Musings

I often wondered about the validity of the nature nurture connection and now as a mother of three girls with a boisterous boy smack in middle, I see it crystal clear. Every day.

I often feel that sometimes it all gets mixed up.

 Like, can you really cook a basketball in a crockpot and can you really clean the bathroom floors by pouring buckets of water on the floor one at a time until it seeps into the foyer and it's too late but who really cares because there is already thousands of dollars of water damage accumulated in our house due to a demand of indoor water play throughout the years.

With role-reversal very strong these days, cooking is no longer confined to the woman of the house and basketball is no longer a male-dominat sport, so things kind of even out.

Did you know that back in history, little baby boys wore little pink stretchies for the calming effects of the color?

Even when there is an overwhelming amount of female influence in the family, sometimes the nurture still shines through.

And yet there is something so strong about the little power-packed masculinity that even the strongest princess-wannabes cannot destroy. Ever.

I also do know that if there could be a custom-made paradise for Moshe, he got a small taste of it today.

We were all really happy for him.

Another musing i've been exploring is the intake and outtake of energy and how to channel it and why some children have no "off" buttons...

 It seems that no matter how hard we try to tire out our most energized

 No matter how rough we play

How far we push them

 by 9:45, after a 3-hour beautiful regimented standardized bedtime routine with lots of love and minimal high-volume comments, only ONE child was sleeping (shaina, i will always love you for that!)

My largest challenge remains when i am confined to whatever quiet dark spot I chose to nurse Rivka and attempt to put Moshe to sleep and pray hard and hold my breath as he slips away and wonder what will await me when I get downstairs

And then I further muse about the combination of paprika, cinnamon, onion powder and salt and wonder how they would taste with a dash of cumin,curry and salt and a heaping of oregano and sesame  seeds.

 and marvel at those efficiently-placed  little detailed piles which landed in the funniest deliberate places
(please note that this is post sweeping)

 and what rubbed out spices will look like under a macro lens.

 And as the night proceeds i wonder if i should put melatonin in our air ducts and hook an intravenous caffeine pump as i wonder why all the evaluators put the sound "zoom zoom" into their drawings because evidently moshe is really good at imitating that pattern for hours on end - it just stuck- and he is quicker than anything. he "zoom zooms" all over the whole house as he puts the song "zoom zoom gali gali gali" to it and colors with glee.

 i wonder why people wonder why my house isnt clean and it's not because i dont keep the markers on the highest out-of-reach-shelf, i do.

After too many minutes of helplessness, I take Moshe OUT of the house. We speed down the empty shop-rite aisles and dance to whatever shop rite music is playing. We grab "treats" off the aisles because no shopping trip is complete without them.
You do know and should know that if at 10:46 you are finding shop rite to be a little vacation spot, your day has been long.
We stock up on diapers and glutino snacks which are all a dollar off this week.
Please do notice that when you buy size 6 diapers, the coupon pusher automatically dispenses coupons for pull-ups as a bit of a push.
Moshe loves to place items on the little conveyor.
I wince at my 90 dollar "just going to get diapers" bill.
I smile at the cashier and swear to her that my son had a bath two hours prior and hope she disregards his body-art.

We get home. We settle onto his newly decorated PINk couch now bearing BLUE streaks.
(back to my nature-nurture thing there...)
And as he drifts off into sleep, I kiss those pudgy blue hands which I adore to no end.
I marvel at the peacefulness and stillness.

And I bet you wouldnt believe that all this action happened in a one day - starting from bounce u - and you muse and wonder if it is true and I will tell you that it is and that I love my adventures with my children and even my husband muses why his wife doesnt get laundry done and it's not because I'm blogging (well, maybe tonight it is). The days are full, the to-do lists and demands of playing, cleaning, and making lunches are long but I wouldn't trade that mega endorphine releasing laughter Moshe produces along with the admiration of his younger sister accompanied by 4-year-old female NATURAL drama - I wouldn't trade that for any serenity, neatly folded laundry or pristine walls.

