In September, I received several tearful phone calls from another mother. Her 12-year-old daughter, Amy, was being ostracized at school. Shunned. Her mother was calling me for several reasons.

Primarily, she was seeking advice and support. Amy had told her, “I’m fat and I’m ugly. Of course nobody likes me. I don’t even like me.” If my 12-year-old came to me with those words, I would be extremely concerned and also just plain sad.

A second reason Amy’s mom was calling me was to tell me that my daughter, Emily, had consistently been a good friend to Amy and often defended her in school when others picked on her. She wanted to tell me how thankful she was.

When I later discussed this with Emily, she just shrugged and said, “I like Amy.”

The third unspoken but alluded to reason was that Amy’s mom was desperate for someone to sit with Amy at lunch. Apparently, she was eating all alone. I think Amy’s mom thought I might encourage Emily to sit with her. I discussed it with Em.

Me: Imagine how lonely Amy must feel. I bet she dreads lunch period.

Emily: She can sit wherever she wants to. She doesn’t have to eat alone.

Me: She probably thinks that no one wants her to sit at their table and is afraid that if she did, someone might make fun of her. Do you ever ask her to sit with you?

Emily: Mom, when I do include Amy, she tries to always sit right next to me and only talk to me. Plus, my friends don’t like her to sit with us. And there are other kids without friends that she could sit with, but Amy thinks they’re weird.

Ahh. The pecking order. Isn’t middle school brutal?

I just finished reading 19 Minutes by Jodi Picoult. I highly recommend it unless you have anything else you need to get done because you’ll ignore all tasks and people in your home until you finish it. It’s hard to put aside. The book is about a boy who is bullied his whole life until he reaches high school and does a Columbine type shooting. It delves into the social hierarchies in school and how everyone has their spot, and kids don’t want to do anything to jeopardize any popularity they may have. I’m sure that we all remember.

So, back to Amy. After about a month of public school, her parents opted to put her in private school. Three months later, things are better but still tough. There is a lot of good information on types of bullying and what parents can do, but in cases of extreme bullying it’s often just not enough.

Merriam Webster defines a bully as “one who is habitually cruel to others.” Now that kids can bully through e-mail and texting, they can torment their victims from a distance at all hours. And bullying can start young.

My kindergartener refuses to wear Winnie the Pooh on her clothes because someone in her class teased her that it was only for babies. What? She is a baby!! She’s 5-years-old!

I recently attended a baby shower where most of the women were strangers to me. One woman standing near me blatantly looked me up and down, assessing I guess. I bet she was a bully in school. The thing is, even as an adult, I don’t have any good tools to deal with bullies, other than avoidance. I didn’t turn to that woman and say, “What is wrong with you?” Instead, I felt like sinking into the floor and then walked away.

But kids are stuck in school. They don’t control their own schedules or who they come in contact with. They often can’t just walk away.

If your child is being bullied or if you suspect your child is bullying others, talk to your child’s teacher and school counselor immediately. Both need to be addressed.

Otherwise, just keep teaching your children about the importance of being kind to everyone. Amy’s mom would tell you that it really does matter.

-Kay

Ahh. Star of the Week. One of the biggest thrills in Elementary Schools across America. A selected student is highlighted for an entire week. Every teacher and every school does it a little different. One former teacher called it King Kid or Queen Kid, which I kind of liked. I think there was a crown involved. But it all boils down to making a child feel special, building up some confidence, and getting to know classmates a little better. All worthy goals.

Some teachers grant special privileges for the week. Gum chewing, teacher’s helper, no homework, special seating, or the always coveted “line leader.” One teacher built in a little ethnic heritage for each student. I remember sending in scones so that my daughter could share her English ancestry. Some teachers allow you to bring in items such as collections, trophies, or favorite toys. All, I believe, ask for photos including extended family, pets, and baby pictures.

So, when my 4th grader and my Kindergartener got off the bus on Friday afternoon sporting huge grins and carrying big pieces of poster board, I knew. They had both been chosen as the star of the week for their respective classrooms for the following week. It was a coincidence that they were chosen at the same time but it actually worked out great. Frankly, as a parent, this whole star of the week thing can be a lot of extra work. I remember a few years ago having to complete the poster in our van as we took a long planned weekend trip to Kalahari. But, luckily this time we had very little on our calendar and it was actually easier doing both girls together rather than one now and another in a few months. Might as well print off two pictures of Grammy and Grandpa at once.

