On Socialization

Recently my husband came home from work and told me about a conversation he had with two of his colleagues during lunch.  He said that one guy was discussing schools, the importance of choosing the right school, how expensive private schools are, and so on.  The other guy, who doesn’t have children yet, was taking this all in and seeming quite concerned about it.  Then they asked my husband where our girls will be going to school, and he replied, “We’re going to homeschool.”  Well.  They were shocked and asked all sort of questions, starting with “Why?” and quickly moving to “What about socialization?”

When my husband came home and told me about this my response was a knowing nod and chuckle.  “Hehe.  Yep, they always ask about socialization.  Ha ha ha.”  Then I laughed a little more, at myself, because that was me about five minutes ago.

I used to ask the same thing.  My initial reluctance to homeschooling when my husband suggested it was for that very reason.  Socialization.  Yes, the S-word.  It really freaked me out.  Then, I decided to actually educate myself on the topic and find out what socialization, in the context of homeschooling, is really all about.

When I started thinking about it, I ended up having to turn my ideas about the concept of “socialization” upside down.  Because really, what I think about as socialization, is based on my experience of having gone to public schools.  Naturally I, and most of the rest of society in this day and age, tend to think of regular school as the way for socialization to occur.  You go to school, you sit in a room with 25 or so other kids of your same age, you listen to a teacher a little bit, you pass notes, you do work from a book, you have recess, and so on.  When you get a bit older, you have school dances and football games and lockers and pep rallies.  Lots of things that I remember fondly from my days of going to school.

But those things are only one way to experience childhood and adolescence.  And really, I have lots of other memories of my school days that aren’t quite so pleasant, like the merciless teasing of one boy who was seen picking his nose in class one day, or the hateful taunting of a disabled girl in the lunchroom, or the passing of notes amongst tweenage girls saying something like, “Let’s be mad at Jenny,” for no reason other than to be mean, or the times when I was the one everyone chose to be “mad” at and spent recess alone.  And this was, of course, before the days of Facebook and Twitter and cell phone cameras and all sorts of other scary stuff kids have access to these days.

As I have learned about socialization and reflected on how kids are currently interacting in most regular schools, I began to realize that I don’t actually want my kids to be socialized in schools.  I don’t want them to have to face the mean girls of the world or various peer pressures all day every day without some back up or guidance from their Mom.  I know some people argue that kids need to go through the difficulties that come with school and peer interactions in order to grow into tough, independent adults.  But my thought in response to that idea is, “Why?”  Why cant’t kids learn to navigate the social waters of the world and become competent, caring, responsible citizens in a different way than what is currently set up in our culture?  Why do they need to go through an experience of being with many other children of the same age, under minimal supervision, while I have no idea what they’re doing, in order to be “socialized”?  Why does their main source of socialization need to be their peers?

So, in response to my own questions, I have decided that it doesn’t necessarily have to go down that way and have chosen to do it differently.  I have learned that homeschooling groups are abundant and so widely varied that I have found several sources of “socialization” that I think will fit with my worldview and the things I want my children to learn.  We will have plenty of social interaction.  We will do gymnastics classes and Daisies and other sports and recreational activities.  We will  get together for play dates, with children of varying ages, some of whom are homeschooled and some who aren’t (our best friends are not a homeschooling family).  We will go on field trips and do volunteer work and interact with people in the “real world” in many different ways, so that when it’s all said and done, I’m confident my kids will be at least as well socialized as kids who go to school.

And through it all, we will have lots of time together to figure out the rest of it.  If I’m honest, I have to admit that I still have no idea just how I’m going to homeschool.  I’m not sure if I’ll be good at it.  Though I am truly sold on the idea of it at this point, when I think about the logistics of doing it day to day, I start to panic a little bit.  But at least I can say this: whatever else they learn, I feel good about my ability to help my kids learn to be good social beings.  And I’ll keep working on figuring out the rest of it.

 

 

A (Long Overdue?) First Hair Cut

Miss is three and a half years old, and before today, she had never had a haircut.

