Kids as Teachers

I can vividly recall 5 years ago, just before Scott and I met, like it was yesterday. The strange thing is, though Brodie is only 2, I cannot remember life without him. Mary, who is Scott's stepmom, is an amazing woman whom I am blessed to call my mother-in-law. When they were down here visiting yesterday, she and I were talking about how your entire perspective can change when there are kids involved.

As we chatted, I looked over to watch Scott's Dad pushing Brodie in his swing and said to Mary, "You know, I cannot believe that I spent 33 years completely convinced that I never wanted this," with "this" referring to a family. She never had any children of her own, yet she stepped into the role of mother and grandmother simultaneously. She loves her stepsons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren beyond belief. She said, "I think some people say they never want a family because they don't have one. Look at me. I'm not a religious person, but I am sure that God gave me this family." Such a true, beautiful sentiment. Kids taught her that lesson.

Every single day, Brodie amazes and empowers me more. One day, he is unable to do something or say a certain word, and the next day, VOILA! He accomplishes that same thing all by himself. We are taken aback by the progress, but he is unphased by it and moves swiftly on to the next challenge.

Last night was a prime example. I was on the phone with my Mom. I put it on speaker and put a picture book in front of Brodie and pointed to things I knew he could identify. With each word he stated, some far more clearly than others, he nodded his little head with confidence. I would point to things whose identity he does not readily know and state the name. He would, in turn, look at me and try to say the word, his eyes meeting mine and awaiting my approval. It doesn't sound like a big deal to most people, but I was so proud of him. Granted, the sea creature page features, in Brodiespeak, the following: "sark", "zeehoes", "owdoeputts", "skewd", "tingway", "duffin" and "tuttle". The words may not be succinct, but they make sense when taken in context.

Similiarly, when approaching a new toy, he just plays. In the process of playing, he figures the toy out, or make up his own way to play with it. There is always something going on in his head, and you can see the determination to learn constantly. it must be the most basic of survival instincts. We see it in animals yet many of us completely miss it when it comes to kids. They might not realize that they are learning at all times, but they are. And I have found that Brodie is constantly teaching me things about the world and, more importantly, about myself.

Kids are astounding like that. They just forge ahead, unphased by mistakes they might make. They are not embarrassed if they do not pronounce things correctly. They take everything in stride, find a value in every experience and embrace everything. As adults, we let our ego, pride, nerves...you name it....stop us from letting go and letting loose. We all need to let the lessons of being a child re-enter our lives. We need to get over fear of the unknown, give up control and actually enjoy life. It wasn't until recently that I realized how little "living" was doing. I have reached the point in my life where pushing a swing and saying, "BOO!" at just the right moment have become things to which I look forward. Call me crazy, but there is a massive lesson in the smile and the laughter that they invoke. The lessons my son have taught me cannot be learned anywhere but in our heart. They make no sense to anyone who has never loved a child...son, daughter, niece, nephew, stepchild...more than life itself.

Thank you, Mr. Brodie Thomas Clements, for being the shortest, cutest, more endearing teacher I have ever had!

Pregnancy Math for Dummies....or is it BY dummies?

As of today, I am 27 weeks pregnant. To the layperson, 27 weeks means 6 months, 3 weeks. Well, not according to pregnancy math....according to pregnancy math, I am in the final week of my 7th month. Next week, when I hit the 28 week milestone, I will be in my 8th month. I know what you are thinking! "But 28 divided by 4 is 7!" Yes, I know, but I defy you to argue with my uterus.

Let us begin at, well, the beginning. For starters, pregnancy is widely-thought to be a nine month experience. THIS IS WRONG! The standard pregnancy is 40 weeks, which is a total of 10 months. If you are confused, it is only because you are pregnant before you are pregnant. Well....not exactly. It's just that by the time you figure out you are pregnant, you have missed your period. They count from the first day of the last period you had, eventhough the egg was fertilized roughly two weeks later. So, eventhough conception had not occured until about 2 weeks before you MISS your period, you are already considered 4 weeks pregnant. Just when you thought you were TOTALLY confused, it gets worse!

