Stopping Traffic by Robin Gorman Newman

My son has long been a Rescue Hero in the making.  That's when he's not busy being a CSI Investigator, SWAT Team member, Policeman, Fireman, EMS worker, Spy, Power Ranger, etc., etc.

He has an impressive collection of baseball caps emblazoned with a wide array of motifs fitting these various bills.  He has costumes replete with pants, vests and accessories that further feed the frenzy.  On top of that, he has Nerf guns, play handcuffs, flashlights, etc.

Add to all that a widely vivid imagination and a deep desire to do good/help people, and you never know what can result.

I witnessed it first hand at an impromptu playdate last week.  A friend he sits with on the bus popped over after school to give him something, and he wound up staying for two hours.  Thankfully, the rain had finally subsided, and they opted to play outdoors.

They rode bikes up and down the street, but when the paraphenalia and role play started to break out, things took a more complex turn.  I was watching them for some time, and then retreated to my office where I could see them out the window.  But, I learned that I can't turn my back for 5 seconds.

The phone rang, and it was my next door neighbor Jill, who we're friendly with.  She asked, "Do you know that Seth and his friend are stopping traffic?"  I was stunned...embarassed (for not knowing)...thanked her for calling and bolted out the door.

I should have taken a picture of what I saw.  Seth was on one side of the street in front of the house, and his playmate in crime was on the other side across the street, and they had strung a piece of plastic rope across the road so cars had to stop.  They also put out plastic cones that Seth likes to play with when he's creating a "construction zone."  Very authoritatively, they proclaimed they were stopping cars as they endeavored to drive down the block, to make sure they were wearing seatbelts.  They took huge pride in pointing out the Fed Ex truck they had also stopped, and how the driver thanked them for so dilligently trying to protect people.

I ordered them off the street and to gather their gear from the road and tried to explain how, while they meant well, there are people in this world who might not embrace their efforts.  What if they ran into someone like that?  Seth then showed me a hammer (real one) he had taken from our garage, and how he was prepared to use it in self defense if needed.  Part of me was glad he had thought of that, but I certainly didn't want him engaging in a fight.

He and his friend both complained how I ruined their fun.  And, I suppose you could say I did.  But, what's a mother to do?!  I need to somehow help channel his desire to do good and play security into a safer mode of expression.  What, at the moment, I don't know.

What also concerns me is that I now feel I can't let him out of my sight for even a brief period, even in front of the house.  That's all it takes for something to happen, and even in the safest of neighborhoods, bad things can result.

Next time, my son goes to play outside, perhaps I'll join his SWAT team or whatever it is at the moment.  I'm sure he'd welcome the additional manpower, and I'd have an up close 'n personal look (and control) over the situation. Stopping traffic is not a game I'd recommend.

The "H" Word by Robin Gorman Newman

Maybe I’m delusional.

Somehow I thought I’d never hear it.

To date I hadn’t.

And, even this week I didn’t….I read it.....in 8 year old scribbled penmanship.

A mom friend stopped by for short, but eventful stay, with her two kids, to give me the girl scout cookies we ordered to support her daughter.  Seth played a bit with her son Eric. They are the same age.

Next thing I knew, Eric ran anxiously to me and proclaimed that Seth had shown him how he wrote on the side of the black lacquer armoire in our living room with invisible ink (we had bought a special marker at a spy store in NYC during school break, for his birthday.) The scrawled words were……I hate my mom.

I was able to see it with a special flashlight that came with the marker. Seth said he didn’t write hate, he wrote nate (he has a good friend Nate)…but it sure didn’t look that way. My friend saw it too.

It’s bad enough he wrote on the furniture, but I was stunned and truly hurt. I honestly didn’t know how to handle it. At that moment, all I could think was that parenting is the most thankless job in the world. I was on the verge of tears and could barely bring myself to look at Seth or my friend. They exited quickly at that point.

Seth cried and said he was sorry, but an apology didn’t make me feel better.

I told him he badly hurt my feelings. That I thought we loved each other. He said he didn’t know why he did what he did.

My heart was in pain.  How could he hate me, with all that I do for him?

After he went to sleep, in an effort to understand, I surfed the web.

I looked up 8 year old behavior.

Then, I Googled “when your child says they hate you.”

What I discovered is that it’s a big topic of discussion. At least I knew I wasn’t alone.

On one site, I turned up the following anonymous comment from a mom……

I have 5 girls. My oldest is 24 and youngest is 5. They all told me at one point or another that they hated me. The last's one's dad was appalled that our little one said it, but my reaction surprised him more. He got angry at this little 3 year old, but I did what I always did, simply and calmly said, "Well, then I have done my job as a parent." Every child is going to "hate" their parents sometime, no matter what age. It doesn't mean that they really do, they are just angry about the rules and don't want to follow them. All my girls got the same response with a later talk about hate, love, anger, and how they fell if someone says it to them. It doesn't do any good to react to these words, except the one the child wants, you to be as upset as he/she is. Respond to them calmly and they will calm down and realize they don't mean it. All my girls eventually apologized to me with a big hug. Until the next time they didn't want to follow a rule.

