"When it gets warmer and it rains- and it's not lightning!- you can go out and play in the rain."
This is the promise we have been making to Hope since May. Little did we know it would decide to stop raining in Wisconsin for about two months. The lakes and rivers have been down. All the grass is brown. (Well, except for the lady down the street who is obviously obsessive-compulsive about her lawn.)
Finally last Saturday- rain! It began to pour. It was daytime. It was not lightning. And it was warm. All Hope's needed criteria. She took one look out the window and blurted out, "Can I play in the rain?!?" So we sent her out, Minnie Mouse nightgown and all, and she fulfilled her summer dream. It was adorable and fun and very summer carefree-ish.
Being the typical mama that I am, I made sure I had the digital camera and video camera in hand, and captured precious footage of my three year old running through the rain, splashing in puddles, and laughing. I even enjoyed Violet not enjoying the rain. My husband, parents and I laughed as she would step out wanting to play with her sister, then feeling the wet, aerial assault would wrinkle her nose and run back in the garage.
When Hope announced she was finished, I grabbed a wet child under each arm and wrestled them inside with admonitions not to do anything or touch anything but go straight to the bathtub, which they did.
Fast forward four days...
My in-laws were in town from Ohio and we were heading out the door to watch an aerial stunt show at the country's biggest airplane convention.
"Have you seen the video camera?" I asked my husband.
He hadn't. We searched the places we would normally keep it, then all the other places we might accidentally set it down. Then, backtracking to the previous rainy Saturday, we looked all over the garage. Nowhere.
We left for the stunt show with no video camera, my husband reassuring me, "It will show up." But I had a fear taking root. A fear that I had set the camera on the bumper of the car. A fear that in the chaos of taking two kids in from the rain and giving them a bath, the camera had been left on the car's bumper until one of us drove away with it until it bounced off... who knows where. I wanted to cry- and couldn't. Just a small electronic gadget, and yet, the avenue of preserving my family's memories.
Looking back on my own childhood, my parents will tell you today that one of their regrets is that they never bought a video camera. They still wish they had moving footage of our family's memories. Knowing this, a mini-DVD recorder was something my husband and I sacrificed for when we were expecting our first child. We pinched our pennies and purchased that small electronic gadget... that would enable us to record and save priceless, irreplaceable moments in time.
After a week, we resigned ourselves to the fact that our video camera was lost. Maybe crushed on a road somewhere, maybe in some stranger's hands, but gone nonetheless. I contemplated making a flyer about our lost camera and passing it out around the neighborhood. After all, if the camera had fallen off the car, it couldn't have landed far, right?
Imagine our surprise when my husband received a message on Facebook from a stranger saying, "I think I may have your video camera..." We were instructed to call the police department if the video camera was ours and they would give us the number for the person holding the camera.
Phone calls were placed and returned and I was overjoyed Friday when a woman came to our door holding our camera! She and her husband had been driving a mile from our home when they saw the camera laying the road.
Knowing nothing about video cameras, they eventually figured out how to watch the enclosed video to see if there were any clues such as us saying our name or a video showing the front of our house. The video of Hope and Violet in the rain showed our front yard, and they spent part of one day driving around the neighborhood where they had found the camera looking for a fire hydrant and large rock matching the ones in our yard from the video. They called the local police department, but no report had been filed. (The thought never even crossed my mind...)
It took a couple of days before the husband of this duo accidentally opened the door to the mini-DVD (knowing nothing about video cameras, this hadn't occurred to them before). Praise God I had written our last name on the disk, as well as the date I put it in the camera. Finally- a clue! They enlisted the help of a family member who was familiar with the internet and Facebook who looked up our last name and discovered my husband- located near where they had found the camera.
What followed was a Facebook message, several phone calls, and a joyous reunion! With a small... electronic... gadget.
Monday, August 3, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Actions Really Are Loud
"I don't understand why you want to wear nightgowns to bed every night. I buy you perfectly nice pajamas, and you never wear them because you always want to wear nightgowns. If you want to wear nightgowns all the time, then I won't buy you pajamas anymore."
