cute kidlet tricks

Mom's revenge.

2006-04-05T21:00:00.000-04:00

I love my kidlet, but oh mah GAH can that kid talk! Every morning and evening in the car he asks questions for literally the entire ride without stopping. On occasion he'll get playing with something or singing and he'll be able to self-occupy, but most often it's questions, questions, questions. I don't mind answering the first twenty or so, but then it starts to get wearing, especially as he wants whoever is in the passenger seat to turn around and look at him while talking. Right around turn-around time #21 I start feeling queasy.

"Mommy, what doing?"
"Mommy riding?"
"Mommy riding in car?"
"Mommy, look - car!"
"Mommy, big car?"
"Mommy, big car drive?"
"Mommy, people drive big car?"
"Mommy, big car drive?"
"Mommy, people go home?"
"Mommy tired?"
"Daddy tired?"
"Michael tired."
*yawwwn*
"Mommy, see seagull?"
"Mommy, seagull up in the sky?"
"Mommy, blue balloon in sky?"
"Mommy, seagull get blue balloon?"
"Mommy, seagull miss mommy daddy?"

...well, you get the point. In addition, if he's not happy with our response or the enthusiasm with which it is offered, he'll just keep asking the same question over and over again until he gets the desired result.

Most days I can handle it, but some days it drives me bonkers.

This morning I said to him, "Darling, you know I love you more than anything in the world, and I love talking to you. But Mommy can't turn around to talk to you any more or else she's going to throw up. Could you tell me a story instead? I'd love to hear a story."

"No."

*sigh*

I understand now why adults would get so impatient with me when I was a child, as I NEVER SHUT UP. I'm sure getting my comeuppance now!

Asian women love white babies.

2006-03-23T20:52:00.000-05:00

Last night we ended up getting sushi at a really cool place we had never been, and of course all of the waitresses loved little Michael. I don't know what it is about red-headed white babies, but Asian folks just love em. I realize how racist that sounds, but every time we go to an Asian restaurant the kidlet is a huge hit with the people there. More than a few places we frequent, within minutes he'll be snatched up by a comely female staffperson and whisked away to the kitchen to visit the cooks. They always want to give him sweets, too, which I don't understand. Maybe it's a cultural thing, or they think it's a cultural thing for Americans? In any case, kidlet has made us more friends at places...I never feel nearly cool enough to be hanging out with him.

Last night was no exception. Within ten minutes Michael had four waitresses eating out of his hand. They all came over to talk to him and touch his hair, he was just loving the attention. At one point he was being very hyper and daddy Michael told him, "Michael, please stop being naughty, when we're in a restaurant you need to be quiet and sit down." I don't really agree with his telling kidlet that he's "naughty", and I certainly don't let him get away with calling kidlet "bad" (he's done it a few times, but not lately after we talked about it). One of the waitresses came by a minute later and kidlet said, "Mommy Daddy say Michael naughty. Mommy Daddy say 'Michael, sit down!'" The days of strictly censoring ourselves has begun.

Overall we had a very lovely meal, both the food and the service were excellent. Kidlet got to practice eating with chopsticks, and I have to say that he's getting pretty good at it. Of course as soon as they saw him using chopsticks, his fan club of adoring Japanese women was back. Our waitress has a three-month old son, so we talked to her a little bit about having children. And of course she looks fantastic only three months after having a baby. Hmph.

Wah!

2006-03-21T21:48:00.000-05:00

Tonight I put kidlet to bed by giving him a cup of water, carrying him into the bedroom, getting him settled on the pillow, pulling the blankets up, tucking in a few stuffed animals, kissing him, saying goodnight, and leaving. Seriously. Kid went to sleep, ON HIS OWN, and I didn't have to even be there with him. I was surprised! I guess he's growing up.

WAH!

Assorted

2006-03-17T20:45:00.000-05:00

wednesday

I'm doing much better today. Still snuffly, but it's mostly inside my head so I just sound worse than I feel. Hopefully my sinuses will drain in the next day or so and I'll be back to normal.

This morning when I left home it was sunny and chilly. Now when I look outside it's grey. Then two minutes later I look outside and it's snowing, and one minute after that I look and it's stopped. New England weather. Gotta love it.

- an hour later -

It's sunny again. Weirdness.

The deal with the strawberry shortcake wasn't that kidlet realized he wasn't the center of the universe (because he still is), but that daddy Michael said "No" to him so quickly and without thinking...now, adults like you and I understand the finer points of speech, but toddlers do not. Saying "No, this is for Mommy," didn't imply to kidlet that he might be able to get his own, instead it said to him, "No, I am rejecting you." So the onus lies on us as parents to be cautious about how we use language with him until he understands its full meaning.

In my opinion it's the same thing with humor and horseplay...when kidlet was around eight months old we stopped doing the "I'm going to eat your (arm, leg, belly, whatever)" because at the time we were teaching him not to bite. You can't teach a kid not to bite by turning around and showing them that it's all right to play at biting. We also don't make jokes with him that aren't obvious, and we always make sure he knows when we are joking and when we are serious. I try to look at things through his eyes, never having seen things before, and realized that a lot of things can be misconstrued.

I get really sad when I see little kids with toy guns and knives and the like...before I was a parent I didn't see why people got so upset about so-called "violent" toys. I thought that the parents could teach the kid that it's a toy and how to play appropriately with it. But now I realize that knives and guns should NEVER be toys, that's not what they're about. And that is something I don't want to expose my son to until he's ready to understand just what these things do. He already knows that knives are sharp and can hurt people, and I suspect that soon we'll be having the gun discussion even though we have no guns in the house and he never goes places that have guns.

- day passes -

thursday
That was from yesterday, this is today.

Last night when we went to the daycare to pick up kidlet I entered the room and saw him quite happily flitting about in a Disney Princess dress (I think it was Snow White's) and someone had French braided his hair. He was very cute. He walked up to me with a sparkly pink toy cell phone in one hand and started shouting, "Mommy! Mommy! Lights moving! Shoes! SHOES!" while dragging me to the window. I looked out the window and it took me a moment to figure out that he was talking about the flashing red lights over a crosswalk down the street, and not far from that, hanging from the power lines, were a pair of white sneakers.

On the way home daddy Michael and I got talking about the "Ohhhhh! MEEEEE?" incident of the other night and kidlet piped up, "Ohhh - meee?" (thoughtful pause) "Daddy said no." We exchanged a look and I said to him, "Daddy wasn't saying no to you, honey, daddy loves you very much." Kidlet again said quietly, "Daddy said no," and looked dejected. Daddy reiterated to kidlet that he does love him very much and that seemed to satisfy him a little. I said to daddy Michael, "That kid picks up on everything, doesn't he?"

- another day passes -

friday
Man, where does the time go? I had other stuff to talk about that I've since forgotten. Oh well, it's not like I'll never write again...I always find something to babble on about.

Have a good weekend.

Today is a momentous day.

2006-03-16T19:28:00.000-05:00

*fanfare*

Now, this certainly isn't the first time kidlet's gone pee in the potty. Kid knows how to do it, he just chooses not to most of the time. BUT, this is the beginning of our actively acknowledging and encouraging it.

During his bath tonight he started shouting, "Pee! Pee!" and clutching his penis, so daddy Michael was able to get him out of the tub and on the toilet in time for him to do his business. Then, after his bath, we were sitting watching TMBG Here Come The ABCs when he did it again, grabbed his penis and shouted, "Pee, Mommy! Pee!" We quickly put him on his little potty and he peed again. That got me thinking that maybe it was time.

I'd always heard that incentives can help a child learn to use the toilet, and until now I'd been waiting for a clear indication that Michael was ready to take that step. I decided to try it out.

A few weeks ago while we were at Office Depot kidlet spotted these stickers and really wanted them. I bought them but told him that I would save them for a special treat (learning to use the toilet was what I had in mind, in fact). I brought out the stickers and the sheet of paper you see above, then explained to Michael that every time he went pee or poop in the potty, he would get a sticker to put on his sheet. He got extremely excited about this concept so I had a feeling it might be the right time.

As he had just peed, I gave him one sticker and he put it on - his first one! On the sheet the little fire trucks, rescue planes, and police cars are all pretty small, except for one BIG 3" fire truck sticker. Did I mention that kidlet is absolutely gaga for fire trucks these days? He wanted that one, but I said, "That's a BIG fire engine, Michael - you get that one when you make a BIG poop in the potty."

"Michael poop in potty!" he shouted, and ran back to the potty where he sat for about fifteen minutes. At first he was straining and I told him to relax, that whenever he had to poop was fine, he didn't have to do it right NOW. He grunted and said, "Poop...coming...out!" It wasn't. But he sure thought he could will it to be so. It was funny.

I got a few pictures of him on the potty because I had just brushed his hair and it was so pretty. For those people who ask, "When are you going to cut his hair?" I want to show them this and say, "How COULD we - just look at it!"

I like this one...he was trying to keep me from taking a picture of his face so I held the camera out around him to get this shot. He is Not Amused.

Then he laughed at me and tried to grab the camera. He looks goofy but I like this face because it's genuine:

After he sat on the potty for a while, he got up to show off his sticker for me.

Then, as daddy Michael came downstairs, kidlet excitedly told him about the sticker, too. I like this picture because you can see the ring on kidlet's butt from sitting on the pot for too long:

Incidentally he peed again after I took these pictures, so now he has two fire engines under 'PEE'. He keeps looking at that big fire truck sticker longingly, though. I don't think it'll be long before he earns it.

I asked him if he wanted to wear underwear or a diaper, and he said "Diaper," doubtfully. I explained to him that if he woke up in the night and wanted to use the potty, to let Mommy or Daddy know and we would help him take off his diaper and use the potty. That seemed to satisfy him. Now I guess we'll see if he does.

I felt very encouraged by this development. Like any parent, we've been wondering when kidlet would start to learn to use the toilet, and of course hoping it would happen soon. However we didn't want to force him into it if he wasn't ready. I think he might really be ready now, he was really psyched about those stickers and fortunately I have eight sheets of them.

Those fragile toddler egoes.

2006-03-14T20:28:00.000-05:00

I knew that the fragile ego would soon come to pass, and it has. Kidlet is very sensitive these days. Most recently he's decided he's afraid of dark rooms. He says, "Mommy, Michael scared," if there's no light on. I've dealt with this somewhat by telling him to scare away scary things with the stuffed Fluffulu I got for him, as Fluffulu is a nice monster who will protect him. All he has to do is hold Fluffulu out and go "RAAARRRRGH!" when he's scared. That's working for now.

Last night, however, Daddy Michael came home not with Chips Ahoy like I asked him to, but instead with strawberries and whipped cream. I was annoyed at him at first, but in retrospect he was doing me a favor, anyway...

After dinner, of which I ate very little, I was sitting on the couch trying not to think about how miserable I felt when Daddy Michael came in and asked if I wanted some strawberry shortcake. He knows I have a weakness for this, I love those buttermilk biscuits (don't ever try to pass off those crappy "angel food shells" on me, that's not real strawberry shortcake!) so of course I said yes! He warmed my biscuit in the oven (awww), and put an impressive tower of whipped cream on the top. As he walked through the dining room, kidlet went to the door of the living room and in a super excited voice said, "Ohhhhh! MEEE?!" Daddy Michael said, "No, this is for Mommy, she doesn't feel good."

The look on kidlet's face could have made Charles Manson weep. At first I thought he was just pouting, but it became very clear very quickly that he was extremely upset. I said, "Michael, do you want to share with Mommy?" and he silently shook his head no. Daddy Michael asked him, "Would you like Daddy to make one for you?" and again, the headshake no. I said, "Michael, make one for him." "He doesn't want one," he said, and I replied, "No, you'd better make him one." We were both staring at kidlet while this conversation took place.

Kidlet stared at us for a long moment, and I said, "Are you okay, baby?" and then his face crumpled up and he ran to daddy, wailing. Daddy held him for a minute, then I took him while daddy went off to make another strawberry shortcake. Poor kidlet's body was wracked with sobs, this wasn't simple manipulation. It was obvious that the poor kid felt rejected. He was SO excited when he saw Daddy with the dessert and then SO crushed when told "No, it's not for you." I felt terrible.

Daddy Michael returned with a mini strawberry shortcake in one of Michael's teeny bowls and he quietly accepted it, then sort of stared at it. He still seemed pretty dejected. We talked to him some more to cheer him up, then he was able to eat it and was happier.

I remember as a child feeling mightily dejected in similar situations, so it's obvious to me that we have to start being careful with how we throw around "no" with kidlet now. He's started taking things personally and we don't want to make him think it's HIM being rejected.

It was a funny-yet-heartbreaking situation.

Sleep, how I love thee.

2006-02-16T23:12:00.000-05:00

In other news, kidlet has been going to bed so well this week. I swear he's been swapped out for someone else. On Tuesday night I got him in his jammies (we always say "Ready to jam in your jammies?") and said, "Okay, time for bed!" and he walked to the bedroom, asked for his baby Cookie Monster and his doggie and a cup of water, then lay down and said, "Mommy, lay down with Michael!" I lay down next to him with my head propped up on one arm and he waved his hand at me, saying, "No, no - Mommy lay down - lay head down." I got under the covers and snuggled up to him, after a few minutes of him positioning me with my arm over his body, then over his legs, then off of him completely, then my hand on his head until he was satisfied, then he just went to sleep. I was able to get out of bed after about five minutes and that was it.

!!!!!

Last night, we went to bed together as I was falling asleep sitting on the couch. We snuggled up together and after the requisite few minutes of positioning me, he nodded off. Amusingly before we went to sleep we had an argument - got settled in and then he dropped his cup off the edge of the bed on his side.

"Mommy...reach Michael's cup."
"Michael, Mommy is sleeping. Get the cup yourself."
"No, you get it."
"No, you get it."
"No, you get it."
"Forget it, Michael, Mommy is sleeping."
"You get it."
"Nuh uh!"
"*grumble*"

The last two nights I've been getting plenty of sleep (7 and 9 hours, respecively) but I still feel like toasted horse manure when I wake up in the morning. I'm not sure if I'm being roused in the middle of a REM cycle or I've just been sleep deprived for so long that it's taking some time to recover, but I sure as heck hope this doesn't go on for much longer. I neeeed my sleeeep!

Inflatable Family Fun!

2006-02-15T23:05:00.000-05:00

Over the weekend we took kidlet to an "Inflatable Family Fun Center" which means it's a big indoor playground that has huge inflatable stuff to play on. This place had two bouncy castles, a humungous slide, and an obstacle course thingie. They also had a toddler room with a bunch of toys in it, so we went there to let kidlet get acclimated to the place, which was filled with dashing, shouting children due to a birthday party. For about half an hour he stayed close to us while playing wiht toys in the toddler room, first making us sandwiches and tea in the Barbie kitchen (we really need to get around to making him a kitchen playset out of a cabinet and some Goodwill implements), then chugging the train around the train table (another thing we need to make, and maybe I'll luck upon some more Brio sets on clearance someday) with another little boy around his age. He was with his mom, a younger woman who seemed very friendly and nice. We ended up talking and she had three kids with her that day, the two older ones were playing out on the inflatables.

While kidlet and Daddy were in the toddler room I went out into the main area and asked the woman behind the counter if it would be all right to go into one of the bouncers with my son, since he was so little, to show him the ropes. "Yes, you can go in," she said, "but you have to take off your shoes and you can't do any jumping." Uh, right. "I assure you, I plan on doing no jumping whatsoever," I replied with a laugh.

