Hey, so remember last year when Mal had a bunch of cavities and I freaked out and we didn't really do anything about them but up our cleaning game?
Yeah, they've progressed.
I went to a different dentist and while they were able to get x-rays (and only 1 was blurry!), they recommended the same thing: general anesthesia.
I don't like it any more now than I did in September, but: 1) I see how quickly that one tooth is deteriorating, and now one of the surface caries is an actual cavity (there's a difference; feel free to Google); 2) I feel zero anxiety about this office like I did the other one.
I'll be much happier at about 6:30 Monday morning when Mal's securely out and getting fixed up, but my normal parent nervousness about helping him transition to sleep with a scary, weird-smelling mask on his face is not the overwhelming panic and intuition to "STOP!" like it was at the other place.
Also: James made a decision in November to leave a job he'd only had 3 weeks for the job he has now, and I'm SO grateful. He was a contractor at the first job, and the insurance was prohibitively expensive through the tech recruiter.
We are so fortunate to have really good insurance with a low deductible. We are able to process the anesthesiologist through our health insurance, and even with a low $250 deductible after which we pay 10%, we've paid them $900!
The rest *should* be covered by dental, but I think there's a $1500 limit on that, and we might just exhaust our benefits for the year on this one thing. I guess the good news is we've hit Mal's deductible and half of our family deductible, and January's not even over yer.
So wish us luck on Monday! And NO MORE CAVITIES.
Showing posts with label preschooler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label preschooler. Show all posts
Saturday, January 19, 2019
Thursday, December 20, 2018
More Travel with Malcolm Tales
We had a great time in Arizona. It was nice to see family, and everything was lovely. Here are a few pictures before I tell you two stories I want to remember.
The last full day we were in town, Mal's grandma wanted us to have an early Christmas. We had dinner at our hotel, then went to a Christmas parade, and finished up the night with hot chocolate and presents at their house.
Earlier in the day, Mal and I went to Safeway to get chips and drinks, and some Christmas cookies. I ended up getting a big Christmas cookie decorated as a snowman. Mal said he was ready to eat some, and I explained that it was for dinner that night. He said he wasn't going to wait for dinner, and I disagreed.
We picked out some snowball cotton candy for Mal to enjoy at the present, and he said he liked it but was still insisting he was having some of that cookie in the immediate future. Once again, I told him we were waiting for everyone at dinner.
Once we'd gotten everything and were ready to check out, Mal said, "Mom, you're a dumb, dumb guy." We hadn't been talking, so I asked, "Is it because I won't let you eat the cookie right now?" He said, "Yes." It's probably rude, but I have not laughed that hard in a very long time. I know some parents might get onto their kid for calling them a "dumb, dumb guy" (James said his insults need work because this one sounds quite childish) but it's the only way he has to express how disappointed he is. And it cracked me up.
The other thing:
On Saturday, we messed around most of the day and were returning our car at about 3 o'clock. When Mal realized we weren't keeping the snazzy blue Nissan Sentra we'd used all week, he was super bummed. He said he hated our silver SUV and he didn't want it anymore; he wanted to keep the Sentra. He cried when we returned the car. He cried when we got onto the shuttle bus to the airport terminal (but first, he cried after an employee told us to run across a circular drive to get to the OTHER bus stop because the bus was over there, and it pulled out right as we arrived). And he cried a lot during the TWO HOURS we waited for our plane. (I had gotten there early because I don't know Phoenix weekend traffic enough to plan otherwise.) Mal also kept telling me he didn't want to get on the plane, but wanted to drive back to the hotel.
In his defense, Mal was tired. He fell asleep as we were taking off. He slept about half an hour and woke up in a much better mood. But when we got onto the shuttle for remote parking, he said, "I don't want to go back to our silver car! I want the blue car!" When we arrived at our parking space, he went full-on bawling, declaiming his hatred of the silver SUV and mourning the loss of the Sentra.
I helped him get into the car seat while expressing my empathy for his disappointment. Then we took off for home.
I was impressed, by the by, with The Parking Spot. Our plane landed at 9:00 and we were at our car by 9:23. I had downloaded their app, so while two other cars waited at the manned exit to pay, I just scanned my phone and was on the road. It was great!
We got about 1/3 of the way home when I heard Mal singing under his breath, "I love you. silver SUV. I missed you so much and I'll never leave you. I love you so much!" Love the one you're with, I suppose... :D
 |
| Our hotel couldn't have been better. |
The last full day we were in town, Mal's grandma wanted us to have an early Christmas. We had dinner at our hotel, then went to a Christmas parade, and finished up the night with hot chocolate and presents at their house.