I’ve been toying with the idea of having her hair cut for the last six months or so.  I just haven’t been able to get myself to do it.  I know she has been needing at least a trim, but I so loved her long hair.

And somehow, it seemed like getting her hair cut was such a big girl thing to do.  Like it would be the for real end of her babyhood.  Yes, I know she’s three and a half.  Her babyhood is past.  But it seems like just yesterday I was putting in her first pigtails.

I’ve never been much of a hair stylist.  Pigtails and ponytails or a barrette on the side about round out my hairstyle repertoire.  Even with my own hair, that’s about the best I can do.

I was quite proud of myself for styling this adorable bun when she was a flower girl last summer.

Fortunately for me, she went through a several-month-long ponytail period in the winter and spring.

Lately, she hasn’t wanted to let me do anything with her hair.  She almost never allows me to put her hair in pigtails or a pony anymore, and it’s been a bit difficult to even get her to let me put in a barrette.

So, I’ve been thinking for a little while I really ought to go ahead and have her hair cut.  But I was still a bit hesitant to do it.  Good thing my girl knows what she wants.  She told me a few weeks ago that she wanted her hair cut.  I waited just a bit before actually scheduling an appointment, to make sure she really wanted to do it.  When she mentioned it again last week, I went ahead and made an appointment.  She was so excited.

She did a great job sitting still for the stylist.

She didn’t like the clips in her hair, but she was okay with them when I told her they were only temporary.  This is the part where I almost cried.  And yes, we saved the first cutting of hair.

I love her little shy smile.

I was very relieved that she loves it.

I love it too.  She looks so grown up.

Quick Paleo Pork Tenderloin with a Pan Sauce and Roasted Vegetables

Before I started trying to conform my eating habits to the paleo diet, I had plenty of “go-to” dishes I made regularly.  When I didn’t have much time to prepare or cook dinner, I’d throw together tuna melts, several different dishes involving a flour tortilla (tacos, burritos, tuna wraps, etc.), or any number of quick pasta dishes.  Some of these dishes have been revised to fit with the way I try to cook nowadays, like by making seasoned meat or tuna and using a piece of lettuce for wrapping instead of the tortilla, guacamole instead of sour cream and cheese.  Some have been discarded entirely.  We don’t eat pasta anymore, so most of those are out, though I occasionally use spaghetti squash as a vehicle for some good sauce.  I’ve had to come up with a few new “go-to” meals.  One of my favorites is pork tenderloin with a pan sauce and roasted vegetables.  So yummy and quick.  And it doesn’t get any easier than this.

For pork and pan sauce you’ll need:

1 pork tenderloin (or more if you need)

Salt and pepper

Coconut oil (or olive oil)

1/2 cup white wine

2-3 Tbsp butter (cold)

For roasted veggies:

Preheat your oven to 400.  Get about 1-2 lbs of a good roasting vegetable.  We like asparagus, Brussels sprouts, cauliflower, butternut squash, and broccoli the most.  Cut into approximately evenly sized pieces.  Arrange on a big sheet pan, drizzle with a good olive oil, sprinkle with salt, toss to coat and put in the oven until done.  Usually about 20 minutes, depending on your vegetable.

While your veggies cook, trim the fat and silvery skin from the tenderloin.  Slice it into 1/2 – 3/4 inch thick medallions (try to make sure they’re all about the same thickness).  Use the side of your knife to press the medallions so they are about 1/4 – 1/2 inch thick.

Use a paper towel to pat the medallions dry on both sides.  Sprinkle both sides with salt and pepper. Heat a skillet over medium-high heat and melt about 1 Tbsp of coconut oil in the pan.  Give the pan and the oil time to get hot before you put the meat in (it should sizzle when it hits the pan).  Put several medallions in without overcrowding.  Cook for 3-4 minutes, then flip with tongs and cook the other side until done, about another 3-4 minutes.  Remove to a plate to rest and repeat until all meat is cooked.

After you’ve cooked all the meat, pour the wine in the pan and let it reduce for a few minutes.  Use a wooden spoon to scrape up all the bits of meat from the bottom of the pan.

