"What's up with people today, Mama?"

The other day my younger daughter happily and carefully picked out an outfit and accessories. She even snuck on a little make-up. I let the make-up slide even though normally it is only allowed for dress-up at home because it was just a bit of peach eye shadow and some lip gloss. She was feeling proud, fierce, beautiful. Her older sister barely brushed her hair and threw on soccer shorts, a Puma tee, and some running shoes. The younger sister was definitely winning the effort award for the day. Then we went out.

The exact outfit she wore: white shirt, pink blazer, silver necklace and broach, metallic silver fedora with pink bow, skinny jeans, black patent leather booties with metallic silver laces. She was so proud of this combo!

She walked into the doctor's office with confidence and was discouraged almost instantly. The nurse came out and looked at my two kids saying, "A girl and a boy? Yeah, boy. Right?" I corrected her calmly saying, "No, I have two daughters."  "Oh, I couldn't tell because of the hat."

Three more people, including the doctor, called her a boy before we left that office prompting her to sigh, roll her eyes, and whisper to me, "what's up with people today, Mama?" I don't know. I was baffled and tired of politely saying, "she's a girl," repeatedly. I had watched my little girl start the day with glee and confidence then watch it get chipped away. I saw her shrink back inside herself a little more with every comment until even the compliments she got at the end of her time at the doctor's, as we were riding the elevator down to the lobby and multiple people raved about her hat and her outfit in general, didn't bring a smile. So what can I do? What can she do? We joked about people now being open minded enough to assume boys wear pink blazers with silver necklaces and then got on with our day.

My daughter has had short hair since preschool, so she has had to deal with people mistaking her for a boy for the last four years (half of her life at this point). In the past, at her old school in a different state, the children who were confused about her gender acted on it with violence - shoving her, jabbing her with a pencil, knocking her to the ground. At her new school, and in Maryland in general, people tend to simply ask her, "are you a girl or a boy?" then they move on with their lives. She complains a bit about it being annoying to constantly tell people she is a girl (she gets called a boy or has someone ask her what she is almost daily), but she says she prefers them asking to making assumptions. Most importantly, she feels safe now going to school. A couple (literally just two) kids give her a hard time, but that is manageable and the good far out number the cranky. She works hard to shift her focus away from the negative people and onto the positive ones. She works hard to shake off the "what are you?" comments and focus on the "I like your style" comments instead. She works hard at staying true to herself and drawing on her inner strength every single day as she goes out into a world full of people who seem unable to look past the length of her hair. As her mom, I work hard to not go into mama-bear mode and yell at people or completely cocoon my baby to protect her from weird stares and random strangers in restrooms glaring at her saying, "why is that boy using the girls' room? Ugh!" She works hard and it gets understandably tiring and draining.

I am not telling her story because I want people to feel sorry for her or view her as a victim. She is a strong, tough cookie. She doesn't view herself as a victim. Plus, honestly, life is so much better for her now. The day at the doctor's office was annoying, but she no longer worries about her physical safety every day. She was able to leave her bullies behind when she moved out of Illinois, and she tries now to keep them in the past. When people talk about people who are being bullied or tell stories of others who were attacked on a regular basis for not conforming, for not being a Stepford wife, they aren't asking for pity.

Here, girls. Be like this and everyone will be nice to you. *eyeroll*

The request is that, as civilized people living on a planet full of people from many different cultures, religions, traditions, etc., we treat each other politely. This is not a matter of political correctness gone to the extreme. It is about common decency. It is about being honest about how people treat each other. Bullying in schools now is NOT the same as it was in the 1950s or even the 1980s. Adults struggle with shaking off negativity yet expect children to "shake it off" constantly - 24/7 (the internet makes sure no one can escape their tormentor even after they retreat home to their bedrooms). People put the guilt on the targets of the bullies. I have been told over and over and over again, "well if she just acted/looked more normal, they wouldn't pick on her. What do you expect?" Seriously? I should tell my daughters to ignore their personal tastes and just be clones of the people harassing them? And when the tastes of the harassers change, my daughters must change, too? Does that sound healthy? "If someone bullied my kid, I'd tell my kid to just punch them. That's how you stop a bully!" Seriously? So my kid will then get expelled from school? Violence is the first and only answer? Why don't we try the, "hey, everyone, let's stop being jerks to each other." I think that would be better. "Forcing me to be so PC all the time is like bullying. I'm sick of being told to not hurt other people's feelings." Seriously? Um, no. Someone asking to not be beaten up or have people tell them they are worthless on a daily basis is not bullying. Someone asking to be treated like a fellow human being with feelings and value is fair. This is not about political correctness; it is about loving our neighbors as ourselves . . .  or at least not trying to make them think their lives are worth less than ours.

My point in writing this is to ask people to think about two things.

• First, let's think about how we are defining genders and how we pass those gender expectations on to our kids. The kids who were harassing my daughter had picked up on strict gender norms from their parents, the adults they interacted with, and the subtle messages they picked up from the world around them (like gender defining signs in toy stores). Are we accepting gender as a minor defining feature of ourselves and others or is it a limiting factor? Are we viewing gender as a spectrum or polar opposites with no flexibility? And what the heck does hair length have to do with any of it anyway? 
• Secondly, let's think about how we talk about other people, to their faces or behind their backs. Are we talking about physically hurting people just because they are different? Are we saying people who disagree with us are losers or idiots or stupid? And are we supporting or cheering for people who are mean, insulting, or use violence as a first option? Kids pick up on that and bring those attitudes to school. Between the 1980s and now, the level of snarkiness in schools spiked and the extremes people are now willing to go to in order to prove another person is less than them is astounding. Blaming the targets, calling them weak, is wrong. We need to nip our snark in the bud and raise children who choose kindness over insults. Let's raise children who know that their value does not depend on others being below them. Let's raise children who know that diversity strengthens a society.

