Hands Full of Rocks

Oh, boy! Girls have noticed The Boyo... (again/still)

So, Mr G has a wee problem.

He's cute.

Oh, such a problem to have, but given the 12-year-old-girl-hormones-thing, and his tendency to think in terms of 'I am an island unto myself', we have something of a challenge on our hands!

Ah, but the fun, too!

Maybe not so much for him, as he finds it disturbing (though also gratifying by the smile he couldn't quite suppress) to have girls come up and just stand there watching him on the playground. Or talking to him about his hair. Or hearing from his friends that so-and-so likes him.

When he says 'likes me' the sound has italics. 

LIKES. Like, uh, 'that kind of like'. AHHHHH! he says, run away!

He's confounded.

Not sure what to do.

Flattered.

Weirded out.

A bit overwhelmed.

All of that.

And he's Mr G. So he didn't at first buy it - were girls really that hot over him?

So he tested the theory. He went and sat by himself on the playground. Looked pensive, and thoughtful, and solitary. Girls kind of wandered nearer and waved and smiled. The way he said it sounded like they giggled, too, though he didn't say so.

He was freaked a bit by it.

So I told him he had a simple solution - stop sitting by himself looking pensive.

Heh. Kind of like saying 'if it hurts, stop doing it'.

He didn't find that so funny. Darn.

Anyway, we've been talking the last few days as a result, about the Girl Thing. And the Girlfriend Thing.

He was thrilled with the idea that he could use us Parents as a stick to beat them back with. Mr G, if a girl starts getting to the 'would you go out with me/be my boyfriend' level of conversation, you have my direct permission to say, 'Sorry, my parents won't let me have a girlfriend until I'm (whatever age he chooses to say, I suggested 14 was a fair start).'

They might argue or pout or count him out as too reliant on his parents, but hey, still problem solved.

And in the meantime? We talked about how to be friends with a girl. Talked about asking her questions, being nice but not encouraging excess, and allowing her to just be friends. Giving her room and time to chill out a bit, calm down, get to know him for real instead of just watching him on the playground and admiring his hair and his fabo new teeth (braces off!).

I asked him if he thought any of the girls he knew were cute.

I got The Look.

The OhPleezeYouMustBeKidding look. The look had italics, too.

Still, I thought it a fair question. And he gave it a fair thought, but couldn't come up with how to answer.

Me being me, I gave him a multiple choice answer to select from. He picked (very paraphrased as I was rather direct with my comments): "I'm not really interested in prepubescent/near-pubescent girls, thanks."

Okay, so he already has a preference for high school-to-college-age women, with their, er, physiological maturity in evidence. So to speak.

But he's also handling that aspect well - he thinks dating a girl who is not physically demonstrating a greater maturity is kind of freaky. Ew! Girls that age are not ready to date.

He likewise has a strong preference for waiting himself - he thinks both he and his peers should be much more grown up first.

Which isn't to say he won't be looking at the older girls. He already does. He'll admire the older girls/women, but he really does not want to act on it.

Fine by me, all around.

Still, the start of some new conversations. About learning about girls from girls, and understanding that they are different from each other as well as different from him, and being okay with that. I want him to be able to hold to the statement he made when he was seven: that girls are just people, and there's nothing wrong with being friends with them.

It's kind of the Acceptant Loving Faithful thing, starting up for real. A new set of filters to bring in focus - remember that they are themselves, accept that even when you don't understand it, act kindly and with affection toward your friends, and act faithfully toward them and yourself.

Starting with Acceptant for now.

He seems okay with that perspective. Considering it. Taking it seriously. We'll talk strategies for conversations that don't go to heck immediately, and how to set a boundary (and how annoying it is to have to set it repeatedly, but also how very hard it is to fight hormones so some compassion and patience required in the process).

Is it weird that I think it is really really FUN to get to where we're talking sex, and dating, and pornography, and the implications of being too friendly, STDs, social risk, and heartbreak? I am thrilled that he went to Ep first, told him what was going on that was bothering him (Girl. Likes me. Help!!).

I'm also glad he then came to me after talking to his dad, and asked if dad had filled me in (Nope, he hadn't had time, but it was nice to not have shared it yet, on this go, as that set the tone and required he fill me in on the whole deal). And then that he went ahead and told me. Just let the conversation roll.

It's really exciting to me to watch him hit this stage, to see the teen inside the boy peek out, to watch the suppressed satisfaction of being attractive to someone leak out around the edges, but at the same time see the will to make sane choices remain.

