It's All a matter of Perspective

Mom peeking in the rear view mirror: "Sophie, are you sleeping?"
Sophie: "No, I'm just resting my eyelids."

My parents live 800 miles north of us in a west suburb of the ever-expanding shadow of Chicago. On trips like that, or even on the 4-hour trip to my in-laws house we pray that Sophie will sleep....a LOT. It saves a lot of pain all around. When she's awake and stuck in the car for long periods of time she can get.....fussy. When she's fussy, we suffer.

In truth, even when she's awake and bubbling with joy and goodwill, her curious mind lets loose an endless stream of questions, comments and observations to which she requires an answer or comment to every one. After an hour or two, it can be a little tiring, especially if you're someone who relishes peace, quiet and silent reflection.

On the flip side, when we take shorter trips, like to our zoo which is an hour away, the last thing we want on the drive home is for Sophie to fall asleep and take her nap in the car. If she does that, we're robbed of a couple of hours of getting things done around the house once we get home. Those short car power naps are all that it takes to recharge her batteries and energize her for the rest of the day. So we are constantly making sure that she doesn't fall asleep by talking to her, tickling her, giving her food; whatever it takes.

The day she gave this response to our attempt to keep her awake was the day we realized that we'd hit another milestone; one that would require us to stay on our toes even more than before. We have a politician on our hands. She's three years old (at the time) and she knows how to spin.

I think that being able to spin  a situation or statement is an incredible art form. It amazes me that I can read a piece on Fox News' site, go over to MSNBC and see the same situation described in an entirely different way, with an opposite conclusion; both sounding very plausible.

Perspective is merely spin to your advantage. Unfortunately, it's not always honest. While I applaud our daughter's ability to use her creative mind to quickly come up such a witty response, she'll need to learn and heed the point at which spinning passes simply sharing her perspective and becomes lying.

DYKWIM?

"Yea! We're going to the A B C D Y to go swimming!"

We have a beautiful lake across the street from our house. In the winter the cold blue sky is reflected on it and the bare brown trees provide a stark contrast to the blue. In the summer it's exploding with wildlife. There are hawks that live in the area and they scream to each other over the water as they look for mates and proclaim their territory. We have turtles and snakes and other creepy crawlers there. Canada geese arrive in formation and take over the beach area, calling to each other and squabbling like little children night and day.

Which is the reason that we don't usually go swim in the lake. It's nice to look at and the beach is a fun place to play....as long as you avoid green goose droppings. Even though the lake is tested regularly, come mid-summer, there are weird globules of algae floating around and the bottom has that slimy suck-you-under sediment that's uncomfortable to walk through.

Which is the reason that we decided to look into getting a membership at the YMCA even though we have a lake with a beach, a dock and a slide right across the street from us. My husband took our daughter for a tour the first time and she loved being in the kids' room while he examined the weights and other areas she didn't care about. The nice people at the Y gave us several free passes so we could get a feel for whether we wanted to join or not. The second time we went was to go swimming. Once we were all dressed, we moved down towards the car, which is when Sophie let loose with her exclamation. It was cute, but it also reminded me of one of my least favorite things; acronyms.

There was a time when acronyms were used only for long names of things like YMCA, MRI, and FDA. For most of us, we don't even remember what they stand for, but the acronyms have become the product or program.

With the advent of text messaging acronyms have been taken to a new level. I'll read something on Facebook or a friend's blog and see a series of letters and have no idea what they mean. For instance, one friend writes about her HHBL. Any idea what an HHBL is? According to the Urban Dictionary, it's hunka-hunka burnin' love. I'm assuming that's her husband.

What's even worse to me how acronyms have bled into notes and e-mails we send. Over the past thirty years our society has gone through an amazing transformation. We used to wait by the mailbox for that personal, hand written note from a loved one because hand writing was really the fastest way to write something, even though there were typewriters. In the early 1980's word processors came along and people started typing out their correspondence even though they still had to mail the letters (and the United States Post Office sincerely misses those days). Entering the middle 1980's AOL (eek, an acronym) changed everything. E-mail and instant messaging were born and handwriting all but disappeared.

Today it's not good enough that a thought can be transmitted instantaneously via e-mail, text message or blog. Even these messages have to be abbreviated as though the person on the other end is so busy that they can't take the extra five seconds to write thank you but instead feel it necessary to use ty instead.

If you haven't guessed, I'm not a fan of abbreviations. If I write to you I won't use them because I think you're worth taking the time to write out the whole word for. When I sign my name I won't put c or cp, but I'll let you know that I'm Christiane.

Our daughter is growing up in this age and will most likely look at this and think I'm an old fogey. but, I'm sure that when she's in college and opens her mail box and finds a personalized, hand written note from her mother in there, she'll say TYVM. DYKWIM?