After the wine reduces a bit, turn off the heat and add the butter (cut it into Tbsp-sized chunks first).  Stir until melted, pour in any accumulated juices from the plate where your meat has been resting, and the spoon the sauce on your meat (and your veggies if you want).  This is a thin sauce, not a gravy.  But it is yummy and fast.  Dinner!

What’s your favorite “go-to” dinner?

Because No Good Birthday Celebration is Complete Without a Little Vomit at the End

Yesterday we had a wonderful celebration at home for Lass’s birthday.  She started the day a bit less enthused than she was when we had her little party at my sister-in-law’s house.  That day she was telling everyone excitedly all day that it was her birthday party and she was going to blow out her candles.  On her actual birthday she woke up in a mood, and when I went to get her up and told her “Happy Birthday,” she frowned and said, “No I NOT!”  She did this all morning, complete with her exaggerated mad face (and sometimes the statement “I mad!”) and dramatic crossing of her arms over her chest.  Though I was wishing she was more happy about her birthday, it was quite adorable.

After her nap and by the time my husband got home she was a bit more cheerful and excited for her day.  The girls helped make dinner and we had ice cream sundaes for dessert, with a candle and singing of course.

Princesses were plentiful in her gifts, mostly Cinderella of course.  She got a beautiful new Cinderella dress complete with glass slippers and was in heaven dancing around in it, posing to see her reflection.

She also got a new set of mini-princesses, just like the Cinderella she carries around all the time.  She got Cinderella, Ariel, and Snow White, in wedding dresses, with their princes.  The new Cinderella was introduced to the old Cinderella and there was some kissing.


She likes the new Cinderella.

But my girl is nothing if not loyal.  The old Cinderella, whose dress is totally missing its skirt now, is still ever present in her left hand.

Sis enjoyed watching all the festivities and laughed at her sisters playing.

The birthday was a wonderful success, right up until the very end.  Just as I was getting ready to take Sis upstairs to put her to bed, Lass threw up all over her new dress and the kitchen floor.  Chaos ensued briefly, but we managed to get Lass a bath and all three girls to bed fairly quickly after that.  The birthday girl did sleep all night, though she woke up still feeling pretty yucky this morning.

We had a jammie day and watched movies.

She perked up a little bit before lunch.

We had a picnic dinner while watching Sleeping Beauty before bed.  You can see she’s feeling much better.

I think we may have found a new family movie night tradition…  Off to get ice cream.  Good night.

The #1 Sign You are a Mother of Several Very Young Children

Okay, maybe it’s not the #1 sign, but it’s up there.  If you’ve ever experienced this, you know what I mean:

You feel slight anxiety pulling into the parking lot of your grocery store/Target/Walmart, etc.  You drive around stalking for just the right parking spot, hoping and praying that you can find it.  You start to sweat a bit when you think you might not see it.  You’re trying to plan what in the world you will do if you don’t…  And then – Hallelujah!  You see it, and feels a little bit like a miracle.

The double cart.  In a cart corral.  With a parking space nearby.  I always get antsy as soon as I see it.  Hurry into my parking space and run for the cart before some other mom can snatch it from me.  I love the double cart.  With it, shopping nirvana is possible.  I can go into the store with an infant in an Ergo and my two “big” girls in the car cart, and all is right with the world.

P.S. Another sign that you are this mother is when you, who are normally so calm and certainly nonviolent by nature, feel a slight urge to throttle the sweet little grandma who is pushing her one grandchild in a car cart.  And he’s 12.

 

 

A Birthday Preview

Somebody turns two on Friday.

We had a little birthday party for her with my husband’s family while visiting with them this past weekend.  She was so excited, walking around all day leading up to the party telling everyone, “It my buh-day pahdy!”

She wasn’t quite sure what to make of it when everyone sang “Happy Birthday” to her, and she was a little hesitant at first about blowing out her candle.  But once she figured out what she was supposed to do she got it done and looked very proud of herself.

She had been waiting all day for this…

Miss got a big laugh out of the chocolate on her face.

