My Real Life

Yesterday was the last day of Spring Break, and the monkeys and I met my Dad for lunch at a local diner.

We passed my Dad in the parking lot while we were looking for a spot, and the monkeys hopped out to walk in with him while I continued to search.

When we got inside, my Dad immediately asked why I let Monkey in the Middle out of the house without a coat on, as it was only 54 degrees.

My response was “I tried to tell him, Dad, but sometimes, you gotta learn the hard way.”

As a teacher, I know that when trying to teach someone something, telling is hardly ever successful.

Showing is moderately more effective.

Yet, let someone try it out for themselves and they own it.

Same goes with life lessons.

Let’s be clear…I’m not talking about things like taking drugs, trying to outrun a train, or touching a hot stove.

I’m talking about the every day lessons that kids are learning each and every day.

So, if it’s not a “high risk” lesson to learn, I’ll give them my opinion, but let them learn on their own.

Using this approach my kids have learned:

hairspray is not a good de-tangler

peanut butter and hard-boiled eggs are not a good combination

mud pies are not delicious

spinning in circles directly after dinner will cause you to vomit

…and yes…when you’ve had a winter like we have, it’s too cold not to wear your coat while walking through town on a 54 degree day.

1. How often should adults have birthday parties?

As long as they don’t expect presents, I don’t care how often adults want to have birthday parties.

I think people like an excuse to come together and celebrate, what better reason than a birthday.

I, personally, would feel funny about throwing myself a birthday party, as an adult, but I know people who do it every year.

Real Man and I get together for dinner with our parents on our birthdays, because our parents want to celebrate with us.

We also take our parents out on their birthdays, to thank them for everything they’ve done for us.

But, that’s about the extent of our adult birthday celebrating.

2. What was your room decorated like when you were a child?

My walls were covered in flowered, textured, vinyl wallpaper.

My walls were also covered in posters out of Tiger Beat, Teen Beat, and a million other teeny-bopper magazines.

Big poster of Bon Jovi on my closet, Dolph Lundgren on the wall above my bed, and a ton of smaller ones of Kirk Cameron, Scott Baio, John Stamos, Judd Nelson, Matt Dillon, Rob Lowe, Corey Haim, RIcky Shroeder, and Joey Lawrence.

After that, there were twin beds, a dresser, a stereo, a bookcase, a desk and piles of books.

My house was built in the early 1900’s and there were a lot of nooks and crannies throughout the structure, and my room was no exception.

I had a walk-in closet that had a small door off of it that let to a smaller attic/closet space.

The hours I spent imagining and dreaming about that extra space were never-ending.

3. Do you have any traditions for Easter? If so, what? and do you have a why behind that?

The magic bunny.

When I was three, someone at my church presented my parents with a small, hand-carved wooden bunny.

My parents brought him home, and put him out.

Mysteriously, starting on Palm Sunday, that bunny started moving.

Every morning when I would come downstairs, the bunny would be in a different place in the house and I would have to find him.

(My family was years ahead of the Elf on the Shelf)

The bunny wasn’t spying on me to report back to the Easter Bunny.

He was just moving around and playing a fun game with me.

Lo and behold, when Monkey Girl was three, the magic bunny showed up at our house!

He showed up one Palm Sunday and started his game of hide-and-seek with her.

On Easter morning, he winds up sitting with the Easter baskets and by the end of the day, when none of us are even paying attention, he disappears, not to be seen until the next year.

4. Do you get Good Friday off? If so, any plans?

I do, because our Spring Break is always during Holy Week.

Our plans are to play outside, play some Clue, maybe meet my parents for lunch, watch some Dr. Who, and definitely do some “Just Dance.”

5. Did you wear hats & white shoes to church on Easter? (Or was that just in the South?)

Oh, you bet I did.

Every year, I had a new dress with a new hat and patent leather white Mary Janes.

The only thing that would have been better is if my Mom had let me wear red patent leather Mary Janes.