So, I thought I’d seen it all when it came to star of the week. However, my 4th grade daughter, Grace, was given a task that was new to me. She had to brainstorm five sentences that started out, “I choose…” They had to be worded in a positive manner and needed to be specific. For example, “I choose to do well in school” is not specific. Instead, Grace wrote “I choose to practice math flashcards at least 4x/week.” Not writing in a negative manner was very challenging. Grace initially wrote, “I choose to not tease my little sister” but ended up changing it to, “I choose to read a Junie B. Jones book to my sister.” Here are her other 3 sentences.

• I choose to put my clean clothes away in my dresser.
• I choose to look at and listen to my friends when they are talking.
• I choose to believe in Santa Clause. (LOVE this one)

This seemingly simple assignment inspired great conversation in our house. Just the process of being specific was enlightening. Grace initially wrote, “I choose to be a good friend” and was frustrated on how to express that more specifically. It took some thought and reflection on what she values in a friendship before she was able to come up with an appropriate statement.

It also naturally made the rest of us consider what we would choose. Choose is such a proactive, positive word. One of my statements was, “I choose to walk on my treadmill at least 4x/weekly.” Usually I would probably use the word try rather than choose. Try is kind of weak, kind of like maybe. The other thing we talked about is how if we focus on the positive, it often reduces the negative. For example, Grace is bound to tease her sister less if they’re reading together and building a good relationship.

Another of my statements was, “I choose to organize a party for my oldest friends.” So, I sent out e-mail invitations to 8 friends inviting them to meet me at a favorite restaurant. All but one made it!

With 2009 resolutions upon us, challenge yourself and family members to make lists and see what might come from 5 specific and positive statements beginning with “I choose…” Have fun!

-Kay

If you have preschoolers in your home, you probably know the “ Ten in the Bed” song. Or you might have one of the many children’s books featuring the words. Well, it reminds me of my family, except there are 5 in the bed. My 3 daughters (yes, even the 12-year-old) like nothing better than all piling up together. One of their favorite things to do is to pull out our couch into a bed in our family room and watch a movie together.

My husband says it reminds him of the original Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory movie when those old grandparents all lay in that big bed together all day long. I always thought that part was kind of weird. Now, we do the same thing. My family all squeeze onto the pull out, eating, watching the movie, and trying not to fall off the edge or to unintentionally elbow someone.

I used to feel sorry for that poor, weary mother in Willy Wonka but now I understand that she didn’t want to lie down. It’s torture. I should probably note that my husband is 6’4” and 270 pounds. Size 16 feet. Big. So, husband on one half and me and 3 kids on the other half.

When we do our couch/movie thing I’m always hopping up. “Popcorn? I’ll make it!” I can usually stretch that out for about 20 minutes, maybe check my e-mail or make a quick phone call. Then I crawl back in. Ten minutes later, “anyone need another pillow?” Then, off I go again. You get the picture.

We are a very physically affectionate family. We all hug each other a lot and all of my kids will still plop down on a lap, if it’s available. My two oldest are as tall as I am (did I mention tall gene from husband?) so I know this is probably going to end sometime soon. I savor it even when I groan internally at the size of the child on my lap. It reminds me of that book, “Love You Forever” by Robert Munsch, where the grown son sits on his mother’s lap. The words and message are beautiful but I always thought the illustrations were a bit strange. Now, I get it.

There is tons of research documenting the benefit of touch in infants and young children. In fact, many believe that there are real health benefits of physical touch for people of any age. Think about the sense of general well being one gets after a massage. Touch is powerful.

Another example of my children loving physical closeness is how they sleep in the same bed every night. Feet in each others faces, arms hanging off of the side, all curled up. The really ridiculous part is that they all have their own bedrooms. All thoughtfully decorated to reflect their styles and personalities, I might add. Strawberry Shortcake for my youngest, artsy flowers for my middle daughter, and bright neon pink and lime green for my oldest.

If we were forcing them to sleep in the same bed in the same room I can only imagine the complaints we would hear.

“Everyone I know has their own bed!”

“It’s not fair how she always gets to sleep next to the wall!”

