Say Her Name

“Ugh, I hate when people call me that. That’s not my name.”

For some reason, people think it is ok to be wrong sometimes . . . all the time. I am guilty of saying, “I am bad with names,” just as much as the next person, however there is a difference between acknowledging our weakness – poor short term memory – and just giving up on even trying. I know I am bad at remembering names after hearing them only once. I am bad at remembering anything I hear. I know I am not an auditory learner. Over the years I have had to come up with tricks to try to help me be better. I do not like not knowing someone’s name. I do not like feeling rude.

That is what it is. It is rude. It is rude to tell someone his or her individual identity is not important, not worth the effort to remember. Our names are the most basic outward signs of who we are. They are our branding, our labels. My first name sets me apart from my three sisters. Being called Emma rather than “Fox Girl” makes a difference. Am I proud of the group I belong to? Sure. But I am more proud of the individual I am within that group. When people ask me, “Which Fox girl are you?” I’m ok with that. That means they are acknowledging they don’t remember my name, but want to be better and want to identify me as me. I’d rather answer the question than be called the wrong name or just called “nameless member of a group”.

For my daughters, they struggle with being called the right names because in one case people want to presumptively adjust a nickname and in the other people want to dismiss a name they find too ethnic.

Embracing her namesake.

My older daughter has a hyphenated first name. We were fully aware when we named her that people would struggle with the hyphen, and we call her by a nickname – Sofi.  For some reason, though, people take it upon themselves – no matter how much we tell them what her name is, even spelling it out for them – to call her Sophia. That is not and has never been her name. I understand Sofi sounds like it could be short for Sophia, but it isn’t. Once we have said it isn’t, the mistake should end. The mistake made once is understandable, and we honestly don’t mind the first time we have to correct a person. HOWEVER if we clearly fill out a form spelling her name the correct way or if she makes an effort to speak up and say, “my name is NOT Sophia, so please do not call me that,” then it is rude to use that as her name. To do so is to say, “Even though you put a lot of thought into what you named your daughter, and there are many very emotional reasons for her name being what it is, I am going to decide that MY way of spelling her name is better and that I know what is the best name for her. Also, I am not going to listen to her request to be called something else because, again, my desire to have a name sound and spell the way I am comfortable with it is more important than her individual identity.” Really. That is what is being said. 

Her name is hyphenated because she is also named after this amazing woman - Margaret. Dropping the Margaret hurts.

My younger daughter has a name which is not unheard of in other parts of the world and is in no way “made up” as people like to ask us. In the US, though, it is unusual. Again, we knew when we named her that people would struggle with it at first, but we liked the name. Considering we are the ones who say the name the most, really our opinions are the ones that matter most. Anyway, people had trouble with my name when I was growing up and now it is in the top 5 most common names in America. You never know. In the hospital, the woman who came to fill out the form for my daughter’s birth certificate actually insulted the name and criticized me as a mother for choosing that name. I pointed out to her that her opinion was narrow, the name has significance not only culturally but also IT’S NONE OF HER DAMN BUSINESS WHAT ETHNICITY OUR DAUGHTER’S NAME IS AND WHETHER OR NOT A RANDOM STRANGER LIKES IT. Since then, most people ask us to say our daughter’s name twice, then that’s the end of the conversation. They just accept it, call her by her name, and we all get on with our lives. Most people. About 5% of the people say, “I can’t say that,” and then give up trying (it is pronounced the way it is spelled – Yas-ya), make rude comments about ethnic/made up/uncommon names, or call her Yasha (which is actually a completely different name and is more commonly used as a nickname for boys translating-ish as Jake). Does this bother just me as her mom? Nope. Does she notice? Yes. You better believe it. She has an easy to pronounce third-option-name (Yasya is actually her nickname . . . her real name is longer and is what the lady in the hospital had a hissy fit about) which she offers to people she thinks won’t be able to handle her real name.

Looking up to the man she was named after.

