Creative Containment

I knew I had a good picture for my last entry on ironing. I remembered it well. Both boys in the laundry basket. Cute. Fitting.

But looking back made me remember what else we used that laundry basket for. As well as toy crates, shopping crates and whatever else we could stick them in that would keep them happy - and contain them a bit - for just a few moments longer. (My guess is the above photo of Andrew and Matthew was taken as I was trying to get ready to go to English Group one Wednesday, a process that took 45 minutes to an hour when the twins were young, and required the multiple bags you see in the background, plus lots of patience and creativity to amuse the kids while I packed them.)

The other day I sat Talitha down on the floor. Next to another mom. And walked away. (To help somebody else to the bathroom I hope and not to help myself to another glass of wine!) "Hey." Beulah shouted. "What the heck are you doing?" She looked at her 8 month old, sitting alone and unassisted on the floor. I looked at her 8 month old, sitting alone and unassisted on the floor. "Going to the bathroom?" I might have ventured. (I sincerely don't think I would have put a baby down for a mere glass of wine.) "Uh yeah. She doesn't sit up alone yet" Beulah said. To her credit, she was laughing. (And has let me hold Talitha since.)

Oh wow. And I'm a mother of four. Shouldn't I know better than that?

Well, then again. I'm a mother of four. And twins. Looking back at photos, those boys were on their own way earlier than most. The whole survival thing, I guess.

Andrew never sat. Or crawled. He just got up and walked. At seven months. Honestly. I have photos if I can ever figure out how to post them. I'm not bragging. He didn't speak until he was four. Too busy running circles around the other normal children! (I remember him literally running a circle around his first girlfriend, in Geneva, when they were both one year old. She was asking her mother - in perfect sentences - why that boy didn't sit down. And picking out letters of the alphabet out of the book in front of her. To keep her amused until she learned to stand on her own!)

The twins were up and about early too. And we used just about anything we could to keep them happy and contained. Necessity is the mother of invention. Hence the crates and pillows and anything else we could get them.





My best trick was the laundry basket in the tub, although I'm sure it's been done before. You see, both boys were sitting, but the tub was slippery. And Aidan was a lot stronger than Matthew. I was having a hard time keeping them both amused - because that is the primary reason to bathe twins. Why give yourself all that trouble otherwise? And above water at the same time. Aidan would stand. Matthew would try. Aidan would balance himself on Matthew's head. And both of them would be under water. (They are FANTASTIC swimmers now, both of them!)

But they cried a lot. And that didn't make me happy.

So I reinvented the laundry basket as a bathtub seat. Plastic. Holes for the water to go through. Sides for Matthew to hold on to. Sides to keep Aidan from using Matthew for balance. It worked.

I don't have a lot of pictures - only the one on top - but I was still more preoccupied with keeping the two of them above water than with taking pictures to prove that it was possible. (Note also that that is ANDREW in the tub with Matthew, so my guess is I had a few extra seconds to snap a photo while Aidan was behind me playing in the toilet bowl.)

They spent a lot of times in crates and baskets between the ages of 6 months and a year. Then Aidan started walking and the months of running in two different directions began. That was fun too. I spent one summer at the Hildrizhausen pool tyring to keep Aidan off the concrete steps while at the same time checking to see that Matthew didn't spend too much time with his head underwater in the kiddy pool.




Really. One time Andrew - then just five - jumped into the adult pool and forgot he could swim. It took me less than thirty seconds to gather up Aidan and Matthew from the grass, strap them into their stroller, vault over the chain link fence and fish Andrew out. By then he was already remembering he had taken a swim class.

The few other mothers there looked at me like I was nuts - and irresponsible - to be there with two infants and two other children besides. Look at how long it had taken me to rescue my five year old. Plus I'd left the seven year old in charge of the babies as I vaulted the fence. I ignored the looks. I do well in emergencies. Leaving two 10 month old babies on their own wouldn't have helped anyone. So I strapped them in. And hey, would have been nice if any one of the other mothers had stopped pouring sun lotion onto their own - single - child - and perhaps offered to help me with at least one of mine.

But this isn't about that. It's about creative containment.

And the good times we've had.

"I need to learn how to be more relaxed - like you." Lynn told me the other day. Then I met Catherine at the pool yesterday. "I can't believe you are so relaxed." she told me. I like that word. I like that impression. And I like that I really AM more relaxed now, after years of experimenting with what works for me.

