After Overhearing Other Parents's Conversations

I don't have a lot of conversations with other parents at school pick-up and drop off these days. I am generally too busy trying to keep track of three two-year olds playing in an area that is not separated from the parking lot. But, I overhear the other parents talking. Today, the conversation was about plans for next year and which of the kids would be at the school in the fall. It is a small private nursery school and kindergarten. Some of the kids leave at 4 to go to junior kindergarten (J.K.), while others stay until they go to other schools for grade 1.

I heard one mother say, "He'll be in J.K. next year at the same school as his older brother. It'll be so nice just to have one place to drop them both." There was a collective audible but nonverbal response of agreement that it would be a relief. I found myself wondering if I will ever drop all my kids off at one school. Assuming that we stay where we are and things progress as expected, I will get one year with that convenience.

Next year, Patrick will be in grade 2 at his current school and Jocelyn, William and Michael will start the Casa program at a local private Montessori school. The following year, everybody will stay at the same schools unless we can't afford another year of Montessori, in which case the three little ones will do public kindergarten at our local school, which isn't where Patrick goes.

When Patrick hits grade 4, he is expected to go to a third school in our local public district for the congregated gifted program, while his siblings finish the Casa program, assuming the money is there.

When Patrick gets to grade 5, Jocelyn, William, and Michael will start at Patrick's current school, where they will presumably stay until grade 4.

When Michael, Jocelyn and William hit grade 4, I expect they will follow Patrick to the congregated gifted program, where Patrick will be doing his final year before moving on to high school and for one year, they will be together: the oldest and youngest kids in the program.

Patrick will finish high school the spring before his siblings start.

Of course, if not all the kids get into the gifted program, I won't even get that one year with all the kids in one school. I know this has more to do with the age gap between my kids than the number of them. It just strikes me as another way in which the family I dreamed of would have been easier than the family I ended up with. But, such is life.

Moments of Method, Moments of Madness

The intensity of toddlerhood is magnified with multiples. If things are working, they are wonderful. But the meltdowns are spectacular.

William, Michael and Jocelyn have been developing the ability to play independently, together and with Patrick, in ways that require me to engage infrequently. This is a wonderful development. Of course, fights and disagreements arise and I have to help them sort things out. But, often, I can do something else that needs to be done while listening for screams and attending to the needs of those who seek me out for attention.

We have reached a new level of being able to take turns and play structured games together. In January, my parents and I introduced the triplets to board games, starting with Candyland. The first time we played, each child had an adult to help them, and this eased the learning process. Now, as long as I am highly engaged, we can play with just one adult. I need to lead with a heavy hand, telling everybody whose turn it is, reminding them where to put their cards, helping them take their turns and move their pieces, keeping track of whose turn it is as they wander away from the board and come back, etc. But it works, and they keep asking to play it again. Recently, I introduced them to a memory game involving turning over cards to find pairs. Once again, by leading firmly, I was able to manage the game with all four children in such a way that they had fun.

Reading a book together has become a wonderful family bonding experience. When I sit on the sofa with a book to read and the four children gather around to listen, there is usually some jostling into position before things get started, but then I often read three or four books in a row before people get restless.

If only one person wants a story and the others are off doing their own things, it is a different experience all together. Yesterday, for instance, I had one tired child who wanted to snuggle and read a story. He found a book and climbed into my lap with his blankie to cuddle and I started reading. I had to interrupt what could have been a 5-7 minute long story for 2 trips to the washroom, including cleaning up one potty accident; one fall; one tussle over toys; and a spilled drink. By the time I finished reading the story, all four children had cried, shouted, or been disciplined and I was mentally scattered.

When the weather is warm, I am now able to walk with Michael, William and Jocelyn to the bus stop to meet Patrick after school. This is a new development and I am still wary of taking them very far for a walk. When things go well, it feels quite easy, but it only takes one child who doesn't want to follow the plan for it to become dangerous. With one toddler, I could just pick him up and carry him when he became unwilling to behave safely. With three, it just isn't possible.