I returned to the toddler room and asked kidlet if he was ready to check out the rest of the place - he said no. I said, "Come on, just come take a look at this giant pillow you can jump on!" and he begrudgingly allowed himself to be carried out to one of the bouncers. I put him on the step to get in and he got this panicked look on his face, scrambling off. Daddy Michael picked him up and bounced him on it a few times and he warmed up. Daddy Michael said, "Why don't we try the slide?" and kidlet seemed amenable to that.

The slide was pretty big, and close up to a little person like kidlet it was gargantuan! He paused while watching the kids slide down, obviously excited at the concept but not sure what to do. The staff person who was handling the slide said, "You can go down it with her if you want," and daddy Michael gave me a raised eyebrow. "My shoes are harder to take off," he said. Fine. I slipped off my shoes and hoisted kidlet up on the surface. The stairs up were sticks of wood anchored into place for traction for one's feet, and two nylon straps on either side which one would haul oneself up holding on with one's hands. I put kidlet in front of me and helped him get up the steps while holding on for dear life and praying the entire contraption wouldn't tip over with my weight on it. I realize that this wasn't possible, but I couldn't help visualizing the entir thing capsizing and us stuck in this inflated staircase, our hands in a death grip around the straps.

We made it to the top, followed by a stream of excited kids all impatient at having to wait for kidlet's slow ascent. After they threw themselves down the slide, I sat at the top and put kidlet in my lap. I looked down the slope, feeling quite keenly the fear of heights that usually remains dormant. I knew rationally that I was only twenty feet up, max, on a giant inflated pillow, but it looked like a straight two-mile drop onto concrete to my paranoid brain.

I laughed, said, "Ready? Whee!" and pushed off. We slid to the bottom and I miraculously avoided shattering all of my bones and turning my internal organs into inert goo on the cushy rubberized surface below. Kidlet jumped up immediately and ran to daddy Michael while I carefully stood up, straightened my pride and headed for the exit. I don't know how cool a 200-pound woman can look going down one of those slides, but I gave it all the dignity I had and emerged unscathed.

After that point, kidlet was unstoppable. We took him to the obstacle course next, which consisted of a climbing slope with a drop on the other side into a forest of inflated poles that one had to dodge around, a horizontal crack one had to squeeze through, then a tube to crawl through to the end. Kidlet couldn't reach the first hand- and footholds so we had to boost him up (I noted a minimum height rating of 36" - kidlet is 33", shhh!) but once we did that he was totally into it. He'd get to the end, then jump up and immediately run around to either the bouncer, the slide or the obstacle course again. He LOVED it. He was totally brave, too, as the majority of kids were at least three times his size, yet he just went ahead and did what he wanted. He was so cute hauling himself up the staircase of the slide - the kids would get backed up behind him having to wait for his little arms and legs to make the climb, but he plodded on at his own speed and did a great job.

There were only two incidents with sugar-hyped bigger kids, one when he was climbing the first wall of the obstacle course when a much older girl (nine, maybe) came up behind him and was shouting, "Move! Move! MOVE!" at him. I said to her, "He's a little guy, it takes him longer, you'll have to be patient," and she heaved a big sigh and said, "Well can I go?" There were two climbing approaches to the course, and I was about to suggest she use the other one when kidlet stepped back and turned to her so she could go next. What a gentleman.

The second incident I didn't witness, but daddy Michael said that kidlet squeezed through the horizontal crack and had just landed on the other side when an older girl (who knows, could have been the same one) came through the crack quickly and conked heads with him. He wasn't any worse for the wear, and one of the staff asked the girl to slow down.

A lot of the older kids were very hyper, from the birthday party, I think, and were literally running everywhere even though there were signs reading "SLOW" at every juncture. I also didn't see their parents actively watching them, either. Hmm. Kidlet was great, though - we'd tag along behind him as he went from one thing to the next and if it was crowded or he was getting too wild we'd say, "Walking feet, please!" and he'd immediately stop running and walk as quickly as he could. It was very cute and I was proud of him for listening.

There were also a couple of skeeball machines and Michael's toddler room friend Zachary was over at one of them, where he joined him. The kid's mother, Becky, came over and put a quarter in so the boys could roll the balls up the ramp. It was really nice of her and the kids were so cute. At one point Zach's big sister came over and was helping both boys roll the balls. Previously I saw her helping her little brother on the slide, and she even gave Michael a hand on the obstacle course when he needed a boost. I told her she was a very good big sister and thanked her for helping Michael.

The indoor playground (I refuse to call it the inflatable family fun center) was a big hit, and I will definitely be bringing kidlet there when daddy Michael is away on Saturday nights playing D&D with his nerd buddies. It was $7 each child, but you could also buy a ten-pack of passes for $50. Totally worth it. Kidlet had such a great time and at the end was plum tuckered out.

With song

2006-02-15T22:59:00.000-05:00

We do a lot of singing in the car on the way home from Portland in the evenings. Many times kidlet initiates, sometimes by starting to sing on his own, or asking to sing a specific song. He really likes to sing the alphabet song, though his alphabet sounds more like, "A-B-C-D... F-G-B... F-X... E-B... sing with meeee!" He also likes The Wheels on the Bus. The other night I heard him singing quietly to himself, "Mommy on bus, shh-shh-shh! Shh-shh-shh! Alllll through town!" We made up a few verses such as "The Daddies on the bus go - Fart! Fart! Fart!" and "The Grandmas on the bus go: Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!" I asked him what Michael's Mommy does on the bus, and he sang, "Talk! Talk! Talk!" We went through the people we know and all of our friends go "Talk! Talk! Talk!", his friend Thomi goes, "Da! Da! Da!" (one of her favorite words when she was less verbal), and Grandpas also go "Fart! Fart! Fart!" like Daddies, apparently.

He also loves the songs off of the No! album so we end up singing "Robot Parade" and "In The Middle, In The Middle, In The Middle" most evenings.

Trickery

2006-02-15T22:53:00.000-05:00

Kidlet is amazing. I know I say that a lot, but I really, really mean it!

Lately we've had to employ some trickery and coercion in order to get him to eat his meal. Being a boy with lots of energy, he likes to get up and run around in the middle of dinner and sometimes forgets that he was eating. At daycare he eats a ton, but I attribute that to Monkey See, Monkey Do since he's with eight other kids. The challenge lately has been keeping him in his seat and focused on his meal.

One of the more effective ways we've found is to say, "Oh, look, ravioli, I'm going to eat it, yum!" and make as if we're going to eat it, and he'll get agitated and say, "No! Michael eat it!" and then he'll eat it. If he's already full he'll just say, "Yeah. Daddy eat it," and sometimes he'll even offer it to us.

The other night my stepfather was over for dinner and Michael started banging his spoon on his metal tray. I told him to stop banging his spoon or I'd take it away, and of course he just grinned at me and kept doing it. Dave reached over and took the spoon from him and placed it on the table, and kidlet just looked at him with big wide eyes. Dave said, "Your Mommy said to stop - PopPop doesn't put up with banging, it hurts his head." Kidlet wasn't sure how to react, as my stepfather is an unknown to him. He knows how much he can get away with with Mom and Dad, but PopPop? He didn't take any chances, just pouted a little and ate his food without any more fuss.

Last night he decided to start blowing bubbles in his cup of soy milk - we've been giving him a regular cup at home and he does really well with it, until he decides to start dropping things into it or pouring it out deliberately. I turned to him and said, "Michael, please stop blowing bubbles in your milk. Cups are for drinking." He stopped for a moment, then grinned devilishly and resumed burbling. "Don't make me call PopPop!" I said, and he looked at me curiously but still didn't stop so I picked up the phone, punched a few numbers without turning it on, and held it to my ear, saying, "Hi, PopPop? It's Jen. Yes, Michael is blowing bubbles in his cup. What? Oh, okay, I'll let him know. Thank you, bye!" I put down the phone and said, "PopPop says to take the cup away since you're blowing bubbles and I asked you not to." Kidlet wordlessly handed me his cup. When he asked for it ten minutes later and I gave it back to him, there was no burbling.

So I wonder - is it right to employ deception like that? I mean, I could have really called Dave and asked him, and I'm sure he would have said the same thing. I don't know how I feel about manipulating him like that. It was a heck of a lot easier than just telling him I was going to take it away and doing so - with us he'll get upset and sometimes pitch a fit. Hmm.

Anyway, on to the smart part. After dinner daddy Michael cut up some strawberries and I found a small amount of whipping cream in the back of the fridge, so we each had coffee mug with strawberries and a dollop of unsweetened whipped cream. Some kids don't like whipped cream unless it has sugar in it, but I prefer it plain and apparently kidlet does, too. He scooped out the whole amount, licked the cream off of his spoon with relish and asked for more, leaving his strawberries in the cup. We urged him to eat the berries, too, but he more or less ignored them. I gave him the mixing bowl that I had whipped the cream in so he could lick out the traces left on the sides, which was completely adorable, then I went into the other room to get the bathroom ready for his bath. I could hear daddy Michael talking to him, saying, "Are you going to eat your strawberries, Michael? If you're not going to eat them, can I eat them?" to try and get kidlet to eat them. A few minutes later the two of them came into the room and Michael said, "Tell Mommy the trick you played on Daddy." Apparently kidlet called daddy Michael over saying, "Daddy, eat Michael's strawberries!" and when daddy Michael went over to him kidlet had already eaten them all! We all laughed at Michael's joke.

Now, it might not seem like much to you, but the fact that kidlet came up with and executed a joke on his own is hugely significant to me that he's developing a true sense of humor. A lot of humor is very subtle and children take things very literally, so I was proud to see that he's starting to understand when something is funny and not literal.

Stick OUT!

2006-02-08T19:04:00.000-05:00

Last Friday I picked up kidlet from daycare and then went to the Portland Public Market to buy a loaf of bread for the weekend (little kids love french toast, you see). While I was there the flower shop had some balloons tied to their "Happy Hour" bouquet specials. Kidlet loves balloons, so I asked if he could have one thinking they would just give me a display balloon as they were closing in an hour anyway. The woman said, "Those are just for our display," meaning what, exactly? I'm not sure. The place was nearly deserted. Anyway, I said, "Well, do you sell them?" "Oh yeah, we sell them," she answered. I asked if I could buy one (are you rolling your eyes yet?), and she said yes. $1.50 later (!) my kidlet was the proud owner of a sky blue balloon. He wanted to hold the string in his hand, but knowing that he would let go of it I looped it through the velcro cinch on his cuff. He very happily walked beside me, balloon bobbing along behind. It was really damned cute.

We went outside and I helped him go down the stairs, and as you can probably guess the moment we hit open air the balloon somehow removed itself from his cuff and flew away into the darkening sky. He looked up in shock, his mouth a wide O, and as I looked down at him I had the distinct thought that this could either go fine or it could go very badly. The latter was the case. His little face crumpled up into a rictus of agony and he started wailing. Here I was, standing on a soggy street corner with a paper bag holding two loaves of bread and a bouquet (which was overpriced, by the way!), with a piteously sobbing child by the hand, looking up into the sky. My car was parked in a 5-minute spot. I ushered Michael back to the shelter of an overhang so I could put my bag down, then I hugged him as tightly as I could while he cried. I got him to calm down a little and tried telling him the story of when I was a little girl and lost a balloon much like he did, and my daddy told me that the balloon had flown away to find another little girl or boy to play with. Yeah. Kidlet was having none of that. "My balloon...my ballooooon..." he wailed.

Since my child was so obviously in gut-wrenching pain and not just manipulating me to get what he wanted, I decided that getting him another balloon was in order. I picked up child and bag and went back inside, where the flower girls saw me coming and got that "Oh no, sad child!" look on their faces. I told them that we had a balloon mishap and asked if we could have another. They didn't have the same blue so kidlet got teal, which he was dubious about but accepted graciously. They also didn't have any problem charging me another $1.50.

Sigh. $3 is a pittance to pay for my child's happiness, but still, how much do those things cost them?!

This time I tied it in a double knot to the zipper of kidlet's jacket. No way was he losing this one. He held onto the string with a death grip as we descended the stairs a second time. All the way home he said. "Michael sad, miss blue balloon. Green balloon make Michael happy!" I also asked him where he thought the blue balloon had gone, and we made up stories about it. One was that the balloon went high into the sky to visit the clouds, then a birdie flew by and grabbed the balloon string in its beak and brought it back to its nest for the baby birdies. Another was that a boy in an airplane looked out the window and saw the blue balloon flying by. Michael seemed satisfied with these stories and even told Daddy all about them when we got home.

The two most pitiful things ever are a child crying with a mouthful of food, and a child who has just lost a balloon.

And since I can't talk about my kid without talking about junk, here's another classic "He said what?" conversation from last night.

(Kidlet sits on the couch in a towel, fresh from his bath.)
Kidlet: MOMMY!
Me: Yes Michael?
Kidlet, voice of awe: LOOK!
(I glance over. Kidlet is pulling on his foreskin like there's no tomorrow, stretching his penis to twice its length. I cringe.)
Me: Um, that's nice, honey - please don't hurt yourself.
Kidlet, voice of wonder: Mommy - Michael penis stick out!
Me, to my husband: Maybe you'd better handle this conversation.
Michael: What's going on?
Me: Michael has an erection.
Kidlet: Look! Penis stick OUT!
(Kidlet thrusts hips into air, displaying that yes, indeed, his penis is sticking out.)
Me: Yup, it does that sometimes. That's just what it does.
Kidlet: Stick out! Penis stick out!
Michael, to kidlet: Uh huh, it's sticking out. Is it hard?
Kidlet, happily: YES!
(Michael and I laugh. Kidlet looks down at self, tugging penis everywhichway.)
(Eventually he loses interest and a few minutes pass.)
Kidlet: Michael pee couch.

What wild and crazy times we have, yes indeed.

Wednesday stuff.

2006-02-01T19:58:00.000-05:00

Kidlet. Ah, kidlet. There are so many cool things that have happened with him lately and I haven't had time to write. I hope I can remember a few.

He's figuring out some pretty complex concepts, much to my surprise. The other night we were out to dinner and ran into some friends of ours, so we stopped by their table to say hello on the way out. There was a photo hung high up on the wall of a boy and his dog, standing back-to the camera and peering up at a pie perched on a high ledge out of their reach. Kidlet stood and stared at it until I asked him what he was looking at.

He pointed at the photo and I said, "The boy and the dog are looking at the pie."
"Can't reach it," he said after considering the photo a few moments more.
I replied, "That's right, it's too high. I think the boy's Mommy made the pie and put it up high on purpose so they won't eat it."
"Get ladder, reach pie?" here he stood on his tiptoes and reached upward toward the picture, grunting "unh, unh."
"Yes, I suppose they could get a ladder to reach the pie," I said.
"Mommy get pie?" he asked me.
"No, I can't get the pie, it's just a picture," I replied.

He's also singing a whole lot, to himself, to us, to whoever will listen. He's started singing the alphabet song though he gets mixed up once he's past E or so. Michael and kidlet made up a song about ravioli, to the tune of "Wooly Bully":

RaviOLIAAAAAAAAAY!
Ravioli!
Ravioli - ravioli - RAVIOLI!
(Eat it now, eat the ravioli!)

Ugh, there's more, I just can't remember them. I'll give it some thought.

Sleep.

2006-01-24T19:35:00.000-05:00

The past few days have been much better in the sleep department. Michael told me after this past weekend that he "wouldn't be upset" if I decided to wean kidlet. I don't think I'm ready to do that yet, but I definitely need to put my foot down about the all-night nursing marathons. I've changed things a little in that I won't nurse him lying down when he's ready to sleep, to avoid the dreaded volatile boob lamprey, and I won't let him nurse in the middle of the night any more. Michael has been putting him to bed, which has been going surprisingly well, and when I've come to bed later I move kidlet to his own little bed, waking him up, then I sit beside him and softly repeat, "It's time to sleep, Michael, put your head down and go to sleep," and offer to rub his back. Much to my surprise I've been able to get him to go back to sleep without much fuss, certainly not the all-out temper tantrum I've become accustomed to.