We’ve encouraged sleeping in their own rooms. We’ve told them how much more comfortably they’d sleep, but with no success. Truthfully, we find it very sweet. These 3 girls who at times during the day want to claw each other’s eyes out, snuggle all night long. Before falling asleep, I can often hear them whispering and giggling. I couldn’t orchestrate better bonding moments if I tried.

-Kay

I’m not safe in my own home. In every corner and on every surface in my kitchen lurk evil Christmas cookies. We have cut outs. We have snicker doodles. We have magic squares. We even have some good old chocolate chip cookies just for good measure, I guess. They call to me at all hours of the day and night in their taunting, mocking whispers. Especially when my husband is at work, the kids are at school, and I’m all alone.

The rest of my family seems to be able to devour seemingly endless samples and, here’s the really weird part, the cookie platters remain full. “Be gone, cookies!” I cry out in vain.

When I do sneak into the kitchen in one of my many, many weak moments I can hear buttons popping and feel zippers tightening as I allow myself to eat one solitary cookie. Okay, that’s a lie. Who can eat only one Christmas cookie? This is my M.O. I break off a tiny piece. Then another. Then, oh what the heck, I eat the last remaining crumble. Then, oh look, this one is falling apart. And on it goes. It’s not pretty.

Then I skip lunch because strangely I’m not that hungry and besides maybe I can compensate for all of those extra calories by skipping a meal. But then around 2 p.m. (when I’m all alone), I’m starving. Maybe just a tiny piece of cookie, I think. You can see how dangerous my house is right now.

In past years I’ve waited until the week before Christmas to do my baking because I’m very aware (there’s no denial here) of my Christmas cookie addiction. But, this year my church asked me to make cookies for some event and since it’s December, it made sense to make Christmas cookies. So, one batch. No biggie. I sent most of them and the rest were gone quickly. Phew.

But here’s the part I didn’t count on. For the first time, this Christmas my 12-year-old is able to bake without my assistance. So, when I baked for church I inadvertently started something. With the help of her 10-year-old sister, they’ve been baking their hearts out. I love to see them working together, enjoying the holiday season and gaining confidence in the kitchen, but I had to stop the madness.

I told the kids no more cookie baking until they’re on vacation. Then they can make up plates of cookies for our neighbors and their friends, if they’d like. They can even print out Christmas cards to deliver with the cookies. It’s a nice lesson on generosity and will remove most of the cookies from my house.

So, if you’re like me and have a serious love of all that is sweet, here are a few websites that might help. A Healthy Me has healthy ingredient substitutions you can try in your own family favorites. Suite 101 has actual cookie recipes that are light and healthy (or at least healthier than traditional cookies). We’ll still make some of our favorites, but I think I’ll sneak in a few new ones to try out. Not only for the sake of my own health, but also for that of my family.

Happy Baking!

-Kay

Each year, I choose a day before Christmas to spend an entire day shopping. I call in favors for babysitting, my husband works a short day, and I’m a free woman. Note: that’s the only thing free about this day. With a credit card clutched tightly in my hand, I back my minivan out of my driveway and I’m off!

I begin at my favorite store. It’s an exclusive, upscale little establishment. You may have heard of it. It’s called Target.

One of the pre-shopping things I do is to organize my coupons. In my home filing cabinet, I have a folder labeled “Coupons.” I shove any in there that I come across or that arrive in the mail. Also, I go online beforehand and Google the store’s name and “printable coupon” and I’ll often find more that way.

For instance, I had a $10 off a $100 purchase at Target. I had a feeling that spending $100 was not going to be a problem. When I arrived, I headed right to electronics because that seems to be what it’s all about for my older kids. I picked up some games and new controllers. A memory card and a digital camera. Then I headed over to toys and picked up a few traditional games. Except they’re not quite so traditional anymore. Electronic Life, Pictionary Man, and Electronic Guess Who. Better throw some batteries into that cart, too.

On to clothes. I picked up underwear and socks for all, and new jammies for Christmas Eve. That’s basically what I bought. Honest. There were a few other small items thrown in (Play Doh, maze books, gum) but that’s it. My total was $678.52. Ouch. It’s the darn video games. I curse those people at Nintendo!

Side note here. My daughter’s DS Lite got rained on and wouldn’t work after that. Go figure. Well, I called Nintendo and they sent me a refurbished one for $75 (better than $129 for new). The Nintendo people were very efficient and polite. So, I remove my curse.