Appearances Can Be Deceiving

Sophie: Mommy, your brownies and poop are the same color.

I am one of those rare people who don't like chocolate. It's beyond the, "I just don't care for it," stance and all the way to the point where I just won't eat desserts that have chocolate in them (though I have been known to make an exception for cheesecake). My husband enjoys chocolate but can go without it and doesn't go out of his way to find it.

Proving that the chocolate addiction is a gene thing and not just a habit that's picked up from being around others with the same need, our daughter (who, remember, is adopted) is a die hard chocoholic. I don't think she even had a piece before she was two simply because I hoped that feeding her fruit early on would create a love for that form of natural sugar, but upon the first bite of chocolate, all that changed.

Since our little lady did develop a taste for this nasty thing, I knew that I'd be making desserts here and there with it. Since my husband does like brownies, those end up being my go-to treat. Even if not using a box, it's pretty hard to mess them up.

One day sometime after having a brownie as a treat, I went in to help Sophie finish her "business" and she came out with that gem of a quote. The fact that it's true is a bit horrifying. The fact that I've used brownies to make a litter box cake even more so (though I didn't tell her that).

The truth of the matter is that appearances can be deceiving, especially in a society like ours that is so easy to use stereotypes so easily.  A friend of mine once told me about an exercise that he had to do with a group of others. They walked into a room and were presented with an arrangement of cardboard cut-out men and women ranging in age, race, economic status, etc.  Each person was asked to go stand by the person with whom they thought they would feel most comfortable going out on a date. After everyone had settled next to their cardboard man or woman, the leader of the group started reading descriptions of these real-life personalities. Some women had chosen to stand next to a well-dressed, handsome man in his early 30s who was actually a rapist. Men stood next to a woman who had beaten her child to death because she had a beautiful smile and looked so nice.  We just never know.

Deception has gone far beyond face-to-face though. Working with an Internet technology company, I am more than aware of the dangers that social networking sites present. I have three friends on Facebook who have an extraordinary amount of friends; 1,943 1,066, and unbelievably 2,658. I find it hard to believe that these three people really know those "friends" yet they continue to post personal information about their lives on their page; travel plans, concert attendance, dinners out, etc. Why not just post a sign out front of their house that says, "Hey thieves, we're not home"?  

It's sad that we have to teach our daughter that appearances can be deceiving and that she needs to be wise and aware at all times. The days of heading to the park on her own are over. Even playing in the front or back yards is supervised and she knows not to talk to strangers no matter how nice they appear to be. 

Some say she's shy as a result, but appearances are deceiving. She's just smart.

No Retirement Home For Us

Sophie: Daddy's not very old.
Mommy: No, Daddy's not old.
Sophie: But someday he will be.
Mommy: Yes, he will.
Sophie: But we can still keep him.

It's been an incredible experience watching a three year-old try to get a handle around the concept of time, whether it's the fact that there are still two weeks until Christmas or that tonight is still today or that even though I'm old in comparison to Sophie, I'm not at all when compared with her Papa.

Conversations like this one tend to pop up out of the blue, so I can only figure that the wheels have been turning for some time before the conclusion that can finally be shared has been drawn.

I'm guessing this thought process came up as a result of culling Sophie's clothes one day. We made two piles; one of clothes that were too small but good enough to give away and one of clothes that were too small, but were so old and worn out that they needed to be thrown away. Sometimes there's a bit of separation anxiety when an especially loved item is about to make its exit. We're going through it right now with a pair of pajamas that Sophie adores even though we can see three inches of stomach peeking between the bottom of the shirt and top of the pants and the pants themselves meet all qualifications for being dubbed high waters. The knees are worn through and there are several holes along the seams that have been mended and re-mended to the point where there isn't enough material to grab and hold with the needle and thread. In spite of that, Sophie's adamant that the pajamas will not be thrown out but given to a two year-old friend because their tremendous comfort worth far outweighs their nasty appearance. Even though they're old, she wants them to be kept.

It's wonderful to know that Sophie sees her Daddy in this same light. I hope and pray that as we do get older and she follows her own path; begins a career and maybe her own family, she'll look at us with our worn knees, mended bodies and threadbare minds and insist that we're still worth holding close to her heart because she loves us so much.

Biding the Law

Sophie: Daddy, do you like my cute little boobies?
Daddy: Sophie, by law I am absolutely not allowed to answer that question.

Some time ago I read a news piece about a couple whose children were taken away from them for a short while by social services after an employee of large chain store developed family photos, including some shot in the bath because that employee deemed them to be sexually explicit. Not long before that, our pediatrician told our Sophie during her three-year check-up that no one except her mommy or the doctor should ever touch Sophie "down there." Understand, this includes her father.