I'm still nursing him first thing when he wakes me up in the morning, and then first thing when we get home in the evening before dinner. That way he's still getting to nurse but it's not when he's tired so I don't have to deal with him falling asleep on the breast and freaking out utterly when I try to pry him off.

I was worried that refusing him boobie during the night would result in more tantrums - this is what would usually happen, but since Michael's been putting him to bed and not me I've been able to fend him off without too much trouble. He usually wakes up at some point and crawls into bed with us, looking for me. I turn my back and wrap the sheet tightly around my chest, and he's started to get upset, then grabs the cup of water we keep at the head of the bed and goes back to sleep after drinking that. Last night he didn't even whine, just took the cup and lay down between us.

It's been such a relief, I tell you, and I pray that it continues this way. I was getting so strung out and frustrated with him, you have no idea. I'm very proud of him, change isn't easy when you're two and he's dealing with it better than I expected. I'm thankful I didn't have to wean him completely and can start to enjoy that time with him again instead of dreading it.

2006-01-18T20:28:00.000-05:00

Kidlet has been very restless lately, and I'm not sure why. I'll blame it on a growth spurt. He's been waking up multiple times a night wanting boobie and to be frank it's getting tiring. I wish I could just sleep while he nurses but he does too much flipping around and groping that it keeps me right on the edge of wakefulness. Ugh. Then of course the little craphead takes a nap in the car on the way to daycare. Must be nice! I wish I could take a two and a half hour nap in the middle of the day, too!

I need a sleep capsule.

Shoes, again.

2006-01-16T20:57:00.000-05:00

Re: shoes:

It's true that arches are primarily a matter of genetics, but I also believe that living in hard-soled shoes can hinder a child's feet from developing arches naturally as they do all the supporting for them. There's a lot of literature out there in regards to this and it makes sense to me. I know my mother put me in those classic white leather hard-soled shoes when I started walking, and I do wonder if this had anything to do with my resulting flat feet as the rest of my family has arches. The best thing I do for Michael is have him go barefoot as much as possible, as the shoes I get for him aren't allowing his feet to strengthen themselves. I don't want the kid to necessarily have high arches, I just want him to have the arches he's supposed to have.

The quality of the shoe is important to me more for durability and support when shoes are necessary, those plastic crap shoes don't do a thing for a kid's feet...or an adult's, for that matter. Also in my case, warmth, as living in Maine it's necessary to have shoes that insulate properly or else you'll be miserable.

I've had many a pair of shoes in my day and I've found that every single pair of Payless cheapies I buy I either end up destroying in record time, or there's some comfort problem with them and they end up in the back of my closet. I went through a lot of cheap shoes to learn this lesson, come take a look in my closet some time. The shoes I wear over and over again are my Merrell hiking shoes for the outdoors, my leather Earth shoes for times I need something slightly more dressy, my Simple sneakers for everyday wear during the warmer months, and my Birkenstock sandals for hot weather, simply because they feel the best out of everything I own. That's why I now buy better-quality shoes...though they may be more expensive intitially, I save money in the long run as I don't buy four pairs of cheapo shoes looking for something that fits right and don't suddenly start rubbing in the wrong place a few hours after leaving the store.

It all comes out in the wash, especially as I now have a full suite of shoes in excellent shape for the next kidlet.

Now I totally want to go back and check out those womens' fleece-lined Merrell clogs I saw when we were getting kidlet's shoes.

Ribbit.

2006-01-16T20:56:00.000-05:00

Last week kidlet started complaining about his feet hurting and taking his shoes off in inconvenient places (like restaurants, and then wanting to get down and run around), and we decided it was time to get him some new shoes. There's only one honest-to-God shoe store in my town, and one of the things that I am adamant about is getting good quality shoes for the kidlet. No Payless or Wal-Fart synthetic jobbies that offer scant support and just fall apart in a matter of weeks. I don't want the poor little twerp to end up with flat feet like his mama.

The shoe store carries Stride Rite, which I have to admit for the money are a really great shoe. They're sturdy and nice looking, no logos or characters or weirdness. Kidlet has two pairs of sneakers and a pair of short boots in graduated sizes, we've only had to buy him one pair each time his feet grow. They're solid enough that he can wear them in wet weather and they won't leak. I'm not totally happy with having him in rigid soled shoes, but at home he's barefoot all the time so I think he'll be okay. Unfortuantely living in Maine his Robeez don't get a lot of wear during the Winter/Spring months.

(Of course now that I've seen August in Pedoodles I really want a pair for kidlet!)

So, off we went to the shoe store on Sunday...to find that it opened at 11am. It was only 10am so we went over to Home Depot to see what sort of light fixtures they had and compare them to Lowe's and the vintage repro store in the Old Port we were perusing last week. (You see, I'm already thinking about the bathroom and a dainty 4-1/2" clawfoot iron tub.)

We returned just as they were opening the doors, and I think we made the salesguy's day...the moment the store opens we walk in, know exactly what we want, and make a substnatial purchase all before 11:30. Kidlet walked in proudly, bundled in his poofy red jacket, pom-pom hat and mittens. The salesman immediately said, "Looking for shoes for your little girl?" I corrected him as we were going to be his source of commission for the morning. I don't get it! He was dressed completely in boy clothes AND his hair was tied back, it wasn't even visible under his hat. Sigh. Kidlet's just a pretty little man. The salesguy was an older man and I don't think he has children of his own as he didn't seem to know how to interact with kids very comfortably. He wasn't a bad guy, he was just awkward. Ah well.

First off, we had him measure kidlet's feet, and our suspicions were confirmed, he's gotten bigger. His old sneakers (well, five months old) were size 6-1/2 and the shoe store guy recommended a 7 or 7-1/2 for him. I picked out a few pairs of shoes I liked and asked him to get them in the proper size. There were some adorable Merrells that I loved (I have a weakness for Merrells as I have wide feet and they are one of the few shoes that fit me perfectly) but they only came in whole sizes and were a smidge too big. Maybe this summer. They'd be great for him, though, as he's constantly tearing around and climbing on things.

After doing some looking I decided NOT to get Stride Rite shoes this time around, believe it or not. The one pair that I really liked they didn't have in kidlet's size and the others were too babyish or not what I was looking for. Instead we settled on a rather expensive pair of Ecco shoes (in the brown, not the pink), but when they were on kidlet's feet they fit perfectly and really suited him. They're really nice. I want a pair for myself!

The winter boots were all on sale so I asked for a pair to try on kidlet - he's been borrowing some boots from the daycare as he no longer fits in his pair from last year. We decided on a pair of Kamik boots, which were really nice and exactly what I was looking for (and $10 off which was nice too).

Last but not least, last year I really wanted to get kidlet a pair of rain boots but for some reason never did. I didn't see any on display in the front window where they usually are, seeing as it's Winter. As I was browsing I found a small display tucked away with the sign "50% Off Rain Boots!" with a number of cute styles to choose from. We let kidlet pick out his own, and he fell completely in love with the froggie rain boots. This is good as they're the same ones I would have chosen for him.

The salesguy was funny, he kept trying to recommend very boycentric styles to me (perhaps due to his faux pas in regards to kidlet's gender upon first meeting us?) - when I was looking for snow boots he held up one pair, saying, "These ones have a monster truck on the front!" and I had to gently steer him to the plain black pair. When Michael showed such enamored delight over the froggie boots, the salesguy commented, "You know, I think I have a pair in the camoflage in his size if you would like them." I decided to show the guy and said to him, "Let's have Michael pick them out." I brought him back over to the display and said, "Honey, which of these boots do you want? You can have whichever ones you like best." He examined the eight or so styles available and once again hugged the froggie boots, saying, "Michael like froggie!" I said, "Are you sure? Are there any other ones you like instead?" and much to muy amusement he turned and said, "This one! Kitties!" while pointing to the pink kitty boots. The salesguy stammered a little and I said to Michael, "If those are the ones you want, you can have them. They're your boots." Kidlet looked thoughtful for a moment, then said, "Nah, froggies," and that was that.

I do so enjoy challenging gender roles in my own little way. I really hope that my son grows up feeling completely unfettered in regards to gender stereotyping. Speaking of which, I saw a very cute movie over the weekend called The Dress Code, which, while not life-altering, is entertaining. Shirley MacLaine irritates me but what else is new. One review on Amazon sums it up by saying, "Happily, the story ends well, with everyone accepting a boy in a dress, the nuns redeeming themselves, and the fat woman throwing away her chocolate cake." Shouldn't all movies end that way?

Anyway, froggie boots. HOW in love is my kid with these boots? He has never had an attachment to anything (except maybe the boob) like he has for these boots. He insisted on wearing them out of the store, his green pants rucked up to the knee making him look like a farmer just returned from mucking something. He wore them home, and wore them all day in the house. The handles are perfect as they allow him to put them on and take them off all by himself, a fact of which he is very proud. He even talks to them and shares his toys with them.

I have a feeling we're going to have a fantastic time splashing in puddles come mud season. I'll have to get a pair for myself.

1/11/06

2006-01-11T22:35:00.000-05:00

The other day we went grocery shopping with the kidlet, which is always an interesting proposition. Lately he's had about a 30 minute window where he behaves, then he starts getting antsy and progressively gets worse. When I say 'worse' I mean he starts getting into things and wanting to get down and run away, etc. It's the running away thing that bothers me the most - I don't want him to think it's a game when I chase him, but at the same time I can't just let him dash off because that little twerp is fast! Any suggestions, parental types? As it is, I try to call him back before he gets too far, then when I pursue him he laughs like a maniac and runs faster, and giggles when I catch him and try to explain why he can't run away.

In any case, he started getting antsy so Michael took him to see the lobsters while I did some speed shopping in their absence. I found them over by the fish counter, looking at some large fish or other (I think it was a tuna?) laid out on a bed of shaved ice. Michael said to little Michael, "Tell Mommy what you just told me." Kidlet looked at me with a pout on his face, matching that of the upturned lip of the fish. "Fishie sad - fishie miss Mommy and Daddy." he said. I looked at his sad face and said, "Yeah, I'll bet he does." He replied, "Hmm," thoughtfully. I actually got a pang in my heart hearing him say that, and seeing the expression on his sweet little face.

Another chapter in the "OMG-Where-Did-My-Kid-Get-THAT-From" department...

We were driving out to see my dad on Sunday and were on a road that runs parallel to some train tracks. Little Michael started saying, "Rail, rail!" and we were saying to him, "What's that? Rain? Mail? Huh?" when it dawned on us that he was referring to the rails of the railroad tracks! I said, "Do you mean the rails the train travels on?" and he pointed over to them, saying, "Rails! Yes!" Michael and I looked at each other with big round eyes..."Did you teach him that?" "No..."

Kidlet is also singing a whole bunch. He especially likes the 'A Pirate Says Arrr' song from The Backyardigans. We sing it at least three or four times a day. He'll chime in at the chorus with the cutest little voice. Something interesting I noticed is that he'll either sing the same note I sing, or he'll sing a note that harmonizes. It's the most bizarre thing, I have no idea if it's intentional but the kid may just have a good ear on him when he gets older.

I transcribed the lyrics to the song real quick-like, you can see the video here:

Hello mateys! I'm Captain Uniqua the pirate!
You can tell I'm a pirate because of my eye patch...and because I say "Arrr!"

If you want to be a pirate get up on your feet
You can't be a pirate if you're sitting in your seat!
Swing your arms tough
And stand kind of low
And make this noise wherever you go -

Arrr arrr arrr -
a pirate -
a pirate -
a pirate says
Arrr!

You sail a pirate ship
You dont drive a car
And they know you're a pirate
When they hear you say "Arrr!"

(Arrr! Arrr! Arrr! Arrr!)

"Arrr" means yes
And "Arrr" means no
And "Arrr" means
"C'mon mates, lets go!"
Say "Arrr" when you're happy
And "Arrr" when you're smelly
And "Arrr" when you're eating
Your pirate toast and jelly!

Arrr arrr arrr -
a pirate -
a pirate -
a pirate says
Arrr!

If you think we're tough
You're right we are
Cause they know you're a pirate
When they hea ryou say "Arrr!"

Let's sail the seas, me buckos!

Arrr!

1/9/06

2006-01-09T22:32:00.000-05:00

Kidlet was so chatty this morning in the car, he had his Snuggle Puppy book and was talking to himself while reading it. He also kept asking me questions about the pictures, which was cute the first five or six times, but after that I was starting to get queasy from turning around to talk to him. (Michael was driving, not me, by the way.) I can finally see why my parents were always telling me to shut up when I was little. I would never tell Michael to shut up, but I was certainly thinking, "Please fall asleep." Talking to him these days isn't just saying "Mmmhmm" any more, you actually have to think and hold a conversation with him or else he gets mad. He totally knows the difference. Cheeky kidlet.

Hugs

2006-01-06T22:31:00.000-05:00

Kidlet was so cute this morning, Michael woke him up while I was in the shower (I woke up late this morning - rather, I woke up with the alarm, fell back asleep, THEN woke up late) and he was in a perfect mood. Ate some breakfast, got his coat and shoes on, let me put him in the car, and sort of dozed the ride to daycare. When I turned onto the street where the daycare is located, he said, "Michael school! Yaaay!" and then "Michael hug Ms. Nadia!" How sweet. I brought him inside, helped him wash his hands, and put his coat away. He gave me a quick hug and kiss and then said, "Bye Mommy!" and waved back at me while walking toward the other kids. What a sweetie.

As an aside, that's another thing I like about this daycare - upon arriving each morning, they request that every child wash their hands. Smart move during this cold season, and so far kidlet hasn't been sick *knock on wood*.

Mommy hat

2006-01-03T22:23:00.000-05:00

I have a funny story from this morning...over the weekend, as I previously mentioned, I made kidlet a hat. I had a bit of the Manos del Uruguay left in that stripey orange/blue and made a very simple 2 x 2 ribbed tube out of it until I was just about out, did a quick decrease and stuck an orange pom pom on top of it out of the remainder of the matching Brown Sheep wool. It came out very cute. I didn't know, however, if it would fit his mighty head. This morning I tried it on him and it wasn't big enough to fit with the edge folded up, looking something like Mike Nesmith from The Monkees. I unfolded it and it fit over his head, and it looked so cute! However, kidlet was not impressed with how it went over his ears and fought me to get it off. "Just a second, let Mommy see!" I said, as we wrestled, and finally I got so frustrated I said, "Fine, you don't have to wear it, sheesh!" and tossed it behind me into the other room. He looked after it for a moment, then back at me. "Michael hat?" he said. "Yes, I made you a hat, but you won't wear it, and Mommy feels sad," I said.

He considered that for a moment, then got down off of the chair and retrieved the hat from behind the couch. "Mommy make Michael hat. Michael wear Mommy hat." I asked, "You want to wear it now?" and he nodded, saying "Mmmhmm!" with a huge grin. I felt a little guilty as I put it on his head and he smiled at me, saying, "Michael wearing Mommy hat!" "Do you actually like it?" I asked, and he said, "Yes!"

I think he was lying just to spare my feelings. The dang kid wore it all the way to daycare, until it started to pop off the top of his head and he cried, "Mommy! Mommy! Michael hat!" as he tried to put it back on. I told him not to worry about it, that I'd help him with it when we got to daycare, and then when we arrived he insisted he put it back on before getting out of the car. He wore it all the way inside until we hung up his coat.

I feel a little bad, like I guilted him into wearing it. He really didn't seem to want it when I first put it on him, and now I wish I hadn't said that not wearing it made me sad. Well, I don't know. If that's the worst thing I ever do to him I think I can go easy on myself.