 Let's raise children who can ask, "what's your gender?" then follow it up with, "wanna play?" That's my point.

“Mom, please, can I watch Queen now? You know, the fun one?”

Fandoms are fun!

OK, I admit inside I did do a Mommy Victory Dance of Joy when my daughter reqested I put on the Bohemian Rhapsody music video. As much as I want my girls to be themselves, have their own tastes, explore their personalities and feel free to have opinions which differ from mine or my husband’s, part of me really dreads the idea of them crying and screaming over pop singers like Justin Bieber or whoever else is out there (I’m really trying to not know). I remember thinking the girls around me who were losing their minds over New Kids on the Block were slightly nuts, and then as a mom hearing about girls physically harming themselves over that Bieber kid just made me eeek a bit. Don’t get me wrong, I love fun fandoms and being enthusiastic about stuff (this Simon Pegg quote is on our fridge), but I think enthusiasm and obsession are two very different things. And I think there is a difference between blind adoration and gleeful admiration.

So what do I do to try to counter the strangely obsessive pop culture stuff the girls encounter when they get to school? On weekends and in the mornings, I blast MY music at them (insert evil laugh). They do have their own CD player in their room and their own CDs – older one’s fave is her Taylor Swift Red CD and younger one loves her Everly Brothers – and they do have their own playlist on my phone which includes the Frozen soundtrack, but I admit to trying to teach them there is more music out there. When I was a kid, I listened to my parents’ favorites which was a lot of Beatles. I think that’s a great place to start. In Ukraine, that was all I played on my phone during our down time, and my daughter learned a lot of their songs. I also listened to Guns and Roses, Amy Grant, and Dead Milkmen when I was in elementary school. A bit of an eclectic mix, and I’m really not sure Dead Milkmen are entirely appropriate, so I might hold off on them (although I do still listen to them as a guilty pleasure occasionally).

In the mornings, while we are getting ready, I put on Pandora. Last year it was the Cat Stevens station.

So nice and chill! What a nice way to start the day. This year, I decided to boost the energy level a bit, so we switched to the Queen station. The girls LOVED it. I like to use weekends to push my own agendas (also known as parenting), so I spent a day just playing Queen songs and watching Queen videos on YouTube and talking about why Freddie Mercury was awesome. It was a really fun day. The girls were learning life lessons and how to head bang and insulting my hair (my hair naturally looks like Brian May's at its fluffiest), and I was getting bounce around like a doof and giggle and play with my kids. So what are the great lessons that can be learned from spending a day with Queen?

1. If you are passionate about something, do that. Queen had a passion for music and creating new, cool songs together. Freddie Mercury had a passion for writing and singing. When the girls learned that he was singing right up until he died, they were impressed.
2. If you have a talent, use it ALL. One of the girls favorite songs is Bohemian Rhapsody. They love how it sounds like so many pieces all in one. They also thought it was cool how not all the Queen songs over the years sounded alike. There is a variety of sounds and styles. When they learned the songs were written by the band members and they each had different tastes, but they agreed to use and appreciate the talents of everyone, the girls thought that was really cool. Talent wasn’t wasted. It was stretched.
3. You don’t have to like everything about someone or know every detail to listen to or like their music. Ok, so this isn’t strictly Queen related, but it is important. Do I want my girls to imitate everything Queen or any other rock band did? Of course not! Although, the part about getting a degree in physics like Brian May can be imitated with my blessing. Liking a band does not mean memorizing every fact about them and shouldn’t. I like Ani DiFranco, but I have no idea when her birthday is. How does that change how her music makes me feel? Also, fans don’t need to prove themselves by trying to become in every way the people they are listening to. The girls can bounce around to Radio Ga Ga without needing to also get drunk in a bar in London. I like when there are some admirable qualities, of course, and those are what I focus on when I talk to the girls (physics degree, use of talent, camaraderie, creativity, etc), but everyone has flaws and makes mistakes. We talk about the flaws and learn from them, too, so we DON’T imitate those parts. Mostly, though, we talk about the music and enjoy it and live our own lives, because frankly we are awesome as is. The girls know the name of Freddie Mercury and that is pretty much all the Queen trivia they can give you. Everything else was broad strokes: they wrote their own songs, there were four of them, Freddie died after he got HIV, Crazy Little Thing Called Love was written in the bath tub (ok, that's specific, but funny so totally worth knowing).
4. It’s ok to get pumped up about yourself. I love listening to Queen in the morning because I like the idea of sending my girls to school singing “We will ROCK YOU!” I want them pumped up about themselves and about life. I want them to celebrate their successes and be proud of themselves. I want them to feel like they can conquer the world. One thing we talked about was the difference in the messages of the songs. They weren’t all about dating or hooking up or breaking up. There were songs about simply kicking butt and being awesome. That, I think, is a good thing to have as a background soundtrack for a fourth grader.

If my daughters don’t like my same music, that’s fine. I assume they won’t like all the same things as me, but I can still expose them to it and talk to them about it. I can still try to teach them there is a world bigger than what they see and hear at the lunch table. And I can explain that they will most likely never marry a pop star, so devoting all their time, energy, and money to obsessing over one is not healthy. It is much healthier to just rock out and be awesome for themselves. So this is how I’m parenting in the mornings, and I’m having a good time empowering my girls, so don’t stop me now. (And, yes, this is my personal Mom Theme Song.)