Thus I chastised my daughter one morning as we changed her our of her nightgown into shorts and a tank top.
To which she responded, "Do you know why I want to wear nightgowns to bed every night? It's because I want to be like you, Mama."
Stab.
What parent hasn't had a moment like that? Looking with disdain on something your child is doing, only to realize that they are only trying their best to follow your example.
It brings such unexpected, maybe even unwanted, weight to our decisions as parents. Why should we bear such weighty responsibility? Is it fair that what used to be such easy, inconsequential decisions now are not so easy, and bear consequences? Is this what we signed up for when we participated in procreation?
In one word? Yes.
When you have a child, you suddenly have a tiny disciple. Someone watching you, following you, copying you. Whether you're aware of it or not, whether you intended it or not, whether you want it at all. Suddenly, everything you do... matters.
Gulp.
What's more, we can't even just tell our children the right thing to do. Or better yet, have them watch a video series, go to a seminar, and read a good book about "How to Be a Good Person". They won't be shrugged off so easily. Nope, they're becoming little versions of you.
The day will come when our example will matter less, our words and explanations will be understood a little better- though still not necessarily followed, and they won't intentionally try to be so much like us anymore. But today they are small. Today they are pure and untainted by life and experience and pain. Today they are learning all they know about life and being human from us.
So when you look past all the books and flashcards, when you silence the words and nagging, when you remove the clamor of voices and lessons:
What are you really teaching your children?
Thus I chastised my daughter one morning as we changed her our of her nightgown into shorts and a tank top.
To which she responded, "Do you know why I want to wear nightgowns to bed every night? It's because I want to be like you, Mama."
Stab.
What parent hasn't had a moment like that? Looking with disdain on something your child is doing, only to realize that they are only trying their best to follow your example.
It brings such unexpected, maybe even unwanted, weight to our decisions as parents. Why should we bear such weighty responsibility? Is it fair that what used to be such easy, inconsequential decisions now are not so easy, and bear consequences? Is this what we signed up for when we participated in procreation?
In one word? Yes.
When you have a child, you suddenly have a tiny disciple. Someone watching you, following you, copying you. Whether you're aware of it or not, whether you intended it or not, whether you want it at all. Suddenly, everything you do... matters.
Gulp.
What's more, we can't even just tell our children the right thing to do. Or better yet, have them watch a video series, go to a seminar, and read a good book about "How to Be a Good Person". They won't be shrugged off so easily. Nope, they're becoming little versions of you.
The day will come when our example will matter less, our words and explanations will be understood a little better- though still not necessarily followed, and they won't intentionally try to be so much like us anymore. But today they are small. Today they are pure and untainted by life and experience and pain. Today they are learning all they know about life and being human from us.
So when you look past all the books and flashcards, when you silence the words and nagging, when you remove the clamor of voices and lessons:
What are you really teaching your children?
Saturday, July 18, 2009
The Joys of Genes
Apparently, my genes are stronger than my healthy habits. That is the sad discovery I made this week.
I have a family history of high blood pressure. Both my parents have high blood pressure, several of my grandparents. I grew up hearing warnings from my parents of my grandparent's unhealthy lifestyles that had led to their heart disease.
I never had a problem with my own blood pressure until I was pregnant with Violet. During my last two months of pregnancy my numbers would climb higher and higher with each visit. I went from being advised not to exercise anymore to being told to rest and sit down as much as possible to being induced for labor because they didn't want my blood pressure to rise any higher.
However, six weeks after delivering Violet, my numbers had gone back down and I was taken off the medication they had prescribed me after her birth. Having taken my blood pressure reading at several machines in the last sixteen months though, I was fairly certain my blood pressure problems weren't over.
So at my yearly physical on Wednesday, I wasn't surprised when the nurse told me that my blood pressure reading was high. My doctor sent me to the lab to have blood drawn so they could test to see if any underlying medical conditions were causing the high blood pressure. The tests came back negative, meaning I don't have liver disease or thyroid disease or any other condition causing my high readings. I was informed that I will be prescribed a daily low dose of a diuretic to help lower my blood pressure.