Wounded by the amount I’d just spent, I moved on. I stopped at the Aurora Farms Outlet Mall and by showing my AAA card at the office, I received a coupon book. Ten dollars off of any $50 purchase at Aeropostale caught my eye. I found some great sales ($1.99 for sweatshirts!) and just barely reached that $50-mark. That’s better.

I stopped at Nine West and used another coupon in the book to buy a pair of boots ( UGG knockoffs) before stopping in at Claires. I had a $10 off any $20 purchase so picked up earrings and stocking stuffers. One more stop at Limited Too (is it obvious yet that I just have daughters?) where I scoped the clearance rack and picked up a Webkinz for the top of each girl’s stocking.

So, total for outlet was under $200. I grabbed a quick lunch to go through my receipts (I was still having trouble with that Target one) and regroup. I checked my list to see what my afternoon plan of attack should be.

I headed to Barnes and Noble. I chose a 1,000 piece puzzle for our family to work on the week before Christmas and picked up a pile of books for each child. I then attempted to choose a CD for each of my older girls and lastly picked out some DVDs for the entire family. My husband and I have limited the TV choices for our preteens down to next to nothing (the shows are all so obnoxious) so we decided to get a few “oldies” to give them more choices. After much consideration, I selected The Best of the Cosby Show and a season of The Brady Bunch. I threw in Care Bear’s Big Wish for my 5-year-old and forced myself to walk out the door. Price tag for bookstore: $180 (after 10% off coupon).

I made a few more stops for small items and then went home. I’m finding, as my kids get older I spend more money but have less gifts under my tree. They get plenty but not nearly as much as many of their friends. It’s difficult to find the right balance.

We try to keep the focus of Christmas on the religious meaning and not get sucked into the craziness. But it’s hard. When I’m Christmas shopping I enter some weird twilight zone where I justify buying things that I hadn’t planned on purchasing. So, I always end up returning a few items after my shopping spree. When I’m back home, I’m again able to refocus on what Christmas is really all about.

But I do love my annual shopping day!

-Kay

Over the years, I have experimented with letting go of the various “shoulds” and “have-tos” of Christmas.

There was year I tried to cut back on baking and making, when I decided not to spend hours in the kitchen making 300 of my signature Southern pecan pralines , half of which never manage to harden into candy but end up sliding off the counter onto the floor.

Only thing, when the mailman came around, I felt bad that I had nothing to give besides a weak, “Can I help you with that 35-pound package?”

There was the Christmas when I decided to forego the Christmas photo for the annual Christmas card. This decision came, mind you, the year after the Christmas tree fell on the baby while the photo was in progress.

Only thing, no Christmas cards means I slip out of the card-exchange loop: Don’t send any Christmas cards. Don’t get any Christmas cards the following year.

There were the various and many de-stressing shopping experiments, to include the Christmas I bought everything by Sept. 1; the Christmas when I bought nothing by Dec. 1; and the Christmas when I shopped online for almost everything.

The problem with early buying, of course, is that kids change their minds. The problem with late buying includes not being able to find a single, solitary winter hat with those little tassels hanging down, not to mention standing in line with really mean people. The problem with online buying is that shipping and handling costs as much as the item, sometimes more. Some day, I’d like to find out how much it really costs to send a two-ounce CD in the mail.

My conclusion after all these experiments: Managing Christmas is a job, added to whatever other jobs you already have. No matter what you do, no matter how hard you try, if you are the reigning Christmas Manager in your house, and most women are, there will be stress at Christmas.

There are, however, things you can do to ease the intermittent agony that creeps Grinch-like into the joy:

1. Strive to be reasoned and measured. This goes for everything from the amount of presents you buy to the number of pralines that make it to your mouth while you are making them. It makes infinitely more sense to say you will only eat a certain number of pralines, say a pound daily, and stop at that.

2. Don’t rub in your status as manager of all things Christmas in your house. “Just how many people is it that you shop for?” I one year asked the husband of a friend who was sweating as he peered into the jewelry counter where I was also shopping. “My wife,” he said. “Hm,” I said. “I shop for several cousins, aunts and uncles, my three children, my husband, his family, several secretaries and teachers, and I make and package 12 boxes of pralines to send to out-of-towners,” I said. He dropped his head and left the store.

