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A Kid’s Eye View

It has been an absolute blast (among the eyeball scratching and hair pulling times) raising my three kids and listening to the crazy and insane ideas that come out of their minds as they struggle to grasp what life is all about and how they will manage it as they get older. I have been trying to get some basic ideas about living and adult responsibility in their lives to help prepare them for more intensive lessons and conversations later in life. Some of the questions and answers they give me (and some random, unprovoked comments) make all the frustrations totally (well, mostly) worth it.

Body autonomy – Since sending my kids to daycare or putting them in other people’s care and since they could understand English, I’ve been trying to teach them body autonomy – that they are in control of their own bodies and they decide when and when not to be touched. Obviously, the intent was to make sure they are aware that even if an adult tries to touch them and makes them feel uncomfortable, that they can say “no” and it’s okay. We don’t even force hugs or kisses from us if they don’t want them.

The other night, I was trying to get all three kids bathed in the 30 minutes we had to bathe them, feed them, and then get them to bed after soccer practice. Luckily, we have two bathrooms, but, of course, THAT particular night, they all decided they wanted to take their own baths and not share (we would typically have the two boys share a bath to move things along). The two older ones are mostly reliable for properly washing themselves, but Calvin, at 4, still hates to get his head wet – like he does the whole, jump up, jog in place while screaming and trying to bat the water away. This night was no different and when I rushed in there to change out the boys for baths, I saw that, as expected, Calvin didn’t have a wick of moisture on his head. So, I walk over, frustrated, grab the cup, douse him with water, absorb the following tantrum, get soap, wrestle this wart hog until his whole head and face have been washed all while he is screaming and then says “MOMMY! I said ‘NO’!! Don’t you KNOW what NO MEANS?!?!?” **

**Granted, this is also the child who will find moments like when he’s getting into trouble to look me in the eyes and grab my breast, smile and say “I touched your boob”

Mortgage – The kids were asking us about money one time and about why we have to work. We told them that we have to make money to pay for living – our house, food, electricity, etc. Kids: “What do you mean, you have to pay for the house?? We already own it.” This produced good laughs from Tony and me. We explained that houses are too expensive to buy and that most people have to borrow money from a bank to buy a house and slowly pay the bank back over time. This completely blew their minds. India asked “Well, there are so many houses, why don’t you just go take one that no one owns?” Oscar came up with “So, when we turn 18 and have to move out of the house (this is something we have convinced them of), we don’t just get our first house for free??” No, you don’t, silly, they’re too expensive and you’ll likely have to rent for awhile. Oscar “But why are houses so expensive? They’re just like walls and a roof and stuff” – It’s the “and stuff”

Working for wages – We have been trying to get the kids to help out a little around the house – as much as can be expected from a 9, 7, and 4 year-old. We offer small amounts of money in exchange for doing jobs around the house like unloading the dishwasher or cutting the grass. Depending on the level of difficulty, we pay $1-5 per chore. I was busy one day doing all the normal chores that I do just to keep the household going while Oscar was begging me to buy something for him that he found on Amazon. I told him HE could buy it but he said he couldn’t afford it. I offered him the opportunity to clean the kitchen with the enticing offer of $5 to start to save up for said toy. He reluctantly started unloading the dishwasher, upset and said “It’s not FAIR!! You guys don’t have to do chores to get money!” Hahahahaha – no, we get to do chores for free, but we do have to work for our money.

Going to school – Calvin got to start pre-K this year and he was SO excited. He can’t wait to get to go to the same daycare and school as India and Oscar, but pre-K was the first step. He talked about pre-K for a minimum of 6 months before it started. He knew who his teacher was going to be, he loved her, he wanted to pack his backpack and his lunch and just ABSOLUTELY could not wait for all the magic and glory that pre-K was sure to be. The first morning we had to get them all up for school, it was 6am and I went to wake him up, he grumbled his adorable tiny person grumble, then I told him it was the first day of pre-K and he bolted upright in bed, a huge smile spread across his face and then he leapt out of bed, ready to start his day! The next week, Monday morning, we went in to wake him up, he grumbled, we reminded him that he gets to go to pre-K, bracing ourselves for his burst of excitement, only to hear his tiny muffled voice, buried in blankets and pillows “No, mommy, I’ve already been.” Me: “Oh, sweetie, this is just the beginning!”

