Miss F was having a mini melt down because her little sister was beating her at a reading task. Miss F cried,
"But MUM! It's not FAIR! Miss V is SMARTER than me!"
Miss V, genuinely concerned for her big sisters happiness, patted Miss F on the shoulder, and said,
"Don't worry, Miss F, you are still smart by association."
Letter from the Editor
The following is copied directly from an email Miss V has just sent the people who publish our local newspaper. The only thing I changed was her real name to "Miss V", and I was only allowed to help with the spelling of "famous".
Dear person who is going to publish my newspaper,
My name is Miss V and I would like to make a newspaper that has only good news. Good news is more important than bad news because it makes you happy.
My newspaper is called Weekly Grinners and I have some articles for it already.
Mum says she will loan me some money and I can pay her back when my newspaper is famous.
Please will you publish my newspaper?
Yours sincerely,
Miss V
Editor of Weekly Grinners
Dear person who is going to publish my newspaper,
My name is Miss V and I would like to make a newspaper that has only good news. Good news is more important than bad news because it makes you happy.
My newspaper is called Weekly Grinners and I have some articles for it already.
Mum says she will loan me some money and I can pay her back when my newspaper is famous.
Please will you publish my newspaper?
Yours sincerely,
Miss V
Editor of Weekly Grinners
It's a Matter of Safety
The Kewl kids and I went to the park yesterday and after a good hour of running around, we decided to go across the road for an ice cream. There was no pedestrian crossing so we walked over to the curb, then - as you do when you have small children - I went into control mode. I picked up Mr R, as I didn't have the pram and his walking is too slow to be safe while crossing the road. I asked Miss J and Miss F to hold hands with TJ, to remember to listen for my instructions and to help me to check for cars. Then I asked Miss V to hold my hand. Er - problem - my independent 3yo was not about to hold my hand when nobody else had to.
Standing by the side of the road, with 4 other children eager for the icecream that was waiting for them on the other side and the danger of passing traffic in between, my first instinct was to reach down and grab Miss V's hand anyway. When I tried this, she did the whole, 'hands behind her back, stepping away from me', thing. Then she said something awesome...
"Don't touch me! I said no!"
Man I love it when my kids say things like that!
I did a quick check to make sure Miss J, Miss F and TJ were safe and staying put, then I did some risk management with Miss V.
Me, "OK, you can cross the road without holding my hand if you stay right beside me all the way to the other side. If you get too far away I will use my hand to stop you without asking and you will have to hold my hand next time. Do you agree?"
Miss V, "Yes."
Me, "Where are you going to walk while we cross?"
Miss V, "Right beside you."
Me, "OK."
We proceeded to check for cars together, then we all crossed the road, with Miss V walking right beside me all the way to the other side.
Before I could thank her for such fantastic behaviour, a woman who was sitting at a cafe table a few meters away stood up, approached me and said, "Excuse me, but do you know how dangerous that was?"
She had obviously spotted us crossing the road and was concerned about my decision to respect Miss V's choice not to hold my hand (either that or she was just a nosey twit).
The conversation that followed went pretty much like this:
Me, "Do you mean my 3 year old choosing not to hold my hand?"
Woman, "Yes - this is a busy road, what if she ran off and got hit by a car?"
Me, "Thanks for your concern, I'm glad someone is looking out for kids in our community. If I thought Miss V was at risk of running off, I would not have let her walk by herself. She chose not to hold my hand today and I respect her choice."
Woman, "When it's a matter of safety, children shouldn't have a choice. I really don't think it is worth the risk."
At this point, I would usually just finish the conversation and walk away, but this person seemed genuine in her concern and although her words were confrontational, her body language was quite open and she seemed willing to listen to my perspective, too. So I continued...
Me, "Speaking of children's safety - Do you know how many kids are sexually assaulted before they turn 18?"
Woman, "No, and I don't see the relevence.."
Me, "1 in 3 girls and 1 in 7 boys. Most of the time, perpetrators are people the children know. I would much rather teach my children that it is OK to say no to adults they know touching them and manage the risk of crossing a road when I am present, than make my daughter hold my hand and potentially risk her holding the hand of a perpetrator when I am not around."
The woman went on to say that making my daughter hold my hand to cross a road had absolutely nothing to do with sexual assault and to suggest it did made me "a total fruit loop".
That was where our conversation ended yesterday, but I'd really like to continue it here.
Holding hands to cross a road is really a poor example, as there are many, many other factors at play and I think it confuses the issue. I'm not saying that making children hold someone's hand to cross a road puts them at risk of sexual assault, nor am I saying that children can make whatever decisions they like and we should respect them.
What I am saying is that yesterday, the risk of Miss V not holding my hand was minimal, and reinforcing her ability to say no to me touching her was more important.