Living with the daily chaos, I don't always notice how much the kids are growing up. But, we are not the same as we were in the fall. I still feel overwhelmed by how much the little ones cannot yet do for themselves, but they are able to do more all the time. Each self-care skill the kids acquire makes it easier for me to enjoy these wonderful children rather than be overwhelmed by how much work I have to do.

Why the Break in Blog Posts

It has been months since I found time to articulate my thoughts enough to post an update. I apologize to those of you who want updates and don't get them any other way.

December was busy getting ready for the holidays, which pounced on me with less warning than usual, or at least it seemed that way. I was in rehearsal for a play that would be in performance in late January. Dangerous Obsession is a three person cast, and I was onstage for the whole show, so there was no sitting around the theatre during rehearsal to learn my lines or do anything other than rehearse.

Shortly before Christmas, a beloved aunt of mine was diagnosed with ovarian cancer and had surgery, which put an emotional strain on the whole family. By the end of January, it was clear that she was deteriorating rapidly and would not survive for long. The family came together as often as possible, rallying around her and each other to celebrate her life and ease her death to the extent we could. When she died, I personally experienced that awful mix of emotions that include devastation at her loss and relief that her suffering was over.

Parenting through grief is challenging. Patrick knew and loved Karen and understood what was happening. The triplets were oblivious. The energy of young children who were thrilled to be visiting their grandparents often, as we did during February, distracted the adults somewhat from our grief, which was a welcome relief. However, alone with the children at home, I have found it a struggle to by buoyed up by their enthusiasm and not weighted down with the challenges of providing a warm home for 4 children who need me so fully all the time.

At the same time, Andy is in rehearsal for a play – a much needed and much deserved project for him – and is extremely busy at work. He has been a tremendous support through my loss, but he needs support through his busy time, now.

The last few months have been a time where my self care needs have required a lot of retreating into myself. And, this internal retreat is the main reason for my lack of updates.

Band Practice

I have budding "musicians" in the house. Just the other day, we had our first real jam session. Jocelyn was over-blowing a recorder. Michael was strumming a badly tuned guitar. William had made a drum kit out of some kitchen utensils and metal garbage cans.

It took some time for a band style to develop because these musicians all have very different inspirations. Jocelyn was imitating her big brother, who likes to be as loud as possible and doesn't care much about rhythm or melody. Michael has learned to play from a folk guitarist who plays children's music at a playgroup they attend. William's technique comes primarily from watching a YouTube video of a drum cover of the Black Eyed Peas' "I Got a Feeling."

So, the jam session started with a recorder fanfare from Jocelyn, "Old MacDonald Has a Farm" from Michael with lyrics and strumming, and a drum riff and shouts of "Good Night. Good Night. Good Night," from William.

With a little coaching, I managed to get Jocelyn to blow a little more softly into the recorder. In the meantime, William had started listening to Michael. The intensity of his drumming didn't change, but, over time, he chose to match his brother's lyrics. And, we had a rocked-up, out-of-tune "Old MacDonald" filling the house.

I need to invest in some good earplugs. With this cacophony as the beginning of music education in my house, it is going to be a long road. But, if the end result is people who enjoy making music, it will be a road worth walking.

The Joy Diet: Laughter

This week of "The Joy Diet", Martha Beck instructs us to laugh at least 30 times a day.

I must confess that I haven't been counting my laughs. Although, I do think counting my laughs with a manual counter might increase my laughs. Instead, I have been focusing on finding the laughs that I have been missing.

As I mentioned last week, motherhood has brought my serious persona to the fore. And, three 2-year olds in the house is enough to make anybody crazy if they take it too seriously. I have been letting the chaos get to me.