In fact, I think I’m still in the market for a cute pair of those.

I’m a teacher, and as such, I use a lot of things I’ve learned in my classroom in my parenting and I use a lot of things I’ve learned through parenting in my classroom.

This past week, the phrase, “Don’t compare them,” keeps popping into my head.

I have been in the same district for 9 years and have taught many siblings of students that I taught before.

It can be deceptive, because you may feel like you already know the child because you taught their older brother or sister, but you don’t.

Because every child is different.

Even the many, many pairs of identical twins I have taught.

Different.

So many times, I’ve sat in parent conferences where the parent has said, “I just don’t understand.  My older daughter wasn’t like this at all!”

Or, the worst, “I always say ‘Why don’t you act more like your brother?'”

And I get it.

It’s hard not to do.

After all, these kids came from the same parents as the other kids did.

Shouldn’t they behave similarly?

The flip side is that I’ve had teachers say to me, “Oh, he’s no Monkey Girl,” or “Such a shame he isn’t more like Monkey in the Middle.”

Really?

Because I think it’s awesome that my four children are so completely different.

They excel at different things and that’s okay.

Monkey Girl has always been all about school, and Baby Monkey could care less.

But Baby Monkey loves to create and build things, while Monkey Girl doesn’t even give those things a second look.

Monkey in the Middle is a star athlete, while his siblings would rather have their fingernails pulled out with pliers than do anything athletic.

We went to Walmart the other day for Monkey Girl to buy something she’s been saving for.

While there, I asked the boys if they wanted me to pick up some shirts for school, as they are responsible for getting themselves dressed and ready for school and…they just keep growing.

They said yes.

Here is what Monkey in the Middle chose:

Here is what Baby Monkey chose (and yes, he will wear these to school, as he chooses to wear stuff like this to school every day):

Better?

Worse?

None of the above.

Just different.

So, I continue to strive hard to quiet the voice in my head that says “Ugh…his sister never behaves like that,” or “Homework was never an issue for his brother,” and remind myself that their differences are what make them special and what make them mine.

I continue to counsel parents to do the same and celebrate the unique gifts that each of their children bring to the table.

Comparison does nothing but breed resentment and that’s something that doesn’t get anyone anywhere.

A few months ago, Real Man bought a new computer.

This means, that he promised the monkeys he would bring down the computer he was currently using and swap it out for the dinosaur they use in the basement.

Yesterday, he finally got around to making the switch, but before disconnecting, he backed up the info on the old computer.

Then, he started going through it.

As he looked at old PowerPoints, word documents, and various other things that the monkeys had created and saved, he came across this gem from Monkey Girl.

Before reading, let me give you some background.

Many, many moons ago, I used to knit.

I was given a bunch of yarn from a friend, but much of it was wool, to which I am highly allergic.

So, I gave the wool yarn away on Freecycle.

If you haven’t tried Freecycle for your area, you really, really should.

Anyway, the woman who took the yarn was named Bonnie Norkin, and a few days after she picked up the yarn, she called me and left a very, very sweet message.

She had a midwestern accent that reminded me of my Grandma, and we played that message over and over and over.

And so, in a completely ridiculous private joke, our family often pulls out the name “Bonnie Norkin.”

Not to make fun of her, mind you…just to remember.

So, here is Monkey Girl’s story, written when she was 10.

There’s nothing like 10 year-old humor.

 Fanny Norkin and Her Yarn

I dedicate this little story to my 3 wonderful little brothers, who know when I need some cheering up.

 This woman is Fanny.  Her whole name is Fanny Norkin

Fanny had a wonderful family.  Her husband Norbert worked as a manager of a successful business.  He is the wonderful man in the background.

 Her daughter was 10 and named Whilamina.  Whilamina was very thoughtful, but could be very clumsy.  She goes to school and learns a lot.

Her oldest son, Bob, was very serious but loved to play sports.  He liked football best.  He didn’t enjoy homework.