Naturopath

2005-12-13T21:46:00.000-05:00

Today I met daddy Michael and kidlet Michael for lunch, then we walked over to the doctor's office as kidlet had an appointment. When he saw the naturopath two weeks ago she found that he had the stirrings of an ear infection in one ear, and prescribed olive oil and garlic ear drops. They seem to have done the trick as his ears were perfect today! Cool. And my kid smells like a pizza!

Kidlet has also been complaining the last couple of days that his "belly hurts". We weren't sure if it were the waistband of his pants irritating him, or gas, or what. He's been pooping just fine so it wasn't clear. Today he had diarrhea and the doctor asked if he ate organic yogurt on a regular basis. We said he did, but that he hadn't had any in the past few days. She said that it might be a reaction to that, and to either give him yogurt or get him some acidophilous capsules, in case he was having pain from gas or diarrhea related to low bacterial levels in his intestines. I never thought that eating yogurt for a long time and then not eating any for a few days straight might throw off the body.

After the doctor's I walked kidlet back to daycare, then walked back to work. I'd estimate that I walked about 1-1/2 miles just during my lunch break, and that wasn't so bad except it's 20 degrees outside, there's a stiff wind blowing, and I forgot my poncho so all I'm wearing is a sweatshirt with a tee shirt underneath it. At least I had the presence of mind to bring my hat, gloves, and scarf, or else I really would have been screwed. I also discovered that I can carry a 25-pound kid on one arm for about 2/3 of a block before switching. Eventually I ended up carrying him on my shoulders for the last couple of blocks as my arms were wicked tired. I need a proper winter coat, or maybe I'll dig out one of my super-huge sweaters that I wore in college. Or maybe I'll knit something!

Ha ha ha, like I need another knitting project.

The latest

2005-12-07T20:12:00.000-05:00

On the way home today we asked Michael what he did today. He was quiet for a while and then he said,

"Michael cry."

"Why did you cry?"

"Michael in car."

"You were in the car...and?"

"Katelyn hit Michael head! Michael cry."

"Oh, Michael, she hit you in the head?"

"Yes!"

"And it made you cry?"

"Yes!"

"Poor Michael. I hope you're okay."

"Yes." *pause* "Katelyn KICK Michael HEAD!"

"She kicked you in the head?"

"Yes!"

"That's terrible! Did a teacher say something to her?"

*long pause*

"Michael pie mow." (that's 'time out')

"You had to sit in Time Out?"

"Yes!"

"Why?"

*pause*

*longer pause*

"Michael push Katelyn."

"You pushed Katelyn?"

"Yes."

"Did you push Katelyn and then she kicked you in the head?"

"YES!"

"Well, no wonder you got Time Out! We don't push people, Michael, you could hurt someone!"

"Michael PUSH Katelyn, Katelyn KICK Michael HEAD! Michael cry."

*pause*

"MICHAEL PIE! MOW!"

"I'm sorry you got hurt, Michael, but you can't push people."

"Pushing bad. Michael sorry."

"Did you say sorry to Katelyn?"

"Yes."

"That's good. Please don't push any more."

Tonight he's running around like a little crazy person...I fear it won't be as easy to get him to bed tonight as it has been. They didn't go outside today as it was bitingly cold out and the wind was howling. Walking to the car this afternoon was an experience!

The latest

2005-12-07T20:11:00.000-05:00

This time last year...

2005-12-04T12:02:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I like to look back.

12/02/2004

This morning the kidlet climbed up on the bed and started giving me big sloppy kisses all over my mouth. He was so cute, going "mmmmmmWAH" over and over again or just grinning and pressing his lips to mine. I was laughing and trying not to breathe on him as I hadn't brushed my teeth yet, but he was steadfast and climbed on top of me to stay in my face. The more I laughed, the more he giggled and kept kissing me. It was sweet.

Considering how hard it is to get a kiss from him on a normal day, I consider tanking up for future kiss shortages. I just hope I didn't give him my cold.

A very satisfying thing is that my milk is still going strong. Kidlet will pop off the breast and have some streaked across his face. It amazes me after how damned hard it was in the beginning that I'm only nursing him 4-5 times a day, some of them pretty short, and things are fine. I don't even have to think about special tea or output or pumping or freezer packs or anything. Something to be very happy about.

12/03/2004

Got home around 6:15, baby arrived home with dad soon after. Entertained him while Michael heated up leftover pasta sauce, cooked mushroom tortellini and steamed some veggies. Baby was in a volatile mood--happy one moment, angry the next. I found the only way to keep him happy was to pay strict attention to him even if he was ignoring me. If he started playing or reading a book alone and I went to pick up my crochet or work on a scrapbook page he would run over, whining, and hold his arms out to be picked up. If I sat with him and watched him play, he'd continue doing that contentedly.

So I sat with him and talked to him while he played, and asked him questions about the book he was reading which he would answer in long babbly sentences that made no sense. Once in a while a semblance of a real word would pop up, like "kitty" or "bigid" (Brigid, our dog) or "daa-daaaah!"

After some time he looked up and signed "milk" so I stood up and told him to get the nursing pillow. We settled in on the couch and while he was nursing I sang to him and walked up his body with my fingers to make him laugh. He was wearing a pair of pants that are 18m size so they're pretty big, the waistband had fallen off his butt so I was teasing him saying, "Hey boy! Where are your pants!" Then I pulled them off to make him laugh, and looked up the back of his diaper to see if it was full which made him laugh some more. Discovered that the back of baby's thighs are very ticklish, and blowing air into the back of his diaper is funny. There's really nothing cuter than baby Michael trying to laugh with a mouth full of breast, he does this little squeaky inhale thing and grins like a maniac.

The coolest thing by far is that he understands what I'm saying to him now. I'll say something like, "Michael, is this side out of milk? Why don't you sit up and I'll swap you over," and he'll immediately unlatch, sit up and smack his lips while looking at my other breast. Or I'll say, "I think the milk's all gone, Michael, why don't we get up and see what Daddy's doing?" and he'll sit up and slide off my lap to run over to the door.

It is SO cool! We have comprehension!

We stopped nursing when dinner was ready and baby ate voraciously. I think a growth spurt is in progress. After dinner I took him back in the living room to watch the fish (which he calls "bu-berra", at daycare they have a blue betta named Blueberry in his classroom) and we played on the floor for a while. When it was time to get ready for bed I took his diaper off of him and let him run around naked for a while, until he peed on the rug. Then I got him dressed and popped in nanalan' so he could wind down for a few minutes before bedtime. I settled him onto a pillow on the floor and stretched out beside him.

...and fell asleep on the living room floor.

Michael came in to find baby sitting quietly watching the teevee and me snoozing. He prodded me and told me to go to bed, which I ignored, saying, "I have stuff I have to do..." just as I fell asleep again. He managed to get me up and into bed and I was out like a light within seconds of my head touching the pillow.

I guess I needed the sleep. I'm frustrated that I didn't get anything done last night, but I really was a walking zombie. I'll just have to make up for it tonight when I get home.

This morning I woke up somewhat refreshed...at 11pm baby woke up and I ended up bringing him into our bed, where he nursed on and off all night long. I remember waking up 6-7 times, but it wasn't too bad. At one point I heard a thud and looked over the side of the bed to see Michael sitting on the floor, looking confused. I think he rolled himself off the bed in his sleep. He didn't hurt himself as it's only a 1-1/2 foot drop, but I put him on the inside between us after that.

Today, 2:50am

Time for bed. Goodnight.

wah wah wah

2005-11-30T12:01:00.000-05:00

typing with one hand, my left...kidlet is in my lap on the boobie. hes been extra sensitive lately, bursting into tears at the slightest provocation. i dont know whats up with him.

he let out a shriek a few minutes ago that could have blistered paint. i think i heard the windows rattle. im a terrible mom for not letting him CLIMB ON TOP OF THE PIANO. quick, call CPS.

what kind of a day are you having? heres mine...

i'll admit he's still darn cute even when he's pissed.

strangely enough, shoving the boob in his mouth made him happy instantly.

men. theyre so predictable.

Naturopath visit

2005-11-29T12:01:00.000-05:00

I did everything I had to do today! I went to the lab and tinkled in a cup for my pre-employment drug screen, that was uneventful. They even watched kidlet for me while I collected my specimen, that was nice not having to deter him from touching everything while trying to aim.

Then I went to the daycare and signed about 8,000,000 papers while kidlet played with the other kids. He had a grand time, and didn't have any anxiety at all. He played with some homemade play dough and discovered the huge chalkboard easel in the corner of the room. I really like the daycare, the director, and especially the two teachers in his classroom. One of them, a man, has been there for six years, and the woman has been there for a year and her son is in the same room. He's a cutie. They're both fantastic people and Michael took to them immediately. When it came time to leave he and the other little kidlets hugged and kissed one another (awww) and then he even ran to the two teachers to give them hugs and kisses, too. My little charmer. I think he's going to get along great at this daycare, I'm so happy.

We met daddy Michael and some of his coworkers for lunch, walking up to the Portland Public Market. it was a very easy walk and makes me feel a lot better about the distances we'll have to walk to drop off and pick up. I'm actually the furthest away from the daycare but it's only an additional 3-4 blocks from daddy Michael's location. It'll be good exercise. Kidlet was in a great mood and for the most part behaved himself.

After lunch I drove over to the naturopath's office and parked in the garage to save myself some hassle. I changed Michael's diaper in the back seat as he had been in it for a while that morning, and of course by the time I walked the one block from the garage to the doctor's office he had dropped a load in his diaper. And I, of course, in my infinite wisdom, didn't bring a clean diaper with me, thinking, "I just changed him so he'll be set for at least an hour." Duh. Fortunately the doctor was totally cool about it and we just carried on as usual, ignoring the stench that was my kidlet. He was cute and talkative and curious while we were there, but started to fade partway through as he hadn't had a nap yet. I took him into my lap and nursed him while going over every detail about his eating habits, sleeping habits, temprament, vaccinations, illnesses, you name it. She took extremely detailed notes about everything and it made me feel good to see that she was so interested in knowing everything about him. He fell asleep and she did most of his physical exam while he lay in my lap. When he woke up after about fifteen minutes he was in a great mood and submitted himself to being weighed, measured, poked and prodded.

She proclaimed him healthy and, while small, developmentally sound and proportional for his size. She also said he was really bright and spoke well. She did find a mild ear infection in his left ear which I knew nothing about, and she prescribed a olive oil ear drop containing garlic and mullein that I'm going to look for at the health food store tomorrow. It was so cool to talk to her about alternative medicine instead of just juicing the poor kid up with antibiotics at the drop of a hat. We also talked at length about vaccinations and it helped me gain some perspective on what to do with Michael from here on out, and how to approach the same issue with future children. The thing that made me feel relieved is that if Michael were to be affliected with anything negative due to vaccinations, it would already have happened. I feel like I found all five empty chambers in Russian Roulette, and I don't plan to pull that trigger the sixth time.

I spent about an hour and a half talking to her, and I felt like I had finally found someone who understood where I was coming from. I'm considering going to her for my own checkups, depending on whether or not her services are covered by our health insurance or we can at the very least get medical expense reimbursement. She was able to recommend a different prenatal vitamin that won't be overdosing me on iron like my current one is, and it's only two tablets a day instead of six. Hallelujah! She also recommended a book on vaccines that I plan to check out of the library (since I will now be working mere blocks from the Portland Public Library, as well, yay!).

Big Circle!

2005-11-14T12:02:00.000-05:00

In other-other news, kidlet is cute, as usual. That's not exactly new news. I don't recall if I mentioned this, but one of his favorite things to say lately is "big circle!" We have NO idea what this is referring to. He just bursts out with it once in a while, for instance if he's talking to Grandma on the phone he'll say something like, "Michael eat food. Yeah. Food good, Michael have big sandwich. Uh-huh. Michael BIG CIRCLE!" We've asked him to show us where the big circle is, and he'll point off into the distance or the other room and say, "Big circle right there." He's gone and gotten a toy when we've asked him to show us big circle. He laughs and says "BIG CIRCLE!" We have no flippin' clue WHAT he is talking about.

I Googled "big circle" to see if it could shed some light on our confusion:

Big Circle Gang is one of the major groups of Chinese Organized Crime.
Big Circle Arts and Crafts Co., Ltd., China supplier of polyresin, poly, resin, ceramics,bag,artificial flowers, decoration.
The "Big Circle" (Bridge To The Afterlife) consists of our loved ones in spirit along with their loved ones in the physical world.
Ze Bruno and Big Circle: A brilliant, pulsating high energy with deep grooves CD with an exploration of Brazilian rhythms, instruments and orchestration.
Everybody stand in a big circle and watch to muddy guys have their way with each other!!!!
Big Circle Blues is the kind of crap crime/action movie that gave Hong Kong movies such a bad name.
Strive to be your own "big circle." And help other circles get bigger in the process.
Cathy and her friends in spirit refer to themselves as, “THE BIG CIRCLE.”
Cut a big circle out of construction paper. Have the children use bingo dabbers on the circle shape.

I don't know about you, but I don't feel particularly enlightened.

Stuff and things.

2005-11-04T12:01:00.000-05:00

A cute kidlet thing.

Today I could hear him poking around at the buttons on the television, then suddenly there was an ear-splitting blare of static. Kidlet screamed and came flying out of the living room, wailing. He had turned the volume on the teevee all the way up, then changed the channel to a station that wasn't coming in so it would blat out bursts of noise. I showed him that it was just the television and easily fixed, then rocked him while singing a silly song along the lines of, "Michael, Michael / turned on the tee vee / turned up the volume / way too loud" I sang that while he clung to me like a lemur to a tree. Is that the right word? Lemur? They're a monkey sort of thing, aren't they? I can't Google it because dialup can BMA.

He's been such a good kid considering he hasn't left the house for a week outside of coming to Portland for my job interview. Poor kidlet. His momma sucks at the present time. He's dealing as well as he can. I love him. Even when I try to put him down for a nap for TWO HOURS and he still doesn't go to sleep. A trying day to say the least.

There was something else cute he did today, but now I can't remember it.

I had more to write, but now I can't remember that, either.

Maybe because it's one in the morning.

Monday stuff.

2005-11-02T12:01:00.001-05:00

Kidlet is learning more and more words, strangely a lot of words I don't remember teaching him. He must be hearing them somewhere and retaining them. He also parrots a lot of things that I say and I have to watch my language. Last week he peed on the couch right after we had had a potty attempt, and as I cleaned it up I said, "Ah, fuck!" He was in the other room and I clearly heard his dulcet tones repeating, "Ah, fuck!" So there's that. He also says, "Oh, GOD!" when he drops something or makes a mess...something I didn't even realize I said until I heard him doing it. There was even a "Jesus!" incident. Mommy needs to clean up her language.

He knows the word "kite", for instance, by looking at a picture...I don't remember ever telling him about kites but there it is, he knows it. When we went to the library today (which is in the mall while the building undergoes renovations) we passed a string of those rent-a-strollers and he pointed to them and said, "Baby strollers!" Um, yeah, that's right...and where did you hear that phrase? Weird. Kidlet is getting too smart and I'm starting to get nervous.

Wednesday, or, with DST my kid now gets up at 5am.

