"this one's for the children"

So lately, life in the Eber household has been a litte strenuous!  We're working really hard to help Sam adjust to his counselor and work through his emotional meltdowns and Kurtis and I are feeling the strain.  I think Kurtis is struggling with this problem that he can't fix.  Men are "problem solvers" and having a problem that he can't just "solve" is difficult for him.  My struggle comes from the fact that Sam is alot like me.  Most of these issues: the being over sensitive, being a perfectionist, worrying, and caring so much about doing well all are traits that I possess too.  I was blaming myself b/c "he gets these traits from me so it must be my fault".  But in a conversation with a good friend of mine and also the Bishop of our church, Jeremy said that these common traits that Sam and I share were traits of our spirits before we came to earth.  In our faith, we believe we had a premortal existence...one that included our personalities before we received our earthly bodies.  So Sam and I were "kindred spirits" sharing similar personalities.  Maybe my Heavenly Father sent Sam to me so that I could use our similar traits to help him through his struggles.  Instead of being the cause of his strong personality, I'm meant to be a help through his struggles.  I've been entrusted to help him when he doesn't know how to work through his emotions.  Some people would say "well duh!"  But for me this came as a profound insight!  Something that I hadn't even considered.  I just assumed all his faults and struggles as my own and felt not only as a failure myself but as failing my son as well.  What a deep effect this has on me....to realize that even though I'm not sure how I'm meant to help him through this, I CAN help him through this and I WILL help him through this.  And maybe we'll have a stronger connection as mother and son because of it.
With that being said, I always talk about how strong-willed Isabel is but the other day I had a brief moment of pure gratitude toward my little girl.  Isabel is only six years old; she is the only girl in a house full of brothers; she is a girl who knows her worth.  Kurtis had been at work all day, had taken Sam to an evening dr appt and then went to scouts with Sam.  I had hurried everyone through homework and dinner and was sitting next Zeke while he took FOREVER to eat his dinner.  I desperately wanted a few minutes to myself and to be honest, I needed to use the bathroom.  I asked Izzy to sit next to Zeke's highchair and just help him eat and watch that he didn't choke as he ate.  She stopped in the middle of her coloring, came and sat with her baby brother and made him smile while I hid in the bathroom for just two or three minutes of solitude.  It made me think back to when Zeke was first born and Kurtis and Sam would rush off to work and school.  Isabel would often get up with Daddy and feed Zeke a bottle while Daddy got ready for work.  Then Kurtis would put Zeke back in his crib and Izzy would watch TV, all while I got to sleep in an extra 30 or so minutes.  What a beloved little girl to let Mommy sleep a little bit extra while she, 6 years old and kindergartener, would feed her little brother!  I'm so grateful to Isabel for being such a sweet girl who "mothers" her brothers and helps me when I'm overwhelmed.
I truly have just wonderful little people in my home and my biggest hope and desire is that they grow up knowing how much I love them, how much I treasure being their mother, and no matter who they become, I will always consider them my best successes!

