Since this blog applies to both my kiddos, I'm posting the same one in both places (my son's blog is williamplavinsmom.blogspot.com and my daughters is elizabethplavinsmom.blogspot.com for those who want to follow our adventures).
I belong to a mom's club and recently in the "kid in the spotlight section" of our newsletter one of the kids answered the question "what is mom's job?" in the following way:
"to keep the house clean and take care of us."
At first, the old feminist in me bristled at this and then I asked myself "why"? I am proud of my clean house, my home-cooked meals, my well-cared for kids, my son's "school time" that I do with him, etc. After all, if I were back to my old job, I would have to pay someone to watch my kids and I value that job so much that when I WAS a working mom we intereviewed quite a few people before we found our day care provider. If I didn't have the time to clean my house, I would pay someone to do that. So why was I feeling like what I did wasn't important? And then I realized it's because I was letting what others thought get the best of me. I was forgetting the awesome job I have and the awesome partnership I have with my husband that lets me do it to my fullest.
So many people (unfortunately men in particular, but women as well) look down on stay-at-home mothers (or fathers these days) and/or think of them as living a life of liesure. Since becoming a stay-at-home mom, I've found the old stereotypes alive and well as I've discovered my two least favorite phrases are "so what do you do all day?" from either nonparents or working parents and "but I worked all day" from the working 1/2 of husband and wife team where one stays at home (as an excuse to do absolutely nothing upon arriving home from work).
Well, I've never been one to live my life based on what others think and I'm not going to start now.
So to the latter statement I say - "SO DID YOUR WIFE OR HUSBAND WHO WAS HOME ALL DAY WITH THE KIDS!!! AND THEIR DAY STARTED BEFORE YOURS AND ENDED AFTER YOURS!!".
And as to the former statement here (so I may never forget) is 24 hours taken from this week and just remember that this "job" is one I don't get to quit at 5:00, I don't get a break from on weekends and that I do whether I'm sick, well, had 8 hours of sleep or only 3, have a migraine or a sinus infection. It's a job that starts at 5:45 am and ends around 11:30 pm:
5:45 am - woken by baby, nursed until 6:15 am
6:15 am - 6:45 am pumped milk to store for later
6:45 am - 8:00 am did yoga and showered, brushed teeth , dried hair
8:00 am - 8:30 am nursed baby in one arm while playing "clone troopers" with my 3 year old with the free hand
8:30 am - 9:00 am pumped milk with one hand while continuing to play clone troopers with my 3 year old with the other hand
9:00 am - 9:10 am made baby oatmeal and steamed apple chunks for breakfast
9:10 am - 9:40 am made family breakfast while running back & forth to baby's booster to feed her her breakfast
9:40 am - 10:20 am ate breakfast with family (yes, it takes this long with a 3 year old)
10:20 am - 10:40 am put baby down for morning nap and cleaned up breakfast dishes/counters, etc.
10:40 am - 11:15 am did "school time" with my 3 year old
11:15 am - 11:20 am cleaned up school time and started bringing out toys for 3 year old
11:20 am - 12:00 pm nursed baby & pumped again and played with 3 year old at the same time
12:00 pm - 12:20 pm played with both kids (and threw some laundry in for good measure)
12:20 pm - 12:45 pm made baby's lunch and our lunch
12:45 pm - 1:15 pm ate with kids
1:15 pm - 2:00 pm got kids upstairs, to the potty/diaper change, did some toy "cleanup time" with 3 year old, read stories and put them down for afternoon naps
2:00 pm - 4:00 pm cleaned up lunch mess, cleaned up baby's toys, folded laundry, put in two more loads of laundry, started some dinner prep and cleaned one toilet
4:00 pm - 5:15 pm nursed baby & pumped again, spent some "floor time" playing with baby
5:15 pm - 5:45 pm both kids now up, spent some play time and then clean up time with them and hubby
5:45 pm - 6:40 pm prepared baby's dinner and then our own
6:40 pm - 7:25 pm fed baby and ate dinner with the family
7:25 pm - 8:05 pm while hubby did dishes and cleaned up kitchen, I bathed & dressed baby and then bathed & dressed 3 year old, brushed his teeth and hair
8:05 pm - 9:00 pm while hubby fed baby, I read to 3 year old and conked out from exhaustion for about 20 minutes in his bed while we had his lullabyes on
9:00 pm - 9:30 pm pre-prepped tomorrow's breakfast and packed lunches for tomorrow's morning playtime at Tiny Tots
9:30 pm - 10:00 pm organized clothes for Tiny Tots clothing exchange while watching TV with hubby
10:00 pm - 11:00 pm put away more laundry and planned grocery list while watching more TV with hubby
11:00 pm - 11:30 pm got car packed up for tomorrow's outing to Tiny Tots and got ready for bed.
11:30 - 5:45 am slept until baby woke me again.
This is how my "work day" goes. And I'm proud of it. I'm proud to be a stay-at-home mom. I'm honored to know so many stay-at-home moms and dads who work so hard and I'm honored to know the spouses who actually support those who stay-at-home not just financially, but with thanks, love and by pitching in when they get home because they understand that their spouse also "worked all day." And I'm proud to say that one reason I can enjoy my job is because I have an equal partner in life, in marriage and in child rearing.
I'm horrified to say that my new life has unfortunately introduced me to too many who do not have supportive spouses (except financially.) I feel so blessed to have the husband I have, although quite frankly, I would have settled for nothing less. Too many I've met have settled for less and work their fingers to the bone while feeling resentful and underappreciated. And with them I share a verse I love from the Bible that is the key to a successful partnership:
Ephesians 5:21 says "submit to one another out of reverence for Christ".
Now, even if you're not a Christian and reverence doesn't factor in... the first part is the key. It's the part often left out of wedding vows and or exhortations to husbands and wives. To submit literally means to "defer to another" or to "accept another's will" and I've always said that I have no problem giving to Mike completely without thought for myself because he in turn does the same. He doesn't sit around like a king letting me do all the submitting (and to those who wonder, no he's not a Christian. yet he acts more like one that most I know). He gives and I give. We don't have to worry about caring for ourselves because we know the other will care for us. And most importantly, we BOTH care for our kids. We both "work", cook, clean, change diapers, wipe butts, give baths, read stories, tuck in, clean up vomit, discipline and love. We submit to one another.
So let me say again, I'm proud to be a stay-at-home mom and I'm good at it. I'm proud of the partnership I've forged with my husband and someday, lest either one of my children ever THINK of uttering one of my two hated phrases or forget to appreciate the work done by their own spouses or parents, I will show them this blog to let them know how awesome a job-well-done can be.
Friday, December 18, 2009
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Who IS this kid...
Okay, so I keep finding myself asking this question of late because William has said or done something so charming, funny, clever, etc... that I think, he can't have come from me! Here are some of his better most recent moments:
1) After a long day watching two of my friend's kids on top of my own and a HORRIBLE night with Elizabeth (growth spurt?) and William (growing pains) and Mike being out of town, I was particularly exhausted this past Thursday morning when William got up (Elizabeth had fallen back to sleep). He's in my bed and when I tell him mommy is SOOOO tired he says, "that's okay mommy. Why don't I go out and lie on the green couch and watch something and you can just stay here in your bed and sleep some more?" I look at him incredulously and say "are you serious?" (he's always afraid to be without me, even if I'm just in the next room). He says, "sure, just leave your door open" (my door opens out into the living room). So I figure, I'll give it a shot. He sits quietly on the couch for an hour watching Sprout TV and then when I wake up says, "there mommy, do you feel better now?" And I did! What a guy.
2) On Tuesday of this past week was the day Mike left for his most recent work travels and I'm always a tad bummed when Mike's gone. I mean, there's always that small part of you that enjoys the freedom of getting to cook all the things he hates for dinner, or just eating cereal for dinner, etc... but for the most part, Mike is my best friend and it's just not that much fun around here without him. So as we're sitting there having dinner without Mike and I'm doing my best to be totally chipper and fun (and yes, I cooked something he would have hated), William takes to petting my hair the way I do to calm him or put him to sleep. I look over at him and he asks "is that okay." I said, "uh yeah, sure, why?" And he replies with, "I was trying to make you feel better. Are you less sad now?" "Do I seem sad?" I ask. And he says, "yeah, just a little though. better now?" I just gave that kid the biggest hug ever.
3) We have started a "positive reinforcement" method of discipline with William so that we don't always use time-outs or taking things away. It consists of a magnet board divided into "Good" and "Bad" and we encourage him to earn good magnets with good behavior, helping out, etc. It's been a wonderful thing and if he earns a sufficiently larger ratio of good to bad magnets, he gets a special something at the end of the week. It can be a toy, the right to sleep in mom & dad's bed, the right to nap in his tent, a "trip" with dad, etc. Well, this recent development (as well as his increasing exposure to birthdays and holidays) has taught him about "the store". As in, the store is a place where you buy things. The funny part is, he seems to have decided that everything has it's own separate store. The other day he tells me that I need to go to the "Diver Doug" store and buy him a Diver Doug costume (character on a British TV show shown on Sprout). I tell him that there's no such store and he replies, "well... where will you get my costume then?!" (you note, he assumes I'll actually buy him one!)
4) William now understands the concept of Santa because we keep telling him that he can't have everything he wants and that he needs to be good and ask Santa for some items. Apparently, gone are the days of making a list, baking cookies and waiting. No, in this instant-gratification world, my son has decided that communication with Santa needs to be instantaneous. More than once in the past couple months when he's expressed his desire for something and I've told him he can ask Santa for it later he replies with, "no, why don't you just call Santa right now?". Jeez, next thing you know, he'll be asking me to text Santa!
5) I joined a Mom's Club so I could commune with other stay-at-home-moms and so the kiddos could socialize. Recently, I attended our monthly meeting and since we got a "sitter" to watch the kids, they were to play in the huge indoor playground at the church while we moms met upstairs. Not 5 minutes after our meeting started, the sitter came into the meeting room with my red-eyed son saying he was looking for me and had gotten upset. When I told him that I brought him here so that he could play in the indoor playground while I met with the moms he said "no." When I asked him why he didn't want to play with the other kids his reply was, "I just want to stay here with you... because I love you." (Enter a huge chorus of AWWWWWWWW's from the other moms in the room). Needless to say, my son has now charmed his way into the hearts of my fellow moms.
As I observe my son and all his funny thoughts and ideas I can't help but wonder how he'll be in the future... and even more, how he and his sister will band together to charm, wheedle, plot and reason their way into even more funny stories. God help me... I'll need it.
1) After a long day watching two of my friend's kids on top of my own and a HORRIBLE night with Elizabeth (growth spurt?) and William (growing pains) and Mike being out of town, I was particularly exhausted this past Thursday morning when William got up (Elizabeth had fallen back to sleep). He's in my bed and when I tell him mommy is SOOOO tired he says, "that's okay mommy. Why don't I go out and lie on the green couch and watch something and you can just stay here in your bed and sleep some more?" I look at him incredulously and say "are you serious?" (he's always afraid to be without me, even if I'm just in the next room). He says, "sure, just leave your door open" (my door opens out into the living room). So I figure, I'll give it a shot. He sits quietly on the couch for an hour watching Sprout TV and then when I wake up says, "there mommy, do you feel better now?" And I did! What a guy.
