Lawyer Mama

What Do You Do When Your Child is "That Child?"

This evening I fielded one of those phone calls every parent dreads.  It was my almost-four year old's pre-school teacher calling to talk about his behavior in school.

Holden is a sweet kid.  When he wants to be.  When he doesn't, he's, frankly, a brat.  He's stubborn, wants to do his own thing and doesn't care if he's punished.  One of his saving graces is that he generally fesses up when he's hit, kicked or bitten a fellow classmate and he takes his punishment.  But then he gets up from time out and does it again.

He won't sit in circle time.  If a task doesn't interest him or strikes him as "wrong" in some way, he refuses to participate.  Just refuses. 

For example, today, his teacher gave the class worksheets with a Christmas tree to color and decorate.  She asked the children to fill in the circles with red.  (This was an exercise to see how well they can identify their colors and follow directions.)  Holden piped up with, "But Christmas tree are GREEN!"  Even after his teacher explained that they were coloring the decorations first and then they would color the tree, he refused to do it.  He just sat there at the table while everyone else colored.

Holden hits and kicks the other children when he doesn't get his way and he honestly doesn't care if everyone else in the class is sitting quietly listening to a story - he's going to do what he wants. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm well aware that much of this behavior is normal for toddlers.  But the extent of the behavior is the problem.

In my mother's family, we have this legend about the male H---- Family gene.  My mother's 5 brothers and pretty much every male in my generation have all followed the same personality pattern, including my younger brother.  They're all opinionated, amazingly stubborn, don't do well in formal classroom or work settings, and like to do their own thing.  All of them are incredibly smart, but none of them did well in school.

I see all of this now in Holden.  But I can't help thinking that we can somehow break this pattern and help Holden learn how to fit his odd-shaped personality "peg" into the round "hole" that is school.  I know that the earlier we can help Holden with this, the better off he'll be.

Continue reading this post on the D.C. Metro Moms Blog....

Mommy Blogging and BlogHer '08

Don't worry, my peeps.  I'll write a "who went where and did what with whom" post about BlogHer eventually.  Probably a week after everyone else and no one will care anymore.  Heh.  I just have all these thoughts swirling around in my head that I need to get out there first.

Last year's BlogHer was all about connecting with other bloggers for me.  I went to most of the mommy blogging sessions, a writing session, and 1 political session.  I wasn't all that impressed.

The mommy session I enjoyed most last year was the one discussing whether Mommy Blogging was a radical act.  We covered a lot of ground, but we didn't really get into the meat of some interesting topics that came up: race, inclusion and exclusion, and using your blog platform to do something more.  Anyway, the consensus last year seemed to be that putting yourself out there with all your warts and wrinkles was a radical act.  In ripping the rose colored glasses off of motherhood, we were helping other moms and building a community of women who understood that it was OK to be less than perfect.

At the time, that was just what I needed to hear.  It helped me to admit that I had a problem.  I was depressed and I needed help.

Since I came back from my "mental health holiday" I've been a bit detached from the Momosphere.  I read the blogs of my friends in batches.  I read all of MOM-101's monthly posts one day.  Three days later I hit The Bloggess.  Two days later I read Mamma Loves or my lovely AD.  A week later I read Jess's posts and spend an hour afterward giggling to myself.  Gone are the days when I spent an hour every morning before the kids got up reading as many posts as I could in Bloglines.  Gone are the days when I went net surfing for new and fun blogs.  Hell, I'm lucky to just visit the blogs of those who comment on my blog.

The thing is, I know that Liz, Amie, Jenny, Jess, Jen, Tanis, Julie, Joanne (look at all those J's), Kyla, Bon, Sarah, Casey, Celeste, Gwen, Christine, Deb, Kari, Jenn, and all the rest of you, you know who you are, are my community.  If I need them, they will be there and I will be there for them.  Whether or not we've hung on each other's every written word for the last 3 months will be irrelevant.  We'll be there.

This year, I did not attend any of the mommy blogging sessions.  Nor did I attend the session titled "Is Mommy Blogging Still A Radical Act?"  I didn't attend because I know that I can answer that question for myself.  After 2 years of blogging, I've realized that I don't need to constantly talk about the highs and lows of parenting.  I've realized something and it's not going to be popular:

Mommy blogging is not a radical act.

