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The Mathematical Probability of Interruption

April 7, 2009 by

I have a theory I’d like to posit.  And no, I’m not sure if I spelled or used the word “posit” correctly – moving on.

Without fail, when I make the concerted effort to get up early in the morning so I can have a quiet time or do some writing, my kids also wake up extra early.

Undoubtably, if I sit down for a moment midday to rest, read a book, read blogs, write, someone will fall down and skin their knee, need a drink, have to use the bathroom, or, as is the case right now with Landon, just suddenly need a few extra snuggles (which I am gladly doling out so this post may take forever to finish).

Okay, I’m back and let me just say that I just got some of the sweetest kisses and hugs from that precious baby.  Wow…I hope he’s not getting sick. 

Anyway, I posted a status update on my Facebook page the other day regarding this particular phenomenon and received a fascinating response from one of my friends that got me thinking.  Her idea was that children can sense a change in air pressure, so if we move early in the morning, it stirs them.  While I find this to be a fascinating theory, I’d like to take it a step further.

Thus, I have now established The Probability of Interruption, which I feel certain should eventually be adopted as a true Theory.  Or not. I don’t know much about that sort of thing, actually.  I’ve always been a literature kind of gal. Me and math are not friends.

The Probability of Interruption states that as the heartrate of the mother, the bpm (beats per minute), rises and falls, so will the bpm of the child also rise in fall in opposite and similar effect.

Got it? No?

An example – this morning, I took my resting heart rate when I woke up.  I had a resting bpm of 56.  Once I rose and moved around enough to use the bathroom, get dressed, come out to the computer and sit down, my bpm had risen to about 62.

And Tia woke up.  Even though it was quite early and she went to bed late last night, she still woke up.  Why is this? Why, it’s because of The Probability of Interruption.  As my heart rate rose, do did hers.  Though I made little to no noise, she was stirred from her slumber.  In this instance, her heart rate rose in similar effect to mine.

Now, after rushing to get everyone ready for the day and Sloan out the door, my bpm was at roughly 68.  I sat down at the computer and after 5 minutes of sitting, it had fallen back down to 63.  It was at this precise moment that Tia hit her brother and he came to me crying.  Moments after dealing with that, both children were in need of a drink.  Why is this?  Because…you got it! The Probability of Interruption.  As my heart rate dropped, the kids’ bpm’s rose in opposite effect thereby causing inappropriate behavior and the metabolic need for sustenance.

This is why I have such a difficult time getting anything done.  If I want to clean, someone will ultimately thwart that plan.  If I want to take a shower, you can be sure that someone will pull open the shower door with some sort of desperate need – all because as my heart rate slowed into a relaxed state, theirs rose into an agitated state, thus necessitating (?) the need to interrupt my reverie.

So, in effect, The Probability of Interruption pretty much guarantees that for the rest of my life, I will likely be interrupted any time I begin to get too comfortable.  My theory obviously proves that as fact.

And, while this theory can have some mild effect on fathers, it appears that mostly and mainly The Probability of Interruption applies to mothers alone.  Even if dad is the one to wake up early and mom’s bpm remains in the resting state, the children will most likely either sleep through dad’s movement, or they will wake up due to the noise that dad inevitably makes and come wake mom up rather than disturb dad. 

So there you have it, ladies.  You now have scientific evidence that your children are hard wired to make sure that you never fully accomplish anything to the full extent.  Oh, and incidentally, this theory works just as equally if mom is doing anything that raises her heart rate.  This means that you and your husband will most likely want to make judicious use of the lock on your bedroom door if you get my drift…and I think you do. (blush)

Now I’ve embarrassed myself and my bpm is surely rising because the kids are going wild.  Gotta go!

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Kids do the darndest things, Life, Motherhood, Random

The Nest and the Bootie

March 31, 2009 by

Hee, hee – that title makes me laugh. 

Last night we watched Dancing With the Stars.  I usually don’t get in to that show, but it was kind of fun last night so we ended up watching the whole thing.

Sloan and Tia got into it as well, but half way through the show, I found myself squirming as I watched my 5-year-old oggling the (very) scantily clad dancers. 

