The Night Before 1st Grade

About three weeks ago, I was starting to get teary-eyed about my big boys starting first grade and being in school ALL day, five days a week. 

BOYS!!  This picture captures mine so well---the silliness, the gross (picking his nose two ways), the screaming, the pushing...oh the craziness!

We had an awesome, but very full summer.  We spent our days checking out different parks with new friends from church.  We had playdates with old friends.  We spent countless hours at the pool.  We've done our annual trip to Pirate's Cove (slight disaster but we did it!).  We did a day trip to Michigan to play in the sand on the lakeshore. We went strawberry picking.  Jon & James did Father/Son camp through our church.  We spent a week in Pennsylvania as a family.  We made a quick trip to Minnesota for my brother's 40th birthday.  We did VBS.  We played in the backyard.  We roasted marshmallows.  The big boys mastered riding bikes.  We went to more parks.  We had three separate birthday parties.  We had BBQs and went to them at other's houses.  We lit sparklers.  We treated the boys to their first ice cream truck experience and their first cupcake truck experience.  We stayed up late.  We did all of this and when we weren't having fun, we squeezed in the normal day to day like the countless trips to Target, the weekly speech therapy, doctor appointments, laundry, cleaning, etc.

Waiting at the dr's office today to get annual exams and shots for Caleb & Aaron---if I wasn't already tired enough, this experience pushed me into exhaustion territory.

So, here on the night before 1st grade what I am feeling the most is tired.  Just plain tired.  We've had lots and lots of fun but the late nights, running around playing all day long and busy travel schedule have left me craving routine.  I'm no longer sad about the start of school.  We're ready for it!  The boys are excited.  They've been counting down the days for the last week (and so have I).  Last night, we dropped off their school supplies and said hi to their teachers. Afterwards, they played at the school park with their classmates for over an hour.

Tonight I took down the pool bags from our hallway hooks and we replaced them with the backpacks that were stored in the closet all summer.  School is here.  Its time for regular bedtimes, homework and packing lunches.  Its time for some routine and consistency.  Of course, it will be an adjustment and its always sad to have summer end, but its time.  Oh boy is it ever time!

Last year, we found a "Back to School" letter and rewrote some parts of it, you can read the exact letter here.  Tonight we pulled out that letter and ready it to James and Andrew again (of course changing it to say 1st grade rather than Kindergarten).  We read through the letter and had good conversations about how to treat other kids and standing up for what you know is right. 

Then I tucked Andrew into the top bunk (he gets the top for this school year).

And I tucked James into the bottom.

Its still hard to believe these two guys will be gone all day.  I am going to miss them.  

People ask if these guys are triplets all the time!

And I suspect that Aaron is going to miss them much more than he realizes, but the good news is that he still has Caleb.  I'm excited to watch the bond between these two "littles" grow over the next school year.

Starting 1st grade still seems a bit unreal to me because when I look at James and Andrew, I can still see this:

February 2008

Yesterday was a big day in our house--a day 6.5 years in the making.  The twins had their last private therapy sessions (at least for the foreseeable future).  They have been participating in developmental therapies since they were about 6 months old.

7 months old and right when we started the whole therapy process.

It is something that has profoundly shaped my parenting, who I am as a mom and how I have spent my time since becoming a mom almost 7 years ago.  I have lots and lots of thoughts about it.  In fact, last year I wrote a blog post over at Live Shamelessly about it, you can read those thoughts here.  At the time, the boys discontinued therapy, but it was only for a month as we ended up starting it back up when the new year started and our insurance provided for therapy sessions once again (we had previously used up the year's allotment).

This time, we are really done.  The boys will be starting first grade next week and with being in school all day, we don't have the same time to go to therapy.  Their delays are minor at this point, so we're comfortable with them only being addressed in the school setting and not doing private therapy as well. 

Easter 2007--At least the helmet made it easy for people to tell them apart!

I assumed that I would feel only utter relief to be done with private therapy.  Since they were 6 months old, I've been driving them to a clinic about 30 minutes from our home for therapy..  For several years, they attended therapies at this clinic, as well as twice a week at our local elementary school.  If you're keeping track that means that for several years, I was loading and unloading them and Aaron in/out of the car 2-3 times a week for therapy.  I would have to pack snacks for the drive there, drinks for the way home,and toys to entertain Aaron in the waiting area.  The school based therapist asked me to pack a toy or game from home for each of them to show her in an effort to improve their repoire with her, so that means I also packed a game/toy for both big boys twice a week.  Add in the ever present diaper bag and it felt like we were packing up our home multiple times a week.  When it was winter and it then required me to outfit everyone with boots, hats, mittens---I thought I might go insane.