I was a little nervous about how Miss would do in the face of seeing her sister get all kinds of cool presents when she wasn’t getting any for herself.  She’s in a “scream first, think later” phase right now, so I thought she might totally melt down.  Happily, she did not.  She did have a few moments of jumping around with “Ooh, I want that, I want that, can I have one of those?” but listened well when I explained things to her and didn’t scream or otherwise throw a fit.

I think she really was excited for her sister, and Lass shared her new loot quite nicely.  Sisters rock.

Even with all the gifts, this thing was the big hit of the evening.

Lass’s actual birthday is on Friday.  We will do lots of fun stuff and have a small party just with our family in the evening.  Instead of cake they’ll get to make their own ice cream sundaes.  I’m so excited.  I love when my girls have birthdays.  I love to see their excitement and joy.  Of course I also get all nostalgic and marvel at how big they’re getting and how all of their baby days seem to have flown by.  And I say it, every time, “I can’t believe she’s __!”  I can’t believe she’s almost two.

Twilight

I love the time right between day and night.  When the sun begins to sink and the heat of the summer day fades enough that cozy jackets are warranted.  When the littlest is in bed and the two big girls are excited because they know they’re up past their bedtimes for a special treat, playing with cousins, sitting around a campfire, toasting marshmallows and eating s’mores.

Miss is protesting the roasting of her marshmallow.

She prefers to eat the s’mores components separately and without the marshmallow being cooked and gooey.

And then there’s Lass…

I think this is like a little piece of heaven.  Special time with my husband and two older girls, a toasty fire as the twilight gives way to a cool night, and chocolate.  Yep.  Heaven.

The Iowa State Fair

Someone once wrote a book titled something like “1000 Things to do Before You Die.”  I don’t know who wrote it or what 999 of the things in the book are or whether I’ve done any of those things, but I do know that one of the things this person noted was the Iowa State Fair.  A must do before one dies.  Check.  Yesterday we rocked the fair and it was good.

My husband grew up going to the Iowa State Fair and loves it.  I first went when Miss was about six months old.  It was fun then.  There was lots of cool stuff to do and look at.  It was easy with just one immobile and good-tempered baby.  This time, though it was a little bit more tricky, and at times trying, it was so much more fun.  I loved, I mean loved, watching my girls do the fair.  There were so many fun experiences for them.  They got to see piglets being born.  They watched a lamb chasing and dancing around its mother to grab on to her and nurse.  They saw chicks hatching, and all sorts of other baby animals.  They got to play with butterflies.

Miss was so proud of herself for learning to catch the butterflies all by herself.  Lass had a heavier hand and needed some help to keep from clubbing them, but she eventually got it too.

A little later, Miss was very eager to ride the Big Yellow Slide.  We happened to eat lunch right near it, and she couldn’t even eat she was so anxious to get on that slide.  She was mad that she couldn’t go down by herself.  She went down with her daddy.  And she hated it.  It totally freaked her out.  Lass on the other hand loved it.  She went twice and wanted to keep going.

So true to their personalities.

Of course a day at the fair is not complete without trying various “fair foods.”  The girls have a book in which the characters go to a fair and eat cotton candy, so they were eager to try it.  Cotton candy is not one of my favorite things and I would not normally waste $4 on it, but I was excited to see what they thought of it.  Naturally Lass jumped right in and ate it up.

And Miss was not so sure.  She said, “Why is it dry?”  She didn’t love it so much.

I tried my first fried Snickers bar.  It was tasty, but I think I’d rather just have the Snickers.  Surprisingly, not everything in life is made more delicious by deep fat frying it.

We made up for the disappointing cotton candy with red velvet funnel cake.  Funnel cake is not really my thing (my belief about dessert is that, with very few exceptions, it’s generally not worth the calories if it isn’t chocolate) but the girls enjoyed it.  Again, Lass dug in with vigor.