2) On Tuesday of this past week was the day Mike left for his most recent work travels and I'm always a tad bummed when Mike's gone. I mean, there's always that small part of you that enjoys the freedom of getting to cook all the things he hates for dinner, or just eating cereal for dinner, etc... but for the most part, Mike is my best friend and it's just not that much fun around here without him. So as we're sitting there having dinner without Mike and I'm doing my best to be totally chipper and fun (and yes, I cooked something he would have hated), William takes to petting my hair the way I do to calm him or put him to sleep. I look over at him and he asks "is that okay." I said, "uh yeah, sure, why?" And he replies with, "I was trying to make you feel better. Are you less sad now?" "Do I seem sad?" I ask. And he says, "yeah, just a little though. better now?" I just gave that kid the biggest hug ever.
3) We have started a "positive reinforcement" method of discipline with William so that we don't always use time-outs or taking things away. It consists of a magnet board divided into "Good" and "Bad" and we encourage him to earn good magnets with good behavior, helping out, etc. It's been a wonderful thing and if he earns a sufficiently larger ratio of good to bad magnets, he gets a special something at the end of the week. It can be a toy, the right to sleep in mom & dad's bed, the right to nap in his tent, a "trip" with dad, etc. Well, this recent development (as well as his increasing exposure to birthdays and holidays) has taught him about "the store". As in, the store is a place where you buy things. The funny part is, he seems to have decided that everything has it's own separate store. The other day he tells me that I need to go to the "Diver Doug" store and buy him a Diver Doug costume (character on a British TV show shown on Sprout). I tell him that there's no such store and he replies, "well... where will you get my costume then?!" (you note, he assumes I'll actually buy him one!)
4) William now understands the concept of Santa because we keep telling him that he can't have everything he wants and that he needs to be good and ask Santa for some items. Apparently, gone are the days of making a list, baking cookies and waiting. No, in this instant-gratification world, my son has decided that communication with Santa needs to be instantaneous. More than once in the past couple months when he's expressed his desire for something and I've told him he can ask Santa for it later he replies with, "no, why don't you just call Santa right now?". Jeez, next thing you know, he'll be asking me to text Santa!
5) I joined a Mom's Club so I could commune with other stay-at-home-moms and so the kiddos could socialize. Recently, I attended our monthly meeting and since we got a "sitter" to watch the kids, they were to play in the huge indoor playground at the church while we moms met upstairs. Not 5 minutes after our meeting started, the sitter came into the meeting room with my red-eyed son saying he was looking for me and had gotten upset. When I told him that I brought him here so that he could play in the indoor playground while I met with the moms he said "no." When I asked him why he didn't want to play with the other kids his reply was, "I just want to stay here with you... because I love you." (Enter a huge chorus of AWWWWWWWW's from the other moms in the room). Needless to say, my son has now charmed his way into the hearts of my fellow moms.
As I observe my son and all his funny thoughts and ideas I can't help but wonder how he'll be in the future... and even more, how he and his sister will band together to charm, wheedle, plot and reason their way into even more funny stories. God help me... I'll need it.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Say that again...
Childhood mispronunciations are very common (the typical one being pisgetti for spaghetti) and I was always irritated when they were used in commercials because (not being a parent) I thought... why do you want to encourage children to be idiots? But now I realize, that while I want William to grow up speaking properly (you don't AX someone a question, you ASK it... and the next adult I hear say otherwise, I'm going to backhand)... I am going to enjoy his fun, endearing little mispronunciations while I can, because they just kill me. To date... here are some of his best:
efalant = elephant
tefelone = telephone
instruction = construction
alligator = elevator (this is a particular favorite because I love to see people's faces when he asks me if we can take the alligator)
lesterday = yesterday
flamgango = flamingo
sketti - spaghetti
The best one, by far, however, was a one time mispronunciation that caused a lot of confusion and laughter recently. The following is our conversation at the table:
William: Mommy, Daddy... can I have some swami rules? (we stare at him blankly and then look at each other)
Me: Hon, what did you just hear?
Mike (shaking his head): Swami Rules?
Me: That's what I heard too.
Mike: What did you want William?
William: Swami Rules! (he's indignant now)
Me: I'm sorry... say that again?
William: Swami Rules!!
Me: what do they look like? (William looks at me like I'm insane)
Mike: do you play with them?
William: NO! You KNOW... swami rules.
Me: where would I find them?
William: the frigerator!
Mike: You eat them?
William: (he cannot believe we're this dumb) Yeah! Swami rules!!
Mike: Do you mean SALAMI rolls? (I roll up his lunch meat so he can just eat it like finger food since he doesn't actually eat sandwiches)
William: (long pause)... YES, sa-la-mi rolls (saying it real slowly)
Mike and I laughed so hard (mostly with relief) and brought him his lunch. We could not believe it took us that long to give our poor kid some lunch, but Jesus.. swami rules?
The other mispronunciation that I love I also have to tell a story with because it will show you just how clever and plotting 3 year olds can be. William has trouble with the word "pretend". It often comes out as "atend" or "tend"... but the reason I love hearing it so much is that William uses it not during playtime, but as a clever method to try to get what he wants. Case in point: We all go get ice cream a few weeks ago (when it was still hot) and I get coffee ice cream and I get William chocolate. The following is a little peek into how my son's brain works:
William: mommy, can I try yours?
Me: sure William, I don't think you'll like it, it's coffee flavored. You have yummy chocolate.
Willam: but can I try?
Me: sure!
William (after tasting): mmmmm.... that's good
Me: cool, glad you like it.
William: can I try some more?
Me: sure! (but now he's trying many bites and not eating his own)
Me: hey William, why don't you eat your ice cream and let me eat mine. You have all that yummy chocolate.
William: ummmm... i like yours.
Me: well, you need to eat yours.
William: wanna trade?
Me: no thank you William, just eat your chocolate and you can share some of mine.
William (after a long time of eating his own): Mommy, wanna 'tend I'm the mommy and you're the son? (he often asks to play this game so he can repeat something I've said back to me)
Me: sure!
William (taking our ice cream bowls and switching them): okay! then let's 'tend this is my ice cream and chocolate is yours! (and begins digging into my coffee ice cream)
I just laughed and "pretended" with him. He couldn't finish all mine, so I did end up getting some of my own ice cream. Lesson learned - order him coffee ice cream next time!!!
efalant = elephant
tefelone = telephone
instruction = construction
alligator = elevator (this is a particular favorite because I love to see people's faces when he asks me if we can take the alligator)
lesterday = yesterday
flamgango = flamingo
sketti - spaghetti
The best one, by far, however, was a one time mispronunciation that caused a lot of confusion and laughter recently. The following is our conversation at the table:
William: Mommy, Daddy... can I have some swami rules? (we stare at him blankly and then look at each other)
Me: Hon, what did you just hear?
Mike (shaking his head): Swami Rules?
Me: That's what I heard too.
Mike: What did you want William?
William: Swami Rules! (he's indignant now)
Me: I'm sorry... say that again?
William: Swami Rules!!
Me: what do they look like? (William looks at me like I'm insane)
Mike: do you play with them?
William: NO! You KNOW... swami rules.
Me: where would I find them?
William: the frigerator!
Mike: You eat them?
William: (he cannot believe we're this dumb) Yeah! Swami rules!!
Mike: Do you mean SALAMI rolls? (I roll up his lunch meat so he can just eat it like finger food since he doesn't actually eat sandwiches)
William: (long pause)... YES, sa-la-mi rolls (saying it real slowly)
Mike and I laughed so hard (mostly with relief) and brought him his lunch. We could not believe it took us that long to give our poor kid some lunch, but Jesus.. swami rules?
The other mispronunciation that I love I also have to tell a story with because it will show you just how clever and plotting 3 year olds can be. William has trouble with the word "pretend". It often comes out as "atend" or "tend"... but the reason I love hearing it so much is that William uses it not during playtime, but as a clever method to try to get what he wants. Case in point: We all go get ice cream a few weeks ago (when it was still hot) and I get coffee ice cream and I get William chocolate. The following is a little peek into how my son's brain works:
William: mommy, can I try yours?
Me: sure William, I don't think you'll like it, it's coffee flavored. You have yummy chocolate.
Willam: but can I try?
Me: sure!
William (after tasting): mmmmm.... that's good
Me: cool, glad you like it.
William: can I try some more?
Me: sure! (but now he's trying many bites and not eating his own)
Me: hey William, why don't you eat your ice cream and let me eat mine. You have all that yummy chocolate.
William: ummmm... i like yours.
Me: well, you need to eat yours.
William: wanna trade?
Me: no thank you William, just eat your chocolate and you can share some of mine.
William (after a long time of eating his own): Mommy, wanna 'tend I'm the mommy and you're the son? (he often asks to play this game so he can repeat something I've said back to me)
Me: sure!
William (taking our ice cream bowls and switching them): okay! then let's 'tend this is my ice cream and chocolate is yours! (and begins digging into my coffee ice cream)
I just laughed and "pretended" with him. He couldn't finish all mine, so I did end up getting some of my own ice cream. Lesson learned - order him coffee ice cream next time!!!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
The Thrill of Victory... The Agony of Defeat
Moments in early motherhood can often make one think one of two things - #1 "Did I sign up for this?" or #2 "This is the best job ever!" Thank God, I find myself thinking more of the latter than the former. But truth be told... there are moments when I wonder if a totally sane person decides to be a parent. Here are some of my favorite moments in recent history that have prompted the use of the phrases listed above:
#1 - WHATEVER!! Recently, while at a friend's house, my husband instructed my son not to do something. When he failed to listen my husband said, "William take a time out!" To which William replied, "WhatEVER!". Okay, he's THREE! Shouldn't there be a one in front of that number before we hear this phrase spat at us in an exasperated tone? I mean seriously... whatEVER! Who does this kid think he is? Mike and I stared incredulously at eachother (and each secretly reminded ourselves that beating a child is not a good idea). Now, I would love to deflect blame for this onto some unsuspecting older child at day care, but the truth is, it's probably my fault. I have found myself muttering (okay, also maybe yelled once or twice) "whatever" at William when I'm just done with his antics and have to walk away. Ooops. Way to go mom.
#2 - FINE!! Again, this phrase was spat at me with all the disgust William could muster one evening when I told him that he had lost his bedtime stories due to bad behavior. And again, the blame for this probably lays on my shoulders. STILL... to have a 3 year old yelling "Fine" at you like some kind of teenager who has been grounded is INFURIATING and would be funny if I weren't tired and working very hard to control my frustration so that I don't look like a hypocrite when I tell my son not to yell when he's frustrated.
#3 - Want to make yourself another? This phrase was uttered to my husband in one of those moments that makes you so thankful to be a parent and get to watch how children learn to reason and think. William had sat down to the lunch he SAID he wanted, however, we have learned that what is on our plates always looks infinitely better to William. I'm off taking care of Elizabeth when Mike sits down next to William with little egg & cheese english muffin sandwiches that he has made for himself. William asks Mike, "Can we share?" (This is his way of eating all your lunch, but making it sound generous). Mike tells him he needs to finish his own lunch first. So William eats more, declares he is done with his food, and looks at Mike's now empty plate and asks where the sandwiches are. Mike says, "I ate them all." William takes this in, thinks for a moment and then asks, "Well, do you want to make yourself another one?" We DIED and agreed we have the cutest son EVER.
#4 - Daddy always turns the TV on! Mike and I take turns on the weekends getting up with the kids so that we can each have one "sleep in" day. It was one of my early days and I was playing upstairs with William when he asked if we could watch some TV. I told him no, too much TV was not a good thing and we could play or do a puzzle. He then grunt/shouted "aaaghgh!" and glared at me, yelling "Daddy always turns the TV on!" (#1 this isn't true and #2 since when did he try to start playing us off one another?!). When I just said, "well... I'm not Daddy" he then walked away and said, "I'm frustrated with you mommy!" Quite honestly, I was torn between laughing and killing him. Instead, I distracted myself with Elizabeth.
