My Darling Ceilidh

Sometimes I am bewildered by the fact that I am Ceilidh's mother. When I gaze upon Devlin and Aisling, I do see glimpses of myself in them, both literally and figuratively. But I observe my middle child, I often wonder if she really is mine. For starters, I am not a "girly" girl, but Ceilidh is all female. She loves the colour pink. Reds and purples are a close second. She would prefer to wear dresses - long dresses - and don tights. When asked to brush her hair, she does so while looking at herself in the mirror. Her strokes are long and even as she combs out the tangles in her hair. Afterwards, she'll preen in front of the mirror.
When asked to sing a song, her voice is clear and melodious. Her colouring and printing meticulous. One day, I was asked to admire Devlin's art work. Ceilidh pointed out it was scribbling and messy, compared to hers.
She enjoys playing "teacher" to her group of students - Devlin and Aisling.
"Sit down and let's learn the numbers! I'm only going to pick someone who's quiet!" she admonishes as she holds a marker to the dry-erase board while instructing her siblings to sit on the floor.
At Devlin's hockey games, Aisling enthusiastically cheers on her brother. Ceilidh, meanwhile spends the game playing with her dolls or rolling out a tub of playdoh. She distracts our attention away from the action on the ice to display her latest play-doh creations. We tried to coax her into playing hockey next year. We even tried to tempt her with pink hockey skates and a pink hockey stick.  She refused. Aisling, on the other hand, begged to be "put into hockey when I'm older".
Should we have been surprised with Ceilidh's disinterest? Not really. This is the same girl who doesn't like soccer because it makes her sweaty when she runs up and down the field.
The other day after our spring snow storm, Devlin and Aisling, clad in their snowsuits, were frolicking in the snow while "helping" Daddy shovel the driveway. Ceilidh watched from the cozy confines of the home. When asked if she planned to join the fun, she demurred, stating it was too cold and wet.
Sometimes I wonder if being the middle child makes her exceptionally lazy. Or perhaps, Ceilidh was mistakenly placed with us when she is truly a member of a royal family. The world is to be at her service. She is the worst when it comes to picking up her toys. While her siblings make quick work of putting away their toys, Ceilidh will put on an Oscar worthy performance of picking up a small plaything and dropping it into the appropriate bucket. Rarely does she pick out her own clothes and gets dressed. Nine times out of ten, Ceilidh needs to have someone clothe her in the mornings. Aisling is well versed at selecting her outfits and coming down to breakfast all dressed, on her own. Mealtimes are especially frustrating. Aside from her pickiness and refusing to even consider a vegetable other than cucumber slices, Ceilidh expects to be spoon fed. She will open her mouth willingly  - like a baby bird waiting for her meal - so long as it's not her own hand holding the spoon or fork. The only times I have seen Ceilidh consume vast quantities of food is when her doting grandmother is visiting, since Halmuhnee has the patience to spoon feed a nearly five year old child. Although, if the food item is bacon, Ceilidh doesn't require any assistance. It's her favorite food group.
Ceilidh is already displaying that she is the nurturer. Unless she is the cause, she will attempt to soothe Aisling's crying over a boo-boo by hugging her and saying "it's okay" in a calm tone. When I was feeling under the weather after having spent two sleepless nights with an ailing Aisling, Ceilidh snuck into the bedroom, carefully tucked the blankets around me, and kissed me gently on the forehead.
What really stuns me is how gorgeous Ceilidh is. She has big eyes, creamy skin with just a hint of light freckles, and a brilliant smile that reveals dimples. When she's feeling particularly gleeful, Ceilidh will cuddle up and hug your arm with a death-like grip while impishly looking at you. I gaze upon her, and wonder how it is possible that I could be her mother. She looks nothing like me, and the only personality trait she has appeared to have inherited is her extreme stubborn streak. While all parents find their off-spring beautiful, I often find my breath taken away by Ceilidh. Surely, she couldn't be my progeny, I think in disbelief. The moment lasts until, we have another full-on meltdown - with foot stamping, shrieking at top volume, fists clenched, tears running down her cheeks.

