New Blog

Since now my stories invariably entertwine both kids... I have a new blog that can be found at mariskaplavin.blogspot.com

I just posted my newest adventure there... so feel free to laugh at or along with me there.

Piece by piece... he's breaking me.

My son has a way of killing me, just killing me... in a good way. Piece by piece he's turning me into mommy mush. I think it's intentional folks. I think he somehow knows that if he starts now by the time he asks for the dirt bike, skateboard, car, ridiculously priced athletic shoes...I'll just give in. A co-worker of mine, when William was a very small baby called him "Stewie" (from The Family Guy), because he said William had a little man face that always looked like he knew WAY more than the rest of us and was plotting his world domination. I totally concur.

This past week has been particularly full of verbal gems from him that either crack me up, melt my heart, or make me wonder just what goes on in that over-sized noggin (90th percentile kids, 90TH!) of his. Here are my favorites:

Maple Syrup - so William now gets the concept of laundry. Don't get excited, he's not doing it (I WISH) but he knows that once his favorite clothes/items have been worn/dirtied, mommy must wash them before he can wear/use them again. This has resulted in my being asked, nearly daily, "mommy did you do laundry? is my (insert item here) clean?" I have told him, nearly daily, that mommy does NOT do his laundry every day and that he must wait. So he has this Pillow Pet (for those of you who do not know what this is, it means you are both blessed and not exposed to children's television) that he begged for FOREVER and now that he has it, it is a higly loved item. Well, it was time to wash said pet and after hearing me being badgered for 3 days, my poor husband took pity on us both and washed it. Now thanks to various skin conditions we have two different detergents, fabric softeners and dryer sheets and I have no idea what combo my hubby used, but apparently, it smells like maple syrup. How do I know? Here is my conversation with William the other night as I'm laying down with him to listen to my usual 3 lullabyes.
William - maple syrup
Me - what?
William - maple syrup, I smell maple syrup.
Me - William you always say that, not everything can smell like maple syrup.
William - well, something does.
Me - ooooookay.
William (now sniffing at everything around him) - it's my pillow pet!
Me - Dude, what?
William - I'm SERIOUS, mom, it's the pillow pet. Smell it.
Me - I'm not smelling the pillow.
William - MO-OOOOM!
Me - fine. let me smell it. (I smell it) William, it smells like clean laundry
William - well, can you fold it back into a ladybug, i can't sleep on that.
Me - Dude whatever, I'll fold it.
William - thanks mom, I can't have my head smelling like syrup!
Me - (totally cracking up now) why William, afraid I'll eat your head?
William - (now totally cracking up)...no! don't be silly mommy, you can't eat my head. now, good night. I love you.

Let's Try This Again - Now I am very detail oriented, but at the same time (it may seem like an odd combination) I have a HORRIBLE memory. I believe it comes from being in a constant rush in my head. I speak quickly, I skim when I read, I juggle way too much all at once (I'm a mom, go figure). Unfortunately for me, William remembers EVERYTHING and makes a point of telling me when I mess up. The other night, though, it was done in such a way that I found myself amused by how a 4-year-old's mind works. I had turned our entire upstairs playroom into a giant "tent city". I assembled two of their play tents and then using sheets, binder clips, doors and anything else I could think of, I connected them with the couch, train table, Elizabeth's doorway, you name it. Very little of that room was not converted into a tent. I LOVED it, it was a very magical, whimsical, comforting room. William loved it so much, he asked me if he could sleep there. So there we are, listening to his lullabyes when the verbal magic begins...
William - how are you mommy?
Me - I'm great William. How are you?
William - I'm great too. Thank you for building me this cool tent room. I could sleep here every night.
Me - I could too, it's magical here.
William - yeah, mommy. Wanna sleep up here tonight?
Me - I'd love it, although the floor is kinda hard for mommy.
William - oh I didn't mean in my tent mommy. You could come back up when you're done doing your "stuff" downstairs and sleep in my room with the door closed, that way I don't have to hear your snoring.
Me - (dying laughing)... ah, okay William. I understand my snoring is loud. So I can sleep in your room?
William - yeah! You can even sleep on my pillow pet. But first, when you say that it's your last song and that you're going to go downstairs, I'm going to ask you to get me more Marley books first, okay?
Me - okay. so after I go downstairs I'll come back up and sleep in your room with the door closed so that you won't hear my snoring.
William - no, no, no. Mom, let's try this again. Did you forget something? I think you did.
Me - (laughing now)... oh right, sorry the books
William - right. now let's try this again. You're going to go to my room, get me more Marley books, THEN you'll head downstairs, do your stuff, brush your teeth, comb your hair, whatever (he's saying this in that sighing yada-yada-yada tone) and THEN you'll come upstairs and sleep in my room with the door closed on my pillow pet so I don't have to hear your snoring.
Me - (laughing so hard I'm crying now)....yes, yes. okay.
William - say it mom!
Me - say what?
William - what I said, what you're going to do. I thought we were trying this again.
Oh my god... this kid is using my own technique on me! Who is this kid?

Stitches - So today I went on a playdate with a new playgroup, but we ended up staying only 20 minutes because William took such a bad spill that he split open the skin under his chin. I did my best to remain calm, keep my face neutral, and inform him that we would need to leave the playdate to see the doctor, but in my head I'm thinking "shit! He needs stitches and he's a TOTAL drama queen." I'm not a squeamish person AT ALL, but discovered that I am when it comes to my kids. I was having trouble keeping my stomach calm every time I check the bleeding. Blech! We head to the doctor and surprisingly William is a CHAMP! He tells the nurse they need to hurry because he wants to head back to the park. He's telling the nurse and doctor about his Oregon Ducks jersey and how is Oom (Uncle) Dane had his head sewed when he was 4. The only crying came during the stitches because they couldn't get the area numbed as much as they'd like, but with only 2 stitches needed, giving him a shot to numb him would hurt more than just getting it over with, so they stitch him up. He's done crying by the time they sit him up and not only picks a toy out of the the "prize box" for himself, but gets one for his sister (who cried the ENTIRE TIME) as well. This whole moment set up SO many memorable quotes for the day, here are just a few:
#1 - we leave the doc's office to see a fire truck and ambulance arrive and he says, "wow someone must be really hurt! I bet they'll have to do more than sew HIS chin."
#2 - when I tell him he was so brave he says, "but I cried mom, why was I brave?" I told him that getting through something scary makes you brave, crying or not. He says, "oh cool! So do I look tough now mommy?"
#3 - I took him for a "special treat" at Toys R Us for being so amazing during the whole thing and apparently, it was enough to drown out the bad because when his Oma (grandma) called him and said she heard he had a crazy day he replied, "yeah! I got a motorcycle AND a new bridge for my train!"
#4 - this one was the kicker. We're all sitting at dinner talking after my mom had called - talking about his bravery, the cool park, his playtime with Daddy outside and the new video game they were trying and all of a sudden, after some silence I hear a quiet "mommy?" "Yes?" I say. He says, "This was the best day." I'm kinda tearing up at this (feeling horribly guilty for not catching him on the slide) and say, "even with your chin?" He says, "yeah, mommy, it was great. and guess what else?" I ask, "what else?" And he says, "I love you."

Oh man, this kid has my number... and I'm so proud he's mine.

Moments...

So JUST as I was planning this blog of my own called "Moments", another blogger (and friend and better writer than I) posted one called "Those Moments" about the moments in the day that make motherhood. I laughed. This woman, whom I only know online (she is the wife of a high school classmate of mine) is truly somehow my other half, my long distance BFF and someone who truly understands where I come from. I couldn't believe we were blogging the same thing at about the same time. I nearly decided to just skip this blog, but instead I dedicate it to her. Erika... this one's for you! (check out her honest take on life & motherhood at http://storyofaho.blogspot.com/).