People are Annoying.

Me: How was school, Yasya?
Yasya: People are annoying and they are killing my brain. 

I know I should discourage the negativity, but, good grief it is so true. And so hard to deny. And probably my biggest challenge as a mom. Deep down inside, I am Wednesday Addams. As a kid, I identified with her more than anyone else. I didn't like socializing or people. I made sure there was at least some bit of black in my clothes everyday even if it was just Mickey Mouse’s ears. My inner monologue is still all in her voice. Or if you want to get more modern, you can put in April Ludgate. Either way, it is not a bubbly voice. And I have been accused of being too sarcastic. As an adult who moves around in society and used to work with teens, that wasn’t always so good. I mean, to a certain extent, it worked (teens and kids in general usually prefer honest people who are a little dark to overly bubbly people who are clearly trying too hard), but at some point it is good to stop and try to be cheerful. *sigh*

So I have tried to grow and adapt. Here comes the debate. Does trying to act nice and cheerful even though I am Wednesday Ludgate inside make me a phony? Or does it mean I am trying to evolve as a person and adapt to different situations as needed? When I was a retreat leader, this topic would come up periodically. Not that we were talking about me, but we would talk about how we acted in different situations. Do people act differently at school than at home or work, for example. If we think about all the environments we pass through in a week – home with kids, home with spouse, playdates, school, work, church, grocery shopping, library, etc – it is pretty clear that identical behavior in each of those environments would not be appropriate. If I talked to my husband the same way I talked to my daughters, he’d get pretty annoyed (I know this from experience). Similarly, if I acted the same now in my thirties as a mom as I did as a dark teen hating everyone, that would be . . . sad. Ideally, people grow as they age. And I don't mean fatter.

Also, as a parent, I need to think about the long term affect of my actions. How I talk to my children and how they see me interacting with others will to some extent shape how they interact with others. I want my children to be slightly less dark and gloomy, so I do try to focus on the positive with them. Normally, I avoid asking, “how was school?” It leaves the door open for negative answers. Normally I ask for best things of the day or who the girls played with or what was the most interesting thing they learned. At dinner, all of us have to say what the best thing of the day was. On my super grumpy days, that is really hard for me. Sometimes I have to bite my tongue to avoid saying, “I didn’t stab anyone today.” For my older daughter, the sunshiney stuff seems much more natural. For my younger daughter and myself, it is a skill we have to practice daily and really work on consciously. That's part of why I named my Etsy shop HAPPY Walrus instead of Morose Walrus. There is joy around me as long as I keep looking for it (and sometimes the joy comes in the shape of The Addams Family or Tim Burton movies or super dark humor shared with my younger daughter). On bad days, like the day my daughter said the annoying people were killing her brain, we did talk about all that negative stuff. I want to be clear about that. Focusing on the positive does NOT mean ignoring the negative or shoving it in a closet. She vented and ate Oreos, and we talked about actions to take in the future.

I am still true to myself and have my pretty little skulls and bats decorating our apartment, my sarcasm does show up sporadically (though not to the point of making people cry), and I still have a mostly black wardrobe including skeleton boots I wear all year, however it isn’t overwhelming. My hope is that by focusing on the positive, I can gradually shift my own inner monologue a bit, too. People are annoying, but I do have to live around them and interact with them. I can choose to be constantly annoyed by them, or I can – reluctantly – try to change my attitude. When I go out, I have some friends who are my Wednesday Ludgate friends, but my other friends are needed to balance that out and remind me that sometimes talking to people about things isn’t so bad. The world needs Leslie Knopes, too. Hopefully my kids will be able to grow into Leslie Ludgates. The annoying people won’t stop asking, “are you a boy? Are you sure?” or “Where did you get her from?” (referring to my daughter who I got from my uterus and what kind of normal person asks that question, seriously?) or refusing to use turn signals, but we can learn to smile despite – or in spite of -  them. Then paint our nails black and eat some waffles.

What can I say? We look good in black.

Warning: Unsolicited Parenting Advice

As soon as I found out I was pregnant with my older daughter, the parenting advice started flooding in. It came from family members, doctors, friends, coworkers (including one who advised me to get a monkey), strangers once I started showing, and of course the bazillion books and magazines out there. Some was great and some was rubbish. Was it annoying getting tons of it? Yup. Did it ever stop? Nope. It lightens up, though. Or maybe I just stopped paying attention to a lot of it. I am grateful for it (well, some). Being a mom is great, but it is tricky and is a constant – CONSTANT – learning process. I still read parenting blogs and talk to other parents and people who spend time with kids to get tips or insights from them. Each of my girls is totally different, so what worked with the first doesn’t really work with the second, plus as they grow, their needs change. I want to be a good mom which to me means being open to learning from others. I am a bit amazed by the moms who reject all advice, claim they know more than their kids’ teachers or pediatricians, and that they would never ever read a single parenting book or magazine. Getting pregnant is (for some) natural and easy (and fun), but the raising of kids requires a bit more finesse, hard work, research, and often trial and error learning. I don’t want my kids to just stay alive; I want them to thrive. I assume my friends do, too. A lot of my friends are just starting their families, and based on their facebook posts and pinterest pins, they are already starting the Mommy stressing and researching and learning. Like I said, I’m still a student, but here are some things I’ve picked up along the way over the last nine years that seem to work with my girls.

