The Pressure of a Name

I felt immense pressure when picking our kids names. Mikie was easy since we knew we wanted him to be another Michael, but not a junior.  So, we just had to find a middle name that went with "Michael".  Rule #1 in the name game was that the combined first and middle name had to roll effortlessly off the tongue when yelled from the bottom of the stairs. For example:  Michael Jedediah is a mouthful which could lead to further anger that I can't appropriately scold my child, but Michael Christopher borders on lyrical when yelled. 

Naming Hannah was even more challenging because there were more rules.  Rule #2:  must sound professional when listed on a resume. For example, I loved the name Becca. Not as a nickname for Rebecca, but as a stand alone name. But, do you hire a Becca?  Or, do you assume she's ditzy for using what you assume can only be a nickname on her resume?  And, Rule #3:  must sound good (and ideally look aesthetically pleasing) when written on a wedding invitation. Rule #4:  cannot remind either of us of past girlfriends or females who annoyed me (that narrowed out quite a few). Most importantly, Rule #5:  initials cannot spell a word or stand for anything. I went to school with a girl whose initials spelled CAT, and it annoyed me to no end that people tried to claim my initials spelled LAMB. I constantly corrected them that there was no B in my name, to no avail. Little did they know that LAM was also a word (we were 9).  

Mike imposed rules of his own.  Rule #6:  must not be the most popular name. Despite his desire for "Michael" to retake its long held position as #1 boys name, he hated the confusion that I sued at the pediatrician so when they called "Michael", and five people stood up. Thus, I begrudgingly eliminated "Emma". Rule #7:  must be gender specific. This eliminated Madison, Kennedy, and Reagan. And, his family also weighted in that the name shouldn't sound too exotic, since it needs to go with "Michael Christopher". Which is how Kiera got the axe. 

When you look at all of these rules, it's amazing Hannah has one. Mikie ultimately came to the rescue with her first name. Evidently, there was a Hannah in his preschool who "was nice". And, I always felt that our parents did a good job picking our names. Until last night's conversation with Hannah...

Hannah:  "Mom, what was your name when you were a kid?"

Me:  <slightly confused were this is going> "Lauren.  McLaughlin."

Hannah:  <pauses>."That's a weird name."

Me:  "Why do you say that?"

At this point, I'm expecting her to say it sounds like a boy's name, which I got a lot growing up (thank you, Ralph Lauren). But, that isn't where her head is at all...

Hannah:  "It doesn't sound like a kid name.  It's to serious. It sounds like a grown-up name."

Me:  <thinking Lauren was infinitely better than my grandmother's and her sister's names:  Muriel and Gertrude> "Well, all grown-ups were kids once, so every kid name is a grown-up name."

Needless to say, she did not seem convinced by this argument. Sorry, Mom & Dad. Your granddaughter found you lacking in the name department. Although, she seems to think you redeemed yourself with Katie's name. 

I can only imagine what she will name her own kids...

Love, The Trahans

I Live Here

A few weeks ago, we were driving in the car to the beach in Rhode Island and the following conversation occurred.

Hannah:  "When can we have another sleepover with Arc?  Today?"

Me:  "I don't know. We'll see. Not today."

Mike:  <only half listening> "Wait...what is she asking about?  Why can't she have a sleepover with Mikie?"

Me:  "Not, Mikie.  Archangelo."

Mikie:  "Yeah. I already live here."

In Mike's defense, he had gotten maybe four hours of sleep because he had to stay up all night with the plumbers after our sump pump died in the middle of the night.  But, it is funny that Mikie felt that he needed to remind his father that he lives with us.

A few days later, a similar conversation occurred over dinner.

Mikie:  "Did you see the package I brought inside for you?"

Me:  "Yes. Thanks."

Mikie:  "I was walking home and met the UPS driver.  He was getting out of the truck and I said, 'Hey, I live here' so he gave me the package. 

Based on the number of times he's said, "I live here", I wonder if he worries we're going to evict him.