I love that we get to have these talks. That he trusts us with it. I don't fool myself that all the kids will be that way with us - they're each so different. But I'm glad I get to have this child for my first run at it. I'm sure I'll make some mistakes, but hopefully nothing too catastrophic.

And meanwhile, I'll let him carry on working on learning how to be friends with girls. Hormonal preteen/tween girls.

Provided they don't go all weird on him, anyway.

And now for some research that rocks: drinking

Okay, so work is a little crazy, and summer is here, which means new schedules and trying to stay on top of a lot of different thing.

Summer nanny is FABO, though - so that part is fine. :)

My usual 'break' time is reading research. I have two items that are totally unrelated, but important.

First is thanks to a reader sending it my way (thanks!).

According to this study, which breaks out types of drinking by teens, parenting style definitely does affect how heavily a teen will drink. Best case is scoring high on both warmth and accountability (knowing where your kids are, with whom, that whole 'I need to know where in space my child is, and with whom, even if not exactly what is happening' reaction, applied).

Parents who don't know where their kids are or with whom (but are high on warmth) fall in the hole that happens all the time - hugely higher rates of binge drinking. (almost triple the rate) And the strict but uncaring type still double the rate.

Knowing the metaparenting-related research, that fits in with a lot of other research. High expectations plus warmth tends to create positive behavior. High demand on the content of the relationship (that 'knowing who you are with/where' part, but also expecting communication and not letting things drop just because they're challenging to get through or face resistance) tends to combine well with a positive relationship to improve overall functional maturity.

This ties in a little with the research that shows that even thinking about someone who has good self-control improves one's self-control. (and vice-versa) Being in relationship with someone who is accountable and asks for accountability means you're more likely to respond with accountable/accountability oriented behavior. The modeling comes in at the neurological level.

Granted, peers who are accountability oriented is a big help, too.

There is other research that shows that with twins, the higher their sense of mutual dependence, the lower their risky sexual and alcohol behaviors. It's not just about them when they act, it is about how it affects the people they're bonded with. Feeling accountable is a two-way street, and a sense of being permanently embedded in that web of interaction, not just 'loved' but 'cared about', has a deep impact on the behaviors that result. 

They're not all like that

So, I've been talking about the anxiety thing lately.

Also at home and around others. Miss M doesn't look like a kid with anxiety most of the time. It shows if you know what you're looking for, and certainly under some conditions it is quite clear. But mostly it looks like normal shy.

Miss R, however, has these little freakouts over new things (people, events, etc.) that made us realize that we've coached so much for Miss M, and not at all for Miss R, and now Miss R's skills are a bit behind.

Leap forward to earlier this week, when Miss R had an extraction at the dentist. She got her mommy's tooth eruption pattern, and her front adult teeth come in behind her baby teeth instead of under, so they just hang out being in the way and risking cavities in the adult teeth. Lovely?

When I was a kid, they just left the other teeth in until they fell out on their own. As a consequence, I had very deep gumline (exposing a bit of root) on my lower front teeth for several years until the gumline decided to adjust. Maybe not the best plan.

So, modern approach is to extract if the adult tooth is well erupted but the primary hasn't loosened up much.

Miss R, understandably, was Not Impressed with the plan.

Okay, so let's Coach! Talk through what is going to happen, give her strategies for handling it...

Uh, or not.

Because as soon as I started talking about what was going to happen, she started to freak out worse. Cried, threw things, insisted she wasn't going to cooperate, that she HATED the dentist, she was going to just stay home. Uh. Fail?

So I changed to strategies for coping. Worse! Even just asking her for ideas about what she could do was a fail. Her only strategy was 'refuse to play'.

I quit while I was only about a mile behind where we started.

Sigh.

And then I remembered. (D'oh!)

They're not all the same.

Some kids (and adults) really do function better if they don't think too much about it beforehand, just go in and carry on. We can talk around observing what else is happening at the time (how do others handle it, would that work for me, what are the pros/cons of that approach In The Moment, what else could I try), but talking beforehand? Lightly, seldom, and not directed at pre-planning the strategy, but at pre-planning the meta-strategy (how to figure out your strategy on the fly, rather than figuring out your strategy now).

In the end, the extraction was a success, and had quite the teachable content there, too. She said she wasn't brave, because she cried. Daddy, seeing that moment, caught it and talked about bravery being not the same as not being scared, and that she did it (knowing it was the right thing to do but not wanting to) was evidence of courage on her part.

