Sonar X8

Any of you remember this little chunk?

Happy Birthday baby!

Valor

Somehow I managed to miss Sonar X5’s four year immunizations.  Not sure how, but considering how many childhood immunizations there are nowadays, and the certainty of springtime illnesses around here, I suppose it isn’t too surprising.  He must have them to enter kindergarten in the fall, so off we went to get him up to date.  

I believe in letting the kids prepare themselves for hard stuff such as this, so last night we were talking about shots, talking about what he would take with him to help him feel brave, answering his questions, and giving him detailed lessons in immunology.  

X5: Will I get them in the arm or the leg?  

Me:  You’re a big kid now.  Arm for sure. 

X5:  How many shots will there be?

Me:  (feeling uninformed) I can’t remember.  Not more than four.  Probably two or three. 

X5:  Shots hurt, but then it will be over with and I won’t have to think about it again for a while.

Me:  Right.

This morning he chose to bring along a small stuffed elephant, just right for squeezing one hand around the middle in a moment of pain or panic.  He was his usual self in preparation, except that he wanted to sit in my lap in the waiting room, much to Sonar X3’s chagrin.  

When we asked the doc how many shots there’d be, and she cheerfully answered Four at Four, I mentally kicked myself.  Sonar X5 shrugged nervously, wrinkled his nose and asked if they’d do two on each side.  :)  The doc left (aren’t they just cowards) and the nurse returned with the four syringes and Sonar X5 squeezed his elephant and rolled up his sleeves.  Even Sonar X3, who had been climbing and bouncing all over the waiting chair seemed to recognize the gravity of the situation and sat completely still, watching in silent horror as the nurse spread the implements of torture and four banana yellow bandaids around Sonar X5 on the table.  

I asked if he wanted to hold my hand (no), cautioned that he needed to be still, and joked that he shouldn’t kick or hit the nurse (she didn’t laugh).  She told him that if he moved and the needle came out, she’d have to poke him again.  He tersely nodded his understanding.  

With the first poke, he squeezed his eyes tightly shut, maybe a small tear leaked out at the corner.  With the second poke, he took a deep breath, squeezing the elephant within an inch of its life.  Now the nurse was impressed.  She lavished praise for his bravery as she applied the banana yellow bandaids to the injection sites.  Pokes three and four followed in similar fashion.  Not a squeak.  Not a yelp or a twitch.  

He faced down each injection with a fierce kind of bravery, and when it was over, blew out a long slow breath, accepted with a tiny smile all of our praise and adoration and hugs and hair ruffling.  

The nurse wished that all kids were as good and brave as he was (we hoped the same for her), and that she was sure he would be her best patient all day.  

Both Sonars got stickers.  We popped into the grocery store for fresh bubble solution, luscious smelling strawberries (that were on sale!), a small watermelon, and  sherbet for a milkshake.  

We should all face our trials with such conviction, confidence, and fortitude.  Maybe it would help if we got bubbles and ice cream every time we had to do something hard.  :)

Gryffindor

Scarlet, KnitPicks Essentials
Gold, Bernat Sox

US Size 2 dpns
My basic sock recipe, worked over 56 stitches, with ribbed cuff and foot-top
Made for Sonar X7 for no reason except that he had no homemade socks that fit him anymore.

Mother's Day, Part 1: An Idyllic Time

There has been magic in my family this year. I turned around the other day and caught sight of it. Good thing, too. I might have missed it entirely.

My Sonars are getting bigger, getting more independent, doing more and more things to take care of themselves and to take care of me.

In August, Sonar X7 started going to and from school on his own, on his bike. I’ve facilitated his transfer only a handful of times, during rain and illness. After a couple of weeks of anxiety, in which we followed shortly behind him to make sure he didn’t need to be scraped off the sidewalk, the pride settled in for me. I was proud that he was able to negotiate the bike, the helmet, the backpack, the half-mile, the crossing of the big street, the parking, the locking, and the satisfaction of arriving under his own power. His joy at going fast, or slow, or meandering, or whatever way he decided to go, was so apparent and so infectious.

