A better December

On November 30 I had this great idea to do an advent calendar of activities for December. I was able to pull it together that night and we had a better December. Each little stocking in our advent calendar had a special activity for the day. I planned it out on a calendar before I put the activities in the stockings. I started with things we were going to do anyway--a friend's wedding, the victorian Christmas party, going to Utah--then added in some extras--visiting a new park, baking--and finished off with a few gimmies--read a Christmas book, learn a Christmas song.

We had fewer meltdowns and tantrums this month. This is likely a combination of having something for her to do and getting accustomed to the new baby. It was also good for me. I do better when I stay busy. Having regularly planned things to do kept me getting showered every day and getting out of the house almost every day. And, I've got to think happy mom = happy kids.

It's just not realistic to keep an advent calendar style activity schedule going every month all year long, but I'm taking the basic principles with me into January. I'll make sure we have a few things to do every week that get us out of the house. So far, we're looking into art classes at the museum downtown and dance classes. (Thanks, Grandparents!) We'll also get zoo memberships again, so maybe once a month we can fit in a zoo or safari park day.

On having perfectionistic tendencies

I don't like wasting food. I get a sense of satisfaction when amounts of different foods work out together. For example, we were camping and had hoagie rolls for sandwiches. A part of me felt relieved when one of the rolls fell on the ground; we then had the perfect amount. I bought feta for something last week. I planned recipes this week that will use all the feta and not leave me with other extra ingredients to use.

I don't like using the same sponge to clean dishes that I use to wipe counters or the stovetop.

I threw away a toothbrush because it fell over and the bristles touched the big brush Blake uses to clean the tub.

