Conversations with Connor Archives

My Proud Mommy Moment

April 19, 2012 by Farewell Stranger ·

You know those people who always say the right thing and appear to leave lemon drops and lollipops in their wake? My friend Kir is like that. She has never said anything that hasn’t made me smile. Not ever. She litters her comments and messages with x’s and o’s and means every one of them. She is sweet and supportive and wise and I think sometimes we underestimate how important people like that are to the world.

I don’t anymore, especially not where she’s concerned. Every interaction with her feels like a blessing, and that’s why I was so honoured when she asked me to guest post for her Proud Mommy Moment series.

I’ve chosen to share something recent that is lighting up my life right now, and I’d love it if you’d visit me at Kir’s and read it.

Comments here closed. Talk to me there!

Filed Under: Conversations with Connor, Guest posts, Happy things, Motherhood · Tagged With: family, gratitude, moments

Puzzling Imperfection

April 10, 2012 by Farewell Stranger ·

In the dark of his room, after much wiggling and whirring, he gets quiet. Then there’s a small voice in the darkness next to me.

“Do you know what Ryan said?”

“What?” I ask.

He is quiet for a while.

Then, “He said I was a dumb puzzle maker.”

This is not what I expected him to say.

I’m overwhelmed by so many emotions – surprise, anger, but mostly sadness. Why does this have to start so early?

He lamented shortly after starting at this new preschool last month that he didn’t have any friends. We had a good talk about that and he has overcome it and I think he feels he has some friends there now. Evidently Ryan isn’t one of them.

He has described this puzzle to me – it’s a new one, featuring crocodiles and snakes and a striped tortoise. He quite likes it.

“Why did he say that to you?” I ask, as my brain jumps ahead to an appropriately motherly response to this confession.

“Because I didn’t know where all the pieces went.”

He’s three. And he’s actually quite good at puzzles. (And here’s where I attempt to repress my inappropriately motherly comment about how apparently he’s not good enough by Ryan’s standards.)

We talk about it. Yes, it hurt his feelings. No, he didn’t say anything in response. He was nervous. It made him sad.

It makes me sad too.

Image credit: Alfonsina Blyde on Flickr

I offer suggestions about how he can deal with this type of situation. Remind him he’s good at lots of things and he can remember that even when someone else says something mean. Offer over-his-head suggestions about why people say things like that to others.

It all sounds hollow. Insufficient. A stretch.

What I really want to say is, “It breaks my heart to know that someone said something to you that made you sad. I want to protect you from that so you never have to feel that way again.”

But I can’t, so I don’t.

“Can we keep talking about this?” he asks. His voice is small.

Of course we can, I tell him.

Even though I don’t know what else to say.

Filed Under: Conversations with Connor, Hard things, Motherhood · Tagged With: mom's instinct, my wish for you

Mom, we need to have a talk

April 2, 2012 by Farewell Stranger ·

I got a talking-to the other day.

Connor was picking up the cards from his memory game when we heard a noise from the kitchen where my husband was making dinner. A barking spider, or at least that’s what it sounded like.

I was playing around on the computer at the time and mindlessly remarked, “Uh oh.” (An appropriate response when someone farts, I’d argue.)

Connor got very serious. He came over and told me we needed to have a talk as soon as he was finished picking up his cards. I knew I was in for it.

When he was done, he came right over.

“Mom,” he said as he sat down and gave a big sigh.

“Yes?” I answered, looking quite as serious as the occasion warranted.

“When Daddy farts, don’t say ‘uh oh.’ That’s not what you’re supposed to say.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“You’re supposed to say, ‘Say “excuse me.”‘ Because if you say ‘uh oh’ that’s not what you’re supposed to say.”

I glanced over and saw my husband eavesdropping. Right at that moment he turned away to hide his laughter. I remained composed, listening attentively to my son’s earnest correction.

“You’re right,” I said. “I’m so glad we had this talk.”

He gave me one last serious look and walked away.

What do you know? Apparently he does sometimes listen after all.

Filed Under: Conversations with Connor, Motherhood · Tagged With: family, toddlers are weird

Missing Grandma

February 21, 2012 by Farewell Stranger ·

Big, spontaneous tears at bedtime tonight.