Now, I'm not a physical specimen of health, but I take good care of myself. I exercise four to five days a week and try to incorporate cardio, strength training, and stretching. I am not fastidious about what I eat, but overall I am a healthy eater. I rarely eat red meat, incorporate fruits and vegetables every day, lots of whole grains, etc. I get at least seven hours of sleep every night and don't have an overly stressed lifestyle. (Unless you count my two little ones as overstressed...) I've never even been a smoker.
Despite all this, in my late twenties, I am going on daily blood pressure medicine. Oh, the frustration! Despite all my efforts and prevention, my family's medical history has defeated me.
It just goes to show you... well, mostly me- that there are some things you can't control. Some things that simply are, and all we can do is to accept them and move forward. Taking a pill every day is not the worst case scenario in life, it barely counts as a blip in the story of me. So I will continue with my healthy living, and take a little pill every morning to help me along. (Oh yes, and I will blame my ancestors and Violet for laying this medical mantle on my shoulders. Grr...)
I have a family history of high blood pressure. Both my parents have high blood pressure, several of my grandparents. I grew up hearing warnings from my parents of my grandparent's unhealthy lifestyles that had led to their heart disease.
I never had a problem with my own blood pressure until I was pregnant with Violet. During my last two months of pregnancy my numbers would climb higher and higher with each visit. I went from being advised not to exercise anymore to being told to rest and sit down as much as possible to being induced for labor because they didn't want my blood pressure to rise any higher.
However, six weeks after delivering Violet, my numbers had gone back down and I was taken off the medication they had prescribed me after her birth. Having taken my blood pressure reading at several machines in the last sixteen months though, I was fairly certain my blood pressure problems weren't over.
So at my yearly physical on Wednesday, I wasn't surprised when the nurse told me that my blood pressure reading was high. My doctor sent me to the lab to have blood drawn so they could test to see if any underlying medical conditions were causing the high blood pressure. The tests came back negative, meaning I don't have liver disease or thyroid disease or any other condition causing my high readings. I was informed that I will be prescribed a daily low dose of a diuretic to help lower my blood pressure.
Now, I'm not a physical specimen of health, but I take good care of myself. I exercise four to five days a week and try to incorporate cardio, strength training, and stretching. I am not fastidious about what I eat, but overall I am a healthy eater. I rarely eat red meat, incorporate fruits and vegetables every day, lots of whole grains, etc. I get at least seven hours of sleep every night and don't have an overly stressed lifestyle. (Unless you count my two little ones as overstressed...) I've never even been a smoker.
Despite all this, in my late twenties, I am going on daily blood pressure medicine. Oh, the frustration! Despite all my efforts and prevention, my family's medical history has defeated me.
It just goes to show you... well, mostly me- that there are some things you can't control. Some things that simply are, and all we can do is to accept them and move forward. Taking a pill every day is not the worst case scenario in life, it barely counts as a blip in the story of me. So I will continue with my healthy living, and take a little pill every morning to help me along. (Oh yes, and I will blame my ancestors and Violet for laying this medical mantle on my shoulders. Grr...)
Thursday, July 2, 2009
De-Throning a Princess
I hate to admit it. But- at least in this area- my husband is right.
After observing a reoccurring pattern of behavior over the past year from Hope, I finally have to admit that after we visit with either set of grandparents, it seems that Hope has to be... deprogrammed.
Honestly, it's not through any fault of my in-laws or my parents. Yes, they're your typical doting grandparents, but they do abide by the rules of the house while they're with us and support my husband and I in any discipline we have to dole out.
Nonetheless, when my sweet, three-year-old daughter finishes visiting her grandparents, I now know we are in for two to three days of over-the-top whining and world class fits. Simple, although irrational, requests turn into all out mother-daughter warfare. Like today at the park. We were just finishing up a visit with some friends, Hope had been having a blast rolling down a huge hill numerous times. I told her it was almost time to leave, so she made her way over to me.
"I'm thi-hsty," she says.
"Okay, you have water and chocolate milk in the car. When we get there, you can choose which one you want."
"I want juice," she counters.
"Sorry, I don't have any juice here."
