They're Just Jealous

Ahhh yes...getting your nails done. Most girls I know enjoy this pleasure. Who knew a six year old boy could too!

Yes, it's true. Noah got his nails done. Seriously.

On Saturday I was able to get in to get my nails done on a last minute cancellation, but the catch was it was after a 5 year old birthday party. So I told Noah he was going to have to go with me to the salon, but that he could sit in the chair next to me and quietly play his Nintendo DS.

Well all hopped up on sugar from birthday treats and cake, this wasn't going to cut it! Nope! One of the nail techs had some open time and started talking with Noah about nails and how it is done. Next thing I know he is telling her he wants his nails done. "Let's do it!" he says.

So as I am sitting in one chair, he is sitting in another getting his nails painted "camoflauge". I can't even get the kid to sit still at home so we can trim his nails, but he was willing to sit for 15 minutes and get his nails painted with multiple colors so it looks like camoflauge!

He was so proud of his nails and thought it was a tremendously cool thing to get done. Later that night we went out for dinner. And it was interesting to see the reactions of people who saw that he had his nails painted. Our server couldn't have been kinder...she echoed his excitement when he showed her his nails and even commented on his zest for life! Then sadly, I watched the couple sitting across the aisle from us and watched as they pointed at his hands, shook their heads and looked disgusted. Really people? Now, granted I'm making some assumptions that they were discussing Noah. But I watched her point to her nails and then point at Noah while shaking her head and scowling. Interesting that painted nails on a boy can draw such an adverse reaction. What's the big deal? So it's not "status quo"...let him express himself! I know it may be a bit out of our comfort zone, but isn't that the point? That is when we learn the most about ourselves and others!

Later Saturday Noah started talking about how excited he was to show Mrs. Schultz (his first grade teacher) his nails on Monday at school. I thought it was amazing he wanted to wear his painted nails to school, but then started worrying about kids teasing him. So I decided I should just warn him of this possibility. I told him it was possible and that I just wanted him to be prepared.

His response, "I don't care Mommy."

"Right on brother," I said, "That is the best attitude to have".

So today he marches on into school. We go through the usual routine of hanging up the jacket and back pack and as I smile I say, "Let me see those nails Noah!"

He proudly pulls out his hands to show me...and then you could see the realization on his face as kids walked by. He slowly pulled his hands up into his sleeve as if he was trying to decide if this was a good idea after all, gives me a big hug, runs off and calls over his shoulder, "I love you Mommy!"

After seeing that moment of doubt on his face, I was a bit worried how the day might go.

Afternoon comes and I pick him up from school. I peppered him with the usual questions, "How was your day? What was the best part of it? Music or Gym today?"

Then the big question..."What did everyone think of your nails?"

"Good," he says, "But did you know that if they tease you, they're just jealous?"

"Did someone tease you Noah?"

"Yeah, Josh did, he said I was like a girl, but he's just jealous".

What an amazing moment. So easily he just ran with the flow and really didn't worry what other people thought of him! If only we could all be less concerned about what others think and just believe in ourselves, follow our heart and be that comfortable in our own skin! Wouldn't that be amazing?

Weapons & Booze

Weapons and Booze you ask? Seriously?

Seriously.

What could I possibly learn from my child that has to do with weapons and booze??? And how do the words "weapons" and "booze" have any place in the same sentence as "child"?

What I DID learn is this. First, be careful about the words you use in front of your child. We all know the obvious four letter words to avoid, but it may even be best not to joke around with other words...i.e. "booze"! You never know how they may manifest themselves at a later date.

Second, be prepared for anything and everything to come out of your child's mouth...at anytime, in front of anyone. And be prepared for any and all assumptions that could come from that.

Third, accept the first two, roll with it and don't sweat it. I know I'm a good mom...most of the time. I can't help what assumptions other people make. But I can help my son with a loving and fun childhood. And in the end, it is his opinion about my parenting that matters most.

So how do weapons and booze fit in here? Read on!

