This week was Spring Break, so I tried to do my duty to make life a little interesting for the kiddos. The menu included Monday: Movie (Monsters v. Aliens), Tuesday: Rollerblading at the indoor rink, Wednesday: Swimming at the "fun" pool with waterslides, Thursday: Swimming at the regular pool, and Friday: Bike outside and bunk the beds. We have also done a good job so far playing lots of board games and probably too many video games.
You may have noticed the back-to-back swimming dates on Wednesday and again on Thursday. Zoe seems to have really benefited from the extra pool time.
I remember when she first realized (at age 3.0) that she could put her face in the water and it was fun (Imagine 25 rounds of ring-around-the-rosie ending with dunking). Shortly thereafter she learned how to blow bubbles while under water, and her kicking became really effective. She used a 'barbell' under her armpits to hold her up while she chased everyone across the pool.
The next big developmental leap that I'd been watching for was the front float or front glide. She was happy to be underwater, but I had a hard time convincing her that prone position is the way to be! Swimming in the zero-depth-entry fun-pool on Wednesday really helped...she was able to lie on her tummy in 6 inches of water and front float without feeling a terrifying freedom and the helplessness of floating.
On Thursday when we were back in the regular pool...hooray! She was able to push off the steps and front float with her face in (atop 3 feet of water) and kick 3 or 4 feet over to me. Sometimes she used her arms, but honestly...they were useless floppy noodley paddles. Nevertheless, I was delighted to see her swimming through the water without any support from me or any floaties!
Looking back, I realize that Zoe is swimming at 3 1/2 as well as Xander was at 5 1/2. Then again, I never really put Xander in a pool until he was 5, and Zoe's been going once per week since she was 18 months. Guy masterfully picked up reading at 3 when it took Xander until 4 1/2 to get rolling, and Guy rode his bike at 4 while Xander was doing the same at 7. Rollerblading on Tuesday proved that Guy is nearly as good as Xander, and they're both doing well as fairly new skaters...and there was Zoe...making strides in HER skating skills even though her brothers never tried it until they were much older.
All this thinking raises the question in my mind...how is each child's experience different based on birth order? How much of my parenting is changing as I go from one child to the next? In most of the examples listed, I'm thinking that the later-born children benefit from earlier exposure to many things just because they get dragged along with older siblings (or they see the older brother doing something fun, and by golly they'd like to try too!)
MY later born children are also benefiting from the fact that I have learned how to swiftly and effectively teach swimming, piano, reading and math. The younger children may also still have a chance to learn social graces, self-discipline, and self-cleanliness from me, if I can possibly get my act together in the near future.
Younger children also have the benefit of a slightly-older role model, only one step ahead, to look up to. (Who cares that my Mom is a role model? Of COURSE she knows how to tie her shoes...she's a grown up. But if my BROTHER can do it, I betcha I can learn to do it too.)
So what could possibly be the benefit of being born first? Undivided attention for a couple of years surely has some nice payoffs (my firstborn spoke earliest and most eloquently of them all), but does that effect wane in comparison to all the benefits of being 2nd and 3rd and 4th?
My husband and I are both second-borns. We'll never know for sure what it's like to be first as a kid, but maybe number one feels just a bit the same as his parents do. Every adventure is a new one for us as parents, as it is for him. Every grade level in school is exciting and terrifying. We go to the first scout troop meeting with him with our own bewilderment and trepidation. We navigate team sports and social graces with him bridled with fears and concerns and worries.
Will all of that be old hat next time around for me as the Mom?
Perhaps number one has the advantage of my cameraderie in all things new and adventurous and experimental. Perhaps he gets the best lessons in how to invent, how to improvise, and how to test limits. And I won't disregard the fact that he has a young and peppy Mom...I can't make too many promises for what I'll be like 10 years from now for the youngers.
Number one may also get the most opportunity to practice his own teaching skills. He can help those next in line with every skill and lesson he's learned, whereas the baby may have a hard time finding a younger victim to lead and guide.
And now my pondering leads me around to the eventuality that perhaps I am successfully getting better at parenting. I'll probably get REALLY good at handling baby things just as my youngest is no longer a baby. I'll have perfected the teaching of phonics just as the youngest has moved on to novels. I'll be superb and teaching intro piano just as she moves on to more advanced teachers. Sigh. Years of tweaking and trying and I know eventually there won't be any tots left.