Just writing about the good and the bad of being a parent is not in itself a radical act.  I'm sorry, but it's true.  It's simply not radical for me anymore.  Bad is the new good and everyone's bad in the way everyone used to be good perfect.

So just what is radical if simply writing about the bad isn't?

Stepping out from behind the anonymity of the computer and telling 1,000 women how you feel.

Writing, not just about the bad, but about hope.  Spreading that hope to others.  Writing to change yourself, or the world, or society's views, or change social policy.  Then, stepping away from your computer and doing something about it.

Acting.  Now that's radical.

This year I spent all of my time in the political sessions and I attended the lone photography session as well.  This year, I feel like I got much more out of the BlogHer sessions.  That's not to say that anyone who attended the other sessions was shallow or somehow less worthy, it's just that I've finally figured out where I belong. 

It's not necessarily with the Mommy Bloggers, where I figured I always fit best. Writing for MOMocrats this year, becoming active in politics both locally and nationally, has changed me.  It has elementally changed me.  I'll never be able to go back to being passive and uninvolved again.

I'll keep writing at Lawyer Mama.  I'll keep writing about my children and my joys and frustrations in life.  I'll keep calling this a Mommy Blog, because it is.  But writing here isn't a radical act.

I'll save my radical acts for the real world.

Sir Hollis, Squire Holden and the Quest for the Holy Baseball Cap

The N----- household, June 25, 2008, 7:45pm.

The scene opens as Hollis a knight in jammies armor and red velvet cloak gallops up on his trusty cat scratching post steed.

With plastic screwdriver sword drawn and blue blankie banner flying, he comes to a halt before the couch royal throne.

Knight: I am Sir Hollis, here to protect you.

Me: To protect me, Sir Hollis?  Who am I?

Sir Hollis: You are KING MOMMY!

Sir Hollis hands King Mommy an Elmo hammer scepter.

T: If she's King Mommy, then who am I?

Sir Hollis: You are a hobgoblin!

Hobgoblin: Where do I live?

Sir Hollis: In a tree with the rest of the hobgoblins.

King Mommy: But wait.  I need a crown.  If I'm going to be King Mommy, I'll need a crown.

Sir Hollis snatches the baseball cap off of T's the hobgoblin's head and places it on King Mommy's head.

Holden A squire pulls up on his red Lego cart strawberry roan.

Sir Hollis: King Mommy has a crown!

Sir Hollis & Squire Holden: Yeah!!!!!

(And there was much rejoicing.)

Sir Hollis: Now hobgoblin, go away!  Go back to your tree.

Hobgoblin (muttering): Jeez, thanks.

Hobgoblin exits to the kitchen Hobgoblin Tree, removing his baseball cap crown from King Mommy's head along the way.

Squire Holden: King Mommy's crown!

Sir Hollis (to Squire Holden): The hobgoblin stole the crown.  Let's go get it!  Wait!  I need a new horse. Hilly! (Our 12 year old cat.)

Sir Hollis (cupping his hand around his mouth): Oh, CatHorse! Oh, CaaaaaaaatHorse!

From behind the love seat hedge comes the sound of yowling and a "Stay still, Hilly!"  Sir Hollis emerges with a scratch on his hand and no new horse.

Sir Hollis and Squire Holden gallop off towards the kitchen Hobgoblin Tree.

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The scene opens with the Hobgoblin standing at the sink washing dishes.  (And a very enlightened Hobgoblin he is.)  Sir Hollis and Squire Holden arrive, galloping into the kitchen at high speed.

Squire Holden: Mommy's crown!  Give it back!

Sir Hollis: Bad, Hobgoblin!  Give us back King Mommy's crown!

Scuffling ensues and Squire Holden and Sir Hollis emerge triumphant.

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Back at the royal throne, Sir Hollis places King Mommy's crown upon her head once again.

King Mommy: I have a gift for you as a token of gratitude for your service and bravery.

King Mommy hands over a sippy cup to Sir Hollis and one to Sir Holden.

Sir Hollis & Sir Holden: Thank you, King Mommy.  Yeah!!!!