Sadly, instead of listening to the silent urging I felt to turn the channel or, better yet, turn the TV off, I continued to watch and hope that Sloan wasn’t really paying attention to the clothing but was more enraptured by the dancing.  Until…

“Hey mom, I can almost see that girl’s bootie! And look at her nest!  She’s not wearing many clothes.  She should be careful or she’ll be embarrassing in front of all these people.”

And that signified bedtime for small children.  Geesh!

Yes, he calls the female chest a nest.  It’s an honest misunderstanding but it makes me laugh so I haven’t corrected him, even though he’s called it that for several years now.  At least he’s got more discretion than he did at 3 when he would comment on the size of a woman’s “nest” anywhere and everywhere.

But, that was the point when it hit me.  While the show itself is rather innocent and fun, the outfits they wear are anything but.  It’s amazing how aware I am of such things now that I have boys. 

It’s funny how before kids, I was determined that I would be the cool mom.  I would be the mom who didn’t sweat the small stuff, who didn’t make a big deal out of the “little” things.  Well guess what?  What I used to think was little is now quite magnified.  I’m acutely aware of what my kids see and hear and I find myself much more vigilant than I thought I would be when it comes to protecting their innocence.

So we will likely not be adding Dancing With the Stars to our family repetoire of TV shows.  I mean, it’s good fun and all, but Sloan was right – there was nest and bootie shakin’ all over the place and somehow I’m thinking that I’d like to avoid him thinking of that as fun.  At least for a while anyway.

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Motherhood, Sloan

Hoops and Tears

February 16, 2009 by

Saturday afternoon, we packed the family up and went to the local YMCA to watch Sloan play basketball. Who knew that while watching a group of 5-year-olds trip over a bright orange ball, I would end up blinking back tears and, ultimately, lose a night’s sleep.

Sloan is a great little athlete. So far, two of our three kids have shown the propensity to have their daddy’s graces when it comes to athletics and I’m very glad. But, Sloan is not an overly competitive or aggressive kid. He’s out there to have fun and to look good. He’s not there to win. I know that this is a good trait to have and I truly am glad that he’s got such a great attitude when he plays sports. Lee and I also think that he will be more geared toward individual sports like golf and, perhaps, baseball. I like to think of this as one battle we won’t have to fight with Sloan. I also trust that as he gets older, he’ll develop more of a drive for victory, though I don’t know that he’ll ever be super competitive.

 Now Tia, on the other hand, is a different story. She hates to lose and she is highly competitive. But I digress.

I noticed for the first time on Saturday, that Sloan did seem a little bothered by the fact that he didn’t get more chances to shoot. But he just doesn’t really go after the ball. That competitive nature is just not in him. And as we watched him play, I felt this lump of fear knot in my stomach.

My senior year of high school was a rough time for me. I was dealing with a specific struggle that was linked directly to my lack of self-esteem and it grew into a large enough problem that I required counseling. I remember very specifically one of my counselling sessions breaking down in tears and telling my counselor, “I just don’t feel like I’m good at anything. No matter what I do, someone is always better than I am. I feel like a plain Jane.”

Now that I am older and have had some time to mature and assess some of those feelings, I see so much more clearly what was going on. The problem was not that I wasn’t good at anything, but that I wasn’t recognized for the things that I was good at. Of course I had the support and encouragement from my parents, but I longed for the acceptance from my peers and other leaders and teachers within my sphere of influence. Despite the fact that I was indeed gifted in some areas, it seemed that I was often overlooked and passed by and I struggled with that. I want to be delicate as I write this. It isn’t that I never received encouragement from anyone. I know that I was loved and encouraged. But I had that perception back then, as my flesh warred against my spirit. I longed to be great and was discontent at constantly coming up average.

Before you think of me as some narcissistic little brat who needed all the glory, you should also know that there are some events that occurred in my life that served to create this need for recognition. I’ll keep it vague because I don’t like to discuss private family matters on my blog, but in short, when I was thirteen, our family took custody of three of my cousins who had experienced a good deal of emotional trauma.

 The year that they lived with us was difficult on everyone involved and I think we were all left with a few emotional scars as a result. Because of the needs of my cousins, my own emotional needs were often overlooked-not because people didn’t care, but simply because they didn’t know. I developed this yearning to be seen. I longed to be told that I was great at something and all of that truly took root in that one pivotal year of my life. That’s the best I can do to explain how this deep-seeded emotional need for recognition came about.