Erika wrote hers because she often has others asking (and finds herself asking well... herself) why she had 4 kids. I came up with mine as I realized that, while my blog is often humorous (or intended to be), it is also often about the negative. The struggles, the uh-oh, the vomiting, the potty training, etc. It might make one think I don't like this little adventure called Motherhood that I've embarked on.

On the contrary, kids, I actually do LOVE this little adventure. Do I find myself asking, "why the h@#! did I do this?" from time to time? Yes. Do I often wonder if I have the emotional, mental and physical wherewithall to handle this job? Of course. But there are those moments folks, those moments that make it all worth it. You know the ones... if you froze them they'd look like moments from those feel-good family movies that you watch and think, "RIIIIIIIIIGHT, parenthood is really like that". The boy and his dad at a baseball game, the family laughing together at breakfast not a single damn hair out of place and everyone ready for school, the beach trip in perfect late-afternoon sunshine, even the supposed "horrible" moments like the mom and dad shooting eachother knowing looks over a vomiting child. Those moments. They happen and I don't want to forget them, because they are beautiful and they make this whole trip worth it.

There were a couple moments just recently where I actually stopped and thought about it. Both happened just this weekend... one with each kid.

The first was Saturday morning. It was William's first Duck football game. I cried folks, I seriously did. It was such a sweet moment. William (who is now old enough to be disappointed not to join Daddy and Pop Pop at Ducks games) has been asking when he can go to one. So this past weekend my father-in-law decides to skip the game and despite non-stop rain and recovering from surgery, Mike decides to ask William if he'd like to go to a Duck game. The look of joy, amazement and disbelief on my son's face was one I'll never forget. He was SO anxious to go that he asked about every 1/2 hour if it was time to go yet. When they did finally get ready to leave he was perfect... going potty, putting on his socks and shoes and all politeness. Then seeing the two of them, all "Ducked" out (complete with hats & ponchos), William with his Duck Lips noisemaker around his neck, hand-in-hand, leaving the house together just reduced me to tears. I hear them walking to the car and William saying, "yeah Dad! We'll have a Dude's Day. Just you & me." It KILLED me. I wanted to freeze time right there, a boy and his dad holding hands. It was beautiful.

The second moment was Saturday night. It was when Elizabeth (one might think this was a negative, but it wasn't) started getting sick. Elizabeth is an EXCELLENT sleeper, has been since she was 3 months old. She goes to sleep and STAYS that way. But Saturday night, something happened. I think it was a combination of teething and starting to get sick, because she usually sleeps even when she's sick. But on Saturday night she woke up 5 TIMES. FIVE. I would have normally been exhausted and thus annoyed, but for some reason I found myself thankful for the time to comfort her instead. She's 18 months old now and growing out of that stage where she likes to be held for any length of time. And LONG before her brother did, she grew out of the need to hold onto/sleep on mom when she feels ill. So this night, each time she woke, I found her wanting to just be in my arms and I really didn't mind the lack of sleep. The first time she woke, I was so taken aback by her wanting to be held and rocked, that I found myself crying as I held and sang her back to sleep. It took me back to when she was a tiny baby. When I held her so much and how warm and sweet it was to fall asleep together, even if it was sitting up in a rocking chair. I found myself missing those moments and even crying at the joyful thought that my sister is going to do this sometime soon as she is due with her first in November. Elizabeth's soft snoring, her looking up at me while I sang and her eyes sloooowly drooping closed while her little hand gripped my arm was just too much. The fact that something so simple as holding and singing to her (with my crappy voice) is enough to make her feel better is amazing to me. It makes me love being a mom. It made me cry. Chalk it up to hormones, lack of sleep, whatever... I'll chalk it up to loving a moment alone with my daughter, late at night, sitting in a rocking chair, holding on to each other, just the two of us breathing together.

There have been other moments, ones I wish I'd recorded. The impromptu dinner at the little league field with William as we ate corn dogs and watched about 2 1/2 little league games while the sun set. Watching William settle into his spot at the playdough table at preschool, suddenly completely unaware of us watching him as he introduced himself to other kids. The first mommy & me swim class with Elizabeth when she laid back in the water and just let me float her in a circle. Running through the neighbor's sprinklers with my kids in the wagon on the way home from the park because they were shooting over the sidewalk and I knew it would make them both laugh. Hearing Elizabeth's first unprompted "wa oooh" (love you) from her crib as I left her room at night. The perfect afternoon at the park with my husband, sister and brother-in-law where William decided that standing on top of the hill, picking flowers and watching the little league kids play ball was way better than the slides. The impromptu rush into the waves with William in Santa Monica although we had no dry clothes to change in to and it was cold as the sun set. Elizabeth walking over to William's room, pounding on the door and shouting "BUBBA!" to wake up her brother because she wanted to play with him.

Those are the moments folks. The moments you remember when the s@#! hits the fan. When you're tired, when the kids are sick, when no one naps, when you wonder if you're doing an okay job, when you can't stand repeating directions for the 100th time, when the day is too full of time outs... those are the moments you have to remember. It will all go too fast. It will all fade away and change. But those moments will make it all worth it. Those moments are why we're here... or at least why I am. :)

I'll never...

When you're not a parent yet, you will find yourself beginning sentences this way. When you observe another parent in public, when you read a story about something happening to a kid, when your friends/relatives become parents before you, you will do it. Maybe you don't say it aloud... but I promise you, you say it in your head. I'll never spank my kids. I'll never have a screaming kid in a store. I'll never bribe my kids with food. I'll never count to 3. I'll never let them sleep with me. I'll never feed them junk. I'll never use the TV as a babysitter. I'll never let my child throw a tantrum in a public place. I'll never let my kids stay up late. I'll never lose sight of my kid in public. I'll never fall asleep while watching my kids. I'll never find myself unprepared. I'll never say that, do that, let my kid blah, blah, blah.

Folks, I have a very unkind piece of advice for you. Shut up. YOU DON'T KNOW. You don't. You THINK you do, you think you can imagine, you think you can prepare. You are the armchair quarterback with the advantage of replay. You are the backseat driver. You are the one I envision now when I read "judge not, lest ye be judged" in my Bible. You are, in the eyes of us parents, the blathering idiot who goes on and on like your least favorite judgemental radio or TV pundit. I don't mean this as an insult. I don't mean you are stupid. I just mean you are inexperienced. You are the equivalent of a civilian offering a soldier advice when you've never even served. You are the little kid telling their mommy and daddy what YOU will do when you are a mommy or daddy. Shut up. You are merely embarrassing yourself.

I laugh now at my former know-it-all self for even thinking the thoughts I thought and I blush at the moments I had the gall to say it out loud. I used to think that I knew just based on what my mom did with me, what I would do. I didn't. Each situation is different, society is different, each child is different. I was you once folks, so I don't mean to insult you when I say again... shut up. Try the exercise I try daily now if I find myself even THINKING about judging someone else (especially a parent, but really anyone)... I stop and I remind myself that I have not walked in their shoes. That I am seeing that person in one small moment of their life and have no idea of what their history is.

