Life Lessons

Life Lesson #57: Don't let a white girl help you rinse your hair at the YMCA.



I've talked some about Yordanos' hair issues. Her hair is HUGE, and sometimes has a life of it's own. As it gets longer, we have to work harder and harder to keep the clumps out. Yes, clumps. If she wanted to do dread-locks, it would be absolutely NO problem... just let the clumps clump. Or maybe, if you're familiar with the properties of wool, you'd see that her hair will actually felt and make a water impervious shield-clump. Hmmm... we have had trouble finding hats to fit her a.) big head, and b.) her big head with big hair. Puffs do not fit under hats... not any hat that I've found.

After the big soccer weekend, I got her in the tub and performed a clump-ectomy. Not too bad since we'd done a massive 2 and a 1/2 hour detangling the weekend before.

Lee took the kids swimming at the Y yesterday with a couple of friends. Yordanoas wanted to wash her own hair after swimming. With deep misgivings, I said yes, and we went over the rules of hair care... only rinse and wash one direction - front to back.

Weeeeellllllllllll, she comes home with the whole back of her hair matted up. 2 big mega-clumps covering the back of her head. So, predictably, I get angry, she gets defensive, claiming it's not her fault.

ME: Well, whose fault is it then, because it's NOT MINE! And now we have to spend the whole evening detangling.

Y: I don't want to! I hate my hair! Why can't we do it tomorrow?

Me: It will just get worse if we leave it. We have to do it!

Y: Why are you mad at me? It's not my fault.

Me: It doesn't matter whose fault it is, we have to do it tonight.

Y: It was M! She helped me rinse my hair. (Turns out she rinsed it like you would rinse it if you had short straight hair, like hers.... by running your fingers up from the base of the neck.)

Me: Oh. Well. We still have to do it.

So, people, really, I was put OUT. This was going to be at least an hour's worth of work, which neither of us wanted to do, especially since we'd just detangled the day before. I wasn't even mad at the other child, I just didn't want to spend the evening making my daughter cry. Because, it really hurts when I have to rip the hair apart to get little clumps out of the big clump, then get 10 hairs at a time out of the little clump until it's gone. It makes a terrible sound, and she's crying and I'm crying, etc, etc...

Well, we got through it. I had M, the friend, come read to us while I pulled the clumps apart. It did take an hour or so, and we were all exhausted. As I was rinsing her head, Yordanos said, "Mommy? Thanks for getting the clumps out. You did a good job." Well, you can't pour burning coals on my head any more effectively than that. We hugged and kissed, and I told her that I didn't like that her hair hurts, and that she did a good job.

Anyway, she says she will not try to wash her own hair at the YMCA, and we had a talk with the friend about the right way to do it.

Oh, the Humanity!

One of the hardest things about parenting is that you find yourself trying to parent HUMAN children. And, unfortunately, you find yourself, gasp... human, as well. So terribly human.

You want a story now, I suppose...

Lee had yesterday off for Columbus Day, so we went to the pumpkin patch and the apple orchard. (Oh, and, all of Illinois' children who were off school? They were all at the apple orchard. All of them.)

That made today a Monday, for all intents and purposes. Habtamu, predictably, cannot take the resumption of our regular days. He went into, well, let's just call it "ornery" mode while using his spelling words in sentences. I corrected him on one very small point of grammar, gave him options of what would be right, and he, predictably, made it seem like the end of the world. "I Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't!" "It will be wrong whatever I do!"

I try very hard to be a reasonable person, but this behavior makes my anger level go from 0 to 120 in 2 seconds. It's not like I hit his knuckles when he uses English incorrectly. I don't berate, belittle, or in any way indicate that I am displeased when I correct him. His overreaction to my correction is, well, there's obviously something deeper going on. Me getting angry doesn't help, but, OY! Do I want to whap the back of his head with my pencil? Yes! But, do I? No. Instead I take the higher road, and try not to take his anger personally.

Then, I try to think of the good days like yesterday...

Grumpy

Now, if I asked you this question first thing in the morning, what would your response be? Angry? Defensive? Kind? Patient?

"Are you going to be grumpy like you were yesterday?"

Now, if the same question were asked to an ultra-sensitive sibling first thing in the morning, what would his response be?

Now, let's say that the 2 people asked the offending question got themselves together and became happy again, like we were first thing in the morning, what effect would that have on the one who asked the question?

Would she

a) get herself happy, since the other people were now happy?
b) become grumpier, and get sent to her room?

Just a Minute

Literally... that's all I have. This week is all-soccer-all-the-time. 4 away games between now and Sunday.