When I went to college, for the first time, I felt like I was noticed. I started to receive encouragement from people outside my own family for the gifts that I had been given and I blossomed. I developed self-esteem that I never knew I was capable of. I also, oddly enough, developed a sense of humility that I hadn’t known before. Those were good years for me.

Now that I’m grown, I know the Truth behind why I’ve been given gifts and what I am to expect from them. I realize now that it’s not about me. It’s not about whether or not I get recognition for the things I’m good at. It’s all about Who gets the glory and, ultimately, I believe that the Lord deserves the glory for anything I do. I no longer have this unquenchable desire for recognition. In fact, I don’t much care anymore. I just want to glorify Him and pray that I do that whether I am writing, singing, or just playing with my kids.

But, as I watched Sloan holding his hands out and yelling, “I’m open, I’m open,” and I heard the coach constantly yelling, “Give the ball to Sloan, he’s open,” and watched as time and time again the ball was passed to another kid, all of those feelings rushed back and I began to fear once again. Only this time the fear was compounded because it was for my son. I do not want him to experience those feelings of being overlooked and passed by. The one time he did receive the ball, he shot and missed and my heart broke.

And he’s only five. Good grief. I’m not sure I’ll survive this motherhood thing.

Anyway, I spent much of Saturday night tossing and turning and praying that the Lord release me of that fear. And I feel like I’ve made a little headway. The fact that I’m getting emotional as I type this post shows I have a little ways to go, but I’m trusting the Lord to rebandage the wound that seems to have split ever so slightly.

First of all, I know that Sloan is young and that he will undoubtably experience the pain of rejection growing up and that he will be okay. I also know that it’s okay if he’s not a competitive person. He will find his niche and Lee and I will do the best we can to nurture the gifts that he has. Mostly, I pray that I will be an example to Sloan that it’s not about who wins or loses – it’s about who gets the glory in the end.

After all, that’s the Truth I want my son to learn earlier than I did.

Filed Under: Family, Motherhood, Sloan

Redeeming Halloween

October 28, 2008 by

As the Halloween season approaches I thought I’d pass on the name of a great book that I think is important for parents to read – particularly those who struggle with the concept of Halloween.

It seems that Halloween has gotten a little bit of a bad wrap over the years. What can be, and should be, a fun, innocent holiday for children has been mired by slasher movies and horror tales of cult-like sacrifices. This, in my opinion, is unfortunate because Halloween is really a fun time for both children and parents.

The idea of Halloween being a pagan holiday is particularly prevalent among christian circles. I understand where this is coming from. In fact, Lee and I really debated whether or not we would celebrate Halloween with our kids. Both of us just assumed that Halloween was a holiday that opened the door to evil and wondered if we should just scrap it. But, when Sloan was born, it broke my heart to think of not dressing him up and parading him around the neighborhood, showing off his cute, fat cheeks and racking up a little sugary delight.

I also couldn’t figure out how to not celebrate the holiday without it seeming weird.  Did we hand out candy to trick or treaters, but just not take our kids Trick or Treating?  That didn’t seem right because it just makes the practice of Trick or Treating seem wrong.

Did we turn off all the lights and hide in a dark corner all night, ignoring the Trick or Treaters on our front step?  That didn’t seem like a good conclusion either because how would we explain that to our kids?

And, while I love fall festivals that church’s put on and have no problem attending them, the fact is, they are still a celebration of the holiday called Halloween.  So before Lee and I made a decision, I decided it was time to research Halloween. And I am glad I did!

I came across a book called Redeeming Halloween: Celebrating Without Selling Out. This book was published by Focus on the Family, a reputable christian organization whose focus is, oddly enough, on issues that affect families. I learned a lot from this book.

Perhaps the thing that most surprised me was the fact the Halloween, the original holiday, is not pagan but rather a Christian holiday. It stands for All Hallow ‘een or “the eve of the holy ones“.

Under the reign of Nero, a tyrannous and horrible Roman leader, christian’s were brutally murdered in public places. Literally thrown before the lions, christians in early Rome were martyred for no other reason than that Nero felt threatened by them. In A.D. 610, as the church gained more honor, these martyrs were officially recognized and given their own holiday, All Saints’ Day or All Hallows Day. This holiday eventually landed on the calendar on November 1. It was meant to be a day for the church to remember and recognize the believers who died for their faith.

