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After I posted last week, I instituted a new approach to help Kamden with his anxiety. I completely stole it from someone I follow on Instagram.  She's kind of famous and kind of like someone popular in high school (except that she seems like a very nice person) that I admire from afar. 

Anyway, it appears that they use a reward system to help fight anxiety. It got me to thinking. I was taking the approach that this was out of Kamden's control. What if we turned this around and taught him that he has some control over this?

This was after we made a decision, a hard one, to have him miss his best buddy's birthday party because it involved seeing the new Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movie. He knew it would haunt him at bedtime, the bad guys, the fighting, etc. It wasn't an easy decision but we thought if we could avoid adding to his anxiety, it was the right decision.

So what did he worry about that night instead? That his friend would be upset that he didn't come to the party. *facepalm*

(Exhibit A: found on my phone - goofball)

I may or many not have lost my s--t at that point. My conclusion was that he was going to worry no matter what. I mean, sometimes he is just anxious about being anxious, for goodness sake.  

That's it, we have to take the power away from the anxiety. He had to take control.  So what better way to have a kid take control than by providing a reward? We must use a language that speaks to them. That in itself is a sad state of affairs but that's another post. I may write it too....helicopter parenting is failing us. I work with the adults it creates. Be afraid. Be very afraid.

 

We are now over two weeks into the reward.  It's $5 a night. His anxiety always hits at bedtime complete with dizziness and a look on his face, not unlike the one below, no wait that his deadpan look, not quite the same.

He gets $5 for every night he can fight the anxiety and go to sleep without excessive worry.  The "worry" involves coming into our room after we have all gone to bed upset about the anxiety du jour - examples include but are not limited to:  he has a major health problem (the same night he ran for two hours straight at football practice....um no, you are fine), something will happen to Mom and Dad (we are good dude, no worries), scary noises in his room (house shifting, car doors outside etc), school (pick random worry and insert here) etc.... lather, rinse, repeat.

(we ran a 5 km race a bit back, at least we ran some of it)

It was something new every night. Oh yeah, then there was my epic parenting fail.  EPIC.  It's possible this entire anxiety thing could be blamed on me.

I shouldn't even write about it here. Maybe. Oh what the hell. It's sort of funny. In a I suck as a mom kind of way.

This summer, we lost Jay's dad.  It was sudden and it hit Kamden pretty hard. He hasn't dealt with death yet in his young life except when my cat died and my parents dog which I think we can all agree is not quite the same thing.

One day, he came down while I was working to relay something that happened that he couldn't figure out. He was putting the stuffed animals he sleeps with back into his bed before he made it one morning. He grabbed one, leaving the other at the end of the bed. When he turned back around to grab the last one, it was gone.

He found it in his hamper.

I had no explanation and so without thinking (me? speak without thinking?  So out of character for me) I said oh maybe Granddaddy was messing with you.

I mean, I watch Long Island Medium, it could totally happen, right? And it would so be something in character for Jay's dad. One of his favourite words was buffoonery after all. 

(Exhibit B - buffoonery defined)

So yeah. Not a good thing to tell a 10 year old boy, in case you were wondering. About a month later, he came to in tears me as I was falling asleep saying maybe it's Granddaddy making all the scary noises he hears when he's trying to fall asleep. That was my first clue about the epic parenting fail. Yes, I am slow on the uptake.

After much reassurance and the use of the word buffoonery several times, I convinced him that his granddaddy would NEVER try to scare him. EVER.

Mess with him to make him laugh, absolutely, but the noises are just the house, or possibly his overactive imagination or its paranormal activity that I am too old to hear or something.... Oops. I went too far again, didn't I?  Kidding, I didn't say the part about the paranormal activity.  This time.

The are several morals points  here:

- I didn't cause the anxiety with my fail (it was already gaining its own momentum) but I did exasperate it exponentially
- he does have control or at least some control because we are well over two weeks without a late night of excessive worry. He is always a bit apprehensive at bedtime but we each have to think of at least two good things that make us happy before I hug him goodnight. That gives him something else to focus on. Take that,  "worry".
- he takes some awesome pictures that make me smile daily. See Exhibit A through C:

(Exhibit C)

I might be married to a human giraffe.

Now that's something to worry about.

(I take his anxiety very seriously. I may have made up this system of dealing with it but it seems to be working for now. I am also saving for future therapy costs as Plan B.)

Momma Smack Down

See that?  That is music to my eyes.

The boys received their report cards this past Tuesday. I won't get into details but someone, not mentioning any names, hasn't cracked a book all year.

He still squeaked onto the honour roll.  I have no idea how.  Horseshoes maybe?
And he also failed to meet his reading goal.

He is normally a straight A student.  He hasn't had to work very hard thus far but he's now in grade 7.  Things are getting more challenging and rather than adjusting his study habits (which right now are nil nada none) he is coasting.

This momma laid down the law.

You might think I am being harsh but here's the thing.  This type of work ethic will get you no where fast in life never mind high school and post-secondary education.

Not to mention on my watch, everyone will give full effort.  If you try your best, you are successful. Period. End of story.

You get the picture.

Here is where I have to confess our part in this.  You see this is not all his doing.  Oh no. We are the adults in the household and these adults got lazy.