Learning all around. I re (re re re re) learned that Miss R is Not Like The Others (just as they're all Not Like The Others, only she's Not in different ways than the others...). She learned that she is brave. Even if she doesn't always feel it.

Which, in the end, is rather a lot like the others.

Working 'step two'

Miss M used to have severe anxiety. A big part of that was the diet - a side effect of eating the wrong diet when you have Fructose Malabsorption is that tryptophan isn't absorbed well. No tryptophan, body can't effectively make serotonin. Imbalance in serotonin = mood issues (depression/anxiety/rage).

So she had a pretty bad case of it, tilted toward anxiety. Turned into a little zombie when people talked to her. It was so bad that at the early intervention assessment, she couldn't even close her hand on a toy. Just sat on my lap staring straight ahead. Kinda scary, actually. The home visit with the psychologist was no better. Sat on my lap, couldn't speak, couldn't move. Wah!

But the diet change helped tremendously. Funny that! In four days, she was a new person. But she still had a baseline anxiety issue.

The psychologist was great - not the least being great with the parental side of things.

She asked (seeing M all catatonic) if we took her out places. No, really, we'd cut back on all activities that caused her to shut down.

Good job, mom. You guys have done a fantastic job at step one of the process - protecting your child from harmful situations.

And now, step two. Step two is giving her the skills to safely and comfortably participate in life, including situations that she 'naturally' finds stressful. Time to give her the skills to participate in and enjoy the things that right now are 'too scary'.

It was nice to hear that we'd done so well at step one, even though I knew we'd pretty much skipped step two at that point. Didn't even realize there was a step two!

I think a lot of parents don't think about step two. We're so media trained to worry about safety, to fret for the dangers, to be wary, that we don't even think about coaching the skills for enjoying uncomfortable and 'scary' situations. Sure, we coach for survival (what to do if a stranger approaches you inappropriately), but what about just 'nervous'? What about just being around strangers with your parents? What about all the other skills for handling unknown or uncomfortable situations?

Once we knew there was a 'step two', we kicked into gear on coaching, prepping, practicing, giving alternatives to try, and being backstop/safety net. Told her where we were going, what we'd do there, who would be there. Reminded her of her skills for talking, playing, and asking for help when she needed it. Let her bring her big stuffed shark to church (where it could add a layer between her and 'people'). Explained the rules for parties, set expectations, talked about events before they happened, gave her a job or role for the event...

And it has worked. Still works, and we still use it. Birthday parties are now fun, and nobody knows she has that much baseline anxiety. Most people would guess it is Miss R who had the big scary fear of people and events. Miss M? She's off into the puppy pile, racing ahead, in charge of herself, certain of what she's doing, knows how to handle the emotional discomfort.

She's becoming an old hand at working step two.

New signs of being older

Mr B last night calmly opted to take a loss of TV privileges rather than take a bath. Okay, not entirely calmly, but with distinct preference for that, and no screaming or crying - just grumbling.

Hum.

I let him, because in the end the intention is to have him bathed, and he's taking the bath this morning, before school. What I wanted was for him to just comply with my schedule, because baths in the morning are a pain in the rear. He opted not to, recognized that opting out was a problem for me but decided that opting out was still that important to him. So he took the hit.

Okay, then. Now what?

It used to be that the sign that I was parenting a child who was no longer there (that is, that they'd outgrown my techniques) was that I was getting all the way to yelling and still not getting a response in the direction I wanted. Now, it is that I'm getting to negotiated consequences that don't entirely make sense.

Really, if he was a grownup and preferred a morning shower to an evening one, it would be a minor annoyance at worst. I would certainly be able to find a way to accommodate. He has done the morning bath once before, on time and properly with only a little 'please stay upstairs while I bathe' annoyance. I'm skeptical that one success means always success, but I don't have reason to think it will be terrible... so two days of no TV for an inconvenience? Bzzt. Methinks that's the wrong answer.

But it is a nice signpost. Pointing right at 'hello, he's older than your parenting.' Now I get to learn how to parent this new age for him. It won't be the same as parenting his brother at this age - so very different in needs, style, personality, direction... but there are some places I understand, number one being the need to sit down and get to the heart of a matter together and listening to what he wants first, rather than just choosing for him and trying to convince him I know better. Not that this isn't true for younger ages, too, but it becomes THE method, instead of being situational.

Granted, some days he isn't older than the 'mommy knows best' parenting (yes, you WILL get in trouble going to school looking like that). He's in that range of disregulation where he's swinging wildly back and forth between years younger than he 'is' and much older. Needy and emotionally hungry and fragile one moment, mature and self-contained another. One minute he's figuring out a solution with his brother, the next he's making faces at him and poking him with a toy.