(Incidentally, if you’re looking for an excellent read on the early Christian martyrs, I highly recommend the book Quo Vadis.  It’s a novel, but it’s so historically factual that it barely passes as fiction.  It is one of the most fascinating books I’ve read in a long time.)

Now, there is no denying that this meaning of Halloween has been wildly distorted over the centuries. But the fact remains that Halloween is not pagan, and this book gives great suggestions of ways to celebrate Halloween by merging the traditions that we have today, trick or treating, with the true meaning of the holiday. After all, isn’t that what we try to do at Christmas as well? If you think about it, Christmas has also been dreadfully distorted and paganized.

So where did the costumes and trick or treating come into play? The authors state that there is no real conclusive evidence as to where this tradition began but there is some historical evidence that in the mid-1800’s, masquaraders would go from door to door performing plays in exchange for food or drink.

Around this time, a large population of Irish immigrants came to America bringing with them a tradition known as “mischeif night” where they would canvas neighborhoods playing harmless tricks on their neighbors. By the 1920’s, however, this tradition had gotten out of hand leading to true vandalism, so a small town mayor instituted a night where “good” children could go to neighbor’s homes and shops, crying “Trick or Treat!” The idea was that the shop owners should give them a treat so they wouldn’t be “tricked.” Placing this tradition on the eve of All Hallow’s Day was merely a way to designate it as a once a year occasion.

So, for those of you who may be unsure of whether or not to celebrate Halloween, I highly recommend this book.  You still have to do what you feel is right for your family, but you owe it to yourself to be educated about the decision you are making. 

For those of you who celebrate Halloween but feel guilty about doing so – Don’t! You don’t have to skulk around on Halloween hoping no one from church see’s you taking your kids out. Bottom line is that there are ways to enjoy the innocence and the fun of Halloween without partaking of the evil that pervades.

So, in closing, Happy Halloween!

Filed Under: Family, Life, Motherhood, Random Tagged With: ,

Sometimes a kiss and a bandaid won’t do

July 16, 2008 by

I’ve pretty much given up hope on finding Tia’s lovey. I know I’ve been talking about this a lot, but it really has been an upsetting thing for her and for me. I spent a little time thinking about it last night because I have honestly fluctuated between crying over that silly bear and laughing at myself for getting so upset. It’s more than just the fact that we lost a little piece of Tia. That, of course, does make me so sad, but it goes beyond those emotions.

As parents, we work hard to fix our children’s problems – especially when they’re little and the problems are so easy to fix. You got a scrape? Let mommy kiss it – all better! You’re scared? Here, come snuggle with mommy.  And so it goes… 

The problems, in general, are just easier to fix during these young years. But now, suddenly, my daughter has a problem that I cannot fix for her. It’s relatively minor, of course, compared to the real tragedies that could happen. But in her little two year old mind, she is missing her best friend and I am unable to fix that for her. I can’t turn back the clock and look for lovey before we left the hotel. I can’t will him to appear. I can’t find another one on the internet. It’s the first time I’ve watched one of my kids face disappointment and it stinks!

My mom wisely told me the other day that this will not be the last time I have to sit back and watch my child hurt and know there’s nothing I can do to fix it. We are approaching the school days when the sharp, pointed barbs of another child’s words could potentially devastate one of my kids. That is a wound I cannot prevent and it will equally cut through my heart to see them suffer such disappointment. There will likely be some snot nosed little boy that will one day come along and break my daughter’s heart and I will have to sit back and let her be refined through that experience.

There are so many disappointments to come, so many heartaches that mommy will not be able to kiss away. For now I will relish the thought that for the most part, I am their hero. I can fix their problems, but I am praying the Lord will give me the strength to handle the bigger disappointments to come because if I get this upset over a little bear, what will I do when something worse happens?

With time, Tia will slowly forget that little purple bear. Before long, his memory will exist to her only through pictures and the stories we tell. I, however, will probably always long to find her lovey bear. I imagine that for years to come, every time I pass a children’s section of a store, my eyes will automatically glance through the stuffed animals hanging up disply, looking and hoping to see lovey bear. Long after her affections have moved on to something else, my heart will still long to ease the pain of the few weeks when she longed for her friend, her comfort.