I once promised myself, "I will never drive a mom car." I was the person with the ridiculously tidy car that was always vacuumed, always spotless, always ready to receive an unexpected passenger. I never understood how people could have clothes, food, unidentified lying objects, etc. strewn about their car. Now, I know. Long overdue cleanings of my car during the past four years have been known to produce the following: petrified cheerios, a plastic toy utensil, a lego clone-trooper helmet, a pair of Spiderman sunglasses I told William we lost, 6 month old receipts, sand, mud, goldfish crackers, a piece of petrified mac & cheese (what? they've never eaten that in the car dammit!), clone trooper action figures, Starbucks cups and/or lids (never still attached to the other piece), juice-box straws, yogurt (eeeeewwww), hair ties, hair clips, stuffed toys, wiffle balls, shovels, blankets, pacifiers, baby bottle caps, teethers, rice (again, never actually eaten in the car!), molding milk in a bottle or sipper (blech!), a diaper (yes, used... don't judge), a baby monitor (what? how did that get there?), clothing the kids have grown out of, gift cards with money still on them (yay!), petrified pieces of playdough (huh?), dvd's/cd's (no, never in the jewel case), books, toy cars, baby dolls, my sunglasses, an important phone number that it would have been nice to find WEEKS ago, pieces of my hands-free headsets, fossilized donut, every super-hero toy known to man, that toy I told William was not to leave the house, etc.

How does that happen, you ask? Why don't you clean your car out when you get home and you're coming inside? HA HA HA! Let me tell you why, kids. Shit happens. You're exhausted, your kid super-pooped on the way home, the other one fell asleep during a freakin' 10 minute car ride, you had to make an unplanned stop for supplies, the doctor ran late, the baby-sitter got sick, you had to throw kids and toys and food and supplies into the car in a haphazard fashion to make it to a last-minute doctor appointment because someone is puking, your even-more-tired friend asked you to watch her kids and in sympathy and solidarity you agreed, you had to work late, you had to leave a public place early because your usually wonderful kid is having a meltdown, YOU puked, you didn't plan dinner and have to now pick up something last-minute, you realize you don't have any infant Tylenol in the house and your kid spiked a fever, your spouse is out of town, your f@#!ing smoke alarms are beeping and you don't have the batteries needed to replace the ones that just died, etc. Shit happens. It will happen to you. Don't judge, try not to laugh and don't bother trying to prepare ahead. This isn't a test you can study for. Your test will be different... no copying from the neighbor folks. God in his infinite wisdom will make sure each test is individual so that you can't develop an answer key. You can't break into the office and steal last-year's test. Shit happens.

So the next time you try to tell your friend that counting to 3 is ineffective, the next time you tsk tsk a parent letting their kid open a box of cookies in the store before checkout, the next time you shake your head at the parent with the screaming child lying on the floor in Target, throwing juice at the pancake house, skipping a nap or watching too much TV... quiet yourself. You don't know. You don't know what happened to them yesterday, this morning, 5 minutes ago, at the doctor's, at school, etc. You haven't walked in their shoes. So quiet yourself and concentrate on walking in your own shoes.

So many things can affect your parenting decision... your marriage, your job, your economic situation, your support system, the past 24 hours of your life, whatever. So the next time you want to dish out some advice to your friends, family, neighbors, strangers and you are not a parent remember (these are taken from my own life and the lives of my parent friends) you don't know if:
The kid just had vaccinations and is reacting poorly, the a-hole working the list at the pancake house forgot you and you ate an hour later than scheduled, the kid is teething and not sleeping, the parent is working on a new skill or lesson with that child, the doctor ran an hour behind and right into nap/eating time, the kid suddenly had an onset of "poopiness" and managed to eat through the entire stash of diapers in your diaper bag, a power outtage means the alarm didn't go off and now the whole day is shot to hell, the kid got bullied at school and does not yet have the maturity to express it well, the parents are in the middle of a divorce and the kids are suffering, the parents SHOULD be getting a divorce and the kids are suffering, the parent is on 2 hours of sleep because kids are puking, teething, having night terrors, spiking ridiculously high fevers, transitioning from a crib, etc., the kid and parent are going through hell at an allergist because they're freakin' allergic to everything and you're running out of things to feed them, the kid heard something in a story that freaked them out, the parent just lost their own parent and thus the kid lost their grandparent and everyone is an emotional wreck, the parent just heard bad news at work or got laid off, the parent is driving a rental car because they just got into a horrific accident, the 2nd child is SO different from the first that the parents are trying every new trick in the book and seeking the help of other parents for new ideas, the weather took an unpredicted turn, you left the house in a hurry because you're a new parent short on sleep and forgot to pack an extra outfit for the baby who is then sure to either spit-up or crap out of their diaper, you just spent the entire night in the emergency room, an appliance broke, a freakin' loud jet flew overhead and woke the baby, the dog just ran away and you spent 2 hours hunting it down, you have to buy a gift for someone and are doing it at the last minute with kids in tow because every other catastrophe has also happened this week, your sitter called in sick, the parent is sick for a week and now the house is a mess and there are no groceries, EVERYONE in the house is sick for a week (which turns into 3 because of the incubation period) and the house is REALLY a mess and they've all been living on Pedialyte & Gatorade, a parent is recovering from a c-section, gall-bladder or some other surgery, out-of-town visitors came back-to-back and kids are thrown off very easily by disruption in daily routine, the daily routine is changing due to lessons/school/work changes, the kid is giving up their morning nap, the kid is dropping nap time entirely, the mom is going through some hormonal crap in an effort to get pregnant again, to avoid getting pregnant again or just age, an accident/last-minute issue means no one has eaten in a few hours and you HAVE to stop somewhere to eat because you're not going to make it home, the coffee machine broke, the parent's cell phone just broke or ran out of juice precisely when they needed to make an emergency call to home/sitter/job/school, a relative "passing through town" stayed way longer than expected...etc. In other words, shit happened.

As for fellow parents (and I need to remind myself of this!!!)... remember my favorite phrase from the Bible "How can you say to your brother 'let me take the speck out of your eye' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye. You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." Even if you don't believe in God, that phrase works. Basically folks, until you're perfect keep your trap shut and work on yourself before you judge others.

And remember... God, fate, the universe, Karma, whatever just LOVES to put you in a situation that you've seen someone else in and said, "Well I'LL NEVER..." Famous last words, folks, famous last words.

The BIG and the little things

Parenting is a roller coaster ride folks, or at least, it has been for me as of late. In the past few weeks I've struggled with my own depression, exhaustion, both kids being sick and our dog having a cancerous tumor removed (the cost of which eliminated my plans for visiting family in Southern California in August). I'm in therapy to handle all that I'm dealing with right now and, since today has been one of the calmest in a long time, I found myself reading past blogs and watching William and reading the posts/writings of other parents/friends I know. In doing all this I realized just how BIG the little things can be to a kid. I thought about how I really I have to remember to stop, think, observe and enjoy William and his growth and choose my lessons, my discipline and my words carefully because I am his example and his guide.

My biggest thing is that I'm trying to remind myself to be a calmer parent, to remember how hard it is to be 4 years old, how huge just one harsh word or look from a mother can be, how discouraging a bad mood on a mom can be, how awesome one butterfly can be, how amazing a new friend is, and how long just 5 minutes can be to a 4 year old boy and how what is logical to an adult just doesn't occur to a young mind.

Did you ever read the Ramona Quimby books by Beverly Cleary or Judy Blume's books like Superfudge or Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing? The magic of those books were how well the authors captured what the world looks like TO A YOUNG CHILD, not to an adult observing a young child. I wonder if those women were parents because when I watch William, my own thinking as a child comes back to me so clearly and it makes me smile at how HUGE the world is to a small child.

