A Moment of Thanks

From Layla Grace: Sleep, Valentines Day and Regrets:

Towards the end of a pregnancy, a mother will wake up to go to the bathroom every few hours. I think this is the body’s way of preparing you for a newborn and the sleepless nights that come along with it. Layla now spends most of her days sleeping. 30-45 minutes after she wakes up, she is ready to lay down and sleep again. Is this God’s way of preparing me for all the quiet time that is coming soon? The house is quiet. I am able to go through the motions of laundry, dishes, cooking and picking up without interruptions. But I WANT interruptions. I WANT Layla to be under my feet asking for cookies. I WANT to hear her playing with her toys. I WANT to take 45 minutes to unload the dishwasher because she keeps trying to help. For every time I uttered the words “I just can’t get anything done with these kids under my feet all day” I am eternally regretful. The days that I looked forward to naptime so I could get a grocery list made, or finally fold all the piles of laundry…I regret those days too. If I could do it all again, I’d enjoy EVERY SINGLE WAKING MOMENT I had with her. I would never wish for her to sit still or take a nap or go to bed early. I would never look forward to the days when she could sit through an entire episode of Dora silently. I would treasure every second with her.

My heart broke when I read this, not just because of little Layla Grace's passing, but because it was as if it spoke right to my face and reminded me to be thankful for my son every single day. I AM the mother who looks forward to nap time so I can have some "me" time; I beg for my son to sit still through anything; I have daily battles about the dishwasher – for all of the "annoyances" and all the times I've threatened to drive to the Safe Haven – I almost feel ashamed. While I complain about how my son upturned yet another bowl of blueberries, I need to remember the the fact that he is here, and he is a healthy and happy child, and that trumps all those "annoyances".

Thank you, Layla Grace, for reminding me not to sweat the small stuff. My thoughts are with the Marsh Family, and I wish for nothing more than the healing of their hearts and souls.

Boy, Do I Feel Dumb!

Before cooking dinner tonight, I had to pull out a Dutch Oven from the back of the cabinet where I keep my pots and pans. In the process, I had to also pull out all the different cookware that I didn't need and placed them on the floor beside me. I was making a lot of noise, clanking away, mumbling to myself about how one day I'll have storage that's actual functional.

My son was right there next to me, and started to yell out "DAUUUMMM!" over and over again. Thinking that maybe he heard me call the whole process dumb, I replied with, "Yes, this IS very dumb!" But then he kept saying "DAUUUMMM!" and pointing at the pots and pans I've placed on the floor.

Then it hit me. He was calling them DRUMS because that is what he likes to do with my pots and pans – he likes to bang on the lids as if he were playing the bongos! I had to laugh for my fear that I had just inadvertently taught my son how to call something stupid, when all he was trying to tell me was that he wanted to play drums!

My Son is Awesome

Despite all my complaints about my kid's behavior and while I still often feel that parenting may not be the best "job" out there for me (and that it's just not for everyone), he really is a pretty awesome kid. At almost two years old, he ...

• can get & bring me many everyday things like sippy cups, shoes, blankies, and books. Oh, and the TV remote.
• can turn the TV on and off on his own.
• recognizes & can point out a number of things from his ABC book, like apple, ball, banana, car, cat, dog, door, dress, flower, and many more.
• can point out the following body parts: head/top, hair, eyes, ears, nose, mouth, belly button, toes, and bottom.
• knows how to kick and throw balls.
• can build block towers 7-10 blocks tall.
• can stack smaller blocks 5 blocks tall.
• can successfully insert several shapes in a shape sorter.
• laughs when you say the word "cotton".
• dances when he hears music, even when it's coming from a passing car & you're trying to cross the street.
• loves Sesame Street, Blue's Clues, and Yo Gabba Gabba!
• can scoop sand into a bucket.
• loves pouring water from one container into another.
• helps pick up his building blocks & put them back in the bag when it's cleanup time.
• is an expert sofa climber.
• loves to "talk" on the "phone" - remote controls, baby monitors, and cards have all been used as "phones".
• offers you his head when you ask for a kiss.
• thinks it's absolutely hilarious when he sticks his fingers in your nose, ears, and belly button.
• coughs in sympathy.
  

He may not be saying any real words just yet, but he more than makes up for it with his crazy little personality.

Kids With Guns

Today, while sitting down in Disneyland for lunch with my son, I noticed another little boy running around with his toy gun. He looked about five, and his "gun" seemed to be of the laser, Buzz Lightyear-type variety.