Lynn's turned her driveway into the best play area ever. I've turned one of our porches into a sandbox and water play area.

Creative containment doesn't have to be perfect.

It just has to keep us happy!

Third Grade Math Part Five: Ehrgeiz Scenario

Ehrgeiz is one of those funny German words that seems to mean different things depending on the context in which it is used. It stems from two words, Ehre meaning honor and Geiz meaning stinginess or miserliness. Honor stinginess.

Directly translated into English it means ambition.

Although you want your child to HAVE Ehrgeiz or ambition, you do not want him or her to BE ehrgeizig or ambitious. Maybe it's the same in English, I don't know anymore. Frankly, I've never had to worry about it, having only heard the terms bandied about, mostly in a derogatory fashion, by mothers complaining about other mothers.

Neither Ryan nor Andrew have ever been accused of being ambitious.

I much prefer the terms friendly, courteous and just plain nice. Happy maybe? All of which DO have German equivalents which aren't worth translating because they don't hold the same amount of weight in general German society as they do with me. (Which isn't to say that NO Germans rate them highly, any friend of mine does, but only to say that the society as a whole doesn't emphasize their value to the degree that I would like.)

In the interests of offending noone, I seem to have lost everyone. Let me start over.

Watching Ryan and her friend Caroline riding on Saturday, I had a chance to talk to their teacher and comment on how well I thought they both were doing. I was very careful in my phrasing, carefully riding the line between proud mother (okay in moderation) and ambitious mother. I went so far as to mention - and give credit to - the program and instruction and not just to the children themselves. It really is incredible; I was not riding this well after two years of instruction. I mean, these two girls were RIDING the horses, in a canter, doing figure eights around the ring, not merely sitting in the saddle and wishing the horse might just do what they were hoping it would. (That was - and sometimes still is - my method of riding.)

"Well those two girls are really talented." the teacher replied. "It's a pleasure to teach them because they are able to take my instructions and apply them immediately." "YAY!" my inner voice cried out. "My daughter is TALENTED." Peace descended upon me, validation and fulfillment. But I had seen it too, in both of them, the previous week. At the ages of 9 and 10 they are able to take instructions and further their riding skills. I know from experience that you can HEAR the instructions, WANT to follow the instructions, believe you ARE following the instructions, and still just not get it. It's not that easy in any sport, but especially in a sport where you are dealing with the will of the horse in addition to your own.

The riding teacher continued. "Ryan has a lot of self-confidence and determination. The most amazing thing is her ambition to succeed." Hold up a moment? Rewind. Ehrgeiz? Did I hear that right? MY CHILD has Ehrgeiz? To hell with third grade math, she should be spending more time at the barn.

I've been learning how to rein in my own ambitions for Ryan recently. Since the German education system is so competitive at an early age, many parents with dreams of college for an academically challenged child choose to have the child repeat third grade. The decision on whether the child enters the university or trade school track is made in fourth grade. Just after Ryan turns 10.

Although none of Ryan's teachers recommended having her repeat the third grade - they all feel she is unfocused rather than unable - the system still allows me to decide if I would like to have her repeat it. And I'd toyed with the idea of giving her more time to absorb and understand the information. Had the system of teaching been different, had Ryan been given a chance to properly absorb and better understand the information I would have considered it. The problem is the system here presents the material quickly, with very little review. It's just too quick, with not enough repetition, for Ryan. I saw no sense in repeating the same speedy merry-go-round twice only because I want Ryan to go to college.

So there it was. Should Ryan repeat third grade? For her benefit or for my Ehrgeiz?

We've made a deal, Ryan and I. If she does well in the fourth grade - and by well I mean maintaining a C average - she will be allowed to ride two times a week as a Christmas present. (Let's face it, the kid doesn't need any more plastic horse figurines.) I haven't given up on the academics; I've just changed the focus from achievement to learning. And I'm not pushing the riding; I'm just helping her develop the strengths she does have. Self-confidence and determination. If she can't find them in the classroom then she'll find them in the ring.

Growing awareness. Changing expectations. Acceptance. I've always loved Ryan; maybe I'm finally beginning to know her too.

And although I still have moments when I'm fairly certain the fairies sent her, I know that I'm her mother; I just want her to be happy.