Have They Found the Pessimism Gene Yet?

From the moment he was born, everyone remarked how much our oldest looks like my husband. I could always see a few traits from my side of the family, but if we were in a crowd, people would identify the two of them as belonging together before me.

When our second son came along, there was nothing familiar about him. The scant fuzz with a strawberry-blond tint came from nowhere (unless you want to count my step-dad or Hubs adopted sister!). The chubby-cheeks and bulky build, the widow's peak hairline...if I hadn't been there when he arrived and knew he'd never left the room, I would have insisted they brought me someone else's baby.

He's five now, and there are still days when I look at him and think, "Where did you come from?" People will often say he 'favors' me in the way his brother does their dad. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that it's not his physical traits that resemble mine.

The older he gets and the more he expresses himself (and express himself he does!), the more I feel like I'm looking into a funhouse mirror that turned me into a little curly-haired, blue eyed boy with a temperament that is a reflection of all my worst traits. If it's true that the things that bother us most in others are the things we dislike most about ourselves, then I'm beginning to realize that maybe I haven't grown as much as I want to believe I have.

While he wakes up with a smile, it doesn't take long before the lips turn to a pout and the voice comes out a whine. After school, or the park, or a playdate, if we ask how things went, we're regaled with a litany of his friends' faults, perceived injustices, and otherwise simply unhappy occurrences.

I started to catch on to this after most of the school year passed, and decided to try a modified version of my husband's "What's good about it?" method of conversation modification. When greeted with a tale of woe at the hands of a classmate, I'd prod him to tell me something he likes about them.

The result is a lot like mine probably was at the beginning. "I can't think of anything." But just like I learned to start looking for something good to say in response to the question, "What's good about it?" I'm hoping that he'll begin to make it a point to remember the good things too.

And it's a reminder to me that the very best way I can help him be the positive, happy kid that I believe he's meant to be, is to model that behavior to him. To be quick to find the good in people and situations, and quicker to keep the converse to myself. I know I've grown in that, but I really need to keep working on it and demonstrating it.

And I need to encourage and praise him when he is happy and kind and generous more than I am exasperated with his whining and grumbling.

And someday, when someone says he's just like me, I hope we'll both take it as a compliment!

On voting. (No politics allowed)

"Hey Hun, I'm heading over to Roger's* garage to vote."

"Where's Roger's Garage? I've never heard of a mechanic's shop as a polling place."

"No, not Roger's Garage, Roger's garage...the garage at Roger's house. That's where our polling place is."

Ok, so that fictitious conversation didn't really take place after breakfast this morning, but it could have. The only places I've ever cast a ballot has been a school or a church.

Have you ever walked down the block to vote in your neighbor's garage? Maybe it's commonplace, but when I flipped over my sample ballot to see which school to report to, I was really surprised to see the location read "Garage, 123 Main St."

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You'd think that maybe we live in a one horse, one-school, no-church town or something that we have to resort to having voters report to their neighbor's garage, but nope. Nearly 90,000 people, most in single family homes (so it's not like we're so densely urban there's no choice!). I live less than 1/2 mile from at least 5 schools, and probably as many churches.

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But, even though it's not the posh accomodations of the school library, after I drop Boo at preschool, I'll be heading over to 'Roger's garage' to cast my ballot.

What about you? Have you voted?

I remember turning 18 just days before the deadline to register for that year's presidential election. I'd had political opinions since the campaign to elect Snoopy for President when I was in first or second grade. I was really excited to finally be able to contribute my little opinion to the fray.

Eight years ago, a newly-minted American-citizen friend of mine got to cast his first vote for an American president. I was touched by the sobriety of the experience for him. To have come from a nation where elections are more sham than sure, it meant the world to him to join the democratic process of his chosen home. Sadly, the import of it all was lost on most of our peers.

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Now that Civics education is not a priority in schools**, I'm afraid the generation or two behind me is losing the significance of being able to voice our opinions at the polls. We're far enough away from changing the constitution to allow ALL American citizens the vote, regardless of gender, ancestry, etc. that I think we've lost some of the sense of absolute privilege that we share.

I know there's some sentiment that "one vote doesn't count," especially in the shadow of 'hanging chad's' and such, but ask the citizens of Washington if a handful of votes really makes a difference.

I lived in Washington in 2004 when the gubernatorial race was decided by 129 votes after counting, recounting and recounting the recount. I didn't feel like showing up to the polls that night. Hubs had to work late, I was sick and had a squirrely one year old to bring with me. But I kept hearing "if you don't vote you have no right to complain" in my head. I dragged myself and Bug down the road (in the rain of course, it was Washington after all) to cast my ballot.

As the days dragged into nearly 6 weeks before the election was called, I was glad that I had done my one little part. If just the equivalent of the people from my church stayed home (or showed up) that night, the outcome could have been totally different.

I'm not going to get into the issues or the candidates or anything like that. I'm just going to voice my point of view that however flawed our system may be with the popular vote not necessarily declaring the outcome if the electorate goes differently, or because we vote in garages instead of hallowed halls, I am grateful for the opportunity and I hope you'll join me at the polls.

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1 Peter 2:13-17

Submit yourselves for the Lord's sake to every authority instituted among men: whether to the king, as the supreme authority, or to governors, who are sent by him to punish those who do wrong and to commend those who do right. For it is God's will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish men. Live as free men, but do not use your freedom as a cover-up for evil; live as servants of God. Show proper respect to everyone: Love the brotherhood of believers, fear God, honor the king.