This doesn't deter her in the least. She only persists, louder, higher, and with longer words, "IIIIIIIII waaaaaaaaant juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuice."
"Hope. We. Don't. Have. Any. Juice." Mommy responds tersely.
Needless to say, Hope's requests for juice only continued to escalate into full on screams, finally culminating in kicking Mommy in the leg for good measure.
The final battle of the war was waged by Mommy pushing a screaming and crying Hope, very quickly, in her stroller to the car where we proceeded home and Hope was put in bed for her nap with no book by a crabby mommy.
A mommy who spent the afternoon shedding tears in her room because she let her three year old get the better of her temper, and disciplined said daughter out of frustration, not love.
A truce was reached by both parties this afternoon when they each apologized, the smaller faction for her words and behavior and the opposing force for disciplining in anger.
Let no one ever say the dethronement process is easy.
After observing a reoccurring pattern of behavior over the past year from Hope, I finally have to admit that after we visit with either set of grandparents, it seems that Hope has to be... deprogrammed.
Honestly, it's not through any fault of my in-laws or my parents. Yes, they're your typical doting grandparents, but they do abide by the rules of the house while they're with us and support my husband and I in any discipline we have to dole out.
Nonetheless, when my sweet, three-year-old daughter finishes visiting her grandparents, I now know we are in for two to three days of over-the-top whining and world class fits. Simple, although irrational, requests turn into all out mother-daughter warfare. Like today at the park. We were just finishing up a visit with some friends, Hope had been having a blast rolling down a huge hill numerous times. I told her it was almost time to leave, so she made her way over to me.
"I'm thi-hsty," she says.
"Okay, you have water and chocolate milk in the car. When we get there, you can choose which one you want."
"I want juice," she counters.
"Sorry, I don't have any juice here."
This doesn't deter her in the least. She only persists, louder, higher, and with longer words, "IIIIIIIII waaaaaaaaant juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuice."
"Hope. We. Don't. Have. Any. Juice." Mommy responds tersely.
Needless to say, Hope's requests for juice only continued to escalate into full on screams, finally culminating in kicking Mommy in the leg for good measure.
The final battle of the war was waged by Mommy pushing a screaming and crying Hope, very quickly, in her stroller to the car where we proceeded home and Hope was put in bed for her nap with no book by a crabby mommy.
A mommy who spent the afternoon shedding tears in her room because she let her three year old get the better of her temper, and disciplined said daughter out of frustration, not love.
A truce was reached by both parties this afternoon when they each apologized, the smaller faction for her words and behavior and the opposing force for disciplining in anger.
Let no one ever say the dethronement process is easy.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
First Sunburn
My beautiful, fair-skinned baby got her first sunburn today. In her three and a half years of life on this planet, I have managed to protect her delicate skin from the damaging assault of the sun's rays. The smell of summer in the Songing household is sun screen.
Hope went to a friend's house for the day. Today, which happened to be the hottest day Wisconsin has seen so far this year. Today, when Hope decided she would wear a strappy pink sundress. Today, when the girls spent most of the day playing outside in the sprinkler.
I instructed the friend caring for my daughter as soon as I walked in the door and dropped her off that Hope would need sunscreen while playing outside. I mentioned how sensitive her skin is.
And then this evening as I packed for an upcoming family visit I noticed Hope's arms we very... pink. I took a closer look and found bands of reddening skin on her arms, the back of her legs, and the back of her neck. My heart dropped.
I know it's just a sunburn. I know it's practically part and parcel of childhood. I know it is not serious and will be gone in a few days.
But to see that damage to my baby's skin, damage that has been avoided all this time, damage I wasn't personally there to protect her from; angered me, frustrated me.
And whom am I angry at? Not at Hope, who, up until today, did not even understand what a sunburn was. Not at my friend even, who did abide by my instructions to apply sunscreen to Hope. (Although obviously not thoroughly enough...!!!) Not at anyone really.
I'm just frustrated by the situation. I'm frustrated that tomorrow morning my little girl is going to wake up feeling like her arms and legs are hot, tender, and itchy and that I won't be able to take it away for her. And though I've prevented this situation all her life, I wasn't able to prevent it this time. I'm frustrated that she is hurt and I can't help her.