Being Mom

Did you ever load up and buckle all your children into the car in those ridiculous car seats, fold up the stroller, put the key in the ignition, drive four blocks all the while applauding yourself for surviving yet another venture only to hear that little timid voice trying you..."Mommy, I need to go to the bathroom."

"Can you wait till we get home in...45 minutes?"

"No!!"

And pull over to the closest Sunoco station and watch your children parked in the van outside with your foot stuck in the outhouse door as you keep an eye on the parking praying that your child doesnt contact some crazy tropical disease from that public restroom...

Have you ever run four complete laps around Target chasing a child at 7 walking-miles-per hour (i think that's pretty fast)?

Made four suppers - one per child? Stood in a one-inch puddle - in your bathroom...allowed your child to wear what she wanted because she thought she looked like a princess...get caked with baby food...finally got your baby to sleep while the rest of your clan watches a video peacefully ...and when finally ever so quietly, gently, you put down your child who wakes with the breath of air...dang it - the episode is over and the girls are screaming and the whole cycle starts all over again...and you know that you are going to be forty minutes late to school again like every day this year because you spend 3 hours a day shuttling children to their Jewish Day School but can never get them to bed at 7:30...and for any of you who have read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and can kind of visualize the illustration of Charlie's family all sleeping in one bed - from the rickety grandma to the poor baby...that's my bed by about 2am!

Oh, and Pre-k homework...and shopping with kids is dangerous - did you know that? Go to target to buy pizza crust - with your kids- and when you get your $60 receipt, you will understand!

And another thing I learned other than having to remember to pack a spare change of clothing for YOURSELF, not just the kids, and to never wear sandals in the mulch playgrounds and to never pass Starbucks when your children are experiencing ravishing thirst. And to take advantage of the fact that your children don't know how to read clocks until they do, because you can tell them it's bedtime at 5;30 and give them an extra hour of play, and then maybe they will get to bed by 7:00 and realize they are hungry by 7:04 and be done their 3rd supper by 7:25 and maybe actually get to bed by 7:30 so that they can get to school in the morning on time...but you know how it goes...the day the clothes work, and the socks aren't too itchy and the shoes aren't in five different locations in the house, the 295 has a 6 mile backup and you sheepishly excuse your lateness again as you visualize your coffee and wonder where your sleep went as you plan the 40 things you have to do in the 1-hour nap that your baby who is home will take  but only happens as you wonder why you only did 17 things and not 40 things as you kiss your baby's sleepy little face and her fat chunky pulkies which you can only squeeze for so much longer because soon she will be big, they dangle from your arms as her head leans back and she smiles contently and the clock reads 245 and you know that if you dont put her straight into the car seat, you will be late and you just cant be late again because you were late this morning...whew!

It is a bit over and done as the sun set over 24 hours ago putting an end to a day celebrated by thousands of people of different race, color, religion. Afterall, every person in this world has a mother that birthed them, took care of them, and hopefully loved them and nurtured too. In my family we were told, "Every day is mother's day" and coming from a mother of 12, I must honor that, yet, I still am a bit of a stickler for Mother's Day.

I fondly recall my first mother's day absolutely oblivious to anything that motherhood REALLY entails other than four legs poking me, jabbing me, and ever so gently reminding me that there is life growing inside of me and I am a mom.

I kind of laugh back at my second but first Mother's Day. I was adamant about celebrating it; I invited extended family over and we had a barbecue. I suppose with 8-month-old twins, I felt like I needed a little "You are doing a great job through the exhaustion and whatnot" day of recognition. 

As the years passed, i didn't let loose on my expectations but what changed is the need for any kind of validation that I am doing a great job as a mother, or at least I am trying my best as I have defined for myself and am constantly redefining what the role of a mother is.

(photo credits - Avi - ignore that signature...)

And perhaps I will never get my children to school on time, but i will always love them, nurture them, and let them explore their amazing potential and talents. I understand my children. I know that their personalities manifest itself into strengths and weaknesses and my job, together with my team-runner, Avi, is to channel all their energies into the right outlet.

We recently bought Shaina and Chava cameras and I had such a joy in teaching them about something I love. But my children, although, they like pressing the button, they don't share my passion. yet. Their eyes don't light up.