Trust your gut. This was the first and best piece of parenting advice I ever got (from my own mom). It applies to everything. As long as I stay in tune with my girls, if I trust my gut, it steers me in the right direction and helps me know what advice to take and what advice to ignore. There is way too much advice out there, so this is the one every mom needs. If you follow everything, you’ll go nuts. Know your kid and trust your gut. If your gut says something is wrong, fight to make it right. Just because a book says you should do something one way doesn’t mean you have to if you feel that is wrong. Like the whole tiger mom thing. Not gonna do that. Or eating my placenta. My gut just says no to that one. May be great for some, but not for me. Sorry.

Dishes can wait. My husband hates going to bed with dirty dishes in the sink, but I have learned the world doesn’t stop spinning and CPS doesn’t break down the door if that happens. Sometimes it is more important for me to spend extra time cuddling the girls than standing at the sink. The dishes can wait, but a daughter can’t. Eventually dishes get done obviously, but some nights they don’t. I feel the same way about laundry and vacuuming, but draw the line at anything that stinks. Kitty litter and garbage have to go no matter what. Sorry, sweetie.

this is me NOT doing the dishes

Pick your battles really is good advice.  Really. I love when my friends without kids complain about other people’s kids and tell me how they would make their kids behave. Um, it doesn’t work like that. Kids are little humans with their own opinions. About everything. EVERYTHING. And as they get older, they will want to have some say in their lives. Makes sense. As a mom, I can’t control everything my kids do, and frankly I don’t want to. I do stand my ground on certain things, though, and I am consistent about it (well, I try to be). My younger daughter still tries to fight me on everything, but knows which battles she’ll lose at least going in. Here’s my list of  ten nonnegotiable rules (and, yes, I use the word nonnegotiable):

1. wear what you want as long as it is weather appropriate, clean, and reflects a certain amount of pride in yourself (dress for the job you want to have mentality)
2. everyone must eat and sugar from the sugar bowl and grapes off the floor don’t count as food
3. help your sister – even if she is being annoying

   

   help your sister help the early homonid

4. personal hygiene is also a must
5. physical violence against others and oneself are unacceptable
6. there is a limit to the amount of non-intelligent tv anyone can watch (some days that limit is 0 minutes)
7. no clapping when Mommy has a migraine
8. don’t let people see your underwear
9. don’t spit at your teacher (ok, that was really my dad’s nonnegotiable rule, but I got so used to always hearing it that I started always saying it, so now it is our rule, too)
10. a duck is not a weapon (we even have this printed as a sign in our house . . . really) 

    

    Proof. There's the sign. People ask why we have it.
    Because it needed to be said.

Before your baby is born, or at least as soon as possible, decide on the key goals so you and your partner will be on the same page. My husband and I are different people (shocking). We interact with the girls differently. We don’t do anything the same way. Before our older daughter was born, though, we did sit down to talk about what we wanted for her. We made some broad goals (you may already know about my preference for broad goals versus specific ones) and we have stuck to them. By having those in mind, we may have different paths but we have the same destination. Here are our key goals for our girls:

celebrating Ukrainian Independence Day

1. broad world view We want them to know that the world extends beyond their town. That means traveling, learning about geography, and learning a foreign language. It isn’t too tricky considering each of their parents is from a different a different country and has a different native language.
2. respect others Even if people are different, they should still be treated with respect.
3. knowledge is a good thing We want the girls to thirst for knowledge not to fear it or distrust it. We want them to be constantly learning, enjoy learning, see the value in learning, and appreciate their teachers. We don’t want them to glorify ignorance in any form.
4. know that they are loved Above all, we want them to know that we love them. A cool bonus has been the outpouring of love from other people the girls have gotten. We figure the more people who love our kids, the better. That just builds a stronger harbor for them to set sail from.

Keep your own sanity by not turning the world into Babyville. When Sofi was a baby, I felt my brain turning into mush just from the little bit of time spent watch Teletubbies with her in the mornings after breakfast. I knew I would lose my mind if I had to spend all day doing only things geared towards babies or speaking baby talk. I just couldn’t do it. Plus, at that time she was one of the only people around who understood English (we were living in Ukraine). Because of my migraines, tv is a part of our lives, but that doesn’t mean that tv has to be annoying kids’ shows. There are a lot of documentaries that are kid friendly and a lot of kid shows which are intelligent and not too annoying. When my girls do watch cartoons (summer and Saturday mornings), it is only PBS Kids. Family movie nights are usually documentaries or nonfiction shows. Because that is what the girls are used to, that is what they look forward to. We all like it. The shows are exciting and fun, and we all learn a lot together. The girls have fun picking topics, and I have fun learning along with them. Sure, as a result my kids don’t understand their classmates’ obsession with Justin Bieber, but they do know who Albert Einstein is and think Ada Lovelace is pretty awesome.

Also, my husband and I didn’t use baby talk with them a lot. I mean, we did sometimes because we are human and the girls were insanely cute babies and it was impossible to resist, but we also would just have normal conversations with them. Before I became a stay at home mom, I was a retreat leader, so I was used to spending all day talking to groups of teens. It was hard for me to stop. I just kept going with the girls. During meals, I would talk to the girls about all sorts of stuff whether or not they could actually talk back (the younger one didn’t really speak English until she was about three and then needed speech therapy to really clear it up which wasn’t until she was four) which made the conversations one sided for a while, but now they are fun.

I watch the news each day to keep up to date on the world outside my family; I make sure to talk to other adults whenever possible even if just via facebook; I read books that have absolutely nothing to do with being a mom; I talk to my husband about his day and his job, too. All these things help me to remember that, even though they are the center of my universe, the girls are not the entire universe. It would be so easy to just focus on the girls all day, but I feel like I would lose a bit of me if that happened. Plus, as they get older, I have more time to spend doing my own stuff again. It is good to stay in touch so I can ease back into the non-Sofi/Yasya world when they don’t need me so full time.