Am I obssesive, or is this just natural? I haven’t figured that one out yet.

Filed Under: Family, Kids, Life, Motherhood, Tia Tagged With: , , ,

Tia Tales, Part One

January 11, 2008 by

Warning…The story I am about to post is gross…really, really gross.

So it was a fairly nice day today – chilly, but the sun was out, so I decided to take the kids on a walk. I got Tia all dressed and ready and sent her outside while I bundled Landon up and put him in the Baby Bjorn. When I came out, Tia was chewing on something and looking at me with that guilty look, which is never a good sign.

Assuming she was eating a piece of dog food (something she is prone to doing), I asked her to spit it out in my hand. When she did, I almost threw up. It was not a piece of dog food, but was, in fact, Landon’s umbilical cord, which must have fallen out of the garbage can.

Ewwwww…I am gagging even typing this out. Sometimes I wonder how children survive childhood!

Filed Under: Gross, Kids do the darndest things, Life, Motherhood, Tia

5 whole hours!

January 10, 2008 by

I thought I would jsut share the miracle that Landon went 5 hours between feedings last night! Amazing! I actually feel like I got some rest. What a day.

Filed Under: Kids, Landon, Life, Motherhood

Bandwagon here I come!!!

January 9, 2008 by

So, I must admit I’ve never fully understood the concept of blogging. Is it a journal? Is it a brag site? What am I supposed to do here? But, I must admit, I’ve become intrigued after reading the blogs of several friends and so here I go…I’m jumping on the blog bandwagon. I like the idea of family and friends being able to access our crazy world and take a peek into our life. The kids are growing so fast and changing everyday. I’m afraid if I don’t start documenting it, then I will forget and these days will be lost forever.

So I guess I’ll just dive right in…Things are crazy here. Three kids is definately intense. Of course they are each precious and wonderful, but they will wear you out. Lee was out of town for five days – he just got home today. Why is it that he always has to go to national sales meetings just days after we have a baby? I did survive the time, but only thanks to my mom. Had she not been here, either I or one of the children may not have made it! Of course as soon as he left Sloan got sick, which meant we were pretty much house bound. With Sloan sick and not sleeping well, and Landon not sleeply hardly at all, it was crazy. My mom ended up pulling a couple of all nighters so that I could rest, bless her heart. All in all, though, I was pretty darn proud of myself for making it through this week. But I am beyond relieved that Lee is now home. Life is much easier when daddy is around.

Tia has decided to start trying to talk this week! Since she’ll be 2 in a couple of weeks, it’s about time! But I think in the last few days she has added four words to her very limited vocabulary! She also decided that today would be the day that she starts climbing out of her crib. All of the sudden I heard a knocking on her door this afternoon and there she stood, lovies in hand, grinning proudly – little stinker. I was not ready for this and am praying that it doesn’t become a problem. She’s my good sleeper so I don’t want anything to affect that! We’ll see what happens. I’m not ready to switch her to a big girl bed!

Landon is precious, but he is not a good sleeper. I think he’s got stomach issues. He is so loud at night. He grunts and groans like he’s going to explode. It’s really astounding the sounds that he can make. I keep reminding myself that he is only three weeks old and I can’t expect too much. So we’re hanging in there. It’s a season and it’s short, though right now it seems so long.

And then there’s Sloan who is four and a half and is full of it! He is so funny and fun…and sassy. As I was typing this very sentence, he came running out of his bedroom (he’s supposed to be asleep) to tell me a story abouta dinosaur that came out of a volcano and stepped on all the cars. This is his favorite story to tell. I hear it daily..multiple times. He loves preschool and has been so bummed the last couple of days to not be able to go. He told me this morning that if I let him go to school he promised not to breath on anyone. He then pursed his lips together to show me how he wouldn’t cough or sneeze. But he couldn’t breathe through his nose and had to open his mouth to catch a breath. Hopefully tomorrow he can go!

So this is it. My first blog. It wasn’t so bad…We’ll see if I can keep up with it!

Filed Under: Blogging, Kids, Motherhood
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