Earlier in the day, Mal and I went to Safeway to get chips and drinks, and some Christmas cookies. I ended up getting a big Christmas cookie decorated as a snowman. Mal said he was ready to eat some, and I explained that it was for dinner that night. He said he wasn't going to wait for dinner, and I disagreed.
We picked out some snowball cotton candy for Mal to enjoy at the present, and he said he liked it but was still insisting he was having some of that cookie in the immediate future. Once again, I told him we were waiting for everyone at dinner.
Once we'd gotten everything and were ready to check out, Mal said, "Mom, you're a dumb, dumb guy." We hadn't been talking, so I asked, "Is it because I won't let you eat the cookie right now?" He said, "Yes." It's probably rude, but I have not laughed that hard in a very long time. I know some parents might get onto their kid for calling them a "dumb, dumb guy" (James said his insults need work because this one sounds quite childish) but it's the only way he has to express how disappointed he is. And it cracked me up.
The other thing:
On Saturday, we messed around most of the day and were returning our car at about 3 o'clock. When Mal realized we weren't keeping the snazzy blue Nissan Sentra we'd used all week, he was super bummed. He said he hated our silver SUV and he didn't want it anymore; he wanted to keep the Sentra. He cried when we returned the car. He cried when we got onto the shuttle bus to the airport terminal (but first, he cried after an employee told us to run across a circular drive to get to the OTHER bus stop because the bus was over there, and it pulled out right as we arrived). And he cried a lot during the TWO HOURS we waited for our plane. (I had gotten there early because I don't know Phoenix weekend traffic enough to plan otherwise.) Mal also kept telling me he didn't want to get on the plane, but wanted to drive back to the hotel.
In his defense, Mal was tired. He fell asleep as we were taking off. He slept about half an hour and woke up in a much better mood. But when we got onto the shuttle for remote parking, he said, "I don't want to go back to our silver car! I want the blue car!" When we arrived at our parking space, he went full-on bawling, declaiming his hatred of the silver SUV and mourning the loss of the Sentra.
I helped him get into the car seat while expressing my empathy for his disappointment. Then we took off for home.
I was impressed, by the by, with The Parking Spot. Our plane landed at 9:00 and we were at our car by 9:23. I had downloaded their app, so while two other cars waited at the manned exit to pay, I just scanned my phone and was on the road. It was great!
We got about 1/3 of the way home when I heard Mal singing under his breath, "I love you. silver SUV. I missed you so much and I'll never leave you. I love you so much!" Love the one you're with, I suppose... :D
Monday, December 17, 2018
I knew it was just a matter of time...
More on my trip with Mal soon, because there were some doozies I want to remember, but I have to denote this most special of occasions.
Ever since the last time I got pregnant at what the medical community at large (but never, ever my awesome team of midwives at Birthwise) would call "an advanced maternal age," I've known it was coming.
And it finally happened last night:
"Is that your grandbaby?"
I expected it to be more cutting than it was. Frankly, it was anti-climactic.
Part of this might be because the lady who asked me this both called Mal a girl repeatedly, after he corrected her, and then requested a ride to a bar down the street. From McDonald's. At 8:45 on a Sunday. Bless her.
But I think that most of it was because of the work I've been doing on accepting and loving my body (and all bodies). While what I've wrestled with most has been internalized fatphobia, I feel like really examining and deconstructing biases I've been taught my whole life has helped with everything, this included.
To be "offended" by being mistaken for my child's grandparent, I think I'd have to have more stock in pride of visibly defying my age, or shame in maturing. I have neither.
Actually, a few hours before that, I'd been telling James about an article I read on the thin privilege of "small fats," or what Roxane Gay calls, "Lane Bryant fat." I told him that in addition to the "privilege" I experience of not having to worry whether I'll fit into a restaurant seat, or have to buy two airline tickets, or be told by a doctor when I go in with pain in my breast and I should lose weight and I'll feel better, I also seem to have reached a milestone that many women meet with mourning, but I find exhilarating:
Largely because of my age, I'm "invisible."
When I was young, I was on the receiving end of much overt disgust (*shudder* "You're so fat!") and impertinent assumptions (the first time I was asked if I was pregnant, I was 16) very often. There's a trauma that comes with stigma in which someone isn't victimized only by overt actions; they are hurt over and over just by the anxiety they live with in anticipating the next unwanted negative interaction.
What I'm describing as my personal experience pales in comparison to the things that other minorities and "super fats" endure every day, but it was still a big part of my younger life.
It isn't anymore.