This is what I'm curious about.
I know that I am a total fruit loop, but I would really love to know what you think about children's safety, sexual assault and their right to say no to adults?
Standing by the side of the road, with 4 other children eager for the icecream that was waiting for them on the other side and the danger of passing traffic in between, my first instinct was to reach down and grab Miss V's hand anyway. When I tried this, she did the whole, 'hands behind her back, stepping away from me', thing. Then she said something awesome...
"Don't touch me! I said no!"
Man I love it when my kids say things like that!
I did a quick check to make sure Miss J, Miss F and TJ were safe and staying put, then I did some risk management with Miss V.
Me, "OK, you can cross the road without holding my hand if you stay right beside me all the way to the other side. If you get too far away I will use my hand to stop you without asking and you will have to hold my hand next time. Do you agree?"
Miss V, "Yes."
Me, "Where are you going to walk while we cross?"
Miss V, "Right beside you."
Me, "OK."
We proceeded to check for cars together, then we all crossed the road, with Miss V walking right beside me all the way to the other side.
Before I could thank her for such fantastic behaviour, a woman who was sitting at a cafe table a few meters away stood up, approached me and said, "Excuse me, but do you know how dangerous that was?"
She had obviously spotted us crossing the road and was concerned about my decision to respect Miss V's choice not to hold my hand (either that or she was just a nosey twit).
The conversation that followed went pretty much like this:
Me, "Do you mean my 3 year old choosing not to hold my hand?"
Woman, "Yes - this is a busy road, what if she ran off and got hit by a car?"
Me, "Thanks for your concern, I'm glad someone is looking out for kids in our community. If I thought Miss V was at risk of running off, I would not have let her walk by herself. She chose not to hold my hand today and I respect her choice."
Woman, "When it's a matter of safety, children shouldn't have a choice. I really don't think it is worth the risk."
At this point, I would usually just finish the conversation and walk away, but this person seemed genuine in her concern and although her words were confrontational, her body language was quite open and she seemed willing to listen to my perspective, too. So I continued...
Me, "Speaking of children's safety - Do you know how many kids are sexually assaulted before they turn 18?"
Woman, "No, and I don't see the relevence.."
Me, "1 in 3 girls and 1 in 7 boys. Most of the time, perpetrators are people the children know. I would much rather teach my children that it is OK to say no to adults they know touching them and manage the risk of crossing a road when I am present, than make my daughter hold my hand and potentially risk her holding the hand of a perpetrator when I am not around."
The woman went on to say that making my daughter hold my hand to cross a road had absolutely nothing to do with sexual assault and to suggest it did made me "a total fruit loop".
That was where our conversation ended yesterday, but I'd really like to continue it here.
Holding hands to cross a road is really a poor example, as there are many, many other factors at play and I think it confuses the issue. I'm not saying that making children hold someone's hand to cross a road puts them at risk of sexual assault, nor am I saying that children can make whatever decisions they like and we should respect them.
What I am saying is that yesterday, the risk of Miss V not holding my hand was minimal, and reinforcing her ability to say no to me touching her was more important.
This is what I'm curious about.
I know that I am a total fruit loop, but I would really love to know what you think about children's safety, sexual assault and their right to say no to adults?
Knock knock...
Today, for the first time in a long time I was left alone, with no role to play, no hat to wear, no expectations to fulfill.
There were no children in the house - so I didn't need to be anyone's mum.
I wasn't in the company of anyone - so I wasn't expected to be funny, or freaky, or positive, or social, or interested, or.. anything.
I had no work demands - so I didn't need to be 'professional'.
But the biggest difference today, was that for the first time in months I did not burst into tears the moment I was left alone - so I didn't become the grieving wife, or the grieving mother.
I didn't have to be or feel like anyone except myself.
Er... Self?
Hello?
Are you there?
It would seem that, metaphorically speaking, I got lost on my way to the door. I couldn't figure out if I was the one saying "Knock knock," or the one asking, "Who's there?", but I was at least certain the the joke was on me.
I eventually found myself down with the horses, scratching my "big sook" behind the ears as I leaned against his neck and he nuzzled his head on my shoulder. Horses always have a way of bringing me back to earth - or in this case - showing me where the door is. I am lucky that whenever I get lost, I know they will find me.
Having found myself, I've also found my curiosity, and I have a question...
Who is knocking on your door?
Who will answer?
And if they get lost, who, or what, shows them the way?
There were no children in the house - so I didn't need to be anyone's mum.
I wasn't in the company of anyone - so I wasn't expected to be funny, or freaky, or positive, or social, or interested, or.. anything.
I had no work demands - so I didn't need to be 'professional'.
But the biggest difference today, was that for the first time in months I did not burst into tears the moment I was left alone - so I didn't become the grieving wife, or the grieving mother.