2-year olds are silly beasts. They don't know enough to follow conventions, they do what comes into their heads without regard to what society views as right or normal. Some of what they do is dangerous and really needs to be shut down. Some of what they do is funny the first time, but sure to be annoying the 95th time, so a moderated response is required. But, a lot of what they do is just silly.

My life is busy and my list of "should do"s is long. Too often, when one or more of the kids is up to something that is just funny, I don't take the time to enjoy it because I am too worried about getting something done.

My challenge to myself this week has been to take the time to notice the silly things and enjoy them. And, most importantly, to let the laugh out - choosing the laughter over the impatience. I don't know if this is getting me to my 30 laughs a day, but I have noticed a few things.

• I enjoy the kids more.
• The chores don't get done quite so quickly, but I don't mind them so much.
• I remember the silly things more than the "developmental milestones" or annoying things when I am reporting a few of the day's events to my husband, so I get to relive the silliness.
• It doesn't take more than a moment to let the laugh out.
• The kids seem to enjoy it when I laugh.

Of all the elements of The Joy Diet that my life needs, this is the one it needs most. With enough laughter, I will be able to face the things that need to be done and the things I want to do with more ease. And, more ease is always good.

I used to notice the absurd in everything. It is harder to do now that my responsibilites are greater, but it is more important than ever.

The Joy Diet: Play

Oh boy, this has been a rough week.

Play shouldn't be so tough for me. I am an InterPlay leader. I spent years dressing up in costume to attend Rennaisance Faires. I spent my college years playing Vampire Tag. I have a lot of experience with play beyond my childhood years. I have even taught a seminary class that included finger painting.

But, the truth is that play challenges me to my core. In one of his workshops, Phil Porter, one of the founders of InterPlay and one of my heroes, said that InterPlay often appeals to recovering serious people. And, in my case, it is absolutely true.

I follow the rules; I get things right; I do what I am supposed to do. InterPlay has forms, instructions for movement. One of the basic forms, which I learned right at the beginning of my first class is "Walk, Stop, Run." The basic form is very simple. You Walk around the space. Then, when you feel like it, you Stop. And then, if you are feeling brave, you Run around the space. Finally, you are invited to play with Walking, Stopping, and Running. And then, Serious People get nervous.

You see, what happens then is that experienced InterPlayers take the instruction to play and jump with it, spin with it, run with it, lie on the floor with it, pick up a playmate with it, lean on a friend with it, and do an awful lot of things that don't look or feel anything like walking, stopping, or running. Somewhere in the midst of what felt like chaos, I realized that the teacher wasn't enforcing the "Rules" and that following the rules wasn't making me happy. What made me happy was sometimes to lean against the wall and watch or skip or gallop or spin or make a train or hold hands or lie on the floor - not just to walk or stop or run. And, now, I am one of those experienced InterPlayers that make Serious People nervous.

But, I am a well-conditioned Serious Person, so my Serious Persona takes over under stress. Motherhood has thrown me for a massive loop on the play front. There is so much to do that has to be done for all these little people who cannot yet do for themselves. My serious self has reared it's ugly head with a vengeance and has been forcing my playful self into hiding. I have been operating from the delusion that just because parenting is important, it must be serious.

So, this week, I used an InterPlay trick of thinking about something, in this case my desire to be more playful with my parenting and householding responsibilities, and then throwing it up into the air with a "wheeee" and I just let it float around up there for the week to see what happened. It has helped me find more ease. Not enough, but a beginning.

• I have been playing at looking like I have it together. I went shopping for new clothes and bought tailored clothes which make me feel less frumpy. And, I have been putting on make-up before taking the kids to pre-school. I like looking like I have it together even when I feel overwhelmed.
• I skipped ahead mentally in the book to the chapter on Laughter and started trying to increase the number of laughs I got out of each day - which often involved getting more laughs out of my children; their laughter is infectious. And yes, folks, skipping ahead is hard for rule-followers like myself, so it counts as play all by itself.
• The kids love spray bottles. My kitchen floor always needs a good wash. If I don't care that the walls, table and windows get washed too and that spots get missed, there is a silly way to get my kitchen floor mostly cleaned and my kids entertained at the same time staring me in the face.
  

