Sugar and Snails

The differences between boys and girls is interesting.

I realize that environment plays a role in how children behave but I also believe that some things are innate. Boys are wired differently than girls. Snakes and snails ... Sugar and Spice ... The mixtures of simple and preferred pleasures both genders bring into their environment. It is a genetic code of possibilities.

Today I chatted with Callie and Donovan's teacher, the famous Mrs. Oh. (Yes, that really is her name.) How they love her. Mrs. Oh is the beginning of a constant phrase in our house, as in ... "Mrs. Oh said" or "Mrs. Oh did". She is as popular as the also much beloved, Mrs. Laura. Forever will they have a piece of my children's hearts.

Mrs. Oh said a lot of things. Some were insightful and most were apparent to me ... their ragamuffin mother. (Next to Mrs. Oh and Mrs. Laura, Mom is just "Oh, mom")

"Donovan is very high on censorial, problem solving, and mathematics concepts. Fixing puzzles and building with anything is something he consistently gravitates towards. He takes pride in his work and likes to show it off to the grown-ups."

I nod and smile. You see, I may just be "Oh, mom" but I really adore hearing teachers sing my son's praises. For as long as I've known him I've thought him pretty spectacular. Hearing someone else say it echoes my thoughts exactly.

"Callie always has a smile. Such a cute girl. Independent, high on language skills, loves living skills too. Pretending to cook and mother is something she really enjoys."

All lovely things I've known. When Callie was crawling she'd follow me around with a tissue and try to clean the floor. Seriously! Making up songs and sharing schoolhouse gossip is also routine. I am so delighted at the precious person she is constantly becoming .... I see a little of me, a dab of my husband, and a whole lot of Callie mixed up in her expressive face and inquisitive brown eyes.

"Boys are usually better at spatial, censorial, and mathematical concepts. Especially at this age. While girls are often high scorers in language and living skills. I would say they are doing academically what we see across the board."

Maybe so. I know personally I could talk or write for days and never grow bored. Brett on the other hand loves to apply restrictive mathematical concepts to daily routine. It seems like Callie and Donovan are shadowing their parents ... be it genetically, environmentally, or a mixture of both. Either way I think all of my children are incredibly interesting individuals.

Whenever I think about my 25 week babies first days, I am in awe of the industrious children they have become. Imagine babies born barely a pound who are are getting academic applause from their teachers. This is a new thing. Before now their academic future was talked about with gloomy words. Today everyone is thinking about the possiblities.

A Gaggle of Giggles

Benjamin is proud of being funny. At school he is known for his silly antics. He delights in reflected smiles and shared jokes.

Knock-knock jokes, body noises, slimy worms, and finger paint are all funny. Seriously. Each category has enormous potential for contagious giggling amongst my kids.

Benjamin is combustible. People expect him to be entertaining. He's known for it. Each day he's done at at least one thing that caused explosive laughter.

If you are the analytical type you can track his laugh appeal on a calendar. He's been with us for four years and I swear a day has not passed when he failed to make someone laugh. Everywhere he goes he brings his nature and it is natural for him to smile.

Belly laughing is his favorite thing. It brings me such joy to hear him ask Brett for tickles. When tickles are given he sounds off uncontrollable laughter. Seeing him enjoy a moment with daddy so completely is a wonder to behold.

Most of us only aspire to live so completely in a moment. Benjamin does this in a care free way several times each day. An opportunity to express himself is never passed by. He is who he is and people love him for it.

He may be the class "Class Clown" but so be it. Laughter is a moment he seizes and it makes the world a more comforting place for others. His silliness is a gift. One day I hope he knows it.

Carousel

Callie chooses a tiger to ride. “Look at me, I’m on the carousal!”

She waves one hand and bobs her pigtails. “Hey, boys! What are you riding?”

Donovan and Benjamin are chatting with heads close together. They sit on a peacock bench next to Brett. Donovan peeks over at Callie but offers no response.