#5 - I'm not frustrated with you... just with HIM! So the other day, we're coming back from the park and William asks if he can watch TV when we get home. Mike and I both reply "no" and Mike reminds him that we've already told him it's time for stories and naps when we get home. William tries to argue with us, but we both tell him it's not up for debate. Now, somehow or another, he either decides that it's all Daddy being evil OR he has decided to again try to play us off one another to get what he wants. Because as I get him out of the car and he's grumbling to himself he smiles sweetly at me and says, "Hi Mommy! It's okay... I'm not frustrated with you, I'm just frustrated with HIM!" and he nods his head toward his Daddy. I cannot BELIEVE this and want terribly to laugh, but we're in a concerted effort to teach him good behavior, so I tell him that I agree with Daddy and it's stories & nap time, so he needs to behave or he'll lose stories. He then says, "okay mommy... I'll go with you. I'm not frustrated at you... just him." Oh my god.
#6 - Don't get frustrated with her! So my son is protective of his sister, I'm discovering, and it's producing some really endearing moments. My favorite was recently when I was feeling REALLY badly about not getting to play with William because Elizabeth was having a REALLY off day and was constantly eating and never sleeping. So FINALLY, late in the afternoon, I think I'm going to get some one-on-one time with him when she passes out from exhaustion. Only, after 10 minutes of playing I hear her SCREAMING bloody murder from her crib and she's actually hungry AGAIN. I shout "AAAAAAGGGGHHHH! You're killing me!" at the top of my lungs as I walk over to her crib. William marches (and yes, I mean MARCHES) in right on my heels and is looking at me VERY seriously. He furrows his brown and says very calmly, very sternly... "Mommy! You cannot be frustrated with her, she is just a baby!" What a guy.
#7 - I'm so glad... This might be my best moment ever so far in parenting. It has been quite an adventure and an exercise in transition for both William and I since I started staying home. I had to work full time with him and now that I stay home, we have both had to get used to the changes: new baby sister, less rigid schedule, less time with the friends he got very used to at daycare, etc. I was, for a while, fearing that my decision to stay home was impacting William negatively. So I worked on sort of having a schedule at home, joining a Mom's club so he could play with other kids, etc. Well, one day, not too long ago we were walking home from the park and William chose to hold my hand (he doesn't do this often anymore as he's in his "I'll do it myself" phase). All of a sudden, he looked up at me and said, "Mommy?" "Yes William?" I asked and he said, "I'm so glad to get to stay home with me... this is nice." Man, I'm telling you, I had to take a moment so that I wouldn't cry before saying, "Thanks bud, I'm glad I get to stay home too." Man... this is the life!
#1 - WHATEVER!! Recently, while at a friend's house, my husband instructed my son not to do something. When he failed to listen my husband said, "William take a time out!" To which William replied, "WhatEVER!". Okay, he's THREE! Shouldn't there be a one in front of that number before we hear this phrase spat at us in an exasperated tone? I mean seriously... whatEVER! Who does this kid think he is? Mike and I stared incredulously at eachother (and each secretly reminded ourselves that beating a child is not a good idea). Now, I would love to deflect blame for this onto some unsuspecting older child at day care, but the truth is, it's probably my fault. I have found myself muttering (okay, also maybe yelled once or twice) "whatever" at William when I'm just done with his antics and have to walk away. Ooops. Way to go mom.
#2 - FINE!! Again, this phrase was spat at me with all the disgust William could muster one evening when I told him that he had lost his bedtime stories due to bad behavior. And again, the blame for this probably lays on my shoulders. STILL... to have a 3 year old yelling "Fine" at you like some kind of teenager who has been grounded is INFURIATING and would be funny if I weren't tired and working very hard to control my frustration so that I don't look like a hypocrite when I tell my son not to yell when he's frustrated.
#3 - Want to make yourself another? This phrase was uttered to my husband in one of those moments that makes you so thankful to be a parent and get to watch how children learn to reason and think. William had sat down to the lunch he SAID he wanted, however, we have learned that what is on our plates always looks infinitely better to William. I'm off taking care of Elizabeth when Mike sits down next to William with little egg & cheese english muffin sandwiches that he has made for himself. William asks Mike, "Can we share?" (This is his way of eating all your lunch, but making it sound generous). Mike tells him he needs to finish his own lunch first. So William eats more, declares he is done with his food, and looks at Mike's now empty plate and asks where the sandwiches are. Mike says, "I ate them all." William takes this in, thinks for a moment and then asks, "Well, do you want to make yourself another one?" We DIED and agreed we have the cutest son EVER.
#4 - Daddy always turns the TV on! Mike and I take turns on the weekends getting up with the kids so that we can each have one "sleep in" day. It was one of my early days and I was playing upstairs with William when he asked if we could watch some TV. I told him no, too much TV was not a good thing and we could play or do a puzzle. He then grunt/shouted "aaaghgh!" and glared at me, yelling "Daddy always turns the TV on!" (#1 this isn't true and #2 since when did he try to start playing us off one another?!). When I just said, "well... I'm not Daddy" he then walked away and said, "I'm frustrated with you mommy!" Quite honestly, I was torn between laughing and killing him. Instead, I distracted myself with Elizabeth.
#5 - I'm not frustrated with you... just with HIM! So the other day, we're coming back from the park and William asks if he can watch TV when we get home. Mike and I both reply "no" and Mike reminds him that we've already told him it's time for stories and naps when we get home. William tries to argue with us, but we both tell him it's not up for debate. Now, somehow or another, he either decides that it's all Daddy being evil OR he has decided to again try to play us off one another to get what he wants. Because as I get him out of the car and he's grumbling to himself he smiles sweetly at me and says, "Hi Mommy! It's okay... I'm not frustrated with you, I'm just frustrated with HIM!" and he nods his head toward his Daddy. I cannot BELIEVE this and want terribly to laugh, but we're in a concerted effort to teach him good behavior, so I tell him that I agree with Daddy and it's stories & nap time, so he needs to behave or he'll lose stories. He then says, "okay mommy... I'll go with you. I'm not frustrated at you... just him." Oh my god.
#6 - Don't get frustrated with her! So my son is protective of his sister, I'm discovering, and it's producing some really endearing moments. My favorite was recently when I was feeling REALLY badly about not getting to play with William because Elizabeth was having a REALLY off day and was constantly eating and never sleeping. So FINALLY, late in the afternoon, I think I'm going to get some one-on-one time with him when she passes out from exhaustion. Only, after 10 minutes of playing I hear her SCREAMING bloody murder from her crib and she's actually hungry AGAIN. I shout "AAAAAAGGGGHHHH! You're killing me!" at the top of my lungs as I walk over to her crib. William marches (and yes, I mean MARCHES) in right on my heels and is looking at me VERY seriously. He furrows his brown and says very calmly, very sternly... "Mommy! You cannot be frustrated with her, she is just a baby!" What a guy.
#7 - I'm so glad... This might be my best moment ever so far in parenting. It has been quite an adventure and an exercise in transition for both William and I since I started staying home. I had to work full time with him and now that I stay home, we have both had to get used to the changes: new baby sister, less rigid schedule, less time with the friends he got very used to at daycare, etc. I was, for a while, fearing that my decision to stay home was impacting William negatively. So I worked on sort of having a schedule at home, joining a Mom's club so he could play with other kids, etc. Well, one day, not too long ago we were walking home from the park and William chose to hold my hand (he doesn't do this often anymore as he's in his "I'll do it myself" phase). All of a sudden, he looked up at me and said, "Mommy?" "Yes William?" I asked and he said, "I'm so glad to get to stay home with me... this is nice." Man, I'm telling you, I had to take a moment so that I wouldn't cry before saying, "Thanks bud, I'm glad I get to stay home too." Man... this is the life!
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Repetition, Repetition, Repetition
Bill Cosby has this hysterical album that I used to listen to with my dad called "To My Brother Russell, Whom I Slept With". In it he describes two year olds perfectly. He says, "they'll burn your life right out". They do this in two ways: #1 the "do it again" phenomenon. That's when you do something fun or funny (and usually something that makes you exert yourself in some fashion that you immediately regret) and the child's response is... " ha ha ha ha ha... do it again!". #2 is to ask the same question over and over and over again, no matter how many times you reply.
Kids, the above description is currently my life with William. I was just telling a mommy friend of mine, that motherhood is just basically repeating the same thing. Over and over and OVER. This is usually either because a) William isn't listening or b) he keeps asking even though I've answered.
Exhibit A: Mommy is giving William and Elizabeth a bath at the same time. This sucks because Elizabeth is still in the baby tub and William is in the big tub. So I sit right in between the two, alternating scrubbing, playing, drying and dressing so that both kids get clean and stay warm. So as I'm dressing Elizabeth the other night while the water drains from the big tub, I see William attempting to be "a big boy" and climb out by himself. Now life experience has taught me that wet-child+too-short-limbs+climbing-out-of-a-slippery-tub = pain. So I say, "William wait for mommy." Now, he has selective hearing because he can hear me whisper something about his bad behavior to his father from two rooms away (more on this later), but he cannot hear me from less that two feet away. I catch myself saying "William wait for mommy, William WAIT for mommy, WILLIAM WAIT FOR MOMMY!" while he proceeds to slip and bonk his face on the side of the tub. Hysteria ensues and I find myself saying what I say a lot these days "William, LISTEN to mommy when she's talking to you!"
Exhibit B: Mealtime. Now, thanks to some major work by Mike and I, we actually have it pretty easy at mealtime compared to many parents. He sits at the table through the whole meal, doesn't throw fits and isn't allowed to bring toys at the table. HOWEVER, I've discovered that my entire mealtime is full of me saying, "Both hands William." (when he's drinking). "Chew and swallow, William, chew and swallow". "Don't talk with your mouth full". "Both hands, I said." "Silverware is not a toy, you EAT with it, don't play with it." "Chew and swallow." "Smaller bites, William!" "No, the fork is not a light saber." "Both hands William." "No you may not get down, we're eating as a family." "No you can't dip your food in your juice." "Smaller BITES, William, I told you." "Don't play with the spoon, it's not a blaster." "Chew and swallow." "No you are not excused, we're still eating as a family." And so on. I'm telling you, children are the best weight control there is. There is no way to eat too fast and miss fullness signals when you're too busy monitoring a kid who's eating.
Exhibit C: Why? Holy crap, if I hear this question one more time, I'm going to die. Today I pick William up from the sitter and he wants to close his car door himself, but I explain that if he does that, then I can't buckle him into his seat and I have to since he can't do it himself yet.
"Why?" he asks.
"Because the policeman will get mad if you aren't buckled in," I explain.
"Why?"
"Because I have to keep you safe"
"Why?"
"Because it's mommy's job."
"But I want to close my door myself."
"You can't because I have to buckle you in."
"Why?"
"William, stop asking why."
"Why?"
REALLY? IS HE SERIOUS? Needless to say, I just buckled him in and shut the door. At which point a slightly cowed William asks from the backseat "Mommy, you okay?" AAAAGGGHHH!