We spent a lot of time looking at the animals.  They were the big hit of the day, from all the baby animals to the “Big Boar.”  His name was Reggie and he was over 1500 lbs, I think!  Though his size was impressive, the girls actually seemed to prefer the smaller animals, because poor enormous Reggie didn’t do anything but lay in the dirt.  The girls were really intrigued by other animals like bunnies, chickens, ponies, llamas, sheep, horses, normal-sized pigs, and an elk.  Miss’s favorite were the bunnies.

Lass’s favorite were the cows.  She asked to pet a new mama cow who was in the birthing barn with her calf, but there was a staff member posted near her specifically to make sure no one got too close.  That mama cow was very protective.  Gotta respect that.

We had so much fun looking at and talking about all the animals.  It was an amazing learning experience.  We talked about everything we saw, from how the baby chicks peck their way out of the eggs to why a sheep pooped in his water dish.  They’re still talking about that one.

A surprising favorite was the tractors.  My husband loves to look at them, but I wasn’t expecting my girls to get into them as much as they did.  They wanted to climb into every one and Miss got upset when we needed to move on to other things.

We saw as much of the Fair as we could in one too-short morning.  We got back to the Farm after a long drive and one of the first things Miss asked to do was to look at her Papa’s tractors!  She takes after her Daddy I guess.

We’re at the Farm this week, recharging and savoring the last of summer.  The Iowa State Fair was a wonderful addition.


Stay-At Home-Mom – What Do I Do All Day Anyway?

Originally posted 4/12
If you aren’t or have never been a stay-at-home mom (or dad), you might wonder what someone does who stays home with her kids all day.  I know I did before becoming a full-time mom myself.  I didn’t wonder about this in a malicious way.  Not like in a “what the H-E-double-hockey-sticks-does-she-do-all-day?” kind of way.  I just wondered.
Well.  Now I know.  So, what do I do all day?  Here’s an idea:
I create mountains with couch cushions.  I encourage.  I insist “you can do it.”  I cheer for accomplishments.  I help when necessary.
I do laundry.
Lass was having a really hard time climbing over this cushion and was getting frustrated watching her sister go up and down with ease.
I encouraged her to keep trying.
Here she’s saying “I did it!”  I love that moment.

I have tea parties.  I color.  I read aloud.  I ask, “What color is this?”  “What does (fill in this blank with some animal) say?” “What sound does (fill in this blank with some letter) make?” “What do you think about that?”  All. day. long.  I sing songs.  I sound out words.  I count everything out loud.  I answer “Why?”  and “Why?” and “Why?

I watch.  I praise.  I watch again.  And again.  And again.  I teach.  I spot.

Miss is really into working on headstands and handstands and showing off various other skills she is learning at gymnastics.  This reminds me of when my mom helped me learn how to do a cartwheel.  I wonder how many hours we spent working on them in our living room.  I want to do the same for my girls.

I kiss boo boos.  I teach manners.  And responsibility.  And problem solving.  And everything.

I discourage whining.  I try to reinforce more effective ways of communicating.  I try to teach my girls to be strong and direct.

I do laundry.

I referee fights over who gets to wear which headband.  Over who gets the little Cinderella doll (or “Wedda” as Lass calls her).  Over who gets to hold Baby Sis first.

I change diapers.  I wash diapers.  I fold diapers.

I nurse a newborn. I take forever to get out of the house.

I cook.  I clean up.  I cook.  I clean up.

I wipe mouths and noses and counters and hands and tables and rear ends.

I give baths.  I comb hair that is like silk.  I fix pony tails.  I say “You’re beautiful.”  “You’re smart.” “You’re strong.”  “You’re funny.”

I do laundry.

Baby Sis right after a bath

I help to outfit Super Heros.

Daddy helps them to fly.

Sometimes they crash.

I do more laundry.

I give lots of hugs.  And kisses.  I snuggle.  I tickle.