“Hey, boys? Look at me!” She waves both hands in the air and bounces on her tiger.

I remind her with a wink. “Callie, you have to sit still with both hands on the pole.”

“You stand there. Take your hands off my pole. Please. I want to ride by myself.” Callie plucks my fingers from her waist.

Doubtfully I look at her tiny frame on the giant tiger. “What if you fall?”

“I won’t fall.”

“But what if you do?”

“I won’t.”

“Okay.” I slowly let go.

The music turns on and the announcer says, “Welcome to the Endangered Species Carousel. Stay on your ride at all times. Do not switch animals. Hold onto the pole. When the bell rings twice this means the ride is starting. Enjoy.”

Brring. Brrring.

The carousel begins turning to the Banana Boat (Day Oh) Song.

Come Mr. Tallyman, tally me bananas!
Daylight come and I want to go home.

Smiling, Callie waves to strangers who wave to their children. “This is great! Got my zebra, Mom?”

I look down at her toy zebra. She’ll soon forget about it. Another cheap piece of plastic to bring home. “Yes, silly monkey. I have your zebra.”

“Silly monkey? I’m not a silly monkey.”

“You’re not? Are you a silly goose?”

Giggling she bounces around while still holding onto the pole. “You bet I’m a silly goose.”

“Okay silly goose … the ride is slowing down. Wait for both bells before jumping into my arms.”

“Jumping like a silly rabbit.”

I laugh. “More likely tackling me like a silly Callie.”

“Yeah.”

Brring. Brrring.

The next time they rode the carousel .... everyone rode their own animal.

An Apple a Day

Grocery shopping on Sunday I pass through produce. An assortment of crisp apples cause me pause. Their strong smell fills my senses with nostalgia.

I remember being four years old and playing beneath apple trees in Montana. Beautiful blossoms prettily covered limbs in spring. Summer produced perfectly round apples.

In the basement there was an apple cellar. I loved hearing the creaky door hinges open to reveal this secret room. Previous owners used its shelves to store crates of apples. My parents used it to preserve our outgrown toys.

Inside the air was stale with the overpowering smell of apples. The smell marked their lifespan. Green apples, ready to eat apples, maturing apples, mushy apples, and rotten apples.

At the grocery store I stood in front of the assorted apples and followed my nose to an overflowing crate. Closing my eyes I picked up just one and heavily breathed in its scent. A picture of me, very small, with an apple appliqué on my blue overalls flashed behind my eyes. Another snapshot of my dolls Peanut Butter and Jelly was recaptured. A flickering image of my brother and me playing the game Button- Button with mom was remembered.

Still, there was a stronger feeling; an overwhelmingly perfect feeling that came from the scent of an apple. I remembered how safe and loved I felt as a little girl, an eldest child, inside my family. My identical twin sisters were not yet born but I understood there was plenty of room for all of us.

Apples remind me of my family and of being a small child. At age four I saved these crisp memories inside an apple. Not just any apple, but apples that smell like that special scent I savored as a child.

I bundled a half dozen of these round memory triggers into a plastic bag. Once home I placed the bag onto the counter and bent down to Benjamin’s level.

“What do you smell?” I place an apple beneath his nose.

Smiling he presses it closer, “A good apple.”

Ruffling his hair I slice the apple and place them in a bowl. “Here you go.”

He runs off with his snack and I watch him with wonder. What smells will he associate with being young? Will he remember antiseptic hospital smells with fear or will a safe, happy smell prevail?

Biting into an apple piece I am hopeful that he’ll always remember the smell of apples and not the smell of fear or grief. Hopefully he is locking happy memories into places he’ll one day happen across …. Like in a grocery store. He’ll unlock memories that will bring him comfort and peace.

More? Yes, More!

Life is constantly moving forward.