Let's start with Weapons.

Last week we brought Noah to his first Psychologist appointment. His pediatrician suggested this to help work through the challenges that come with a child that has ADHD like poor self image and mitigating through the many emotions that follow. We begin the session with the doctor explaining what the next hour will look like, asking what brought us here and getting a brief medical history of Noah. Then he begins to ask Noah questions. One of the first questions he asks Noah is, "What kinds of things do you like to do at home Noah?"

"Umm...I just kinda like to walk around. Play with my Dog," Noah says. I found some humor in this because the kid doesn't walk anywhere. He generally runs, skips or jumps anywhere he goes!

Next the doctor asks, "Well when you aren't doing that Noah, what do you like to play with?"

My sweet little son responds, "Oh...well, my pump rocket, my weapons...."

Insert sounds effects of brakes squealing here! WHAT???????? Yes, weapons. That is what he comes up with? Not the million little Lego pieces we routinely step on or the several hundred Hot Wheels that find their way in every room in the house? No. He decides to tell the mind doctor that he likes to play with weapons! I so badly wanted to explain that the so called weapons were Nerf dart guns and plastic swords, but I decided that as the professional he would ask for clarifications if he was truly concerned.

Then came the Booze.

Fast forward to later that same week and Noah and I are heading home after work and school.

"Mommy, let's have a party tonight when we get home!"

"Okay Noah, but you have to do your homework first. What kind of party do you want to have?"

"I don't know, but we could draw pictures...you could drink some booze..."

Yeah...I could drink booze. I quickly explained to Noah that "booze" probably isn't the best way to say it. Perhaps he should consider saying that I could have a glass of wine instead. Being the inquisitive child he is he needed to know why he shouldn't say "booze". How do you explain to a six year old the assumptions people may make about his mother if he tells them she is gonna drink booze at a party...with him!? I tried to the best of my ability to help him understand. Not sure if he did, but I tried. What he did understand though was another reason not to use the word "booze".

"Mommy, I also shouldn't say 'booze' because it sounds like another 'B' word that you don't want me to say."

"What 'B' word is that Noah?"

"Boobs."

Tell It How It Is

Funny, isn't it? The way children can just tell it how it is? No filter, no buffer, no worries.

I think this is one of those things you have to love and admire about children. They don't worry, they just tell it how it is. And when their feelings are strongest, you can be sure you'll know.

The end of last summer I signed Noah up for his first year of soccer. His team was called The Gators. I was certain he'd love it. After all, it is a whole lotta running on a whole lotta field. And this kid doesn't walk anywhere...if he is going anywhere he is running. Running from the kitchen to the living room, running from the bathroom to his bedroom. Running, running, running.

He was excited; we got to go pick out shin pads and shoes, etc. He was like "a professional" as he said.

Then came the first day of practice.

He'd rather climb the net than run the field. He'd rather throw the soccer ball over the net than kick it in.

I could see we were going to have a bit of a challenge here, but it was just the first day after all. He'd certainly love the games, right?

Wrong.

A couple of games into the season and he tells me he doesn' t like soccer. I asked him why.

"Mommy", he says, "there's just too much running. All you do is run all over the field. I get too tired".

So much for my hypothesis.

As the season wore on it only got worse. Every practice and game was preceeded with crying and pleading to not go, but I told him he'd committed to his team and he had to finish the season out. If he chose not to play again after this season, that was fine. But he had to finish this one.

One day he's at practice and I'm sitting on the sideline and I hear him say to his coach, "I don't really like soccer, but my Mom says I have to play". Thankfully his coach chuckled, while I just kept my head in my magazine and hid my embarrassment. Well, that was just the beginning.

Fast forward a couple weeks later at a game and Noah is running on the field, during the game shouting, "I HAAAAAAATE SOCCER". Over and over while shaking his head back and forth. I was embarrassed initially. Especially because the majority of the kids on the team were really good and really focused on the soccer. Then I realize that was just Noah, being his authentic self. He was like the halftime entertainment!