Playing a board game with my eldest son a few days ago lead to a discussion about good sportsmanship. And, I realized that I am a sore loser in the game of life. In fact, I am such a bad loser that I don't even want to play the game if I don't think I can win. So, part of my challenge with playfulness is learning to commit to the game without committing to the result.

Maybe this approach will help me with NaNoWriMo 2009. NaNoWriMo is a novel writing challenge: start a novel and write 50,000 words of it during November. Last year, I really thought it was a massive but doable challenge if I turned my inner editor off and let myself write drivel. I wrote more than my 50,000 words and it felt great. This year, because I know that I can write 50,000 words, I have set my self-expectations higher and this is causing a degree of writer's block. I need to give myself permission to write another 50,000 words of drivel.

All in all, the week has been a reminder of how much we need play in our lives. In my case, and maybe in yours, we need it most when we think we can least afford it.

The Joy Diet: Treats

This week's ingredient is to add at least 3 treats a day: one after your risk for the day and two just because. Martha Beck's definition of a treat is something that makes you feel like smiling. For me, this idea, lead me back to my InterPlay training.

In InterPlay, there is a concept called the Physicality of Grace. In English, there is not a good, common word for what we feel when we feel the opposite of stress. There are some that come close, but nothing that really captures it. In InterPlay, we use the Physicality of Grace to refer to how our bodies feel when we feel the opposite of stressed. Sometimes, it is easier to understand if you start by noticing how your body feels under stress. Then, when you think about the opposite of stress, you can feel how your body feels and call that feeling the physicality of grace. Once you notice the things that make you feel the physicality of grace, you can choose to increase them in your life. For me, this week, I tried to find treats that really gave me a full body experience of grace, not just made me feel like smiling.

My primary treat all week has been to use the super-minimalist version of the InterPlay seated warm-up every time I remember it - and to teach it to my kids because it is more fun in a group. Here are the instructions:

• Take a deep breath and let it out on a sigh. Repeat. Again. And once more if it would feel good.
• Shake out a hand.
• Shake out the other hand.
• Shake out a leg.
• Shake out the other leg.
• Shake out whatever you are sitting on. (Shake out your whole body if you are standing).

Just this much of the warm-up always makes me feel better. In fact, just step one usually makes me feel better. The kids like the shaking out though, so we do that together. Once they think that this is something we do, I'll teach them the rest of the warm-up and we'll be able to make that part of our day, too. But, for now, I love that I have finally really started integrating InterPlay practice instead of just InterPlay philosophy into my parenting.

For a good summary of InterPlay, check out Grethen Wegner on InterPlay.

I have noticed things that make me smile and chosen them this week. The things that make us smile are unique. Nobody else will smile at exactly the same things I smile at. Our bodies are all different. Our brains are all different. We perceive and interact with the world differently. We all need to discover for ourselves what makes us smile.

For me, this week, the list of treats has included:

• driving through hills looking at the fall leaves.
• chai
• licorice tea
• wrestling with the kids
• reading about the history of Islamic achievements in art and science.
• fake hip-hop dancing in my living room
• the smell of freshly baked bread
• walking in the wind
• long baths with eucalyptus epsom salts
• white wine and sweet potato fries
• the warmth in my hand of a particular cup when the tea is still almost at boiling temperature.
• listening to music that I love but haven't heard for ages
  

Interestingly, I have noticed that I am yearning for new experiences - especially new music - as part of my treats. So, part of my treating myself for the next few weeks should include searching out new music to notice what my body yearns to listen to and dance to now.

There is a richness to life when I choose these little treats. My overall life may be exactly the same, with the same frustrations and limitations, but the joy despite the frustrations makes it all seem less oppressive. I'll be choosing those treats more often.

How about you? How will you treat yourself?