This struck me as sage advice…from a wise fellow mom stranger…..but the source wasn’t important. It rang true.

Seth ultimately stated that he was angry because I got angry at him on some occasion. He couldn’t recall when or why.

What I was able to explain to him was that using the word hate isn’t the best way to go. You never want to say I Hate You to a person, whoever they are. What you hate is something they said or did. Perhaps how they behaved toward you or others.  Not them as a human being.

I said that it’s okay to feel hate, but better to express it. If there’s something that I or Marc do that upsets him, he should come to us. And, if that’s too hard and he wants to vent, he can write it in his journal. I used to journal growing up (now I blog).  It was an effective tool for self expression.  I assured him we won’t read it. It’s private (even though he lost the lock). Writing on furniture, even in invisible ink, isn’t an option.

I was glad to be able to turn this upsetting incident into a big learning lesson. Not just for Seth. But for myself. He immediately pushed buttons in me that were not a pretty sight. I got bent out of shape for days and went to a dark emotional place. Seth had never seen me that way before. Eventually, I realized I shouldn’t be taking it personally.

When I chose to forgive and move on from the incident, Seth was happy to see me warming up to him (we're typically fairly cuddly). He commented, “See, we’re happy with each other again.” He was acutely aware of my pain, and I wanted him to be so he wouldn’t upset me again. But, I know I have to develop a strong maternal backbone. This won’t be the first or last time he says something that both he and I may regret. Any seasoned parent will tell you so. It’s part of growing up and learning to speak out. He won’t always choose his words wisely, but I do want him to grasp that words have ramifications.

There are many angry people in this world who thrive on making others feel bad, and I have to believe they feel badly themselves, otherwise they wouldn’t have the need to lash out verbally. Misery loves company. I don’t want Seth to be one of those people. He’s a happy kid who has his moments. We all do.

Playdate Peer Pressue -- by Robin

When does peer pressure start to influence your child?

We had a playdate this past weekend, and I was somewhat stunned at the behavior of my son. His friend came over, and he's a bit younger than Seth, and a very active boy. Seth is too, but at times, it felt like this boy topped him.

The plan was to play in our newly refurbished basement. And, his parents came too. We're all good friends, so it was a good opportunity for everyone to socialize. And, we were excited to showcase our basement and to be able to share it, since the whole construction process was quite the ordeal (if you read my previous blog).

From the moment the boy arrived, things felt a bit wild in the house. They wound up running up 'n down the stairs, playing in Seth's room, the hall, in the basement...all over the house. I had baked a quiche, and was serving lunch in the basement for my friends, and had made mac 'n cheese for the boys. Certainly, we knew in all their excitement of being together, shooting Nerf guns, etc., that taking a lunch break was no where on their minds. That was okay. But, what transpired was not okay in my book.

As they rain upstairs, they deliberately pushed the sliding lock on the basement door (outside the door), and locked the three adults in the basement. We could not get out. It was very unsettling. We banged on the door and yelled and yelled, and finally they let us out. And, then 10 minutes later, they did it again, despite our scolding them.

This time I had enough, and my friend asked for a screwdriver removed the lock from the door, and I took the two boys in the kitchen, sat them down to eat their now cold lunch, and we had a discussion about behavior, safety, etc.

I told Seth there would be punishment for his behavior, and that mommy and daddy would discuss it and let him know what it is. My friends said that it wasn't Seth's fault. That their son was involved as well, but that didn't make it any better for me. Seth didn't stop it.

What arose for me with this experience is of great concern. Seth is six...soon to be seven....and at what age do kids just go along with other kids, even if they know their behavior isn't ideal? And, actually downright dangerous.

I said to my husband that Seth needs to learn a big lesson from this. But, is it possible at his young age? Is it too much to expect a six year old to grasp that he doesn't have to go along with the crowd, or even just one other child?

And, what happens as he gets older? Today, it's locking a basement door. They'll be countless other influences and influencers who come into his life as he matures. Will he be discerning enough to resist? Will he emerge a leader vs. a follower?

How can you as parent instill in your child an innate sense of what is right and wrong? Is it possible?

We can't be by his side 24-7, especially as he spends more and more time with friends, and less with mommy & daddy, so he will need to reach conclusions on his own.

I do want to set in place an understanding of values that he can apply to help guide him through life in a positive way.

I'd love to hear from you. Do you have older children, and how have you dealt with this matter? If you have younger children, is it something you think about? Please do share....I welcome stories and advice.

PS -- Be sure to sign up for our free monthly newsletter at www.MotherhoodLater.com. The February giveaway is courtesy of Lisa Leonard Designs, makes of something unique custom jewelry & more, enjoyed by celebrities and others.