And the reason I believe it is not is that I have reached an age where it isn't seen as my civic duty to be attractive to the male eye anymore. And so I'm "invisible," but, to me, in the best possible way. I am not on the receiving end of objective scrutiny and catcalls. I know men are being kind when they hold a door open, because they don't have ulterior motives. Some women hate that; I think it's an incredibly comfortable place to have landed.
So, being mistaken for a grandma when I'm not wasn't a blow. I wasn't taken for being any "older" than I am; my sister, who is younger than I am, is a grandmother.
Actually, there's an important lesson there: You cannot tell how two people are related by looking at them. I should never make assumptions.
There we have it: The first, and likely not the last, time I was presumed to be the grandma. Very often, when I go to bed at night, I certainly feel as tired as a grandma after a grandkid has visited all day! So it's kind of accurate.
Ever since the last time I got pregnant at what the medical community at large (but never, ever my awesome team of midwives at Birthwise) would call "an advanced maternal age," I've known it was coming.
And it finally happened last night:
"Is that your grandbaby?"
I expected it to be more cutting than it was. Frankly, it was anti-climactic.
Part of this might be because the lady who asked me this both called Mal a girl repeatedly, after he corrected her, and then requested a ride to a bar down the street. From McDonald's. At 8:45 on a Sunday. Bless her.
But I think that most of it was because of the work I've been doing on accepting and loving my body (and all bodies). While what I've wrestled with most has been internalized fatphobia, I feel like really examining and deconstructing biases I've been taught my whole life has helped with everything, this included.
To be "offended" by being mistaken for my child's grandparent, I think I'd have to have more stock in pride of visibly defying my age, or shame in maturing. I have neither.
Actually, a few hours before that, I'd been telling James about an article I read on the thin privilege of "small fats," or what Roxane Gay calls, "Lane Bryant fat." I told him that in addition to the "privilege" I experience of not having to worry whether I'll fit into a restaurant seat, or have to buy two airline tickets, or be told by a doctor when I go in with pain in my breast and I should lose weight and I'll feel better, I also seem to have reached a milestone that many women meet with mourning, but I find exhilarating:
Largely because of my age, I'm "invisible."
When I was young, I was on the receiving end of much overt disgust (*shudder* "You're so fat!") and impertinent assumptions (the first time I was asked if I was pregnant, I was 16) very often. There's a trauma that comes with stigma in which someone isn't victimized only by overt actions; they are hurt over and over just by the anxiety they live with in anticipating the next unwanted negative interaction.
What I'm describing as my personal experience pales in comparison to the things that other minorities and "super fats" endure every day, but it was still a big part of my younger life.
It isn't anymore.
And the reason I believe it is not is that I have reached an age where it isn't seen as my civic duty to be attractive to the male eye anymore. And so I'm "invisible," but, to me, in the best possible way. I am not on the receiving end of objective scrutiny and catcalls. I know men are being kind when they hold a door open, because they don't have ulterior motives. Some women hate that; I think it's an incredibly comfortable place to have landed.
So, being mistaken for a grandma when I'm not wasn't a blow. I wasn't taken for being any "older" than I am; my sister, who is younger than I am, is a grandmother.
Actually, there's an important lesson there: You cannot tell how two people are related by looking at them. I should never make assumptions.
There we have it: The first, and likely not the last, time I was presumed to be the grandma. Very often, when I go to bed at night, I certainly feel as tired as a grandma after a grandkid has visited all day! So it's kind of accurate.
 |
| Ol' Granny and Mal, Jr. |
Tuesday, December 11, 2018
First time traveling alone with Mal!
Greetings from just outside of Phoenix, Arizona! It's actually quite a bit outside of it, but we'll get to that part later.
After our Disney trip, I promised Mal we wouldn't have to fly again until we go to Hawaii in 2020, but the opportunity arose for us to take a quick trip to visit James's mom, and we had enough points for airline tickets so didn't have to pay anything at all, including tax, because we also each had a $15 credit from when our tickets to Florida decreased in price. Yay!
This morning, Mal woke up about an hour earlier than usual, and two hours earlier than he had Monday. It wasn't because he was excited about the trip, because even though he knew it was coming, I haven't been playing it up as he has anxiety about air travel.
He sat up in bed asking to go to Target, so we did. We spent about an hour there, and Mal found a group of tiny squishies that I knew he'd enjoy on the plane.
Then we drove to the Parking Spot and took a shuttle to the airport. He went from being against flying at all to being pretty excited about it. We had some time at the airport, so we stopped for yogurt (I got a smoothie, largely so I'd have a cup for him to pee in on the plane, if the need arose; it did not) then went shopping and read several books in the bookstore.