Love, The Trahans

The Eye Shadow Incident of 2016

I remember being a kid and desperately wanting to wear makeup. But, my mother insisted "not until you're in high school", which was in part because I went to Catholic grammar school and the nuns didn't allow it. But, in hindsight, I also believe was because I was too young. So, I'm not surprised that at seven, Hannah wants to wear makeup. But, unlike me, Hannah doesn't just accept that "mom said no" and count down to her freshman year of high school...

Mikie has been battling an epic bout of croup/sinus infection that kept him out of school earlier this week. I stayed home with him and, since Mike was stuck in traffic, went to pick Hannah up at after-care. Imagine my surprise when I walked in to find my daughter with blue eyeshadow smeared (unevenly) all over her eyelids up to her brow bone like Mimi from the Drew Carey show. 

Because Mikie and I were at the doctor's, I didn't see her before she left for school. But I was 90% positive that Mike didn't condone the use of makeup. 

Me:  "Why are you wearing makeup?!?"

Hannah:  "Victoria said I could use it."

Now, I don't know who Victoria is, a friend, a staff member at the after-care program, an older kid.  But, since I vividly remember pushing this red-headed minx out of my body seven years ago, I am 100% certain she is NOT Hannah's mother.  

I managed to control my rage enough to curtly tell Hannah to grab her things and exit the building before I started yelling. 

Me:  "You KNOW you are not allowed to wear makeup."

Hannah:  "I forgot."

Me:  "That's a lie and you know it."

Hannah:  "Well, I know how to take it off.  It's easy."

Me:  <insulted> "I KNOW how to remove makeup!  I used to MAKE makeup for a living. I can MAKE that eyeshadow!  That's not the point. You're seven...SEVEN!  You are too young to wear makeup. Not to mention that when you ARE old enough to wear makeup, you NEVER share someone else's makeup. Eyeshadow is UNPRESERvED. It is susceptible to microbial growth. You could get pink eye!"

Hannah:  <not smart enough to keep quiet while I yell> "What's microbial growth?"

Me:  "Germs.  You're missing the point. The point is, you are not allowed to wear makeup."

By this point we had arrived at home. Hannah went inside while I stayed outside and tried to calm down. 

I walked inside to find Hannah at the kitchen table working on her homework with Mike, acting like nothing was amiss.  

Me:  "Did you SEE what you're daughter is wearing?"

Mike looks Hannah up and down while she innocently bats her eyelashes at him, as if silently saying, "I don't know what she's talking about. I'm an angel. Mom's crazy."

Mike:  <with a confused look on his face> "No?"

Me:  "EYESHADOW?!?  How can you miss the blue eyeshadow?!?"

So, we had a talk about not needing to wear makeup to be pretty. Obviously led by Mike, the more rational parent. I was too busy envisioning Hannah as Sarah Jessica Parker in "Girls Just Want to Have Fun", smuggling slutty outfits out of the house in her backpack and changing the minute my back is turned. 

While I wish I had a picture to add to this post, I refused to take one, since it would cement in her head that, although weSAID no, we secretly found it funny, and she could get away with it again. So, you'll just have to use your imagination. 

If this is seven, God help us when she is a teenager...

Love, The Trahans

Mikie's Winter Concert

Last month, Mikie's school held it's winter concert.  It was the first time he performed with the Middle School Band.  It is a much larger group than fourth and fifth grade band (in part because the middle school is made up of two elementary schools).  What they lack in control (especially volume control) they more than make up for in enthusiasm.  And, as you can see at the end of the first piece, Mikie is extremely comfortable in front of an audience. . . taking a bow with the conductor when he should be sitting with the rest of the band.

They are currently working on a medley of Star Wars pieces for the spring concert.  Mikie is thrilled because one of the pieces is the song from the cantina, which prominently features the oboe.  Should prove to be as entertaining as "Secret Agent, Sugar Plum".

Love, The Trahans

Kids Say the Darndest Things

SUPER MIKIE

Over dinner one evening (not going to lie. . . it was at TGI Fridays), Mikie started a game of "Would you rather" to pass the time.  For anyone unfamiliar with this game, you ask people "would you rather or " Mikie likes to change it up by asking the question than guess what the person's response will be.  

Mike:  (to Mikie) "Would you rather have super strength or be super smart?"