Right now Shaina and Chava want to be ballerinas and love to dance. I don't dance. I take pictures. And write long run-on sentences about my crazy blessed life. But i have to help my girls dance and cheer them on as they evolve from toddlers and develop into young girls and find an individual sense of self. even if I can't do what they want  to do and watch them become something that I am not and will never be (a ballerina, that is).

Raising twins can be tricky and I work hard to give Shaina and Chava their own identity...but i am glad they both want to dance and absolutely take pride in them being talented and graceful, in possessing something I do not have.

I really do my best to learn from all my children. Sometimes I can guage my success by my children's conversations. Shaina and Chava are constantly reenacting scenarios when the play with their dolls or have conversations in the back seat of the car.Sometimes they say mature things, and soimetimes they use expressions i myself have used and when it comes rolling off their lips, i can hear myself saying the same things they said and can determine what kind of role model I am being for my daughters.

Moshe is partially echolalic which means he sometimes turns off his functional language and just repeats whatever we say...so if I ever need a real testimony to how I am doing, a real playback, my dear little funny guy just spits whatever i say right back to me with the same exact tone I use and my high school principal's wise words during a patience workshop comes to mind..."Always put yourself on the receiver's end"...and that is my #2 rule for parenting. (#1 is unconditional love)

I am a happy person and take what comes my way. It is difficult for me to ask people to do favors for me and to take from others. Besides for teaching me to find the humor in everything and how to love life, Moshe has taught me to let my voice be heard, to stick up for what I believe is right and necessary. there is a certain inner-strength you develop as a parent when you have to push for certain things, to advocate for your child, and when you love someone - you learn to go out of your box.

If anyone has taught me that practice makes perfect - it would be my 34-month-old Moshe can get a basketball into a 5-foot hoop. He is the most determined and persistent little guy I know and not just within the basketball arena.

Rivka, the baby of the family, for now, has tied our little gang all together. She is a superball with a strong personality, struts around and knows exactly what she wants. She knows how to navigate her way around her siblings andgets what she wants. Rivka admires and imitates Shaina and Chava - you should watch this 15-month-old set up a tea party and push her doll in the swing and simultaneously shoot hoops with Moshe as her little streak of tomboy graces this house.

Thinking back to my first Mother's Day i celebrated, a 25-year-old pregnant glowing woman with twins full of dreams and visions of cute babies in matching outfits with a house full of laughter, joy, and the latest baby gear...i did not know what i was in for. i could have never dreamed how wonderful the reality of motherhood really is, the work, the sweat, the tears that sometimes show up at the funniest times like Chanukah presentations or moshe's music class, the challenges, the messes, the WORK, that is what makes it all so real and so amazing and blissful; to be entrusted with the care of human beings and have the gift of molding them into little people with specialized individual personalities. the smiles, the golden giggles, pudgy pulkies, pitter patters, crashing doors, scribbled walls, hugs, kisses, pouts, peanut butter jelly sandwiches, nightmares, tantrums, surprises, questions, dreams...
Happy Mother's Day!

T.G.I.F. - and I mean it!

The letters T.G.I.F. hold a whole new meaning for me in a more literal way than - oh thank G-d the week is done. I, for one, have started looking forward to Fridays.

Moshe's love of life, coupled with his challenges, made this winter a most interesting one for our little family. It came to a point where we had to pinpoint what was going on with certain behaviors so we could better help him, so I found myself and my best little man in a neurologist's office on my birthday. We received a diagnosis which did not really shock me at the time and got a recommendation for music therapy and extended testing.

We are still waiting for a script for more individualized therapies which we will get in another 6 weeks after more testing will be done but for now, Moshe gets occupational and speech therapy twice a week and what I found happening is that instead of looking at my child as a regular 2-year-old, I kept looking at him through the eyes of a therapist. NJ's Early interventions system works as a family training model where parents are involved in the therapy sessions, they participate, and learn how to meet individualized goals set at IFSP meetings together. The system is simple and makes sense but as my husband once pointed out to me, "Mina, you are holding our child under a microscope".

And, I just realized, this is not fair to my son.

Or to myself.