I forget how William's blow-up pool (which looks small to me) can become a shark-filled ocean, a large boat, a huge water park, his swimming class, a space ship and a fishing lake just with the power of imagination. I'm swept back to summers with my twin sister, crawling around in our much smaller kiddie pool and how we were mermaids and sea captains and passengers on a sinking ship. On the oh-my-god-I've-got-to-breathe-and-become-a-better-parent side... I also forget how my snapping in my exhaustion at William for forgetting to look for his sister before going down the slide or telling him that I just don't want to go in the pool right now can crush him instantly. I've got to slow down and play with him and I'M the one who needs to watch his sister so that he can just be an excited little boy.

I forget how real the characters in a story can become when you have a vivid imagination (which I always did as a child). After reading William a bit of one of his books today, I was charmed on the way to the park how an "imaginary" Jack, Katie and Cyclops (all from the book) were accompanying us. William made a point of opening the door for them when we walked downstairs to get his dad and made a point of telling his Daddy they were "walking right behind us" as we walked to the park.

I forget how much a child can look forward to something and how awed they are to be special in someone's eyes. My sister has 3 work friends Katie, Reed and Bekah who apparently love to play with William because he is one FUNNY little man. Katie and Reed (a couple) are moving away and wanted to hang and play baseball with him one last time before they left, but the day we were to join them all for brunch and some park time, William spiked a huge fever. It KILLED me to watch this kid who was red, roasting, listless with glazed eyes (103.5 fever) try to pretend to feel better JUST so he could go to the brunch he had been looking forward to all week. It took me back to being a kid when I was supposed to go fishing with my folks in the Sierras and I tried the "mind over matter" method to feeling better because I didn't want to spoil the trip. As a kid, the disappointment is monumental and cannot be made up. And then after he began to whine about my cancelling the outing right when Elizabeth was doing her "mommy, mommy, mommy" I snapped at him. Watching his little face fall was a slap in my own face. I apologized as I realized that I have the power to just crush his little spirit when I forget how hard it is to be strong and handle disappointment when you're 4. And tonight, as we did a make-up dinner and baseball at my sister's house, I lost it a couple times when William forgot his manners or got too loud in his excitement and spoke so harshly to him that I was immediately shamed when I saw his face. 4 year olds don't have the mental capacity or self control to contain their excitement and instead of pulling him aside and quietly reminding him (as I will have to do often as children that young cannot be expected to remember these lessons immediately), I embarrassed him in front of his "buddies". Way to go mom. Not sitting properly in a dinner chair when you're 4 and excited is a little thing... and yet I made it huge when it was an opportunity to show him how to live and just let go sometimes. Ugh.

Finally, I want to remember the more beautiful moments in seeing how big the little things are. In the past few weeks I've taken the kids with me on more errands and let William do more with me at home as I've realized that sometimes I can't get everything done on the weekend or when they're napping. I also realized in bringing them with me or involving William, that we've missed out in the past and I need to do it more often. For while running my errands I've seen how William's afternoon was made just by us taking a few moments to watch the jackhammer, dump truck and excavator working outside my optometrist's office. I realized how important he felt when he got to pick out tomatoes, put vegetables in the baggies and put groceries on the belt at check-out at the store. I saw him beam when he got to hold Sasha's leash at the Vet and make Elizabeth laugh during a doctor's appointment. I saw him puff up with pride when he remembered all the odds and ends on my shopping list at Target and then carried the bag filled with "his stuff" all by himself. I saw him build his confidence just by flipping his own pancakes, scrambling an egg, cutting his own food with a knife and putting his own dishes in the sink or water bottle back in the fridge all by himself. I saw him go from writing barely legible A's to very well drawn capital A's as I let him "make a grocery list" while I cleaned up the kitchen the other day.

It took me back in such a good way. I remember my Opa "letting" me wash dishes with him all by myself and feeling like such a big girl. I remember writing my name with my Opa and feeling like I'd conquered the world. I remember stirring cake batter with my mom or grandmother in the kitchen and how that could be better than any toy, TV show or promise... just to have that time with them and to do something that felt so BIG, so important. I remember feeling like I was glowing from within when my step-dad took the time to just sit with me and teach me to play piano. I remember the wonderful freedom and silly rebellion I felt when my mom whisked us away mid-school day once so that we could go up to the Sierras for some fishing. And I remember being so in to a story that I felt like the characters were all sitting right there with me.

I think I just need to wallpaper my house in sticky-notes so that I can remind myself over and over to be patient, to take a moment when I'm exhuasted so that I don't make William suffer for my own issues, to sometimes forget floor cleaning and play with my kiddos instead and to remember that I WILL have to repeat my instructions, lessons and words over and over and that that is OKAY, because William is 4. He won't think about how running too fast around the kitchen island is just a recipe for knocking over his sister. He won't look to make sure he's eating over his plate because he's just too busy EATING. He's too excited to be using a big-boy toothbrush to remember to keep his head over the sink when he spits. He doesn't realize just how LOUD his voice is when he is excited. When he successfully makes another kid or even better an adult laugh, he WILL get over-excited and be nutty because it feels wonderful to be noticed. To him, waiting a "couple minutes" so I can dry dishes can be an eternity. To him, getting to measure the flour or stir in the milk to help make the pancakes is WAY more important than having the pancakes on the table in time. I need those sticky notes to remind me that it's my job to make sure we have enough time to get places, that I need to make sure that my phone calls and emails and work and errands are done and not a reason for William to stress out, that if I keep him up late or let him get up late or wake him mid nap it is ridiculous to expect him to behave like anything other than an over-tired 4 year old, that it's MY JOB to make sure he goes potty before buckling himself in the car because 4 year olds don't plan ahead and that it's MY JOB to balance his and Elizabeth's varying needs due to their age-span because until he's older HE is the center of his world. And most of all I have to realize how lucky I am. He is alive, healthy, smart and funny. I get to stay at home with my children. I have a happy marriage. I have a great support system of family and friends, even if some of them aren't physically close. I need to view the world through his eyes when I'm about to lose patience, yell, punish, correct, command or teach... because I have to remember just how BIG all the little things can be.

What will they think... the flip side

So, two posts ago I wallowed in my own insecurities about what others might think of my parenting and I realized, thanks to a friend, that I'm looking at it all wrong. I'm stressing out for nothing!

You see, my friend Julie is in the middle of her own personal hell right now and yet she took the time the other night to listen to/share kid woes with me (her son is the same age as William). She said two key things that made me say, "oh my god, I've got this all wrong!". #1 as we talked about what struggles we're having with our boys and how different my daughter is from William, when I asked for her advice she merely said, "I don't know, really. I'm sorry, we just keep trying different things to see what works." And #2 she expressed her worry that sometimes, in losing her temper, she feared she was teaching her son the wrong lesson. And I realized, I shouldn't be paranoid about what other parents think... they're in the same boat I am! They have their own worries, their own styles, their own kids and their own lives to worry about... they're not judging mine! Shoot, if there were just one answer, there WOULD be an instruction manual by now. But there's not. We're different people, with different temperaments, with different kids. We're all trying, succeeding, falling down, getting up again, finding answers and finding new questions. What works for her son may not work for William, what works for William may not work for Elizabeth, what works for William THIS WEEK may not work for him next week. It's a crap-shoot kids. She was just brave (or sane) enough to admit it. She gave me the freedom to admit that it's okay to say, "I don't know... I'm just trying." In my insecurity, I feel like I have to have the right answers and I have to have them now. But carrying a child in my womb doesn't give me all the answers (nor does it give me eyes in the back of my head, but don't tell William). I will keep having to learn new lessons, and it's OKAY. Parenting is on-the-job training, you don't get the answers BEFORE the test... you discover them as you go.