 They also had a boy named Richard.  Richard liked art and superheroes.  He could name mostly all of them.  One day, as all the Norkin’s know, he will go to Gotham City and meet Batman.  That is his dream.  He’s a little on the silly side.

Then there was little baby Mark.  He was 1 and loved to play with balls.  When you rolled a ball towards him, he giggled like you just mushed pie in your face.  Fanny loved him.

These are the Norkin’s.

      “Supper!” called Fanny from her spot in the kitchen.  Her three norkonauts ran in the room.  First, walked in Whilamina, clumsily bouncing about.  In true Whilamina style, she crashed her elbow on the wall and tripped over a chair to where she lay on the floor.

“I’m okay” she said as she got up, rubbing her elbow.  “I’ll save you!”  Richard yelled.  He ran across the room to help her up.  He forgot to stop and tripped over Whilamina sending her back to the floor.  “He’s at the 30, the 20, the 10… TOUCHDOOOOOWWWWW…”  Bob tripped over the two of them making a pile of norkonauts.  It made everyone giggle when Mark crawled up Whilamina and plopped down on her stomach.

Well, that was very silly.  They had cavatelli and broccoli for dinner.

When Fanny was cleaning up, she decided that Richard needed a scarf to be a super-duper-hero.  She ran to her room and went to her closet.  It was very messy.  She realized that she had no yarn!

Fanny decided to go sit on their new porcelain throne.  It helped her think.  Some days, she would just sit on the toilet and think about everything in the whole entire world.

Fanny called up her sister, Buttoxa.  Buttoxa had a lot of sewing needles.  She sent them through the mail.  Whilamina was screaming at Bob because he ate the last doughnut that she had said that SHE wanted.  Richard looked at Bob and stuck his tounge out and sang the “tootie-ta” song.

“I’m Fanny Norkin and I need yarn!”  That’s the words that came out of Fanny’s mouth at the Fiddle’s on Fire Parade.

“Tootie ta?” Mark said curiously.

Whilamina whispered “Mom you’re so embarrassing!”  Fanny said “Buttoxa, can Whoopee and Cush come over after the parade.

“You’re so embarrassing!”  Buttoxa screamed.  The parade seemed to freeze and stare.

      “Well I’m calling Bobert!  He has yarn!”  Fanny announced.  Whilamina just stared.  Richard was saying the name Ricardo over and over again.  Mark just stuck out his tongue     Bobert gave her yarn and she was happy.  Richard got an unwanted scarf.  Whilamina got a hat and Bob got mittens.

80 well spent years later!

The Ceremony was Beautiful.  There were flowers on the ground as the casket was lowered.  The will was about to be read.

“I am George Bober and this is what Miss Fanny’s Will says!  I leave all my belongings to my kids and husband and so on so forth!  Oh! and George Bober!  Just wanted to say Thanks for the Yarn!”

Fanny had always been one for jokes.  Her sad kids and her grandchildren all had a knowing smile on there faces.  This was Fanny Norkin… Give her yarn!

So, yeah, it was written by a 10 year old, and because she’s mine, I probably think it’s cuter than anyone else who would ever read it.

I’m grateful not to have a sister, in real life, because I have a feeling she wouldn’t speak to us again after finding that her niece named her “Buttoxa.”

I will say that she’s quite insightful, and perhaps is a bit of a seer, because did you notice the part where she wrote about “Fanny” going to the bathroom do be alone and do her best thinking?

Could she have been foreseeing her mother’s best-selling book “I Just Want to Pee Alone?”

Perhaps.

Perhaps.

Anyway, I’m glad Real Man saved it, because I know she’ll like looking back on it someday.

I’m not great with saving every piece of paper they bring home from school, but I do try to hang on to stories, photos, and anything with a handprint on it.

We’ll probably print this one out and add it to the memory box.

Those of you with kids, do you save everything your child writes, makes, creates?

Or, like me, do you pare it down to only certain things?

I’m always curious how other people tame the paper monster, and would love for you to weigh in!