Mikie:  "I have my answer."

Mike:  "I guess you'll pick super smart."

Mikie:  "I'm already super smart, so I picked super strength."

While we tried to control our laughter, he added, "and super modest."

PRINCESS HANNAH

Last night, Hannah was reading one of her practice readers to me, entitled "Max Goes Fishing".  In the story, Max goes fishing with his grandpa, but is frustrated because only little fish keep nibbling at his bait.  He wants to catch a BIG fish.  Half way through the story, Hannah reads the following line:

Hannah:  "'Go away, little fish!"

Hannah:  (looking at me) "That's not very complimentary."

Me:  "It wasn't meant to be a compliment.  It was meant to be an order or a command.  'Go away, little fish!'"

Hannah:  "You can't order people to do something.  Unless you're a princess and you are ordering your maid or servant."

And suddenly, our relationship becomes crystal clear:  I thought I was the queen and she was the princess, but obviously, I am the maid.  

This is Hannah

This is Hannah.  Hannah doesn't care that the gymnastics teacher said, "don't use your hands".  She doesn't care that she said, "stop BEFORE you get to the red mat."  Hannah is comfortable with her lack of core muscles and is going to do what she wants anyway.  Hannah is convinced everything she does is FABULOUS; everybody just needs to realize it should be done HER way.  Hannah is confident. . . sometimes to a flaw.  But, she definitely owns it.

Mom's Not Here Right Now

Being in middle school, Mikie is now a latch key kid.  Or, that's what he would be called if this was the '80s.  We live within a two mile radius of the middle school (just under one mile), so he walks home from school (or rides his bike), lets himself in, makes a snack and does his homework before killing his brain cells with video games.  

Shortly after school started, we learned that he was answering the phone when people would call, not knowing that the only people who call after school are usually telemarketers.  I was appalled one day to here him tell someone a story, "This guy called, and I told him he had the wrong number.  Then he called AGAIN, so I told him the number he called was xxx-xxx-xxxx and that he needed to check what he dialed.  But, he called a THIRD time, and I told him to stop calling because he had the wrong number and my parents weren't home."  I was annoyed that I hadn't taught him "stranger danger" and to not answer the phone when your parents weren't home, to NEVER tell people you were home alone.  All things that, as a latch key kid of the 80s (or maybe a kid whose parents were born and raised in NY) you were told to do for fear of being abducted.  I never taught my kid to fear people because I didn't want them to be paranoid.

Obviously, we've had honest conversations since then.  It hasn't kept Mikie from going up to strangers and petting 15 dogs in the park on the way home from school.  But, he no longer answers the phone.  And, when he does, he knows not to say, "my mom's not home."  

Well, today, the doorbell rang.  I was multitasking:  talking on the phone while putting a load of laundry in the dryer, so Pavlov's dogs (aka, Mikie and Hannah) went running from door to door, in a race to see who was there.  When they determined it wasn't one of their friends, Mikie said, "Mom, it's for you."  Again, multitasking, so I yelled, "Just answer it and I'll be there in a minute."  I assumed it was someone polling for Hillary or Bernie in advance of the primaries.  Nope.  Jehovah's Witnesses.  And, from the bathroom/laundry closet, I can hear Mikie open the door, saying, "My mom's busy in the bathroom. . . doing laundry."  Amazingly, they just looked at each other, handed him a pamphlet while smiling awkwardly, and walked away.  Even as he yelled after them, "She'll be right back!"

Lesson learned:  Overly honest children are a great deterrent to unwanted solicitors.  

Love, The Trahans

Friends in Fancy Places

...also known as "The Adventures of Mikie and the Jewelry Store, Part II".

If you haven't met my son, he has an ability to befriend anyone in seconds.  I love telling the story about the cable guy.  When we lived in our last house, we were having issues with our cable.  Mike was at home with the Comcast guy when Mikie and I arrived home from work/daycare.  He couldn't have been more than four, because Super Nibbles didn't exist yet.  I went upstairs to change out of my work clothes, leaving the men folk downstairs.  When I came downstairs, I found Mikie in the office, chatting with the Comcast guy, telling him his life story and inviting him to his birthday party (which, was months away).  Mike said, "I've been here with the guy for 45 minutes; couldn't tell you his name.  Mikie walks in and, not only does he find out the guys name, he knows how long he's been working for Comcast, if he's married and has kids."  As for the birthday party invite, that's the sign you know he likes you.  He makes friends with perfect strangers at a rest stop in NJ; when we leave, he asks if he can invite them to his birthday party.

