Devlin's summer of mishaps

It seems like every week that Devlin has had an "accident" or some form of injury.
The first week of summer, there was a bee sting. Or maybe it was a wasp. He's not allergic to insect bites but it kiboshed the afternoon outing to the splash pad because of his hysterics.
Then he tripped over his own two feet, running into the living room. I heard a crash, and then a piercing scream that had my mother and me dropping everything to run over. Devlin was curled up in the fetal position, hands clamped over his eye. When I was able to pry away his hands, there was gigantic bump that appeared to grow larger by the second. An hour or two with the ice pack kept the swelling down, but the black eye was a beauty.
Then the next week, he managed to scrape a good chunk of skin off his heel. How?
Well, in an effort to be creative while recycling, my dear children used the large piece of cardboard from the basketball net backboard and fashioned a triangular shaped tube. They taped it together with duct tape. Then they crawled into the tube and slid down the slide in the backyard.
Yup. He caught his foot on the edge of the slide and cardboard. Maybe he could have avoided the injury if he he had worn shoes.
So he missed his hockey game because it hurt to put on the skates.
I would have thought that would have been enough to teach my kid a lesson.
I was wrong.
The following week, I arrived home one evening to be confronted by Devlin at the door, pulling down his lower lip so I could see the cut up mess he had.
"How?" I asked not really wanting to know the answer, lest it involved having to discipline his younger sisters for being too rough.
Apparently, he banged his lower face, when sliding down, head first, in the STUPID CARDBOARD TUBE!
I looked at my hapless child, my first born for whom I had so many hopes and dreams, and quite calmly, quoted my favorite line from Forrest Gump,  "Stupid is as stupid does".

Quinn's latest defensive/offensive tactic

He may be small, but he's a force to be reckoned with, and not lightly either.

Apparently, Quinn did not like seeing his older brother and Aisling fight. They were likely fighting over the remote control, or who got to sit in the treasured spot on the couch. So there was some fighting - some slaps and pushes and shoves. Then Quinn got involved. He ran over and joined forces with his brother to defeat Aisling. There was definitely some kicking and pulling of hair by Quinn.
I unfortunately did not witness this first hand. Had I been there, all three would have been disciplined appropriately.

But I did get to witness another classic Quinn moment.

He was attempting to get a hold of his older brother's newest Lego creation. Devlin was not pleased, having spent considerable time putting it together. Devlin was sitting at the dining room, with one hand holding the Lego above his head, and the other hand trying to keep Quinn from getting to close.
Screaming, Quinn was trying to reach the toys with both hands but was becoming frustrated with Devlin pushing him away. Alternatively, Devlin had one hand on Quinn's noggin, holding him off from getting any closer.
Once he realized he was not going to get the Lego, Quinn decided to simply show his displeasure and extreme disappointment. He started to lick. With his tongue out, he attacked the chair Devlin was sitting on, and whatever parts of Devlin's body was within reach. Extremely grossed out, Devlin leapt away, leaving behind a few lego peices which Quinn happily picked up.

I watched, and couldn't decide on whether to be stern and discipline or give into the giggles.

Rain, rain, go away!