I keep lists. I plan ahead.

~~~

I was laughing with some coworkers once about our specific OCD-like behaviors. The clinic I work at still uses paper charts. I can't handle having the papers punched unevenly. I am careful with my charts to make sure the hole punches are all lined up. If I get a chart from someone else and they didn't punch carefully, I will take apart and re-punch the entire chart so they line up. V thought this was totally unbelievable and nuts. Then C said, "Yeah, but I've seen how you have the shoes in your closet!" and we all laughed. It started when D said how much it bothers her when people leave time on the microwave and don't push cancel to revert to 0 or to the clock. I agreed and said at home if I walk by the microwave and it's still showing some time, I will always push cancel to get it back to 0.

I was relaying this conversation to Blake at home, and he was surprised by a lot of the little things I do. He said, "Wow! It must be really difficult for you to live with me." We laughed.

Is it difficult? Yes and no. Sure, it'd be great if he were exactly like me on some of these things. But he's not, and that's okay. I learned with college roommates that if I wanted to have something clean or done a certain way, I should just do it myself. It's not fair for me to impose my standards on others. I get that. It's probably kind of good that Blake and I aren't the same on all the cleaning things. Because then our house would never get dusted (I hate dusting) or decorated. We'd be way too practical for our own good.

I can't even . . . I just can't (or why my kid thinks I'm the worst mom ever today)

She's been potty trained for a year and a half. Today she walked into the bathroom and peed on the floor. I know accidents happen. I believe this started as an accident, and then she just kind of froze. On another day, in another mood, I might have gone in to help her. Today I was feeling like I just couldn't take one more mess, one more something someone needed from me. I made her clean it all herself. I talked her through it but didn't get up from the chair I was sitting in.

She was super grossed out when her socks got wet. There was some screaming as she struggled to get wet pants off. I asked her to take the wet things to the laundry. She just closed the bathroom door and told me it was done. I did that mom thing where I asked her if she was sure, if I should go check. She said not to check yet and went back into the bathroom. She used her feet to kick all the wet things--socks, underwear, pants, bathmat, and rag used to clean--to the washer. She complained about it taking so long. I suggested she could use her hands and it would go faster. She said "No! Then I'd get peepee all over my hands." Funny. That's what I was thinking.

In the end, she was so happy to come tell me to check the bathroom now. She was quite proud of herself, and we did some excited high-fives. Parenting win!

End of year wrap up (really, Book Review)

I'm looking back at my 2014 goals.
1) Become a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in the state of California. DONE!

2) Read one book per month. DONE! And then some! Here's my very short reviews of what I've read since my mid-year goal update:

• A Million Little Pieces, James Frey: I picked this up at the thrift store without knowing anything about it. Blake mentioned that there was some controversy surrounding the book. I decided to read it first before exploring the controversy. It's about the author's experience in rehab. I found some of it to be quite compelling and thought the stream-of-consciousness style to work pretty well for describing the emotional and physical roller coaster of detox and recovery. However, as the book was coming to a conclusion, I was bothered by how easily everything wrapped up. It seemed that all the things that could possibly have gone wrong for this man did and that it all resolved in a few short months. It seemed a little too dramatic, a little too convenient. When I went to research the controversy after finishing the book, I found that to be at the heart of it: the book he was passing as completely autobiographical was, in fact, fabricated or at least heavily fictionalized. It was still an interesting read.
• The Honor Code: How moral revolutions happen, Kwame Anthony Appiah: I picked this one up several years ago when Borders was going out of business. I thought it looked interesting, but it's taken me a while to get around to reading it. This was definitely not a fast read. I loved it. Appiah takes the reader through three moral revolutions--the end of the duel, the end of the atlantic slave trade, and the end of foot-binding in China--and argues that changing ideas about the concept of honor are at the heart of the changes. He points out that logical arguments against the practices had been around for years before the changes, and that logical arguments weren't enough to make cultural change. What changed in each instance was the perception within the society of what was thought to be honorable. He then applies these principals to a current situation--honor killings in Pakistan--and discusses how they might be stopped. Fascinating.
• Americanah, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: This book was chosen as book club read for the Orange County WAVE group. (WAVE is Women Activating for Voice and Equality. It's a Mormon group.) I never would have found it if not for the book club, and I loved it. It tells the story of a Nigerian couple, one who emigrates to America and one to England; both eventually return to Nigeria. The woman who comes to America eventually finds success as a blogger; she writes primarily about race. The book itself was interesting, and the book club discussion was invaluable. Race is something so rarely discussed openly in American culture. It was fascinating, enlightening, refreshing, and somewhat uncomfortable to so openly discuss race in the book club. I definitely recommend this one.
• What it is Like to Go to War, Karl Marlantes: This book was the focus of a city-wide read sponsored by Riverside public libraries and the California Humanities Council. Marlantes is a Vietnam War veteran. His book discusses the spiritual and psychological experience of war. Each chapter centers on a different topic: loyalty, bravery, spirituality, honor, returning home, etc. My eyes were opened in a few important ways, and there are things I see differently now as a result of reading his book. He places a lot of responsibility on lawmakers: the soldiers are their weapons. He suggests that our military does not adequately prepare soldiers to deal with the spiritual aspects of war, being in a position to take a life. He talks about the importance of community and reintegrating returning combat veterans. The best part about reading this was that the author came to the municipal auditorium downtown to talk about the book and his experiences. It was fantastic.
• Wolf in White Van, John Darnielle: This was another book club book. Blake has been running an online book club, they read this book, and I picked it up because it was laying around the house. This is another I never would have chosen for myself. I can't say that I really enjoyed reading it, but I totally enjoyed talking about it. Blake and I discussed it while waiting for our Thanksgiving dinner and then I participated in the skype discussion with his book club. If you ever read it, let me know. I liked talking about it.
• The Memory Keeper's Daughter, Kim Edwards: This is another book I picked up blind at a thrift store, and I loved it. I found myself completely engrossed. The story starts with a doctor (in the 50s or 60s, I think) who ends up delivering his own twins in a snow storm. The boy is normal and the girl has down syndrome. His wife is heavily sedated during the birth. He decides to have his nurse take the girl to an institution and tells his wife that she died at birth. The nurse decides to keep the child and raise her as her own. I loved the author's depictions of the way this secret, this one decision, changes the lives of them all and continues to affect them, though in the case of the mother and brother, they don't even know that there is a secret. The mother's grief was particularly moving. 