(And there was much rejoicing.)

Sir Hollis gets a mischievous look in his eye and snatches the crown from King Mommy's head and puts it on his own.

King Mommy: Whyest doth thou betray me, Sir Hollis?

Sir Hollis: It's my crown now!

Sir Hollis giggles lets out an evil laugh, and gallops off to the kitchen Hobgoblin Tree.

King Mommy: Squire Holden!  Will you rescue the crown from evil Sir Hollis?

Squire Holden's eyes light up and he begins to nod vigorously.

Squire Holden: Yes, King Mommy!  I'll get your crown back!

Squire Holden gallops off after Sir Hollis.

In the distance we hear plastic tools swords clashing and Sir Holden yelling, "Give it back to Mommy!"

Squire Holden returns triumphantly holding the royal crown aloft and places it on King Mommy's head.

King Mommy: Oh, brave Squire Holden, you have earned your knighthood.  You shall henceforth be known as Sir Holden.

King Mommy & Sir Holden: Yeah!!!!

(And there was much rejoicing.)

Sir Hollis comes galloping back with the Hobgoblin close behind.

Sir Hollis: King Mommy!

Sir Holden: King Mommy!

Hobgoblin: King Mommy!

Then Sir Hollis and Sir Holden climbed up onto the royal throne and snuggled into King Mommy's lap.  The Hobgoblin sat beside them and wrapped his arms around his royal family.

(And there was much rejoicing.)

The End.

It's good to be the King.

My Little Swimmer

Hollis started swimming lessons this week. I dreaded and anticipated this week in equal parts.

I've written many times about Hollis and his introversion, his fear of new things, his reticence around new people and in new situations. We've had mixed results around water up until now.  I want my boys to love the water like I do, but I've worried about Hollis and his reluctance to try new things.

At the beach last Summer, Hollis never wanted to go in the water. The "beach party," as he always refers to our beach trips, was all about playing in the sand. This year I can't seem to keep him out of the ocean.

In fact, when we're at the beach, I have to stand out in the water and turn him around every time he gets out to me, to keep him from going in over his head. Between Hollis and Hurricane "I am invincible" Holden, life guarding my two children is now a full time job. (Not a lot of Bacardi drinking has been happening at the beach this year.)

In our pool at home, Hollis was a bit more adventurous last Summer. He liked to have T drop him off the diving board into my arms, but he didn't want to blow bubbles or try to float for me. This year, we have a little issue with the pool - to the tune of $6000 for a new liner - that won't be fixed until late July because of order time. H&H do go swimming in their sitter's pool, but Hollis is always more fearless around Miss M's boys, whom he adores. So, going into swimming lessons, we weren't really sure what to expect.

I shouldn't have been worried.

On the first day, Hollis joined right in.  Despite being the youngest in his swim class, he sat on the side of the pool and patiently waited for his turn.  When his swim instructor asked him his name he proudly informed her that he was "Hollis G--- N------" and that he was 6 years old.  (He's 3 and he knows he's 3, but is constantly trying to convince everyone else that he's older.)

The instructors had everyone swim and kick for them and separated the class out by ability.  Hollis is with the big kids.  Frankly, this former competitive swimmer couldn't be more proud!

He gamely tries everything his instructors ask.  He kicks, he blows bubbles, he jumps into the pool, he dunks himself under water, all with a huge grin on his face. 

He loves it!

I'm so proud of my Big H for trying new things and being so brave.  This seems to be a new trend for him.  As he gets older, he becomes so much more confident in himself and he needs us less.  It's bittersweet for me.

Ah, but it's oh so wonderful for Hollis.

The Unexplainable War

How do you explain war to a 3 year old?

Sure, Hollis will make pretty much anything (even his railroad track parts) into a sword and he pretends to shoot people all the time.  But at this age he really has no concept of death, aside from the demise of his cat.

The whole discussion started because T is preparing for an exercise with his Navy reserve unit.  (The last one he will ever participate in before retiring.  WOOHOO!) While he was getting his uniforms ready, Hollis asked him what an army was and if he could see a picture of one on the computer.