Nine is coming up soon. NINE, how did he get to be 'going on nine'? But nine is a good year, so far as I know. I only have the one experience with nine, but I liked it rather a lot. I've never been much of one for nostalgia about my kids when they were younger, fortunately. I think I'm just surprised that they aren't always the same age, whatever age that is now.

Or rather, whatever age it is that I already know how to parent.

Teaching my girls to dance

Some of you are probably aware of my Scottish dancing activity - been doing that for a long time.

But I have been doing Middle Eastern Dance far longer - since I was about 9 years old. Yes, that's 'belly dancing' for the Americans. Technically I probably fall under American Fusion, because I have a lot of different influences, including Hula, Lebanese, Turkish, Egyptian, and probably some Tai Chi lands in there, too. I prefer Turkish and Lebanese music, overall, but anything with a beat will do. I taught for a few years (maybe around 10), too. But then kids, and kids who freaked out when I danced, and life, and not much dancing for a while.

I've been getting back into it lately. Good for keeping in shape!

I have also been teaching the girls (Misses M and R) to dance. Mainly just by dancing with them. When I'm working in the kitchen, I put on a CD, and we dance.

Lately, this has taken root. The girls are 5 1/2, and are very into the concept that 'girls do things that girls do' - dancing being one of them (boys dancing makes them wince - but that will come with time, too).

A month or so ago, I had the music on, and left the room to do something. When I came back, Miss M was in the kitchen, dancing alone, trying out her arm movements, swinging her hips. I backed out of the kitchen so as not to embarrass her (she hates being noticed when she's focused inward). Came back later. Didn't comment.

A few weeks ago, Miss R shifted from being all over-done hips and silliness and stiff arms to really getting snake arms and the fluidity of the hands.

She was showing Miss M in the car on the way to school yesterday. See, like THIS! (rolls her elbow outward, wrist following, fingers rolling after...)

Miss M was frustrated, and was certain she could NOT. Nope, not even going to try.

Miss R was puzzled by her sister's discouragement. She paused a moment, and then said something I thought was absolutely brilliant.

'You can. It is inside of you, you just have to find it. Then it comes out!'

Exactly! All these movements are inside of us. They come out from the inside. Especially if we have watched others dancing, especially at these ages. It helps to have seen it, over and over. Even when teaching adults, the key (I find) is having the movement come from the energy inside. It looks different when you do it that way, too.

Miss M hasn't found the inside snake arms yet. But she has found many of the other moves.

I will continue to dance with them as long as they'll tolerate it. It may go away at some point, but I really like the idea that they will grow up with these bouncing, swinging, long, fluid, curving movements 'inside of them'. 

Growing up

This morning, there was sunlight and warmth and seeds to plant, so the girls and I went outside to play in the springtime-ness of the day.

A large stick was found, and dragged about with the same kind of glee one expects of puppies - or really, 5-and-a-half year olds in spring.

Then ooch, the disaster. Miss M had put the stick down. Miss R had made to walk over it, one foot across... Miss M then decided to grab the stick and run with it, which meant she picked it up while Miss R was still in mid-step-over.

One ouchy scrape later, Miss M is racing down the sidewalk (not even having noticed that she injured her sister), and Miss R is standing there clutching her leg and peering at the white scraped up bits of skin and crying...

I paged Miss M to come back and handle the problem.

And she did.

She came back, apologized, looked appropriately stricken, ran inside to get an ice pack while MIss R limped to the steps to sit in the sun... When Miss R declined the ice pack in a snit (too small for the boo-boo), Miss M didn't take it personally, and just ran back inside to get another ice pack (bigger one).

She asked if she could do anything to help. When that was NO, she stepped back out of the way and let Miss R have her time tending herself. But she didn't vanish, and kept her attention around her sister, peripherally aware and waiting.

And then as Miss R came up for air from her extended stay in 'woe is me' (she takes longer with her feelings than Miss M), Miss M was right there, offering to play ball with the Wounded One, cheerfully rolling a ball to her (ball is huge), laughing and encouraging her to kick it harder.

A small break in play had them standing together for a moment, and I heard Miss M say she was really sorry, and she'll try not to scratch her sister with a stick ever again. A peripheral glance over showed Miss R giving a nod and then a big hug back to her sister, and then they were back to the ball rolling game.

