99% of time we have been humans has been prehistoric and the wiring in our brain is much more attuned to that world than our own modern world.  That was fascinating to think about.  I hadn’t thought about the implications that has as our brain tries to adapt to a more modern world, but the hard-wiring of the brain is pretty set and change does not happen quickly.  The other thing that really surprised me from the talk was about the evolutionary science of our brain and when we think about how we as humans are wired, our wiring hasn’t caught up with our current world.   Thinking out my kids with this information fresh in my mind changes the way I think about parenting my children.  It really forced me to think about how my kids are wired.  This isn’t to say that the environment doesn’t have an impact, but it sheds a light on some things.

On Tuesday, I went to a talk for the early childhood parents presented by Dr. Tim Jordan (a Developmental and Behavioral Pediatrician).  It was a very enlightening discussion and one that made me realize that I have choices as a parent.  I can either parent the way I want to or I can parent the way my kids need me to.

We also learned about the real innate differences in the male brain and the female brain.   I learned that boys (men) tune out what they deem as white noise when they are focused on something else.  So, often when I am asking Noah what he wants for breakfast or to put on his shoes, and he is doing something else, he isn’t purposefully ignoring me.  His brain is hardwired to be able to tune out distractions.  On the other hand, when Zoë has to talk about something 4,567 times it isn’t to be annoying, but because she is trying to process it and understand it.  It is fascinating.  I can’t wait to read more about these differences.

The choice seems simple, but it isn’t.  Clearly it isn’t, as I have a long way to go to even begin to be proficient at this.

As I think about my parenting decisions, most of them are made based on what I think should happen, etc.  I realize that I haven’t been listening to my children as much as I thought I was and certainly not in any consistent manner.

We have a lot of power struggles in my house.  I need to take responsibility for that. There can only be a struggle if more than one person is involved.

It is hard.  I want to be in control of everything.  But that is not possible and it really clashes with the kids own developmental need for control and power.

So, I will work to strike a balance and be the mom that my kids need me to be.  It’s isn’t going to be easy.  But nothing worth doing or having is often easy.

 

The mice come out to play. But the ironic (or irritating–depending on how you look at it) is that the cats (the real live furry ones) were at home.  We had a family (I use that loosely) of mice living in our sunflower patch this summer.  I could watch them from the safety of my sunroom, as they scurried up the stalks to eat all the seeds.  Bill would kindly remind me that once it gets cold they won’t be cute as they find their way inside the house.

I know that was true.  I detest mice and rats.  They freak me out.  It is comical.  I’ll squeal and….quite frankly it is a bit embarrassing.  But I knew it was inevitable.

Last night as we went to bed, I saw the telltale signs of a mouse.  One of our cats was sitting on the kitchen floor staring with a laser-like focus at the stove.  I immediately thought about how fast I might pack a bag and stay at a hotel.  Because as fate would have it–Bill is out of town.  My mouse wrangling protector was no where to be found.

I didn’t think much more about it, until about 5:30 this morning when I heard one of the cats in the bathtub.  She was clearly “playing” with something.  This is a cat who has a play instinct, but no killer instinct.  So, I did what any self-respecting mom would do–I made my kids go look in the bathtub.

I let the dogs outside and heard the first report that she was playing with a wash cloth.  Okay I thought.  Then Noah screamed–IT’S A MOUSE.  COOKIE HAS A MOUSE.

All I could think was You have got to fucking kidding me. 

The kids laughed and screamed that it was trying to get out.

They asked questions:  Why is the cat smelling it? 

I wanted to know:  Why the hell isn’t the cat eating it? 

I mustered all my willpower–as I couldn’t very well ask my 6 year old to trap the mouse and get him outside–could I? I surveyed the situation.  The mouse was not getting out of the bathtub and the cat was not going to eat him.  They looked a lot more like close friends than hunter and prey.  Looking back I wish I would have grabbed my phone and snapped a quick pic, but in reality I was really trying to just hold my shit together.

Zoë of course thought he was cute and Noah suggested we stab it.  I was totally shocked by that suggestion and he rationalized that it wasn’t any different than a spider and I step on those.  He later explained he wanted to take it to school and knew he couldn’t take it to school alive. I’m still a bit thrown back by that comment, as it was completely out of character.

Anyway, I got a tupperware container and a piece of cardboard.  I trapped the mouse in the container and then used the cardboard to keep him in there.  We then went outside and released him far away in the neighbors yard (their house is vacant).  Noah let me know that he was pretty sure the mouse knew where we lived.

I had to let my husband know of the dangers I survived while he is off on a business trip.  I like that he responded FUN.  It was certainly not fun and this is the 2nd time this has happened when he was out of town.  Last time my Aunt was over and she helped save the day, while I squealed like a little girl.

If it comes back–I am going to the Four Seasons.