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Posts Tagged ‘Addams Family’

We have stayed up late the past few evenings playing Battleship.  Not the newfangled electronic version, but the classic peg and plastic ship version.  It was Hubby’s when he was a wee small boy.  The boys love when they win and hate when they lose.  It’s been several nights chock full of learning how to be a good sport.  The marathon series of games helps that lesson.  There is always another game and another winner.

Life is about winning and losing.  There is no way of getting around that.  The “cards” you are dealt may not seem fair, but truly is what you do with the cards that matter.  You can always discard them and hope for better.  You don’t need to sit there and bemoan your lot in life, change the cards and see what happens.

We are trying to help Younger Son realize that he can change his cards.  Fourth grade does not have to be remembered as the year of the bully.  It has been filled with so many wonderful events, life milestones, and new accomplishments.  And I do believe I am seeing some signs of him moving forward in this idea.  As with anything with nine year olds, it is two steps forward, three steps back, but he is getting there. A more positive outlook, kind words, kind actions, and allowing himself to be and feel happy.  We slowed things down, as much as we could, and it is making a difference in helping him remember that the bully has no power over him.

He likes quoting Sarah.  “You have no power over me.”  He is re-embracing his uniqueness and savoring marching to his own drummer.  He is remembering that he is an Addams!  He’s remembering he can sink that Battleship!

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Yep, we do sing at the dinner table and randomly throughout our days.  Yesterday, with the three guests at our dining room table, we got some pretty odd stares as we sang during dinner.  I explained to the ten-year old girl that we sing along to movies and basically whenever the mood strikes.   The look on her face caused Older Son some concern.  I told him not to sweat it.  I asked him if he enjoys singing and he said, “of course”!  So I told him it doesn’t matter what others think about the singing.

I sing at work.  Not as often lately for two reasons.  First, I’ve allowed stress to get the better of me.  Ironically, singing a few good tunes at my desk would help alleviate the stress, so I will apply that good advice.  Second, the stupid, bloody tooth with the sad root is still infecting my head.  The left sinus is about to mutiny.  Third round of antibiotics since November.  Usually takes me six years to go through that many antibiotics.  We spoke with dentist cuz on the phone this evening and we now have a solid game plan for dealing with the stupid tooth.  When I get back to work on Wednesday, I’ll look at my calendar and request the time for the first step-ripping the bloody tooth out of my mouth.  Be gone, infectious, beyond hope tooth!  Then I’ll figure out the timing on the rest of the plan.

I really can’t wait to have this tooth out of my mouth.  If had known on November 1st the fate that was ahead of me, I would have yanked it before the bloody root canal.

Soon my sinus will drain.  My ears will clear out.  I’ll have my head voice back.  I’ll sing!  And everyone at work will simply have to deal with that…or close their doors…or tell me to stop.  I can always take a walk.  And yes, there will be singing at the dinner table.

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As I always crave new school supplies in time for the arrival of the first day of school, I recently bought myself a new insulated lunch bag.  It’s the Mystery Machine with Scooby Doo and the whole gang staring out the windows.  That’s right, I will never grow up.  The other annual tradition is singing Neil Diamond’s “September Morn” as the mornings grow chilly and the leaves start to hint at the orange about to peek out.

My sons went to bed tonight with mixed emotions.  They don’t seem to want to show me that they are excited for school, perhaps they are afraid I’ll tell their friends that they actually do like learning.  Or they suffer from the same anxiety their mother felt each September when facing a new classroom, a new teacher, and a new mix of classmates.  The elementary school I went to wasn’t that big, there really weren’t any surprises waiting for me, yet each September my stomach would knot up as I wondered about the new school year.

My oldest is wondering how to stop talking too much.  I told him third grade was when I finally figured it out.  Although I have told him before that I had the same comments on my report cards, tonight he seemed to really hear me when I said the teachers always wrote, “her work is fine, but she needs to work on not talking so much.”  He seemed a little relieved to know he’s not the only kid who has done this.  He said some of the students don’t like him because of it and this upsets him.  Mama Bear wants to go and talk to those kids, but that’s not how I need to handle this situation.  I need to keep supporting my verbose son as he learns how to control the need to verbally express everything exactly when he wants to.  So my heart will be with him tomorrow as he spends too much time trying not to talk.  I hope he simply enjoys the first day of school and ignores the kids telling him that he  talks too much.

My youngest was reminded to be patient with his classmates, especially if he has never met them before.  I gently helped him recall that they will need some time to adapt to his pronunciation of certain words.  I told him not to shout in their faces if they asked him to say something a second or third time.  I encouraged him to remember that when I ask him to repeat something it’s because I really want to know what he thinks or feels and that the kids at school do too.  Mama Bear wants to be there in case anyone makes fun of the way he pronounces certain words, but again, not how to handle it.  Hug when he’s hurt by it and help him understand that this too will pass. Here’s hoping that he doesn’t hit anyone either.  He doesn’t always have a reason when he does that.  My thought is he does that when he’s just too frustrated about something.  He also whacks his own head when he’s frustrated, though I’m beginning to think the real motivation behind that action is to get a laugh-which it is hard to not laugh when he smacks himself like Moe smacking Curly.

Each son will go to school wearing an outfit that makes him feel super comfortable with his uniqueness.  The third grader will no doubt be wearing khaki shorts, a dinosaur t-shirt, and his beloved red vest.  The first grader will be wearing his black skull shirt and black shorts.  He wore his black socks today, so unless he pulls them from the hamper, (okay, who am I kidding)-unless he picks them up off the floor, he’ll have to wear white socks.  They each have backpacks packed way too heavily with all of the school supplies they have to bring in and I’m even staggering some of the items.  I truly doubt the teachers need 20 sets of dry erase markers or boxes of tissues or wipes on the first day.  They can bring them in later this week.

And so my little Addams Family-esque sons will make their way into school tomorrow morning and march down the hall to their own drummers.  They’ll be in separate lunch periods this year and each will be able to claim a bit of individual space as they scan their fingers to pay for the food (How cool is that?  They pay by scanning their fingers! So much for brown bagging it!).  And as I wipe tears from my face while taking an obscene amount of pictures, I’ll be praying that God helps them avoid peer pressure, listen to the important stuff, follow directions, and truly enjoy this ritual of childhood…the first day of school.

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