For some reason, the people who can’t pronounce her nickname also tend to be the ones who think her real name is too intimidating, so they won’t use that, and they also refuse to call her by her third option name which is super easy to say. So what is left for her? With that group of 5% she has to deal with being called the wrong name or no name at all. While other people get the dignity of an individual identity, she does not. Not because of anything she has done, but because of that 5%’s comfort level. Have I ever been uncomfortable saying someone’s name? Sure. But I push myself. I need to be better. People deserve better.

I am not just being an overly sensitive woman about this and do not need to just get a thicker skin or accept people will be rude or people will change my daughters' names as they see fit. It is rude. Really. Imagine if someone changed your name and flat out refused to ever spell your name the way you do or call you by the name you prefer to be called. Would you just shrug that off? Really? Not be even a little bothered? At the end of the day, this is about dignity on a small scale. It is about pushing ourselves to do a tiny thing – whether it is easy for us or not – to recognize people as individual human beings. We look them in the eyes, we call them by name. Whether we have heard that name before or not. Whether we would have chosen that name for our child or not. Whether we would use a different nickname or not. Whether that name is from our ethnic group of not. Because opinions should not affect the amount of basic respect we show people. We should be better than that. People deserve better.

When You Sit Right Down in the Middle of Yourself

“Wow, she looks amazing. I hope I look that good some day.”

I see the imperfections; they see the Mama.

“Don’t be silly, Mom. You already look that amazing.”

I love my girls. They are good for my ego (most of the time). But we do live in a tricky world where figuring out this whole self-image thing gets pretty complicated really fast and can be devastatingly destructive. I know it is an issue both males and females battle (my husband doesn’t go to the gym just because he likes to wake up early and smell other people’s sweat), but as a female raising females, the female battle is the one I am more familiar with and the one I have been trying to figure out how to talk about.

When I was younger, I did the whole mall modeling thing. I even had an agent. I exercised in my bedroom in the mornings and before bed, doing sit ups and leg lifts then measuring myself. I always knew my size. I also always knew every single flaw with my appearance. Eyebrows were waxed and plucked, skin was inspected for any blemishes, and I would spend hours pacing back and forth in front of a full length mirror. Then I’d go to school and hear someone say, “Sure Emma’s pretty, but then she opens her mouth.” Bam! And if people heard I was modeling, the comments were, “Seriously? Her?” Yeah. Their skepticism really rammed home my knowledge of my short comings (including my shortness . . . I’m only 5’8”).

Now as the size 2 mom people love to bash in blogs and songs, I wish I could say things are better, but people still love to be snarky. It is up to me to ignore the “skinny bitch” comments I hear from random strangers when I am shopping (wish I could say I was joking) and in songs (can’t love “All About That Bass” if it is calling me a bitch because I am not overweight). It is up to me to hold my head high and not feel responsible for people obsessing about their thighs just because mine don’t touch. Honestly, I don’t look at or measure other people’s thighs and didn’t know “thigh gap” was something to talk about until people started making such a fuss about it on facebook. I only think about my thigh gap when I drop my phone while I’m on the toilet. I cannot let other people’s visions of themselves define my vision of myself.

That is what I try to teach my daughters. They already get bombarded with pressure to look certain ways. Don’t believe me? Let your second grader shave her head. Count how many people tell her she is no longer a girl or no longer pretty or that she is weird, wrong, etc. Let your first grader wear shoes from the boys’ department. Less extreme action, but she’ll get similar comments. The pressure to look one way and fit a generic mold of “this is what little girls are” is intense and destructive. Not every person fits the same mold and trying to force them to breaks them. As parents, my husband and I decided our goal was to help our girls express themselves and be true to themselves - even if that means coming home from school and shaving their heads in the bathroom then rocking a Star Wars t-shirt and one of my blazers in the pediatrician's office. Looking fierce, Tuna!