But, I digress.  The Jewelry Store.  Last week, Mike picked Mikie up after school on Friday, and took him into town to get his haircut.  Our town has municipal parking lots that require paying to park (which, is far less annoying than the cash-only meters we've seen in other towns).  Being "thrifty" and having already paid to park, Mike suggested they walk to CVS afterwards.  A walk which led right by the jewelry store.

Obviously, Mikie suggested they, "go in and say, 'hi'."  Mike was less enthusiastic and gave the "maybe after CVS" response.  So, you can imagine what happened "after CVS". . . they went to the jewelry store.

This time, I had the pleasure of Mike recounting the story.  Evidently, they walked in to the store to find a female sales associate helping an older lady.  Mike described her as "someone who was easily going to spend a couple thousand dollars."  But, upon seeing Mikie, she asked the woman to "excuse her for a moment" so she could greet Mikie and regale Mike with her side of the story.  According to Mike, my guess was pretty accurate.  The woman describes Mikie arriving in the store and the MANAGER asking all of the associates for ideas on how they could help him spend $25.  At this point, Mikie interrupted to point out it was actually $34 he had to spend, that extra $9 making all the difference.

The story ends with her telling Mike what a wonderful son we have and what a wonderful husband they all thought he'd make some day.

No word yet on if the staff are invited to his birthday party.  I guess we'll find out in September.

Love,
The Trahans

A Pleasant Surprise

Typically, by the time I get home from work, my two minions (or at least Hannah) accost me before I've even removed my coat and put down my bag to ask, "what's for dinner?" or "can we eat out?" So, Friday was a pleasant turn of events.

Don't get me wrong, I was still accosted the second I walked in the door.  But, this time, it was a race to see my reaction to the present my son bought me. . . the present that came from the jewelry store in town.  And, no, it wasn't my birthday.

It all started with my husband's love of hockey.  Former Bruin's player, Bob Sweeney, visited Mikie's middle school class to present the Future Goals:  Hockey Scholar Program, which is a joint initiative between Everfi and the NHL.  Knowing that Mike is a fan, Mikie tried to get the guy's autograph, as did a number of students.  Unfortunately, Bob didn't have enough time to sign autographs for everyone, so he (wisely) didn't sign any autographs.  Feeling bad, he sent bags of Bruins stuff (posters, stickers, etc.) to the kids after the fact.  Specifically, on Friday.

Now, I don't think I've ever complained to my kids about not getting a present when someone else gets a present. Exception:  my birthday.  Because it's on Valentine's Day, my sister always got presents, a fact I continue to joke about today (which manifests itself as a need for multiple presents from my husband).  But, for some reason, my son thought it would be unfair to bring home a free bag of Bruins miscellany for my husband without bringing home a gift for Hannah and I.  So, after school, he decided to use the cash he had in his wallet to go shopping.

There are limited options in the center of town:  CVS, some wedding boutiques, some clothing boutiques, a book store (which is hidden behind some other shops), some hair salons, and a massive jewelry store.  And, this is where my son decided to shop.

Picture it:  Into an upscale jewelry store with staff members in suits and dresses walks an 11 year old boy.  He is wearing athletic pants, winter coat, and snow boots carrying a book bag and his oboe.  He struts in like there is nothing unusual about his presence in an upscale jewelry store and boldly asks, "So, what can I buy for less than $34?"  Can you imagine the looks on their faces?  A mixture of confusion, disdain, and amusement for this child that, I'm sure they thought was intentionally trying to waste their time.  I imagine someone asked who he was shopping for, which prompted Mikie to deliver his lengthy story.  He was shown "silver and bronze hoop earrings", which he rejected because he "wasn't sure if you had your ears pierced."  (Typical male to not notice these details. . . Hannah could tell you not only that my ears are pierced, but what my earrings look like).  Then he was shown charms.  He settled on a pearl topped ice-cream cone because, "everyone likes ice cream and it can remind you of how sweet your family is."  This, after rejecting the watering can charm because he "thought it would be a cruel joke given your inability to keep plants alive."