At first it was very funny to me when I overheard this conversation between Sophie and her daddy. It was so innocent and wonderful. However, soon after that, the extent of what Doug was saying sunk in and I was saddened by what our society has turned us into.

The unfortunate thing is that while we read the very rare story about a parent accused of sexual impropriety where they were simply doing something innocent, more often then not we're broadsided on a regular basis by stories about young children being mistreated by a parent or some other trusted adult. So, while I hate that we've come to this, I appreciate and applaud both our pediatrician and my husband for erring on the side of caution and choosing to remain blameless, even from the standpoint of conjecture. I remember someone telling me once that Billy Graham would never be seen in a room with only another woman because he wanted to give no reason for anyone to start a rumor or story about him.

So, while our daughter goes through this phase where everything is about boobies or poop and until she learns completely how to wipe herself after using the potty and til that day when it's safe for her to bathe or shower alone, my husband will make himself scarce and I'll be the one handling the toilet paper and wash cloth.

Preschoolers Against Napping

I don't like naps. I don't know how to sleep.

There isn't anything a parent fights more in the growth of their child than the loss of the afternoon nap. The infamous "they" say that naps disappear between the 3rd and 4th year. I agree. Sophie's naps are starting to go away and she's going on 3 1/2.

However, naps are still very much needed.....sometimes. We're learning to discern when the young lady does and doesn't need to sleep. We're also trying to make sure that when we put Sophie to bed for a nap it's not because WE need her to take one, but because she's actually tired. Ok, we're not trying that hard on that one, but we we're working on it.

It's been interesting (and sometimes fun) to watch nap avoidance techniques evolve as Sophie gets older and wiser. What used to be just the cut and run, had become practice for a future in debate. Sometimes we get the cut and run while debating over her shoulder, but I think she's realized that she will never win the running game. Of course, there are other techniques being tried, including stalling and getting up after the door closes, but the debate technique is in full force as language skills increase.

This statement was the first time that Sophie's actually given the statement about not liking naps and then included the reason as back-up. I was impressed. I probably shouldn't have laughed, but she laughed with me and it ended up being a great hug moment for us. We've tried hard to explain a lot of the things that she and we have to do simply because she hasn't had enough life experience to know those things for herself yet. There are times when it's important that she obey then and there and she's learning that as well (especially when safety is concerned), however as we continue to treat her as a little person instead of following the antiquated adage of "children should be seen but not heard" she will learn more and faster.

Eventually Sophie will have a better reason than she doesn't know how to sleep for not wanting to nap, and as a result of that she will be able to stay up instead. That day's not here yet. After she said this wonderful statement, she went to bed and we didn't hear another peep for hours.

I Can't Have It All

Sophie: How much are you asking for Mommy?

Mommy: (singing Queen's song) I want it all.

Sophie: You can't have it all Mommy.

It's another phase we're going through in the house. The love of shopping at the grocery store. If we can't actually be in a REAL grocery store, Sophie will set one up in the family room and we are given opportunity after opportunity to buy things. In this instance, Sophie wanted to know how many eggs I was looking to purchase. When I told her that I wanted all of them, I was summarily told the truth we all learn at some point in life; I just can't have it all.

While I'm not sure when and where Sophie learned that I can't have it all, I'm positive that she has no clue that she can't have it all yet. Many times conversations with our little lady start with her saying, "I want...." Beyond the fact that we're working to change those two word to a better four-word version; "Can I please have...." we're also trying to teach Sophie that even if she asks nicely she just will not always be able to get what she wants.

One thing that we have learned throughout the work of changing the "I want it all" mindset is giving a full explanation as to why she (and we) can't have it all. Whether it's reminding her that she already has a half-dozen baby dolls and so no, she doesn't need the one she sees at the store or that dinner is in 30 minutes so no, she can't have a cookie right then, it's obvious that she appreciates it when we take the time to tell her why we've made the decision about what she can't and can have.

Sophie will continue with the "you can't have it all" learning process for quite a while, but somewhere along the line, probably in her 30's or so, the lesson might be forgotten. I know that because I've seen it lived out on the news and somewhat in my own life. Forgetting that we can't have it all means running up high credit card balances in the attempt to get it all even if we can't afford to. Forgetting means scamming millions out of your company and leaving your employees with nothing and then getting caught and losing it all anyhow.

Even this morning Sophie showed us another lesson that can be learned from not being able to have it all. When she told me that she wanted something and I had to tell her that she couldn't have it, her next question was, "Can I have it another day?" Delayed gratification. What a wonderful lesson.

Sophie, it's a different song, but the same principle; "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes you just might find, you get what you need."