My girls and I (and my husband, too!) watch America’s Next Top Model or Star Trek as our evening tv. These two shows were chosen intentionally because they help us teach our daughters to be "fierce" and embrace their differences (and remind us to do the same in our own lives!).  Their dad and I can say over and over, “you are beautiful as is,” but it doesn’t have the same impact as hearing a super model or star ship captain with perfect hair tell them that being true to themselves makes them strong and gorgeous.

Here are some of our favorite lessons the girls can take away from those shows to help them battle the pressures to “look perfect” all the time:

• ·         Confidence is Beautiful – The judges on ANTM say this all the time. They send girls home for not being confident. They tell girls that beauty comes from within and that they must BELIEVE they are beautiful.
  
• ·         Compassion is Powerful – This lesson the girls see on both shows. One of their favorite episodes of Star Trek is “Plato’s Stepchildren” because it shows Cpt Kirk and the other crew members showing compassion to a man, Alexander, who had only experienced bullying and abuse before he met them because he didn’t look the same as the other people. Alexander’s transformation is a result of that compassion and helps to defeat the bullies. The compassion was stronger than the hatred showered on him. We talk to the girls not only about the need for them to act as Kirk did to others, but also act that way to themselves. They must show themselves the same compassion.
  
• ·         Diversity is Necessary – This is a Star Trek lesson that is evident just by looking at the make-up of the bridge. The crew comes from all over. Each character brings different strengths to the table, and Captain Kirk relies on all of them to help him.
  
• ·         No One is Always Perfect Looking – ANTM is great for teaching this lesson. Every girl has something she doesn’t like about herself, including Tyra Banks. Plus, by watching old seasons and comparing them to new ones, the girls also see how the trends change. If a girl from season 20 made herself look and dress exactly like a girl from season one, she would be outdated and wrong. There is no point beating ourselves up to fit the idea of perfection of the moment because the moment changes. Also, the fact that the judges don’t always agree drives home the message that this idea of perfection is a myth. Perfection is an idea that varies from person to person, minute to minute. We should not change who we are or sacrifice ourselves to a false idea.
  
• ·         Be True to YOU – Both shows teach this well. Captain Kirk and Tyra Banks in their own very different ways encourage the people around them to be strong by being true to themselves. When the girls do that, they can be more confident, embrace diversity, show compassion to themselves and others, ignore other people’s definitions of perfection, and – most importantly – be happy.
  

As Ani Di Franco, my other go-to for shareable wisdom for my girls, so nicely says, “when you sit right down in the middle of yourself, you’re gonna want to have a comfortable chair.”

Why I am ok with my daughter shaving her head.

“Mom, did you know some kids don’t know about gender equality? Ugh. It is so annoying.”

my Righteous Babe in her fave "someone call the girl police" shirt

This seems to be a constant source of annoyance for my older daughter and her personal mission in life. We have nicknamed her our Gender Equality Warrior Princess. Ever since kids started teasing her about her running shoes when she was in first grade (story here), she has been painfully aware of gender stereotypes in this country and the limitations they try to put on people. It bugs her. I am bugged, too. Her dad is, too.

She made this shirt herself to spread her
gender equality message.

There are a lot of problems when it comes to gender inequality and gender stereotyping.  They range from day to day little things that the girls face in school to larger problems that adult men and women have to deal with in jobs, politics, and health. How we are treated and how we are expected to behave are still defined by gender. For my older daughter, that becomes an annoying problem because she wants to think and act beyond those boundaries. She wants to make decisions for herself based on her own personality and preferences and does not think she should be limited by something as arbitrary as gender.

For the last three years, she has been coming to terms with how her classmates want her to behave and accepting that when she follows her heart, they won’t always approve of it. We have a saying in our house: “Not everyone likes broccoli.” Every person has different tastes and won’t like the same things. We can’t change our tastes to suit the tastes of the people around us, and we can’t expect them to change their tastes to suit ours. It is not always an easy thing to do, being true to herself in the face of snarky girls who mock her for not wearing nail polish or sparkly clothes, but she perseveres.