3. Expect to be dissed and ignored by store clerks, especially as the clerks become younger and apparently, wiser. At one store, where a cashier tried to sell me one of those irritating warranties for the video product, I tried to engage him in a conversation about the days when you didn’t have to buy a warranty, when warranties actually came with the purchase. He just looked at me. “Merry Christmas, lady,” he said.

4. Expect a mess. “I have given up on trying to scrape the glitter/glue combo and a multitude of paint globs off of my table and sweep beads up off of the floor, at least until it’s all done,” says SnappyMom.

5. Look for concrete ways to keep the enchantment alive. Drink Bailey’s. Walk up to somebody who looks like they could use it, and put a $5 bill in their hand. If you know your husband will not remember to buy stocking stuffers for you, buy Oil of Olay and calligraphy markers and stuff your own.

6. Never speak your theory about Santa, that his sleigh makes perfect landings on snowy roofs because the runners have special Velcro on the bottom. As long as nobody says it out loud, everyone will still believe it’s magic.

7. Finally: Do not wear clogs while making pralines. You will get sugar in your shoes.

- Debra-Lynn

We have a dog. We promised my kids one for years before we actually got one. There was always a reason to wait. New baby, upcoming move, no room, etc. Finally, last Christmas, we felt that the time was right. We wrapped up a box of doggie bones to put under the Christmas tree and started looking.

The kids looked online at the available dogs in the area. It’s fun because it not only shows you a picture but it gives you information about the dog, as well. Above all, we wanted a friendly dog that would be good with children of all ages. Our house seems to have a revolving door with kids coming and going and I didn’t want to have to worry about a grumpy pooch.

Another requirement I had was I wanted the dog to be fairly young, but not a puppy. I was hoping to avoid accidents everywhere and chewed up furniture. I preferred a midsized dog and a nonbarker would be nice. I didn’t care about the sex or breed. In fact, I’m kind of partial to mutts.

After some online research, we decided to make some trips to animal adoption centers. At the first one, Rescue Village, we made a scene when we left with one sobbing kid and two angry ones because we left without the dog they wanted. Believe me, it was tempting to give in just to pacify everyone.

Even my husband was leaning towards their side. “Maybe we should consider the puppy.”

But I was firm. Basically, because I knew that if things didn’t go well with the new dog, I would be the one dealing with the problems. So, finally in April we hit the jackpot at PALS where we met Sasha. She is a mutt with some German Shepard blood who was described to us by the very helpful worker as a smart, lovable, quiet dog that they estimated to be about 10 months old. It was love at first sight.

I believe that animals that are adopted from shelters are grateful. At some level they realize that you rescued them. Sasha adores her kids to a pathetically sweet level. She sits by the front door when she starts to hear school buses drive by our house at about 3:00. When the kids are outside playing, she runs from window to window in order to keep an eye on them. She sleeps at the bottom of the steps (she’s not allowed upstairs) all night long, just waiting for her people to wake up.

This past summer, we had a neighbor take care of Sasha while we were away for three days. Sasha didn’t eat anything for the entire weekend. How sad is that?

So, we are thrilled with Sasha. We’ve had pets before. Cats before we discovered my daughter had an allergy. We had a bunny for a while which was a pretty good pet (she was litter trained!) but not too interactive. We still have fish. We had a skink for about 4 years until it died. Again, a nice enough pet but not much you can do with it. But, a dog is hands down the best so far.

We are not one of those families who think a dog is an actual person in our family. I don’t let her upstairs or on the couch. I wouldn’t spend thousands of dollars on her health if she had some terrible disease. I know of a dog that has braces. We could hardly pay for the braces my child wore last year so the chances of Sasha having something like that are nil. Sometimes I forget to feed her until she starts nudging me. Don’t feel too sorry for her. The vet tells me that she is a 50-pound dog that weighs 70 pounds. I know how she feels.

But, even though she isn’t even close to being human in my eyes, I do love her and my kids are crazy about her. My youngest lies on the floor with her face inches away. Communing, I guess. My kids all love walking her on her leash. Sasha came potty trained, doesn’t chew on my stuff (although she instantly destroys all of her toys), hardly ever barks, quickly learned our yard boundaries, and is the gentlest soul I know.