The last decade has been filled with an incredible lot. When I think about it ... I get a little overwhelmed. How do you achieve more the next ten years? The thought leaves me breathless.

During the last ten years I graduated from college, married, delivered quadruplets, again graduated from college, lived in three states(Louisiana, Texas, and Oklahoma) moved six times, and held numerous jobs (often a few jobs at once).

While I am not terribly political I frequently volunteer for different agencies focused on issues I care about. March of Dimes certainly tops my list of most beloved nonprofits. Locally and nationally I volunteered for them .... and now I am a March of Dimes employee.

Participating in SHARE, a March of Dimes online community for current and graduated NICU families, opened my eyes to the incredible work March of Dimes does to save babies.

I had no idea that this organization was started by President FD Roosevelt during the days of Polio. They funded research that lead to the Salk vaccine ... the polio immunization.

The first two days of life *every* baby in the United States benefits from the fruits of research funded by March of Dimes, including APGAR. Working in the NICU, I know that steroids and surfactant (both discovered due to research funded by March of Dimes) helps premature lungs work better. When I visit moms on bed rest I know that the March of Dimes folic acid campaign has prevented many alarming birth defects like spina bifida.

My enthusiasm was contagious. Brett and our three surviving children volunteered with us. Family and friends across the nation helped us fundraise. Benjamin, Callie, and Donovan stood on a Texarkana stage during Walk America as local March of Dimes Ambassadors. Our story has been shared with media locally and nationwide. Public awareness and fundraising for the mission has been something we did gratefully on behalf of what the March of Dimes gave us.

For nearly one year I've worked as a March of Dimes NICU Family Support Specialist at an Oklahoma hospital. Each day I support families on bed rest or in the NICU by holding hands, listening to stories, assisting with bedside bonding, offering activities, and organizing/speaking at parent discussion hours. Everything I do at the hospital is focused on family.

In October I will spend three days in Washington, DC. There I will assist staff at two conferences and speak about my job with SHARE volunteers from across the nation. There is something very precious about speaking to volunteers (once my peers) as a March of Dimes staff person. It is as exciting as it is bittersweet because it represents another transition in my life. Another time of changing and rediscovering. A growing place.

A lot has happened in just ten years. This is undeniable. Eagerly I await the next ten years. How will I top the last ten? I have a feeling that there is more to come ... as long as we are alive there is always more to come.

I look forward to it.

"Look well to this day. Yesterday is but a dream and tomorrow is only a vision. But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness and every tomorrow a vision of hope." - Francis Gray

We All Want Ice Cream

The ice cream man stalks our house. Buy once from him and he’ll never leave you alone. His truck is probably owned by the mafia.

My children dream of rich chocolate melting on sugar cones whenever they spot him across the street. He cranks up “All Around the Mulberry Bush” whenever he passes our house. Some days he drives by five times.

Whether we are inside or outside it does not matter. He’s done a headcount and knows we have three small children. Because my children know his signal he thinks we are trapped. Make my children cry he thinks … Mom will pay to make them stop.

Where does the madness end? I pay today and six days after … will that be enough? I peek out the blinds waiting him out. My children are crying.

Ben’s bottom lip is quivering.

Donovan tells me, “Your making my eyes water.”

Callie throws herself to the floor and sobs.

Stricken I peek out again. His car is on idle. What’s that? He’s eating an ice cream cone!

“Let’s go!” I hustle the kids into the car. We forget about shoes. I am making a point.

Sobbing, the kids ask, “Are we getting ice cream?”

I smile in the rearview, “Yes!”

We pass the ice cream truck. All three of my children begin to wail. “We want ice cream.”

“And ice cream we’ll get.”

I pull into the Braum’s drive through a mile from our house. “Three strawberry shakes, please.”

With order in hand we head back to the house.

Incredibly the ice cream truck is still across the street. The driver waves at me. I smile and wave back.

“Out of the car kids.” I unlock doors and pull out kids. Once assembled outside I hand each one a shake. “Now drink up.”