For her father, the journey to feminism was a bit different. He thought he was a feminist until he had daughters and a wife. Then the tiny little prejudices started showing. They seep in because they are such a strong part of culture. It is hard to avoid absorbing some assumptions of who should do what or who is capable of doing what. He has grown to be a gender equality warrior along with his daughter, and I think, like my own dad, it isn’t because he is the father of girls, but simply because he is a father. He doesn’t care about gender equality because he is a feminist in the sense that he thinks females need to be defended but in the sense that he loves his children and wants them to have access to all their dreams and to be free to be themselves. If we had sons instead of daughters, he would want the same for them. He is a feminist in the sense that he wants all people to live to their full potentials.

That is why I am so excited about Emma Watson’s speech to the UN. For my Gender Equality Warrior Princess, seeing Hermione standing up - her voice shaking, but still speaking up - telling the world to look at gender, “as a spectrum, instead of two sets of opposing ideals,” is powerful. It is empowering. It is reassuring. It is telling my daughter she has been right all along and she is not alone. It is saying, “you can like fairies and hockey, and that’s ok, and I stand with you.” It is also supporting their dad. It tells him his role as a father is valuable, and his emotions are valuable. It tells him, “you can love your daughters just as much as your wife does, and that’s ok, and I stand with you.”

I love that speech, and I love the He For She campaign. I hope it reaches many people, but even if it doesn’t, it will reach my daughter and help her. And as a mom, that makes me happy. 

"You're weird, Mom."

“NOOO!!!!!! Tribbles don’t go for walks! What are you thinking? You have to CARRY it! I can’t believe you did that!” *insert massive wailing*

"But I can't go to sleep! I don't have The Flu!" *insert frantic searching under the bed for a stuffed flu virus*

Or another example, the other day I was sitting on the couch, silently minding my own business, ignoring my children, when the older one walked over and yelled, “Mommy!” I responded calmly, “um, what?” to which she yelled back, “I don’t want to talk to you right now!” *insert confused blinking*

Recently we had relatives over and during some down time, the girls were playing in the dining room area while the adults relaxed on the couch and I puttered around the kitchen. The girls were being their usual selves, playing their normal imaginary games. I was only half listening, just catching stray sentences about coronations, brain eating amoebas, vampires, time travel, etc. Then I looked at our guest sitting on the couch who apparently had been listening in.

“Is this what you listen to all day?” she asked.

“Yup.”

To my girls, all this is completely, totally, 100% serious stuff. To me, it is hard to not bust out laughing sometimes (a lot of the time). There are times it gets annoying and I did have to make a “No Fighting About Imaginary Stuff” rule, but it is usually so random that it is hard to not just go, “wait, what did you just say?”

My mom says, among other things, kids need humor and heroes. I totally agree.  The heroes part I’ll talk about later. The humor part seems to be one sided a lot of the time, however, sadly. The girls are hilarious to me. What they say and do and how they dress. I love it. I often step out of the room to laugh so they won’t think I am laughing at them (which I am). They don’t see the humor in what they are doing, though, which makes sense. They don’t always see humor in what I am doing either. A lot of what I have to do is not funny. Cooking, cleaning, paying bills, driving, laundry, and kitty litter are not especially entertaining. Especially the bill paying. Not funny at all. And kitty litter is literally poopy. So what do we do? How do we teach our kids that there is humor in the world and that they don’t have to take everything so seriously? Even though being a grown-up is blechily serious. Ugh. This is an important lesson, so it requires extra effort no matter how serious and grown-up we feel. Here’s what the girls’ dad and I try to do:

1. Goofy selfies. Trite, right? But it never fails to make them laugh and shows them we don’t take ourselves so seriously we are afraid to look ridiculous. Their dad is extra good at this.

   

   They stole my phone and I got it back
   FULL of pictures like this.

