The things our girls have taught us this past year. Enjoy.

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A bit about “Nicholby” or No Child Left Behind, except those that really can be great students.

The Excellence Gap by Sol Stern, City Journal Autumn 2011.

For my friends who are currently pregnant. Look what you’re doing!

In a 1943 conversation with William Hermanns recorded in Hermanns’ book Einstein and the Poet, Einstein said: “As I have said so many times, God doesn’t play dice with the world.” (p. 58)

Or, as my husband so delicately puts it, “When I see hot chicks, I see God.”

Moms are always telling me that they wish they had kept track of the adorable things their children said when they were just beginning to have real conversations. Sometimes we get so busy, we forget the most precious quotations of our little ones. I am glad I’ve kept track of ours.
The other thing moms always tell me is that even though my kids are little now, they will grow up and be gone before I know it. They say this as though I’m not enjoying the things the little boogers do, even when mothering gets irritating. I certainly get frustrated sometimes, but there isn’t a moment that goes by when I think “If I didn’t have kids, I would…” If I actually thought that, I wouldn’t be a stay at home mom. I’d outsource motherhood, call in the temps for the tantrums, and one day, be sad that I missed out on the precious events that happen every minute of every day.

There’s a Darius Rucker song making its way across the airwaves called “It Won’t Be Like This For Long”. I heard it on the country station today (yes, Hootie has remade himself Nashville-style) and I found myself tearing up in traffic. I love those little boogers- sometimes I wish I could re-do some things, but they’re still little and we have a ways to go.
listen for yourself

A few weeks ago, I tripped on Charles Krauthammer.

OK, I didn’t trip *on* him, but I definitely walked into his wheelchair and had to stop short while he sped out of the way. That’s what happens when I try to read and walk at the same time. Why can’t I trip on an O’s fan or something more poetic?
Mr. K is one of my favorite political commentators (I really don’t think that should be a word.) on Fox News and the Post. He also has Nationals season tickets two sections over from ours. I’ve seen him a few times and I’ve always wanted to say Hi. I’ve never wanted to trip on his wheelchair, but such are the oddities of my life, along with being clumsy. And socially awkward.
Speaking of socially awkward, I decided to chat Charlie K. up last week. I approached him (while trying to eat his dinner….strike two) and told him I was a big fan. After my impressive opening line, I asked him who, in his professional opinion, I should vote for. His reply: “Anyone but Obama.” Well, duh.
Back in our seats, we enjoyed the game with a family friend- one of a dozen known Republican Jews. He hates Obama. He rails against Obama. When asked who he’d vote for in 2012, his answer is Romney. If Perry or Bachmann wins the ticket?  Obama.
WHAT?
So I realized we need to get it together. Don’t vote for your favorite candidate. My favorite candidate at this point is Santorum. It makes my father-in-law cry. I’m not going to vote for Santorum in the primaries. Or Bachmann. Or anyone that can’t get at least 270 electoral votes. See, I have to vote for the man (yes- I said it- man) who can beat Barack. Not the person with my preferred platform. Or best accent. Or coolest hair, though the last one is a toughie. Bachmann wins that one. Or maybe Kate Middleton…
I digress.
Jim Geraghty says it best:
“I walk into this decision knowing I have to balance how much I like [the candidate] against the criteria of whether enough voters in enough states to amount to 270 electoral votes like him. There’s no point in getting the GOP to nominate my ideal candidate — say, the mind of Friedrich Hayek in the body of Salma Hayek — if the country won’t elect him or her.”

As though he interviewed my husband, he’s got it right.

Cracking the Kindergarten Code.

We are freaking out. Our kids’ neighborhood elementary school is a magnet school- a magnet school that has failed the SOLs so many times that it is about to lose it’s national accreditation. The No Child Left Behind law mandates that schools offer “school choice” for children whose neighborhood school has failed the SOLs at least two years in a row. There are some great schools in our city. The problem is that about 50% of our district’s schools are failing, so 10 schools worth of children are vying for space in the five schools that are viably successful. That’s not a lot of space.

Sophie will probably do well in any school. My worry is that the kids who are behind will take the precious time and energy of her teachers, such that Sophie and other bright kids like her won’t get the time they need to have their creative little minds stretched. I recently read that schools have spent so much money on children who learn more slowly (was that PC enough for ya?) that they are now squashing the potential of the intellectually gifted kids. I don’t know if Sophie is “gifted”, but I know she’s really smart. She asks a lot of questions and is in the middle of every experience she has. If she is ignored or even discouraged by a teacher who doesn’t have the time to answer her questions, she’ll become stagnant. She’s one of those kids who needs to know, and she won’t stop until she does. She needs to be surrounded by other kids like her.

We have to look at private schools, ranging from $6,000 annually to a whopping $24,000 per child. Yikes! Sophie will undergo the

WPPSI-iii pre-k intelligence testing.

this fall. Its like college. She needs testing, teacher recommendations, and annual tuition higher than my own college tuition. Crazy, but these are the things we do for our kids.

Anyone want to buy our house???

I’m terrified that someone is going to concuss, gash, break, splinter, sprain, crash, bust, tear, herniate, dislocate or otherwise maim themselves or someone else on a playground. My children like to stand at the top of the stairs and see how far they can fall before they sever their spines. Pencils are for stabbing into ear canals and q-tips are for shoving up your sister’s nose while she naps. They get all of this from their father, who still has battle scars given by unruly bathroom countertops and glass tables as he learned to “fly” at a young age. I, on the other hand, was perfect.

