Category: Ruthie

Because I’m too distracted to write about anything else.

The other night Ruthie counted all the way up to 26, at which point she got caught in a vicious circle of never entering the 30’s. It went something like this: 24, 25, 26, 21, 24, 25, 26, 24, 25, 22, 23, 24, 21… and so on. It was hilarious, because she never seemed to realize she was stuck like a broken record.

Also, a couple weeks ago I took the kids to see Meet the Robinsons – part of the distraction of Bryan being gone for so long. Let me just openly remind movie theater managers that most G-rated movie-goers do NOT have the attention span to sit through previews. At the beginning of each one, Ruthie would shout out if this was the movie, only she kept getting the name wrong. It evolved…

IS THIS MEET THE ROBINS?

IS THIS MEET THE ROBINSES?

IS THIS MEET THE ROBIN?

IS THIS MEET THE ROBINHOOD? (my personal favorite).

There is one scene in the movie in which a scary dinosaur is trying to get the kid. Ruthie was terrified and jumped into my lap until this scene was over.

But Thomas? That was the ONLY part of the movie he paid attention to! He jumped up and down and growled back at the screen and pointed his ‘gun’ finger in retaliation.

It was awesome.

Things That Re-direct my parenting style…

Ruthie: MOM! We’re playing hide and seek, but Thomas won’t stop counting!

Me: Did you ask him to stop?

Ruthie then turns to Thomas and begins screaming at him to stop (mind you, we are in the car).

Me: But you need to ask him without screaming at him. That’s not okay.

Ruthie (in a horrifically matter-of-fact tone): But mom, I have to scream at him because he’s not stopping.

At which point I smirk quietly to myself as Bryan throws his head back in that deep, bellowing, from-the-gut laugh that I love (but only when it’s not at my expense), and he says, “You are SO BUSTED!”

God bless Ruthie for being the mirror God uses to show me my own parenting flaws.

My Little Extrovert

Last night and today we had house guests visiting who have four children – the same friends we recently visited in Ellensburg. Ruthie and Thomas spent all evening last night and all day today running around and playing. Occasionally Thomas would have a melt down and come crying into my lap with his blanket, then after a good snuggle he’d be off again.

Ruthie, on the other hand, thrived in her element as an extrovert and was never seen or heard from. She was engaged all. day. long. with these other kids – playing house, playing birthday party, playing doctor, swinging, climbing trees – and she hardly spoke a word to me. I think she asked me for some juice at one point, but other than that she didn’t really care about me. She never tired of the activity, and I couldn’t bear to take her out of the mix for a nap – so on she went, all day long.

Late in the afternoon as the visiting family said goodbye and crossed the street to their car, Ruthie shouted to me from the swings, “Mama! Will you come and play with me?”

They had barely left the yard and she was already craving the stimulation!

The Male/Female Communication Gap

building towers with blocksFor Thomas’ birthday we bought him large plastic blocks – and I mean LARGE as in several inches across and deep so I don’t have to step on or find little blocks all. over. my house.

Last night Ruthie and Thomas were stacking them high into a tower and giggling as they knocked the tower down. At one point Ruthie paused just before demolition to elaborately explain to me exactly what was about to happen. Perhaps she will one day administrate, manage, or lead people, because she was very organized about the whole thing.

Just as she was getting to the good part, with her hand fisted and finger pointing out for emphasis, saying, ‘…and then I’m going to count to three, and then I’m going to knock it over!’ Thomas became impatient, swooped in with his own finger pointing for emphasis and shouts, ‘…two….three….ahhhhhh!’ and knocks the tower over prematurely, completely stealing her thunder.

Learning from the Little Things

There are days when Ruthie teaches me many things. Like the days when she pretends to mother her purple teddy bear – feeding it, wrapping it in a blanket to sleep… and disciplining it. I often find her setting the bear in a nearby chair, cheerfully explaining to it the reasons for a time out, and when the whole thing is over she gives the bear hugs and kisses and moves on to the next thing.

I am in awe of this. And usually quite relieved.

I am in awe that, despite all my dysfunction, it is the healthy forms of correction that she imitates in her play. It is something I had always attributed to luck, relieved that she did not point an angry finger or spew swear words or speak harshly.

But the other day Ruthie taught me something else.

Bryan was out one night at a business dinner, so I was on my own with the kids at bedtime. I tend to rush the process, as by that time I’m emotionally spent and need to retreat into my introvertedness. Shortly after I came down to the kitchen, Ruthie peered through the door and asked me to do something. I was rude. She started crying. She asked for it again. I was rude again. She cried more and begged. And like a bratty twelve-year-old, I said “FINE!” and stomped upstairs to do what she had asked, and stomped back downstairs, saying something completely ridiculous like, “ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?”

Yeah. I did that.