Aside from being amazed at his early grasp of the power of The Google, I realized that I hadn't shown Hollis any pictures of Uncle B lately.  You see, "Uncle B" is off in the middle east having a grand old time in the insane heat, sand and dust.  B's unit has a photo page for friends and family, so I showed Hollis a few of Uncle B that I had found.

Then Hollis requested a photo of an "Army truck."  So we looked at a few shots of Humvees.  On the back of each vehicle is a large sign with two stop signs and a message in Arabic and English.  It reads "DANGER STAY BACK."  Hollis, being in the midst of the Age of Why, wanted to know why they had the signs there.  Oof. 

I tried the standard, "Well, cars and people could get hurt by that big Army truck if they get too close."  He wasn't buying it, pointing out that tractors are bigger.  So I stupidly said, "Sometimes bad people try to get too close to the trucks and blow them up."

Geez, louise, Steph.  What were you thinking?

Hollis, was understandably a bit upset and wanted to know why bad people would want to hurt Uncle B and he also wanted to know where the bad people are.  That led to a whole toddler level discussion about Uncle B trying to make sure that bad people don't hurt anyone ever again.  I couldn't bring myself to try to tell a 3 year old that they want to blow soldiers up to get us out of the middle east, where we shouldn't be in the first place.

Hollis barely understands what a country is, let alone a foreign one.  When I recently told him he lived in the United States he insisted, "No, Mommy, I live in Chesapeake."  He also barely understands the concept of God, let alone that there can be different ideas of God taken seriously enough to kill.

This isn't one of those stories where I tie everything up with a neat little parenting or policy bow at the end.  I honestly have no idea how to handle his questions.  I'm just muddling through the best I can without forcing my little man to grow up to the realities of this cruel world too soon.

If someone's going to write yet another parenting manual, I hope they deal with this, the hard stuff, instead of how to handle picking a preschool, educational toys, and the occasional time out.  Because that stuff was a cake walk compared to discussing war.

**Photo from the Golf 237 web site by photographer PFC Joseph Lyons. Uncle B is the soldier with the neon yellow strap.

Cross posted at MOMocrats.

Negotiating With a Toddler

At the age of 2, Hollis only said a couple of things: mine, no, and Daddy.  Yeah, no Mommy for that kid.  Not until he was like 2 1/2.  Traitor.

I'm not sure when things changed so dramatically, but now at the age of 3 1/2, the kid won't shut up.  He has an answer for everything.  If he asks us a question and doesn't like our answer, he will insist that we are wrong.  Even if I'm telling him something like "Mommy is a girl and Daddy is a boy."  I'll get back from Hollis something like, "No, Mommy.  Daddy isn't a boy.  I'm a boy.  Daddy is big and I'm littler than he is so Daddy is not a boy."  I thought we were supposed to be all knowing until he hit his pre-teen years.  What happened?

Honestly, I'm thinking of sending Hollis to the middle east to broker a peace agreement or maybe using him during my next mediation.  The kid is relentless.

Here's a recent conversation between Hollis and T over whether or not Hollis could have some more candy from a birthday goody bag.

Hollis: "Daddy, can I have these now?"  (Holding aloft a small package of Sweet Tarts.)
T: "No, Hollis.  We're going to have dinner when we get home."
Hollis: "But I want them."
T: "I know you do, but they'll spoil your dinner."
Hollis: "But they're good."
T: "Yes, I know they're tasty, but you need to eat dinner."
Hollis: "But they are dinner."
T: ?????  (Stunned silence) "Huh? They're candy, Hollis."
Hollis: "No, they aren't. See the package says dinner."  Pointing to the words "Sweet Tart" on the package H says, "that spells DINNNNNNNERRRRR."

Let's see.  We have: (1) a passionate love of the sound of his own voice; (2) an opinion about everything;  (3) the inability to admit an error; and (4) blatant disregard for the facts in pursuit of his own agenda. 

I think I've given birth to a future lawyer.

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I have a review up on Law(yer Mama) Review for a new photo subscription service called Kinzin.  It's wonderful for keeping the grandparents up to date!