How babies are made – Since I knew I wanted children, I was determined to make sure they know how babies are made and not dance around it too much. Obviously when they’re very small, we just said stuff like “You came from mommy’s belly” and that was acceptable. Later it progressed to “Well, how did you get me out?” – “Well, you came out of my vagina” to India and “The doctor cut you out of my belly” for Oscar (footling breach) and Calvin (after hours – no VBAC). Inevitably, the questions got more detailed as they got older. Oscar was convinced that girls came from the vagina and boys from the belly. India finally got to the question I was both looking forward to and dreading. What if I told her how sex works and she thinks she should try it at her age?? I wanted to keep my girl innocent at the same time, make sure she was fully aware of the meaning of sex from the beginning so she wouldn’t be caught by surprise or taken advantage of (cause knowledge is power)

So, armed with the tiny bit of amusement I get from telling someone that the bump next to their dog’s penis that they keep touching to show me is, in fact, his erection and watching the horror on their faces, I told India how the man gets his “seed” which I now changed to “sperm” into the uterus. Upon telling her the exact mechanics of how fertilization happens, she had a horrified, disgusted look on her face. “Ewww, mommy!” Then, a touch of realization entered her face. “Wait, is that what you and daddy had to do make us?!” “Yes” Mouth agape – “Was it GROSS??”

A little while later, all three kids were gathered and the topic came up again. This time, Oscar decided was the one to ask the hard question. “Mommy, how does the man get the ‘seed’ into the woman?” Up pops India, in a heroic effort to protect the innocence of her younger brothers, but also, more likely to keep her own ears from hearing it again, she screams “You do NOT want to know!!!”

The cost of life: Last weekend, India had her first sleepover with her friend coming to our house. We had pizza, I made brownies and some weird unicorn milk shake thing, they stayed up until 4 and had a blast. The next day, her friend wanted her to come over there and Oscar begged and begged to spend the night with his friend. I finally pulled some strings and had Oscar spending the night and also had Calvin staying with his grandma. Then, we stopped at a grocery store to get the team snacks and drinks for Oscar’s soccer game we were going to. You would think we would just have a bunch of happy kids, dancing and singing us praises in the backseat. You would be wrong. Tony went into the store to get the snacks, while I sat there and refereed whiny kids who kept saying things like “it’s not FAIR” until mommy lost her mind.

When Tony got back to the car and noticed the somber atmosphere he entered, he asked what happened. I said, “oh, I was just sick of hearing them talk about how unfair life is when they are ALL getting exactly what they wanted, so I told them about orphans and how babies are given away at birth and they don’t even have a family to love them.”

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“Have kids”, they said…

Having children has been a myriad of happiness, frustration, worry, more frustration, and total embarrassment. Sometimes, through all the stress and anxiety of raising young children, you just have to laugh, even if you are also glowing red with embarrassment. One thing I think is important to know about how we have raised our kids for these stories is to know that we do not have any soda (aka Coke for the Georgia folks or pop for the Michiganders) or juices in the house, therefore any cans, bottles, otherwise packaged beverages are either alcohol or milk (the kids mostly drink water).

The Hail Mary

One of the benefits of having multiple children is that at a certain age, you can start to delegate some of your tasks to the older siblings. Sometimes that works and sometimes your son up roots your favorite flowers when you get him to help with weeding the garden. On this particular incident, we were living in Michigan and shopping late at *the best store in the world* “Meijer”. I was by myself with all three kids – ages 6, 4, and 1.5. First, not one person stopped me to tell me how wonderful of a person I was for taking care of my kids like Tony always got when he went to the store with them. Second, I was tired, all three kids were wearing on me. I tried to keep the 4 (Oscar) and 1.5 yo (Calvin) in the buggy with me, but it was getting too full, so I had Oscar feel important by letting him push the cart and tried to convince Calvin that holding onto the side was super fun.

We were almost done shopping when Oscar decided to let go of the cart and start ripping things off the shelves and throwing them in the cart. I went to stop him and Calvin saw his chance. At 18 months, Calvin was already starting to show his true devious self. He took off down the aisle and started across the store. I had no chance to chase him down and keep the peace with Oscar. I felt completely exposed, helpless, frustrated, panicked.. all the emotions. So I delegated. I looked at India and just said “India, go get him”. Like a loyal border collie, she took off across the store, dodging other shoppers, pushing a few over, and when she caught up to Calvin, she took him down. My 6 yo little girl in a sequined tulle skirt body slammed my toddler to the ground right next to an Amish woman and then sat on him until I could get there. The woman just smiled and laughed to herself. India then took Calvin by his arm and dragged him kicking and screaming to the front of the store while we checked out. I just had to laugh and ignore the judging stares.