Laugh. A lot. Parenting is hard. The stress and pressure and sleep deprivation and financial strain and constancy of it can get to you. So remember to laugh. When I remember to laugh, it is all worth it. That’s why I have pictures of my kids and their art everywhere. I look at them and smile and feel less tired. That is why I try to just keep my facebook statuses as their silliness to remind me of how much fun I am actually having. Really, most of the time, being with them is joy. Sometimes, it isn’t, to be honest. Sometimes all moms worry so much and get so overwhelmed we cry and call our sisters for help or just to vent. Then we look at those pretty blue eyes and remember Yasya saying, “you should wear blue socks with pink cowgirl boots because somewhere pink and blue flowers might exist and that would be pretty, you know.” And then it’s all worth it.

This is how most of the time is. The yucky crying, stressing, fighting time really is much less but can feel like more if I forget to focus on the laughter.

"What's today's adventure?"

Not to sound too morbid, but we don't really know how much time we have. We do know our time as children is limited for sure. Thinking that way, it just makes sense to try to enjoy each day and have adventures whenever and where ever possible. Expanding on this idea of finding and appreciating experiences, here are a few simple ways to make anything a fun adventure.

Take out the coin,
but leave the map in your pocket.

Get lost. This is not as scary as it may seem. Thanks to cell phones with GPS, we can never get too lost. We do like having a good wander, though. One way we like to wander is by letting a coin toss choose our directions. When we come to an intersection, we flip a coin to decide which way to go. One side is left and one side is right. It is a totally random form of navigating, and it leads us to some pretty cool discoveries. We play this game at the zoo to lead us to new animal discoveries or when we just want to have a wander around DC. This brought us to a cool sculpture garden one day. Who knows if we ever would have chosen that on our own, but it was really neat, and the girls remember it as their discovery.

Become a photojournalist for a day. The girls become much more interested in finding the cool things around them when they are holding cameras. Instead of whining about where they wish they were or what they wish they were seeing, they start looking for the value in the present moment. They have friends and cousins scattered all over, so there is always an excuse to document what's around us. "Take pictures to show *insert name* what *insert location* is like." When we get home, we can relive the adventure by sorting through the pictures, picking the best ones, then printing and sending them off with letters to loved ones.

Photos my daughter took on her adventures. The white squirrel was an extra fun find.

Collect facts. This works best when we go to museums. The girls each bring a notebook and pen then try to collect as many new facts as they can. When they see something interesting, they write it down or draw a picture of it. Then on the way home, they share what they learned.

Make up biographies. Even adults have trouble enjoying waiting. A lot of life is waiting, though, so we might as well have fun with it. Whether we are waiting for the Metro or the plane or for the movie to start, we can still come up with a way to be aware of what is around us and enjoy it. Look around at all the other people. Pick one and create a biography of them. Where are they going? Why are they here? Create whole stories about them. Every person has a story, and it is important to remember that. Playing this game not only keeps everyone occupied and paying attention, it also serves as a reminder that all those people buzzing around us are humans with lives and feelings and stories, too.

Anything can be an adventure as long as we approach it with the right attitude, keep our eyes open, and enjoy life while we can.

"Mommy, I play hockey!"

The other day someone said to me, “Oh, our little girl will never play hockey.  Her daddy would never let her do that!”  Now, I know not every little girl will be a hockey player, but to me it was a bit baffling to hear someone completely rule it out as an option before their daughter is even two.  I asked, “But what if she wants to?” The other mom smiled and said, “No, really, her daddy will not let her play hockey.” 

My daughter does play hockey (as have many other daughters for a long time including Lord Stanley's daughters as well as a whole Olympic team of daughters), so this seemed like a strange line to draw.  There are some negatives – rinks are cold places to have to spend hours each week, it’s an aggressive sport with lots of crashing into each other, the gear and fees are not cheap, it’s a huge time commitment once they get to the travel teams (but thankfully my princess is still doing in-house).  But those same things are true for most activities.  Overall, I have learned to love hockey.  I see how much joy it brings my daughter and the ways it has helped her off the ice. 

 

Our happy little four year old princess loved to skated along the
center the line, back and forth, during free time.

She started skating lessons when she was three because she demanded it (she knows what she likes).  She would pretend to skate everywhere yelling to me, “Mommy, I want to skate!”  She would take whatever she could find and swing at invisible pucks.  “Mommy, I play hockey!”  So we got her in mom-and-tot skating classes which were an absolute joke because I can’t skate to save my life!  As a kid, I dabbled in ballet, gymnastics (very briefly), and modeling (through my teen years).  Yeah, I can’t skate.  When she was four I very happily moved her to the hockey basic skills classes, and she has never looked back.

Me doing what I do best - sitting and smiling
and not participating in sports.

See how serious he was?
Good luck getting him to dance now!

Her daddy’s only fear for her when she started hockey was how damaging the competitive nature of the sport would be.  He grew up in the Soviet Union and was put in competitive ballroom dancing as a kid.  The super strict competitive atmosphere was pretty traumatic.  Less than perfect children were ostracized severely.  When he saw the coaches laughing with Sofi and patting her on the back when she improved, patiently encouraging her when she struggled with a skill, he relaxed and said she could keep going.