Long story short, 2016 will forever stand out in my mind as the year that Mikie graduated from gifting me macaroni necklaces to actual jewelry.  Although it wasn't something I would have picked for myself, and I felt guilty that he spent $26 on a gift that I didn't need, I found a white gold chain to match and dutifully wear it. . . as a reminder of the sweet boy who bought it for me.

 

Incidentally, Hannah was gifted a lollipop, possibly a gift with purchase from the same store, which she quickly consumed to avoid the risk that Mikie might take it back.

Love, The Trahans

What I Learned In School

Our school district runs a speaker series with speakers on topics they think parents of school age children will be interested in.  This month, the topic was "Brain Development and Your Child's Executive Functioning".

Since Mikie was diagnosed with ADHD years ago, I've been obsessed with brain development.  I've read books on learning styles (back when I was in denial that he had ADHD) to brain development and alternative ADHD treatments.  Not having an abstract, I was expecting to hear about what age your child hits certain milestones to help balance expectations and how to foster good executive function habits.

Here's what I actually learned. . .

If you don't know, executive function are skills we develop to manage emotions, pay attention, organize and plan.  A common analogy is that the executive function is the equivalent of the brain's air traffic control tower. Not surprisingly, you can have students with high IQs who do poorly in school if academic demands outpace their executive function development.  And, conversely, you can have a student with average intelligence who excels in school if they have strong executive function.

That was the first ten minutes.  The next hour was a discussion of each aspect of executive function and what signs of a deficiency in each aspect look like.  As each aspect was presented, we were supposed to grade ourselves on a five point scale of "strong" to "weak".  Here's what I learned:

1. I have executive function issues, especially when it comes to organization.  
2. I don't think that everything the lecturer identified as "weaknesses" are actually "weaknesses" in today's society where we are encouraged to "think outside the box" and "multi-task".  Case in point, I think it is a strength that I can listen to something someone says and think of five completely random ideas.  This probably means I am metacognitively deficient as well because I refuse to understand and accept my weaknesses.  
3. Some parents feel compelled to talk so that they can get verbal agreement from the lecturer. Not only am I not one of those parents, I hate those parents.
4. Attending a lecture is not like going to the movies.  It is to your detriment to sit in the middle row, middle seat, because it makes it challenging to sneak out in the middle of the lecture when you realize it is a waste of your time.

After some parent took a picture with her camera phone of how to make blinders for your kid when studying using tri-fold poster board (seriously, you couldn't remember that without the photo?!?), I decided to make a break for it.  Karma being what it is, I got into the parking lot and started panicking when I couldn't find my keys.  Rifling through my purse, half convinced they fell out of my purse in the auditorium, I finally found them.  Only to find myself standing in the parking lot for another five minutes trying to figure out where I parked.  I literally stood in the middle of two empty spaces, pressing the "lock" button on my key ring, listening to the car honk, trying desperately to figure out where the sound was coming from.  The answer:  immediately to my left.  No lie, there were no cars separating me from my vehicle, only my absentmindedness.  Evidently, this was the universe's way of laughing at my deficiencies in organization and memory.

In spite of my issues, I continue to function in society.  Probably because my husband puts tracking devices on all the important things I could misplace.

I'm Bringing Blogging Back

Due to consumer demand, I've decided that my 2016 New Year Resolution is to resurrect the blog. I stopped because we were moving, I was still settling into a new job...basically, a million excuses that haven't been valid for a couple of years.

So, without further ado, a quick update of what's happened since 2013.

We Bought a House

If you saw our first house in Maryland and our second house, you were probably expecting us to buy another colonial.  And, you would be wrong.  We ended up in (drumroll please). . . a Cape.  Which, although spacious versus many Capes we looked at seemed like we moved into tiny house nation compared to the 2,800 sq. ft. colonial we moved out of.  Unanimously, everyone's response when they first see it is, "It's so cozy".  "Cozy" being the politically correct way of saying, "wow, it's SMALL."