So as I struggle with William right now, and he IS a major struggle right now... I will remember to enjoy being around other parents rather than stressing. Because I might learn something cool from them. I might see something they do that will spark an idea for me. And if I'm lucky, I'll return the favor by maybe thinking of something THEY haven't thought of yet. Instead of stressing that my friend Summer is WAY quieter when she disciplines than I am, I'll watch and learn... either that I want to follow her example or maybe that her example won't work for my kid. But either way, I'll learn. And when Julie and Nate (her boy) and William and I are having a playdate, I'll enjoy the differences... in our kids, in our parenting styles, in ourselves. It makes life more interesting and I may learn something new and exciting. And when my sister-in-law and her hubby and kids visit, or when my sister has her own child in November... I won't stress if we have different table rules, or discipline styles, or bedtime rituals or whatever. I'll be too busy worrying about whatever experiment I'm trying and they'll be too busy worrying about theirs.

My therapist once told me that in my own anxiety, I spend WAY too much time worrying what others think of me and not enough time living. She pointed out that everyone has their own worries, their own insecurities and their own lives... they're too busy to worry about mine. So I should stop worrying about them and just GO LIVE!

And so I will. This week, I will enjoy the differences between William and Elizabeth and learn to find what works for them separately. And as we struggle to deal with our latest challenge with William (he's forgetting his manners, he's WAY too hyper around company, he's being very argumentative and combative)... I'll just have to keep trying new things. I'll come up with my own plans or perhaps borrow some from other parents that might work. But most of all... I'll be OKAY with it. I'll accept that I don't have the answers and accept that no one else does either. We're all in this together. I'd better learn to enjoy the adventure rather than stew in my paranoia... because the last lesson I want to teach William is to lose sight of the road because he's focusing too much what's around the next bend instead of just putting one foot in front of the other. I want to teach him to enjoy the journey instead of wishing the whole time that he had a map that tells him exactly where to go.

These are a few of my favorite things... and on a serious note

Lest you think this is a lovely, touchy feely, Sound of Music inspired entry... let me disabuse you of that notion promptly. I love sarcasm and "favorite things" is sarcastic here. Well, mostly.

I was telling my in-laws the other day (to make them feel happy that parental curses do indeed come true and we have children JUST LIKE OURSELVES) about the two things William does that make me CRAZY just like I drove my mom crazy. Now, let me define crazy here. I don't mean those slightly annoying things children do that make you sigh, take your own time-out, or make you raise your voice. I mean face-red, hyperventillating, eyes-popping-out, shouting so loud the neighbors wonder CRAZY!

#1 - talking back. Now, you say, all children talk back. No no folks, no no. Not like this. William keeps talking and talking and talking and shouting and interrupting and muttering. Let me give you an example.
Me: William go potty and get dressed we have to take Tante (that's my sister) to work
William: I'm too tired.
Me: William we have 20 minutes (seems like enough time, doesn't it? keep reading) go potty and get dressed
William: No.
Me: William DO NOT tell mommy no. You do not argue with mommy. One more no and you get a time out. Now go!
William: It will take too long
Me: WILLIAM!! What is taking too long is you TALKing to me about it rather than doing it, GO POTTY AND GET DRESSED.
William: But I don't want to.
Me: Time OUT! Sit your BUTT down.
William: But we have to go get Tante.
Me: WILL-YUM! Time out and then use the potty and get dressed, we have 10 minutes!
William: FINE! (in the time out and muttering under his breath)... "i'm so tired, this is taking forever. I'm going to just stay here"
Me: What?! No talking in time out.
William: I wasn't talking
Me: You JUST DID. QUIET!!! I don't want one more word
William: But
Me: Zip it!
William: Bu..
Me: SHUT IT! Stop TALKING. STOP. Jeeezus!
William: Mommy don't say Jesus.
Me: (slowly) William. We. Have. 5. Minutes. Get up. Go Potty. Get dressed. Do. Not. Speak. Just. Get. Dressed.
William: Okay mommy. He goes to the bathroom. I hear a flush, sounds of hand washing and then, muffled from behind the door. "I don't like this shirt..."
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

#2 - Staring. My mom and step-dad like to tell a story of my mom going so crazy because we would not do what she asked us to do that she began heaving ALL her shoes down the hallway while screaming at the top of her lungs. This used to be funny to me. Now I know. Worse than William outright saying No or talking back is "the stare". William will choose to stare at me as though I have spoken another language. He doesn't walk away. He doesn't cry or scream. He doesn't protest. He stands stock-still and STARES at me as though I have seriously just spoken in another language. It makes me CRAZY. Shoe-throwing, so-help-me-God, C-R-A-Z-Y. Here's a sample from our past.
Me: William go potty.
He stands frozen, in the middle of the playroom, a quizzical look on his face.
Me: William!? Did you hear me? Go Potty.
Nothing. Frozen. Quizzical look has changed to mild concern. Perhaps he's thinking I'm going to have a fit.
Me: WILLIAM!! Go! If I reach 3 and you're not on that potty, you'll lose all your Star Wars guys, now go!
Still nothing. Starting to tear up. Frozen like an animal stuck in quicksand.
Me: One
Nothing.
Me: Two!
He's looking around, almost panicked, but still not moving.
Me: You'd better move, mister!
Frozen.
Me: THREEE! That's it, no more Star Wars guys.
Tears now... but still frozen.
Me: William, do you want to lose your baseball stuff next (he LOVES baseball).
Nothing.
Me: Fine you've lost all the baseball stuff too! Now Go!!!!!
Now's he's crying loudly but still not moving or using any intelligible words. I'm totally at a loss. I finally grab him by the arms and start lugging him toward the bathroom. He begins screaming like I've dismembered him, yelling "ow! We stop.
Me: Well, what is WRONG with you? Don't you understand me? I asked you a million times!
He's staring again and silent. I LOSE it.
Me: Am I speaking ENGLISH?! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!!! I said go potty! When I say go potty, YOU. GO. POTTY. You don't stand there staring at me like you don't understand English. You GO!!!! What is wrong with you? Go, Go, Go, Go, GOOOOO! NOW!
Still frozen, tears rolling down his face. I feel like a total shit because I have made him cry but I'm freaking out because I can't make him move and I'm starting to understand the temptation to hit and it frightens me.
Me: Jesus Christ William, forget it! Pee your pants. I'm going downstairs. I can't take this anymore. Mommy needs a time out.
William: (finally a response) Mommy, don't say Jesus Christ. It's not nice.
Me: (under my breath) seriously? kill me now.
William: what? are you just kidding mommy?
Me: (sighing) William, just go potty.
William: okay. trots off as though the last few minutes haven't happened.
Meanwhile, I need to shower, re-comb my hair and go away because I have worked myself into a tizzy of gigantic proportions. I walk downstairs and take calming breaths, pace a little, throw some pillows or shoes and try to talk myself into calming down and letting it go. I'm exhausted and I want to crawl in bed. And it's only 7:30 a.m.

The last part of the above situation brings to mind my current "favorite thing" that I do actually love. William is starting to get sarcasm and he is now often saying "are you just kidding?". Mike and I find this hysterically funny (usually) and love to joke with him now just to hear him say it. Like the other day he fell down and was over-doing the crying thing so I told him we'd have to remove his butt and get him a new one since it seemed to be so injured. The tears dried up, he smiles and says, "are you just kidding mommy?" Kills me. Or Mike will say something about food like, "well, we'll just feed you buffalo then" and William will look at him, totally unsure and say, "are you just kidding Daddy?" in a hopeful voice.