2005-11-02T12:01:00.000-05:00

On the way back from Portland today, Michael was singing a song about a bunny rabbit. He had seen the bag of alfalfa in my trunk when I opened it to put his bag in, and it had a photograph of a couple of rabbits on the front. He was saying, "Bunny rabbit - bunny rabbit dance! Bunny rabbit, bunny bunny bunny rabbit - bunny babbit, bunny abbit! Runny bunny bunny brabbit!" and so on. Very cute stuff. He sings all. the. time. now, which I partially attribute to myself, as I'm constantly humming and singing all manner of things. The other night when Katie and her boyfriend Matt were over, Matt started playing my djembe and Michael thumped along on it. Matt was astonished that Michael can keep a beat. Ever since he was really little he's been able to dance and bang things to a beat. I read something somewhere saying that if you bounce infants to music or while singing when they're small, it gives them more of a natural acclimation to rhythm and music. That made me happy, because whenever itty bitty kidlet was fussy I'd put on Clifton Chenier or Paul Simon and dance with him until he fell asleep. Rhythm of the Saints is a kickass album for baby dancing. He's also a big fan of zydeco.

Weighed and measured him at the doctor's the other day...he's 32 inches tall, and still 25 pounds. The kid's been 25 pounds for almost a year now. Whatever affliction he had went away. By the following day he was still getting occasional bug bite looking spots, but they never got any bigger and faded away within a couple of hours. Weirdness. It must have been an allergic reaction, but I may never know to what.

Other kidlet things...he's obsessed with carrots. He picked out a large bunch of whole carrots when we went grocery shopping on Sunday, with the green wispies on them and everything. Insisted on riding with them in his lap in the car cart. We met another dad who had a cooler looking car cart, with the plastic car bit up by the handle instead of protruding out front. He laughed and said to us, "This one is much harder to drive, in case you were wondering." I love the whole secret club kinship parents share. He eats about a carrot a day. He actually opens the fridge and looks for them, when he finds them he says, "Mommy, carrot, please Mommy, carrot!" until I wash one and give it to him. His poops are terrible the day after (especially the day after Hallowe'en - carrot and Oreos) but I'm surprised and pleased that he loves them so much. Carrots and broccoli are two things that he will go out of his way for. Of course, on the other side of the coin he could probably subsist entirely on french fries, pizza, and ice cream if we made it available, so it just goes to show that no matter how healthy you try to feed your kid they still know what tastes good.

I'll just keep shoving the carrots into him at every opportunity.

In other news, kidlet is bent on destruction. Of what? Everything. It doesn't matter. If he gets bored or feels like not enough attention is being paid to him, he goes to town on whatever is available. One of his favorites is pulling the cushions off of the couch and then climbing on the couch to leap onto them. Which wouldn't be a big deal if we didn't have hardwood floors in the living room. Couch cushions slide all too well. Yes. He's also taken to leaping onto people, this afternoon he kept throwing himself on me and he has a very large hard head. And pointy elbows. He laughs like a loon and when I tell him to stop jumping on me he'll sidle up to me, looking at me askance with a big shit-eating grin on his face, then leap at me once he decides to give up the ruse. This is cute approximately two times, or until someone (me) gets hurt, whichever comes first. I don't know what comes over him, but I'm starting to think that next summer we need to either get or build some sort of monkey bars for him out in the yard. I want to make one of those huge rope ladders that's attached at one point on either end, requiring one to balance while climbing or else the whole thing flips over. I think he'd really like that. Everything is "climb ladder" lately. The couch, the entertainment center, the bureau, the chair, our legs, it's "Mommy, Michael climb ladder!" and up he goes. I'm going to get grey hair.

I just got seven rolls of film developed from over the summer, I'll put new pics in the next entry.

Kidlet Hallowe'en

2005-11-01T12:01:00.000-05:00

We had a fun Hallowe'en...initially we had no plans so when daddy Michael got home we tried to think of what to do for kidlet. He had the idea of making him a skeleton, which was easily done in true LARPing fashion by putting him in black sweatpants, a black turtleneck, and using pancake to make his face white. I took some black and smudged it around his eyes and on his nose, which was tough to do on a wiggly toddler. Then I used some drafting tape to make bones, ribs, and a pelvis on his clothes. A totally ghetto Hallowe'en costume, but he looked so cute! Kidlet balked at first when I started smearing pancake makeup on his face, but when I was done and he looked at himself in the mirror he was so pleased. He kept saying, "Michael scary!"

We took him to the neighbors on either side and across the street, some of them remembered us from last year. He got the hang of "Trick or treat" and the the receipt of candy, saying "Thank you!" and then grinning extra cute to get the extra-cute kid candy bonus. He really enjoyed the whole process. We went to Jenn and Leonard's house afterward to visit them and baby Katy, and when we got there Michael went around passing candy from his bucket to Jenn, Leonard, and the baby. It was adorably cute. We visited a few houses on their street, too. That kidlet is a real trooper. He had his first candy that night, starting with a bite of a Twix, a treat bag of mini Oreos in the car and later half a peanut butter cup. He was really excited and I believe we have created a monster. I hope he doesn't become a candy addict. This morning he found his empty bucket (I had stashed the candy away already) and said, "Where candy go?" with this sad look on his face. I explained that the candy was put away and for special occasions, gave him a carrot, and he seemed okay with that. Whew. I know it'll get harder as he gets older but for now I still feel like I can hold down the fort.

10/29/05

2005-10-29T12:01:00.000-04:00

Kidlet has had a weird malady this past week. It started with the fever I mentioned previously, which lasted a couple of days, then the day after he had recovered from that he woke up with a few spots on him that looked like mosquito bites. Within an hour these marks had expanded to the size of a quarter on his cheek to the size of my palm on his leg. I called the pediatrician and made an appointment to come in two hours from then.

By the time I got him to the doctor's office, the mark on his face and arm were completely gone, and the mark on his leg had wrapped around the entire thigh and had angry red edges on it. The doctor looked at it, then called in a colleague to look at it, and after talking to me said that it was either abnormally large hives due to an allergic reaction to something or a result of a viral infection based on the fever he had been running a few days earlier.

I did some searching online but couldn't find anything exactly like kidlet had. At home his initial hives disappeared, only to be replaced with some new bumps shortly thereafter. By the time daddy Michael got home, kidlet had a huge welt on his other cheek, hives the size of golf balls on his arm, and some sizeable ones on the other leg and his ankles. Poor kidlet. By the time he went to bed two hours later, those were gone and new ones had cropped up. They were all on his arms, legs, and face, one on his butt, but none at all on his trunk. Weird.

Up until this point, the hives didn't seem to be bothering kidlet - he would try to scratch them but putting long sleeves and long pants on him was enough to avert his attention. I had picked up some 1% hydrocortizone cream just in case, and I'm glad I did, because once he was in bed he tossed and turned and woke up over and over again. He wouldn't even let me touch him, just screamed and screamed and writhed around and pushed us away. I felt so terrible for him. I was able to get him on the breast and unzip his jammies to see how he was doing, and found some horrible angry red welts all over his left arm, down his legs and a particularly huge one on the back of one leg. I told him I could put cream on him but he wailed and ran away from me whenever I tried. He was so miserable, and it was obvious that he was in pain but didn't know what to do about it. He kept crying, "Mommy! Mommy!" but wouldn't let me pick him up.

Finally I told Michael we'd have to hold kidlet down, which we did, and he shrieked like we were skinning him. We told him over and over that we were going to help him, and finally I was able to get some of the cream on one arm where the hives looked the worst. Immediately he calmed and looked at where I was rubbing it in. I said, "Is that better?" and he nodded. He then lay quietly and let me more or less massage cream into his entire body. Poor kiddo. Once I was done I was able to change his diaper, then nurse him back to sleep. He fell asleep on the breast and I was afraid to move for waking him up.

I still haven't been able to get to sleep "on my own" lately, depending on television or reading to eventually exhaust me until I pass out. Sandwiched between my son and my husband and afraid to move, however, I had no choice but to lie there and wait it out. I think I was awake about an hour before I finally fell asleep.

10/24/05

2005-10-24T12:01:00.000-04:00

Kidlet is sick. Last night he seemed pretty warm and it persisted through today and into the night. His fever is down slightly, at 101.6 down from 102.8 but he's very restless and keeps waking up, crying a little, then going back to sleep.

I hate it when he's sick. He's been otherwise all right, a little sluggish and floppy, but not discontent otherwise. I feel for the little twerp.

Mundane blah blah blah

2005-10-05T12:01:00.000-04:00

Kidlet cracks me up so much lately and alternately makes me want to rip my hair out. He's so smart and willful that it just stuns me. Since we've been spending afternoons of nice weather hanging out on the front porch, he's started gathering some toys and books and heading out there on his own. I'll be in the living room or the kitchen and notice him piling things up next to the door, and I'll ask, "Do you want to sit on the steps?" and he'll say "Yes!" while tugging on the doorknob. It's been wonderful weather lately, sweater and jeans weather, lots of sun and puffy white clouds. We sit out there with our respective cup of coffee/sippy cup of water, some board books, some toys, his kiddie backpack full of his latest treasures, a knitting project, and the portable phone. Today I had a brilliant idea and dug the sidewalk chalk out of the yard sale boxes in the barn, and he had a grand time drawing on the big piece of slate in our front walk.

Speaking of weather, it's just plain weird here. I don't know if it was the dry summer combined with the wet late summer/early autumn, but there are maybe three leaves that have changed color around here. My stepfather stopped in over the weekend to drop off some apples he'd picked and said he was on a fall foliage run but all they got to look at were all the beautiful green trees. Weirdness. It's October and no color yet. Though I did notice one of the big maples across the street had a single branch of color on Friday, and today more of the tree has begun to turn. Maybe in a week or two there will be something to look at. I just hope we don't get a really cold snap and all the leaves fall off, still green or brown. That happened last year and it was a real bummer.

Another thing kidlet has learned is how to check the front doorknob to see if it's locked. He knew how to turn the thumb locks long ago and would inadvertantly lock us out of the house or in the extension. Today I asked him, "Is the door locked - can you check? I don't want to get locked outside" as he had been coming and going through the door. He reached up and tried the doorknob, then went back behind the door to turn the lock to unlock it. Yikes! I joke with Michael that we'll have to get deadbolts installed at the very top of the doors to keep him from escaping once he figures out how to drag a chair over to throw the existing bolts himself.

He's also started a new tactic I like to call "disposing of the evidence." If he has something and I say to him, "Michael, please give that to Mommy, you can't play with that," he'll run away giggling. If I pursue him, he'll stay just out of my reach until I get close enough to grab him, then he'll throw the item in question ahead of him, ideally into something (such as tossing my cell phone behind the couch and then running the other way). The option then becomes retrieving the ilicit item or pursuing the errant child. He's crafty, that one, and laughing like a hyena while I lumber after him doesn't do much for my patience. Spirited? You may say that.

He's not often a very snuggly child since he's on the go so much, but every once in a while he'll come up to me and say, "Hug?" and give me a huge hug and kiss. I love that. I live for that. Today he kept hugging me over and over, saying, "Hug?" and then throwing himself into my arms, stepping back for a moment, then doing it again. It makes me forget about things like using the sidewalk chalk on the freshly painted front steps, or mashing beans into the rug or laying on the cat or hitting the dog with the vaccuum cleaner wand.

Come to think of it, maybe that's why he does it.

Hmm.

Cutie

2005-09-30T12:01:00.000-04:00

Here's my kid, playing with "ball", or Ollo in the Sunny Valley Fair. My little computer nerd.

Speaking of which, I'm going to put some pants on that kid and take him outside to run around before his nap.

Sleep, bagels, reading, Spider poop.

2005-09-14T12:01:00.000-04:00

I've been complaining for a while about the lack of space in our bed with little Michael being the Amazing Barnacle Boy. We had his little toddler bed in there but he wasn't sleeping on it so I wanted to try and get a twin mattress or something to extend the width of our bed. Problem is, we can't really afford to buy one right now so on Monday night Michael brought the double bed downstairs from the guest room and put it next to our queen. It's big, yo. We had to move the dressers around completely and somehow managed to wedge everything back into the room. Feng shui it's not, but now we have acres and acres of bed space. It's nice.

Little Michael still gets right up on us while he sleeps, but I can sense a transition as we've been able to get him to sleep without the boobie lately, and when he does wake up wanting to nurse we can divert him with his water cup and something to eat. I watched him last night inch closer and closer to daddy Michael whenever he'd move away, snuggled into my section of the MegaBed and thought to myself, "Ha, now you know how it feels!" I'm so mean. I think we're all sleeping better, however, and having the room to stretch out is awesome. I've always been very possessive of my sleep and being crowded or woken unexpectedly is a big deal for me. I've made a huge sacrifice for the past two years sleeping all cramped up and miserable, so I'm glad we've finally struck some compromise that, for the moment at least, works.

We've started bringing a bagel into bed with us so he can snack before bed. Maybe not the most solid policy, but the kid only picks at meals so he's literally snacking all day long. If he's not snacking, he's nursing. After a few days of pretty much non-stop nursing a two year old, I was ready to try some options. I feel like though he eats a wide variety of food, he doesn't always eat a lot. Every couple of days he surprises me and eats a huge meal, but it doesn't happen often and I want to make sure he's getting enough to eat so I try to offer him healthy snacks regularly. He's been pulling his "I'm hungry" bedtime-delay trick, waiting until we're all just getting into bed then piteously saying, "Michael hungry," and patting his tummy. The bagel takes care of that, too.

I got him to sleep one night by singing "The Bagel Song", where we both sing "Bagel song, bagel song, bagel song, bagel song," you get the picture. Over and over and he really likes it. Eventually he got sleepier and sleepier and fell asleep holding his bagel in one hand.

I need to figure out how to make bagels at home.

I was also able to get him to go down for his nap yesterday without the boob, which was a major shocker for me. I mean, I know he can do it, but with milk around, he never chose to. I took him for a long walk in the woods beforehand and let him get out all his steam waving sticks and picking up all the acorns in the forest and poking rocks, then I took him home and gave him some lunch (most of which he threw on the floor, the little turd). I changed his diaper, got him nice and comfy, and when he asked for milk I said, "It's time to sleep, lay down and close your eyes." I continued being quiet and gentle, pushing his hands and feet down when he'd wave them around or poke at me to get a reaction, and after a few minutes he turned over, pulled the blanket over himself, and went to sleep. I took a nap, too. It was nice.

Made pancakes for breakfast this morning, kidlet sat on the counter and watched me the whole time. He's better about letting me do things if he can "help", so I let him stir the batter and showed him how the bubbles appear in the top of the pancake while it cooks.

He's been really into books lately, he loves looking at pictures and talking to me about them. He also loves the scorpion -b- gave to him, calls him "Spider" and enjoys putting him into the plastic pet food scoop I gave him, throwing him in the air, and saying, "Spider MAN!" The other day I took a bunch of diapers out of the dryer and he spread them out, then put Spider down on one of them belly-up and said, "Mommy, Spider poop!" Then he proceeded to wipe Spider's butt (or at least the approximation of where it would be) and wrap him up in a clean diaper. Too cute.

Tales of forests and poo.

2005-08-30T00:01:00.000-04:00

Mwa ha haaa, hee hee heeeee...

Kidlet is asleep!

I can't begin to tell you how deliriously happy this makes me. Now here's hoping he stays asleep for a good long time so he doesn't wake up grouchy. It has been exceedingly hard for me to get up in the morning but fortunately the kidlet has been content to loaf around in bed nursing and having me nurse Grover until 8am so I can get a little extra rest. My days generally go in one of two directions - I feel like a slug and I semi-nap on the couch while the kidlet watches Kiki's Delivery Service for the nth time/plays with toys/chases the cats/destroys things. These days are generally worse rather than better so I try to avoid them. The better days are the ones where I haul my sorry ass out of bed and make myself DO something, whether it be playing with the kidlet, cleaning the house, running errands...once I get up and out and wake up completely, we're more active in general and the day goes much more smoothly.

