Revelation mothers of large families

 





frame from the film "Yours, mine and ours"

Only now that I have four children, I learned to calmly respond to the bold statement the other parents: that their children would never imagine something "such" did not allow that their children are never treated with antibiotics that their children have two years to draw men, and eight can twenty push-UPS. I calmly say: "75% of my children also would never imagine this is not allowed, 50% of my kids never treated with antibiotics, 25% of my children in two years learned to draw men and half quietly pressed not even twenty, and twenty five times"

Ten years ago, when I was a young mother of one boy Sasha, it seemed to me that I know about the children's education all. Namely, that my child is an example of complete parental and pedagogical failure of my maternal career, barely begun, came to an inglorious end. Sasha grew uncontrollable, violent and middle school showed no artistic inclinations or talents. At all. I did everything I could to develop his intelligence with learned by heart knew of the Montessori method, Zaitseva, Doman, Nikitin, buying magazines with articles about child psychology, sewing for baby toys, rag letters, stuffed with buckwheat, and put classical music and show albums with paintings of the Renaissance.

But, still learning to stand on my feet, my firstborn became a tyrant, his PR and uncompromising, terrorizing the entire family. With him nowhere to go – two attempts to visit the coffee shop and restaurant has been crowned with failure, uneaten food and nedoumevala-angry glances of other visitors. Because Sasha, eighteen months old, smart boy, just yelled. He yelled at the house, he yelled in all crowded places, he yelled and didn't listen to everywhere we visited. Home he took out all the appliances, which could get even razvintili office chair! For half a year somehow nolavconsole contact with him, I was filled with skepticism in relation to many methods of development of children's intelligence – I decided that they invented a) for girls b) for decent parents, not those rags like me.

When I was a mom of only one boy Sasha, it seemed to me that I know about children's health all. Sasha, who is eleven now – no pain. Never. At all. As soon as the baby healed navel I began to put him, naked, in a chemise, on a blanket spread out on the floor. The baby grew and developed without hats, and socks, got in unlimited quantities breast milk, slept with their parents for up to two years, and was transportable to the sea, in a camp with sand and "unsanitary conditions" in six months. His diaper was never gladiolis, and the dishes are not sterilized. So when friends mom complained that their children were sick, I had my own strong opinion on this subject: but themselves to blame. To coddle is not needed. And breast feed at least a year and a half.

And then I gave birth to Katya. If Katya was the first and my only child, I would definitely have joined the mothers who stood on the sidelines with his neat obedient little one and watching someone else's ugly tantrum, said, "that's my girl never would imagine this is not allowed!" and put a decent fat plus. Katya was one of those babies, which are written puzzled by other people's troubles parents: "why are you moping, you need to relax. Feel free to take the child with her in the backpack and go for a walk, go to the exhibition, go to the movies, to visit – is not confined within four walls and don't be afraid to carry the baby with you!". Kate from the very first days slept in their own crib, in another room (something unthinkable in the context of baby Sasha) and could spend hours lying there, regarding dangling along the side of the toy, while her older brother happily engaged on the carpet nearby. Children's jealousy? I have these words did not know my maternal self-esteem soared. Katina for the first two months we traveled all over the Kiev and partly in Chernihiv region. No problems stayed at a roadside cafe, I even took Kate with him to College and the library!

But in three months, something bad happened. My daughter not only is a fever – she started coughing. I was sure that this does not happen, it's not my reality – to give the child some medicine, led to the doctor... it seemed to Me that you just have less panic, more breast milk, wear on the handles and all will be well. That's what I without a doubt recommend it to other moms who have sick children. I was sure it's not children get sick and their mothers have nothing to do. But the cough has somehow failed. The doctor prescribed us some antibiotics a week ago (an-ti-bi-o-ti-Ki? Never in my life!) said firmly, so that even I listened, "you need to go to the hospital. Immediately. At any moment the girl may develop pneumonia."

For two weeks we spent in the hospital, getting injections and all sorts of treatment. I became more cautious. Daughter was ill on average every three months – any virus flying through the air like pelmets meek helplessness of this delicate fragile blond girl and she gets sick. And as sick! If the temperature rises, not less than thirty-nine! And at least two weeks of sitting at home we are guaranteed. In five years, in late spring, when her brother was already swimming and chasing barefoot, on a hot may, Katusha managed to catch double pneumonia. At seven, in the summer, too – strong sore throat. Eight – two in a row pyelonephritis. Thanks Katya, I learned to "read" the blood and urine tests, learned how to do injections and when to breed antibiotic powder for injection. We are well known in at least three hospitals in the city. Why?.. What did I do wrong? The answer to this question, I have not received.

And now before me were two completely different child. Born from the same parents who use the same food, living in one room – and amazingly, incredibly different! Unthinkable, impossible for Sasha things his sister does with ease like no it wasn't taught. At the same time, Sasha's self-discipline, orderliness, responsibility – alien "flying in the clouds" the Katyusha. Our oldest girl almost did not go to kindergarten and could sit for hours, folding puzzles (Sasha, to a certain age, these puzzles ate) and drew great pictures. Listened to books that I could read to her from morning till evening.