And finally, on a serious note. I read a horrible story the other day about a boy in Utah who was killed and buried my his step-father and mother... most likely because they couldn't handle a 4 year old's antics (they didn't have custody, he was visiting). I then read a blog post by a father that he wrote as an apology to his son (after reading about the boy in Utah) for losing his patience and yelling when the boy tore his pants or wouldn't go to sleep or made a mess while eating or splashed too much in the bath or wiggled to much in his chair at dinner. The man said, "I'm sorry for expecting you to act like a man, when you are just a little boy. I will adjust my expectations to your age instead of mine. I'm sorry son. Forgive me. I will be a better father. I will be more patient. Parenting is harder than I thought. But let me instead be thankful for each day I have you." I cried reading this because I had just freaked out about William sitting too far back in his chair at the table and thus spilling food off his fork. I realized, I too can forget that what makes sense to me, just doesn't yet occur to a 3-almost-4 year old. I realized I too need to adjust my expectations and instruct patiently, rather than just expecting him to know or to remember instantly a lesson that will take him years to learn because his memory just isn't that long. I realized he tries so hard to please and one just impatient word from me, one insult can just crush him. So next time he spits toothpaste down his shirt instead of into the sink, or in his excitement for life jumps down from his chair before being excused, or forgets to say please, or bowls over his sister while playing with her... I will remember. He needs reminding, he needs patience, he needs instruction and he needs me to try to be the best mom possible even if I'm tired, rushed, sick or in need of a break. I will remember to be thankful for him. Because each day I have him, I am lucky. I have been blessed with a son. One who loves me unconditionally. One who deserves to be allowed to learn, grow, fall and make mistakes without judgement. So one day if you read this William... I am lucky, I'm sorry when I lost patience. And you are a great little boy.

What will they think?

As I child, I was often worried (too worried) about what others thought of me. So I continually modified my behavior, my opinions, my style of dress, etc. to suit those around me. As I've been watching William over the past couple of weeks, I realize that he, too, is like this and I'm not sure if he learns it from me (kids are very adept at picking up on their parents stresses, moods and worries) or if it's an innate quality. Unfortunately his nervousness often manifests into an over-attempt to impress/entertain/gain approval from friends and family whom he seldom sees and he can get either hyper or over-sensitive. Unfortunately, I also realized, that I STILL care too much what others think and now that I'm a mother... I care too much what they think of my children, particularly my eldest as he is much more open to judgement at nearly 4 years old than is his sister (who at a year old is often just the, "awww isn't she cute" half of my duo).
I was analyzing last night why I'd been so stressed over the past couple weeks and it's because it has been particularly full of family and friends. Between a brunch/baseball game with my sis and her friends, a huge Mother's Day gathering at my house, 3 playdates with friends he cherishes very much and whose mothers mean a lot to me... it's been a lot. Not because it's bad to be busy or see all those people, but because I finally realized last night, that I was worrying too much of what those people thought of my parenting and of William's behavior. As we played with my friend Summer and her boy Gavin, I realized that I tried to soften my voice, my demeaner and my discipline because they are much quieter people than Mike, William, I (and I assume Elizabeth too) are. At Mother's Day I found myself worrying if my sister and her hubby, my in-laws and my sis-in-law and her hubby found me too harsh, too soft, or a combination. Around my other friend Julie, who is less strict than I, I found myself struggling to make my house rules known lest it seem like I was criticizing her in the process.
I've come to the conclusion (and those of you mentioned in this who will read this, please don't take offense)... it doesn't matter what anyone thinks. I have to do what I feel is right and parent the way I want to parent. I have to take pride in the fact that, so far, every teacher, coach, babysitter and co-Mom's Club or Tiny Tots member that I've talked to has commended me on my son's behavior. Yes, he can get loud... but I don't find loudness, unless it's combined with rudeness or done when I've asked for quiet, to be bad behavior. He is a GOOD kid. But more important than what those teachers, coaches, etc. have said...what matters is that MIKE AND I think he's a good kid. That he behaves (in our house) the way WE EXPECT and follows the house rules in other people's houses. Because I want to teach William to be who HE IS, no matter what others think as long as it doesn't hurt others or stop their right to be themselves. If he likes baseball when his other friends don't, so be it! If he likes Star Wars or cooking or Iron Man or doing puzzles and other kids don't, who cares?
So if my friend Julie thought I was too harsh making William clean up his sand toys before joining the other boys in the big playground, so be it. I want William learning to clean up for himself. And if she thought it was too harsh when I told her son that at my table toys are not allowed during eating time, but since it was a special time he and William could be excused before she and I finished, so be it. I want William knowing what I expect of him at the table and that during a special time (Nate just lost his grandpa), we can sometimes make exceptions to make the most of the short time we might have with special friends.
If Julie, Summer, my neighbors, my sister, family or in-laws disagree with our table rules or house rules, so bet it. In our house a disrespectful noise earns an instant time-out. In our house we respect eachother's words and boundaries (this one is taking major reminding right now... he has trouble being GENTLE). In our house you are seated during the family meal and excused when all are finished... however, during "long" occasions (ie. the adults will be talking for a LONG time) he may be excused early to play in ANOTHER AREA or he may color quietly at the table. In our house, it is okay to ask questions of mom and dad or to make a goofy face/sound at your sister to make her laugh. Dinner time for us is family time and requires manners, but it is not done in stone silence. We have fun, we laugh, we talk to each other. I want William to know this is okay, even if at Tante's house, Aunt Jo's house or Mom Mom's house it might be different. And in my house you SHARE the larger toys and the rule with other toys is that it is not okay to grab away toys, but if you put it down and walk away from it, it is fair game. In our house I don't care who started it, I WILL FINISH it. I won't always catch who did what or who said what, so my policy is to re-state the rule and restore order without assigning blame. I want William to know that you must share, you cannot hord, that I won't take sides and that, even in his house, he gets no special priveleges, in fact... if anyone does, it's the guest! I also need him to know that if the rules are different elsewhere he MUST follow them. He is to respect and obey his elders in their respective homes, classes, etc.
If my friend Summer thinks my voice is too loud or harsh when I correct William or that he and I play too energetically... so be it! I want William to enjoy a crazy game of baseball (with or without the proper rules), a frenetic game of basketball, a story full of silly faces and noises, playing with his sister even if it means both of them squealing at the top of their lungs, and being the boy he wants to be because life is short and I want him to make the most of it. He just can't do it at the expense of others. They don't have to like it... but they cannot be harmed by it.
I know he will forget his manners, shove and be shoved, cry, be too hyper, be too quiet, be too sensitive, etc. These will be my moments to teach him. I know he will have to learn that different rules apply in different places... so far he's pretty adept at understanding that, but he can learn even more. I know at times I can spoil him, but I'm also able to tell him (as I did just last week) "no" in the toy aisle of a store and have him calmly reply "okay, mommy". I accept that some will find my parenting too harsh, some too lenient and some just right... and I will learn not to care. Because I want William to know who HE IS. I want him to care for others as he wants to be cared for... but not to change who he is because of their opinions. I want him to know what he wants and to respect that others may want something different. I want him to respect others' differences in appearance, tastes, discipline, religion, politics, etc. WITHOUT judgement and with careful thought. And I want him to know all this because I want to lead by example. I want to be me no matter who I'm around.
And most importantly I have to say, so far I'm very proud of the son I'm raising. This is a boy who when someone else cries at Tiny Tots says, "mom, can we go cheer them up?". This is a boy who, tonight, when he sensed I wanted a quiet dinner, sat and ate quietly and then asked me if I was sad. When I assured him I was just tired, he offered me a piece of the special chocolate bar his daddy bought just for him. This is the boy who, when I say it's time to leave the playground/friend's house/park, etc. says nearly without fail "okay mommy" without tantrum or protest. This is the boy who, when someone attempts to correct him in our house per a rule he KNOWS is not mine, still obeys and then asks me later quietly if that was right. This is a boy who asks me daily (more than once a day actually), "Mommy, how's your day so far?" and actually cares what my answer is. This is the boy who, when we went to breakfast with parents who had far different restaurant rules than I had, accepted my answer of "different mommies have different rules" without question even though he was sad he wasn't allowed to do what the other boy was doing. This is a boy who can tease his sister one minute and then offer her his favorite doll the next. This is the boy who wells up with tears when he thinks he's offended someone or done something to make them mad. This is a boy who is doing 100 piece puzzles, reading before the age of 4, learning to write all his letters, already helping with the dishes/dogs, etc. and doesn't complain when doing any of the above interrupts his play time.
So I will stop stressing about what my friends and family and acquaintances think of me, my kids or my parenting. I will learn to be confident in my choices so my kids in turn, will be confident in theirs. And, although I am not the patient, quiet, calm parent I would prefer to be... I will be proud of who I am, who I am becoming and who I am raising. I hope William can be just as confident. He's an amazing kid, and I don't care if you agree.