After a few minutes I, of course, realized how ridiculous I had behaved, and how rude. Love is not rude. So I hung my head, and quietly went upstairs to apologize. When I snuggled onto her bed and came nose to nose with her, she popped her thumb out of her mouth and said sweetly, ‘Did you come to say you’re sorry?’

In that moment I knew luck had nothing to do with the way she interprets her mother. It is about grace.

I have often lamented over why God would give a control freak like me a daughter who is equally stubborn. It seemed to make better sense to give me someone more willing to comply with my shortcomings, who doesn’t do things that naturally draw out the ugliest parts of me. But it is becoming clearer to me how God is connecting me to my daughter through the connection of our personal journeys. She is teaching me as much as I am teaching her. She is part of my journey, and I am part of hers, and we are learning together. One without the other would leave nothing with which to challenge, and we would remain as we are – selfish and depraved.

As I am prompted by God to apologize to Ruthie, he is teaching me humbleness, and she is learning the process of reconciliation. She gets it. She is understanding, as seen in her pretend scenarios, the graceful way to correct. And she is understanding, as seen in her prediction of my apology, that mommy is not always graceful. She is understanding sin and redemption, even if she doesn’t know the language.

I find comfort in this, in knowing that I am not alone in this journey of motherhood because God is with me, in knowing that God takes even the broken parts of me and uses them to make something beautiful.

Happy Birthday to Ruthie

Yesterday was Ruthie’s 4th birthday so we threw a dinner party in her honor. We began talking about it several weeks ago when, with pen and paper in hand, I asked what she wanted for her party. It was funny how precise she was, and how reasonable. I had wondered what I would be getting myself into by asking her, thinking there would be much tears and drama if I could not provide ponies or bouncy machines or any other high expectations. As if she had been preparing for this conversation her whole life, she confidently rattled off the following:

“I want a cake with pink frosting and red strawberries, and red balloons and red streamers.”

First of all, there was no mention of Dora in her request, which made me want to check her birthmarks to see if she’d been body snatched. Second, what is with the introduction of red? My girl is a Pink Lady and wants nothing to do with anything that is not pink. I was really surprised by all this, but she stayed true to her requests for weeks, continually checking in with me to make sure I remembered the pink cake with red strawberries.

And what birthday celebration would be complete without a little mishap to end the night with? After many folks had cleared out and there were just two families left visiting with us, Ruthie came up from downstairs where we had a table set up with craft supplies for all the kids to create with. She had taken a scissors to her hair – a small chunk out of her bangs and most of her pig tail that was on top of her head.

Such is life. It happens to every kid, and I know it will grow back. I’m just glad she didn’t cut into some other poor kid’s hair!

(our flickr set is here).

Keeping Watch?

Keeping Watch?The other day we had too much going on for the kids to get a full nap, but I wanted them to at least get some quiet time.

Okay – it was ME who needed the quiet time.

When Ruthie has a difficult time staying in bed I give her a clock or a watch to keep with her, and I show her where the hands will point when it’s okay for her to come downstairs. When one o’clock came and went and Ruthie didn’t show up, I snuck up to her room and found her fast asleep, still guarding the clock.

The True Meaning of Valentine’s Day

I should have known what I was getting into. Friends had warned me. I saw the signs, but ignored them. Thinking I was a beautiful swan diver, I belly flopped dramatically. And painfully.

For the Valentine’s party in Ruthie’s preschool class on Tuesday we were told to bring valentines for each kid in class, so that’s what I did. Over the weekend we bought Go! Diego, Go! valentines, Ruthie helped me fold them, and she added the stickers, and together we remembered all the names of the kids in her class as I wrote them on the outside of each valentine. We had a lovely time doing a project together.

Only to realize that every other Super Mom in the class had either created homemade valentines or had attached a handful of candy in cute cellophane bags and tied with pretty ribbons. They were masterpieces of beauty.

But don’t you worry – I’ve got your numbers now, bitches. You’d better be prepared for the biggest f-ing chocolate bunny Easter has ever seen! Your kid will be high on sugar until the Fourth of July!

Valentine's Day Candy Thief

All was quiet in the living room yesterday as Bryan, Ruthie, and I finished eating lunch. Suddenly realizing I heard nothing from The Boy, I asked Bryan to peak around the corner to see what he was up to.

Bryan choked on his soda and subtly motioned for me to come see – without alerting Ruthie. He had busted into Ruthie’s stash of candy from her party at school, and had successfully eaten all the chocolate from one package before we realized what had happened. Fortunately Ruthie had not taken inventory of her loot, so we were able to clean up the mess before she even knew what happened, averting World War III.

Valentine's Day candy breach

Ruthie has recently attended three birthday parties in addition to the Valentine’s Day party at school – all which provided her with copious amounts of candy. In order to control how much and when she ate said candy, I stashed her stash in a basket on top of our very tall refrigerator.

As you can see, The Girl is resourceful.