Consequently, when I thought about the day that we'd finally be done with all of that, I could only imagine sheer relief to be done.  Done with the stress of being on time to drop them off and pick them up.  Done with the stress of packing snacks and later cleaning up the mess from those said snacks in the car.  Done with the trying to manage four small boys in a crowded waiting room while each therapist gives me a verbal update on what they worked on that day.  Done with the finding errands to run with the little boys to "waste" time while the big ones were in therapy.

James barely even noticed that he wore this helmet for 5 months (23 out of 24 hours each day).

What I didn't expect was to feel a bit sad about it.  I was sad to say goodbye to the therapists, some of whom, we've been seeing for two or three years.  Women who've invested a week of one-on-one time with each of my boys for a few years.  These women have literally shaped my boys' speech as they've worked with them on correctly articulation errors, interrupting, making eye contact, etc.  They have listened to countless stories, played many games, done art crafts and taking them to the sensory gym.  They have dried the boys' tears when they've gotten frustrated in a therapy session.  They have given the boys birthday presents.  They have accepted countless homemade presents and misspelled handwritten cards from my boys.  They have cheered me on in my parenting and when I've held firm despite one of the four boys having a tantrum in that crowded waiting room.

The boys with their speech and occupational therapists saying goodbye.

While I waited to pick the boys up from their last therapy session, I was chatting with another mom there about how it was our last day there.  It occurred to me that this waiting room where I've spent so many, many moments talking with other moms was over.  This waiting room wasn't just full of moms, but it was full of moms who bringing multiple kids there for therapy as well.  They were packing the snacks.  They were also attempting to entertain siblings while they waited.  They shared many of the same fears about their child catching up and closing the gaps on their delays.  Most of these moms, I didn't know their first names, but I recognize them when I'm out and about.  In fact, last night we were dropping off school supplies for Aaron's preschool class when I ran into a mom from the clinic.  I said hi and we talked about how she hadn't been there over the summer as they were trying a different kind of therapy for their son.

As I pulled out of that parking lot, I teared up a little.  I almost couldn't believe it, but I was actually going to miss some of this.  I reflected back at the mom I was when I first showed up here with 7 month old twins--terrified that they wouldn't talk normally or that the helmet wouldn't help reshape James' head.  The mom who agonized over all those progress reports in the early years.  Those early years were painful, brutally painful but they shaped me into the mom and woman that I am today.  This experience forced me to lean into God over the years both for trusting him with the boys' future but also for strength and patience to just make it to all those sessions. 

James, Andrew and I in August 2008 right before James stopped wearing the helmet.

As someone with tendencies to be perfectionist or rely on my own strength, this experience forced me to do the opposite--to except the work in progress that my children are (both with their speech and their behaviors) and to willingly and gratefully accept help from others.  I'm thankful that from an early age, my boys have learned that its okay to need help, to accept help and to admit that you have areas you need to work on---frankly I could still take lessons from them in this area many days.  I'm glad that they have such positive memories surrounding therapy.

For years, I've said that I had always pictured my stay-at-home mom years to be different than they turned out to be like.  One thing way is that I always anticipated that I'd participate in a daytime bible study.  For years, I haven't done it because our schedule has been filled with therapy appointments, but yesterday, when we got home from the clinic, I signed into my computer and registered for my first daytime bible study at our church that starts in September. 

This is definitely the end of an era but I'm excited to see what is next.

The ABC Song

I was cleaning through my pictures and videos on the laptop and came across this gem from two years (right after Caleb was born).

I have no idea why these children are doing this or who they belong to.

A house full of big boy beds

Once upon a time, I began having babies. We set up a nursery with cribs, a changing table and cute safari animal themed decor.  Those babies shared that room for several years and then they were grown up enough for big boy beds.  So, we gave them bunk beds. 

James and Andrew's first night in bunk beds-Fall 2010.

They were excited about it and so was I.  I wasn't the least bit sad about giving them bunk beds because they had a little brother who was still sleeping in a crib and the dream of another baby yet-to-be still in my heart.  There were lots of baby years left to enjoy. 

Soon after the twins moved into bunk beds, Aaron graduated into his own "big boy bed".  Again, I wasn't sad about it.  In fact, I loved it.  He stayed in his bed and never got out of it to goof around (did you hear that Caleb?!?)  Since the bed we already owned was a queen-sized bed, it was easy for me to lay in bed with him when I tucked him goodnight.

Aaron at naptime--January 2011

Aaron was barely two when he (along with his stuffed animals) moved into the queen bed.  For the last three years, I have snuggled Aaron in that big boy bed countless times.  Each night before bed, he asks me if I can lay with him.  Some nights I say no because I won't be home and some nights I say no because I'm exhausted and Jon tucks him in instead. 