At one point, the little boy was pretending to shoot at the little birds eating crumbs off the ground. Then the Jedi Training Academy show started, and I noticed that he started to aim elsewhere - toward the crowd of people (mostly kids) around the stage.

My son doesn't own any toy guns, and I've consciously made the decision not to buy him anything that resembles one. (Summer was hard, what with all the gun-inspired bubble blowers around.) Yes, I'm a liberal, but I'm not necessarily anti-gun. With my son and his hyperactive tendencies, I'm all for doing what I can to help curb violence. (After all, my bouts of screaming rage is probably more than enough bad example.) Plus, I've seen enough young kids playing with toy guns pretending a little too far; holding the gun like gangsters on TV, pretending to shoot other kids they didn't like, or otherwise glorifying gun-ownership as something cool or tough or both.

I'm not sure what I'll do when he's older, when he's more conscious of other kids that he sees playing with toy guns. If he has a toy gun, is it alright for him to pretend shooting at animals and other people? Does that necessarily teach him that it's OK to pretend to hurt innocent animals and people? When we played cops & robbers when we were kids, was that OK?

Body Armor

With my son being the crazy hyperactive kid that he is, I often find myself saying that I need body armor to protect myself from his flailing limbs (including the occasional head-butt that sometimes results in bloody lips).

After reading this, I'm convinced someone should start making and marketing the stuff. Moms like us need protection too!

There IS Hope!

Despite having gotten up at 3:30am, the kid and I are unusually calm and quiet this morning. (No complaints!)

I just finished giving him an emergency shower due to some horribly messy poop, and to my complete and utter surprise, he SAT DOWN in the tub when I asked him to! He's been standing in the tub for as long as he's been able to, which I never fought. (Recently we even installed an extendable shower head to make the transition from baths to showers easier.) So when it was time for me to wash his feet, I asked him to sit down with the expectation that I would have to force him to do it. He looked at me for a moment, got down to squat, and then plopped himself on his knees. I must have sat there for a good few seconds, doing nothing due to the SHOCK of having my kid actually LISTEN to one of my commands. It was a beautiful moment.

Up until I realized I still had to wash the rest of the poop off of him.

Would You Like Another?

I was just reading some message board posts from other moms of only children about all the odd (and often intrusive) comments they get about having more children. I was reminded of my last physical, where my doctor kept pestering me have more children.

She has three of her own (could be four since I haven't seen her in over a year), and gave me every excuse reason why people should have more than one child - kids need siblings, parents need more help as they get older, etc. When I told her about the horrible PPD I went through and that I was still on medication at the time, she flat-out exclaimed, "So we'll just increase your dosage!" I knew she was (only half) joking, but she said it with such enthusiasm, as if she had just solved my biggest problem and removed the roadblock preventing me from making my way to baby number two.

The question is still up in the air, although I am 85% convinced I want to stick with one child. As great as it is to watch my son interact with other children, I just think more won't be good for my sanity. After all, I still question the one I currently have!

My Two Words

At the end of the day, many mothers describe their lives as blessed or loved. For me, my two words are haggard and defeated. I'm beyond post-partum depression. I'm just goddamn tired.

I really should just go get my tubes tied just in case I ever get the itch to spawn again.

Baby Crack

As a treat for eating some of his (organic) mac & cheese and roasted chicken for supper tonight, I gave my son a "This Apple Walks Into a Bar" from Trader Joe's. When he finished that one, he asked for more, so I gave him a "This Strawberry Walks Into a Bar" - why the hell not, it's Friday, and he's a skinny guy.

But then he kept asking for more after he finished that second bar. OK, I've found his baby crack, and I'm cutting him off at two bars.

This New Schedule Could Work!

New Schedule
7 A.M. Wake up
8 A.M. Breakfast
9 A.M. - 11:30 A.M. Playtime, errands
11:30 A.M. Lunch
12:30 P.M. Nap
2 P.M. - 5 P.M. Playtime, errands
5:30 P.M. Dinner
6:30 P.M. Bath
7:30 P.M. Bedtime

Swimming

Today was Ethan's first day of Parent & Me swimming lessons. It was a short lesson, but it seemed to be enough for him since it was his very first time in a real swimming pool. There was only one other child there, who was about Ethan's age, so the lesson felt very private and individualized. We covered things like getting their chin and cheeks in the water, having water poured over their heads, supporting them on their backs, and a quick underwater dunk.