I know some parents start choosing sports or activities for their children before they are born, buying cute tiny catcher mitts or ballet shoes, planning lives filled with activities.  When she was born, we weren’t sure our daughter even had any life ahead of her at all.  She was as close to dead as a baby can be.  I didn’t even get to see her in person until she was a day old because they were working so hard just to get her stabilized.  She proved she is a tough cookie by beating the odds and smashing through every obstacle in record time.  We want her to have a great life now that she has worked so hard to have one at all!

At this point, who cares what sports they grow up to play
as long as they get a chance to grow up!

So why do we let our precious pretty-pretty-princess play hockey?  Other than the fact that she loves it and really wants to? 

• Being in a team sport teaches her to think beyond herself and to see how her actions affect the success of others.  When she works hard and plays her best, her team does well.  When she doesn’t pay attention or turns into “blombie” (her dad’s name for our blond zombie), she doesn’t guard the net and doesn’t pass the puck to her teammates to help them score so her team suffers.
• Hockey teaches her to accept responsibility for her actions and also gives her new responsibilities similar to ones she will face later in life.  She must keep track of her gear.  If she forgets her stick or water bottle, that’s on her just like if I forget my wallet or phone that’s on me. 
• She also knows she isn’t alone in her battles.  When things get tough, she has a whole group of guys behind her, watching her back and cheering her on.  When they played against an overly aggressive team and a kid started saying, “girls can’t play hockey,” my daughter’s teammates jumped to her defense and loudly spoke up for her. 
• She is learning that not everything is easy at first, so sometimes she needs to put in extra effort before she sees results.  A lot of things just come easily for her.  She picks up on stuff pretty quickly.  When she doesn’t, she can get thrown for a loop and get discouraged.  When that happens, we remind her about crossovers, a hockey skill that she struggled with at first but now has no problems doing.  She says, “Oh, yeah, I had to practice and it took a while for me to learn that.”  Taking time to learn things is ok.  Giving up when she isn’t perfect right off the bat is not.  Thankfully none of her coaches or teammates has ever demanded instant perfection.  They all recognize success and identify weak areas as areas to work on in a productive manner.
• Hockey reinforces the lessons she learns in health class.  If she doesn’t eat enough before hockey, she is hungry and sluggish.  If she doesn’t bring her water bottle and stay hydrated, she feels sick.  She tries to stay in shape year round and eat healthy so she can be the best hockey player during hockey season.  That kind of self discipline will benefit her her whole life!

As I have said before, if we had limited our daughter to things we have experience with or things American society has labeled as girlie, life would be pretty boring.  We love watching our daughter flourish and grow in her chosen sport. We love seeing how it is helping her become a stronger person both physically and mentally.  We love learning all about a new sport and meeting new, interesting people through it.  We don’t know what will happen in the future, but for now we are happy hockey parents.

Playing in the backyard with her little sister (who doesn't skate at all).

“Mom, I am glad I am one of a kind. I am unique.”

first day smiles

This week my girls headed back to school.  After all the drama and tears of the past couple years, I was prepared to be putting my older daughter on the bus with a lump in my throat, worrying about all the “what ifs” that came true in the past – kids teasing her for playing hockey or liking science, girls refusing to sit with her at lunch because she wasn’t girly enough, boys refusing to play with her because she is a girl, and on and on.  Imagine the relief I felt then when, the day before school started up again, she told me she was excited about the new year and said, “Mom, I am glad I am one of a kind.  I am unique.”

Where had this newfound strength come from?  This is the same girl who just a couple months ago was shyly snuggled next to me on a park bench saying she was afraid to approach the other kids because they might not accept her.  This is the same girl who cried after school on a regular basis because of how the other kids were treating her.  Somehow, seemingly overnight, she had changed.  After putting her on the bus and watching her eagerly wave good-bye to me, I had time to sit alone and think about it all.  Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle started to drift together.  She gained confidence in herself and an appreciation for her uniqueness because of the strength of others, because people spoke up when they saw her being her. 

At the start of the summer, she was still feeling very down about herself and hesitant to try to form relationships with other kids.  When we went to Ukraine, she stayed glued to my side at first.  We would sit at the playground and watch the other kids running around.  I would urge her to introduce herself, but she would bury her head under my arm and say, “what if they are mean to me?  What if they don’t like me? What if they are like the kids at school?”  

Thankfully, there was another person there.  My husband’s cousin quietly praised her.  She invited her to go places and then bragged about her to others.  That little nudge was enough to get my daughter off the park bench.  If a cool medical school student thought she was not all bad, maybe the kids at the park might be ok with her.  They were.  Of course, not all of them clicked with her, but a group did, and the ones who didn’t just left her alone.  The ones who did, the boys who bucked tradition and ran around playing with the little blond girl, gave her the next nudge of confidence.

This is what support looks like.

The adults we have been lucky enough to surround our daughters with are incredible.  Instead of calling her weird or ignoring her, they have been very vocal cheerleaders for her.  That is critically important because praise coming just from me, her mom, doesn’t mean as much as praise from other people.  My praise is important and necessary, but not the same.  I can rave about the virtues of being a geek and cover the fridge with Simon Pegg quotes until I am blue in the face, but that is just laying a foundation.  The powerful building up comes from others.  When someone else says she is amazing BECAUSE she loves science or BECAUSE she plays hockey, that is powerful.  When someone invites her to their wedding and praises her crazy dance skills, that is powerful. When someone sends her a video like this one and tells her she should stay true to herself because that is what will make her happy as an adult, that is powerful. 

As adults and as parents, we often want to heap praise on our own kids.  Of course we do.  They are our perfect babies.  It is important to also recognize the value of praise from other people, though, too.  We must be those other people.  We must remember to recognize the good in other children in addition our own.  Just by simply saying, “I like the way you do that,” we might be the person nudging them a little out of self doubt and onto the playground.