Exhibit D: Do it again! Motherhood is full of little tricks to make the mundane more interesting... but from time to time, the trick backfires because it's more of a pain in the ass than anything else. For example, William is fully potty-trained, but hates to wash his hands. So one day, after he washes them, I "fly" him off his step stool and swing him around in a circle. BIG ERROR. This produced the "ha ha ha ha ha... do it again" response. Now, I don't mind swinging him every once in a while, but he's 32 pounds of boy and it's not fun to swing that constantly. But he has the memory of an elephant (only when it comes to fun stuff, not to remembering that hitting = time-out) and now every time he washes his hands he asks me to swing him. Crap.
Exhibit F: Wha'd you say? Oh my god, I don't know exactly when William started asking this, but it seems like we hear it ALL DAY EVERY DAY. Now, like I said earlier... when it's useful instruction or discipline, William can't hear me even if I'm shouting in his ear. But Mike and I have discovered that if we try to quietly share a thought about him, make a comment under our breath, mention something while we're in another room... William suddenly has super-ears and responds "Wha'd you say?". The kicker is when you repeat it and he still says, "Wha'd you say". You want to laugh and cry at the same time... especially when this little pattern repeats about 4 times and you finally SHOUT the answer at him. At which point he either says, "don't yell" or "oooooKAY!". Mike and I have discovered that we can no longer talk about people that William knows because he'll invariably follow with "Wha'd you say" and our fear is... the next time he sees them, he'll mention something to the person we were talking about. This has resulted in such stilted conversations as "you know that person we saw the other day, with the kid we don't like? well... it happened again". We feel ridiculous and worst of all, William will still say "Wha'd you say?" In fact, I finally got so frustrated with that question that yesterday I told William, "you cannot ask us that, it's rude. if you cannot hear something we said you are to say, excuse me mommy or daddy, I did not hear you." Now, if you think that's a lot for a kid to remember, you'd be wrong. Tonight at dinner after 3 "Wha'd you says" that we didn't respond to, you could see the light go on and William said, "excuse me mommy... I didn't hear you."
Holy Moly, what next. Bill Cosby... I await your wisdom.
Kids, the above description is currently my life with William. I was just telling a mommy friend of mine, that motherhood is just basically repeating the same thing. Over and over and OVER. This is usually either because a) William isn't listening or b) he keeps asking even though I've answered.
Exhibit A: Mommy is giving William and Elizabeth a bath at the same time. This sucks because Elizabeth is still in the baby tub and William is in the big tub. So I sit right in between the two, alternating scrubbing, playing, drying and dressing so that both kids get clean and stay warm. So as I'm dressing Elizabeth the other night while the water drains from the big tub, I see William attempting to be "a big boy" and climb out by himself. Now life experience has taught me that wet-child+too-short-limbs+climbing-out-of-a-slippery-tub = pain. So I say, "William wait for mommy." Now, he has selective hearing because he can hear me whisper something about his bad behavior to his father from two rooms away (more on this later), but he cannot hear me from less that two feet away. I catch myself saying "William wait for mommy, William WAIT for mommy, WILLIAM WAIT FOR MOMMY!" while he proceeds to slip and bonk his face on the side of the tub. Hysteria ensues and I find myself saying what I say a lot these days "William, LISTEN to mommy when she's talking to you!"
Exhibit B: Mealtime. Now, thanks to some major work by Mike and I, we actually have it pretty easy at mealtime compared to many parents. He sits at the table through the whole meal, doesn't throw fits and isn't allowed to bring toys at the table. HOWEVER, I've discovered that my entire mealtime is full of me saying, "Both hands William." (when he's drinking). "Chew and swallow, William, chew and swallow". "Don't talk with your mouth full". "Both hands, I said." "Silverware is not a toy, you EAT with it, don't play with it." "Chew and swallow." "Smaller bites, William!" "No, the fork is not a light saber." "Both hands William." "No you may not get down, we're eating as a family." "No you can't dip your food in your juice." "Smaller BITES, William, I told you." "Don't play with the spoon, it's not a blaster." "Chew and swallow." "No you are not excused, we're still eating as a family." And so on. I'm telling you, children are the best weight control there is. There is no way to eat too fast and miss fullness signals when you're too busy monitoring a kid who's eating.
Exhibit C: Why? Holy crap, if I hear this question one more time, I'm going to die. Today I pick William up from the sitter and he wants to close his car door himself, but I explain that if he does that, then I can't buckle him into his seat and I have to since he can't do it himself yet.
"Why?" he asks.
"Because the policeman will get mad if you aren't buckled in," I explain.
"Why?"
"Because I have to keep you safe"
"Why?"
"Because it's mommy's job."
"But I want to close my door myself."
"You can't because I have to buckle you in."
"Why?"
"William, stop asking why."
"Why?"
REALLY? IS HE SERIOUS? Needless to say, I just buckled him in and shut the door. At which point a slightly cowed William asks from the backseat "Mommy, you okay?" AAAAGGGHHH!
Exhibit D: Do it again! Motherhood is full of little tricks to make the mundane more interesting... but from time to time, the trick backfires because it's more of a pain in the ass than anything else. For example, William is fully potty-trained, but hates to wash his hands. So one day, after he washes them, I "fly" him off his step stool and swing him around in a circle. BIG ERROR. This produced the "ha ha ha ha ha... do it again" response. Now, I don't mind swinging him every once in a while, but he's 32 pounds of boy and it's not fun to swing that constantly. But he has the memory of an elephant (only when it comes to fun stuff, not to remembering that hitting = time-out) and now every time he washes his hands he asks me to swing him. Crap.
Exhibit F: Wha'd you say? Oh my god, I don't know exactly when William started asking this, but it seems like we hear it ALL DAY EVERY DAY. Now, like I said earlier... when it's useful instruction or discipline, William can't hear me even if I'm shouting in his ear. But Mike and I have discovered that if we try to quietly share a thought about him, make a comment under our breath, mention something while we're in another room... William suddenly has super-ears and responds "Wha'd you say?". The kicker is when you repeat it and he still says, "Wha'd you say". You want to laugh and cry at the same time... especially when this little pattern repeats about 4 times and you finally SHOUT the answer at him. At which point he either says, "don't yell" or "oooooKAY!". Mike and I have discovered that we can no longer talk about people that William knows because he'll invariably follow with "Wha'd you say" and our fear is... the next time he sees them, he'll mention something to the person we were talking about. This has resulted in such stilted conversations as "you know that person we saw the other day, with the kid we don't like? well... it happened again". We feel ridiculous and worst of all, William will still say "Wha'd you say?" In fact, I finally got so frustrated with that question that yesterday I told William, "you cannot ask us that, it's rude. if you cannot hear something we said you are to say, excuse me mommy or daddy, I did not hear you." Now, if you think that's a lot for a kid to remember, you'd be wrong. Tonight at dinner after 3 "Wha'd you says" that we didn't respond to, you could see the light go on and William said, "excuse me mommy... I didn't hear you."
Holy Moly, what next. Bill Cosby... I await your wisdom.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
Uh... can we get a little help here?
So our daughter has arrived at last and Mike and I stupidly thought that the toughest part of the first few weeks would be how the transition went for William. A HA HA HA HA! No, no... God thought it best to send us a little trial to let us know what we'd signed up for. And it was a whopper.
Now, a couple nights after Elizabeth came home, William threw up. But my mom was here to help, it only lasted a couple days and we all got through it with lots of Batman and movies like Bolt, Peter Pan and Cars. Whew! Test passed... right? Wrong.
My mom leaves after two weeks, Mike's mom stays for a week and at last we are on our own to try this experiment of parenting two. And what happens? William gets sick again... but this time, he does it in style.
About 2-3 weeks ago, just as Mike and I are starting to get the jist of how to break up the newborn and toddler work and still get sleep we hear on the monitor from William's room at 10:30 pm the following: cough, cough, splat... WAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!. He's thrown up all over himself and his bed. Mike and I are upstairs like a shot. He throws William in the bathtub and I'm cleaning him up while Mike cleans up the bedroom. As we're getting everything close to cleaned up (and moving William downstairs into the office so we can watch him better), Elizabeth starts to scream, we start a bottle heating (because I'm supposed to be in bed right now for my sleep shift)... William throws up again. Uh oh, this is not looking good. He is now FREAKING OUT, we're washing another set of sheets and jammies, Mike is proceeding to feed Elizabeth and in the immortal words of Han Solo we both think "I've got a bad feeling about this". We put on the last set of clean sheets on the bed in the office, I pump another bottle for Elizabeth's next feeding so I can sleep with William, when William throws up AGAIN. Now, we're freaking out. We're running out of bedding options, out of towels, out of jammies and out of any remnants of sanity. Plus, it's now nearly 1:00 am, neither of us have slept and we're worried about William dehydrating. We call the nurse hotline and they say to just let him empty himself out and he should stop vomiting.
Needless to say, the rest of the night was shit. Pardon the french kids... but there are no other words to describe it. William proceeded to vomit every 45 minutes to an hour (the nurse was wrong... he just kept going, even when nothing was left to come up) and Mike and I were locked into an endless cycle of pump-feed-puke-wash-comfort. 12 hours later William was still vomiting and I headed to the doctor with him. My usually rambunctious son was reduced to a pale, thin, limp little teary mess and I was holding back tears. It hurt me just to look at him. As tired as I was (I literally got NO sleep), I would have done anything to be the sick one. I was told that this was going around and that I had to give William a Phenergen suppository to try to stop the vomiting (and now diarrhea) before he dehydrated enough to necessitate a trip to the hospital. I got him back home and he began running a fever as high as 104. The next few days Mike and I lived, ate and breathed a regimen of little sleep, keeping Elizabeth fed and keeping a very weak William going on Pedialyte, Gatorade and finally, crackers. It was hell. We washed every sheet and towel in the entire house and were so sick of Thomas the f@#!ing Train by the end of the week.
By the time he was well, Mike and I knew that A) we had a great story, B) we HAD signed up to be parents of 2 and that could mean more chaos than we ever thought imaginable and C) we make an AMAZING team.
Test passed...But I'm asking God if he can hold off on the Final Exam until Mike and I get some more sleep. And get the music of Thomas the Train out of our heads.
Now, a couple nights after Elizabeth came home, William threw up. But my mom was here to help, it only lasted a couple days and we all got through it with lots of Batman and movies like Bolt, Peter Pan and Cars. Whew! Test passed... right? Wrong.
My mom leaves after two weeks, Mike's mom stays for a week and at last we are on our own to try this experiment of parenting two. And what happens? William gets sick again... but this time, he does it in style.
About 2-3 weeks ago, just as Mike and I are starting to get the jist of how to break up the newborn and toddler work and still get sleep we hear on the monitor from William's room at 10:30 pm the following: cough, cough, splat... WAAAAAAAAGGGGGHHHH!. He's thrown up all over himself and his bed. Mike and I are upstairs like a shot. He throws William in the bathtub and I'm cleaning him up while Mike cleans up the bedroom. As we're getting everything close to cleaned up (and moving William downstairs into the office so we can watch him better), Elizabeth starts to scream, we start a bottle heating (because I'm supposed to be in bed right now for my sleep shift)... William throws up again. Uh oh, this is not looking good. He is now FREAKING OUT, we're washing another set of sheets and jammies, Mike is proceeding to feed Elizabeth and in the immortal words of Han Solo we both think "I've got a bad feeling about this". We put on the last set of clean sheets on the bed in the office, I pump another bottle for Elizabeth's next feeding so I can sleep with William, when William throws up AGAIN. Now, we're freaking out. We're running out of bedding options, out of towels, out of jammies and out of any remnants of sanity. Plus, it's now nearly 1:00 am, neither of us have slept and we're worried about William dehydrating. We call the nurse hotline and they say to just let him empty himself out and he should stop vomiting.