2. Horrible dancing. This is not hard. Good dancing is hard. Horrible dancing is just fun. All we have to do is, again, not take ourselves super seriously. I have a really bad back, so sometimes this one is actually painful, but the pay off is worth it when the girls join in and relax. Enjoying being alive is a good thing.
3. Decorate however we want.

   

   Watching some tv with Pillow Nana

   We do like HGTV and decorating magazines, books, and blogs. My older daughter stole my copy of Young House Love and has already planned her own first house. But when it comes to decorating our own home, we don’t mind mixing walruses, dinosaurs, and skulls. Those things make us happy, so that is what we put out. All year. We tell the girls we decorate to make ourselves smile. And we do. It is hard to not smile when I look around my living room and see a crazy blend of Polish folk art, Ukrainian embroidery, a giant robotic triceratops, a life size stuffed version of my mom (not taxidermy . . .  like a rag doll . . . slightly less creepy), my Jane Austen action figure, a sparkly purple skull, etc. To others I’m sure it is a random clutter of things that make them say, “um, what’s that?” (I’m sure because they do say that when they come here and see Pillow Nana), but to us it is our home.
4. Sing along with songs we like. We can’t sing. Really. We’re not musically talented at all. A lot of the time it is just lip syncing. But it’s fun. And often drives the girls nuts. Which is just extra fun. So when we hear a song we like, we go along with it. I admit, whenever I hear Eye of the Tiger, I bust out not only my best lip syncing but also my super awesome horrible dancing. Actually, I have pretty much these same dance moves (although my car isn’t as cool):

Our end goal is simple. We want the girls to be happy. Life is full of bad stuff. There is disease and war and natural disasters. There are also all the little things that drain us day to day like bullies, annoying people, boring tasks, stresses, etc. We need to learn how to focus on the joy whenever we can. They can’t always see how funny and silly their little lives our, so as grown-ups we have to show them it is ok to laugh and give them things to laugh at.

We have to show them not everything has to be super serious because there are enough serious things already. So put that goofy hat on for no reason other than to make a kid smile. Don’t worry about looking like a doofus.

Dance like Elaine. Go on. Right now. Or when you pick your kids up from school. Or in the grocery store.

"School's better . . . but not perfect."

Honestly, that’s fine. I’ll take it. If you’re not sure where this is coming from, read THIS first. All caught up? Here’s what happened next.

My daughter did go to school and did talk to her teacher. She was nervous, but she got through it. At first, she didn’t get exactly what she wanted. Of course, exactly what she wanted was for either everyone else to disappear or for her desk to be moved to the hall. Not really realistic. Instead, the teacher said she would address the problem of kids talking out of turn and being disrespectful to the whole class the next day and by the end of the week everyone would have new seats. Rearranging seats is not as simple as one might assume. Kids are people with complex little personalities and the teacher has a lot to take into consideration. Plus, this is still the beginning of the year. She is getting to know people and balancing things out. Additionally, entire classes cannot be uprooted just because my (adorable princess center of MY universe) daughter wants her to move everyone. Long story short, I was satisfied, but my daughter was not entirely convinced things were going to get better. To complicate things, she then got sick and was absent the next day. D’oh!

Fast forward a week. Her teacher, being a professional who has her eye on the bigger picture beyond just my one child, did address the whole class. She talked to my daughter a couple more times over the week to find out more information about what the problem was and did separate my daughter from the girl who was harassing her (yes, I think repeatedly questioning someone’s gender during class every single day is harassment).

From my daughter’s perspective, the situation is slightly improved because she is no longer directly next to that one girl, however she is still there. Now we are talking about what my daughter can do on her own to not let the annoying stuff get to her and ruin her day. Filtering techniques: focusing on the positive things that are there; instead of focusing on what other people are doing, focusing on what she is doing and her own purpose. The point is, she cannot control other people, but she can control herself.