Well, yesterday was a weird combination day, one where I got up, got motivated, cleaned the hell out of everything that was a wreck from the weekend, but then ran out of steam and crashed on the couch while kidlet destroyed things. The rest of the day was all right, but out of joint slightly as I was still feeling blah.

Last night as I was sitting up with insomnia (cruel, cruel world) I decided to take my best shot at getting kidlet to sleep like a normal kidlet and get some exercise at the same time by going on a walk through the woods just before his usual naptime.

I got up and out of bed this morning even though I really didn't want to (I have a hard time getting to sleep, but once I do sleep, I find it impossible to get up again), fed the kidlet breakfast while I washed a load of diapers, got us both cleaned up and dressed, and hit the road, jack. First stop, Dunkin' Donuts for a wheat bagel and iced coffee. Kidlet was happy to help me eat my bagel even though he had just had breakfast, and did his darndest to get a sip of my iced coffee. I picked up a bottle of water ($1.75! Holy crap! Note to self: Do not forget to fill water bottle at home next time.) and we headed out.

We stopped at Marden's and I did find a niiiice chair that's wide enough to seat little Michael and I side by side, it was $389. Still too much to spend on a chair, but it was nice. Nice nice. Sigh. We sat down in it and I felt like a little kid, the arms and back came up so high. Michael looked at me and said, "Book?"

The only real downer was when I put Michael back in the cart and he gave me a distressed look and said, "Michael poop." He sat on one cheek and held his hand under his butt like he was trying to keep from sitting down in it. Poor kidlet. I had to change him in the restroom while he was standing up as there were no changing tables. That sucked. He was incredibly well-mannered throughout, my little trooper.

Determining that there was nothing we needed at Marden's, we headed out and drove around trying to find Thorncrag Bird Sanctuary. The entrance that has room for parking is off a somewhat obscure dead-end road, and I passed it the first time by accident. I noticed kidlet nodding off in the back so I kept saying, "Don't fall asleep! We're almost there!" We got there around 11:15 and we struck off into the woods. We had a really nice time, looking at acorns and trees and bugs and grass and splashing in puddles.

We met an older man and his dog Penny, talked to him for a moment and I pet her soft head and ears. Michael was being shy and looked at the dog with a huge smile on his face but wouldn't say anything or reach out to her. In a way I'm glad, becuase I don't want him to tangle with strange dogs when I'm not around. Just because Brigid is a big wuss and will let him do anything to her, I don't want him to think every dog is like that.

About fifteen minutes later Michael asked to be picked up, so I put him in the sling and tried to strap him across my back. We made it about a hundred yards before he had slipped almost completely out. Whoops. I shifted him to my front and he lay his head on my shoulder while wrapping his arms tightly around my neck. I secured him with the sling to free up my arms and headed back the way we came. My back got a little sore from the awkward way I was carrying him, but I was able to shift him so he was lying diagonally across my abdomen and I was cradling his legs with my left arm. Will definitely need to perfect the back carry sometime as that would be easiest.

We got back to the car, loaded up, and I handed him a baggie of Cheerios for him to snack on since I anticipated he would fall asleep in the car and I wanted him to have at least a little food in him. He did fall asleep and we returned home without incident. As I went to take him out of his carseat he jerked awake, waved his arms and shouted, "Popcorn! Popcorn!" and then fell asleep again as I lay him on my shoulder. Weirdo! :)

Nip this in the bud, bitch!

2005-08-27T12:01:00.000-04:00

Weird. We have been having this massive struggle lately getting kidlet to bed, there was a stretch of three nights where he simply would not go to sleep. We were up until the wee, wee hours with him. Bleargh. Yet tonight I nursed him for a few minutes, he lay down on the bed between Michael and I, and within five minutes was asleep, while I was reading and had the light on. I don't get it. But I'll take whatever I can get!

I just remembered something that happened the other day...we were out with Keith getting dinner in some little podunk town's mall sports bar/restaurant and kidlet was wired. It was past his bedtime and he'd been cooped up in the car a lot that day so it was completely understandable. He kept trying to leave the restaurant to go look at the kiddie car rides in the mall (yee haw!) so we spent a lot of time swapping off to watch him while the other ate. Toward the end of our meal he was extremely antsy and when he's like that, he gets very hyper and out of control. It was obvious that the best thing to do would simply be to leave ASAP and get him home before he melted down. While he was being cute and sweet there were a few other patrons smiling at him and asking us how old he was, etc. When he started misbehaving I was very careful not to give him anything to play off of, meaning I didn't raise my voice or get visibly upset. I've noticed that the more agitated I get, he'll raise his reaction to my level so it escalates very quickly. At home this isn't such a big deal as have the time and space to deal with it, but in public I can't help thinking everyone in the free world is staring at us.

So anyway. I'm holding Michael and looking into his eyes, telling him calmly that we were getting ready to go and to relax for a moment when he grabs double fistfuls of my hair and throws himself backward while I'm holding him around the waist, bending over double. Needless to say that fucking hurt. I restrained myself from blowing my top and told him in a firm voice that pulling hair is not okay and that it hurts Mommy. Michael was there to back me up, picking up kidlet and telling him the same thing, while I quickly gathered our things. "Say you're sorry to Mommy and give her a hug," Michael says to him, lowers the kid down, and he slaps me across the face, nearly knocking off my glasses.

I was so incredibly pissed but I took two deeps breaths while Michael dealt with kidlet, removing him from the restaurant. He left with kidlet first, then Keith followed him, and I brought up the rear. As I passed one couple the woman said to me, "You'd better nip that in the bud."

I stopped for a moment, stunned, and didn't say anything. Then I just looked at her for a long moment, turned and left. By the time I got to the car I was fuming. How dare that woman open her stupid mouth to me? If I had been on the ball I would have said, "Just how would you suggest I 'nip it in the bud,' in your valuted opinion?" Fucking hell. Just because I won't yell at or beat my kid in public to show my displeasure at bad behaviour doesn't mean that I'm going to let him get away with it. I was just so angry with her, why can't people keep their ignorant traps shut.

We do deal with little Michael when he misbehaves, but the way we do it doesn't involve threatening, violence, loss of control, or physical abuse. Around here it's commonplace to see someone smack their kid around or shout abusive things at them, so of course parents like Michael and I are the exception. It pisses me off.

There were two things going on during this incident - we were dealing with the situation by imposing limits and consequences on our child, and leaving the area immediately to do so. He was also tired and wound up and I can't completely blame him for acting out. I know my child, and I know that when he's overly tired he becomes very erratic and will do things deliberately to garner a reaction. The madder I get, the wilder he gets. It's obvious when seeing him that he can't control himself. The best way I've found to deal with him is to remain calm first and foremost, and bring him down slowly so he doesn't continue to rebel just to do it.

But anyway. I really hate it when complete strangers feel the need to say something to me. I am positive that if I had shouted at my son or slapped him back that no one would have said a word.

08/23/05

2005-08-23T12:01:00.000-04:00

Michael is totally playing in the room across the hall with no problems or stress. I think the key is that he wanted the door closed - I never imagined! When the doors are open he's up my ass constantly, this time he went in, said "Bye Mommy!", closed the door, and now I hear happy busy noises on the other side. Though I'll admit I snuck over and opened it a crack so I can push it open to peep at him every few minutes.

A couple of notables lately...kidlet has started pretending sans props. Up until now, he's always used something to represent something else, but on Sunday he was in one of those little kiddie rides that they have at the mall - you know the ones, put in a quarter (well, now 0.75) and it goes back and forth). Fortunately for us he doesn't care if it's turned on or not, is perfectly content to play in them with no money required. He's a cheap date. One of the rides had a fake keypad printed on the dashboard and he turned to me to ask, "Mommy, coffee?" I said, "Yes, thank you," and he reached out, pretended to punch something in on the keypad, then turned to me with his hands cupped as if holding two cups of coffee. I accepted one and made a sipping noise, and said, "The other one's for you." He bent his head to his hand and went, "ssssssip!" and grinned at me. That was the first time he's ever made that kind of connection, it was cool.

Michael is sitting in my lap right now watching me type. He's putting his hands on the desk next to my kEYboarD AND wiggling his fingers like he's typing. Hehe, and hitting the Caps Lock key as you can see.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot - the other night when I was sewing he was completely content to sit on one knee while I operated the sewing machine. When I'd finish a seam and go to pin the next, he'd say, "Again, again!" I love that he has the patience to sit and watch some things now...I totally plan to teach him to sew the moment he can reach the pedal.

Hmm...someone here also smells like a dookie, and it's not me. Gotta go.

*back*

Moral of story - two yogurts in one 24-hour period = disaster.

Cheese, Mommy, cheese!

2005-08-17T12:01:00.000-04:00

The beast has arisen...I could hear him tossing and turning a bit on the monitor (I'm upstairs) and then some very suspicious quiet. Those with kids know that quiet - it's just as quiet as any other quiet, but it's huge and loud somehow because you just know they're up to something. I started down the staits and heard him call, "Mom-my?" in a sleepy voice. I knocked on the door at the bottom of the stairs that leads to our bedroom and heard a little "Oh!" and when I opened it he shuffled out with his hair all sleep-rumpled and little bags under his eyes. He looked up at me and said, "Michael nap, yaaay!" Kid just kills me.

I called Joy and let him talk to her for a minute to share the cuteness. Usually he won't let me do anything on the computer but I've managed to oocupy him with a pad of post-it notes that he completely destroyed - no big loss as they're from my former company and I was going to throw them out anyway. Then he made a game out of picking up one of my computer speakers and using it as a camera, holding it up to his eye, saying, "Mommy, cheese!" and then making a snick-snick sound with his tongue to mimic a camera. Now he's busily carryng around his little plastic chair and the plastic footstool that I use under my desk. I have a feeling my time here will soon come to an end.

Kidlet is restless, I'm going to go. I think I'll take him out today, maybe to Bailey Island or something. Catch you crazy cats on the flip side...

Recently heard on the monitor

2005-08-13T12:01:00.000-04:00

*squeek squeek thump*

"Aaaahhh!"

"Oh...uh-oh! Aww! Did you fall? Did you fall off your truck?"

"Uh-huh."

"Oh! Ha ha! Look out! I'm going to step on your butt. I'm stepping on your butt!"

"Eh ha ha haa!"

Foot milk

2005-08-09T12:01:00.000-04:00

The inlaws just left and I have a sizeable laundry list of things to do today, as well as a sizeable pile of laundry. I just peeked in the other room to find Michael singing to himself while stacking blocks on a wooden car. This morning I plan to go to the health food store to pick up coconut oil for soapmaking.

I got an email from a friend, one of those forward things...they usually annoy me, but this one made me smile. It said, "Hello. I am the Friggin' Happiness Fairy. I've sprinkled happy dust on you. So smile dammit. This shit is expensive!"

Listening to Michael talking to himself while he plays is one of my new favorite things.

Some more new things...kidlet is now obsessed with his feet nursing. He'll be on one boob and say, "Mommy...foot milk," and put his foot under my shirt on my breast. The nursing calisthenics never cease to surprise me. He is as always extremely cute and so damned smart. He scares me with how smart he is.

Example...our friend Mike J. came to visit, so with my FIL in the house, that's four Michaels in one place at one time. He had seen little Michael about a year ago, but kidlet didn't seem to really recognize him. I said, "Say hello to Mike, can you say Mike?" but kidlet was being shy. Mike went into the bathroom and Michael said to me, "Where he go?" I replied, "Mike went to the potty," and little Michael walked into the extension where daddy Michael and Keith were sitting and stated, "Other Mike go potty." Apparently he had heard his father refer to Mike J. as "the other Mike." I definitely know that he's paying attention to every solitary word that I say.

He just came in and asked, "Mommy, what you doing?" so I should go. Tschus.

Monkey boy

2005-07-19T12:12:00.000-04:00

Kidlet has been changing again, becoming more and more a little boy. I realize I say that a lot, but he really is - I can't believe just how much and how quickly he changes as I am constantly noticing it.

This weekend he discovered a new way to make Mommy's heart stop in her chest. We were at daddy Michael's company outing and little Michael was hanging out with a coworker's 3-year-old son, Owen. They were so cute together, tooling around like a little boy pack. They were playing on a jungle gym thing that had a couple of slides, and Owen grabbed onto a bar above the slide, kicked his legs, and swung out over the drop. Michael watched him for a moment, then jumeped up, grabbed the bar beside him, and did the same thing! I gasped and readied myself to catch him but he was having a grand time. Since that point Michael will grab onto anything that's off the ground and try to swing on it. My little monkey boy.

He's also become very good at problem-solving, even we have been surprised on occasion at what he comes up with. Sunday night after swimming we went to the frozen custard place and Michael and Thomi immediately noticed the water fountain, which was nothing more than a hose attached to a spout about four feet off the ground. Michael wanted more than anything to reach that water, so he stacked up two bricks at the foot of the hose and stood on them, but still couldn't reach. Then he called Thomi over (amusingly, the same way he calls the dog, patting his leg and shouting, "Omie, c'mere! 'Ere!") and coaxed her up onto the bricks. She could almost reach, but didn't really care to reach the water. Then Michael picked up some pebbles and put them on the bricks and tried to stand on those to get more height. Finding them too wobbly, he added a few more stones and tried again. Watching him go through this process was fascinating. We finally had to stop him when he started climbing on the railing of the nearby pavilion to gain higher ground and, I'm guessing, make a leap for it like a 25-pound flying squirrel.

Heide mentioned something to me about how she used to believe that gender roles were primarily determined by environment, but that now she didn't feel that way. I tend to agree. We don't treat Michael "like a boy", per se, in that we don't push stereotypes on him and expose him to a wide array of things that are associated with both the male and female gender. However, he is totally a boy, so whatever drips and drabs of testosterone are coursing through his body are doing their job.

Personally I can't wait until he's coordinated enough to teach him spinngng and knitting and making things with his hands. He loves playing with crayons and markers (when he's not trying to eat them) and has begun drawing balls. Before he'd just make scribbles and say, "Mommy," "Daddy," "Michael," "Brigid," etc., but now he'll say "Ball" and draw a ball. Granted a ball isn't all that hard to draw, but it's neat to see his connection from the word to what he puts on paper. He also likes to emulate what we draw when we color with him - daddy Michael will draw stars slowly so kidlet can see what he's doing, and then kidlet will draw small angular shapes in the same style. It's obvious he hasn't mastered the hand-eye coordination to make the lines go in the right directions, but the intent is there. It's so cool.

Last night was another very pleasant discovery. I picked him up from daycare and were on our way home when I accidentally hit the volume button on my cell phone, producing an abbreviated ring (my ringtone is the theme to the Smurfs, incidentally). Michael immediately said, "Phone! Mommy get it!" I laughed, then decided to play with the ringtones on my cell phone to see what he'd say to each one. When I got to Vivaldi's Spring, he perked right up and nodded his head in time with a big smile on his face. The excerpt goes through the first theme, a repeat, and then slows down to complete at the end. When the music started to slow in tempo, Michael raised his hands in the air and waved them in time, then held them out, palms up, as the last sustained note played. I couldn't believe what I was seeing! I don't think I've ever conducted for him before, if I did at all it was when he was a very young infant. (I was a music performance major, just to clarify.) He spontaneously mirrored the last four beats of the piece, complete with a change in tempo and a hold at the end! While I'm certainly not saying I've got a prodigy on my hands, I was very surprised and pleased. It looked to me like he was just doing what felt natural to him.

Later that night we went out to see Jenn and Leonard and on the way home he was a little fussy so I turned on the radio and found a classical station. My #1 favorite piece of music, Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain was playing and I watched Michael to see his reaction. He really seemed to enjoy it! I asked him "Do you like this music?" and he shook his head yes. When we got home I found my New York Philharmonic disc of Pictures at an Exhibition and Night on Bald Mountain and put it in the CD player in the darkened living room. Michael sat quite thoughtfully through the Promenade, holding a bottle of water, and when it ended, he looked up and me and said, "Again?"