To all the people nudging my daughter, thank you.  Really.  Truly.  Sincerely.  Please stay in her life and watch her grow as a result.

“Mama, you have to do whatever God says. But I don’t. I can make my own decisions.”

We are Catholics.  I grew up Catholic, worked as a Catholic retreat leader for three years after college, and now volunteer with youth ministry (religious education for middle school and high school) plus the parish council at our church.  My daughters have both been in religious education since they were three in addition to annual Vacation Bible School at our church.  But it doesn’t seem to be sticking in my six year old’s mind quite the same way as her older sister. 

For example, the other day in the car, my younger daughter Yasya was worried about her blintzes surviving.  After checking and seeing they were ok, she sighed, “Thank God!”  Her older sister was shocked and appalled.  “You can’t say that! You can only say ‘God’ if you are praying!”  To which Yasya replied, “it’s ok.  I wasn’t talking about your God.  I was thanking a different God.”  Hmm…

Another time she referred to God as the alien in her bedroom who tells her she must eat cookies to survive.  At Vacation Bible School when all the kids were supposed to yell, "Trust God!" she yelled, "Trust Kirk!" In preschool, she would talk about God as her religion teacher’s imaginary friend.

Because I know her religion teachers, and I have seen first hand how they teach and what they teach, I know her personal theology is not a result of them.  For one thing, she and her older sister both had the same teacher for two years – just with very different results.  And I know that neither my husband nor I refer to God as an alien in our bedroom, so she didn’t get that from us (honestly!).  At the end of the day, this is 100% Yasya.

With my older daughter in front of the church we named her after - St Sofia's

Yasya’s theology may worry her sister (who was named after a church, accompanied me on many retreats as a newborn, took her first steps in a church, and who we refer to as our little theologian), but – truly – I am not concerned.  I am kind of amused, but not at all worried about the future state of her soul.  I am more concerned about the people who ask me about her as if I should be worried.  Do they really think her ideas at six will define her ideas as an adult?

Here is what I have learned about theology and spirituality from talking to literally thousands of people about their spiritual journeys over the years and from working with dozens of Catholic parishes and schools.  Our faith at six is not the same as our faith at sixty-six.  Everything evolves.  Right now, whether she knows it or not, all her religious education classes, mealtime prayers, little conversations, masses, etc. are seeds being planted in her brain.  As she grows up and experiences life more, those seeds will be fertilized in different ways.  They will grow and develop in a personal way for her.  She will come to know God in a way which is meaningful for her (even if it makes no sense to her sister).  As her mother, I will continue to try to surround her with people who set good examples for her, and I will continue to take her with me to church and be open about my faith with her. But I will not expect her to be me. 

At the retreat center where I worked, we had shag carpeting everywhere.  Really.  It was on the floors, up the walls, even covering the end tables.  One of the things we would tell the students was that God was like that carpeting.  As individual humans, our understanding was like one strand of that carpet.  As we talked to others with open hearts and minds, our understanding could grow to be a square inch.  But that didn’t mean we were seeing the whole picture or that our understanding was the only truth.  I look forward to continuing the discussion with my daughters, hearing their experiences and their beliefs, and letting mine grow.

My older daughter happily, eagerly, reverently made her First Communion this year.

"Mama, I need my wings."

Daughter: "Mama, I need my wings."

Me, pointing to the wings right next to me: "They're right there."

Daughter: "No.  My OTHER wings."

Me: "Oh.  Those are in your bin under your Darth Vader mask."

the girls in their favorite outfits

Ah, yes.  Time to get dressed.  While one has a fit if I give her a skirt, the other is having a fit if I don’t.  On days like this, days when I know the farthest we will be going from our house is the backyard, I admit I give up the battle.  You want to be a fairy today?  Fine.  You want to wear the same t shirt you wore yesterday because it is your new most favorite-est shirt you have ever owned in the entire history of owning shirts?  Fine.

Dress? Not likely.

One thing I love about talking to new parents is their optimistic belief that they will be able to control what their kids wear.  Trying to hold in the laughs, I listen to them explain to me how their little perfect child will never wear pink or glittery jeans or tomboy clothes or mismatched socks or whatever they have decided is just unacceptable.  Even the tiny baby in their arms looks at them like, “ha!  Sure, Mom.  Just wait until I decide I will love monster trucks and sequins!”

Here’s the reality.  Kids will be exposed to way more than just their parents.  They will meet other kids, will walk past displays of random items, will get hand-me-downs from kids with different tastes.  Sure, we’re the primary agents of socialization, we do the most to define normal for them, we buy the majority of their clothes, and we have access to the dumpster if we really hate something.  But we also are the ones who will be tired in the mornings, decide it is more important to get to the doctor’s office on time than wrestle a screaming kid into an outfit she hates, and most importantly, we are the ones who – hopefully – love our children for who they are.  That means loving them when they have the Darth Vader mask on or the fairy wings or the nasty jean shorts with ugly t shirt.

Spock ears match everything.

I still buy for my girls outfits I like and think are cute and that MATCH (really match . . . not “stripes match stripes, right?”), but I have accepted that my girls have their own identities and opinions, and some day soon I won’t get to play dress up with them any more.  We have a system for outfits to keep mornings smoother.  As I fold the laundry, I grab seven complete outfits with underwear and socks and put them in a hanging cubby thing in the closet.  Theoretically, everyday they pick one of the preassembled outfits.  "Theoretically" I say as I smile while folding the adorable Gymboree outfit (with matching hair bows, of course), and watch my daughters run out the door wearing the shorts from the resale shop with a hand-me-down White Sox tee and a torn fairy princess costume.  In the end, having my kids know who they are and feel comfortable in their own skins is way more important to me than what the neighbor might think about their fashion sense.