People are still asking me when we will put the kids in school. Any of our reasons to keep the kids don't seem to matter when faced with the overwhelming opinion that a) I need the break, b) the kids will respect someone else more than me as a teacher, c) they need to be "socialized", d) they are somehow missing out on the public school experience, and e) it's just plain odd to be homeschooling. This last one is never spoken out loud and yet it is there. Please, please, give us homeschoolers the benefit of the doubt that we are doing what we think is right for our children. Not your children, but OUR children. I will get off my soapbox now. Also, you may realize this from raising your own children, but the more someone tells me I'm not "doing it right," the more I dig my heels in. I'll yield if I'm just being stubborn, but we've gone round and round the whole schooling issue, and so far the pros of being home outweigh the cons.

Anyhow, on the subject of school. This year got off to a better start. I converted a whole room into our classroom, gave the children their own drawers and work spaces. We usually do about 3 hours of school a day. This includes writing, spelling, reading, and math. There is often another enriching subject thrown in too. A friend of mine and I sat down last night and decided what we were going to co-teach our kids this year. We divided up the subjects by what we each felt comfortable teaching, which pretty much covered the whole list. Neither of us like poetry, but we decided we shouldn't cripple our children with our dislikes. (Wish me luck! I drew the short straw.)

I had her 2 kids over yesterday and we studied about the solar system in general and did a craft with the planets and their order from the sun. I plan to continue the space theme, as it was pretty popular. The kids all asked good questions... lots about the sun and moon, so next time will be devoted to the moon.

My time is UP. Rats. Off to Soccer. (Oh, yes, it's capitalized to show it's importance to us right now... just like the other 's' word: Sleep.)

I know, I know....

Where's all that awesome blogging been? Ha ha. Soccer started and, man, is she a needy sport.

SOCCER!

I had a friend ask me if Lee and I were mad at she and her husband, because we haven't hung out since this summer.

SOCCER!

A friend's children asked her why my children HAVE to play soccer now, and will they ever see them again?

SOCCER!

Filled out my calendar with all H and Y's games and had to give myself an adrenaline shot straight to the heart. 10 games didn't SEEM like that much. Until it doubled when Yordi joined up.

SOCCER!

One tournament didn't seem like such a big deal until it became 3 tournaments in September alone. Next one is in October.

SOCCER!

Practice 3 nights a week seemed totally doable back in August, until the tournaments and games started.

SOCCER!

The kids are having a great time, and honestly, it's one of the few things I don't have to strong arm them into. I say, "Soccer practice tonight!" and they say, "Do I wear the green or white shirt?" (They have 2 practice shirts, which should, in theory, cut down on my laundry, but somehow I'm always washing soccer stuff.)

If you want to see us, we'll be at a soccer something-or-other until the middle of November. Oh, yeah, and probably LOVING it. It's fun to watch them play and improve. And, here's an awesome benefit ... having them run around for and hour and a half 3-4 times a week until 7:30 means they're asleep before Lee and I get to the bottom of the stairs.

I keep writing blogs in my head, but my head is usually on my pillow, and therefore nothing gets written, because I can never remember what I was thinking about as I was falling asleep, but I'm sure they were awesome.

Can I Have Your Autograph?

Click here for 1 of Yordi's 15 allotted minutes of fame.

Soccer Mom

I've been meaning to write this post for awhile. Most of you may already know that we have signed up both kids for a Soccer League. (Yes, it's supposed to be capitalized, so that you say it with the proper amount of reverence.) A new league started in our town, and a bunch of people from a competing league lost a bunch of players (defectors or traitors, depending on which league you are in) because they followed our coach.

Anyhow, this coach is from Nigeria, and everything he says is taken as gospel by Habtamu. We get lots of "Eno says..." and Lee and I look at each other and murmur, "Didn't we tell him that last week?" I'm all for backup from a big, tall Nigerian. I had to ask him to talk sense into H last night, who wanted to be a martyr because he forgot his jacket and wouldn't take the sweatshirt I offered. Eno asked, "Is he ok? Just playing the fool?" "Yep." "Habta! Put this on!" I talked to H later and said, "You know, I'll go to Eno if I need to, but I'd rather have you listen to ME when I tell you something." "Ok, mom." There may have been an eyeroll involved. (Possibly mine. I'm not saying.)

We were originally just going to sign Habtamu up, but someone got Yordanos to practice with the team, and she liked it too. Their practices are on the same days, back to back... meaning 3 times a week from 5-7:30. They have a 1/2 hour overlap.

They had their 1st tournament last weekend, in Elgin, so we stayed at Lee's folks' house, which is about 2 miles from the tournament. Habtamu's team (the under 13s, or U-13 co-ed) didn't win any of their 3 games, but Yordi's team (U-11 girls) won their second game. The big winner from our league was the U-18 girls. They won all 3 games (2 were shutouts) and won their play-off game. Yordi was so excited about them winning. "Hey! It doesn't matter that my team didn't win! The big girls won, and they're Shadows, and we're Shadows, too, so we all win." Indeed.