This whole experience affected me greatly...I don't listen to many of my classical discs these days as I haven't played in over a decade and it hurts too much to remind me of the talent I once had (and, I'll admit at the risk of sounding too egotistical, was a significant amount of talent that I feel I wasted utterly). However, sitting with him listening to these two pieces which never fail to bring tears to my eyes even after years of avoidance I told myself that perhaps I should make the time to polish and clean my euphonium, then commit myself to a scant one hour a week to play. Something instead of nothing. We'll see. In the meantime, it made my heart swell that my son likes classical music. It seems that he has inherited many of the interests of both Michael and myself. I don't know where he'll go with them as he grows, but I want to make sure that he is always exposed to these things and has the opportunity to explore them if he wishes.

He nursed for a while listening to Pictures at an Exhibition and fell asleep around The Hut on Hen's Legs (Baba Yaga). I shifted him a little and said, "Are you ready for bed?" to which he unlatched and whispered, "All done," without even opening his eyes. I was able to bring him to bed and lay him down without issue.

Poo!

2005-07-13T11:45:00.000-04:00

There was a momentous occasion this past weekend, though you may want to skip this unless you're a parent because it won't seem very important to you...

...Michael pooped on the potty!

For the past couple of months he's been showing interest in the potty, so every time he's mentioned it we bring him over and show him how to use it. Soon he started asking to go, and for a long time he would sit there and maybe fart but not do much else. A couple of weeks ago he started consistently asking to use the potty and then peeing in it, one thing that was especially funny was that he would stand up to go pee after seeing his dad do it that way. He would take the removable cup out of the seat, hold it under his penis, and pee into it. Then he would quite proudly show whichever parent was attending, and bring the cup to the other parent as well as any assorted house guests.

We always followed up by showing him where to dump the potty cup, let him flush the toilet, then get up on the stepstool to wash his hands. We also did a potty dance, to the tune of our very own potty song. You know the music that plays during a conga line? One day Michael the Elder started singing, "Poop goes in the pot-TY! Poop goes in the pot-TY!" and since then it's stuck (no pun intended). Fortunately it works for "pee", too. Kidlet loves to sing it and will sing with us.

Imagine if you will two grown people dancing wildly around one two year old sitting on a potty with his pants around his ankles, all three singing, "Poop goes in the pot-TY!"

So, yeah. Pee was a big deal, one for fanfare and singing and lots of hugs and kisses. Pooping was much more elusive. I started leaving him diaperless to test his ability to tell when he had to go, and we only had one accident with poop on the floor. Usually he would say "Poop" or "Potty" only to fart, then we'd put a diaper on him and he'd poop soon after, so I believe that the sensation of needing to pass gas was what he was mistaking for actually having to poop.

On Sunday he ate his lunch (and quite a bit, too), and about ten minutes later started saying, "Potty, potty...poop, potty." As they always say 'what comes in must come out' and he often asks to go shortly after eating (to make room, I assume). I took him to the bathroom, sat him down and handed him a book. He didn't seem to be doing anything extreme so I waited a couple of minutes and made small talk with him. Suddenly his face lit up and he yelled, "I deeeeed it!" "You did it? Did what?" I asked, and he stood up to look into the potty. There was a substantial deposit at the bank! I yelled and clapped and called for daddy, and then we all did the potty dance jubilantly. I think I called just about everyone I knew to let them know.

This is how you know you are truly a parent, when you're calling all your friends and family to let them know your kid just took a dump.

My stepfather said to me, "I didn't know you were training him already!" to which I was happy to reply, "We aren't training him at all, we just put the potty out there and showed him how to use it, and he's been doing the rest at his own speed." It's nice to get that little bit of justification for our "bizarre" ways.

Daredevil baby!

2005-07-07T12:01:00.000-04:00

Kidlet is in love with those shopping carts that have a big car sticking out of the front of them. BK (Before Kidlet) I would see people pushing those monstrosities around and think, "Oh man, what a TOOL, just look at that asshole," but now that I'm the parent of my own squirmy moody toddler I love the damned things. He gets in and makes like Mario Andretti while I push the cart around. It has a smaller basket which is a good thing as we buy less. It is woefully difficult to steer and I ran the front of it into many displays and caught the edges of many shelves. Not the safest thing ever, I'm thankful kidlet was securely buckled in so I didn't inadvertantly bash in his skull. "Oops, sorry, Mommy is a terrible driver," I'd tell him.

The only problem is the first time we tried to extract him from the CartCar he threw a fit. Full-blown, kicking, shrieking (that's his new thing, crying and shrieking), wailing, red-faced, reaching out his arms pitifully while screaming, "Car! Car! Caaaaaaarrr!" and we hauled him away looking like a family starring on COPS.

Last night, however, the separation was thankfully easier. I asked him to say goodbye to the car as it was going to sleep. He was sad for 5.5 seconds and then looked at me hopefully, saying, "Daddy?"

That's his other big thing, too. Kidlet LOVES his Daddy. Freaks out when he's not around, runs to the window to watch him taking out the garbage or sanding the steps. Wails like his limbs are being removed with pincers when he goes to the bathroom. In a way I'm thankful, as it gives me more of a rest. I also know that his allegiances pass and soon it'll be back to me.

Though he did dive at me this morning from his stool in front of the sink, as I was foolish enough to stand in front of him braless. He leaped like a flying squirrel, arms outstretched, while grabbing my breast to latch on. Um, yeah. That so didn't work. I had a moment of "Gah! No! Aiee!", trying to keep him from falling on the floor while not letting him tear my nipple off. He had a huge grin on his face and said, "MILLLLLL!" just before he launched himself.

We had one of our first of many talks about respecting other peoples' bodies and how just because Mommy's breasts were there that she was ready to nurse.

A very trying night.

2005-06-30T12:01:00.000-04:00

This muscle in my left knee has been twitching for two or three days, now. It's reeeeeally starting to bug me.

Ugh, last night was terrible. Definitely one of those nights where I start to question my parenting ability, and treading the fine line between what is supposed to be the 'right' thing to do and what my gut tells me.

Michael was very hyper all night, and very moody. He's still struggling wtih those FOUR eyeteeth coming in, so I can understand what's ailing him, but it doesn't make it any easier. He did not want to go to bed and wanted to nurse every twenty minutes. Normally this wouldn't be a problem except he was being very flighty about it...he'd be playing and want to get into something he knew he shouldn't, we would remove him, he'd get upset, and immediately want to nurse. I felt like he was doing it more because he didn't know what else to do at the time or wanted the positive attention and instant gratification. I couldn't even watch teevee or read, either, as he would turn to watch the television (though not enough that I could put him down, oh no) or he'd kick the book I was trying to read and there's only so far away I can hold it before my arm gives out.

I just get so frustrated because I want to give him the security and sustenance of nursing whenever he needs or wants it, but lately I feel like he's just doing it because he's bored. If I try to put him off or refuse he flips. out. His tantrums nowadays are sudden and extremely loud. He's taken to screeching, a sort of wailing cry that reaches a fever pitch in seconds and could shatter glass. Not only does it pierce my eardrums, it makes me feel terrible and very, very angry all at the same time. Even worse is that I know he's crying like this not because he's hurt or upset, but because he's mad and wants his way. I'm not altogether certain how to handle it.

He'll be screaming and crying and sobbing, "Milk! Milk!" and I'll say, "Do you want milk, Michael?" He'll answer, "Yes," and I'll say, "Then you need to calm down, I can't understand what you're saying when you're crying like that. If you can stop crying and ask nicely I will give you milk." He IMMEDIATELY stops crying, sniffles a couple of times, and says, "Milk please?" It's really amazing just how much he understands. I feel like I might be giving in to his demands, but then again making it a requirement for him to calm down and using his words is hopefully getting the point across that I won't cave just because he's screaming. But I really don't know! How else should I handle it?

So I pretty much never know. Then I worry that any time he freaks out in public that it's a direct result of my not doing something the 'right' way and I've taught him to pitch a fit when he wants something or gets mad. Am I? Am I not? Beats the friggin hell out of me.

Last night was pretty bad. He was hyper as I mentioned, but then it got to be around 8:30 so I said, "It's time for bed, Michael," and he of course started crying and wailing, "Milk, milk." I asked him to calm down and ask nicely, which he did, then we went into the bedroom and he nursed sleepily until he was almost out. Then I said, "Let go, Michael, it's time for you to go to sleep." He shook his head no, and woke himself up enough to keep a hold on my breast. This went back and forth for a few minutes, and I felt like I was sending the message that I could ask him to do something and all he had to do was refuse and I wouldn't do anything about it. It felt like a total power struggle.

I decided to try a different tactic and said, "Okay Michael, one more minute and then Mommy needs to get up, so you'll be all done nursing and you'll go to sleep." Headshake no, no. I nursed him for another minute then said, "Time to sleep, Michael, let go." Mind you, he was >< this close to being asleep, but when I tried to get up he shook himself awake and grabbed at me. I tried to tell him that it was nighttime and time to sleep, but he screwed up his face and immediately started shrieking. So now I felt torn...was I a bad mom for not giving him the comfort he obviously wanted, or did I need to be firm and set limits? Fuck.

He has been SO clingy lately, to the point of being obnoxious, and it's making me want to run away with my arms covering my chest. Literally every time he sees me he wants to nurse. Mornings are the worst, if he sees me in my bra or just getting out of the shower he will run over and try to pull my bra or towel off of me. I keep trying to impress upon him that it's mommy's body and he needs to respect my space, but he's not having any of that. It gets to me after a while because I want him to respect MY body, too, it's not just for him all the time. Seriously, when he comes home with daddy Michael, I'll be in the middle of cooking dinner and he'll immediately walk up to me and ask to nurse.

Then of course there's that voice in my head, saying, "You should never have nursed him for so long, now you'll never get him out of your bed and you never would have had these problems if you had put him in his own bed earlier yadda yadda yadda." Strangely the voice sounds like my mother. The voice makes me doubt myself and feel stupid, especially when it's the middle of the night and I'm sitting in bed with a toddler throwing a tantrum.

I decided that once I had told him he had to go to sleep that I had to stick to it, so I held him and told him in a calm, even voice that it was dark outside and time to sleep, etc. I'll paraphrase by saying the next hour was total hell. He was screaming for daddy, screaming to play, clawing at me for milk, squirming to get away and shrieking and wailing. I felt like complete and utter shit. As every minute went by I battled with the feeling that I should just give him the boob so he would calm down and fall asleep, but then again if I did that would we set the precedent to go through this every night?

I kept talking to him and stroking his hair and calming him while he raged, but whenever he would throw himself down and thrash to get away from me I would grit my teeth hard enough to break them. I breathed through my nose slowly and evenly to keep from blowing my top, which I direly wanted to do. Inside my head I was screaming and punching the wall and raging, myself. It was everything I could do not to start yelling and leaving the room.

Eventually Michael came into the room and the two of us continued to try and reason with little Michael, but it didn't seem to be working. He was definitely getting tired, though...slowing down and yawning but then ramping himself back up for another fit. At one point I touched his gums and he screeched, so I gave him a couple of Hyland's teething tablets in the hopes it would help the pain and calm him down.

We ended up both sitting on the bed, watching him wander around the room, wailing. For the most part we left him alone, but now and then we would say something to him so he didn't think he was alone. He was utterly inconsolable, however. The times I tried to offer him a hug or touch him he would scream "NO!" and push me away roughly.

I think it took about an hour and a half for him to finally wind down so much that he physically couldn't stay awake. At one point he angrily pulled all the blankets off of the bed, then lay down on them and fell asleep instantly. I watched him for a moment, sniffling in his sleep, sighed and considered my now completely blown apart evening. I didn't get a goddamn thing done that I needed to, I was tired and angry and my head hurt. Now the kid was sleeping but what was the ultimate message we sent to him? Were we just setting the stage for future bad behaviour, or did we do the right thing to get the message across to him? No idea.

All I do know is that I fucking hate nights like this. It's so tempting to either give in and nurse him to sleep after he's thrown a fit for an hour, or to close the door and go sit in the backyard and try not to think about it. I haven't done that yet, but it's definitely crossed my mind. I hate that I get so angry at my own son, especially considering he's so young and still has so many needs. I don't want to overlook a true need due to being annoyed.

This morning in the shower I was thinking that maybe we need to work harder on establishing a routine. At daycare he walks over to his mat, lays down, and goes to sleep when it's naptime. No struggles, no wailing, nothing. He KNOWS how to go to sleep and he KNOWS when it's time to do it, just when he's with us I think he feels he can get away with a lot more. The thing is, short of sticking him in a crib what more can we do if he wants to walk around and try to get away?

I said to Michael the elder that I'd like to try bringing kidlet into the bedroom around 8pm, and then not leaving the bedroom until he goes to sleep. He can play with toys in there, one of us can read or fold laundry or whatever, but the message is that it's time for bed and we'll stay there until morning. We've already got the whole dinner-play-bath routine going pretty regularly, so I'm hoping against hope that this modification will be enough to help him come down and prepare himself to go to sleep.

If this doesn't work, I'm not sure what to do. I'm thinking padded room next...but for me, not for him. So there you go, I'll admit it any day of the week - I am not the perfect parent, in fact sometimes I think I'm a pretty shitty parent.

Pidur tad.

2005-06-24T12:02:00.000-04:00

I'm wondering what would be considered cruel and what would be considered rational...I mean, I can tell when he's sincerely upset and needs something from me, and I can also tell when he's angry and projecting it to get his way, too. The way I act definitely hinges on the way he is acting. I was thinking about the staying in the bedroom idea and I like it, I hope it works, but if he tries pawing me instead of playing or going to sleep I'm not sure what to do. I could always put the gate up and sit on the other side of it, so I can talk to him and he can see me but he can't climb all over me. Is that cruel? I don't *think* so, but then again I never know.

Something we have tried is having daddy Michael put kidlet to bed, that way he knows there's no milk and no stalling. It doesn't often work though. I forgot to mention that in the case of last night, dad DID try to put kidlet to bed first. I could only listen to about three minutes of screeching before I intervened, and swapped off to try nursing. It didn't work very well. I don't want to completely avoid kidlet, but I don't want him thinking that flipping out will eventually produce me, either.

And I have to get this off my chest - he bit a little girl at daycare on Tuesday. I feel awful about it. This is the first time I've gotten an incident report because he did something...they've just moved all the older kids out of his room so he and another boy who is a week older are the two oldest now, so I can see some power struggles forthcoming. Anyway, this concerns me as I do NOT want my kid to be a biter. He's bitten us a few times and we always tell him that it hurts and that it's not what you do when you're upset, you use your words, and he always pats us and says he's sorry and seems sincerely sorry about it.

Sometimes when he gets wound up, though, he'll start saying, "Bite? Bite?" and try to get US to bite HIM...I think he's hoping we will so that he can bite us back? It's hard to tell but he acts like it's funny. Hrm. When I was clipping his nails the other day I must have gotten too close as he said, "Oooo, bite." Eesh. I hope he doesn't think I'm biting him!

Rather than leave my entries at "my kid is a monster and I'm so tired, rarrgh!" I think I'll talk about some of the GOOD things he does.

ChinaBaby mentioned the car - I've taught Michael to do this, too. Whenever I put him down next to the car I tell him to put his hands on the side of it and not to let go. He picked this up immediately and is very good about it. He's also pretty good about holding our hands when walking through a parking lot, we've told him all about the cars and how they can be dangerous and how he needs to be with an adult at all times when around cars, etc. Once in a while he wants to yank his hand free and walk alone, but if he does that we say that he's still too little to walk alone in a parking lot and we'll pick him up instead. He either submits to being picked up or takes our hand again. That's all good, I can tell the message has gotten through to him.