Mom Meltdown

I had a total mom meltdown yesterday.

I feel like I'm 48 going on 8.

My son had a playdate here. It was supposed to be at a friend's house, but plans got changed last minute, and they wound up at our house. It was the second playdate with this particular friend, and I wanted to be a good host. This was a drop-off, and the mom was going to hang with me a bit when she came to pick her up after two hours.

I have to confess. Playdates here are often not fun for me. On one level, I love seeing kids playing happily and creatively. On another level, when it becomes a "playdate gone wild," I ultimately crack. Not during the playdate, but afterwards, when I have to do battle with my son to do clean-up. That's when "mommy maid" emerges and I get completely fed up. And, yesterday, I really lost it.

We are planning to gut our basement in the few months and redo the whole thing, complete with a play room area, etc. But, until then, our living room (we don't have a den), has taken on a life of its own with Seth's many toys piled up in nooks 'n crannies. I wouldn't mind so much, except that many have teeny tiny pieces which are in a huge disaray, so they basically look like a pile of junk, and Seth treats them that way.

On top of it, in the last week, he's lost three things. A toy spy kit. Belt. And stuffed musical dog we gave him for Valentine's Day. Amazingly we did find them all....but I'm tired of playing scavenger hunt for his things.

I've broached the subject of "patience" with members of motherhoodlater.com at get togethers we've had. I truly feel I have less patience as a 40 something mom. I told my husband when he came home from work yesterday that I "need to get out of here!!" And, I meant it...but it's easier said than done. I could have jumped on a plane that moment....quickly packed a bag.....and flown off to...I don't know where...but someplace where I could just be Robin and put aside my mommy role temporarily.

Maybe I'm having a mid life crisis? Is this what they're like? I know I'm perimenopausal. With hormones in fluctuation, that's bound to affect one's moods. I get that. So, is that what this is? Or maybe it was just a particularly challenging playdate and I'll get over it? I am entitled to have these moments.

I was speaking with a close friend on the phone today who said that she's been in a funk of late...and it's not like her to say that. She's one of the most upbeat people I know.

Could it be Mercury Retrograde perhaps? Some kind of misalignment with the stars? Hmmmm....something in the air?

Today I felt somewhat better. In my fit of fury last night, Seth & I dumped some of this toys...three garbage bags full...and that was therapeutic for me....and good for him as well. Toy clutter leads to a total lack of appreciation, and he can't focus or even decide what to play with.

This afternoon, we went to a playspace with two other mom friends and their sons. I didn't love it....the music was blaring.....it was pricey for what it was.....and the seating wasn't comfortable or so readily available. But, Seth had fun. In the end, that's what counts.

It does get to be hard sometimes as a mom compromising your own comfort, etc. for the sake of your child. I fully realize that this is what moms do...but it doesn't mean it's easy. We just rise to the occasion.

Monday, Seth will be back in school (he was off this whole week), and I'll be in his classroom. I was invited to make an appearance as an author and to share my experiences writing books. I'm looking forward to that. It reminds me of how at a very young age, I aspired to be a writer, and would actually create my own kids books, complete with illustrations. I plan to bring in some as a show 'n tell. And, then I'm hosting a little party in his classroom since his 6th birthday is Tuesday.

Time flies. Six already. Wow! And, as my friend reminded me today after I shared my exasperating playdate experience, he won't be little forever. And, the day will come before I blink my eyes, where he's going out with his friends, with no mommy-in-tow.....and I might then miss these mommy 'n me outings.

Time will tell.

Do you feel you're a patient mom? Have you had a mommy meltdown, and how did it feel?

A Life of His Own

We went to an Open House at Seth's pre-K last night, and I always find myself feeling very sentimental when I go to his school. It's like I become that much more aware of the life that Seth has outside of me and his home. His new teacher spoke highly of him, and others in the school commented on how he proudly walks into the classroom wearing his favorite firetruck polo shirt. And, how he's always smiling. And, how much he grew in height from last year....since he went to the same school.

He's becoming his own little person, and I can see a greater level of maturity in him. He's not a baby anymore (though he'll always be my little guy), and he's already made his first classmate friend. He came home with a note in his school bag recently from the teacher. It said that Seth has become friends with a boy named Nathan, and that perhaps we'd like to do a playdate after school. I was given the name/number of his mother. We spoke, and got the boys together. It was so cute to see them engage in their own dialogue, even as it relates to school...an experience that we don't share with them.

I think back to the Mommy & Me class days...and I feel like a broken record when I say this...but time truly does goes fast. While a part of me misses when Seth was little and could fit in my arms, there is a lot to be said for observing his evolution. I feel so priviledged to witness the growth of his life and to be able to make whatever contributions I can toward his development. Parenthood really is a special role, and I can see how parents look back when their children are grown and comment that their kid(s) are the best thing they ever did.