From my perspective, this is a huge victory because the whole thing was dealt with without me getting involved at all. My daughter did all the talking to her teacher herself. She felt comfortable enough to speak up for herself. That’s a big deal. It is also a victory because her teacher didn’t brush her off. Her teacher either was already aware of the situation from seeing it or considerate enough to listen to and believe her student. Either way, good sign of a good teacher. Teachers have a lot of other goals without also worrying about social problems and classroom discipline, but the social problems and classroom discipline have a huge impact on learning. I am very hopeful for the rest of the year and glad that our message “teachers are partners” was proven true. Oh, and it helped that my daughter earned the Take a Fuzzy Friend to School card. That always makes school better.

Heading to school with a smile and a fuzzy Dronkey friend.

"It's MORNING!"

Me. Before coffee.

I hate mornings. Ughhhhh. Really. I am not a morning person. But I am also incredibly stubborn and super determined to kick my enemies’ butts. Morning is my enemy. I will kick its butt. Grrr.

Before becoming a mom, I admit I was much less butt kicking and much more snooze hitting. There is something about being a mom that makes me fiercer. I am much more determined to get my kids to school on time than I ever was to get myself anywhere on time. It’s not like everyone else is always super punctual (except the annoying perfect people who I am sure secretly have basements full of dog poop which is the secret flaw I imagine for people who appear to be perfect because I hate dog poop). And parenthood really isn’t a competition. But it feels like it sometimes. And that challenge of I WILL Get Them to School ON TIME Today is powerful. Hey, whatever motivates, right? So I crank up the music and we hustle. I found this great video of what trying to get out the door on time feels like and it is totally accurate. Now that my girls are older, I don’t get peed on or get the oatmeal thrown at me any more, but the chaotic feel can be there still.

Here are my top time savers that super help me get my kids out our door and in the school door before that tardy bell (warning: won't work for everyone):

1. I don’t work any more. You have no idea how much time I save by not trying to also shower and make-up myself while also trying to wrangle the girls. I remember sticking the girls in the bathroom with me while I took the world’s fastest showers hoping one wasn’t toothpasting the other, then trying to brush my teeth and supervise toddler teeth brushing at the same time. It all got done, but I certainly never looked as pulled together as my coworkers who had no kids or the ones who admitted they dropped their kids at daycare then went home and got ready alone (I would have to drop my kids off at 5 am to do that!). Anyway, I know this is a b.s. time saver because who can really just quit their job to streamline their mornings, but honestly, every morning as I stick a hat on my dirty hair and throw jeans on without showering I am glad I am not working. I miss the paychecks and socializing with other grown-ups, but not the extra getting ready in the morning.
2. I don’t own a dog. HUGE time saver. No offense to dog owners. I had a dog. I loved her, but when she died, we didn’t get another dog. Not needing to walk the dog in the morning is great. I just need to take care of my two humans who are enough to deal with most days. Again, streamlining and minimizing the to-do list. We have cats, but the litter box scooping goes way faster and can be done when I get back from dropping them off. Just as "quit your job" is a pretty b.s. time saver for a lot of moms, "get rid of your dog" will be, too. But not having one right now saves me time. (And, frankly, don't most time saving lists contain a lot of crazy, b.s. ideas? Some even have ideas that seem like they would take MORE time. But I am off on a time wasting tangent now . . .)
3. I don’t do cute breakfasts. 
   
