According to the American Dental Association, eighty-five to ninety-nine percent of children have finished sucking their thumb spontaneously by the age of four or five. Babies and children use thumb-sucking as a method to put themselves back to sleep during the night, for comfort, or when tired or bored. That is the good news. The bad news is that fingers are attached to hands and hands cannot be thrown into a trashcan. A tough habit to break.
We called Grant "two-fingers" for a long time. From infancy, he sucked his two fingers on the left hand. As a baby, it was so cute and practical. No need to find the lost binky in the middle of the night. No need to worry about a lost binky on a long car trip. The benefits were great until it was discovered this habit could not be broken. We tried wrapping the fingers with athletic tape (which was easily pulled off). We tried putting Tabasco sauce on the fingers before bed (which was easily wiped off). We even tried taping socks on his hands (easily pulled off). How do you stop a habit that occurs at night when a child is asleep? Teeth and jaw were affected. It was also way past the age of spontaneous cessation. The answer came from the orthodontist--an "apparatus" was required. This did not sound good.
Jaws was James Bond's fictional assassin in the movies The Spy Who Loved Me and Moonraker. Grant, too, now had a mouth of steel and we called him Jaws. The metal appliance was literally attached to the upper palate and had prongs that came down from the roof of the mouth so that fingers could not be inserted into the mouth. Now chewing--that was another story. It took quite a while to learn how to chew and not do damage to his tongue and mouth. Ouch is all I can say. It was very painful to watch in the beginning but the good news was it worked! The bad news was it had to be in place six months to make sure the habit was broken because braces followed to repair the damage done. Best advice? Stick with a binky if at all possible.
Photo above of Grant aka two-fingers hanging out in the backyard.
Having a highly inquisitive child can be a mixed blessing. On the one hand I believe their inquiry is a gift. On the other hand, it can be a real PIA. Why is this? Why is that? The "whys" never stop. It can be mentally exhausting as a parent. I swore I would never say to my children, "Just because it is!" Admittedly, this happened on more than one occasion.
The questions came at warp speed. Why is the sky blue? Why is my hair blond? All was just great until THE question was asked one day in elementary school. "Mom, where do babies come from?"
I thought this question was a bit premature given it was only third grade. I hadn't planned on the "the talk" until later in elementary school but kids talk on the playground. I decided to take the bull by the horn and answer the question directly, honestly and age-appropriate. If I didn't, I would be hounded. My philosophy with boys--blunt is best.
I did not, however, expect a phone call from Grant's third grade teacher after the "talk." This is how it panned out.
"Mrs. Garrity, this is Ms. D and I need to speak with you about an incident regarding Grant."
I replied, "Is everything okay?"
Ms. D said, "Well, not really. I overheard Grant explaining to his table where babies came from. Although the information he gave was actually quite accurate and with correct terminology, it was not appropriate for school. He was arguing with his classmate about who had the correct answer."
"Thank you Ms. D. I'll have a talk with Grant today about appropriate classroom discussions."
I hung up the phone and burst into laughter! My third grader was giving reproduction lessons to his classmates. Unbelievable. As the saying goes, out of the mouths of babes.
What does soccer have to do with books? Everything. My son was a sports enthusiast and has played organized sports since the age of five. He loved soccer, baseball and basketball as a child. Parents of these kids spend a lot of time at practices and games. You get to know the other parents very well. Many long-term friendships are formed on the field or court.
One of my favorite past-times was revitalized on the soccer field--reading. One day a few moms were chatting about books and the conversation revealed we had many "readers" on the field. We all commiserated how little time we had to read with small children and missed that luxury. We decided to form a book club. This would "force" us to start reading again--something we all longed for and missed terribly.
Our book club was formed and to this day we still meet once every four to six weeks (dependent upon how many pages the book of choice is) and have read some incredible books along the way. It has been twelve years and hundreds of books. We have added some members and lost some members but the core of original book-clubbers remain. Vicky, Erin, Leslie, Michelle and myself were the pioneers.
At first I was a bit intimidated. I had always been a reader but some of these moms were very well-read. We decided each person would get to choose a book (of any genre) for the group as well as the place to meet and discuss the book. We'd meet at restaurants, coffee shops or people's homes.
Whether everyone loved or hated the book you chose didn't matter--at least we all were reading!
The photo above is the Jets with Coach Phil and Coach Brian and their star players-Daniel, Jennifer, Colin, Emily, AJ, Grant and Mackenzie.
Any parent of a young toddler/child learns early on that saying "no," "don't," "stop it" too often results in what I call "opposite world." Parenting experts tell us kids do not hear the negative command but do hear the last part of the sentence. I'll share an example. In kindergarten, all the kids were getting ready to walk out of the building and past a wall with wet paint. Mr. Borino said to the kids, "Please don't touch the wall with your fingers because the paint is wet." Grant heard "Touch the wall with your fingers because the paint is wet." That is exactly what happened. That was one of the many phone calls I received from teachers in elementary school. I learned it is much more effective to redirect or distract a child when you are trying to prevent an undesirable behavior. I even took a "Redirecting Children's Behavior" course to get this essential parenting strategy to sink in. Still, I found myself reverting back to the infamous NO with poor results.