At one point during the season he discovered the position of Goalie. He took to this position right away because he could just stand there. He didn't have to run. And he could even turn his back to the game and climb the inside of the net. In it to win it? Not so much. He routinely faced the back of the net, climbing, looking, daydreaming. At one point during one game, another parent yells, "Turn around Gator Goalie, turn around!!!"

He did. And a few minutes later the opposing team comes down the field with the ball. The kid hauls off a shot and sends the ball flying towards the net. For once, Noah crouches down and focuses on blocking the ball. And he did. With his face.

Flat to the ground he went like a pancake. Referee blows the whistle. He lays there for about 30 seconds. As the coach escorts him off the field, I hear Noah say, "I don't think I can go back in the rest of the game because of my injury". He was fine. The stinker just realized it was a way to keep him from having to play anymore that evening.

You have to admire the kid though...he wasn't afraid to share his thoughts on how he felt about soccer. In fact, he was willing to share it with the world...or at least everyone on the field or the sidelines.

I wish it was that easy for me to speak my mind sometimes. Without doubt or shame. Guilt or fear.

Clearly he could learn a little bit about tact though...I mean is it necessary to scream these things? Sheesh!

My hope for Noah is that he will continue to share his thoughts and opinions...just with a little more tact.

And my hope for me is that I can learn from him to be more fearless in not only knowing and admitting how I feel about some things, but be willing to speak of them.

Love, Pain and the Possibility

It wasn't until Noah was born that I began to understand the depth of the Love, the Pain and the Possibility. As I write this I am overwhelmed with all three.

Sure, I'd felt all three of these before, but never to the depths of my very being. Through the course of the last six years I've explored places I'd never been emotionally. The sheer joy that comes from your child as they giggle, the debilitating sadness that comes when they are hurt, and the amazing blessing that comes when you see their future without boundaries.

Noah is my Greatest Love, my Greatest Pain and my Greatest Possibility...we share this, him and I.

We have shared this Love reading books, sledding down a hill, going to the movies, building a Lego city, driving Hot Wheels, baking cookies, carving pumpkins, decorating Christmas trees, going to his first day of school, saying his prayers.

We have shared this Pain being teased at school, calling himself stupid, falling off his bike, watching my Grandmother pass away, asking why his Daddy only wants to see him twice a year.

And then we most certainly share the Possibility when we talk about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., space, the planets and beyond, his dream to be an artist, professional sky diver and scientist, his love for Mythbusters, how Grandma Betty comes to sleep next to him at night as his angel...and how much we can love each other - him and I.

Love, Pain and the Possibility - you can't really have any one of these without the others.

Thank you Noah.

Since your little face came into my world, I am able to understand that with Love comes Pain, but then comes the Possibility.

I AM THE ALPHA MALE!!!

What could this entry possibly be about anyway you ask? Well, it is about feeling perfectly comfortable in sharing your view and place in the world.

I'm going to take you back several months to early July of this past year. We had just bought a puppy and had been discussing with Noah how you train puppies and the ins and outs of it. During this time, Noah was in his first year of T-ball...and not really loving it. It was hard for him to stand around and wait for a ball to come skidding his way. If he was fielding, you'd find him squatted down and drawing in the dirt at any given moment. Who knows what he was drawing, but that dirt was the only thing keeping his interest. The six weeks of T-ball felt like six months...especially when the first four weeks were just practice!

So here we were at Noah's 2nd or 3rd "game" and the coach realized if he was going to keep Noah's focus on the game, he'd have to put him at the pitcher's mound. But the team was so large they had TWO players on the mound. Noah and this other little boy that also like to draw in the dirt.

Proud Mom I was sitting in the bleachers watching my son. Noah sauntered out to the mound...and I mean sauntered. I closed my eyes and secretly prayed that Noah just pay enough attention to make it look good. I could feel the warm July sun on my face, soft breeze in the air, birds chirping and then...