   Yeah, I like Pinterest and all the cutesy mom blogs and stuff, but I am
   not going to make fun breakfasts. Breakfast is cereal or oatmeal or a pastrami sandwich (the older one likes that . . .  she’s odd). Breakfast also has a time limit. The kitchen eventually closes. Eat and move on. Why do I have to tempt my kids to eat? They are hungry when they wake up. They eat without poking or prodding. It is probably the only time they will eat without a fight. Thus the time limit. The younger one would eat six breakfasts if I’d let her. She does on weekends.
4. Clothes are already set out. Sure there are still occasional whines about outfits, and fall and spring get tricky with the temperature jumping around, but most mornings we don’t have to think about it. The girls have a hanging cubby system in their room. I stuff the cubbies with outfits including socks and underwear, so in the morning they just have to grab an outfit. They can pick any outfit from any cubby. This is probably the biggest time saver. I hate fighting about clothes. I think it is a ridiculous fight to have. I just want them dressed and moving on to the next thing, so this system works great. The girls preapprove the cubby outfits these days which greatly reduces the risk of morning “I don’t want to wear that” or “I don’t know what to wear” whining. I love it.
5. Lunchboxes are also cubby systems. What can I say? I love a good cubby. We got these from Pottery Barn Kids, but similar ones are available all over the place. I don’t need to worry about running out of baggies (or feeling bad about killing sea turtles). I just put food in each cubby, close the lid, and move on. Super simple. Again, I don’t try to be cute. Sure, I’ve seen the Pinterest boards of people making their kids’ lunches works of art, but I just make it something they can eat. A sandwich and sides. Bing bang boom. Done.

As long as there are no major meltdowns about snarky girls or annoying people, everything runs smoothly and we go from bed to car in 40 minutes or less. We usually have time for a little playing or chatting or reading or dancing along the way, so the morning can start not super stressful. Of course, then I come back home after dropping them off and crash on the couch as if I’d just run a race. But I feel quite accomplished. And can check off that, yes, I did get up, kick ass.

“I just want to be left alone.”

Some mornings being a mom is exhausting. Not all mornings, although it may seem that way. Most mornings go smoothly, actually, but then there are mornings like these. I went through them with my older daughter, and now I am having them with my younger daughter. The challenges aren’t exactly the same because the two girls aren’t exactly the same. Their personalities are as different as their appearances. But here I am again, facing a little girl who doesn’t want to go to school because of a classmate.

I feel pretty lucky. I feel as though I entered parenthood with a pretty heavily stocked arsenal. Not only do I have my own experiences growing up to draw from, I also have a mother who writes and lectures about teaching kids resilience and peacemaking. I have a father who is an exceptional educator. I have a sister who is also an incredible teacher as well as countless teacher friends who are always willing to listen to me and answer all my questions about my elementary age children. (I majored in secondary education. These younger people are a whole different kettle of fish!)

Thanks to all that, this particular fish today got out of her egg chair and then out the door pretty smoothly by drawing on two carefully preset points we have been working on:

• Teachers are partners. We have always stressed this and have always been sure to let the girls know which of our family members and friends are teachers. We want them to know that teachers are human beings, people that care about them, and people they can talk to. So far, all their teachers have reinforced this lesson (BIG relief!). Last year when my daughter was wanting to drop out of first grade (totally different reason), we met with her teacher who very patiently and attentively listened to all my daughter’s concerns and worked out a plan with her to make things better. The number of teachers I have met who are NOT willing to do that can only be counted on one hand, and the number of teachers I know . . . well, I’ve lost count.
• Ignoring problems makes them worse. This is when cats and kitty litter are really useful. Smell that? What would happen if I ignored the kitty litter for a day? What if I went back to bed and ignored it for a week? Would the smell just go away? If I want the smell of cat poop to get better, I have to deal with it. I have to face the kitty litter. We have to face our problems. It sucks, but ignoring problems just makes them suck more later.

The problem was that there is girl who sits next to her who talks to her too much and keeps asking her, “are you a boy?” Everyday. My daughter says she has tried telling the girl to be quiet and leave her alone and has repeatedly explained that she IS a girl, but the other girl keeps talking. We wrote on a post-it note her primary concern – “too much talking” – and she went out the door prepared to ask her teacher if they could talk when she got to school (they have free time in the classroom with their teacher before class starts instead of morning recess). If that doesn’t work and she isn’t able to meet with her teacher informally today, we will email her teacher to schedule an appointment. Again, I don’t know many teachers who turn down appointments with students.