One consequence of his independence was the other two Sonars not having to get up and get ready as early in the morning. Through kindergarten and first grade for Sonar X7, we all got up at the same time, all ate breakfast, all rushed and flurried out the door to walk or drive up to the school. Then the preschool pack and I would come back and settle into our routine. Now though, Sonar X7 is up and off before the other two even crawl out of bed. So our mornings start off quietly and gently, sometimes one at a time. I love this because there are unexpected moments of quiet snuggling, sleepy morning questions and dreams.

Another consequence of Sonar X7’s independence is that the rest of us get a leisurely quiet time in the afternoon, not interrupted by the packing up and heading off to school to pick him up. So we each settle into a spot with books or puzzles, or as often as not for me, the computer, for a while. Some of us sometimes go to sleep. Then we wake up and color or draw until Sonar X7 gets home. Our afternoon then tumbles into a flurry of snacks, homework, and playing outside until dinnertime.

Tucked away in the spaces in between, Sonar X5 is learning to read. Watching him figure out the way the letters and words work to make meaning is one of the coolest things ever. I’ve been here before with the biggest Sonar, but it’s still magic. Each of them has stumbled toward literacy in his own way. Sonar X7’s reading acquisition reminded me of childbirth. It came later than I expected, and then it was sudden and messy and violent and then he was a reader. Now he reads anything and everything he can lay his hands on. His bed table holds the Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and encyclopedia of the weird, a comic book, and he’s lying in bed reading Dragonrider by Cornelia Funke. Sonar X5 is sneaking up on literacy. Quietly working out the words that are all around him. Cereal boxes. Some of his books. An activity page here or there. A question about how something is spelled or pronounced. And now he can read all the words on a kindergarten readiness page. He can read most of the words in a few books, partly from working them out and partly from memory. And it’s so delicious to watch how patiently and hard he works at it. Shaping the words in his mouth, listening inside his head, then smiling proudly when realization hits. This is not to say that he doesn’t get frustrated. But he doesn’t let the frustration overwhelm him. When he gets tired, he walks away, knowing in his quiet way that tomorrow he will try again.

In other quiet spaces, Sonar X3 is wondering where he fits in all of this. Nothing so dramatic as learning to read, though he is discovering that he knows most of his letters and numbers, and that feels good to him. He is figuring out how to draw lines and shapes with more intention, which he finds funny. His development though is focused now on the emotional. He sees the things that his siblings are doing, and tries to understand it. He is bold, and a combination of our encouragement and his personality has mostly kept him from being babied by the other kids and most of their friends. But the gulf that separates them is spreading right now. Reading, and very soon kindergarten for Sonar X5 will stretch that gap even farther. And I think Sonar X3 is feeling a little sad about that, though he’s not yet capable of expressing it. I don’t know how this will work itself out, how the two of us will negotiate our time when the older kids go off to school together in August. But I’m excited to figure it out.

Next school year we will likely return to all rising together to accompany Sonar X5 to school. I think there’s a very good chance that he won’t want my company for as long as Sonar X7 did. Seven was forging a new path, with all the anxiety and excitement that entailed. Five sees how his brother has gone before, and has a better idea of what to do. Perhaps after a time the two of them will go off together without me and Three. Three will follow suit in two years, going off on his own kindergarten adventure. And my patterns, my negotiations and requirements will shift again.

I am feeling profoundly lucky today, as a mom, for this right now. For the reading, for the independence, for the emotional development, for the relatively calm and quiet transitions, for having time with each kid that is just mine and theirs. For being able to be here and see it with the confidence that our family is secure, that Partner and I are in agreement about how we want things to work, that each of us is doing our share on the team as we all grow together.

Happy Mother’s Day to all of the beautiful women out there, wherever you are in your negotiation of life.

Potpourri

In no meaningful order, I’m throwing a little grab bag at you for today.

~The smaller Sonars and I recently watched Mary Poppins. The movie was so much more dreadfully boring and weird than I remembered, but we all loved the songs. Sonar X5, in particular, has reveled in deploying the tunes with his own new and delightful body (bawdy) lyrics. No, not gonna share those. But I will share that Sonar X3 can’t seem to call the movie by it’s right name. He calls it Harry Poppins every time. No matter what we tell him. Cracks me up every time. It might help to know that we’ve been reading all of the Harry Potter books out loud. Anywhere from a few pages to a chapter each day for the last YEAR. We have six chapters left of book 7. Harry Poppins. Just a spoonful of magic makes the dark lord go doooown, dark lord go down.