Ingenious Aisling

On some nights, we have a family UNO game night. After baths, with pyjamas donned, we all settle onto the bed for a rousing card game. The rules state everyone is dealt seven cards to start. As the game progresses, some players may have to pickup two or four cards. That's a lot of cards for little hands.
Aisling figured a way to hold all of her cards while still being able to view them. She inserted the excess cards in between her toes!

Who's Number One?

My sister just returned from a business trip. She was away from her 11 month old for two and a half days. Before her departure, my mother, her mother-in-law, me, - we all wondered if her husband would be able to handle it. "It" meaning the baby and the daily routines. My sister was certain he was more than capable. I also wondered if Mia would be able to handle the separation? Again, my sister was not worried. In fact, it seemed as if Mia was becoming more attached to her father. In the end, it turned out fine. Despite battling a fever for a few days, Mia survived the week, as did her dad. Her Mom was another story. My sister, excited to see her baby girl after a few days away, was more than a little hurt with Mia's response. Mia was happy to see her Mommy, but then turned back to her Daddy.
When there are two involved parents in the picture, most babies will gravitate towards the caregiver that spends the most time with them in the early months. Generally speaking, that's usually the mother. When Devlin was an infant and crying, he was unable to be soothed unless he was in my arms. Once we tried an experiment. The wailing Devlin was in his Daddy's arms. Daddy then made a gesture to place Devlin into my arms. As he came nearer to me, Devlin started to scale down the intensity of his cries. When Daddy snuggled him back against his chest, the crying increased.
As he got older, he was able to be comforted by both Mommy and Daddy, and eventually others, but Mommy was still his number one person. And so she remained, until his little sister came along. Almost overnight, he became Daddy's boy. Unless he was ill or hurt. On those occasions, only Mommy could comfort his troubles.
Similarly, Ceilidh was all about Mommy until Aisling came along. Now she is all about Daddy. In the middle of the night, she cries out for Daddy. She physically wrestles with Devlin to get closer to Daddy. She only inquires of Daddy if he's staying home from work. The only moments where Mommy figures in her line of sight is when she's hurt or sick.
Now that Devlin has to share his numero uno person with Ceilidh, he has become more diplomatic in choosing which parent he favours. If sports are involved, he gravitates to Daddy. If it's anything else, Mommy is selected. If he's feeling sad or tired, Mommy is chosen for cuddles. If it's clear that Ceilidh will be successful in monopolizing Daddy, Mommy is suddenly championed as the greatest ever.
Aisling? Well, she's all Mommy's. Every evening, I am greeted at the door by her smiling face. "Tonight, it's my turn to sleep with you!" she declares as she wraps her arms around my legs. Every evening, she reaches for my lunch bag and hurries into the kitchen to empty the containers into the sink. When Daddy asks about the same service for his lunch bag, she turns away and ignores him. When she requests more milk, another blanket, help with her outfit and someone else jumps up to assist, Aisling refuses their help and adamantly demands Mommy to serve her needs. Last night, she fell asleep cuddled up against me. Her face was pressed close to mine, her sweaty little paw held onto my shoulder, while her feet were tucked in between my legs. As I gazed upon her sleeping face, my heart felt as if it would burst with the emotions running through me.
Some couples are hesitant to have another child because they're unsure if they could love another child as much as they love their first-born. I don't know where or how this argument ever began. It's a very weak and lame excuse to not have another child. As anybody can tell you, there is no finite measurement to the love a parent holds for a child.  You can't quantify the emotions a child inspires. It doesn't matter that Ceilidh would trample over me to get to her father. Or that Devlin would prefer Daddy at hockey practice. Or that Daddy is a distant second to Mommy in Aisling's world. None of that diminishes the intensity of love we have for each child.
Now their misbehaviours...that's another story.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

It's Daddy's special day! The monkeys made a cake and sang a song.