The best part is the current price: there's a one-time registration fee of $25 for the first month, then $10 each following month. The classes are normally once a week, but Coach Dave mentioned today that we can drop by the other Parent & Me classes during the week.

I'm excited for Ethan to learn how swim (considering I can barely do it myself), and am looking forward to his future lessons.

Motherhood

I still firmly believe that some women are meant to be (great) mothers. I am not one of them.

I have gotten through the hump of post-partum depression. During that time, when I would tell my inconsolable infant son that he would be better off with a different mother, I doubted my ability as a parent. These days, it’s not so much about my parenting skills, but my insufficient reserves of patience.

My kid is active. VERY active. If, in a few years, his pediatrician mentions testing for ADHD, I would not be surprised. In fact, I can already see a future of many visits to the Principal’s office and warning notes from his teachers. It’s not that I don’t love him - I adore him to bits - but I am so far the opposite end of his hyperactivity that it often overwhelms me.

So again, it’s not that I doubt my ability as a parent; I think I’m doing a pretty good job, actually. It’s just that I’m not convinced this is “what I’ve been waiting for all my life.”

Tracy Joy

I'm eyeing a black Reese bag from Tracy Joy. She's closing up her bag business for now, so what stock she has left is on sale. My only complaint right now is that her stock of inserts (for the front panel) are limited to mostly girly/flowery fabrics - and I'm not a fan of such prints. I think she said they will continue to produce the inserts and flaps for their bags, so if I decide to get a bag now, I guess I can hope for a nicer insert sometime later.

Portraits

I've never been a big fan of traditional portraits. For our wedding, I made sure we found photographers that truly understood this concept and were able to take beautiful candid shots.

My son is now almost a year and a half, and I never thought about having him sit for portraits. We have tons of photos that we've taken of him, but pretty much all have been candid shots. Just as with our wedding photos, I wanted to keep memories "real" - that is, that my son is normally crazy, messy, excitable, rambunctious, hyperactive, and goofy. Sitting still with props around him would be totally out of the ordinary. (Not to mention, probably impossible to accomplish.)

Then, I came across a friend's link for the photographer they used to shoot their daughter's one-year-old "cake smash" photos. I looked at her site and portfolio, and honestly, I started thinking of reasons to book a session, even going as far as convincing myself that there doesn't have to be a reason to take nice photos of my son!

I love that her work seems so casual and natural. Her studio set-ups are clean and simple, and her on-site shots are simply gorgeous. Seriously, I want to go and book her now!

Another Dinner, Another Fail

All the parenting books that tell me to relax with my toddler's unpredictable eating habits can go suck donkeys' balls.

BITE ME, YOU PARENTING EXPERTS!

So on tonight's menu:

1. Freeze-dried peas and corn: a few bits were consumed.
2. Trader Joe's Spaghetti-O's: a couple of spoonfuls were consumed.
3. Same as #2 but with added (kosher) hot dog: a slice or two were consumed.

** At this point, Ethan has started to purposefully throw his food off to the side. **

4. Kidney beans from my chili: dumped.
5. Bits of ground beef from my chili: dumped.

** By the by, Ethan will look RIGHT AT ME at he dumps his food off to the side. **

6. A freeze-dried bit of strawberry: dumped.
7. A freeze-dried blueberry: dumped.

** Resisting the urge to ask my toddler "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!" I take him out of his high chair and place him back in the living room. **

I close the gate between us, and he, of course, starts to scream. As calmly as I could, I tell him that if he does not want to eat supper, then he can continue to play for a bit while mommy finishes eating.

Not a minute goes by and he stops screaming. In fact, he has completely forgotten about me. I finish my meal, and he's off playing on his own. He found his snack cup and is eating what's left.

Rough Night of (No) Sleep

The baby had a rough night last night. While he went to bed easily (around 7pm), he woke up a little after 9pm screaming his head off. His father comforted him a bit and put him back in his crib when he was calm again.

Unfortunately, that didn't last long and he started screaming again. We went in once more, changed his diaper, and I tried to sit with him for some extra cuddle time in the big soft chair in his room. When it seemed like he just wanted to keep climbing and looking around (even though the lights were off), I said goodnight and put him back in his crib.

A few minutes later, more screaming. This time I brought him back to our room. Maybe he just needs a little TLC and co-sleeping? However, my husband was still watching TV, which was a huge distraction to the baby. I took him to the guest bedroom so we could co-sleep quietly, but he was having none of it. So, back to the baby's room to try cuddling again.