This is something we will be working on constantly - learning how to interact with classmates, coworkers, people around us - but I want my daughters to know that they are not alone as they figure things out. I can’t be there with them to see how they are talking to people or how the people are reacting, but their teachers are and their teachers do want them to be successful. Yes, at some point this is all on the kids, and I do encourage the girls to speak up for themselves first, but when that doesn’t work – as in this case – going to their teachers for assistance and advice is a good next step and sure beats dropping out of school to hide in an egg chair.

We’ll know this afternoon how it went and what the next step will be. To be continued . . .

“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 DO you do?"

Another weekend, another conversation with a friend about “so what DO you do?” I know the internet is flooded with blogs about moms and dads defining what they do all day to people who think we just watch soap operas, but some how I still get asked that. A lot.  I usually just grin. I know people aren’t trying to be mean or judge my choices. They are just curious. Usually the people asking aren’t parents. Usually they are my husband’s young female coworkers (who are all really sweet, by the way). I wonder what THEY do all day, too. I pester my husband with questions about his day all the time, so it is only fair that people ask me about mine. Plus, I’ve been on both sides of the fence. I have been a working mom and a stay-at-home mom. I know both lifestyles have pros and cons. What works for our family right now is not right for everyone else, and that’s fine with me. That being said, here, for the record, is my day (with a little help from C3PO):

I wake up when Mr. Me gets up to get ready for work. I don’t get up, too, though. Ha. I stopped getting up and making him coffee and breakfast and seeing him off to work years ago. He leaves too stinking early. I just open one eye then stretch out to enjoy getting the whole bed to myself unless the kids are already there until my alarm goes off. Then the real work starts. I get the lunches packed and the girls dressed and listen to endless stories from one and endless anxiety-talk-me-down-pleas from the other for an hour all while being so glad I don’t have to get myself showered and made-up any more. How did I do this when I had to get myself to work, too? Oh, yeah. I was a frazzled mess then, too. Moms just seem to get stuff done. We’re awesome, aren’t we? Then I drive them to school and come home to face the litter box.

And laundry. And vacuuming. And all the other housework. When I worked outside my home, I had fewer cats, the laundry got done in the middle of the night, and the house simply was less messy because no one was home to mess it up. Because the girls and I are home instead of at work or daycare, we make more messes therefore there is more housework for me. See how that works?

Also, I sew. Domestic, right? I chat with my friends. I rest when my headaches are really bad or when my back is really bad. I keep track of the family finances. I text my husband. I watch the news.

Then when school is over, I pick up the girls and do all the things a nanny would get paid to do (one of the things that used to annoy me about judgey people asking me what I do). I feed them, help them with their homework, take them to hockey, gymnastics, or whatever else it is they have going on. We go to the playground. We play Monopoly. We do science experiments. We talk about life, psychology, current events, philosophy, literary criticism, politics (ok, not so much politics, but some day). We cook dinner together, and I try to convince the younger one to eat something other than noodles and ketchup (rarely succeeding). Then baths, stories, and bedtime. Then I sit back, watch tv or read, or just chat with my husband until we fall asleep.

It all seems totally normal and not extraordinary to me, but I understand how to someone else it is a different sort of life. One of my husband’s friends asked me how I make friends if I am always with the girls which just proves how foreign my normal life can be to someone. Through all that, I am interacting with other moms and nannies and babysitters and dads and adults. We are all hanging out in the same places on a regular basis and get to know each other and friendships form. We aren’t hanging out in bars sipping martinis after work, but we do have standing dates at the ice house sipping hot cocoa each week.

It might not sound like fun to everyone, but it works for me and my family. As long as people don’t follow up the “what do you do” question with some annoying statement such as, “you know, it isn’t healthy to have the girls be your whole world,” or, “don’t you think that sets a bad example for your daughters, you know, by you not being ambitious,” or some other ignorant, judgmental quip about me wasting my potential or being anti-feminist, I’m fine with the question. Ask away.