...And yet, I know that this is only the beginning. She is three years old. I have no idea the situations and problems that are going to arise over the coming years. The scraped knees, the sprained ankles, the fights with friends, the broken hearts... the complete unfairness of life.
As the years pass, Hope will face more and more hurts that I am not able to fix. Hurts much worse, and longer-lasting, than a sunburn. And as a mother, I want to wipe away her tears, and hold her close, and take the pain away. And I can't. I would take the sunburn myself if I could... but I can't. All I can do is comfort her and encourage her and try to ease the pain in the little ways that I am able. And I hope as she experiences the pains of life, that I can explain to her that this pain will pass, and life will go forward, and she has the opportunity to be better because of it.
Hope went to a friend's house for the day. Today, which happened to be the hottest day Wisconsin has seen so far this year. Today, when Hope decided she would wear a strappy pink sundress. Today, when the girls spent most of the day playing outside in the sprinkler.
I instructed the friend caring for my daughter as soon as I walked in the door and dropped her off that Hope would need sunscreen while playing outside. I mentioned how sensitive her skin is.
And then this evening as I packed for an upcoming family visit I noticed Hope's arms we very... pink. I took a closer look and found bands of reddening skin on her arms, the back of her legs, and the back of her neck. My heart dropped.
I know it's just a sunburn. I know it's practically part and parcel of childhood. I know it is not serious and will be gone in a few days.
But to see that damage to my baby's skin, damage that has been avoided all this time, damage I wasn't personally there to protect her from; angered me, frustrated me.
And whom am I angry at? Not at Hope, who, up until today, did not even understand what a sunburn was. Not at my friend even, who did abide by my instructions to apply sunscreen to Hope. (Although obviously not thoroughly enough...!!!) Not at anyone really.
I'm just frustrated by the situation. I'm frustrated that tomorrow morning my little girl is going to wake up feeling like her arms and legs are hot, tender, and itchy and that I won't be able to take it away for her. And though I've prevented this situation all her life, I wasn't able to prevent it this time. I'm frustrated that she is hurt and I can't help her.
...And yet, I know that this is only the beginning. She is three years old. I have no idea the situations and problems that are going to arise over the coming years. The scraped knees, the sprained ankles, the fights with friends, the broken hearts... the complete unfairness of life.
As the years pass, Hope will face more and more hurts that I am not able to fix. Hurts much worse, and longer-lasting, than a sunburn. And as a mother, I want to wipe away her tears, and hold her close, and take the pain away. And I can't. I would take the sunburn myself if I could... but I can't. All I can do is comfort her and encourage her and try to ease the pain in the little ways that I am able. And I hope as she experiences the pains of life, that I can explain to her that this pain will pass, and life will go forward, and she has the opportunity to be better because of it.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Cheese Fest
Now you know that I truly do live in Wisconsin. Tonight, I took Violet and Hope to Cheese Fest.
We live in a very beautiful, family-friendly area of the country in northeastern Wisconsin, known as the Fox River Valley. It's a group of cities, with populations ranging from 3,000 to 75,000, grouped around one of the rare rivers that flows in a northerly direction, the 200 mile long Fox River.
Our area has an abundance of community events and family friendly activities, year round. In fact, Appleton (the largest of the Fox Cities) was voted by RelocateAmerica as one of the top 100 places to live in the United States. And when summer comes to the Fox Cities, we overflow with community gatherings. Oddly enough, though they begin with a variety of words, they all end in Fest. And it seems that each city, from the small to the large, has their own fest.
There's Jazz Fest, Paper Fest, Brewfest, Irish Fest, and Sea Food Fest; and of course, my very first "Fest", attended this very day. Cheese Fest.
My husband had plans to go golfing with friends, which he does literally once or twice a year, so I decided to get the girls out of the house for the night and invited a dear family friend to discover what the community had to offer by heading to the local Cheese Fest.