Are my grown-up kids going to want any my wealth of knowledge for use on their kids?
Newsflash!: I have just been hit with a newfound respect for grandparents. If you are a grandparent, please come visit and teach my kids everything you possibly can. I'm sure you've mastered it by now.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Stories: 7 Years Ago
My sister published a blog about how her little girl parrots back all the things she says (although, especially with a few cuss words, that wasn't the desired outcome.)
It reminded me of years ago when Xander was 1 1/2 years old. We were at church in the lobby, and he was playing around with other toddlers. While running, he bumped into a very tall potted (fake) plant and it began to tip over. As it was falling over, I remember the thought racing through my mind..."WHAT is he going to SAY?" These truly are the moments when a mother's secret language is sure to be revealed!
As the plant continued to tip, he shrieked, "Oh MY GOODNESS! WHAT HAPPENED!?!" And I had to chuckle under my breath. Those were exactly the words I'd been using around the house every time something came crashing down.
Xander was always precocious with speaking. He started saying real words at 9 months and by 18 months he was pretty much as fluent as any kid. I remember when we were on a plane and someone asked him, "How old are you?" and he answered, "Eighteen months old." and I said, "well, honey, you're only sixteen months old" and he said, "I'm big enough for eighteen months."
On that same trip, he dragged his tiny floppy monkey doll with him and my friend asked him, "Do you like your monkey?" and Xander solemnly answered, "He's my best friend." Even with his big wisdom, we had a hoot having him point out who were the women and who were the men present at our party. Isn't that a fun game to play with every 18 month old (they're sure to make a few errors?)
Later my aunt and mom were babysitting him and playing with toy cars. She held one up and he said "car." My aunt said, "Oh! You know the word car!" to which he responded "flag" (since there was a flag on the car). "Oh! You know the word flag too?" to which he added "stars" (since it was an American flag.)
I figure it's not gloating to write about my bright little cuties if it was almost a decade ago...it's just reminiscing. And, to be honest, I need to get the record down so I can tell him these stories at his graduation. Just one final story...
About that same time, I remember having a dream. I dreamt that I was happily sharing the company of my son, Xander, as he stood before me as a young man on a sunny day. He was probably 18 or so, and a handsome boy. I felt pleased to be with him and was delighted with the man he'd become, but I remember thinking, "Oh, I wish he were just a toddler again, so I could scoop him up in my lap and rock him." While thinking that, I awoke from my dream. Tiny sleeping Xander was just in the next room, breathing softly and reminding me to make the most of the days we have together.
It reminded me of years ago when Xander was 1 1/2 years old. We were at church in the lobby, and he was playing around with other toddlers. While running, he bumped into a very tall potted (fake) plant and it began to tip over. As it was falling over, I remember the thought racing through my mind..."WHAT is he going to SAY?" These truly are the moments when a mother's secret language is sure to be revealed!
As the plant continued to tip, he shrieked, "Oh MY GOODNESS! WHAT HAPPENED!?!" And I had to chuckle under my breath. Those were exactly the words I'd been using around the house every time something came crashing down.
Xander was always precocious with speaking. He started saying real words at 9 months and by 18 months he was pretty much as fluent as any kid. I remember when we were on a plane and someone asked him, "How old are you?" and he answered, "Eighteen months old." and I said, "well, honey, you're only sixteen months old" and he said, "I'm big enough for eighteen months."
On that same trip, he dragged his tiny floppy monkey doll with him and my friend asked him, "Do you like your monkey?" and Xander solemnly answered, "He's my best friend." Even with his big wisdom, we had a hoot having him point out who were the women and who were the men present at our party. Isn't that a fun game to play with every 18 month old (they're sure to make a few errors?)
Later my aunt and mom were babysitting him and playing with toy cars. She held one up and he said "car." My aunt said, "Oh! You know the word car!" to which he responded "flag" (since there was a flag on the car). "Oh! You know the word flag too?" to which he added "stars" (since it was an American flag.)
I figure it's not gloating to write about my bright little cuties if it was almost a decade ago...it's just reminiscing. And, to be honest, I need to get the record down so I can tell him these stories at his graduation. Just one final story...