The Lessons We Teach and The Words We Say

So I've learned recently that with a 3 1/2 year old, the lessons you teach and the words you say can come back to you in so many ways. The following are some of my favorite and/or most meaningful examples from the past few weeks.

"Deep Breaths Mommy!" - So William has this habit of yelling "argh!" and slamming his fist down onto whatever is close to him whenever he is angry or frustrated and it's something I realized that he gets from both Mike and myself. So I tell him the other day that we are all going to work together as a family to handle our frustration better because it is not okay to yell or hit things. I told him that I will remind him and he must remind me and Daddy that we are to take deep breaths and count to 3. Little did I know, that little sucker would remember this lesson INSTANTLY. Now, it was charming when I heard him playing with his Clone Troopers and upon dropping one, stop himself mid "argh!" and breathe out a slow "Ooooone, Twoooooo, Threeeee". However, it was not charming the other day when I was on day two of a migraine, was totally exhausted, was trying to figure out what was causing Elizabeth's sudden onset of diarrhea and resulting blistering diaper rash and was attempting to change her. You see, she was so itchy and in so much pain from the rash (turns out the kid can't handle cow's milk yet), that as I tried to change her, she kept getting her hands in the way. And as I did not want her ingesting the lovely combo of corn starch and Butt Paste that I was applying to heal her, I was locked into an endless cycle of apply products-Elizbeth gets hands in it-mommy has to pin down legs and hands to wipe them off and reapply products (I swear this happened, like 6 times in a row and Elizabeth is now SCREAMING) that I finally screamed "Geez! I just want to get this damn diaper ON!!!" at the top of my lungs at which point I feel a little hand on my shoulder and a voice shouting over the din of Elizabeth and I... "DEEP BREATHS MOMMY!". I can laugh about it now.

"Freedom" - so Elizabeth loves to be nude and to run away from me while nude. This is a lovely little game she particularly likes to play after her bath when I've dried her off and am now reaching for one of the multitude of creams/ointments I have to apply due to her irritatingly sensitive skin. And every time she does I say, "well... there she goes! FREEEEEDOMMMM!". Now William is usually either in his own bath at this point or playing by himself or watching one of his TV shows, so I didn't really think anything of it until a funny little thing he said the other day. William and I are playing Dinosaurs while Elizabeth is napping and I notice and eyelash sitting on his cheek. So I wipe it off and tell him he can blow it away and make a wish. Now ALL this child has been talking about since he saw the commercial is this freakin' $100 remote-controlled Dinosaur named "Spike". So after he blows away the eyelash, I ask him what he wished for, fully expecting the answer to be "Spike-the-long-necked-dinosaur" (as he always says it). Instead, without missing a beat and still looking at his toy dinosaurs he says... "Freedom". I laughed so hard I think I snorted my coffee and when I could finally breath again I asked, "do you even know what freedom means?" He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment or two and then just shrugged and said, "nope."

"$100 Dinosaurs and Get Away From Me!" - People think long and hard about those very short, seemingly meaningless moments you have with your children where you may have uttered something you think they will never remember. And if you want to know your child's general impression of you... listen to them play make believe, you will find out how important those meaningless moments are. Today, William is playing with his dinosaurs and Daddy at the table while I am preparing an Easter Brunch. He has a multitude of them up there, but to three in particular, he has assigned the roles of Mommy, Daddy and Son Dinosaur. Now, it is well known in this house that I am currently my son's favorite. He freaks if it's not my turn to tuck him in and often shouts "but I want Mommy" when Dad attempts to read to him, tuck him in, wipe his butt, etc. I would be flattered, but lets face it kids... it's because I'm a stay-at-home mom so 90% of his time is spent with me. And before I could get too cocky... today's role playing with his Dinosaurs put me back in my place. In the first portion of his role-playing game Son Dinosaur and Daddy Dinosaur are at the Blue Store (Toys 'R Us) shopping for Son Dinosaur's "special treat". (William has a board wherein he earns good or bad magnets for behavior and can earn a "special treat"). Now recently, when Mike took William shopping for a "special treat" he'd earned, William asked for this freakin' Dinosaur that he saw on a commercial that is huge and remote-controlled. It's also over ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS. So when William asks for it, Mike very honestly replies, "William, that's like $100 dollars, it's not a special treat. That's more like a birthday present or something". So while he's role playing with his Dinosaurs his Son Dinosaur asks the Dad Dinosaur for "Spike the long necked dinosaur" and Daddy Dinosaur says, "no son, it's $100 dollars". Son Dinosaur says, "oh, I'm so sad... I really want him." To which Dad Dinosaur replies, "Oh, okay... you can have him." Mike at this point totally busts up and says, "Wow William, Daddy Dinosaur must make a lot more money that real Daddy." And I say, "well, your son obviously thinks you're a generous Daddy." Now I turn back to cooking and a little later I hear Son Dinosaur approach Mommy Dinosaur and ask her something, to which Mommy Dinosaur yells, "Get Away From Me!". I froze. Lately, William's behavior has been, let's say challenging, and in one of my least proud moments, when I was really sick and he was yelling and being horrible I yelled back, "just get away from me! Come back when you can behave". As if I didn't feel terrible enough, apparently this is the moment that stuck with my son because while it happened QUITE a while ago, he chooses this moment to role play. The worst part is that he had mommy Dinosaur say it more than once and when I remarked that Mommy Dinosaur sure seemed grumpy he just replied, "yeah... she is." Ouch. Guess who needs to work harder on not taking her frustrations out on those around her? Lesson learned William... Mommy will try to be less grumpy.