Sometimes I just sit.  And watch.  And I’m thankful that I am fortunate enough to be able to do all of these things and so much more.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Motherhood is a Profession

I’ve been struggling lately with a big issue.  Since shortly after Miss was born, I have worked as a forensic psychological consultant.  I have considered myself to be incredibly lucky to have secured this position.  Basically, I’m a small business owner.  I do consulting work for a company that has a contract to perform competency to stand trial evaluations. I get referrals from this company.  I set up an appointment at my convenience to go to the jail and complete the evaluation.  It only takes a couple of hours.  Then I write my report from home, usually during nap time or after the girls have gone to bed.  Occasionally I have to testify in a case (this is my favorite part).  It always seemed so perfect, because I never worked a ton.  Maybe one or two, sometimes three evaluations per month.  I could stay home essentially full time with my kids and still get an opportunity to do some of the work I spent so many years in school to be qualified to do.

For a little while before and a few months after Sis was born I took a self-determined maternity leave.  Now that I am back to working, my work load has drastically increased, and I’m getting lots of cases in other counties.  In the past month or so I’ve done seven evaluations in jails that are at least an hour drive away.  This has led to lots of time away from my girls.

Last Tuesday I didn’t get home until 6:30.  I had spent most of the morning working on reports and then had a long drive for a long evaluation.  On the way home I had this awful pit in my stomach, knowing that I would miss dinner and not have much time with the girls before bed time.  I had to watch my speedometer very carefully during the hour-and-a-half-long drive home that evening.  My mind and heart were protesting being away from my little girls and aching to get home, and my body was responding, pretty much involuntarily, with my foot repeatedly pressing down harder on my accelerator.

I got home and felt like I had barely seen my girls all day.  It was awful.

I did let Miss stay up a little bit late to watch Olympic gymnastics that night.

But I still felt like crap at the end of that day.

So.  Here I am tonight, having just finished up and sent off another report (my third this weekend).  I haven’t done a blog post in a week.  Because I’ve been spending pretty much every nap time and bed time working.  And I don’t really even enjoy the work anymore.  Work is no longer what’s important to me.

I used to find psychology to be so fascinating and I loved the challenges that my job presents.  Now?  Meh.  Psychology and evaluating criminals is no longer what I find fascinating.  This is:

Being a psychologist is part of my identity, and has been for almost ten years.  But.  Though it is a newer facet of my identity, being a mom way trumps being a psychologist.  Way.

A few weeks ago I seriously started to consider leaving my consultant position.  I felt very guilty about it.  Some of my guilty thoughts:

But I spent so many years training to be a psychologist.

But I used to love my job.

But I should feel so fortunate to have a position like this.

I thought about how I would feel to not be a psychologist anymore.  I wondered if I would feel sad.  Or lost.  Or, somehow, less.  I knew I was not happy spending so much time away from my girls these past few months, but I kept thinking I should ride it out.  I shouldn’t give up this amazing work opportunity.  I should keep this job so I can maintain my professional skills.

Then Tuesday happened and I was sick with missing my kids and I thought, “For what?”  All these shoulds, and no real good reason for them.  I once thought I needed to keep my skills so that I can go back to working more when my kids are in school.  Except I’m going to homeschool them.  

So I came up with a few more shoulds that make more sense to me.

I should take advantage of the opportunity I have to stay home with my girls and be present and happy with them.

I should remember that being a mom is a full time job, and it’s okay to have only one of those.

I should soak in all the wonderfulness that is these little beings that I am privileged to call mine.

I should take back nap time and bed time.  Seriously.  Any mama of preschoolers/toddlers/babies knows that you can’t give up all of these for long without going totally nuts.

Yes, I should.  So I’m going to.  After much discussion with my husband, my mom, and a good friend, I’ve decided I am going to leave my job.  Right now my priority is my family.  A little bit of work now and then was okay.  A lot of work is not (and in case you’re wondering, I have basically been told that I cannot decline referrals unless I’m out of town).  I am going to stop worrying about going to work and focus on doing the work of raising my kids.  I might be a little sad to not have my professional identity anymore.  But I have other things I’m going to focus on in my free time (more on that later).  And I’ll still technically be a psychologist.  I’ll always keep my license current.  Nothing says that I can’t go back to it someday if I want to.

The bottom line is this: I am a mom and my profession is Motherhood.  I prefer the title of “Mama” to “Dr.” any day.