Aaron with his blanky--Fall 2010.

But many, many nights I've laid with him in that bed.  After we pray, he always asks me to snuggle (wrap my arms around him) and we listen to a few veggie tales songs together.  Sometimes he asks me questions.  Some nights I tell him the story of how he was the size of a poppy seed when we found out he was in my tummy and that's why we called him "Poppy" before he was born. 

When I was pregnant with Caleb, I spent many, many hours laying next to Aaron in that bed--once at naptime (sometimes I fell asleep too) and once at bedtime.  When Caleb arrived, Aaron stopped napping, but we still had those bedtime snuggles.  

Since Caleb was born, Aaron has been asking to get bunk beds to share with Caleb.  I've been keeping my eyes open for some.  After talking about it for months, this past weekend we bought a set off of craigslist.  Aaron went with Jon to buy the bunk beds and was thrilled.  I figured since Caleb had already graduated to a twin bed, we might as well try putting them in the same room.

Caleb last week (8/2013) after moving out of his crib into a bed.

Aaron was so excited that I was excited too.  We got the beds set up and last night we put them both in for bed.  There was some giggling, a broken night light (thanks Caleb), and two trips into the closet (again Caleb) but eventually they both fell asleep.

Two hours later while I was getting ready for bed, I started sobbing.  Not pretty cries, loud sobs.  It was the first moment that it dawned on me that my time laying in that queen bed snuggling Aaron had come to an end.  I hadn't even tucked him in the night before because we were coming home late from a busy day and Jon just got all the boys into bed quickly. 

Aaron--2012

Now, I was crying because I had missed my last night to snuggle.  In the busyness, I had forgotten to savor my last.  It has only been a few days, but I already miss him curling up next to me and his sweet voice asking me to "lay with me for two songs".  We didn't get to play one last game of Jon and I fighting over whose "snuggly boy" Aaron really was (for the record, he's mine!) while we both laid in bed to tuck him in for the night.  In this moment, I was regretting all the nights that I had been too busy to lay for an extra song or the nights that I had let Jon tuck him in instead of me.  I wanted to go take those bunk beds down and get rid of them immediately.  I'm not ready for this next stage.  I want things to stay as they are.  However, life doesn't work that way. 

Aaron & Caleb's first night in bunk beds-August 2013.

The problem with taking the bunk beds down is that Aaron is ready for this next stage.  He is delighted by it and so is Caleb.  Of course, their delight is also accompanied by some mischief, so I'm sure we will be experiencing lots of silliness in the days to come with them sharing a room.  I know in my head that there are plenty of ways for me to continue to connect with Aaron on a regular basis, but it is still sad that this one is over.  It hurts a little.  This is how it is suppose to be though.  Aaron is suppose to grow up.  I know that so I think I was unprepared for how emotional this would be for me.  He's been watching his older brothers share bunk beds for years and is finally getting to experience this on his own.  Aaron is my sensitive boy, so I'm glad I didn't cry about this in front of him.  I'm proud of him for being excited and for going to sleep so quickly tonight even with Caleb trying to make him laugh.

There are no more cribs at our house.  This baby is waiting to go out to the curb on trash day this week.

Last night, Jon told me that I could climb up in the bunk bed and still lay with Aaron (probably in an attempt to calm me down).  This morning I said that to Aaron and he said that I couldn't come on the top bunk but that maybe when Caleb was grown up enough to go on the top bunk that he could lay on the bottom one with me.  Ha!  He clearly has no problem with this adjustment to sharing a room and sleeping on the top bunk.

While it still stings a little that this era is over, I am also excited about the bond that Aaron and Caleb will form over this next year.  They will share a room and lots of memories over this next year while they are still at home and their big brothers are in school full-time. 

My littles-August 2013

I can't imagine it now, but someday I will take these bunk beds down because my boys have outgrown them.  And I will be sad.  I will be sad that those bedtime giggles and antics are over.  I will be sad that the room that was bursting with little boy treasures, dirty laundry, and stuffed animals is empty.  I imagine when that day comes, I will hold the excitement of seeing them become independent, the anticipation of what the next stage will hold and the sadness that this stage is over together in my hands again.  

Caleb at bedtime on his 1st birthday- June 2012.

This is life.  Its busy, each stage is all encompassing and then its gone.  You can't hold on to it too tightly and you can't slow it down.  I was sad that I missed my last bedtime with Aaron in that bed, but I didn't really miss it.  Maybe I didn't savor that particular last one as much as I could have had I known.  But I was there in that queen bed a thousand times over the last three years and I savored a lot of them, more than just the last one, and I think that's what counts.