From the corner of my eye I see the ice cream truck pull away.

Victory is sweet!

Because there were strawberries in their shakes they also got a serving of fruit.

That is even sweeter!

"Horse Day"

Benjamin calls himself a horse rider, a cowboy, and a little cowpoke. Choosing names is fun but cannot truly capture the wonder of seeing my tiny boy riding on top of a giant horse.

These gentle horses are used in Hippa Therapy at Coffeeville Stables. Benjamin look forward to going once a month on Tuesday. Volunteers encourage him to work on fine and gross motor skills while building his self confidence.

Today is "Horse Day" ... the first time he'll go this school year.

My happy guy runs full speed into my bedroom. He harpoons himself onto my bed. Groaning I glance at the clock. It is six. Morning really *does* come too quickly.

"Momma! I ride horses today. Let's go! I need my cowboy boots and my horse riding shirt."

Brett yawns and we both get up. Yesterday was Labor Day today is a work day. Still, we cannot help grinning when we see Ben's bright face.

"Good Morning, Sunshine" We follow him to his bedroom.

Ben is practically skipping. "I get to ride the bus!"

Donovan and Callie,who are not nearly as excited that Ben gets to ride horses and the bus, sigh while sitting quietly on the floor.

Riding the yellow bus is also very special. "Horse Day" is Ben's one chance each month to ride. This morning the bus driver will pick Ben, his classmate, and teacher up at school, take them to Coffeville Stables, and then safely return them to school this afternoon. I'll be waiting for their scheduled arrival.

Riding the bus or a horse is easy for Ben. He shows no fear.

My parenting mantra has always been,

"You can do it but first you have to try."

There will be many "Horse Days" I'll meet Ben at the stables and cheer from the sidelines. That is a perk of being a parent. Little else feels as wonderful as seeing your child succeed.

Ticking Time

Today is September 1st. I always feel a little sad around Labor Day when I am reminded that summer's days are numbered and fall is coming fast.

Our children's fourth summer was filled with tiny adventures. We took them to a hands-on children's museum in Enid, ate at the Rain forest Cafe in Grapevine, explored caves in the Arbuckles, and hugged miniature ponies on their birthday.

Our zoo pass was used often on dewy Saturday mornings. On really hot afternoons we sat in cool theaters and watched "Evan Almighty" and "Ratatouille".

Occasionally we'd picnic in the park or grill burgers in our yard.

Frequently the kiddie pool was filled and the kids dived in, splashing anyone hoping to stay dry.

With fall comes many more Middleton adventures. Benjamin will begin riding horses again next week. Callie and Donovan are in a music and rhythm movement class. All three are learning new things in Pre-Kindergarten.

Sometimes it is hard to process how fast they are growing up and how quickly our family is changing.

The other day I chatted with new parents of triplets in our NICU. When they discovered I was the mother of three surviving quadruplets they overwhelmed me with questions:
how did you...
when was it....
where can we .....

Patiently I answered them the best I could.

Which brings me back to this being the first day of September.

Not very long ago my babies were bundled in cribs. Our lives were challenging and exhausting. It sometimes seemed like we'd never get through it. There were days I would have swore it.

As hard as it was taking care of three medically fragile children who were projectile vomiting, in and our of hospitals, constantly visiting medical specialists or developmental specialists ...and it was hard ...I know there are parts of the experience I missed because I was sad, angry, or exhausted.

I understand being overwhelmed by intensive care units and lots of crying babies.

However, I wish I could go back - knowing the future would turn out okay - and enjoy my babies while they were still so tiny.

Looking back at summer's explorations, I feel like we do enjoy our babies now. Excuse me, our Pre-K kids. Our ever growing bigger kids. We do enjoy them now. Everyday.

"We don't receive wisdom; we must discover it for ourselves after a journey that no one can take from us or spare us from." - Marcel Proust