I didn't have to be or feel like anyone except myself.
Er... Self?
Hello?
Are you there?
It would seem that, metaphorically speaking, I got lost on my way to the door. I couldn't figure out if I was the one saying "Knock knock," or the one asking, "Who's there?", but I was at least certain the the joke was on me.
I eventually found myself down with the horses, scratching my "big sook" behind the ears as I leaned against his neck and he nuzzled his head on my shoulder. Horses always have a way of bringing me back to earth - or in this case - showing me where the door is. I am lucky that whenever I get lost, I know they will find me.
Having found myself, I've also found my curiosity, and I have a question...
Who is knocking on your door?
Who will answer?
And if they get lost, who, or what, shows them the way?
Warrior Wednesday - Birthday edition
Miss V, "Zy is a lucky baby, hey mum?"
Me, "Yes, Miss V, he is. What do you think makes him lucky?"
Miss V, "He has two birthdays in a row! His body birthday and his spirit birthday."
Me, "Yeah, that's pretty lucky."
Miss V, "Yeah. But he is luckiest the most a'cause you are his mum and we are his sisters. It's luckiest to be Kewl, you know mum."
Me, "I know, Miss V."
Me, "Yes, Miss V, he is. What do you think makes him lucky?"
Miss V, "He has two birthdays in a row! His body birthday and his spirit birthday."
Me, "Yeah, that's pretty lucky."
Miss V, "Yeah. But he is luckiest the most a'cause you are his mum and we are his sisters. It's luckiest to be Kewl, you know mum."
Me, "I know, Miss V."
***
Happy birthday darling boy.
Love me.
Love me.
Warrior Wednesday
It's been a while since I posted a Warrior Wednesday on the Kewl blog. After realising that I was focusing too much on the past, and what was missing, I changed my perspective in order to embrace the present. I have still been writing to Zy, every Wednesday, but in a diary especially for him, where comments and "publicity" are not factors in holding my attention to death and grief and all of the stuff I am trying to move away from.
This week I am struggling big time to keep my head above water. My vision is blurred and the perspective I have worked hard to gain is spinning circles around my head - like a merry-go-round on fast forward, complete with ups and down, dizzying lights and "drive you insane" music.
This time last year, Baby Warrior had just been diagnosed with atypical Esophageal Atresia and shortly after that, with Cri-du-Chat syndrome. I was facing regular amniocentesis to treat polyhydramnios (the build up of amniotic fluid), with the possibility of premature labor each time.
His biological mother was wanting a medical termination.
I was wanting my husband to hold my hand and tell me everything would be OK.
This time last year, I was terrified. And it wasn't about to get any easier.
Today, the terror is almost as fresh as the first time around. There is a growing sense of fear and dread in the pit of my stomach, desperately being squashed down in the hope that positivity and a lighter perspective will make everything OK.
Today, I don't want to hold it down any more. I know that eventually, I will need to let it out if I truly want to pick myself up and continue on again, and right now, in this moment, I am tired of fighting it.
Zy died. That sucks, and I want to be miserable about it for a while.
So, the Kewl Kids and I are going away for a while. We are going to a place that is close to our hearts, and allows us to feel closer to Zy. It's also a place that is filled with much joy and adventure for the kids, so I will be more able to let the rivers wash my misery away before it affects them too much.
Take care out there, my friends in the bloggosphere. See you all on the other side.
This week I am struggling big time to keep my head above water. My vision is blurred and the perspective I have worked hard to gain is spinning circles around my head - like a merry-go-round on fast forward, complete with ups and down, dizzying lights and "drive you insane" music.
This time last year, Baby Warrior had just been diagnosed with atypical Esophageal Atresia and shortly after that, with Cri-du-Chat syndrome. I was facing regular amniocentesis to treat polyhydramnios (the build up of amniotic fluid), with the possibility of premature labor each time.
His biological mother was wanting a medical termination.
I was wanting my husband to hold my hand and tell me everything would be OK.
This time last year, I was terrified. And it wasn't about to get any easier.
Today, the terror is almost as fresh as the first time around. There is a growing sense of fear and dread in the pit of my stomach, desperately being squashed down in the hope that positivity and a lighter perspective will make everything OK.
Today, I don't want to hold it down any more. I know that eventually, I will need to let it out if I truly want to pick myself up and continue on again, and right now, in this moment, I am tired of fighting it.
Zy died. That sucks, and I want to be miserable about it for a while.
So, the Kewl Kids and I are going away for a while. We are going to a place that is close to our hearts, and allows us to feel closer to Zy. It's also a place that is filled with much joy and adventure for the kids, so I will be more able to let the rivers wash my misery away before it affects them too much.
Take care out there, my friends in the bloggosphere. See you all on the other side.
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