Tears, Tantrums and Talking Back

Its been a long week around here.  Lots of tears, tantrums, and bad attitudes.  And I haven't even gotten to the part about the kids' behavior.  This last week beat me down and ran me over.

Photo by Wendy Hazen Photography

Don't get me wrong.  There were some delicious moments in there.  Moments like Caleb leaning over at bedtime to give me kisses.  Or Caleb smiling and folding his hands when I asked him if Mommy should pray.

Possibly the only sweet moment during our outing that day...oh how this dimpled boy challenges me and makes me smile.

There was laughter, lots of it.  James is big into making up his own jokes right now.  Usually they don't make sense but that's often why they are so funny.  Oh that boy never ceases to amaze me with his thoughts!

Photo by Wendy Hazen Photography

Andrew's sweet thoughtfulness made it into the mix. The times where he unloaded groceries for me without me asking for any help.  The time where he arranged all of Aaron's stuffed animals on his bed in a nice way to surprise him.

Do you think Aaron has enough stuffed animals??

Aaron entertained me with his questions at bedtime about life and warmed my heart with his requests to snuggle and to pray for him.  And his patience.  He asked me several times today to make chocolate milk for him and it took me a few hours to get around to doing it (for lots of reasons).  Each request was pleasant and good-natured.  Clearly he gets that from his father.

Rock climbing for the first time

Those moments were there.  But there were also the "other" moments.  The ones that seemed like they lasted an eternity and were out of a parenting book gone wrong.  The outing to Pirate's Cove (hands down my favorite summer activity with the boys for the last 5 years) where Caleb screamed and writhed like he was possessed each time we waited in line and again when his turn on the ride was over.  I was dripping with sweat and embarrassment by the end of the outing.

Oh, the screaming!!

The moments where shoes were thrown at another brother's head, where a brother was thrown to the ground in anger by another and the talking back.  So much talking back!

Let's try to push past each other down the slide with no regard to the unsuspecting and unrelated boy in the background.

This week I found myself wallowing in the "other moments".  I felt inadequate and overwhelmed. 
There is only one me and the parenting demands seemed never-ending.  I failed in so many ways and the failures kept playing over and over in my mind.

Last night, I said no more.  I've had enough.  Tomorrow can be different.  Lamentations 3:21-23 "Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope.  Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.  They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness."

Photo by Wendy Hazen Photography

I prayed.  And I acted.  I decided we needed some extra motivation to make the right choices.  I came up with a game plan.  Today the boys & I executed the attitude change plan.  We went to the dollar store and loaded up on glass stones (we call them marbles).  We also bought each of the 3 big boys and myself a glass container (yes, I'm included in one this too).  For now, our system is that each time the boys obey without being disrespectful, they can earn a marble.  Each time there is a tantrum or disrespect, they can lose one.  I earn my "marbles" by not raising my voice and by using the right tone with them (not the impatient, exhausted, sarcastic one that has been ever present this week).

On the way home from our errands, I talked to the boys about Matthew 5:9 "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God."  In a house full of rowdy boys, we need some peacemakers.  We need boys who are willing to go second (or last), to share their toys, to do what is asked of them without complaining,  and to keep their hands to themselves. We went around and identified the ways we were and were NOT peacemakers today. 

Photo by Wendy Hazen Photography

At dinnertime we came up with a list of 3 potential "rewards" that each person could enjoy once their jar was full.  I tried to have the kids focus on experiences rather than a specific material item.  I have no idea how long it will take to fill the jars.  I don't care.  We just need to do something different than what we've been doing.  Something to break the bad habits. Something to help us all stay calm and silly and loving.

Photo by Wendy Hazen Photography

This system isn't a cure and it isn't the strongest means of change at my disposal.  I have God on my side and prayer as my channel to be poured out and filled up.  So, today I've gone to my knees again.  I've asked God to give me strength and patience again (and I'm sure this will not be the last).  The patience to continue to parent these flawed but awesome four little boys.  I'm praying for the patience to tell them no in a quiet, gentle but firm voice.  The strength to let them experience the consequences of their behaviors.   I'm praying for the energy to keep up with them.

Photo by Wendy Hazen Photography

Tonight there was sweetness in the goodnight hugs and last kisses, excitement in the playing of a simple board game, and laughter.  There were still some moments of attitude (and a lost marble or two) sprinkled in there.  The only thing missing was my anger and negativity.  And I'm pretty sure nobody really missed it.

This is my bracelet.  I've been wearing it for months.  I'm not sure that they do this yet, but this is the type of mother I want to be.