So, if you have an inclination to add a pet to your family, I encourage you to do so. There are lots of clear benefits of pet ownership for children. I’d also advise you to carefully consider the type of pet that would be a good fit with your family. Finally, wonderful pets are available at minimal cost at a shelter near you.

-Kay

This year we picked out our Christmas tree on a bitterly cold winter morning. The van thermostat read 22 degrees when we pulled into the “cut your own Christmas tree farm” in the middle of nowhere (actually, Mantua, OH). By the time we had scouted the field of potential picks and evaluated the merits of each, we were all in severe pain. Our noses and toes felt like they were going to freeze off. It was perfect…just as it should be.

We lived in Southern California for many years and while there I just couldn’t get used to picking out our Christmas tree. We used to go to this place right next to a busy road. Imagine cars going “whoosh, whoosh, whoosh” as they drove by at 70 miles per hour. The Christmas tree place tried to cover up the traffic noise with piped in holiday music, but that really just added to the cheesiness. We’d often be wearing shorts and certainly never anything warmer than a sweatshirt. A Mexican gentleman who didn’t speak English sold the precut trees. As we walked on the scorched, dry ground we’d see little lizards darting around. The kids would try to catch one while my husband and I picked a tree and tried to figure out how much money Cincuenta is in Spanish. Eventually, we’d hand over mucho, mucho, dinero just to be done with the whole anti-Bing Crosby, winter wonderland, sugar plum experience.

If you grew up in the Southwest, this probably feels perfectly normal and festive but for my husband and I who were transplanted from the NE, it felt like a page out of Dante’s Inferno. Slight exaggeration, but you have to understand that I love Christmas. The traditional kind.

When we moved to Ohio 4 years ago, my husband and I were thrilled to be able to experience Christmas as we had growing up. We really wanted our children to enjoy some of the same joys that we did as children. Building snowmen, sledding, tromping through a field hunting for the perfect tree, and losing feeling in our extremities.

At the Christmas tree farm we found a tree we could all agree upon and snapped a picture of the kids standing in front of it to share on Photoworks. The kids were doing their best to look happy but I’d have to say the smiles turned out more like grimaces. Then, my husband lay down in the snow to cut it down. It was one of those moments when I’m glad I’m the female. We all helped drag it back to our van where he tossed it on top and secured it while we girls attempted to regain the use of our frozen fingers inside of the toasty van. Again, glad I’m female.

When we arrived home, the kids anxiously waited (translate into moaned and groaned) while their father put up our tree and strung the lights. Then, the kids and I draped the beaded garland and placed the ornaments on the tree. I love my ornaments. If my house caught on fire, my ornaments would be near the top of my list of things to save. Many are old. My mother has always bought each of her children an ornament each year so some of mine date back to the 1960’s. As grandchildren have been born, she has added them to the list of ornament recipients each year, so my children look for theirs when decorating. In their minds, those dating back to the 1990’s are ancient. My favorite ornaments would have to be the ones made for “Mommy” by my children. My kids mock their own young attempts at art, but I notice they look for them each year as we decorate.

I loved the whole Christmas tree experience this year, even the extreme cold. I think it’s unifying for our family. There’s a reason those hardy people who live in frigid climates are so tight knit. It’s a bonding experience to get frostbite together. Plus, when we got home we warmed up with hot chocolate and cookies. That alone made it all worth it.

When our tree was all decorated, we turned out all of the lights except for those on the tree and were awed by the serene, beauty of our tree. There’s really nothing else like it. As I gazed at my children in the glow of the lights, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace and thankfulness. No wonder I love Christmas so much. What other time during the year has the same sense of magic and wonder?

Peace be with you.

-Kay

My youngest daughter, Olivia, is in half-day Kindergarten this year. Kindergarten is such a huge transition year for children. When she began in late August, her writing was limited. Every single paper she colored or drew on, she’d flip it over and write her name on the back. Then, she’d write the only other two words she knew how to spell underneath. Mom and Dad.

This touched my heart. We are pretty much her whole world. But I’ve noticed a slight change lately as her writing skills and experiences grow. Sometimes Olivia adds her sisters’ names underneath her own. Or our dog’s. Last week, she came home with the name Sarah next to hers. No mention of Mom or Dad.

She’s also been adding phrases, often undecipherable even to her. Recently, she wrote, “I see a chree” (tree). A whole sentence. Even a capital at the beginning and a period at the end.

