Never Mind

The sweetest thing that gives both Chad and I pause -- to really stop and look into the child's eyes and encourage him to "go ahead" and share -- is when Jameson says, "Never mind."  Every once in awhile he'll begin to say something, then stop himself, "No.  Never mind."  Like when he wanted to ask for a second dsi game, but knew it was more than he should ask for, but he REALLY wanted it, but he knew the game system and first game were already expensive, but it was so exciting to have a dsi and there were shelves of games at the store  .  .  .  he began to ask, then stopped himself, "No.  Never mind."  Or whenever he has vulnerable feelings he wants to tell, but needs a little extra courage to divulge fully,  "No.  Never mind."  If we see seriousness about him, we always "mind," and stop whatever we're doing to get at eye-level, to draw nearer, and to give him our own "no" -- "No.  It's okay.  You can tell us."  And he does.  And over him sweeps relief and comfort.

Then, there are times he doesn't hesitate at all with communication, such as when he clarified to me at Target today that he "did not ask for two rices."  It was the first time he'd been grocery shopping with me since I've returned to work, which means ONE store trip for everything we need for the week, and that means a very full cart.  His eyes got bigger and bigger.   When I asked him to pick out which flavor of precooked, microwave-ready rice he wanted, he declined.  I encouraged him to help me by letting me know what he preferred for this week, and he made a selection.  When I picked up more than one bag of what he'd chosen, however, he grew concerned.  I reassured that really, it IS okay, at which point he covered his eyes and in his comedic voice declared, "I can't watch."  I hadn't ever before had to reassure children that I pay the bills every weekend, always know how much money we have, and never spend more than we should.  He shook his head at the load I pushed toward the check-out.

Pause in thought. 

Still pausing.

Humbling, huh?

I know I've written about it before, but gosh, I've got to say it, again -- how completely amazing it is to me that Jameson and Hunter are brothers in every sense .  .  .  after just 2 months!  They've got that look-each-other-in-the-eye and get-each-other thing going on, and laughter about things I don't understand, and bickering, and playfulness, and helping one another. 

The girls have made BIG strides this week  .  .  .  with the help of some eves of being sent to bed early and a few sessions of stern clarifications from Mom and/or Dad  .  .  .  Today, we're seeing pay-off!  One child of the feminine type is approaching both interactions with sibs and requests from Mom and Dad more graciously, more agreeably -- far less in the way of protest and sass.  And the other gal exhibits more pep and smiles, an up-tick in helping herself with simple tasks (turning on the shower, cleaning up messes), fewer pouts, and less whining.  Then, between them, interaction continues to increase slowly, but steadily.  Even when very tired (and when irritability is usually high), they relaxed together, taking turns playing games on Dad's lap top.

Anna still delights in her new wardrobe and has begun to enjoy trying out some of her early spring pick-ups from our frugalista shopping excursions.  There just really isn't anything that doesn't look good on her -- lucky lady!

In case you're wondering (new topic), my first week back at the reigns of my classroom went very well; very well, indeed.  The outlet for academic thought and creative planning was welcome, as was the bantering with many wonderful students who I had missed.  The gradual transition for our four children at home was wise, as they were in their routine for me, and things went pretty smoothly.  The only real complaint is that which plagues us all -- just not enough hours in the day.  Setting my head upon my pillow at 10:00 or 11:00 at night, I realize I won't have reading time, or quiet thinking time, or getting something done from my home desk accomplished, or a personal phone call made until after 8:00 pm the next eve.  Honestly, THAT is what I like about summer -- open evenings, because there need not be a rat race for all to get to bed.  More time to begin projects and complete tasks, and to breathe and to create, and to connect with friends. 

Having time outside of my home, however, has provided just enough distance so as to have a bit more objective perspective on the on-goings inside our home and family.  And on this 2-month anniversary of the kids' release to our family, how do things look? 

Awfully normal. 

That's saying a lot.