A meeting with Devlin's Teachers

While we had originally requested a meeting to discuss the report card, Devlin's teachers decided to use the pre-arranged meeting to discuss his behaviour. They even asked that Devlin attend the meeting.  I wasn't particularly keen on having Devlin take part in the meeting, but acquiesced to the teachers' requests.
First off, the music teacher wanted it known that Devlin continued to misbehave in his class, but that he was open to any suggestions for improving Devlin's behaviour. Which led me to question exactly what was the nature of the "misbehaviour". Mostly, it was Devlin (and others) who acted silly, or stood up at the inappropriate times, or shouted out answers. Sometimes, when the teacher's back was turned, there would be funny faces. Okay, not the most serious of crimes. In fact, I distinctly recall engaging in similar acts when I was in grade school. My parents were NOT called in. But I digress.
One of difficulties is the timing of the music class. It's scheduled after recess and it's the last period of the day. Of a long day. And the students are seated on the floor. And sometimes Devlin isn't able to partake in a full recess to get rid of his extra energy because he's gotten a detention for some other inappropriate action in the school yard. So, we can't change the scheduling of the class. What next?
The music teacher offered an incentive to Devlin to behave. Perhaps Devlin could perform a song on the piano for his classmates if he behaved for four classes.
"No," Devlin said clearly in a tone that indicated there would be no re-visiting of this suggestion.
Shot down, the music appealed to us, his parents, for any ideas. We suggested the three strikes and a time-out in the back of classroom. We use that method at home, and it works, 7 out of 10 times. Of course, we didn't mention the success, or lack of success, rate.
What bothered me was the admission that Devlin was not the only culprit. When I inquired as to how the other troublesome students were being addressed (for ideas on how to deal with ours), we were rebuffed.
When delving into the issue of his behaviour, it became clear to us that the main problem was Devlin's inability to heed a warning once issued. That was not a surprise. So he's been told not to run around, or to remain seated during lunch, or stop yelling, but he continues. We have the same problem at home, where we need to repeat directives two or three times before it's heeded. In other words, a problem with his listening. There's clearly nothing wrong with his ability to process the information. That was clearly demonstrated when in the middle of the meeting, Devlin raised his hand to be heard.
When we adults turned our attention to him, he asked very innocently, "Is there a listening class at this school?"
Knowing where he was headed, both my husband and I were unsuccessful in masking our snickers.
"Because, if there was a listening class, maybe I could take it and learn how to listen better," Devlin continued earnestly.
Yeah, well, I'd hate to see his marks if there was indeed a listening class.
What was also clear was the majority of behaviours being frowned upon were occurring in a non-class setting. Like lunch time, when the classroom of six year olds are supervised for the part of time but expected to eat and remain seated at their desks. The desks they've been sitting at all morning. Or when he's out in the school yard, running around. Clearly, he's also testing his limits. Like the time he repeated a line he heard from a classmate to another. A phrase not used in our home, and when I advised the teacher that it was not language he had picked up at home, she was surprised. Which then got me thinking, "Does this teacher not understand that children learn from their peers on the playground?"
A few other uncharitable thoughts also popped into my head as the meeting went on, but this is not the forum for that.
While I know that my kid is not a perfect angel, I do think that the expectations being laid out for six year old boys is a tad unreasonable. Even adults can't sit still for long stretches of time. Will we continue to work with our son to modify his behaviour. Of course, but it's a work in progress, for like eighteen years.
At the end of the meeting, I got the distinct impression that we parents shouldn't be satisfied with Devlin's current display of behaviour. But that we should be satisfied with his current level of academic success since he's average. When we asked about ways we could work with Devlin to help surpass the provincial standard to achieve the unrealistic A standard, the teacher was at a loss to provide concrete, constructive suggestions.
Is this really the state of our publicly funded education system?