He's also got the whole "please" and "thank you" thing down, which makes me happy. If he's being fussy or insistent all I have to say is "Ask nicely," and he'll say "Please!" He also says thank you when given something, it really charms waitresses.

Sometimes he is very generous and great about sharing. Not always. But when he is, he is so sweet - he'll walk up to you and offer you something, usually saying, "Thank you!" when he does it. This is funny because I think he thinks it's what you're supposed to say, because when we were teaching him to say "thank you" we would say, "Here it is, thank you!" to prompt him to say it back. Heh.

He is definitely getting to be more emotive and empathic. One of his favorite books is Miss Spider's Tea Party and it's about a spider who keeps inviting bugs to come to tea, but they're all afraid of her. It has a happy ending, but I won't give it away! :) Anyway, one of the illustrations is a full-page closeup of Miss Spider's face, with tears running from her eyes and a downturned mouth. One day Michael was sitting in the rocking chair turning the pages of this book, and when he came to this picture he said, "Spider sad," in a sorrowful voice and looked up at me with a look that perfectly mimiced the picture. Now whenever we read this book together he stops on that page, points and says, "Spider sad, hmmmm..." in a sad voice, pouts, and even sniffs a little. The next page she's happy and he says, "Spider happy!" and grins. Very cool stuff.

Actually, when he says it, it sounds more like "Pidur tad." It's cute.

Overall he is really a great kid. I just wish we could get this sleep thing figured out so it's not such a struggle. I know rationally that this won't go on forever, but it's hard when I'm so tired and feeling pressed for time so often.

Consider a career change?

2005-06-15T14:26:00.000-04:00

I had a nice moment this morning while dropping Michael off at daycare. One of the other girls there is named Bria and her mom was on her way out and Bria was freaking out. She does this fairly often. She's very attached to Emily, one of the daycare staff, but for some reason Emily isn't in today so Bria was heartbroken. The fill-in girl (who is very nice) wasn't having any luck calming Bria down, so I set Michael down and said, "Why don't you give your friend a hug? She's very sad because she misses her mommy." Michael didn't hug her but did stand next to her, trying to talk to her.

After I got his things put away I knelt down beside her and told her that her mommy and daddy were working, but that they were thinking about her all day long and loved her, and soon they would come get her again so not to worry. She calmed a bit, then stood up and ran to me, giving me a big hug. It was so sweet. Of course Michael got jealous and tried to muscle in on the action, heh.

Bria ran over to the book basket and grabbed a book and brought it back to me. The fill-in asked Bria if she wanted her to read a book and Bria said, "No!" and held it out to me. I sat down on the floor (where Michael immediately commandeered my lap) and snugged her close to my side, then read the book to both of them. At first she was still gulping little sobs though she wasn't crying any more, and by the time the book was done she was happy again. She started to get a little upset when I explained that I couldn't read the book again, that I had to go, and as I stood up Michael started getting upset.

I managed to talk to both of them and explain that they had the whole day to play together, and gave Michael to Sheila, asking him to go to the window so I could wave to him. I went outside and snuck up next to the window, where I could hear Michael saying, "Mommy! Mommy! Where'd she go?" I peeked around the edge and both he and Bria spotted me and started laughing so hard! I played peek-a-boo a couple of times, then told him I had to go. He wanted to kiss me through the screen but I said it was yucky so to just blow me a kiss, which he did, and Bria did too. As I was walking away he shouted, "I love you Mommy!" and Bria said, "Bye Mommy!" It was all very sweet.

I do think that I am in the complete wrong profession...I wonder a lot if I should be doing something in social services or working with children and mothers. It was also sweet that the daycare staff thanked me for my help...it was a nice way to start my day.

Baths and sleeping

2005-06-02T11:50:00.000-04:00

When we got home I ran a bath for us as kidlet had about a pound of sand in his hair, and we actually had to take two baths as the first one got so full of dirt that there was no way to rinse without putting most of it back on his head. We had a really nice time, though, splashing around in the water and being in it with him he had an all-access pass to milk. The second bath I ran hot and put a little chunk of a LUSH Karma bubble bar in. We played with the bubbles - kidlet loves it when you hold bubbles on your hands and blow them off - and soaked a bit, then got out. Michael helped me get him dressed in a night diaper and jammies, then I tried to nurse him to sleep but he was too hyper. I found myself starting to nod off, though, and it was after 9 o'clock so I told Michael that I thought I'd take kidlet to bed. He said that was a good idea.

I tucked the two of us into bed and kidlet nursed for a while, then I said to him, "Mommy and mommy's breasts are going to sleep now, why don't you go to sleep too?" and he unlatched, fidgeted for a moment, then scooted over to his own bed and lay down. I put a blanket over him and asked him if he wanted me to rub his back, to which he shook his head yes. I rubbed his back while he settled in and it took a little while, finally I was so tired I just said, "Good night" and rolled over, and I assume he did too because I wasn't disturbed until the next morning around 5am when he crawled into our bed looking for milk.

One of the cute things he does now if I'm stroking his hair or rubbing his back and then stop, he'll grab my hand in his own and put it back on his back or his head so I'll keep going. It's very sweet.

It's quite amazing just how much Michael does understand, and the sleeping thing is getting better. He has such a hard time settling himself if he's alone in the room, and to a point I don't blame him. If he's already asleep in my lap I can lay him down, but I still can't say, "Okay time for bed, go to sleep" and leave him to fall asleep on his own in the dark. I figure it will come eventually...last night was a perfect display of how he knows when it's time to sleep, he knows how to go to sleep, he just doesn't like to do it without someone at least in the room with him. I can understand that, I'm the same way and I'm 30.

Little person replaces baby...news at 11.

2005-05-27T13:31:00.000-04:00

The kidlet has made a sudden jump in speech and comprehension lately, over the past week or two. It's scary! He's started asking us questions and participating in conversations with us, and it reminds me that with every passing day he moves further and further away from the sweet baby he used to be and closer to the independent little man he is fast becoming. It's amazing and terrifying!

When we're in the car he likes to play with my ID badge for work. He looks at the picture and says, "Mummy" and kisses it, it's so sweet! Yesterday I decided to teach him the next Big Important Thing in my book, our names. Now that he can talk pretty well and knows how to repeat what we say, I want him to know what our names are in case he ever gets lost. I've heard too many stories about lost children being brought to the authorities and being asked, "What is your mother's name?" and they respond, "Mommy!" So I told him my full name and had him repeat it back to me a few times, and told him his father's name (which should be easy because their names are the same - I just hope someone believes him!) and had him repeat that, too. Every day I plan to ask him a couple of times and I'm sure in no time he'll have it.

Another really cool thing is he uses a lot of inflection and emotion in his voice, he doesn't just parrot things that he's heard. He is so adorable...he'll be looking for one of us and say, "Mummieeeee....Daddieeeee...", or if he's having us on he'll say "MUM-meee..." and "DAH-deee..." in this funny tone, similar to the one we'll use if he's into something he knows he's not supposed to be into and we say, "MI-chael..."

He calls my mom and MIL Me-ma and the granddads Um-pah or Pe-paw. Wicked cute. My MIL is so touched to have a nickname, she likes it when I call her Mominlaw because I just feel weird calling her Camilla. Michael's dad, however, I have no problem calling Mike. Funny, that.

This morning we were on our way to daycare and he started his recent favorite habit of sticking his finger up his nose. Lovely. I said, "Michael, get your finger out of your nose, that's yucky!" and he raised his hand, saying, "Ish-ew." I'm proud that I've taught him to ask for a tissue when he has a stubborn booger...now just to get him to ask FIRST. I handed him a paper napkin from the glovebox and he rubbed his nose a little, then started tearing it into little pieces and stuffing them under his legs. Then he raised his hands and said, "All gone!" "No, it's not," I replied, "you ripped it up into little pieces and stuffed them into your carseat - now Mommy is going to have to clean up the big mess you made!"

The rest of the ride was uneventful, your usual Alphabet Song and Itsy Bitsy Spider (which he does the hand motions for, ack so cute). When I got to the daycare I unbuckled him and he held out his clenched fist to me, saying, "Eeer." I held out my palm and he opened his hand, depositing a fistful of torn-up napkin into it. I was stunned for a moment, realizing he had not only understood what I'd said about making a mess, but then made the conscious decision to clean it up for me!

Heart...swell, burst. Sigh.

To sleep, perchance to watch teevee

2005-05-19T12:01:00.000-04:00

Last night I was at work late to make up for being out on Monday. By the time I got home around 9:30 the kidlet was crashed out on the couch and Michael was sitting up waiting for me. We brought him to bed with us and he didn't wake up, I read for a while and finally went to sleep around 11. Kidlet made his way into bed with us at one point that isn't clear to me, and was attached to the boob when I woke up this morning at 6:30 (late, sigh). I managed to escape his clutches and got ready for work. I turned the television in the living room to PBS as kidlet likes to watch Between the Lions while we're running around making lunches and brushing teeth and all that.

Michael and I were dressed and standing in the bedroom when kidlet started to stir...it's always fun to watch him in the process of waking up. He stretched his legs out straight in front of him and flexed his toes, did a few little figure skater contortions, then sort of smiled and stuck his tongue out between his teeth. He wasn't quite awake when he did this as his eyes weren't open yet, so we stood there and giggled quietly as he continued to surface.

Eventually his contortions ceased and he blearily cracked his eyes open to see the both of us standing at the foot of the bed, smiling at him. What better way to wake up than to see your parents smiling down at you? He peeked at us for a moment, cracked a smile, then his eyes rolled and closed. He gave it a few more attempts before his sleepy eyes finally stayed open and focused on us. Then his brow furrowed as he heard a noise, he looked at us seriously and said, "Eee vee oh?" We said, "Yes, the TV is on," and he immediately scrambled up on his hands and knees and maneuvered his way off the bed and stumbled out to the living room. Michael and I looked at one another and laughed. "Well, good morning to you too!"

Surprisingly kidlet was in a great mood this morning. He woke up happy, let me undress him without a struggle, lay still while I washed his bum and put tons of Super Bum Cream on his (finally) healing rash, got him dressed, and even brushed his hair. Michael put his shoes and coat on him and we were ready to go. He didn't cry or fuss at all. He talked to a book in the car and pointed at rocks by the falls (he is currently obsessed with rocks). We got to daycare and he joyfully exclaimed "Eeer!" (Here) I brought him inside and other than a quick sip from his soymilk cup he ran over to give Emily a hug and then was off to play. When I left he scrambled up on the stool by the window and blew me kisses while I walked to the car. I could see his little mouth forming the words, "Bye bye Mommy!"

I've determined that the wakefulness of the previous nights this week were attributed in part to his having my cold. He hasn't had it nearly as bad as I have, but his cough did match mine in chunk factor this morning. I'm finally at the point where I'm hacking up greenish-yellow lumps, which is a good sign that I should be right as rain by the weekend.

Up, up, and awake

2005-05-18T12:01:00.000-04:00

Kidlet would. not. go. to. sleep. last night! He looked completely tuckered out from the moment I picked him up, and nearly fell asleep while I was nursing him before dinner. I woke him up because he needed to have his diaper changed (he's had a terrible rash the last couple of days) and after that he was up, up, up!

It was so weird. He looked SO tired and yet every time we'd get him settled in bed he would open the door and trot out into the living room five minutes later. He was in an okay mood - a little grouchy from lack of sleep, no doubt - so I tried to entertain him with various activities. We cleaned up the toys in the living room, turning it into a game and that was pretty fun. Then I decided to do some baking, so I brought a chair in that he could stand on and let him help me make blueberry buckle. He did a great job, actually. I showed him how to mix and keep the spoon in the bowl, then we took turns mixing as I added new ingredients. He really seemed to enjoy helping me. I caught him sneaking a finger into the bowl, then licking it and saying, "Mmmm!" I love his little exclamations. I worried for a moment as there was a raw egg in the mix, but then relaxed because the damage was already done and he was happy.

(18 hours later, so far, so good. Whew! I get paranoid about eggs.)

Kidlet is weird. I brushed some whole wheat flour off into the sink that had fallen on my cookbook and he stood there licking his finger, putting it into the flour, then licking it off saying "Mmmm!" Weirdo! After I mixed the butter, flour, brown sugar, and vanilla for the topping I let him lick that spoon, which he did with relish. He kept trying to poke his finger into the baking dish. I put it in the oven and he said "Hot!" when he felt the heat from it all the way where he was standing.

We cleaned up, more nursing, a video, and two books later and he was still wide awake. Well, he didn't look awake - he looked tired as hell, but he wasn't going to sleep for nothin.

I've noticed that he takes three-hour naps at daycare...no wonder he's up late and up early, he sleeps during the day! Wish I could have that luxury. This morning Emily told me he walked over and lay down on his own, and fell asleep without any help yesterday. It is SO not fair. Kidlet sleeps maybe 2 hours when he's at home, usually it's anywhere between 45 minutes and an hour.

It wasn't until 11 o'clock that Michael finally got kidlet to sleep, I handed him over only because my arms were getting tired and he put his head down on Michael's shoulder. Whew. When he came back out of the bedroom I said, "He's asleep?" and he replied, "Yeah - but I don't know where you're going to sleep!" Very funny. We ended up waiting half an hour and then transferring kidlet to his bed. He ended up back in bed with us in the wee hours anyway, but at least I got a few hours of unconstricted sleep.

We really need a bigger mattress.

This morning kidlet seemed sleepy still, and fairly happy...at least until Michael left for work. Then kidlet started wailing "Daddy! Daaaaadeeeee!" all the way out to the car, while buckling him in, and half of the trip to daycare. He finally calmed down and stared out the window until we got to daycare, then he was completely smiley and happy and nice once we got there.

*sigh*

I try not to take it personally, I really do.

Kidpoints

2005-05-11T12:01:00.000-04:00

- Found mysterious pliable white lump on kidlet's penis under his foreskin. Immediately thought "PENIS CANCER!!!!" but after doing some reading realized it was smegma. What a lovely word, smegma. It's perfectly normal and will come out on its own as his foreskin goes through the process of detaching from the glans. I feel a little silly for overreacting, but not knowing anyone (but my son) who is intact I had no one to ask.

- Found it very hard to Google the phrase "penis toddler smegma" without fearing a pedophile watchdog group breaking down my door at work.

- Found that the majority of websites addressing caring for the intact penis and anti-circumcision will, without fail, put a huge color photo of at least one erect penis at the very top of the page for optimal display at work right when your boss is walking by.

- Kidlet is WHINY lately. I don't know what's up with that. We're doing our best to ignore the whining and not acknowledge it as a negotiation tactic. We ask him to use his words and I've even gotten him to sign a few things when he's too upset to talk. I think it's a growth spurt, because he's so moody! Everything is a major issue.

Some examples of the terrible things that happen to my son to cause him such tragedy:

"Michael, it's time for you to get dressed."
"WAAAAAAHHHH!"

"Michael, let's eat - it's time for dinner."
"OWOOOOOOOOOOAAAAHHHH!"

"WAH! WAAAAAHH!"
"Would you like some milk?"
"WAAAAAHHHHH" (nodding)
"Okay, let me lift my shirt..."
"WAAAAAHHH!"
"Hold on, hold on! It's coming! Relax!"
"WAAAAAHHHHHHHmmph!"

"Kiddie! Kiddie!"
(lays on cat, cat runs away)
"You scared the kitty, let's play with this toy instead."
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHKIDDIEWAAAAKIIIIDDIEEEEEE!"

I think you get the idea. My child leads such a terrible and unstable life.