This fall (or shall I say autumn), our school board’s main goal is to plan and build a new playground. I’m on the board at the preschool. That means I help choose what equipment to buy and how high the children get to climb before they suffer certain head trauma. Eric gets to defend me in the resulting tort suits.

This article by NYTimes’ John Tierney states that kids are more fearful and less safe when they have no experience falling, breaking, crying and healing. I’m much more afraid of roughhousing than Eric, but he’s the one who has experienced jumping off the toilet and into the sink. I’m the one who got slammed on the see-saw as the hellion on the other end jumped down when I was 48″ from the ground.

Little jerk. I remember who you are.

Anyway, read the article. It’s perfect if you’re terrified that your kid is going to cripple himself on the jungle gym.

Sophie and Emily say some pretty funny stuff. Here are a few of my favorites from the last few months.

———

CLASS PICNIC: Sophie and Emily attended my dad’s 48th Initiation Day Picnic at the US Naval Academy. The girls picnicked with my father, his classmates, and their wives. Near the end of the afternoon, classmates took turns sharing the events of the past year with one another. They spoke of retirement, friends and family who passed away, new grandchildren, weddings, and celebrations.

Class President: “Does anyone else have anything they want to share with the group?”

Sophie raises her hand and stands up to speak: “I like princesses. I have lots of princess DVDs at home. I also have dolls. I got on a plane and flew to have lunch with the princesses. I really like princesses.”

During her standing ovation, she glowed, then posed with the rest of the group for the USNA ‘67 class photo.

———

POTTY TRAINING: Emily’s usual routine is to potty in the bathtub, scaring herself, and yelling uncontrollably while I throw her in the shower and cover myself, the tub, and all the toys in bleach. Costco sells bleach. This is good. Last week, Emily managed to potty in the toilet BEFORE her bath. After bath, we picked Sophie up from school and Emily announced, “Sophie! I pooped in the toilet! It is a REALLY. BIG. DEAL.!!”

———-

NAPTIME: The girls each have their own rooms, but they love to sneak into Sophie’s room and bounce on the bed while I’m getting dressed in my room. They are absolutely not allowed to jump on the bed!A couple of weeks ago,  I put Emily down in her crib then headed to Sophie’s room. I walked through the door and found Sophie sitting on her bed, huffing and puffing. She had a huge grin on her face- she was beaming with pride from her toes all the way to her impish little eyes. She couldn’t keep the good news to herself. “Mommy, while you were putting Emily to bed, I was jumping on my bed and I sat down really quick right before you turned around and could catch me!!!”

——–

SIMPLE LOGIC: Sophie and Emily have been fighting more often now that Emily is two. Emily sometimes ends the disagreement with a blow to her sister’s arm or head. Yesterday, she whacked Sophie in the arm with her princess sippy cup. Sophie cried, Emily timed out, and I flamed in frustration. Once I turned around, Sophie retaliated by slamming her fairy cup into Emily’s forehead. Emily cried, Sophie timed out. I contemplated dousing the kids with water, as I do to the cats when they fight. I wrestled my bawling kids into the car to drive Sophie to camp. Along the way, my captive audience received a heated reprimand. “I don’t ever want to see that again. Sophie, I NEVER want to see you hitting Emily- and Emily, I NEVER EVER want to see you hit Sophie.” Sophie flatly replies, “Well, next time we do that, you shouldn’t be looking.”

———–

Today was Sophie’s year-end picnic at school. The weatherman predicted storms, but we enjoyed bright sunshine and the peal of  laughter as dozens of children ran willy-nilly all over the yard. I looked around the playground at the goodness of my family: Eric’s sister and mother, my little niece, and my mother were all present to celebrate the end of a good year with Sophie, Emily, Eric and me. All of us. Together. We are so blessed.

I came home from the picnic and created a celebration of the goodness God gives to us when we endure difficult things for His Glory. For me and my family, it has been a tough 5 years of wrestling with the incapacity of prolonged illness. I endured two rounds of life threatening pregnancy, fighting to save the lives of these precious girls while my family fought to save me. I recovered from delivery only to face the uncertainty of pancreatic cancer, but I am well now and we are all alive and well. Finally.

We will enjoy the fruits of our labor for the rest of our lives.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” Galatians 6:9

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Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child by Marc Weissbluth

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

If my girls had their way, breakfast would consist of cupcakes and chocolate milk. They wouldn’t nap. Bedtime would be whenever they passed out in front of the TV. Eventually CPS would take me in and all I’d have to say for myself was that I gave my girls everything they wanted. We’d all be a mess. No one would get anywhere, except maybe on the 5 o’clock news.

We all know we can’t parent like that. In fact, parents spend billions each year on products that we hope will encourage our children to reach their full potential. The irony is that we are so busy providing these little ones with books, activities, outings, classes, playgroups etc., we easily exhaust them. Without rest, a child can’t function, let alone remain alert enough to eat, learn, or play well through all of our well-intentioned plans. We need to start simple- by teaching them how to rest. It is a principle just as important to a healthy lifestyle as teaching them how to eat well. We don’t serve Snickers for dinner- we can’t let our kids whine their way out of a good night’s sleep. This book teaches exhausted parents how to do that very thing- from the day baby comes home until she reaches kindergarten.

I admit my kids don’t eat that well- but man, are they well-rested. Sure, they cried themselves to sleep for a few nights. I cringed in my room and made up for the distress by covering them in kisses as soon as they woke up. They know they are loved. They wake up beaming. Me too.

Read this book- and love your baby enough to teach her how to fall asleep and stay asleep by herself.

And don’t blog about sleep habits until midnight, dummy.
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