Once you know you are pregnant, your first ultrasound will be used to determine your due date. Now, the doctors seem to take this as gospel, this very first ultrasound. Even if it differs from when you know you conceived (and when you are trying to conceive as long as we were and charting, documenting, counting and approaching it very scientifically, you KNOW when you conceived!) In my case, for some reason, my pregnancies get off to a very slow start. The embryos are smaller than they should be, the blood counts lower than they should be. Due to those factors, I am given one due date, but am actually due earlier. At the end of May, the medical staff was calling the ultrasound they were doing my 18 week scan. I told them it ws my 20 week scan. Convinced I was wrong, the sonographer and doctor checked every single measurement of the baby and guess what? He measured 19 weeks, 6 days....in other words, 20 weeks. He was, as Scott called him that day, "Officially half-baked"! Are you totally confused yet?

All of this brings me to trimesters. The definition of trimesters varies from one source to another. Logically, a 40 week pregnancy, when divided by 3 trimesters, means that each trimester is 13 weeks, 2 days long. Most sources concur that trimester 1 is weeks 0-12, the second trimester is weeks 13-26 and the third trimester is weeks 27-40. Some sources differ, but for now I will savor the thought that today began my third trimester. The sacred, uncomfortable, miserable rollercoaster toward the delivery of this amazing little creature within me. In all likelihood, he won't be "allowed" to remain in the womb for the full 40 weeks. Due to my high-risk status, I will probably deliver him about 3 weeks early like I did with Brodie.

Hmmmm....does that change the math? Dear God, I hope not. I've finally got it all figured out!!!!! Now, if I could just figure out how to get this abacus, calculator and protractor back into the womb!

No Greater Loves

This afternooon, we ventured out to a July 4th celebration in Duanesburg. It was a small, informal gathering, but well worth the trip out there. It was a wonderful history lesson, wherein Barbara Watt reminded us of the sacrifices the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence made - most of them, their lives. I was aware of their sacrifices, but am sure not many people are. Truth be told, it is not anything we were ever taught in school, because it does not fit into the agenda of the liberal masses controlling American education. I love my country, perhaps to a fault. I cannot say the Pledge of Allegiance, hear the Star Spangled Banner or thank a soldier without tears welling up. If I am at home, and I hear TAPS or the Star Spangled Banner on the television, I stand, silently, out of respect and gratitude, tears almost a certainty. I am a rarity, I am afraid, as far too many people take everyday freedoms for granted and do not realize that the line between what we have now - thanks to the courageous men who selflessly risked their lives by signing the Declaration of Independence - and not having those freedoms is being erased by our own inactions, ambivalence and arrogance. People have become of the mindset that voting is an expression of their rights, which, though partially true, is also a gross underestimate of the power and purpose of democracy. Voting is an obligation; To those who provided and defend, to this day, the very ideals upon which our great nation was founded. It is an obligation to our children to ensure that we keep a firm grip on those ideals. It is a duty to vote to maintain the entire American dream. For generations, people from all over the globe have given everything to become Americans, yet many Americans totally lack appreciation of the gift it is to be an American. As I said, I love my country.

I also love my family to a fault. Our day at the picnic was cut short when Brodie, in a typical display of 2-year-old agility, launched himself off a picnic bench and met the concrete with his face. He ripped his lip open and let out a scream. I am a non-reactionary Mom, because I have learned that kids feed off of our anxieties. I scooped him up and held him while Scott cleaned the blood from his face and assessed the injury. Barb got him ice to stop the bleeding and he was calm as could be. The swelling made it hard to determine a need for stiches, so we erred on the side of caution and headed to the emergency room. The trip there made me sick to my stomach. I thought of the possibility of having to watch him have stiches. My heart sank in the way only a parent's can as I thought of how scared he would be. Once we got there, they determined that he didn't need stitches, but we discovered that he broke one of his front teeth off. It could have been so much worse, but, once you see your child bleed, it takes some time for that to sink in. He's no worse for the wear, but it was another reminder to me that my entire world is my family. The love I have for them is more than any one heart should be able to produce. There is no greater love.