And after we received a diagnosis which put Moshe on the spectrum, I could not stop reading and reading and trying to implement what I read. I wanted to be one of those mothers I've seen in all those special-education videos I watched as a passionate single girl (I actually always wanted to work with children with special needs, but ended up on a different path) where the mother puts her heart and soul into helping her child and ends up being "the one" to really help him get out of himself.

I take a lot of pride in breaking a lot of my son's repetitive behaviors, channeling them into proper socially acceptable outlets and together with my husband and children, and Dr. Greenspan's Floortime Method teaching my son how to communicate properly best to his current ability. We all really work together as a family and every single sibling, Shaina, Chava, and down to little Miss Rivka, have been a part in this. They have all made sacrifices on time, attention, have run after him when he escapes in public places, have stayed stuck in the basketball exhibit in the museum for tens of minutes on end instead of going to the ballet exhibit - and still love him unconditionally!

I do believe a child's parents can be the most influential role in a child's progress and it is the parents' responsibility to do the utmost for their child, but there also has to be the ability to stop. And just see past your child's differences and be a plain old simple mother. It's something I have to work very hard on.

Somehow, last week, all my son's individualized therapies got cancelled. I took Moshe to the library, colored, went shopping together, played cars, watched drummers on You Tube and danced along - or at least we tried.

And then Friday came along. We went to Haddonfield, a gorgeous little town bordering Cherry Hill, N.J. where Moshe goes to group music therapy. My Fridays went from "How am I going to occupy Moshe and Rivka, keep them out of trouble, keep the house clean, cook for shabbos and keep Moshe awake until his speech therapist comes?" to just being with my two youngest children, relaxing and doing something they love together and enjoying every special moment with them.

Moshe's music group is full of children with special needs. Some children cannot walk or talk and it is then that my appreciation for physically healthy children deepens tremendously. There are also children similar to Moshe and it is so nice to be in a place where no one is judging you based on your child's behavior or lack thereof. We are all just a group of parents trying to bring out the best in our children in a fun way.

When music time is done, we have established a routine of running through the tulip paths. Prior to last week, we spent an hour in front of a barber shop watching the pole spin around in fascination, occasionally banging on the window and then running back to that awesome pole. I did no think the barber wanted us back there so tried to come up with alternate plans.

I asked Moshe if he wanted yogurt for lunch and instead of his auto-response of "No. I want candy." he pulled out a new card on me and ever so charmingly asked, "No. I want to go to the ice cream shop." I know he pulled that line out of some movie because we have not ever been to an ice cream shop, so I promised Moshe to take him to a candy shop instead being that we didn't have to rush home for his speech language session.

We went on a little Moshe-Rivka-day marathon. We started to look at the toys in the Toy store window which of course prompted a visitation to the great insides and the special purchase of Moshe's first baseball. He wanted all the basketballs on the shelves of course, but I won this small victory. Avi is a huge sports fan and knew he would be happy about that and hold a piece of pride in teaching his son how to play baseball.

Rivka was adamant about a toy broom. Good. Now she can clean up  all the clothes she and Moshe dump down from upstairs inbetween the banister rails:)

We used the last 30 minutes in the meter to run to Starbucks where we tried to have a conversation over apple juice and  Coffee fuel ups. We made it to the golden Candy Shop and of course - the one Kosher item was...the biggest lump of sugar in a super-sized lollipop and the biggest happiest smile in town which was worth every bit of the sugar crash!

Another week has passed and it's Friday again. I am working on myself to hold onto the last bit of Moshe's toddlerhood, to attribute all his behaviors to the "terrific twos, to just love him for who he is and to really just connect with him instead of trying to fix him all the time. I am learning to take a step back. To just take pride in all of Moshe's incredible strengths and adorable personality...and given his crazy memory and navigation abilities.... I know exactly which way he will direct me right after music!

                  (ps - it's apple juice. still in diapers. no time for photoshopping pants.)

Wishing you all a great Friday!

PS- I love all comments of Facebook from previous post, but they don't remain archived so please jot them on the blog and if you are not yet a member - please sign in! It takes 2 minutes!