And all I had to do was get Miss M's attention in the first place. No other coaching! Uh. Whoa? Growing up!

Meanwhile, this morning, Mr G asked if he could use 15 minutes of his 30 minutes of computer game time. We only just announced that we wanted to limit the game time to 30 minutes a day... like, maybe two days back? We did explain why. And he listened and frowned with considered thought as I went through the issues and concerns with extended game play time. But he just rolled into it like it was no biggie, just 'okay, new limits, no problem'...

More growing up. So so so so so so so cool.

These little people are amazing. The more they grow, the more I really GET my mom's statement that it isn't the kid rearing that is the coolest part, it is the adult they grow into being. Yeah. These are going to be some very cool adults.

Some days I can see the future

I suspect that I tend to 'see what the future looks like' when my kids are acting like sane, responsible, mature individuals. The other days are just learning opportunities, right? (Right???!!!)

On the good days, we get:

Mr B, still half-sobbing from pain where his sister accidentally dropped her empty oatmeal bowl on his foot, and putting real emphasis on the empathetic tone: "R, it's okay, it isn't your fault, I'm not angry at you. It was an accident." And bringing the bowl to the kitchen (gimping all the way, tears of pain still leaking down his face) so it wouldn't happen to someone else. Safe, Respectful, and Kind.

Miss R, turning around in the kitchen to see her sister has come in from the snow and is wet to her knees (coat now discarded) and shivering, spins around and runs from the room, to return post haste with her favorite flowered fleece sweater: "M, here, here, this will keep you warm! You can put it on. I'll go up with you to look for dry pants and socks! Come on!" Safe (health stuff falls under 'safe'), Respectful, and Kind.

Mr G, pleasantly talking on the phone to Auntie A when he's home by himself after school (paraphrasing): "Sorry, I really shouldn't chat right now. I've got homework to do, and if I haven't made progress by the time Dad gets home with the girls, it will be a Problem." Respectful, plus Effective and Prudent.

Miss M, putting on her watch (Christmas gift from my friend A) in the morning, pausing a moment to admire it, then saying, "Can you email A an' tell him thanks again for the watch? I really like it." Respectful and Kind.

Sigh. Them are the good days.

Granted, those are usually the very same days where we also get:

Mr G commenting on my personality (participating in social chitchat) in the most arrogant and dismissive manner, publicly, in front of other parents. Thaaaaanks, babe. Not Respectful. And boy are we still just introducing Acceptant, Loving, and Faithful at this age... 

Miss R yanking a plastic knife out of her sister's hand (cutting the webbing of her thumb on the way) because she wants to be the one setting the table for tea, and then screaming that Miss M's crying in pain and fear (blood! AAHHH!) hurts her EARS. (Why does that make me just want to slap her upside the head? I didn't. I just made her help with the bandaging up. And set a rule that she can't help set the table until she's better at not yanking things from her sister's hands when she wants whatever it is.) Not Safe.

Miss M snootily pointing out that SHE got her coat on RIGHT AWAY when Miss R is having a hard day with even the idea of clothing, let alone the coat. Yeah, I'm not talking to you, dear. That's great, but it isn't the point, please stop trying to position yourself as the 'good child'. It's not Respectful or Kind.

Mr B screaming at the top of his lungs (shrieking, really) and charging up the stairs trying to grab at Miss R, because Miss R cut in front of him and ran upstairs for bed first. Not Safe, Respectful, or Kind.

Sigh. 

I pretend that the future only has the first set. La la la la la I can't HEAR you! (Whoops, I don't think that was Respectful...)

Mindfulness and quiet interactions

You know, when the kids start getting loud and things start getting to the 'out of control' zone, I tend to try to 'stay calm'.

And trying to 'stay calm' usually winds me right up VERY FAST. Something about it ... maybe the direct comparison to the 'not calm' or the implication that I am already losing my cool, or that the situation is challenging, or... I don't know. But 'stay calm' as a statement or a self-reminder just causes the pressure to escalate.

Anyone else feel that way? People say 'stay calm' in situations where calm is not the natural condition, thanks! Emergencies, say.

Now, I stay calm in most emergencies, but mainly because I have an idea of what to do for most of them. And I'm rather a thinker type, so that helps.

But if I really need to stay calm, telling myself to do so is relatively pointless. Worse, I think it tends to create more internal pressure.

Today, I decided to try 'staying quiet' instead. When things got loud, or angry, or generally wild (post-Christmas toy addiction behavior, sugar overloads, etc.), I went to 'quiet'.