I said, "Get dressed and play outside."  This is what they put on.

Quick and Easy Fix

Shoe tying is a big milestone.  It is one of the big boxes to check off on the kindergarten "to learn" list.  But then, meh, it kinda just slows us down.  My older daughter is always on the go, rushing out the door to get to school, church, hockey, or just to play outside.  She rarely bothers untying her shoes so she can just skip the retying part.  The problem is cramming her foot back into a gym shoe with tied laces.  It's kind of funny watching her hop and skip out the door trying to get her heel all the way in, but there is an easier way.  Just turn her gym shoes into slip ons.

The easiest way to get around the shoe laces is to turn them into elastic.  The elastic stretches to allow the foot to slide in, then retracts to keep the shoe snug on the foot.  It is a quick and easy fix requiring just a package of 1/4 inch elastic and a pair of scissors (oh, and shoes).

Start near the toe and thread a bit of the elastic down through the grommet.  Tie a knot to lock it in place.  Then go down through the opposite grommet, up through the one above, down through the opposite, and so on (ladder lacing).  When you get to the top and come down through the last grommet, pull the elastic a bit tight and tie another knot (you need to pull it tight so you have the space to work with for the knot tying . . . it should be relaxed but not lose once the knot is against the grommet).  Then slip the shoes on to test for fit.  If they are too lose or too tight simply adjust your final knot then trim the excess.  See how easy?

 

 

 

 

 

"I don't want to go to school."

Argh.  I am feeling really annoyed.  This morning, my usually chipper, happy, outgoing older daughter didn’t want to go to school.  It is Tuesday, so it isn’t part of her sleeping late on Mondays and Fridays thing.  I asked her about it and kept pushing, not satisfied with her mumbled, “I just don’t feel like it,” answers.  Finally it came out.  She was nervous about some bullies.  A few months ago, one of them punched her.  Her school handled it fairly very well.  The vice principal herself stepped in and mediated a discussion between Sofi and the bully, and promised to keep an eye on the situation.  Sofi, at the time, said she felt the vice principal took her seriously and she was satisfied with how it was handled.  But she is still nervous.  That punch really shook her.  It shook me.  She is in first grade and should not be worried about getting punched at school.  She also said those bullies – who are in second grade – have been teasing her about her new shoes.  She is a very active girl who loves running all the time.  When she outgrew her old gym shoes, I took her to the store to pick out a new pair.  Her main concern was that they be FAST.  We looked through the entire “girl” section, but there was only one pair of running shoes, and they weren’t in her size.  All the other shoes were either dress shoes, tall boots, clogs, or Keds style tennis shoes with sparkles on them.  We decided to move on to another store, but on our way out we passed the “boy” section.  She saw a pair of orange and black running shoes with Velcro and flashing lights.  She was so excited!  She tried on a pair and ran up and down the aisle.  “These are super fast!”  So we bought them and she was thrilled.  As soon as we got home, she put them on and ran around the dining room table showing them off.  She couldn’t wait to wear them to school and run around the playground with her friends.  Now she is sad about them because of the older boys taunting her.

So what can we do?  I can’t go to school with her and yell at those kids for making my daughter sad.  I can’t pull her out of school and keep her home alone, locked away from the mean kids forever.  And I don’t want to tell her she has to ignore her own taste and just do what society and the mean kids deem acceptable.  Lucky for my daughter, her grandmother writes books about teaching children to be peacemakers and she advocates for anti-bullying issues (through PFLAG and Illinois Safe Schools Alliance).  So we have some tools available to help guide her through this.  A friend of mine who is an educator and mother shared this resource with me as well.

The first obstacle was finding out about the problem.  She was ashamed and didn’t want to talk about it.  When I was in school, I didn’t want to talk about the bullying I went through, either.  The bullies make us feel ashamed and try to take away our pride.  We don’t want to repeat what they say because what if the person we are talking to agrees with them?  But now we know what is going on, or at least part of it, so we can move forward.

This morning we talked about things she can say when the bullies make fun of her shoes.  She settled on, “Why do you care?” as her choice comeback.  We also talked about the power she does have.  She has the power to walk away.  It is a big school with lots of other kids.  If one kid doesn’t like her, she can walk away and find another one to play with.  She doesn’t need to play with the mean kids.  If the bullies keep harassing her, she has advocates.  She can talk to her teacher or find the vice principal who helped her before.  It is a large school, but it has committed educators and administrators who will take her seriously.  Two of the teachers there are friends of ours from church, so my daughter also knows she can go to them as trusted adults.  And I told her we would talk more after school.  We will start working at home to arm her with confidence and tools to handle the haters.  Her little sister is also struggling with a bully at her preschool.  Her teachers said they are aware of it and that he is a problem for several kids.  She will be part of our new anti-bullying homeschool curriculum, too.

It makes me sad and angry that my children have to deal with this when they are still so young.  Part of me feels guilty, like I set them up for this by encouraging them to be themselves instead of trying to make them fit a mold.  But I think that is not right.  I used to work with high schoolers, thousands of them a year, talking to them about the problems they were facing.  All of them dealt with bullies in one way or another.  Even the ones who seemed perfect were teased about something.  Allowing my girls to be themselves, hopefully, will give them greater confidence in the end.  Hopefully the confidence and joy they show at home will prove to be stronger than the negativity they encounter in school.