I'd love to hear about your voting experiences, but please don't post any comments with political points of view or candidate preferences. That's not really the point here.

* Not his real name.

**I have no idea what's on the rest of this site and don't endorse or dispute any of the content; I just thought this particular article addressed the topic well.

"But they might laugh at me"

I figured one of the pluses of having two children of the same gender was getting to use some of my favorite wardrobe pieces from the first a second time.

So when it was finally cool enough on Sunday to wear long pants, I happily went to the bin and got two of my favorite pairs of pants that Bug wore first. One is a cute plaid in nice fall colors and the other is navy with white whales embroidered on them. Boo wanted nothing to do with either one.

"But they might laugh at me." I never expected to hear that from my almost 3 year old boy as he fought my clothing choices for church and preschool!

I couldn't help but wonder where he got that sense of self-consciousness at such a young age! First, I don't know that anyone has ever laughed at him. He does get lots of comments about how cute he is (especially the strawberry blond curls). And since I can still get away with it at this point, I admit to dressing Bug and Boo alike on occasion, which engenders more attention of the "look how cute" sort.

Funny that he's self conscious about what he wears and kind of wanting to blend-in in that sense when he doesn't seem the least bit aware of the attention he garners as he runs full tilt through the church or makes his astonishingly loud chirping/screeching/shouting boy noises.

While I'm sad that many of my favorite plaid pants and hawaiian shirts (not worn together!) may ultimately only be really nice hand-me-downs for some other adorable preppy-style boy, I'm more sad that he's not even three but he's already influenced by what other people think.

I never expected to have to start to work on my preschool son's sense of independence and confidence. He's outgoing and strong willed and imaginative and bold. And surprisingly sensitive to other's opinions of him. I'm not really sure what to do with that.

His brother has never had trouble not 'following the crowd' if he doesn't want to. He still needs to be reminded of the right choice from time to time, but he's not easily persuaded to do something he's already decided against. I love that about him because I can relate so well. (And I hope that some of that might rub off on his little brother as they get older.)

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I think we might need to read some stories about Daniel and David. The Philistines did laugh at David, but he still took down the giant. With the right perspective, I know my bold, fearless Boo could slay giants too.

(btw--is it terrible of me that I found a way to get him to wear some of the clothes? He's all about skating--as in skateboards--yes, I have a 3 year old wannabe skate punk! I got him to give in to the cute palm tree bermuda shorts by calling them "board shorts" and telling him that they're the kinds of shorts that skateboarders wear. Bad mom?)

Love at first bite

Last night's bedtime conversation with Bug:

B-"What would happen if I bit Boo's arm off?"

M-"Well, that would hurt him a lot and then you'd have to help him with lots of stuff since he'd only have one arm to use." (Lame answer, but that's not one of the "talks to have with your children" answers that I already have planned out!)

B-"Could he die?"

M-"Yes, he could if he lost enough blood. I guess it would depend on how quick we got him to the hospital."

Keeping in mind this is my very sweet-tempered, gentle-natured, non-aggressive son (he's much more likely to be bitten than do the biting), after a few moments of silence I thought to continue, "Why do you ask?"

B-"Because I love him so much that sometimes I just want to bite his arm off!"

Hmm...didn't see that one coming!

I do often tell Bug "I love you to pieces." I wonder if this is what he pictures when I say that? I think I'm gonna have to find a new way of expressing myself!

We interrupt your regularly scheduled reading...

...for some random information. I was tagged by the lovely Lylah to post 7 things about myself, some random, some weird (are the weird things not random?). Since I haven't been around here long, nearly everything about me fits into "random" or "weird," so I thought it would be a good way to get a little better acquainted.

1. I was born in Michigan and lived there until I was 8.
2. Since we left Michigan, I've lived in every state on the west coast (unless you count Alaska or Hawaii as "West Coast." In that case, this fact would be invalid).
3. Growing up, I was the shy, smart one and my sister was the cute, funny one. I think she grew up to be smarter than me, but at least I'm not so shy any more.
4. DH and I were married 1 month shy of the date we met 5 years previous. (Yes we dated that whole time. Well, except for the two days we were broken up before he proposed. And yes, we both agree now that 5 years is too long to date unless you meet when you're a teenager.)
5. We waited 8 1/2 years to start a family (until DS was finished with seminary). We have two boys, Bug and Boo, ages 5 and 2 1/2.
6. I'm a SAHM/WAHM (my work is intermittent), but prior to this my resume included: telemarketer (selling photography sessions for a Little League fundraiser), housewares and office products retail sales, summer camp worker, TV news production, Kirby (vacuum) sales, software QA supervisor, card catalog filer (when there was still such a thing as a card catalog), Fraud and Security supervisor, corporate recruiter and HR Director.
7. My new favorite place to blog is Panera. They've only been around here for about a month. I love to come for an iced tea (and maybe a cookie...or if I'm hungry a Strawberry Poppyseed Salad) and hang out here making the most of the free WiFi.

So, I'll post the rest of the rules for the tagging:

1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

I don't want to tag anyone who doesn't want to be tagged (or who may have already been tagged but I missed it), so I'm going to alter the rules just a little. If you'd like to participate and share some random info on your blog, leave me a comment saying to check out your 7 random facts and then link back here on your blog. I'll add a link to yours to this post.