As if on her own without anyone's help, learned to read and write. But Sasha first six months of school was an ordeal! From kindergarten my firstborn was released with a recommendation to "individual learning", and frankly, in seven years he was absolutely not ready for school. By inertia, I continued for several years to consider themselves the mother is a loser in every way and was justified in front of a teacher, but in fifth grade it turned out that Sasha is very good with math. Moreover, he began to read thick novels from the "Library of adventure" and children's classics and also tricky to draw the engineering drawings and topographic maps.

I really wanted to send him to some club, but he never caught on until we came to karate. For four years, Sasha has achieved considerable success, earning a blue belt and abs. The son grew up, posolidnel and has become a real support in the family – responsible, organized, able to wash dishes, to cook for all the delicious Breakfast, to change a tire in the car and do a lot of other useful things. And, most importantly, he is very kind and helpful.

When Sasha was in the first class, I had Euphrosyne with Nikita. From the first cursory glance at this couple, it became clear who is who. As different as day and night, they are not what is not like brother and sister and generally relatives! Blond, blue-eyed, with a spout-a button Erosia were by nature the complete antithesis of her older sister (tender, thin-skinned, quiet) and much calmer Sasha at the same age. If Sasha "took her" shouting, Euphrosyne comes up with more sophisticated and artistic ways. She's perky, confident and very harmful. She's one of all four of my children to the remark with a stern voice, stare in the eye and ask: "What is it, mom?" Looking for a Euphrosyne, I often want to exclaim: "My daughter would never imagine this would not be allowed!". At the same time, when Euphrosyne begins to draw – all a breathtaking how sure get strokes and lines from under her tiny chubby fingers.

Her half-brother Nikita, born seven minutes later, brown-eyed (the only one out of the four), bony, quiet, stubborn and touchy. Looking at this couple, you know, I see like two halves of a single whole, supplementing each other. Nikita, when just born, was like a tiny character Vizina of "operation y". Quiet, melancholic, prone to not quite legitimate actions. Nikita prefers to be the "slave" sister and behind it the mountain.

In the Park in celebration of his birthday was able to yank a four-year Euphrosyne of adult "tube" that it is not something that I was not scared, and reacted with cautious approval to serious, saying that "not terribly well." Nikita also filled in a rubber ring with straps, barely mastered the tiny baby slide, a height of five feet and flatly refused to investigate the more serious entertainment.

When the gang of young robbers turned two, I decided to give them to kindergarten. For many years I was a staunch opponent of all sorts of preschool institutions. The eldest son went there about half a year and suffered greatly. But the circumstances of my life and work were so in such a way that other options remained. My daughter went about a year and suffered even more. Kindergarten, this is probably the worst (except hospitals of course) that ever happened in her life.

Sasha and Katya attracted little dance recitals, group lessons, dances and life in society. Of course, after a couple weeks I got used, they stopped crying in the morning, in the locker room, but as I continued to cry from the realization that my children do not belong there. "A maximum of six years. In the preparatory group" — I was thinking earlier, "not understanding" parents who praise these gardens. And suddenly – shock. Konavoska were barely two, they just learned to go potty and still does not know how to dress – and I'm taking them to kindergarten.

My eldest daughter sat near me a few years before school: quiet as a mouse, something drawing and cutting out pictures. But in nature there are children who garden live shows. Poorly managed, active, bored at home, ready for teamwork Erosie and Nikita were eager to play on the Playground children were busy with them, terrorized parents and brother and sister and I just had no choice. At that point, I realized that as a mom understand absolutely nothing about children and motherhood.

I believed that in order for the child is not sick, just need to temper and not to give antibiotics "on the first sneeze". It worked with exactly half of my children! Once (albeit briefly) I thought the hysteria on the street, PRS and terrible behaviour depends on parental education. Indeed – I was able to educate a whole child, who never cried on the street, no home! I thought that the hard mode of the day and feeding the remnants of the past, but the experience with the twins has shown that if we have no mode, then these children will not become moms.

At precisely nine o'clock the house begins retreat, and at seven in the morning rise. A few years ago we all went when I wanted and woke up too when I can. This situation seemed to me to be progressive and "green". I believed that the talent of each child and manifests itself at an early age, it all depends on the parental perseverance. In fact, it turned out that everything is very individual and parental perseverance should be manifest first of all in the development of the child's feeling that his love unconditionally, whatever it was.

I sincerely do not understand and even resent those friends who asked why I don't give Katyusha in the garden. Now I understand that despite the experience, I absolutely can not do anything to anyone to advise. All babies are different and, it turns out, only mother knows what is really right for her child and how the "right" to treat and educate. Perhaps this is the only advice I can give without a doubt in their own right.

Author: Olga Yatsenko

Source: d-yatsenko.livejournal.com/113123.html