• When Women Were Birds: 54 variations on voice, Terry Tempest Williams: I just finished this and loved it. There was so much here that was moving. The book starts with Williams describing how as her mother approached death, her mother told her that she was leaving her journals to Williams and gave the instruction to wait until her mother was dead to read them. After her mother's death, Williams finds the journals and opens them. They are all blank. Years of journals, all blank. Williams then spends 54 short chapters musing on what the blank journals mean and exploring the importance of voice and women's voices. I thought a lot about my own mother, my grandmother, my daughters, my voice. I just found this so moving. I highly recommend this one as well. 
• Hang a Thousand Trees with Ribbons, Ann Rindaldi: We were waiting at the library for Santa to come. This book was in the young readers section and caught my eye. It's a historical fiction about Phillis Wheatly. So far so good.

3) Write one blog post per week. Check! I haven't been as consistent as I had hoped to actually write once per week. However, I have been keeping track, and I will average one post per week. I'm actually drafting this mid-december with the plan to publish it as the last post of the year.

4) Pull my program at work out of the hole. I think I did this. I've gotten some nice feedback while I've been on maternity leave that I'm missed, that at least some of my employees can't wait for me to come back, that things don't run as smoothly without me there. Mid-way through the year I changed this goal to be to not be working there anymore. I did this too, sort of. I mean, I'm on maternity leave, so I'm not working right now. I'm still trying to work out if I'm going to to go back and what that might look like. 

Overall, 2014 has been a really good year for us. I got my license, Blake got a job, we had a daughter. Really, what more can we ask for? I'm hoping 2015 will also be good. I'd be okay if it were less stress than 2014. We don't need big things, just calm and happy and stable.

On why I won't force displays of affection: Safety

First, some statistics:
~1 in 3 American women will be sexually abused during their lifetime
~1 in 4 women and 1 in 6 men will be sexually assaulted before the age of 18

The perpetrators are more often than not people the victims know, especially with children. Perpetrators will groom their child victims, developing special relationships, ensuring secrecy. (To write or even think about this stuff turns my stomach when thinking in the context of my family, my children.) In our family of four, three of us are female. Statistically speaking, the odds are against us. 

I won't ever force displays of affection from my children in an attempt to prevent them from becoming victims. I love that my daughter will tell me "Mama! I said no" if I try to hug or kiss her against her will. If someone looking to groom a victim encounters that from her they may decide to leave her alone. She was running around the house in her underwear and a friend of ours playfully touched her chest. She said "don't touch me there," and my mama-heart screamed "Yes!"

When I was quite young, I was tickled by a grown man who was a stranger to me but known to my parents. I hated it. Let me stress that: I hated it! Nothing I did made him stop. Saying "no" or "stop, stop" only made him tickle me more. I'm sure he thought he was just being playful, but it was miserable for me. My experience is not unique. I won't force affection and will respect the boundaries my daughters set for their bodies because I want to develop in them the idea that they have control of their bodies, they get to say. We teach this by example. When she says "stop," we stop. If we say "stop" or "don't climb on me" or "that hurts," we mean it. It goes something like this "I said stop. I don't want you touching me/climbing on me. It's my body, and I get to say. So you need to stop." We say this to her, and I love when she says it back to us. (Usually it's in some completely nonsensical way, like "It's my body, and I want a cookie. It's my body. Okay?") It is not unlikely that at some time in their lives, someone will touch them in a way they don't want. When they say "no" or "stop" and the person doesn't stop, I want them to be incensed. I want it to feel wrong, completely and absolutely wrong, not normal, something that happens all the time.

We also will not project on her that saying "no" when someone wants affection from her is flirting or teasing. It's not. Sadly, there will be times in their lives that they will be the recipients of unwanted advances. Again, when they say "no" and that isn't respected, I hope it will feel to them completely inappropriate and not familiar. In our house no means no. We take consent seriously. We don't do mixed-signals.

We are well-aware that taking this strict of a stance within our families and with our friends is not the norm. We may seem extreme or harsh. We may hurt feelings. We don't care. We will privilege our daughters' safety above potential hurt feelings from the adults in their lives. (I step in with kids, too. At the playground or with cousins or friends, I will reinforce "she said no, so you need to stop.") If you are ever one of those adults who feels a little offended or rejected that our daughter(s) don't want to hug you or kiss you or say "I love you," deal with it. Perhaps you can offer some other socially appropriate but less-invasive way of doing the same thing: a handshake, a high-five, a wave. We will be grateful to you for helping keep our daughters safe.

On Why I Won't Force Affection: Valuing displays of affection

We don't force displays of affection from our daughters. We always give them a choice and honor their decisions when they say no, even with us. When I tuck Bonnie into bed, I ask her if I can give her a kiss. Sometimes she says yes and sometimes she says no. A couple times I haven't heard her 'no' or have been leaning in without waiting for her response, and she gets quite upset. "I said no, mama!" I love this. I love that it is normal for her to have her personal boundaries respected. (more on this in another post)

I have a few distinct memories from my childhood where affection was forced. I'm sure it happened more than the few times I specifically remember. I'll share one now. We were in front of our house in Orem, the one across from Reese. I was being brought home from a visit with my dad. It was dark. My mom was standing in the open door, the light on behind her. I was standing on the sidewalk. I wanted to go to her. I couldn't leave until I said "I love you" to my dad.

What does a hug or kiss or "I love you" mean if it's forced? Nothing, really. The problem for me was that it happened so much, it was such a way of being that even I didn't know if I meant it. It was just what you did, what you said. I went through a time in my twenties where I needed to put concerted effort into sorting this out. It's a pretty dangerous thing while dating to have this pattern. I said "I love you" because you said it to me. I'll hug and kiss you because you want to do it to me. The relationship moves right along and all of the sudden it's serious, and I don't know if I even like the person I'm dating!

Now, when someone says "I love you" to me, my usual response is "thank you." Saying "I love you" doesn't automatically get the same in return from me.

I think forcing displays of affection cheapens it. It's because I (really we, because my husband is totally on board with this) value honest intimate relationships and affection that I won't force it. My kids don't have to love or hug or kiss anyone, even me. And you know what? When my little one wants to be snuggled or grabs my attention to say, "Mama! I love you" it melts my heart, because I know it comes from her heart.

Current annoyances

1. When the bag of bread gets closed too tightly and the slices of bread get all misshapen.
2. When my daughter pulls the towels off the rack and leaves them in a pile on the bathroom floor. I get that she's too little to put them back on, but there's no reason to pull them off!
3. That so many people act as if our going out in public is an invitation to talk to us or comment on us. This has been going on Bonnie's whole life but really ramped up since I was visibly pregnant. I'm just trying to live my life. I don't owe it to anyone to answer questions about how old my children are, what their names are, how they're adjusting, or what my body's doing.
4. The Santa manipulation. We have already chosen nice, reasonable christmas gifts for our kids. Then they go see Santa. And since she's asked Santa very for something very specific, we feel pressure to buy it for her.