Needless to say, the rest of the night was shit. Pardon the french kids... but there are no other words to describe it. William proceeded to vomit every 45 minutes to an hour (the nurse was wrong... he just kept going, even when nothing was left to come up) and Mike and I were locked into an endless cycle of pump-feed-puke-wash-comfort. 12 hours later William was still vomiting and I headed to the doctor with him. My usually rambunctious son was reduced to a pale, thin, limp little teary mess and I was holding back tears. It hurt me just to look at him. As tired as I was (I literally got NO sleep), I would have done anything to be the sick one. I was told that this was going around and that I had to give William a Phenergen suppository to try to stop the vomiting (and now diarrhea) before he dehydrated enough to necessitate a trip to the hospital. I got him back home and he began running a fever as high as 104. The next few days Mike and I lived, ate and breathed a regimen of little sleep, keeping Elizabeth fed and keeping a very weak William going on Pedialyte, Gatorade and finally, crackers. It was hell. We washed every sheet and towel in the entire house and were so sick of Thomas the f@#!ing Train by the end of the week.
By the time he was well, Mike and I knew that A) we had a great story, B) we HAD signed up to be parents of 2 and that could mean more chaos than we ever thought imaginable and C) we make an AMAZING team.
Test passed...But I'm asking God if he can hold off on the Final Exam until Mike and I get some more sleep. And get the music of Thomas the Train out of our heads.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Remember: as you do... they will too
So I'm learning a lesson from my son as of late... As a parent you have to watch how you handle EVERYTHING because as you do... they will too. If you yell and scream when you're frustrated, so will they. If you punish yourself for simple mistakes, so will they. And, unfortunately, if you are stressed out, they will be too.
This last one has hit me hard as of late and I'm dealing with a parental emotion I'm sure I will feel many times over... guilt.
You see, I'm nearing the end of a particularly hard pregnancy fraught with bleeding, cramping, early labor worries, bedrest, complications from a different surgery and gestational diabetes. I've felt the stress for sure and have been particularly conscious in the last couple months about the horrible stress it has put on my husband. He's had to take on way more than his share of the usual chores that we split and has had to take on more than his share of William duties as well. What we forgot to factor is is that, in the middle of all this, William has become stressed too. Enter MAJOR GUILT.
It finally dawned on me as I read a Baby Center article on toddler stress (for those of you yet to be parents, REGISTER ON THIS SITE AS SOON AS YOU BECOME PREGNANT! It's full of handy articles and advice). I get an email from Baby Center weekly based on the age of my child (and the stage of my pregnancy) and they are often right on track with where William is. Two weeks ago, I got one emailed about "Toddler acting out more than normal due to stress".
Duh! I can't believe I didn't think of it. Here I am thinking William's "terrible twos-threes stage" has just hit a particularly nasty slide and totally forgot that he's living in this house with a mom who's stressed/frustrated that she can't do very much and a stressed/frustrated dad who's doing SO much. He's put up with schedule changes (sometimes home from daycare once a week, sometimes not), bedtime ritual interruptions (either due to visitors or my lack of ability to get up the stairs to his room), different play patterns as we've adjusted to my level of mobility and diet changes as I haven't been able to cook as much as before. This poor kid. All this interruption and now a new sibling will be added in a week or less!
William's care giver has even noticed it. She often contends (much to my pleasure) that despite his need to defy, test, etc., he is still truly one of the best kids she's ever had. He benefits from the fact that she runs her home the way we run ours and her ideas and ours about behavior, manners and discipline are nearly identical. That makes it easier on the kid, I tell you... so if you're becoming a parent, truly look for a caregive you see eye-to-eye with and your child will benefit from the consistency. Anyway, back to her noticing his stress. She said the other day, for the first time ever, William threw a 1/2-hour fit after nap time about needing me. She was so caught off guard (William is usuallly easily distractable and not prone to fits) that she felt she had to mention it. Man, did I feel terrible. It was on a day that he normally gets to stay home ith me, but I was in too much pain to manage him that day.
So I'm going to try. I'm going to try to balance patience with boundaries. I'm going to try to learn to cool off instead of yelling, so that I can teach him that a time-out is truly something we ALL take to sit down and re-think... not just a punishment. I'm going to try to understand that his efforts to prolong bed-time are sometimes more of a reflection of his feeling that he doesn't get much of mommy anymore and not just another place to be defiant. I'm going to try to understand that it's not worth getting frustrated if he only want cucumbers and milk for dinner (the past two nights), as long as he's eating. I'm going to try to understand that a little outing to Starbucks (now his favorite) can make his day after he's had a particularly bad one. I'm going to try to understand that sometimes his "no!" is an effort to exert some control in his currently out-of-control life rather than his just trying to piss mommy off. I'm going to try to stop applying the label "good boy" and "bad boy" and rather make it about "good choice" or "bad choice".
Does that mean the "teaching" of manners will stop? No. Will I stop offering him "choices" to pick a preferred behavior (e.g. take a time out or listen to mommy)? No. I don't want to break his good habits or let them slide. I'm just going to try to remember not to yell when he makes the "bad choice", but rather calmly let him experience the consequences (time outs, no bed-time story, etc). I'm going to try to point out his "good choices" rather than only noticing the bad (Mike is decidedly better at this than I am). And finally, I'm going to try to remember that he's stressed out and a little bewildered by what's going on in the house right now. That he's too young to totally grasp it and to try to look at it through his eyes.
I want a boy who's assertive enough to stand up for himself while aware enough to show good manners and kindness. I want a boy who can spill milk and calmly clean it up as an "accident" and not fear anger or get angry at himself. I want a boy who can learn to calm down and breath, not go red in the face.
In short, I want what all parents want for their kids. I want to be a perfect parent and for him to know how to make his own success. I know I can't be perfect though... but I can try to be good. And I can try to help him through this stressful time, since I certainly can't change the circumstances that have caused the stress.
This last one has hit me hard as of late and I'm dealing with a parental emotion I'm sure I will feel many times over... guilt.
You see, I'm nearing the end of a particularly hard pregnancy fraught with bleeding, cramping, early labor worries, bedrest, complications from a different surgery and gestational diabetes. I've felt the stress for sure and have been particularly conscious in the last couple months about the horrible stress it has put on my husband. He's had to take on way more than his share of the usual chores that we split and has had to take on more than his share of William duties as well. What we forgot to factor is is that, in the middle of all this, William has become stressed too. Enter MAJOR GUILT.
It finally dawned on me as I read a Baby Center article on toddler stress (for those of you yet to be parents, REGISTER ON THIS SITE AS SOON AS YOU BECOME PREGNANT! It's full of handy articles and advice). I get an email from Baby Center weekly based on the age of my child (and the stage of my pregnancy) and they are often right on track with where William is. Two weeks ago, I got one emailed about "Toddler acting out more than normal due to stress".
Duh! I can't believe I didn't think of it. Here I am thinking William's "terrible twos-threes stage" has just hit a particularly nasty slide and totally forgot that he's living in this house with a mom who's stressed/frustrated that she can't do very much and a stressed/frustrated dad who's doing SO much. He's put up with schedule changes (sometimes home from daycare once a week, sometimes not), bedtime ritual interruptions (either due to visitors or my lack of ability to get up the stairs to his room), different play patterns as we've adjusted to my level of mobility and diet changes as I haven't been able to cook as much as before. This poor kid. All this interruption and now a new sibling will be added in a week or less!
William's care giver has even noticed it. She often contends (much to my pleasure) that despite his need to defy, test, etc., he is still truly one of the best kids she's ever had. He benefits from the fact that she runs her home the way we run ours and her ideas and ours about behavior, manners and discipline are nearly identical. That makes it easier on the kid, I tell you... so if you're becoming a parent, truly look for a caregive you see eye-to-eye with and your child will benefit from the consistency. Anyway, back to her noticing his stress. She said the other day, for the first time ever, William threw a 1/2-hour fit after nap time about needing me. She was so caught off guard (William is usuallly easily distractable and not prone to fits) that she felt she had to mention it. Man, did I feel terrible. It was on a day that he normally gets to stay home ith me, but I was in too much pain to manage him that day.
So I'm going to try. I'm going to try to balance patience with boundaries. I'm going to try to learn to cool off instead of yelling, so that I can teach him that a time-out is truly something we ALL take to sit down and re-think... not just a punishment. I'm going to try to understand that his efforts to prolong bed-time are sometimes more of a reflection of his feeling that he doesn't get much of mommy anymore and not just another place to be defiant. I'm going to try to understand that it's not worth getting frustrated if he only want cucumbers and milk for dinner (the past two nights), as long as he's eating. I'm going to try to understand that a little outing to Starbucks (now his favorite) can make his day after he's had a particularly bad one. I'm going to try to understand that sometimes his "no!" is an effort to exert some control in his currently out-of-control life rather than his just trying to piss mommy off. I'm going to try to stop applying the label "good boy" and "bad boy" and rather make it about "good choice" or "bad choice".
Does that mean the "teaching" of manners will stop? No. Will I stop offering him "choices" to pick a preferred behavior (e.g. take a time out or listen to mommy)? No. I don't want to break his good habits or let them slide. I'm just going to try to remember not to yell when he makes the "bad choice", but rather calmly let him experience the consequences (time outs, no bed-time story, etc). I'm going to try to point out his "good choices" rather than only noticing the bad (Mike is decidedly better at this than I am). And finally, I'm going to try to remember that he's stressed out and a little bewildered by what's going on in the house right now. That he's too young to totally grasp it and to try to look at it through his eyes.
I want a boy who's assertive enough to stand up for himself while aware enough to show good manners and kindness. I want a boy who can spill milk and calmly clean it up as an "accident" and not fear anger or get angry at himself. I want a boy who can learn to calm down and breath, not go red in the face.
In short, I want what all parents want for their kids. I want to be a perfect parent and for him to know how to make his own success. I know I can't be perfect though... but I can try to be good. And I can try to help him through this stressful time, since I certainly can't change the circumstances that have caused the stress.
Monday, March 02, 2009
Heard From The Throne
So my son being potty trained has brought on a whole new joy in life... words heard from the throne. My son is rather chatty, you see, and lately has taken to taking his time on the potty and so Mike and I often tell him to just call us when he's done. Well, while we're waiting for him... we often hear some lovely gems from his perch on the potty. Here are some of our favorites:
"Ummm (sigh) no... I'm just calming down" - his response after I asked him if he was done after a particularly long silence on the pot.
"Can I have a book?" - I died. My son is already taking to potty reading, and he can't read!
"ABCD..." - he decided to sing his ABC's one day on the potty when it was taking a long time to go #2.
"My penis is still peeing"
"You can't come in yet"
"Can you read me a story in here?"
"No mommy, you can't come in... I asked Oom Kyle" - when I attempted to check on him in the potty and his uncle (Oom Kyle) was over.
"The poop's not coming out... I need belly stuff!" - he loves to ask for "belly stuff" which is either children tums or his gummy vitamins or Children's Tylenol.
"I didn't POOP, I just tooted!" -Yelled at me after telling me he was ready for me to come in.
Here, however, is our absolute favorite... which was more of a tirade than a statement. Last night William was having an upset tummy night and made 4, count 'em 4, trips to the potty at bed-time and Mike and I were lying on his bed waiting for him to finish. Mike called "are you done yet!?" from his bedroom and this is what followed:
"Quiet Daddy! I'm not talking to you... I'm talking to mommy!"