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For now, Lawyer Mama Dabbles is going to stay on Blogger.  I need to recover from the trauma of this move before I try moving all my photos!  I'll keep posting there, but I've also set up an album on this blog with some of my favorite photos from Lawyer Mama Dabbles and my Flickr account.  I actually like it because you can view the photos much larger than you can on the blog.

Can Your Child Poop His A, B, C's?

I've recently joined the Parent Bloggers Network and for my debut review, I have:

Can Your Child Poop His A, B, C's?

Hollis can.

We're very proud.

PBN may regret letting me in.

The Times....They are A-Changing!

While Lawyermama is away I have been given the opportunity to completely lower the standards of and degrade what was once an intelligent blog post on the topic of my choice.

What is she......crazy? I mean, she reads my blog! How is she going to turn an obsessive-compulsive neurotic woman loose with NO restrictions or directions? I am already starting off on the wrong foot, as I would have SWORN my day to post was Wednesday of this week! (It's NOT.......I was supposed to post today....and well....it IS still Monday!) Thank goodness the freak in me wanted to practice getting into the site a little early! This only adds to the intense pressure!

Then again...........I must remind myself that I am the QUEEN and as such, I am well versed in handling pressure! Everyone knows the Mayhem is not a stress- free place. Why, Junior Mayhem's behavior ALONE would send the faint of heart careening into therapy, alcoholism, or racing to the nearest adoption center!

All this talk of Junior Mayhem ( my precocious three year-old son.....and by precocious, I mean absurdly willful and stubborn) got me thinking about all the things that have changed since I became a mother. The Princess was born in 1998, and on that fateful day my life was forever changed. On that day I became a mommy!

So I thought I would share the changes I have noticed in my life during the last nine years. Please bear with me as I am a fan of the list!

Changes in the Queen Since Entering the Land of the Mommy

Since becoming a mom I have noticed:

1. where once stood a smooth, relatively flat, somewhat in shape stomach is now home to a lumpy, swollen pooch that looks as though it has been marred by a wild, jungle cat! (OKAY! I never had a six pack........but I never looked as though I was smuggling a small tire under my shirt either! Which is only aggravated by the low rise pants.........I mean.... really......do I need to world to know that my stomach is my problem area!!!!)

2. where once burned the passion of a fiery sex goddess now resides an exhausted, stressed woman who NEEDS to sleep! That's right people......I am NOT afraid to admit that sleep has taken precedent over sex at times here at the Mayhem! (Please don't ever tell Mr. Mayhem I said that......if he asks, I told you he is the sexiest man alive and I simply cannot keep my hands off of him....GOT IT? Good!)

3. that I am turning into my mother! Nothing instills fear in the heart of a woman like the realization that you can NOT escape from where you came! Amazingly, I am learning to appreciate that maybe she actually knew what she was talking about....all those years ago!

4. that karma has the capacity to bite you in the ass! Remember all those, "When I have kids, I will never.............." nonsense you said when you were blissfully ignorant of the trials and tribulations of parenthood? Yeah, they disappear quickly when your child is pushing you to the limit, publicly humiliating you, or depriving you of that precious, precious sleep! At that point....it is ALL about survival people!

5. the music, television shows, and movies that I once loved are all rude, crude, and completely unacceptable! This has been a most painful lesson for me, as I am the mom who has their kids singing "Fergalicious" and "Sexyback" in the car. DON'T JUDGE ME........I just could not do the Wiggles another second! However, when after listening the a song that was deemed "clean" on the Itunes site, my daughter asked me what a d*ckhead was. That's right....it was on the song....the song I was blaring in the car with both of my kids riding! I was a little too busy shaking it to the beat driving to notice the offensive word. I just told her they must have said "jerkhead" and promptly deleted the offensive song from my Ipod.

6. that I am "Ma'am"ed by men of the age that I would have SWORN would still be trying to take advantage of my hot, sexy bod! Now I am ALL for manners.......but this one CAN sting! Especially when you are approached by a hawt young thing in a bar library and the conversation begins, "Excuse me ma'am......." OUCH! ( Not that it EVER happened to me!)

AND...last, but NOT LEAST......

7. that my life is happier, more fulfilled, more meaningful, and more filled with love than I could have ever imagined!

No one ever said being a mom is easy........but the benefits are amazing!