My son's second grade teacher was one of the few teachers who understood opposite world. Mrs. Nasset simply had a way with children. They were all called her "sweethearts" and each and every one of them would bend over backwards for her--including Grant. He adored her. She was the expert on redirecting and distracting. It was all done with a tremendous amount of love. I would never have believed this influence over the children but observed it first-hand during my volunteer hours in the classroom. We all loved Mrs. Nasset. She was the president of the anti-opposite world movement.
Photo above is our beloved Mrs. Nasset and Grant after their holiday performance
As a kid, I was often woken up on a weekend morning by the Navy bugle call "Revielle." My dad (ex-Navy) thought it was funny.......I, however, did not.
The upside was my dad's gift with music. He played trumpet by ear. I have many memories of him putting on his headphones, cranking up Benny Goodman and Les Brown and playing along; never reading music. Definitely, a good ear.
Though I was not the benefactor of dad's "gift," I did try a few musical instruments as a child. I was fair, at best. I did, however, realize the benefit of introducing music to my children. Cultivating the right brain (or right hemisphere) attributes was the purpose.
Grant was introduced to his Pop-pops musical talent at an early age. I like to think this sparked his musical interest and certainly fostered the inherited gene. It began with the trumpet in elementary school, then on to piano and by high school--the guitar (first electric then acoustic).
Though our time with Pop-pop was cut short, his love of music lives on forever in his grandson.
The photo above was one of Grant's first trumpet lessons by his Pop-pop
A garden of love grows in a grandmother's heart
-Author unknown
When Nana found out we were having a boy, off she went....shopping. She could not wait to fill Grant's closet with little boy clothes. They knew her by name at Gymboree.
The bond formed between grandmother and grandchild was so strong. The actual creation of this bond was an amazing experience to observe as a parent. It is one I hope Grant remembers forever.
Because it became more difficult to travel with two small children, Nana made it a priority to come down to visit often. When I would fret about the long drive to and fro with terrible traffic, she would say,"My car just goes on automatic pilot straight to your house." It was obvious this relationship filled her up with so much love she would do anything to spend time with her grandchildren--and that she did.
Nana's nickname for Grant was "Granto." I remember her dear friend, Haig Mahdessian (aka Haigo), came over to her house one day and started singing the "Granto Song." The song was made up on the spot with his deep (and loud) opera voice. It stuck. Granto it was.
Though Grant's current relationship with his Nana has changed due to her disease, my hope is that all of the wonderful memories made between grandmother and grandson are enough to last a lifetime.
The photo above was taken by a friend of mine at the park in La Jolla
I could not leave the house for the first six weeks after Grant was born. I had an insatiable nursing baby (who had to literally be ON me at all times or he screamed) and a one-year old who had just learned to walk--no, run. Once I got up the courage and rounded up a sweet teenager to help, we ventured out into the world together.
Grant adored his big sister. He followed her every move. She made him giggle and laugh. He was never alone and had his built-in playmate. Though sometimes there were tears and screams from a pinch, punch or kick--they were truly inseparable.
Once of Grant's first words was "Muh-muh." Samantha was a mouthful for a little boy and Muh-muh sure was easier. He called her Muh-muh for a very long time. If you've ever raised a boy you know their verbal skills typically lag behind girls in early childhood. This was okay because it was endearing and we all loved this nickname for his sister.
Photo above is of Muh-muh and Grant having a rest break on the floor
The news came as quite a surprise. While caring for a four month old baby girl, I was informed by my nurse practitioner, "Yes, you are definitely pregnant." We laughed about nobody telling me fertility was "enhanced" in the post partum period. When she said, "Boy, they will be close," she wasn't kidding. Grant was born almost exactly thirteen months from the date of his sister's birth.
Finding out we were having a boy was a thrill. I pictured a rough-and-tumble boy and that is exactly what we received.
The night of Grant's birth was a comedy. After my water broke in the middle of the night we drove to the hospital but it was one we were familiar with only during the day. At night everything looked different. We parked and started walking but couldn't find the after-hours entrance. I started to get tired and found a bench. My husband said he would go walk around and figure it out. It was dark. There was NOBODY around. I started to freak out. Here I was ready to deliver a baby and I'm sitting on a bench, in the dark, by myself. Needless to say, a few choice words were exchanged that night. I was a deranged pregnant woman.
My wonderful (and embarrassingly good-looking) obstetrician made it in for the delivery and August 5, 1993 brought a beautiful baby boy into this world.
The photo above is of Grant in one of my favorite Gymboree outfits compliments of Nana
My son is now a senior in high school. This comes on the heels of sending his sister off to college this summer. Raising a son has been so very different than raising a daughter. I have learned so much about boys.
In this blog I will take a look back at some VERY funny moments as well as some--well, let's just say some not so funny moments in raising a son. I dedicate this blog to my son, Grant.
The photo above was taken over the summer during Grant's photography expedition to Yosemite.