(Mike interrupts with, 'well mommy's lying down so I'm getting you')
"Shhhh! Daddy, I'm talking to MOMMY! You can't talk to me and you can't come in. I'm not done yet and I'm talking to mommy and I'm not talking to you.
(Mike interrupts with 'don't you talk to me that way' and then whispers to me trying not to laugh... 'our son just shhhh'd me!')
"Quiet Daddy! I'm not talking to you. I'm not talking to you and I'm talking to mommy and mommy's coming in and you be quiet because I'm talking to mom..."
(Mike and I are now howling with laughter... William can be heard laughing too and continues) "So you can't come in and I'm not done and I'm just sitting here. I'm talking to mommy and I'm not ready and I'm just sitting here".
(I try to calm down and ask, totally choking and laughing... 'are you done yet? can mommy come in?') He replies (singing the last word in a high pitched voice)
"nooooo... I'm still working on my POOOOOPS!".
At this point, Mike and I are laughing so hard we're CRYING, and imitating him singing the word POOOOOPS. We cannot believe this is our kid. I finally manage to calm down enough to ask him if I can come in yet and he says "yes", but when I go in he's STILL not done. So I go and lie down on the couch in the playroom (You can see into the bathroom from there) and wait for him to finish. At last he lets me clean him up and put on his jammies and he looks at me innocently like it's not bedtime and we haven't spent the last 1/2 hour waiting for him to finish so we can continue our bedtime ritual and asks:
"Wanna play?"
Holy crap, who is this child?
"Ummm (sigh) no... I'm just calming down" - his response after I asked him if he was done after a particularly long silence on the pot.
"Can I have a book?" - I died. My son is already taking to potty reading, and he can't read!
"ABCD..." - he decided to sing his ABC's one day on the potty when it was taking a long time to go #2.
"My penis is still peeing"
"You can't come in yet"
"Can you read me a story in here?"
"No mommy, you can't come in... I asked Oom Kyle" - when I attempted to check on him in the potty and his uncle (Oom Kyle) was over.
"The poop's not coming out... I need belly stuff!" - he loves to ask for "belly stuff" which is either children tums or his gummy vitamins or Children's Tylenol.
"I didn't POOP, I just tooted!" -Yelled at me after telling me he was ready for me to come in.
Here, however, is our absolute favorite... which was more of a tirade than a statement. Last night William was having an upset tummy night and made 4, count 'em 4, trips to the potty at bed-time and Mike and I were lying on his bed waiting for him to finish. Mike called "are you done yet!?" from his bedroom and this is what followed:
"Quiet Daddy! I'm not talking to you... I'm talking to mommy!"
(Mike interrupts with, 'well mommy's lying down so I'm getting you')
"Shhhh! Daddy, I'm talking to MOMMY! You can't talk to me and you can't come in. I'm not done yet and I'm talking to mommy and I'm not talking to you.
(Mike interrupts with 'don't you talk to me that way' and then whispers to me trying not to laugh... 'our son just shhhh'd me!')
"Quiet Daddy! I'm not talking to you. I'm not talking to you and I'm talking to mommy and mommy's coming in and you be quiet because I'm talking to mom..."
(Mike and I are now howling with laughter... William can be heard laughing too and continues) "So you can't come in and I'm not done and I'm just sitting here. I'm talking to mommy and I'm not ready and I'm just sitting here".
(I try to calm down and ask, totally choking and laughing... 'are you done yet? can mommy come in?') He replies (singing the last word in a high pitched voice)
"nooooo... I'm still working on my POOOOOPS!".
At this point, Mike and I are laughing so hard we're CRYING, and imitating him singing the word POOOOOPS. We cannot believe this is our kid. I finally manage to calm down enough to ask him if I can come in yet and he says "yes", but when I go in he's STILL not done. So I go and lie down on the couch in the playroom (You can see into the bathroom from there) and wait for him to finish. At last he lets me clean him up and put on his jammies and he looks at me innocently like it's not bedtime and we haven't spent the last 1/2 hour waiting for him to finish so we can continue our bedtime ritual and asks:
"Wanna play?"
Holy crap, who is this child?
Monday, February 23, 2009
Mommy.... you feel better? And other sweet phrases
These past two weeks have been an interesting time as together as a family we've weathered an ear infection for William, my simultaneous sinus infection, a trip to the hospital with possible labor pains, and a very tired, crampy, grumpy me. But in that time, I've had the opportunity to witness some fun, new and CARING phrases from my son. The kind that make you think you might not totally be screwing up this parent thing after all.
Now before you get all congratulatory, let me assure you I still possess your average, if not sassier-than-average (much to my mother's joy) 2 1/2 year old. He has been known to recently utter such winners as:
"get out Daddy, this is my room, NOT your room!"
"No, this is my house!" (response to Mike's response to above phrase, which was, well this may be YOUR room, but it's MY house)
"Mommy, you are NOT my buddy anymore!"
However, he has at least rewarded us with some sweet, caring phrases as well.
Lately, the most popular one has been, "Mommy... you feel better?" Granted, sometimes this is asked because if I say yes he can ask his follow up, "you wanna pick me up?" This is because I've told him that the doctor says I cannot pick him up yet. However, many times this past couple weeks... it has been out of genuine concern. As we suffered together through our sinus/ear infection he often asked me that. After a particularly bad night of cramping, he planted a kiss on my head "to make it all better" and followed up with "mommy... you feel better now?" After a bad morning where I took a LONG nap after breakfast, he wandered in to wake me, gave me a kiss and asked "mommy... you feel better?" Man, break my heart, kid.
Another cute phrase lately? "You okay?" I heard this the other night as he and his daddy wrestled. Daddy did one of his better acting jobs and fell to the ground and remained laying there. At which point, William walks up and pats his daddy asking, "You okay?" Mike and I died. He also asked it of the dog recently when he accidentally stepped on her tail and of me recently after I kind of yelped during a doctor's appointment. (He also inquired of the doctor, "Did you hurt my mommy?"... the doc thought it was hysterical).
One of the best phrases we are enjoying now... particularly because he'll ask it of anyone, even complete strangers, is "How's your day?". I witnessed this the first time when I had to bring him with me during my doctor's appointment to assess my sinus infection. The doc walked in and said hello to us both at which point William answers with, "Hi! How's your day?" The doc, completely amused looks at me and says "did he just ask..." and I nodded. William asks again, head cocked to the side, all attention and waiting as though truly interested. The doc says, "uh great, how's yours?" to which William replies, "Oh, I'm just cool." Holy crap... who is this kid?
A week or so later, he comes with me on my OB visit and we tell him to say "hi Dr. B" and explain to him that Dr. B's face is the first he ever saw. William looks up at him and after saying, "Hi Dr. B!" follows with, "How's your day?" Dr B. finds this very funny and spits out a "great! how's yours?" William seems to consider it a moment before replying "oh, good, good. I'm just playing with a school bus" (the toy he had in his hand).
Now Mike and I are noticing that he loves to ask this question of anyone who comes to the house. His aunts and uncles, our friends, the Starbucks employees, etc. He's just running around asking everyone how their day is. People think he's infinitely polite and Mike and I are just enjoying the looks that phrase generates when it comes from such a little person.
The last caring phrase he's been uttering recently, "let's be friends" or "you wanna be my friend?" Apparently, this is the phrase that follows all apologies and time-outs at day-care or something. Because he often utters it after a time out. He'll come to us, give us a hug, say sorry and then say "okay... let's be friends now". Also, I was watching him play with his Star Wars action figures and after Boba Fett gave a Storm Trooper a spectacularly violent beat-down, William must have decided it was enough. Because then I hear him say, as though he were Boba Fett, "come on Trooper, let's be friends. wanna play with me?" and he has his Storm Trooper answer, "yeah, yeah. it's cool. let's be friends." And finally, last night, as I was lying there in his bed after reading his bedtime story, in too much pain to move... he rolls over and puts his little hand on my face and says, "mommy you want to be my friend?" and when I say yes, he follows with "you okay, you want to just lie down a little while with me?" I tell him that mommy is hurting and I would love to just keep lying down with him. He looks at me for a little bit, pulls my blanket up closer to my face for me and says, "okay, you can sleep with me if you want."
Oh man, does it get any sweeter than that?
Now before you get all congratulatory, let me assure you I still possess your average, if not sassier-than-average (much to my mother's joy) 2 1/2 year old. He has been known to recently utter such winners as:
"get out Daddy, this is my room, NOT your room!"
"No, this is my house!" (response to Mike's response to above phrase, which was, well this may be YOUR room, but it's MY house)
"Mommy, you are NOT my buddy anymore!"
However, he has at least rewarded us with some sweet, caring phrases as well.
Lately, the most popular one has been, "Mommy... you feel better?" Granted, sometimes this is asked because if I say yes he can ask his follow up, "you wanna pick me up?" This is because I've told him that the doctor says I cannot pick him up yet. However, many times this past couple weeks... it has been out of genuine concern. As we suffered together through our sinus/ear infection he often asked me that. After a particularly bad night of cramping, he planted a kiss on my head "to make it all better" and followed up with "mommy... you feel better now?" After a bad morning where I took a LONG nap after breakfast, he wandered in to wake me, gave me a kiss and asked "mommy... you feel better?" Man, break my heart, kid.
Another cute phrase lately? "You okay?" I heard this the other night as he and his daddy wrestled. Daddy did one of his better acting jobs and fell to the ground and remained laying there. At which point, William walks up and pats his daddy asking, "You okay?" Mike and I died. He also asked it of the dog recently when he accidentally stepped on her tail and of me recently after I kind of yelped during a doctor's appointment. (He also inquired of the doctor, "Did you hurt my mommy?"... the doc thought it was hysterical).
One of the best phrases we are enjoying now... particularly because he'll ask it of anyone, even complete strangers, is "How's your day?". I witnessed this the first time when I had to bring him with me during my doctor's appointment to assess my sinus infection. The doc walked in and said hello to us both at which point William answers with, "Hi! How's your day?" The doc, completely amused looks at me and says "did he just ask..." and I nodded. William asks again, head cocked to the side, all attention and waiting as though truly interested. The doc says, "uh great, how's yours?" to which William replies, "Oh, I'm just cool." Holy crap... who is this kid?
A week or so later, he comes with me on my OB visit and we tell him to say "hi Dr. B" and explain to him that Dr. B's face is the first he ever saw. William looks up at him and after saying, "Hi Dr. B!" follows with, "How's your day?" Dr B. finds this very funny and spits out a "great! how's yours?" William seems to consider it a moment before replying "oh, good, good. I'm just playing with a school bus" (the toy he had in his hand).
Now Mike and I are noticing that he loves to ask this question of anyone who comes to the house. His aunts and uncles, our friends, the Starbucks employees, etc. He's just running around asking everyone how their day is. People think he's infinitely polite and Mike and I are just enjoying the looks that phrase generates when it comes from such a little person.
The last caring phrase he's been uttering recently, "let's be friends" or "you wanna be my friend?" Apparently, this is the phrase that follows all apologies and time-outs at day-care or something. Because he often utters it after a time out. He'll come to us, give us a hug, say sorry and then say "okay... let's be friends now". Also, I was watching him play with his Star Wars action figures and after Boba Fett gave a Storm Trooper a spectacularly violent beat-down, William must have decided it was enough. Because then I hear him say, as though he were Boba Fett, "come on Trooper, let's be friends. wanna play with me?" and he has his Storm Trooper answer, "yeah, yeah. it's cool. let's be friends." And finally, last night, as I was lying there in his bed after reading his bedtime story, in too much pain to move... he rolls over and puts his little hand on my face and says, "mommy you want to be my friend?" and when I say yes, he follows with "you okay, you want to just lie down a little while with me?" I tell him that mommy is hurting and I would love to just keep lying down with him. He looks at me for a little bit, pulls my blanket up closer to my face for me and says, "okay, you can sleep with me if you want."