"Cheese the Rice or Cheese and Rice". The other day Mike walks up to me and asks me if I have been talking to our son recently about "cheese and rice". I am completely baffled and say, "uh... no, not that I'm aware of." "Weird," Mike replies, because William keeps getting frustrated and saying "Cheeeese the Rice" (note: that when Mike says it, it is in the tone usually reserved for muttering Jeeeesus CHRIST in frustration). I start laughing hysterically as I realize what has happened. I recently have decided that I need to remove the phrase "Jesus Christ" from my frustration vocabulary because, whether or not you believe in God, I'm thinking it's a rather offensive thing to say. Now, William knows that this is a phrase we are trying not to use so if he catches me saying it, he'll remind me that it's bad and I always own up to it and apologize. So the other day, I'm heating up a lunch of leftover Thai soup and rice that was stored separately and I totally forget to add the rice into the soup until the last minute and then proceed to spill some as I hurry to add it in because I'm starving and the kids are already working on their lunches. So as the rice skitters across my stove top I say, "Geez! The rice..." just talking to myself as I always do while cooking. I hear an exasperated sigh from the table and William says, "Deep breaths mommy! You're not supposed to say that!" Now, I can't for the life of me think what he's talking about, so I say, "what? what did I say?" And he says, "Jesus Christ, mommy... you're not supposed to say that." Now I laugh because I realize what he thinks he heard and I sputter out, "no! no! I said, geez the RICE!". He looks at me like I'm full of you-know-what and turns back to his food. Apparently, his look was because he thinks that I really did say Jesus Christ and that, in an effort to cover my tracks, I claimed to have said "cheese the RICE!". He apparently further decided however that "cheese and rice" sounds more plausible and for the past few days we've been hearing him mutter "cheese and rice" under his breath when he's frustrated. He's killin' me!

Lest we forget...

So William said something particularly funny this evening and Mike said, "we'd better start writing these things down before we forget them" and I realized I keep a list of these things to put in this blog. However... it has been a while since I've blogged. Luckily my list is still up and I've been keeping track... so here are a few of William's latest gems:

1. Breatist - this is how he currently pronounces breakfast unless I make him slow down and say it properly.

2. Renember - his current pronunciation of remember

3. Magnec - this is how he says Magnet

4. "But the doctor said I didn't have to nap... just have quiet time" - his response to my telling him to lie down and try to nap. Why on earth did I inform him that his pediatrician said that even if he doesn't nap, he needs to be laying down quietly for at least an hour each day?

5. "I think you should get me that for my birthday" - said about nearly every toy he sees, now that he has clued in that there's something BESIDES Christmas where he gets presents.

6. "Hallie's coming over? I'm glad... she's beautiful and wears beautiful clothes" - his response to my telling him we're having a playdate with his friend Hallie. Good lord, it starts early doesn't it?

7. "Don't bother me... I'm pooping" - shouted through the door to his little sister as she tried to break into the bathroom.

8. "Wait, wait, wait, mom... let's try this again." - said to me after I told him that he lost his Star Wars ship for the day for not saying "yes mommy" and instead screaming "NO! I don't want to!" when I told him to use the potty before lunch.

9. "Next time we have to tell the doctor, 'no pokes' mommy... because I don't want to throw up again" - said after he heard me pondering out loud to Mike that perhaps his vomiting was a reaction to his Swine Flu vaccination.

10. "Are you just joking" - now said whenever he has caught on to my sarcasm when I say things like, "okay, let's not use the potty and just poop our pants today".

11. "But I didn't say ha-HA! I wasn't brave" - said tearfully when I told him we were going to get a strawberry shake at McDonald's after receiving a double injection (one regular flu, one swine flu) at the doctor. Mike had told him to just say "ha-HA" at the nurse after she pokes him, which he successfully did after the first shot, but not after the second.

12. "Wanna get that for me?" - his way of asking for a toy, making it seem like it's something I WANT to do rather than something he wants.

13. And the one Mike didn't want to forget... tonight, when he asked William what he wanted to get Elizabeth for her birthday he responded, "How about a Clone Trooper with a helmet that doesn't come off?" (because I always tell him to keep his Clone Troopers that have removable helmets out of her reach so she won't choke on the small pieces, but of course, she ALWAYS wants to play with what her brother is playing with).

Can't beat the kid's logic right? Makes me look forward (usually) to what will come out of his little head and mouth next.

You Know You're a Parent When...

This is another one that I'll post here and at elizabethplavinsmom.blogspot.com since it applies to both kids. I was laughing to myself recently thinking of all the things you do as a parent without even thinking about it and that you thought you might never do. Mike and I giggle constantly about the state of our lives as parents and I thought I'd better write some down before we forget the craziness that is our life together now that we're parents.

You know you're a parent when:
1. In the dead of night at the smallest noise from the baby monitor, you can jump out of bed, charge up the stairs, move a vomiting child into a bathtub and strip a queen-size bed in less time that it takes your sleepy wife to meet you up upstairs (honors go to Mike)
2. You find yourself with a breast pump unit tucked into your sweats and the flange strapped to you via your tank top or bra so that you can pump and still get two kids ready and in the car at the same time (honors to Mariska on that one).
3. You hear "come look at this big poop!" coming from your bathroom and think nothing of it because you're used to your toddler's pride at his bowel movements.
4. You sleep sitting up on a couch with your knees up just so you can keep a sick baby propped up all night while they sleep (Mariska has done this with both children)
5. You know without having to look first that Commander Cody is downstairs with Clone Captain Rex, but their helmets and blasters are upstairs and that R2-D2 was last seen in the bathroom because you remember playing with your son and where he deposited the various elements of his Star Wars toys as he blew through the house like a tornado (Mike's the champion at this)
6. You find yourself eating a smaller meal because your child wants to "share" yours (we've both made this sacrifice - OFTEN)
7. You've uttered phrases like "look at me when I'm talking to you", "I'm the parent, I make the rules", "for the last time will you...", "who do you think you're talking to?", "put that down!", "your spoon is not a blaster", "don't climb on me, I am not a jungle gym", "keep the water INSIDE the bathtub", "I don't care who started it!", etc.
8. You've played baseball in the park with your toddler and had your infant strapped to you via a sling so they could sleep at the same time (yes, Elizabeth could sleep in the sling on my back even while I chased William around the bases!)
9. You've been kicked, hit, slapped and punched by your sleeping child because you're sharing their bed with them during a particularly bad bout of nightmares or illness.
10. You've declared a room "monster free" just so your kid would go to sleep.
11. You've used all your blankets and furniture to build a tent because you remember how much YOU loved them as a kid.
12. You've literally CRAWLED into your baby's nursery to check on them so that you're hidden behind their crib bumper because your baby is now old enough to FREAK OUT if they can see you.
13. You've found yourself singing some nursery rhyme, children's song, etc. over and over again because your child's toy has been playing it non-stop.
14. You've ever spent hours on Christams Eve night wrapping presents and putting together some gift you bought your kid without realizing how many freakin' pieces it came in.
15. You've vacuumed, dusted, washed dishes, cooked or cleaned with a child attached to you via a baby back-pack or sling (Mike and I have both done this one).
16. You've been seen walking through an airport, supermarket, etc. with a stuffed animal because your kiddo insisted they needed their buddy and then no longer wanted to carry it.
17. You've gone to work on 4 hours of sleep or less (Mike and I both hold honors in this one).
18. You've called one child by another's name (or the dog's name, your sibling's name, your spouses name, etc) because you're tired, frustrated, flustered or all three.
19. You've driven around the block (or farther) with your baby in their carseat just to get them to sleep/stop crying.
20. You've slept on the couch while your baby sleeps in their swing because you CANNOT get them to sleep anywhere else that night.
21. You've been soaked to your underwear by spit-up and you calmly finish feeding and/or cleaning your baby before changing and cleaning up yourself.
22. You've eaten a meal with a squirmy baby in your lap, usually giving up on finishing the meal becuase it's too tiring to keep playing "keep-the-spoon-fork-plate-napkin-tablecloth-cup-from-the-baby" (baby's limbs seem to stretch to fantastic lengths at the table!)
23. You've gotten to the checkout line at the market and discovered a "surprise" in your cart because your child's reach is longer than you knew and they threw in an item or two.
24. Your vehicle is littered with Cheerios, Goldfish crackers, blankets, socks, action figures and squeaky toys.
25. You take one look at your sleeping child and no matter how crazy your day has been you think, "This is the best!"