I was pleasantly surprised. For a village (not "city", don't want to upset the natives) of 11,000, Little Chute threw a pretty decent party, or Fest to be more precise. There was a large variety of children and adult rides, carnival games, vendors, food booths, and a stage for performers- which was still being set up during our time there. The most convenient description would be that it was a county fair on a smaller scale.
We rode a plethora of rides, ate hot dogs and bratwurst (a Wisconsin staple), and enjoyed the playground on the park property the festival was being held on. We had a thoroughly enjoyable evening and experienced a little bit of Wisconsin culture for under $20.
So what are you waiting for? Step out and see what's going on in your community! That yearly event that you always hear about, but never attend. Go this year. You never know what might be in store!
We live in a very beautiful, family-friendly area of the country in northeastern Wisconsin, known as the Fox River Valley. It's a group of cities, with populations ranging from 3,000 to 75,000, grouped around one of the rare rivers that flows in a northerly direction, the 200 mile long Fox River.
Our area has an abundance of community events and family friendly activities, year round. In fact, Appleton (the largest of the Fox Cities) was voted by RelocateAmerica as one of the top 100 places to live in the United States. And when summer comes to the Fox Cities, we overflow with community gatherings. Oddly enough, though they begin with a variety of words, they all end in Fest. And it seems that each city, from the small to the large, has their own fest.
There's Jazz Fest, Paper Fest, Brewfest, Irish Fest, and Sea Food Fest; and of course, my very first "Fest", attended this very day. Cheese Fest.
My husband had plans to go golfing with friends, which he does literally once or twice a year, so I decided to get the girls out of the house for the night and invited a dear family friend to discover what the community had to offer by heading to the local Cheese Fest.
I was pleasantly surprised. For a village (not "city", don't want to upset the natives) of 11,000, Little Chute threw a pretty decent party, or Fest to be more precise. There was a large variety of children and adult rides, carnival games, vendors, food booths, and a stage for performers- which was still being set up during our time there. The most convenient description would be that it was a county fair on a smaller scale.
We rode a plethora of rides, ate hot dogs and bratwurst (a Wisconsin staple), and enjoyed the playground on the park property the festival was being held on. We had a thoroughly enjoyable evening and experienced a little bit of Wisconsin culture for under $20.
So what are you waiting for? Step out and see what's going on in your community! That yearly event that you always hear about, but never attend. Go this year. You never know what might be in store!
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
First Movie
A child's first movie used to be a rite of passage. My older brother's first movie was Star Wars and my husband remembers going to the theater for the first time and seeing E.T. "Used to be", not so anymore.
Go to an animated feature at a theater now and you'll see children as young as a few months- even weeks- old at the theater along with their families. Not that it's a problem, sometimes if the family is going to see a movie, taking baby along is the only way to make it happen. But my point is that more often than not, children as young as one and two years old are almost as accustomed to making the trip to the movie theater as the trip to the grocery store.
Well, call me old-fashioned or over the top, but I was hoping my daughters' first "real" movie would be a special event they would remember for years to come. So we've been watching and waiting for the right time for Hope to go to the theater.
An obvious prerequisite was that she have the attention span to sit through an entire full-length movie at home. That requirement was only recently fulfilled. The next step was to wait for a movie to come out that my particular three year old would actually watch. For her, this means animation only. To her, real people= boring. To top it all off, Mommy (that would be me) is pretty particular about what movies Hope is allowed to watch at all. Even if it's a movie supposedly made for kids, I don't think a bunch of added-in adult humor, even though it goes over kids' head, is necessary. And although it's nearly impossible, we try to avoid toilet humor in movies. That comes naturally enough to kids already, I don't feel the need to encourage it further by providing my daughter with new material.
Hope's and my criteria was finally met with Disney's newest release UP!
We made a big deal with Hope about going to the movie theater. We talked to her in advance about how she would have to whisper during the movie because there would be a lot of other people there watching. We talked up the popcorn and asked her what kind of snack she would want.
All the preparation must have paid off because Hope's first movie was a success. A few moments were intense for her and she covered her eyes. The movie was during and past her bedtime as well, so she did get tired and was reclined in my lap by the time the movie was over. And due to her sensitivity to loud noises, Hope spent approximately half the movie with her hands over her ears. But overall, Faith thoroughly enjoyed the theater experience and our choice for her first movie.