Yordi had so much fun playing, that, after the 1st game, she ran off the field toward us yelling, "Yay! We won!" "Um, no you didn't." "We didn't? Oh well, it was SO FUN!"

Habtamu was sad, of course, that they didn't win any. But, boy, you could see their improvement from one game to the next. They're the team with kids from the most different places... kids that have not played together before. (I guess the U-18 girls are like that, too, but they have the maturity and experience to be able to adapt more quickly.)

If we're not around much for the next, oh, infinity plus one, you'll know why. We're a soccer family now.

Frankly My Dear....

We were working on a project for Christmas out on the front porch. Yordanos reached for a marker, realized it was the wrong one, and said, "Damn."

I asked calmly, "What did you just say?"

She said, just as calmly, "Damn."

I said, "Oh, ok, that's what I thought you said. That's a bad word. We don't say that."

She said "Oh, ok." She paused, "Why is it a bad word?"

I gave a lame-o answer about some words being used in a bad way. Lee gave a much better answer later... that it means the opposite of blessing someone.

Then, of course, I tried to remember if I ever used "Damn" in front of them. It's not my swear word of choice, so I'm pretty sure it wasn't me.

HOWEVER, when you hear Yordanos say, "And I was like, YOU KNOW," you'll know that WAS me. D'oh.

Oh Relax! You'll survive

As you will see, the kids have really conquered their fears since last year's Tilt-a-Whirl experience, so we tried out Pharaoh's Fury (aka the Pirate Ship ride-thingy) at the fair this year. Unfortunately for them, their parents still have a twisted sense of humor and took pictures.



Click here if you really want to see the terror in detail.

Kids: Can't live with em, can't live without em

(Continuing with the Retro theme... I typed this on the fourth of August before Chris's brilliant parenting maneuver.)

Well, I don't know who had a longer day yesterday. It was either Habtamu who was angrified most of the day, or Chris who had to deal with him. The first call I got at work was, "Well, we're right back to where we started last year..." and I heard Habtamu banging around in the background. He had already stormed away from his school lesson, gone out to ride his bike but not actually done it, and then had been sent out twice since then. His MO is to tell everyone to leave and/or go away, but then if you do he follows you around and makes sure you know he's still there. Chris somehow remained calm through all this as we came to the conclusion that he was acting out because he was really nervous about his first official soccer practice that evening. Of course, you couldn't tell him that, but it became more and more apparent as the day wore on. Eventually I got a call from him, but it was pleasantly NOT like previous phone conversations... usually when he wants to talk, all I get is him yelling 'NO' over and over into the phone. This time he was clearly upset, but not yelling. I asked him if he figured out what was wrong yet. Usually this question gets a rabid, "NOTHING!" but this time I got a cracked, "I don't know." So we went over the basics. Hungry? No. Tired? No. Need the bathroom? No. Thirsty? No. Again... not the angry defiant "NO's" I'm used to, civil ones. We chatted a little longer and decided that taking the flat tire off his (old) bike would be a good change of pace and take his mind off things. It worked for a while. He came back in, got through school and lunch, and then proceeded to swing wildly emotionally the rest of the afternoon. By the time I met up with the family at soccer practice Yordi was bopping around the playground, Habtamu was stepping through a gauntlet of footwork drills, and Chris was totally shot but distracting herself by taking pictures of the team.

Things are much better than they were last year, but it's really frustrating how quickly we can slip into the old routines. Chris and Habtamu had a discussion about 'Fight or Flight' in an attempt to explain to him that pushing people away is a 'flight' response to being scared. It doesn't make him a bad person, but it doesn't excuse bad behavior. Chris and I talked about how even soldiers get training on resisting the 'flight' instinct and that we can help him deal with his fears. Who knows how much of it stuck.

Today was another day of iron sharpening iron. The kids had dental appointments this morning, which got Habtamu nervous and twichy. Chris reminded him that not only was his sister going first, but that this trip to the dentist would be exactly the same as the one 6 months ago. "I know mom," he said, "Different people different feelings." Chris seded the point and quit using the shame/logic angle and just comforted him. There was also some altercation that ended with Chris going into the bedroom alone feeling that nothing she said or did made a difference. Instead of just watching a movie and stewing, which they had been given permission to do, or finding something to bang on, which they didn't have permission to do but often do anyway, they came into the bedroom crying asking mommy to please keep telling them what to do because she knows everything. There were tears, group hugs, and even a mommy sandwich. Chris spent yesterday fueled by the knowledge that tonight she would get to go out to coffee with the ladies, and didn't even end up going.
Kids over coffee? What's this world coming to?