When that just wasn't working, I put the baby back in his crib one more time. I turned on one light and told the baby that if he wants to look around and play, he can do so in his crib. I got a blanket, turned on some lullabies, and curled up in the chair. He watched me for a bit from his crib, but I soon fell asleep, and when I woke up, he was fast asleep as well.

Naps

For the first time ever, the baby is taking his morning nap upstairs in his crib. Normally he naps downstairs in his swing, but since I'm expecting the DirecTV service guy this morning, I figured he'd have less chance of being disturbed if he napped upstairs.

So far, so good, but it's only been a few minutes.

Babywearing

The baby and I just tried a mei tai for the first time yesterday and WOW. Comfy!

We've tried a Hotsling first, which was fine when he was smaller because all he would do is curl into a little ball. Once he started getting bigger, it just felt like he was squished in there. Then we got a Moby wrap, which is also pretty comfy, but all that fabric just got too hot, not to mention it's a little cumbersome to put the thing on. So I decided to try a mei tai.

I found a used (but in good condition) BabyHawk from another mama over on the FSOT boards on Diaper Swappers. It arrived yesterday, and I promptly tried it on. (I had to check out some videos on YouTube for visual instructions.) I wore the baby around the house for about half an hour; I walked around, sat, got up, etc while talking on the phone with my parents. For the entire time, I was comfortable, and just as importantly, the baby seemed comfortable. Or, at least, he didn't seem to mind since he was calm and quiet the entire time. (Normally, my kid is blabbering and extremely fidgety when he's on the floor or sitting in his high chair.)

The mei tai I got has a minkee lining, which I wonder if it'll make things hot. We have a few things to do outside today, so it'll be the perfect chance to really try this out.

Bad Parenting Moment

My son, for the most part, has been a fairly good sleeper at night. It was really only in the early months that I had a lot of trouble with him. However, last night, I just couldn't get him to sleep in his crib. He would start wailing as soon as I left his sight. I was so exhausted that I gave up and brought him to our bed. I laid with him until he fell asleep, then went downstairs to load up the dishwasher, make some applesauce, and maybe workout for a bit.

Next thing I knew, I heard a THUD from upstairs, followed by a very loud cry. I ran to our bedroom to find my son on his back on the (carpeted) floor. I scooped him up and consoled him, then returned him to the bed. I quickly poked and prodded him to check for anything that might be sore, but he seemed fine. After a few minutes he quieted down and fell back asleep. I guess he had woken up, crawled around the bed, and somehow crawled around the pillows and off the bed.

I know I'm not the only parent to have kids who fell off couches and beds, but I still feel horrible. We're at another stage, one where my baby is now much more mobile than he's ever been, and I'm trying to deal and figure out how to deal with things. My kid is now always bumping into things and furniture, grabbing things he shouldn't be and putting them in his mouth (like mom's indoor slippers and the cat's tail), and some days it just makes me so exhausted.

And this is just the beginning!

A Hair-Raising Experience?

Tonight while feeding the little one his dinner of sweet potatoes mixed with a little rice cereal, he started crying. Small sobs, at first, then full-on, red-faced shrieks. When he couldn't be distracted by my singing, I knew something wasn't quite right. I wiped him up a bit and took him out of his high-chair. I checked his diaper, and sure enough, he had pooped.

While I was changing him, I noticed something dangling in the back. I tried to wipe it away, but it wouldn't disappear. After a closer inspection, I realized that my son had a strand of hair sticking out of his butt.

Shocked and amused at the same time, I panicked for a few seconds. What was I supposed to do?? This wasn't exactly the kind of thing they write about in those baby books! Baby E was obviously unhappy, so I figured I'd try to pull the strand out. To my dismay, tugging gently on the exposed strand did nothing. Was there a knot stuck up there? Or was Baby E just so tense??

I had to ponder the situation a bit more. I let Baby E roll around the blanket on his bare butt to calm down and I called my brother for support. Surely he must have experienced something similar with his son, right? Nope. He just kept asking how he could he have ingested the hair. (I shed a lot. Despite sweeping and vacuuming regularly, you're gonna find my hair scattered everywhere.)

My choices were: keep trying to pull it out or call 911. (It's Saturday so his pediatrician is out of the office.) I didn't think the situation was dire enough for 911, so once Baby E was somewhat calm, I turned him over and started to tug again. Thankfully, this time the strand of hair kept coming out, and before I knew it, I was holding up a strand of hair approximately the length of my hand.

My husband told me to save it for Baby E's baby book. And no, I have no clue if he was joking or not.