The hours of screen time had reached an all time high here at Chez Lahti. 

I kept justifying it with the fact that they were doing well in school, were reasonably active and still have friends. No one wants their kids to end up loners who play videos games alone in the basement all day and night.

And it's a constant battle.  The battle of screen time.  Kids today (and adults) are glued to a screen. It doesn't matter which type....it's all the same. We are turning into screen zombies

So the smack down happened. Our boys both have earn screen time now.  They can earn it by reading a book (remember those?), doing homework, physical activity, yard work, practicing piano.

At first they were appalled.  We were the meanest parents ever (we are for the record, and I am cool with that).

However, after almost a week, I am amazed at the change. They are proud of the reading and practicing they have done to earn their screen time and they are self policing their screen time.

And we have had more conversations, more laughs, more time together than we have for a long time.

I was a wonderful wake up call.  It was needed both for us and for the boys.

So we are planning sticking to it.  I hope we do.

Growing Up J & K

A few years ago, longer ago that it seems (I am positive!) we repainted the boys' rooms. They each picked decals to stick up to decorate (we really go all Martha Stewart up in our house), Jack chose Cars and Kamden chose Toy Story.

At the time, they were what both were right into. Today, that has changed. Today, Jack started peeling them off. The topic came up a couple of days ago and I told them that if they wanted to remove them, they could. I know that growing up means changing tastes. Heck, I am no longer growing up (well the jury is actually still out on this one, I am predicting a hung jury - bets are still open, get in while the getting is good) and my tastes change.

They seemed surprised,which I found a bit funny. Go me, being all hip and proactive! (I am about 1 for 850 on that front so don't be jealous)

It's weird. Part of me thinks I should be all sad and nostalgic for those two little boys who once so loved the characters from those movies. But a much bigger part of me knows that this is a moment to rejoice in.

They are growing up.

And to be honest my reaction is, wow, this is cool. The next stage in this journey from boy to man. The journey that I get a front row seat on. It can be rough up here in the front (I have the war wounds to prove it - or are those from my clumsiness?) but hey, it comes with the territory.

And quite frankly, I would not have it any other way. This is exactly how it's supposed to be.

I am not, however, looking forward to when Star Wars the Clone Wars and Phinneas and Ferb are replaced by Selina Gomez(or whoever is hip or groovy or what are they even calling it now...groovy, how old am I?) or (this is hard to even type) (gasp!)
Lady Gaga.

Okay, maybe I am. Because if the Star Wars the Clone Wars stays, my house may become something akin to The Big Bang Theory.

Now that might be something to worry about.

Miss me? Tales of a lost Tooth and a Dimple

Where does the time go?

I have been a busy beaver. Turns out working for a living takes up my spare time. Who knew?

Seriously though, I was away the last three weekends in a row for work which was fun, challenging (I had to present in front of 40 or more people....gulp, and I did and it was fun), and generally exhausting.

I got home early this morning (1 am UGH) and was very happy to crawl into my own bed.

This morning at breakfast, Kamden lost the front tooth that has been hanging on forEVER. I was really happy I didn't miss it!

I didn't really think it was possible, but he is cuter.

But still the same old twerp we know and love.

This guy too. That dimple is something, ain't it?

So...

I was uploading some pictures to Flickr today and I found this one of my boys. I forget how little they once were.

Oh my word. The baldness. The cute glasses. The bruise under Kamden's left eye.

The memories! Yes, even the bruise brings back fond memories. Kamden is that kind of kid. Bruises were par for the course.

It is kind of unbelievable how quickly the time has gone. That was June 2006.

Now it is January 2011. Four and half years later.

You may have noticed I haven't been around to visit your blog as much lately. Or not.

I started working 80% full time last week. It is fun and challenging and scary all at the same time.

It is also making me reflect on how crazy lucky I have been and continue to be. I am still working from home for the same organization I have been doing contract work with for the last 5 plus years, just doing different things.

I would not trade these last 5 years for all the successful careers in China. Not that I am not successful in my career, I just took a really different non-focused on my career sort of path, if that makes any sense.

I was home for that brief blip in time when my two little men were small. That is a gift that I have and will never regret for a nanosecond.

The fact that it has now led to further opportunities has me wondering how I got so lucky.

And also making me laugh because basically my New Year's resolution for 2011 was to work more.

What the?

I Don't Remember

I don't remember when they stopped wearing Robeez and started wearing big kid shoes.

But I do remember their chubby toes that were, and still are, incredibly ticklish.

I don't remember when they stopped needing me to carry them everywhere and started walking on their own two feet.

(Photo by Details Photography Studio)

But I do remember their weight on my hip, their soft heads as I leaned in to plant a kiss on their silky hair.

I don't remember when they stopped wanting to read "Guess How Much I Love You" and started wanting Robert Munsch books.

But I do remember telling them that I loved them right up to the moon and back.

I don't remember when they stopped playing with Fisher Price toys and started playing superheroes.

But I do remember watching as they began to see each other as a playmate.

I don't remember when they stopped calling me Mama and started calling me Mommy.

But I do remember how it feels each and every time I hear that special title that will always be the most important one bestowed upon me: Mommy.

I don't remember every moment.

But I do remember the most important ones.