Beginning of the school year is always the hardest

I was looking back at my blog this time last year and I read where I was struggling with the kids at the beginning of the year.  Sam and Isabel each had their struggles to the beginning of 2nd grade and kindergarten.  As I sit here now and think about the beginning of 3rd and 1st grades, I see new struggles for my kids.  New difficulties, new challenges, new obstacles that I need to help them face and new challenges for me as I sometimes have to let them struggle on their own.
Isabel has started this year off with pretty good moments.  She seems to have gotten a handle on this potty thing and is doing well with taking breaks and braving the scary toilets.  However, she is now starting to exert her more dominate self by refusing to participate in class, dragging out working in her journal and surprisingly, she is not enthusiastic about reading.  I guess it's strange to me b/c I love to read and Sam seems to have developed a love for reading too.  But for Isabel, reading is not easy and therefore she gets tired of it.  I have to try to invent fun and new ways to help her through it.
Samuel struggles are far more prominent as of late.  A few weeks ago, I received a phone call from Sam's teacher telling us that Samuel was having meltdowns, throwing tantrums and becoming disruptive.  She asked that we taken him to the pediatrician to see if there is anything that can help him.  I immediately feared that he would need medication.  Now, I have no problem with diagnosing and medicating a child if they are struggling with a behavioral disorder, however I'm not sure that Sam is in need of such measures.  I was very relieved when we met with the pediatrician and she didn't even suggest medication.  She said that what Sam is going through is somewhat normal and he just needs some help until he can mature a bit.  So Sam has begun seeing a counselor. He's only had one visit so far but he is excited to get some help and to have someone to talk to, someone who listens to him and can help him deal with things.  In addition to this, Sam finally opened up to his dad and told him about some bullying that was happening at school. 
                          I'm a little tough when it comes to bully issues b/c I think sometimes getting teased or taunted helps toughen our kids 
                          up for the real world.  I know I could open a whole can of worms with people who would not appreciate my opinion. 
                          I was bullied a bit as a kid and it hurt and it sucked and I hated aspects of my childhood b/c of it.  But it toughened me
                          up, it prepared me for life, for adulthood where life isn't fair, the good guys don't always win, and sometimes things
                          just downright stink!  Now I digress, back to Sam.....
So we called the school and spoke to the teachers.  Since then, this child has been moved away from Sam and Sam said that they hardly speak to each other.  Suddenly, Sam was doing much better!  Hooray for that...plus his grades are s.l.o.w.l.y. improving....emphasis on slow but I can see a light at the end of the tunnel.  With that being said, I get frustrated with his teachers for sending me emails like today emphasizing that for the first time in two weeks (since we started getting him help) he had a meltdown.  Now, I realize that this is a blessing.  The teacher wants to keep me informed.  She wants me to be aware of how often his tantrums occur.  I get all that.  I realize that she is doing her job and trying to help. But the mom in me is frustrated!  Please teacher, look at my son!  Look at how he has improved!  Look at how hard he is trying!  Look at how he is a young boy who is trying desperately to keep up with all these demands that are now put upon him!  Now, in her defense, she may actually be looking at these things and I just don't know it.  I'll be honest, I have no reason to doubt these teachers aren't doing the best they can with Sam.  But boy, does it wear on me that I cannot go to his school, scoop him up into my lap and help on his spelling test.  I cannot take him in my arms when he's frustrated and crying and do the work for him.  I cannot step into the classroom and act as a mediator between my child and his teachers.  He has to work through the tough stuff!!  This is the hard parenting part!  This is the moment when you look at your child and say I love you and I'm giving you a chance to work through the tough stuff so you can be an incredible man one day!  It is so much harder to force your child to work through trials than going through trials on your own.  Oh how I pray on a daily basis to be compassionate towards the teachers, Sam, and myself.  This is not fun, it is not easy, and it is a constant worry on me.
I wonder if others go through this and don't ever express it.  Maybe people see my smile and assume that everything and everyday is happy, go-lucky.  Do others go through the same thing?  Do others smile when really they need a hug or gentle word?  I need to be more aware.  As for me, I could use a hug every single day.

Mini-Me

When Isabel had her kindergarten picture taken last year, I noticed that it looked alot like my kindergarten picture.  So I did a side-by-side comparison.  Then when we got a picture of Kalen earlier this week, I noticed a similarity to a picture of Kurtis when he was little.  So I'm posting them so we can enjoy the comparisons in the years to come.

a few notes for the posterity

Yesterday Zeke took two steps for the first time.  He was walking to me from the couch.  He is very good at holding on to something and walking but this was the "first step" without assistance.

While cleaning up toys today, I asked Kalen: "where is Boulder?  I want to put him away with the other Transformers?"
Kalen : "I don't know; he's out looking for Megatron!"
I suppose I just leave him to his mission then.

update on funny things kids say

while playing Mario Bros today, this is the conversation:
Me: Kal, let's not play this level. it's too hard
Kal: I got a great idea?
Me: okay, what?
Kal: Let's not die!

while watching his sister in her ballet and tap dance classes, Kalen tells me "That was awesome!!!"  I thought he'd be bored but I guess not!