..."I AM THE ALPHA MALE!!!!!!!!!! I AM THE ALPHA MALE!!!!"

Yes, that was Noah. My cute little T-baller. Screaming this from the pitcher's mound. I'm not sure at who. Was it the other team? Or was it the other dirt drawer that shared the mound with him. We will never know.

However one thing we do know...he was not afraid to share his view or place in this world.

I on the other hand was looking for my hiding place underneath the bleachers.

Noah was completely okay with who he was at that moment - The Alpha Male.

I. Was. Not.

Until later...when I got over my embarrassment and laughed at the replay in my head of this little peanut who doesn't even way 40 lbs stating his place on that field.

Good for you Noah. Own it.

A Moment of Truth

What is a moment of truth anyway? And why am I writing about it? Well...because of Noah. Most of what I write is derived from him in some way or another. Interesting enough, it is my six year old that told me the other day he had his moment of truth. How does he know what this is anyway? I'm not even sure I know what it is! As usual, he is about to teach me.

Noah started this conversation the other day when I was emptying the dishwasher. In fact, our most intriguing conversations seem to happen when we are doing those mundane, everyday things. So I'm emptying the dishes out of the dishwasher (all the while trying to keep Moe the puppy from licking the clean plates) when Noah comes up and hugs Moe and says, "Moe - I just looove you." Moe licks Noah's face to a reception of giggles.

"Mommy, isn't Moe so cute, he just has this face that you can't help but smile at. I'm so glad I picked him for my birthday". Well, really we had already picked him out for Noah, but Noah got to meet him at the breeder and make sure they would "get along".

"Mommy, Moe is my moment of truth".

"He is? What do you mean Noah?"

"Well, he just is. Kind of like when you had your moment of truth at Grandma Betty's funeral...when you stood up in front of all those people and gave your speech. Remember, Mommy? "

"Why was this my moment of truth, Noah"?

"Well, because Mommy...you gave your speech and cried a little bit in front of all those people when Grandma passed away. But it's okay, lots of people cry a little bit when someone they love passes away".

Amazing...he was right. I guess that was a moment of truth for me. But why?

My Grandmother passed away last Spring after a long battle with Alzheimer's and other illnesses. I had said a couple years ago that I'd like to speak at her funeral. There were just a few words I had wanted to say. And I was blessed to have the opportunity to do so. I was a little nervous, but maybe not as nervous as I should be. I had prepared and written a "speech" as Noah calls it. But ultimately, when I got up to the front of the church - it just came from the heart. I was able to share some thoughts that brought smiles to the faces and tears to the eyes. I felt good that I was able to share one last moment with my Grandma.

After the service we had a reception and several people (who I didn't know) came up to me and said, "Have you ever considered being a speaker?" Of all places...how funny I was being asked this at a funeral. But it warmed my heart. See...I had thought of that before, I love to write and then speak about things, people, experiences that touch me, move me. And through this I love to move others and bring them places emotionally - whether that be laughter, tears, wonder, etc. And here of all places I had the opportunity to do so at my Grandmother's funeral.

So yes, Noah - in a crazy kinda way, giving my "speech" at Grandma's funeral was a moment of truth for me. It was an opportunity for me to share a gift with others and hear that it is appreciated. And this might just be one of the things that has given me the courage to write these entries. Thank you Noah for bringing me full circle six months later and enlightening me that I too had a moment of truth.

Perhaps one day, I'll get a chance to share them as a speaker.

What Can You Learn From A Child?

What can you learn from a child? Wow...what can't you learn from a child is more the question!

I have so many funny stories and profound thoughts from my six year old son Noah, that I thought I'd begin to get them down in a more permanent way. If I take the time to listen and take in all that he does and says, I could learn a lot. So here I am...a student again. But this time my teacher is six!

My hope is that you too can learn a little and laugh a little at all that I share on this blog. And maybe...the next time you sit next to a child, you will take the time to listen.

You'll be amazed at what they can teach you.

Try it.

Listen.