I am thrilled that she is moving toward independence and knowledge. However, she is simultaneously moving away from innocence and that brief period where her family is her universe. Away from me. And that doesn’t thrill me.

For some reason, this is a difficult stage for me this time around. I didn’t feel quite this way when my two older daughters were going through this transition but of course, I still had a baby at home. But, Olivia is my baby and there is no one at home when she’s gone. She’s been my buddy. My pal. Shopping with me, giggling with me, and always anxious to spend time together even when her sisters are busy with activities and friends.

Next year she’ll be in school all day long. Who will I eat lunch with?

I have so enjoyed being a stay at home mom these past 12 years. And I’ve been grateful. When my oldest was born, I took a 1-year leave of absence from my teaching position. We needed to make certain that we could maintain our family financially without my income. Well, we did. Just barely. So, after that first year, I asked for one more. After that 2nd year, I quit. Since then, we have limped along. Two steps forward, one step back. But, we keep moving in the right direction. We’ve never been rich financially but we are so rich in family.

But, the times they are a changin’. So, I’m trying to proactively plan this next chapter in my life rather than just tumbling into it. Next year, I have some choices since I won’t have any children at home during the day. I’m trying to keep a positive attitude and brainstorm options that appeal to me. Do I want to teach again? Or perhaps do more writing? There are several issues I care strongly about so maybe I could somehow become involved in one of those. Or, I love gardening so I wonder if I’d enjoy working in a greenhouse.

I made a list of things I miss about working. Having nice clothes, adult conversations, applying my education, and of course the income. Even as I focus on the positives, I feel melancholy. I know I still have years of enjoying my children and watching them evolve into women. But, in my heart, I believe that I’ll always remember the years that I was a stay at home mom as the most gratifying and joyful. The best ones. Maybe not always the easiest, but certainly my favorite. It’s always sad when a really great party ends.

-Kay

If I were a superhero, I would wear a black cape with secret pockets holding pens, pencils, and various notepads. I could whip off a list in 10 seconds flat. I would be…(drum roll here)…Listmaker. Picture a giant L plastered onto my grungy sweatshirt.

Lists are especially important at this time of year. I have lists upon lists of Christmas gifts. Obviously, for my kids and husband, but also for teachers, scout leaders, friends, and all of the relatives. We have cut back over the years as our family has grown, but my list is still long and complicated.

I also have a list of things to do before we leave on the 26th for a week of Christmas fun at Grandma’s house. Stop the mail, make arrangements for our dog and pay bills, to name a few. Going out of town creates the need for a giant list of what gifts need to be packed as well as the normal mountain of clothes and stuff that a family of 5 seems to need.

Then, there’s the Christmas card list. Every year I think to myself that this is the year I’m not going to send cards. I love almost every aspect of Christmas (once I have my lists made) but for some reason I find the whole process of sending out Christmas cards extremely tedious. But, I love receiving them. It’s amazing how a year changes the children in the photos and the family updates help me to catch up with friends and family. It’s just the sending that I have issues with. It’s probably because I usually end up working on cards at about 10 p.m. after I’m tired from all of the other Christmas preparations. So, I’m contemplating sending out Christmas ecards this year.

Finally, there is the food list. We need items that are above and beyond our normal grocery list: baking supplies and also ingredients for those special meals around Christmas. Which brings us to yet another list. Menus for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Heaven forbid I forget the homemade pierogies that my husband’s family has made every Christmas Eve since the beginning of time.

Sometimes I feel like my head will explode. That is until I write down a list. Then I can relax. It’s all there in black and white. Phew. I can check things off as I go.

My husband tells me that I over think the whole thing, but I believe he would change his tune if I forgot to buy his mother a gift or to make our New Year’s Eve reservations or to perhaps pay our mortgage. Oops. Or what if I neglected to give our house key to our neighbor so that she could take care of our dog?

This happened to our neighbor this past summer. They were literally pulling out of their driveway to go to Myrtle Beach for a week when they realized that they hadn’t made plans for their dog. In the excitement and chaos of packing, it had slipped their minds. My neighbor frantically knocked on my door as her family sat in their loaded van. She tossed the key to me amongst apologies and thanks.

She’s probably didn’t have a list. She needed (1 more drum roll, please) Listmaker!!

-Kay