~We went to a minor league baseball game last weekend. The Corpus Christi Hooks are part of the Houston Astros farm system. We had a great time, got a little sunburned and ate burgers after. I loved it. The Sonars were less enthusiastic this time, not sure why. But a baseball stadium always makes me a bit nostalgic for high school. I spent four summers during my teens working as an usher and ticket seller for the Albuquerque Dukes. Great, though often peculiar fun was had. My old team is no longer the Dukes, by the way. They’re now the Isotopes. Because of the national lab-space-military industrial complex in New Mexico? Because of the Trinity site out in the eastern part of the state? Because someone in power is a big fan of The Simpsons? Anyway, minor league baseball games are good fun. Free tickets and special deals often abound if you hunt for them. And you get to experience a lot of the pomp and fanfare of the big leagues for a lot less money. We got Craig Biggio commemorative figurines on our visit. No, I don’t really know who he is either.

~It’s new underwear weekend around here. I handle a lot of laundry and decided finally that the state of everyone’s underwear was just really rather sad. So it was comfort waist boxer-briefs for two Sonars (the third Sonar has really lovely underwear, mainly because he never wears any). Soft, stretchy cotton bikinis for me. Partner’s were also ok, because he replenished the underwear stock a few weeks ago—grey and blue boxer-briefs. I also plan to get a couple of bras. I put on one yesterday and the underwire sprung out and punctured my armpit. Ok, not punctured, but you know what I mean. That leaves me with two industrial sports bras, one bra with a poking out underwire, one with a bent underwire, and way way back in the back of my drawer, three nursing bras that, though I’ve not been nursing any babies for some time, still hang out back there. So let’s just say that it’s time for me to do a little drawer-cleaning and that a couple of pretty bras that don’t necessarily have nipple-flaps might be nice. ;)

~Three more days to sexy new computer. Though apologies are in order for this lovely old gal. It wasn’t her fault at all that the computer wasn’t connecting to the internet properly. It was the evil old phone company. Gr.

~We’re in the throes of deciding on our new internet service provider. We can choose between pricey local company with wireless network and cheaper evil cable empire. You might think that the evil epithet means I will choose the local company, but the decision is not that easy. The cost and the contract and the slightly slower connection add up against them, especially the long contract. Against the cable company: we don’t currently have cable service, and if we opt to keep it that way, we pay a $10 surcharge for having only broadband service. Jerks. Pluses for big cable: speed, no service charge, no gigantic equipment to install. Pluses for the two lovable geeks down the street: personal service by actual human beings, supporting the local economy, and not taking the fast food option and joining the evil empire. Tough call.

~The squirrels around our place are going crazy. Our house, yard, trees, and fences are like this gigantic racetrack right now. They chase each other everywhere, up down around over across. Zoom zoom zoom. Spring fever? Mating time? Nut wars?

~I love the end of a bag of tortilla chips, the crunchy bits down in the bottom. I pour them into a bowl and dollop some salsa on top and eat them with a spoon. The very best part are the bits that get just a teensy bit soggy by the time I get to them. Good stuff.

~So, I knew I was sick. Really sick for a while. At least I thought I knew. And then I got better. And was completely shocked to find out just how sick I had been. It didn’t hit me until I really felt better that I had been so horribly, deeply, miserably sick. Breathing in particular is good. Nice, deep, cough-free, wheeze-free breaths. Breathing makes everything else so much easier to do.

~Partner picked a gallon of ripe cherry tomatoes out of the back yard this morning. No exaggeration. A gallon. He thinks that there are at least three or four more gallons of tomatoes out there on the verge of being ripe. Want some tomatoes?

~Sonar X7 has three more weeks of school. And a birthday coming up. This computer is older than he is.

~We’re having a gorgeous, sweaty Saturday. It’s 83.1F/28.4C with 83% humidity right now, according to Weather Underground. We should get another handful of degrees yet. I’ll try not to melt into the pavement on my way to a shady spot under the tree where I plan to knit (Gryffindor socks for Sonar X7) or read (Five Quarters of the Orange by Joanne Harris) while the Sonars build a fort under the yard table and throw things out of the tree at each other.

What are you up to?