Oh man, does it get any sweeter than that?
Monday, February 09, 2009
He's Potty Trained!...Snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.
Yes kids, my son is potty trained. Let me write that again, I'm so excited. My son is potty trained. Hell, one more time... my son is potty trained.
How did this happen, you ask? Just a couple posts ago I was bemoaning our potty woes and here I am enjoying the victory that we recently snatched from the jaws of defeat. Let me tell you folks, TRAINING PANTS. Yes kids, these are the secret. Don't mess around with those freakin' Pull Ups with their cute commercials and that annoying "I'm a big kid now" song. No... they are too much like diapers. I am talking good, old fashioned, extra padded, cotton training pants. With these cheap little wonders (you can order them in packs of 5 off of Amazon), we had our little potty monster converted into a potty angel in 2 weeks. TWO WEEKS!
Now, before you pat myself or Mike on the back, let me be honest about the fact that our beloved day care provider, Debbey, gets much of the credit. You see, she has 25 years of experience and kids, if you have someone like that at your disposal, LISTEN to what they say.
Not long after my desperate potty post, Deb sat us down for her "potty" talk for inexperienced parents. Keep in mind this wizard of childcare had pre-empted this MONTHS ago by giving us "The Potty Book" to read to William daily. Plus, apparently, we were accidental geniuses by buying the potty so early because she said that played a huge part in ridding him of any potty fears. So anyway, "The Potty Talk". She sat us down and told us to buy 9-10 pairs of training pants (I bought 15 because I'm always over-prepared). She said they had to be just plain cotton, somewhat large (so he could pull them up & down himself) and they would be extra padded in the crotch area. No pull-ups, nothing resembling a diaper or anything disposable. Then she said put them on him in the morning and don't put any pants on him so that he wouldn't have to mess with pants in a hurry. Upon giving him any liquid or solid, we were to try putting him on the toilet about 15 minutes later to let him "try". If he didn't go, we would need to try again in another 5-10 minutes. We were also to pat the front of them during the longer periods between potties and meals and say, "yay! you're dry!", not freak out about any accidents (merely note the time and put him on earlier) and praise every successful potty attempt.
Two weeks ago we started. We dropped him at Deb's in the morning wearing his new "undies" (took his pants off) and gave her 6 clean pairs for him to go through that day. When we picked him up he'd had 4 accidents at Deb's and 3 successful potties. That night at home with us, we had 1 more accident and one more successful potty. Day 2 there were only 3 accidents, Day 4 there were only 2 and after that, just one a day. By day 7, there were zero accidents. The whole second week of the training was at home because he was sick and couldn't go to Deb's. The second week not only did he have zero accidents, but we graduated to not having to ask him or place him on the potty. He merely told us when he was ready and pooped and peed with glee. He even had completely dry diapers each morning when he woke (Deb said do the nighttime last).
So tonight begins the end of it... he's wearing undies in bed to see how he manages tonight. Since his diaper has been dry each morning for a week, I'm feeling rather confident. And proud. Boy am I proud. Deb said it would fly once we bought the training pants and I doubted. I shall never doubt again. Now I have a potty trained boy before my daughter has arrived (Deb's personal goal for us). Mike and I are in shock. We sat there looking at each other two nights ago as we realized he had total control over his potty behavior and laughed. We kept asking each other "is this it? really? he's done!?"
So yes, boys and girls. Potty training happens. Potty training can be good. Now we're just bracing ourselves for the highly possible "regression" that can happen when the next one is born or the "defiant" phase Deb warned about where they decide that they CAN control it, they just don't want to.
Either way... for now, let us enjoy our victory. :)
How did this happen, you ask? Just a couple posts ago I was bemoaning our potty woes and here I am enjoying the victory that we recently snatched from the jaws of defeat. Let me tell you folks, TRAINING PANTS. Yes kids, these are the secret. Don't mess around with those freakin' Pull Ups with their cute commercials and that annoying "I'm a big kid now" song. No... they are too much like diapers. I am talking good, old fashioned, extra padded, cotton training pants. With these cheap little wonders (you can order them in packs of 5 off of Amazon), we had our little potty monster converted into a potty angel in 2 weeks. TWO WEEKS!
Now, before you pat myself or Mike on the back, let me be honest about the fact that our beloved day care provider, Debbey, gets much of the credit. You see, she has 25 years of experience and kids, if you have someone like that at your disposal, LISTEN to what they say.
Not long after my desperate potty post, Deb sat us down for her "potty" talk for inexperienced parents. Keep in mind this wizard of childcare had pre-empted this MONTHS ago by giving us "The Potty Book" to read to William daily. Plus, apparently, we were accidental geniuses by buying the potty so early because she said that played a huge part in ridding him of any potty fears. So anyway, "The Potty Talk". She sat us down and told us to buy 9-10 pairs of training pants (I bought 15 because I'm always over-prepared). She said they had to be just plain cotton, somewhat large (so he could pull them up & down himself) and they would be extra padded in the crotch area. No pull-ups, nothing resembling a diaper or anything disposable. Then she said put them on him in the morning and don't put any pants on him so that he wouldn't have to mess with pants in a hurry. Upon giving him any liquid or solid, we were to try putting him on the toilet about 15 minutes later to let him "try". If he didn't go, we would need to try again in another 5-10 minutes. We were also to pat the front of them during the longer periods between potties and meals and say, "yay! you're dry!", not freak out about any accidents (merely note the time and put him on earlier) and praise every successful potty attempt.
Two weeks ago we started. We dropped him at Deb's in the morning wearing his new "undies" (took his pants off) and gave her 6 clean pairs for him to go through that day. When we picked him up he'd had 4 accidents at Deb's and 3 successful potties. That night at home with us, we had 1 more accident and one more successful potty. Day 2 there were only 3 accidents, Day 4 there were only 2 and after that, just one a day. By day 7, there were zero accidents. The whole second week of the training was at home because he was sick and couldn't go to Deb's. The second week not only did he have zero accidents, but we graduated to not having to ask him or place him on the potty. He merely told us when he was ready and pooped and peed with glee. He even had completely dry diapers each morning when he woke (Deb said do the nighttime last).
So tonight begins the end of it... he's wearing undies in bed to see how he manages tonight. Since his diaper has been dry each morning for a week, I'm feeling rather confident. And proud. Boy am I proud. Deb said it would fly once we bought the training pants and I doubted. I shall never doubt again. Now I have a potty trained boy before my daughter has arrived (Deb's personal goal for us). Mike and I are in shock. We sat there looking at each other two nights ago as we realized he had total control over his potty behavior and laughed. We kept asking each other "is this it? really? he's done!?"
So yes, boys and girls. Potty training happens. Potty training can be good. Now we're just bracing ourselves for the highly possible "regression" that can happen when the next one is born or the "defiant" phase Deb warned about where they decide that they CAN control it, they just don't want to.
Either way... for now, let us enjoy our victory. :)
Monday, January 26, 2009
Everything I learned, I learned from my 2 1/2 year old
Having a child can make give you a new outlook on life. These past 2 1/2 years I've realized that having a young child makes you appreciate what you now take for granted... like how many ladybugs you can see if you just walk around the block, how exciting a fire engine can be, how victorious one can feel when you're tall enough to use a light switch, and how interesting one's first taste of a cheese other than cheddar can be. To date, here are some of my favorite, most valuable and most humorous lessons:
1. In the case of Time Outs, 'tis better to give than to receive (yes, I've been given a time out).
2. You can say a million things while watching a sporting event and the ones your child will grab on to and repeat will be things like "Jesus Christ!" and "Holy Crap" (note to self: stop swearing or watching sports).
3. You are never too full for chocolate milk and whipped cream.
4. Just when you think your child won't pee or poop on you, they will... and laugh about it.
5. Feeding a dog is infinitely more fun than eating the food yourself.
6. Any movie a 2 1/2 year old wants to see is "really cool"
7. A park is not a necessary destination for a walk if there are bulldozers to climb on the way!
8. Potties are exciting until you HAVE to learn to use them.
9. Anything tastes better when eaten off of Mommy's plate or drunk from Mommy's cup.
10. A favorite food one day can turn to a hated item the very next day.
11. Sharing is not a necessity in life.
12. Why wear clothes when a perfectly good Batman costume is available?
13. When your child is in said Batman costume, it is not wise to address him by his given name unless you would like to be corrected (as in, " No mom! I'm Batman!")
14. It is better to supervise than to perform (e.g. when I asked William to clean up his Legos he replied, "no, I'll watch you do it.")
15. No toys at the table is an important rule, if you want your child to eat. However, putting a toy out of reach and assuring your child the toy will "watch" him eat can suddenly improve his appetite immensely.
16. "Fine I'm leaving without you," is a very motivational phrase... and one your child will turn around and use right back on you as soon as they've mastered it.
17. The best way to teach your child a rule is to let them administer the rule themselves: case in point, we use the phrase "no we're eating as a family" whenever William asks to be excused mid-dinner, but he loves for us to ask to be excused so he can repeat the rule back to us.
18. Crying is temporary... if you can live through it, you can teach a young child to sit through an entire dinner, sleep by his/herself, play quietly in a restaurant, use good manners and follow household rules.
19. Children are VERY honest... they have no qualms about rating your cooking loudly and immediately. Unfortunately, they will also do the same to other's cooking as well, so make sure friends and family are not easily insulted!
20. There is no such thing as reading one book too many times, viewing one movie too many times or doing something funny too many times. Be prepared to know the phrase "again."
21. Children can spot the TINIEST spec of something they don't like in their food (e.g. finely dicing a red bell pepper and combining it with chicken, cheese and salsa in a quesadilla is fruitless as the child WILL spot the bell pepper).
22. "But you're my buddy" is a phrase that should stop all unwanted tickling, wrestling and discipline, or so my son thinks!
23. Don't get too excited when your infant starts sleeping through the night... that ability will wax and wane over the next few years due to growth spurts, teeth, new fears, illness, etc.
24. Friends are great until they want to play with your toys.
25. It's funny to splash or squirt mommy with a bath toy while taking a bath, especially if she wears glasses.
26. You cannot make a child into a morning or night person... they will make that determination on their own.
27. The best way to teach a child good manners is to model them yourself.
28. At least once, you will laugh at inappropriate behavior despite your best efforts not to.
29. Keep a baby monitor in a kids room long after infancy... you will hear some great things as they fall asleep or wake up. (e.g. heard blaring from our monitor as he woke from a nap, "HEELLOOOOOO! Will somebody come get me!")
30. Just when you think you can't love your child any more than you already do, your heart will grow.
1. In the case of Time Outs, 'tis better to give than to receive (yes, I've been given a time out).
2. You can say a million things while watching a sporting event and the ones your child will grab on to and repeat will be things like "Jesus Christ!" and "Holy Crap" (note to self: stop swearing or watching sports).
3. You are never too full for chocolate milk and whipped cream.
4. Just when you think your child won't pee or poop on you, they will... and laugh about it.
5. Feeding a dog is infinitely more fun than eating the food yourself.
6. Any movie a 2 1/2 year old wants to see is "really cool"
7. A park is not a necessary destination for a walk if there are bulldozers to climb on the way!
8. Potties are exciting until you HAVE to learn to use them.
9. Anything tastes better when eaten off of Mommy's plate or drunk from Mommy's cup.
10. A favorite food one day can turn to a hated item the very next day.
11. Sharing is not a necessity in life.
12. Why wear clothes when a perfectly good Batman costume is available?
13. When your child is in said Batman costume, it is not wise to address him by his given name unless you would like to be corrected (as in, " No mom! I'm Batman!")