The Triple Option

My kids attended a Lutheran preschool because of the good reviews it had gotten. They loved that school and were great. One day, they had a dentist come to the school to teach the kids about dental hygiene. When we went to pick India up, she was just as happy and chipper as usual, but her teachers took me to the side for a second. I was used to hearing little stories about how good of an artist she was or how well-behaved and helpful she had been to the class. But this time, they looked a little more concerned. They took me away from where any of the other parents could hear and told us about India’s participation in the dentistry talk.

The dentist had been talking about things that are not good for your teeth and had asked the children to participate by going around the room to each say something. They went around the room and children said jewels like “candy” or “sweets” or any other option but what India decided to add. When it came to be her turn, the preacher asked, “so, India, name something that is bad for you teeth” India spurted out “Whiskey is bad for your teeth!!”

And so, we got a talking to.

Another time, we were at a small group meeting with our church and all the kids were running around in the basement having a great time, while the adults discussed the previous sermon and dug deep into questions and scripture to better ourselves. That’s when Oscar comes running upstairs and says “Mommy, I want whiskey!” Tony and I look bewildered and ask what he’s talking about and he just says that all the other kids have whiskey and he wants some too! Cue all the strange looks between us and the owners of the house – Oscar’s whiskey was another man’s Sprite. They haven’t let us live that one down yet.

The bad call(s)

There were many occasions where our kids lack of knowledge about soda made us look really bad. One, Tony was in line to check out at Meijer and had India with him. The woman checking out in front of them was buying two or three cases of diet coke. India turned to her father and very loudly proclaimed “That woman is buying a LOT of BEER!!”

We went to the Clare, MI Irish festival around St. Patrick’s Day and brought the kids to the craft fair to look at all the amazing things people had created. The kids were actually pretty impressed, but Oscar was most impressed with these model pirate ships someone had made out of soda cans. He dragged me up to the guy who had done it to show me his work and says “Mommy, look at all these boats made out of BEER! I bet daddy would like one!”

More recently, I have been having some stomach issues and went out and bought some sparkling water to get the carbonation without the calories or caffeine to help with the nagging nausea (no, I’m not pregnant – just dying – just kidding). I was picking Calvin up from daycare at a Church and happened to be walking out of the building with another mom and her kid. When I opened the door to put Calvin into the car, he saw my Perrier and shouted loud enough for even Jesus to hear “Mommy, are you drinking BEER?! In the CAR!?!”

Personal foul!

Raising children is a confusing task. No manual comes with them to tell you how to prepare them for the world. At one point in India’s life, I think she was 3, she was very big into Rapunzel and wanted hair like hers and just loved long long hair. She wore nothing but pink and frilly skirts. We were checking out at Target and the young woman checking us out had very short hair – like a pixie cut and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. India was staring at her for awhile and finally spurted out “Mommy, is that a boy or a girl!?!” Mortified, my eyes attempted to leave my skull as my blood rushed to my face. This was just at the beginning of public gender identification issues and I was terrified to have to tell her one way or the other. But I apologized and said, “No, India, she’s a girl.” India said “No, mommy, he’s a boy, he has short hair” I tried to explain to the girl that India was very into Rapunzel and her long hair, but the woman did not look amused or understanding. I felt awful.

Illegal use of hands

Raising boys has been fun in it’s own right. Constantly telling them to get their hands out of their pants, and to pee IN the toilet. Just this weekend, I have had to tell one of the boys things like “You can’t hold your penis and a balloon at the same time!” and at dinner “please wipe your hands off on a napkin and not your underwear!”

The worst time, though was when Oscar was 3 and we went with my brother and his girls along with Tony’s family to the St. Louis Zoo. We were meeting my brother there and were standing in the courtyard just as you walk into the gates of the zoo. People were milling about everywhere, looking at maps, deciding where they would go, reading plaques and signs. If you’ve had kids, you know just how fast they can get away from you especially when you have three and there’s only two of you. Well, we were looking for my brother and Tony’s family was trying to decide which animals to go see first when we lost Oscar. Two seconds and he was gone. We looked around wildly and then found him on the side of one of the walkways, pants around his ankles, peeing into the decorative bushes. He was 3 and just starting to master the art of not peeing in his pants and his tiny yellow arch was already going, so we just laughed and pretended not to see him until he was done, then ran over to cover him up. We were absolutely sure we would be asked to leave the zoo, but I guess no one saw us. Or perhaps, if someone did, they understood what it was like to try and raise young, feral humans.

I hope you had some laughs. I have not been terribly inspired to write lately. If you have any suggestions or topics you would like discussed, please comment.