On a side note, if you're going to take your newborn to a movie with you, a few tips. One, make sure they're well fed and either rested or ready to sleep during the movie. Two, be prepared to feed them- breast or bottle- or have a pacifier handy, should they start to make their presence known in the middle of the movie. Third, sit near an aisle so that, should the previous two efforts fail, you can make a quick exit to avoid disturbing other theater patrons. Fourth, and finally, as a last resort, if your tiny movie watcher should become inconsolable, be mentally prepared in advance that you may have to leave the theater altogether and possibly miss seeing the whole film and waste the money you spent on a ticket.
(That being said, I suppose it's quite obvious that we had a family with a small baby sitting directly behind us during the movie that was not entirely respectful of those around her. She definitely stayed within the parameters of proper theater decorum though. Also, I say the above as that this is what I would mentally prepare myself for if I chose to take an infant to a movie theater. In reality, I've chosen to avoid all of the above and just not do it.)
All a child's firsts are new and exciting hurdles their parents leap with them. And Hope's first movie was a very fun one to leap. It makes me excited for Violet's first trip to the theater...
Go to an animated feature at a theater now and you'll see children as young as a few months- even weeks- old at the theater along with their families. Not that it's a problem, sometimes if the family is going to see a movie, taking baby along is the only way to make it happen. But my point is that more often than not, children as young as one and two years old are almost as accustomed to making the trip to the movie theater as the trip to the grocery store.
Well, call me old-fashioned or over the top, but I was hoping my daughters' first "real" movie would be a special event they would remember for years to come. So we've been watching and waiting for the right time for Hope to go to the theater.
An obvious prerequisite was that she have the attention span to sit through an entire full-length movie at home. That requirement was only recently fulfilled. The next step was to wait for a movie to come out that my particular three year old would actually watch. For her, this means animation only. To her, real people= boring. To top it all off, Mommy (that would be me) is pretty particular about what movies Hope is allowed to watch at all. Even if it's a movie supposedly made for kids, I don't think a bunch of added-in adult humor, even though it goes over kids' head, is necessary. And although it's nearly impossible, we try to avoid toilet humor in movies. That comes naturally enough to kids already, I don't feel the need to encourage it further by providing my daughter with new material.
Hope's and my criteria was finally met with Disney's newest release UP!
We made a big deal with Hope about going to the movie theater. We talked to her in advance about how she would have to whisper during the movie because there would be a lot of other people there watching. We talked up the popcorn and asked her what kind of snack she would want.
All the preparation must have paid off because Hope's first movie was a success. A few moments were intense for her and she covered her eyes. The movie was during and past her bedtime as well, so she did get tired and was reclined in my lap by the time the movie was over. And due to her sensitivity to loud noises, Hope spent approximately half the movie with her hands over her ears. But overall, Faith thoroughly enjoyed the theater experience and our choice for her first movie.
On a side note, if you're going to take your newborn to a movie with you, a few tips. One, make sure they're well fed and either rested or ready to sleep during the movie. Two, be prepared to feed them- breast or bottle- or have a pacifier handy, should they start to make their presence known in the middle of the movie. Third, sit near an aisle so that, should the previous two efforts fail, you can make a quick exit to avoid disturbing other theater patrons. Fourth, and finally, as a last resort, if your tiny movie watcher should become inconsolable, be mentally prepared in advance that you may have to leave the theater altogether and possibly miss seeing the whole film and waste the money you spent on a ticket.
(That being said, I suppose it's quite obvious that we had a family with a small baby sitting directly behind us during the movie that was not entirely respectful of those around her. She definitely stayed within the parameters of proper theater decorum though. Also, I say the above as that this is what I would mentally prepare myself for if I chose to take an infant to a movie theater. In reality, I've chosen to avoid all of the above and just not do it.)
All a child's firsts are new and exciting hurdles their parents leap with them. And Hope's first movie was a very fun one to leap. It makes me excited for Violet's first trip to the theater...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