This weekend SUCKS! That is the refrain I've been hearing over and over again...from my inner voice.
There was a time when I didn't mind rainy weekends, but that was before kids invaded my life. Back then, I would have spent a miserable water logged afternoon curled up on the couch with a good book, a cup of cocoa and a cozy blanket.
Now, a rainy weekend means wracking my brains trying to find a way to entertain my monsters.
It was bad enough that our weekend plans were altered at the last minute. My hopes of keeping the munchkins entertained with other pint sized creatures were dashed when the other family cancelled because of a broken finger. I bounced ideas off of the spouse and office colleagues. Came up with the brilliant plan of taking the kids to a pick your own farm! Great - a day spent doing manual labour in the sun, while reaping fruits (literally) for the week - what could be better? We decided we'd treat the kids to a special brunch out in honour of Ceilidh's 8th birthday, and head out to the farm after tennis lessons. And end the day with a marshmallow roast over a bonfire in the backyard.
Unfortunately, the weather did not cooperate. Apparently the 40% chance of scattered showers became 100%. Tennis was cut short and stomping around in mud for some strawberries didn't seem so appealing after all. What to do with these energetic critters that were bouncing around the house?
Movie! We went to see the new Disney Planes movie - Fire and Rescue. It was great! AC/DC's Thunderstruck played in the background; there was a cheeky poke at the old 80's series "ChiPs"; lots of plane action for the kids - and Quinn kept all entertained with his comments throughout.
And there was hope that Sunday would be a day for the farm.
Nope. It's raining cats and dogs out there. And I've given up trying to clean the house while the monkey are running around creating a mess the moment I move away. So, I'm holed up in the bedroom trying to hide from the chaos, while my offspring are taking advantage of this miserable day. There's a kid playing a video game in the basement. Another one on the laptop playing a game on a website that will surely lead to more viruses on my computer. I think Aisling is watching a Barbie movie on the television, and I'm pretty sure I saw Quinn searching for a candy in the cupboard. The spouse is hiding in his office, surfing the internet.
At some point, I really should venture down and so some parenting. Seeking refuge in the bedroom is probably worse that not watching my kids at the park. Which is a crime in some parts of the United States. I'm sure you've heard the outrage over the woman who was jailed for letting her 9 year old daughter play in the park by herself while she worked at her minimum wage job at a nearby McDonalds. And to think that I let the two girls go to the nearby park last week by themselves, that is, without someone watching over them. Because sometimes I'm sick and tired of going to the park. Because I've got a thousand other tasks to take care of, and few other kids too. Because I know the soon to be 8 year old can be responsible at times. Because I know the park is a two and half minute walk away, and I'd rather they get some exercise and fresh air while I'm getting dinner prepared. Because they were told to return home immediately when their older brother came to give them the signal. Because at some point, I'm going to have cut the apron strings or umbilical cord and trust them. And because it's stupid to think that we can't let our kids be kids and play in a park without parental supervision.
And yes, I'm ranting. Because this weekend's weather SUCKS!

Teaching Empathy

I think the greatest lesson in life is learning empathy - the capacity to recognize the emotions that are being experienced by another, and then to act accordingly. It's not the same as being sympathetic, which is to sorry or compassion for another. I believe that when one is empathetic, one can provide a response that is more suited to the situation, a reaction if you will.It's more than giving a hug to another. It's recognizing that the other is in pain, or hurting, or happy and then finding a way to rectify or support the other during that crisis.
In kids, it's hard to teach either as children are not fully developed in their own awareness, let alone understanding how their actions impact those around them. (Yes, I've taken one or two child psychology courses in my time.)
Without getting into great details and discourses of the why, we've taught our children to apologize for hurting (either physically or emotionally) their siblings and others by providing hugs with their words. When they were very young, we made the offender apologize and hug almost immediately after the wrongful action. As they got older, and knowing the apology would be meaningless without some thought, the offender is asked to think about why they're being asked to apologize. Sometimes, they learn from the mini time-out, other times not so much as I witness the offensive behaviour a short time later.
Despite our unscientific method of dealing with our monkeys, sometimes I see moments of true tenderness and empathy from them. One night, all three older kids took turns reading a story to Quinn. Another evening as I getting ready for bed, I overheard Aisling trying to teach Quinn to sound out the letters of the alphabet.
Quinn, as the baby is often spoiled by not only me (yes I am the biggest culprit) but also by his siblings. More often than not, it's because we don't want to hear him cry. So, everyone gives into his demands, even the unreasonable ones. Just to avoid listening to the cries and the ensuing temper tantrum, his siblings will tune into the Power Rangers or Animal Mechanics, or hand over whatever toy they were playing with. I know this will only encourage his spoiled brat behaviour.
But the other night, I witnessed Quinn mimicking his elder siblings. Both Aisling and Quinn were in the tub, along with a gazillion cars. Aisling had none, and went to reach for a car. Quinn gathered them up close to his soapy body. Aisling pretended to cry, letting out a wailing sob. Quinn immediately offered her the cars.
It's not just Quinn who can be empathetic.
Last night, I fell ill with whatever bug the kids brought home. Not violently ill, but under the weather enough that I wanted to crawl into bed at 7pm and not wake up. So I did.
At some point, I felt kisses and gentle hugs from my kids. And whispers of "I hope you feel better". I felt Quinn curling up to me and placing his head on my shoulder.
In the morning, Ceilidh asked, "Did you throw up last night, Mommy?"
"No," I answered with a groan.
"Good job Mommy! You're going to be better then!" she praised while patting me on the head.