14. It is better to supervise than to perform (e.g. when I asked William to clean up his Legos he replied, "no, I'll watch you do it.")
15. No toys at the table is an important rule, if you want your child to eat. However, putting a toy out of reach and assuring your child the toy will "watch" him eat can suddenly improve his appetite immensely.
16. "Fine I'm leaving without you," is a very motivational phrase... and one your child will turn around and use right back on you as soon as they've mastered it.
17. The best way to teach your child a rule is to let them administer the rule themselves: case in point, we use the phrase "no we're eating as a family" whenever William asks to be excused mid-dinner, but he loves for us to ask to be excused so he can repeat the rule back to us.
18. Crying is temporary... if you can live through it, you can teach a young child to sit through an entire dinner, sleep by his/herself, play quietly in a restaurant, use good manners and follow household rules.
19. Children are VERY honest... they have no qualms about rating your cooking loudly and immediately. Unfortunately, they will also do the same to other's cooking as well, so make sure friends and family are not easily insulted!
20. There is no such thing as reading one book too many times, viewing one movie too many times or doing something funny too many times. Be prepared to know the phrase "again."
21. Children can spot the TINIEST spec of something they don't like in their food (e.g. finely dicing a red bell pepper and combining it with chicken, cheese and salsa in a quesadilla is fruitless as the child WILL spot the bell pepper).
22. "But you're my buddy" is a phrase that should stop all unwanted tickling, wrestling and discipline, or so my son thinks!
23. Don't get too excited when your infant starts sleeping through the night... that ability will wax and wane over the next few years due to growth spurts, teeth, new fears, illness, etc.
24. Friends are great until they want to play with your toys.
25. It's funny to splash or squirt mommy with a bath toy while taking a bath, especially if she wears glasses.
26. You cannot make a child into a morning or night person... they will make that determination on their own.
27. The best way to teach a child good manners is to model them yourself.
28. At least once, you will laugh at inappropriate behavior despite your best efforts not to.
29. Keep a baby monitor in a kids room long after infancy... you will hear some great things as they fall asleep or wake up. (e.g. heard blaring from our monitor as he woke from a nap, "HEELLOOOOOO! Will somebody come get me!")
30. Just when you think you can't love your child any more than you already do, your heart will grow.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Of Potty Training (God help us all)
So we've started the potty training adventure and I gotta say (in the immortal words of many a Star Wars character)... I've got a bad feeling about this.
For those of you who don't know, William has had poop issues from day one (sorry to be blunt, but as a parent you get used to talking bodily functions). So now we get to add that to his unwillingness to use the potty. Every once in a GREAT while, he's cool about using it. And apparently, my son is a sucker for peer pressure, because he offers no such protest at day care. Agh! I hear from Deb (his sitter) about how he calmly walks into the bathroom and does his thing and I feel like the most inadequate mother ever. I think he has calmly accepted the potty, like 3 times at home max. Otherwise, from the screaming and protesting that ensues, one would think that Mike and I have installed a medieval torture device in our bathroom.
When we first bought the potty, many moons ago just to get him used to it, he liked it. He would sit on it and celebrate the fact that it plays music each time he manages to make a deposit into the bowl. I should have tried training him then, because now, it's a nightmare. I swear the child would prefer a time-out to the damned toilet. The fact that we're doing this while I'm at the end of my pregnancy, in mucho pain and on bedrest, is not helping. But it would be torture either way.
The thing is, once he does the deed, he's thrilled. The toilet plays its little royal trumpet music (it's shaped like a throne, get it? someone had a sense of humor!), he gets to flush it all down the big toilet, wash his hands in the big sink and announce loudly that he's peed or pooped. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to remember the thrill of victory the next time he tries. Again, he's already had major poop issues and gets TERRIFIED about going, so whenever we mention the toilet he assumes it's about poop and the wailing begins.
The sitter, Deb, keeps assuring us this will go quickly because he holds it so well, is great about it at her place and is old enough to want to please. Apparently she gets good William while we get Satan, so I will just pray she is right. Is this one of those things where kids are just awesome with the sitter and terrible s@#!s to their parents? Hmmm... I don't know, but I'm telling ya... I've got a bad feeling about this.
For those of you who don't know, William has had poop issues from day one (sorry to be blunt, but as a parent you get used to talking bodily functions). So now we get to add that to his unwillingness to use the potty. Every once in a GREAT while, he's cool about using it. And apparently, my son is a sucker for peer pressure, because he offers no such protest at day care. Agh! I hear from Deb (his sitter) about how he calmly walks into the bathroom and does his thing and I feel like the most inadequate mother ever. I think he has calmly accepted the potty, like 3 times at home max. Otherwise, from the screaming and protesting that ensues, one would think that Mike and I have installed a medieval torture device in our bathroom.
When we first bought the potty, many moons ago just to get him used to it, he liked it. He would sit on it and celebrate the fact that it plays music each time he manages to make a deposit into the bowl. I should have tried training him then, because now, it's a nightmare. I swear the child would prefer a time-out to the damned toilet. The fact that we're doing this while I'm at the end of my pregnancy, in mucho pain and on bedrest, is not helping. But it would be torture either way.
The thing is, once he does the deed, he's thrilled. The toilet plays its little royal trumpet music (it's shaped like a throne, get it? someone had a sense of humor!), he gets to flush it all down the big toilet, wash his hands in the big sink and announce loudly that he's peed or pooped. Unfortunately, he doesn't seem to remember the thrill of victory the next time he tries. Again, he's already had major poop issues and gets TERRIFIED about going, so whenever we mention the toilet he assumes it's about poop and the wailing begins.
The sitter, Deb, keeps assuring us this will go quickly because he holds it so well, is great about it at her place and is old enough to want to please. Apparently she gets good William while we get Satan, so I will just pray she is right. Is this one of those things where kids are just awesome with the sitter and terrible s@#!s to their parents? Hmmm... I don't know, but I'm telling ya... I've got a bad feeling about this.
Thursday, January 08, 2009
When Sleep Isn't Sleep
Those of you who are parents know that sometimes you sleep with your kid because they want to, other times because YOU do. You see, William sleeps by himself quite well... has since he was 7 weeks old. So we've never had the major struggles or worries about letting him sleep with one of us (or having us sleep with him) every once in a great while.
The thing any parent can tell you is that when you sleep with your child... you don't sleep. There are a number of reasons:
1) They're sick. Especially when they are infants and you're as paranoid a mom as I am... you won't sleep. You'll spend the night repositioning them so they can breath, not vomit, not cough, etc. You'll spend the night feeling their forehead, adding or removing blankets and/or clothing, wiping noses with tissue, heads with washcloths or (in the worst-case scenario) having to strip and re-make the bed. But you'll do it with little/no anger, just a resigned sense of love and duty as you suddenly remember your parents did this for you and you suddenly realize there is no way to thank them for all their sacrifices and sleepless nights.
2) They're "movers". William is a mover (as i believe his sister will be if her in-utero actions are any indication). This is karma kids. I was a mover, you see. Mom and sis both did not want to share a bed with me for fear of looking like they came out of the wrong side of a heavy-weight title match in the morning. I kicked, flailed, rolled, punched, smacked and wriggled. I can remember waking up as a child with my head at the foot of my bed and my feet on my pillows by morning. Well... William is the same. Sometimes I'm so tired, it pisses me off... but mostly I laugh. I laugh because I now know what I did to my mom. I remember the first time I slept with William when he was too old to be held while we slept and he rolled over and socked me right in the eye. I laughed so hard I nearly woke him up. I had to call mom the next morning and tell her that karma had struck back in her honor. I've also woken up with his feet in my face, his butt in my back, his palm slapping my forehead, his finger in my nose... you get the picture.
3) This best reason for no sleep... because you can't stop watching them. Last night as a "treat" William and I slept in the bed in the office because for some strange reason, he LOVES to sleep in the office. That and due to some pre-term labor issues, I'm limiting trips upstairs. So after he falls asleep, I get up to do some emailing and eating and when I return to bed, I find I can't sleep. I'm just staring at this little wonder who is hugging my body pillow like he's the pregnant one and marvelling that he came from me. In his sleep he grabs my hand and holds it and I'm just gone. I'm so in love with motherhood I can't take it. I must have watched him for over an hour before falling asleep. In that hour he moves all over the place, checks for me, snores and stops, pulls a blanket onto himself and then onto me, shoves the blanket off both of us and then finally rolls far onto the other pillow. I watch it all just amazed at this life and wishing it would all slow down.
He's already 2 1/2 with a sister on the way and it feels like he was just born sometimes. I call him a baby and realize he isn't. It's so wild and wonderful and crazy and beautiful. Now I know my my mom says she wouldn't trade motherhood for anything.
The thing any parent can tell you is that when you sleep with your child... you don't sleep. There are a number of reasons:
1) They're sick. Especially when they are infants and you're as paranoid a mom as I am... you won't sleep. You'll spend the night repositioning them so they can breath, not vomit, not cough, etc. You'll spend the night feeling their forehead, adding or removing blankets and/or clothing, wiping noses with tissue, heads with washcloths or (in the worst-case scenario) having to strip and re-make the bed. But you'll do it with little/no anger, just a resigned sense of love and duty as you suddenly remember your parents did this for you and you suddenly realize there is no way to thank them for all their sacrifices and sleepless nights.
2) They're "movers". William is a mover (as i believe his sister will be if her in-utero actions are any indication). This is karma kids. I was a mover, you see. Mom and sis both did not want to share a bed with me for fear of looking like they came out of the wrong side of a heavy-weight title match in the morning. I kicked, flailed, rolled, punched, smacked and wriggled. I can remember waking up as a child with my head at the foot of my bed and my feet on my pillows by morning. Well... William is the same. Sometimes I'm so tired, it pisses me off... but mostly I laugh. I laugh because I now know what I did to my mom. I remember the first time I slept with William when he was too old to be held while we slept and he rolled over and socked me right in the eye. I laughed so hard I nearly woke him up. I had to call mom the next morning and tell her that karma had struck back in her honor. I've also woken up with his feet in my face, his butt in my back, his palm slapping my forehead, his finger in my nose... you get the picture.
3) This best reason for no sleep... because you can't stop watching them. Last night as a "treat" William and I slept in the bed in the office because for some strange reason, he LOVES to sleep in the office. That and due to some pre-term labor issues, I'm limiting trips upstairs. So after he falls asleep, I get up to do some emailing and eating and when I return to bed, I find I can't sleep. I'm just staring at this little wonder who is hugging my body pillow like he's the pregnant one and marvelling that he came from me. In his sleep he grabs my hand and holds it and I'm just gone. I'm so in love with motherhood I can't take it. I must have watched him for over an hour before falling asleep. In that hour he moves all over the place, checks for me, snores and stops, pulls a blanket onto himself and then onto me, shoves the blanket off both of us and then finally rolls far onto the other pillow. I watch it all just amazed at this life and wishing it would all slow down.
He's already 2 1/2 with a sister on the way and it feels like he was just born sometimes. I call him a baby and realize he isn't. It's so wild and wonderful and crazy and beautiful. Now I know my my mom says she wouldn't trade motherhood for anything.
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