“I miss Grandma,” he said, his voice in the darkness succumbing to a wail.

Oh dear, I thought.

He was tired—by design, since tonight is volleyball night for my husband and I’m tired and didn’t want an extended bedtime again (ha ha) so we skipped his nap—so I figured it was a small sigh and he’d succumb to sleep.

“Oh buddy, I know you miss Grandma. She’s coming to visit soon though.”

Sniff, sniff, wail.

“We’re going to go and visit Grandma and Grandpa soon too!”

Nothing.

“And you know what? They’re getting ready to move here!”

“They should live right next to us.”

“Maybe they will.” (Mental note: Ask the neighbours if they would like to sell their house.)

“We never should have left our house.”

“…What do you mean? Which house?”

“Our old house.”

Oh dear.

This child sure knows how to break his mama’s heart. He’s probably been thinking about Grandma and all the fun things they do and all the things he wants to show her. I imagine his little brain thinking about this but not saying anything until now, when it comes out in the quiet of the night. Whether it’s a tired lament or not, I know he misses them. I knew he would. I dreaded it.

I tried to jolly him along – “They’re coming soon!” and “You know what?! Grandpa is a really good skater and he would love to go skating with you! You can show him your new skates and what you’ve learned so far!” – but no dice.

He was quiet, and at first I thought it was working. I could no longer hear his sniffles—only mine—but then it started again.

“WAHHH!!”

The mommy-cheering-up tactics weren’t working, so we called Grandma. They talked and made a list of all the things they’re going to do when she comes to visit and, for now at least, it’s all better. Until the next bedtime, and the next, and the next. Until they’ve moved close enough to make him happy.

I really need to go and sweet-talk the neighbours.

Filed Under: Conversations with Connor, Hard things, Motherhood · Tagged With: bedtime, family

A Serving of Working Mom Guilt, Please

January 23, 2012 by Farewell Stranger ·

I’m struggling tonight.

I’ve started a new job, which I love, but I’m playing the Working Mom Guilt Game, which I hate. And tonight I lost.

Last night, after a fun and busy weekend, I stood at the kitchen counter to make my lunch for today. Connor came over and asked me what I was doing. “Making my lunch,” I said. “Why?” he asked. “Because I have to go to work tomorrow.”

And then came the face.

“I thought you didn’t have to go to work every day.”

I hate that face.

We’ve had this conversation several times in the last couple of weeks. He wants me to play with him in the morning or sit with him while he eats his breakfast. I want to do that too. I love mornings with him. It’s quiet, I’m not thinking about all the things I have to get done, and it’s just me and him. But weekday mornings are too short, and more often than not lately he isn’t even up when I leave for work, which steals at least half an hour I’d otherwise get to spend with him. When he is up I inevitably get, “Do you have to go to work today? [sad face]” So as we approach weekends I get to do the “Guess what?!” thing and tell him I don’t have to work. We talk about the things we’re going to do and he gets that excited, I-get-my-mama face.

I love that face.

What I don’t love is the other end of the day when I come home after a day—preceded too often by too little sleep—from a new job that makes my brain tired. When I have spent all day in an office full of people, talking and laughing and working and learning, and my inner introvert just wants to sit in my quiet bedroom by myself for a while.

3-year-olds don’t let you sit in your bedroom by yourself for any length of time. At least mine doesn’t.

So I come home after working to a little guy who wants his mom to play with him, which, as the last thing I feel like doing, induces massive guilt.

Working Mom Guilt.

I’m not here when I want to be and when I am here I spend too much time wanting something else. It sucks.

This is what I missed while I was at work today.

This is especially tough right now because I’m working a slightly longer day than I used to and I work farther away, both of which slice into my momming time. And he’s going to bed later, which slices into my me time.

Nobody’s winning here, people. (And don’t even get me started on all the blog reading and commenting I’m not doing.)

Maybe I’ll get used to it. Maybe we all will. Maybe we won’t. In any case, tonight my working mom guilt came with a side order of the Monday tireds and some irrational, the-toddler-is-chewing-too-loud annoyance and I had to leave the room to take a deep breath.

My mama mug spilleth over, and I don’t know what to do about it.