a chance to teach again

My last year of teaching music in the public school setting was 2003-2004. Long story short, the principal and I had a difference of opinion and I was told constantly throughout that year how I was a terrible teacher, I had no business teaching kids and I "lacked enthusiasm" as a classroom teacher. Kurtis and I had just married and were hoping to have kids so I went ahead and quit teaching, thinking this was the Lord's way of giving me an easy out. But over the years, I have thought alot about what she said. I felt that I was a horrible teacher, that I could never go back to teaching, that I had failed in the life calling. I've even had recurrent nightmares that I couldn't get a teaching job. Last Jan, I was asked to teach music to the children at church. I've been doing it since. I was so worried (am still worried) that I wouldn't be good at it, that I would damage the kids somehow by teaching it incorrectly. This month I've been asked to teach a class for other music teachers from different congregations in our area. I'm to give a 45 minute lesson on techniques to help the kids learn. What a humbling and overwhelming gift I've been given! A chance to redeem myself and maybe see that teaching is a calling that I don't have to give up!

The gift of gab

I am a talker.  I've been one most of my life. My mom likes to say that I was over 2 years old when I finally started talking and they haven't shut me up since!  I just talk a lot.  I can be quiet and I do have moments where I enjoy the silence but for the most part, I find quiet and silence awkward.  So often, when in crowds, I'll talk...to anyone...anyone sitting next to me, standing in front of me in the checkout line, someone walking down the sidewalk next to me.  I'll talk to anyone just to simply have a good conversation.  But here is why it is on my mind lately...
I've had a few people tell me how I talk so much.  It bothers them or they question why I can talk about anything to anyone.  And here is why I think that is.
First, I talk through situations and trials.  Not because talking about the problem solves the problem but simply b/c talking about the problem makes me feel better.  I feel better when I'm going through something to tell people about what I'm going through.  I'm not a "suffer in silence" type of girl.  Some people are and that's okay.  In fact, I have a few close friends that can go through SERIOUS trials in their lives and not tell a soul.  They might even consider me a dear friend but they aren't going to tell me that they have cancer until I pry it out of them (true story).  That's their perogative and I'm okay with that.  But for me,  I like to talk it out.  Lay out all my cards on the table.  If you ask me how I am, I'm going to tell you honestly--whether I'm good, bad, or ugly, I'll tell you.  And I think that's okay too.  It's what works for me.
Second, I find almost always that when I talk through something especially a trial or hardship, someone else appreciates hearing it.  So many times people will tell me "I'm glad you said something" or "I'm going through the same thing and haven't talked about it" or "I needed to hear that".  Misery does indeed love company.  Sometimes when you're crying and life sucks, it's so nice to have someone to commiserate with.  I know that sounds silly or wrong but it's true.  Sometimes when someone else's day stinks just as bad as my day stinks, I feel not quite so alone!  It's just true. So I like thinking that by talking things out, I'm helping or affecting other people.  My talking can be a gift.  It can help other people feel less inhibited in talking through things.
Lastly, this is who I am.  In the scriptures, there is a passage talking about the "tongue of angels", "the language of angels", and describing such as a gift.  I'm not saying I'm an angel.  Nor will I say that my incessant speech is any way a divine attribute.  But I do like to think that sometimes I'm inspired to talk to someone that needed to hear something.  Or maybe they just needed someone to talk to them, to acknowledge them...sometimes a stranger smiling at me and saying hello in WalMart makes my day!  Wouldn't it be amazing if you just made the checkout lady's day simply by saying "hello, how's your day going?  Is it busy today or are you getting a little break?" 
I'm not saying that all speech that comes out of my mouth is good.  And I know there are people out there that would prefer I keep my opinion to myself.  But this is on my mind today.  Yes, I talk alot.  Yes, most of my talk is fluff.  And frequently, most of my speech is grumpy and complaining.  But I think that there are people out there who need to talk.  They need to be heard.  One of my greatest fears in life is that I will leave this world and not be missed.  Truly!  I'm so scared that I will die and no one will come to my funeral.  So, if you're around when I die, come to my funeral, share stories of how I would never shut up and sometimes you wanted to slap me silly but remember that there were times when you needed to hear what I had to say.  If that happens, I think I'll probably be pretty satisfied that I had a good gift of gab.