About that same time, I remember having a dream. I dreamt that I was happily sharing the company of my son, Xander, as he stood before me as a young man on a sunny day. He was probably 18 or so, and a handsome boy. I felt pleased to be with him and was delighted with the man he'd become, but I remember thinking, "Oh, I wish he were just a toddler again, so I could scoop him up in my lap and rock him." While thinking that, I awoke from my dream. Tiny sleeping Xander was just in the next room, breathing softly and reminding me to make the most of the days we have together.
Watsu Massage
This week I had the rare opportunity for a free watsu massage.
Typically performed in a specially designed pool heated to body temperature, Watsu is a series of gentle movements and stretches intended to relax your body. It was invented in 1980 by Harold Dull, a Northern California massage therapist who offered the treatment in local hot springs. It incorporates techniques from zen shiatsu, an ancient Chinese pressure-point therapy believed to release blockages along the body's meridians where chi, or energy, flows.
So, I had responded to an email from Tina that she was a new watsu therapist, looking for willing subjects for her practice session. Since an hour of watsu is usually $150 and I thought I deserved a treat (and I have all kinds of knots in my hip from raquetball), I decided to give it a go!
I had already been in the 91-degree-warm pool for 2 1/2 hours, teaching my aerobic and swim lessons, but when work was over, I was ready to relax. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and sunk back into a backfloat while Tina used one hand to hold my head and neck, and the other to push my floating body this way and that. Even as we started, she stated with glee, "This will be a great practice session!" because she could tell I was relaxed and trusting enough to go for anything and not be uptight about being held and massaged, in the water.
So, I lay back and breathed easy. The few times I peeked my eyes open, my suspicions were confirmed - that although I was being rolled this way and stretched that way, we were always in motion, turning and flowing through the water. The resulting effect was a pleasant one - any limbs not involved in the current stretch or bend were free to drift and swoosh through the water as we moved. The soothing flow of warm water coursing over my skin really was pleasant.
So, I have good things to say for watsu! I always felt safe, my face was always dry, I was definitely relaxed and dreamy. The stretching was not as deep as if I had just gone to a yoga class, and the massage was not as deep as if I had gone for a table massage. For some folks, that would be just the ticket. I told Tina if she ever needs more practice to give me a call again for sure. However, I think I'll save my massage buckos to get the much needed hip and low-back repairs that I need, and only go for watsu if/when it's all-out nonsensical treat time.
Typically performed in a specially designed pool heated to body temperature, Watsu is a series of gentle movements and stretches intended to relax your body. It was invented in 1980 by Harold Dull, a Northern California massage therapist who offered the treatment in local hot springs. It incorporates techniques from zen shiatsu, an ancient Chinese pressure-point therapy believed to release blockages along the body's meridians where chi, or energy, flows.
So, I had responded to an email from Tina that she was a new watsu therapist, looking for willing subjects for her practice session. Since an hour of watsu is usually $150 and I thought I deserved a treat (and I have all kinds of knots in my hip from raquetball), I decided to give it a go!
I had already been in the 91-degree-warm pool for 2 1/2 hours, teaching my aerobic and swim lessons, but when work was over, I was ready to relax. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and sunk back into a backfloat while Tina used one hand to hold my head and neck, and the other to push my floating body this way and that. Even as we started, she stated with glee, "This will be a great practice session!" because she could tell I was relaxed and trusting enough to go for anything and not be uptight about being held and massaged, in the water.
So, I lay back and breathed easy. The few times I peeked my eyes open, my suspicions were confirmed - that although I was being rolled this way and stretched that way, we were always in motion, turning and flowing through the water. The resulting effect was a pleasant one - any limbs not involved in the current stretch or bend were free to drift and swoosh through the water as we moved. The soothing flow of warm water coursing over my skin really was pleasant.
So, I have good things to say for watsu! I always felt safe, my face was always dry, I was definitely relaxed and dreamy. The stretching was not as deep as if I had just gone to a yoga class, and the massage was not as deep as if I had gone for a table massage. For some folks, that would be just the ticket. I told Tina if she ever needs more practice to give me a call again for sure. However, I think I'll save my massage buckos to get the much needed hip and low-back repairs that I need, and only go for watsu if/when it's all-out nonsensical treat time.
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