Quiet voice. Quiet touch. Quiet engagement. Having each child come to me individually, and talking very quietly in their ear about what they needed, what happened, what we're doing next, etc. And when someone inevitably interrupted with what they needed, quietly reminding them that I can only handle one person at a time, and asking them (quietly) to wait until I'm done... huh. Guess what, everyone listened. Nobody whined or yelled about being put off (or not in front of me).

I also discovered a new phrase, that makes intuitive sense even if it makes no logical sense: "I can't hear you when you talk loudly." Also: "Please speak more quietly so I can hear you better." And "I can't hear you, can you try again more quietly?"

I do have a hearing loss, and it is in the screeching/whining range. It is actually more difficult to understand them when they are yelling/screaming/whining (even when the screamies are happy screamy). Too loud tends to pitch them up to where I can't hear well. So, quiet tends to drop them lower, back into the range I can hear well.

So far, so good. Granted, only one day. It is part of NVC, I'm sure, but one part that had slipped away from my grasp lately.

That said, I tend to get louder when my kids outgrow my parenting, so ... no real surprise there. I get more agitated, frustrated, and angry. I get more 'yelly' - more loud, more hair-trigger, more prone to angry words and stubborn, rigid, emotionally locked up... pretty much everything my kids do, they learned from me. Sigh.

But. Eventually I do notice (again) that the child I'm parenting hasn't been around for a couple of months, and I'm trying to apply old methods to new child (developmentally). No wonder it fails! Who are you and what have you done with the younger version of you?

Start again. And start again as I did with the new version of them at any age - observing, interacting, being face to face. Making eye contact, making physical contact (gently), asking, reflecting, expressing what my own problem is (instead of expecting them to remember that), and then developing the new sense of who they are, now, and what they need, this time.

Quietly doesn't hurt. Mindfulness exercises are useful on that, too. Wherever you are, be there. Be here now. Live in this moment. All times are one time, all moments are one moment. Whatever phrase speaks, use it. Being here right now makes it easier to be quiet, too.

Carrying on. Tomorrow we start again, and it will once again be today when we get there.

Love and cuteness

Yesterday, I was sitting in the car, watching Mr B and Miss M play some kind of running back and forth game at his bus stop.

It was one of those moments that causes me to overflow with joy, peace, love, satisfaction... everything is right with the world when a brother and sister are racing around, eyes alight, laughing, him coaching her on how to go about the game with affection and kindness (and no bossiness, arrogance, or frustration), her taking it in with equal grace and enthusiasm. They were both fully engaged in the game, 100% there, together.

When they noticed me watching (probably with 'that smile' on my face), they scowled at me - my noticing was an intrusion, and not really welcome. It took them out of the space, made them look from outside at themselves, reminded them that others might be watching, stole some of the 100%-ness.

I looked away, and they resumed their play, but changed it so the new game would not be tarnished by my noticing. 

I love that my children love each other. I know we set that up, encouraged it, coached the skills, and reminded them to engage with each other, trusted each of them to feel it. But it was still with fingers crossed and hope in my heart that they would not just love each other, but suit each other as well.

I have enough siblings (a LOT) to know that the 'click' is not there just because we're siblings. We don't all get along easily and smoothly. I get along with pretty much everyone, but even then, there are rough areas. Places that take some skill, patience, effort. And where I have to put in a lot of effort, the relationship is not as ... hmm, I was going to say 'strong/sturdy' but I think really it is that those relationships ONLY have the strong/sturdy, and none of the other structures and aspects. We basically don't connect as often, or for as long, when there is less of a natural fit. But at the same time, the love is quite an amazing bedrock.

My little brother M, who I sometimes refer to as the Golden Child (because he was), is a lovely, gracious, gentle, creative, and interesting person. Whenever we talk, it is as if nothing has changed, no time has passed, I could have just stepped out of the house back in high school and come back in, time folds, and we are as we have always been, at least once we reached adolescence. We don't talk often, but when we do, there is never any question of the depth of our affection for each other.

I'm glad that my kids seem to have that same thing. That same warmth, caring, open and comfortable love for each other. Even when they fight, part of the pain they fight with is that conflict between the love and what-just-happened.

My friend N asked how I stayed normal surrounded by such cuteness. The kids are definitely cute, too. But while the cute is sometimes overpowering, what really makes me go mommy-nuts, what makes me stop and grin stupidly while I watch them, or catch them up and kiss their heads while they squeal and laugh and demand to be put back down This Minute, is seeing the love they have for each other.