall. I was feeding Helen though, so it took me some time to get over there. I waited to make sure Helen was all the way asleep before I headed back, and this was a mistake because I missed the actual birth by 4 minutes. But, it was still so cool to have been there earlier and to share a few moments with Laurie right after she'd given birth. I will treasure these memories always.

The next day, I told Ed I needed to be a midwife. I told him there was a 3 year Masters program at Georgetown for folks who weren't already nurses. I was totally ready to sign up. Ed is a very smart man. He would never tell me "you cannot do that". After all, he knows that I can be stubborn. Possibly my sister telling me I could never give birth at home is what kept me there when I had serious doubts with Connor and for a few moments, buried my head in a chair and thought to myself that I was never going to make it because it was SO.PAINFUL. But as soon as those thoughts entered my head, I knew transferring to a hospital would mean my sister was right and I was wrong about giving birth at home. I wasn't about to call her up from the hospital and tell her I was waiting for a baby to arrive while my anesthesiologist gave me an epidural. Nothing wrong with hospitals and epidurals - but I had told my sister they weren't for me and I wasn't backing down. So instead of telling me he wouldn't support me becoming a midwife, Ed said perhaps I should give it a little time, maybe become a birth assistant or doula first. I still think about it, but I am not nearly as convinced as I was that I need to be a midwife - though I do think I would be good at it and if I knew what I know now back when I was choosing careers, I would be a midwife now. The high of witnessing birth, was really high.

And then came the cruelest low. My cousin's daughter, Sadie, died after a two year struggle with cancer. Kids are not supposed to preceed their mom in death. It is not right, on any level, and there is no possible explanation that I will accept for this tragic event. If you find comfort in the thought that your god has some grand plan and this is all part of it, then your god is not nearly as merciful as my god. My god would never have a mission to prove something by ending a child's life. Which is just a very direct way of saying that I am unable to gloss over this loss with any supernatural explanation. I am, however, very hopeful that the next dimension will be much kinder to Sadie than this one ended up being.

I often wonder how my cousin manages to get through each day because I'm not sure I could handle losing either one of my children. I did not know Sadie well - only met her a few times at family reunions. My cousin kept folks updated on what was happening with Sadie, and I certainly cheered when good news came and sent all the good karma I could muster toward her when bad news came. The image I hold of Sadie is this unbelievably gorgeous Christmas card my cousin sent that featured 3 super cute photos of her 3 kids before Sadie was diagnosed with cancer. I often think of those photos when I think of Sadie because for me, it just shows how fast things can change. Nobody who received that card could've guessed that they wouldn't be receiving a similar card every year until the kids were teens and too concerned with their image to be the focus of the family Christmas card.

The take away lesson from both of these experiences? Kids are amazing. My kids are particularly amazing. I worked from home one day a few weeks ago and when I went upstairs for lunch, I looked out back to see Connor and the au pair playing in the sand and Helen sitting under the magnolia taking it all in. All I could think about was that I had no idea how many more days like this were going to come. My very flexible employer allowed me to cut my hours back again. I asked to do this because I don't want to miss too many days with my kids while they still think I'm really groovy. Ed has adjusted his hours, too, and he's home almost every day by 4:00. I don't know how long this will last, but I'm going to enjoy it while it does.

Elaine