Losing 600 sq. ft. (1 bedroom, 1 bathroom, and a separate office) meant we had a LOT of stuff that didn't have a home.  No lie, we still have stuff in boxes that we didn't have a place for.  At this point, it's mostly pictures/artwork (my OCD husband having trashed/donated/sold all the furniture within the first year).

I won't bore you with all the gory details of things we've done to the house.  We immediately replaced the tacky, painter's tape blue shutters with new black shutters, and repainted the doors from blue to red because I couldn't stand the assault to my senses after getting home from work.  And there was some serious paint changes to the kitchen and master bedroom.  But, otherwise, most of our money has gone to replacing appliances, repairs from the blizzards of February 2015, and adding insulation.

Mikie Switched Schools. . . AGAIN

Between all the moves, Mikie is currently in his fifth school between kindergarten and now. Sixth grade. . . three states. . . five schools.  And we're not even in the military.  Thankfully, he's still an easy going, affable kid who makes friends with everyone.  In fact, the day we moved into the house, he not only made friends with all the boys in the neighborhood, he invited three of them over for pizza.  Somehow, the fact that the kitchen was full of unpacked boxes is not a deterrent to entertaining when you are a 9 year old boy. 

He took up the oboe so he could join the band.  To date, I still have no idea WHY he chose the oboe over every other instrument he could have picked.  And, I wish we had researched the oboe before we let our naive enthusiasm about the fact that he was interested in playing ANY instrument run away with us.  After the fact, we learned that (a) the oboe is one of the hardest instruments to master because it uses a double reed, (b) those reeds are good for 8 hours of playtime and cost a fortune, and (c) because so few people play it, oboe teachers are hard to come by.  But, he enjoys playing, so we try not to complain too loudly about making the weekly drive to New Hampshire for oboe lessons.

And, in the category of expensive hobbies, Mikie has resumed hockey.  Given the cost of ice time, playing on a team is not cheap.  Like, $2400 not cheap.  So, when we moved, we conveniently didn't find a hockey team.  And, the next fall, we focused on soccer.  Basically, we pretended hockey didn't exist in Andover for 2 1/2 years.  Until one day, at the end of soccer season, we asked Mikie if he wanted to try-out for the traveling soccer team.  His response, "I actually don't like soccer; I just want to play hockey."  Parenting fail!  Riddled with guilt, we got him signed up as an alternate on the team.  

The Tiny Diva Starts School

While Mikie excels in middle school and slowly bankrupts us with his extracurricular activities, Hannah is adjusting to school.  Overall, she loves school.  But, diva that she is, she thinks she already knows everything.  A common response to, "Did you learn anything new at school today?" is "No, I already know more than Mrs. ______."  Parent teacher meetings include comments like, "If I were to step out of the classroom, I have no doubt that Hannah will take over."  We're still working on helping her realize the universe doesn't revolve around her.  We're also working on not alienating others by telling the teacher when they do something you don't approve of.  And, not killing her brother.

Hannah has her own litany of activities too.  She swims at the YMCA after school twice a week.  She does gymnastics on weekends.  When we don't have snow and ice on the ground, she is always biking around the cul-de-sac.  And, this year, Mike set up the ice rink outside, so she's been learning to skate/play hockey.   

I Became an Aunt

In my top ten of life's great moments, I became an aunt.  My Teddy Bear (aka, Ted, T-Bear, T-Diddy) was born almost two years ago.  Hands down, I am his favorite aunt (ignore the fact that I am also his only aunt. . . I'd still be his favorite if there was a competition).  Much to all our chagrin, he still lives in the south with my sister and brother-in-law.  Although, as adorable as he is, Mike reminds me that we both have zero desire to change diapers and get up in the middle of the night.  So, we content ourselves with conversations via phone, FaceTime and the twice a year visit. 

Which brings us to the present.  January 2016.  To new, hopefully entertaining, posts.

Happy New Year!

Love, The Trahans