When it was time to go to the gate, Mal opened a couple of his trip surprises. He was so excited! A guy across the way made the mistake of asking Mal about the character he was playing with, and he got an encyclopedic explanation.
He was itching to board by the time we did, so that was great. I think he just wanted to be in the air and have the whole thing underway. Oh, and I had not retrieved the headphones from James after he took Mal out Sunday night, so Mal did the flight with my hands over his ears on takeoff, and just for a bit when the "brakes" are on full blast to stop the plane at the end. I was super proud of him!
Oh, also, THERE WAS AN AUSTRALIAN SHEPHERD PUPPY ON OUR FLIGHT.
A lady from Phoenix had ordered an emotional support dog from a breeder/trainer in the Austin area. Rather than pay $500 to have the poor pup shipped to her in cargo (tear drop; I wish no one would choose that option), the lady got to the Phoenix airport at 3 AM, got to Austin by 8, the breeder brought the dog to the airport, then they just got on the next flight and came home. She said it cost about half the shipping charge. Oh, his name is Moose. My goodness, he was a cutie.
We had to take a shuttle to the remote car rental hub, then it seemed to take a LONG time for us to get our vehicle with "FastBreak" by Budget. I realized I should have just checked in at their regular booth, which had no line but several free agents, instead of going down to the parking lot kiosk. In theory that should have been faster, but they also have people who booked through AAA and AARP go down there, and they had significant paperwork to complete, whereas I'd done everything ahead of time. Mal didn't mind the wait. We can always find something to do.
We'd ordered this sort of "mini booster seat" for me to bring on the trip, and I have to tell you: IT IS A PAIN IN THE BUTT. DO NOT RECOMMEND. Thirty minutes later, we hit the road in Phoenix, just in time for rush hour! It took us about 30 minutes to travel the 7 miles to McDonald's, but Mal was so good. He didn't complain. And the sunset was super amazing, so we had lots to look at.
I had the most greasy, delicious mushroom Swiss Quarter Pounder. It tasted so spot on after a day of snacking on the go. Mal had his usual, and played a while on the PlayPlace.
Then we headed further out of town to Walmart to get a few food items for the room. That drive was the only time Mal complained that it was taking a long time. We'd been away from the house for more than 8 hours by that time.
When we got back in to the car to travel the last 40 minutes, I asked Mal if he wanted radio, no radio, chat, or sleep. He said he was going to go to sleep, and he did. We were super beat by the time we got to the hotel, and the office was locked so I had to call someone to come check us in. But look at what was waiting for us!
We didn't mind waiting at all, and when the gentleman came to assist us, he had a big black dog named Hank who was the friendliest pup. Now I'm all showered and ready for bed. Mal might be going strong for a while, but I've given him a deadline to at least try to go to sleep for the night. We'll see how that goes.
Thankful for a drama-free, if long, travel day. Can't wait to look around the hotel and see Grandma tomorrow!
After our Disney trip, I promised Mal we wouldn't have to fly again until we go to Hawaii in 2020, but the opportunity arose for us to take a quick trip to visit James's mom, and we had enough points for airline tickets so didn't have to pay anything at all, including tax, because we also each had a $15 credit from when our tickets to Florida decreased in price. Yay!
This morning, Mal woke up about an hour earlier than usual, and two hours earlier than he had Monday. It wasn't because he was excited about the trip, because even though he knew it was coming, I haven't been playing it up as he has anxiety about air travel.
He sat up in bed asking to go to Target, so we did. We spent about an hour there, and Mal found a group of tiny squishies that I knew he'd enjoy on the plane.
Then we drove to the Parking Spot and took a shuttle to the airport. He went from being against flying at all to being pretty excited about it. We had some time at the airport, so we stopped for yogurt (I got a smoothie, largely so I'd have a cup for him to pee in on the plane, if the need arose; it did not) then went shopping and read several books in the bookstore.
When it was time to go to the gate, Mal opened a couple of his trip surprises. He was so excited! A guy across the way made the mistake of asking Mal about the character he was playing with, and he got an encyclopedic explanation.
He was itching to board by the time we did, so that was great. I think he just wanted to be in the air and have the whole thing underway. Oh, and I had not retrieved the headphones from James after he took Mal out Sunday night, so Mal did the flight with my hands over his ears on takeoff, and just for a bit when the "brakes" are on full blast to stop the plane at the end. I was super proud of him!
Oh, also, THERE WAS AN AUSTRALIAN SHEPHERD PUPPY ON OUR FLIGHT.
A lady from Phoenix had ordered an emotional support dog from a breeder/trainer in the Austin area. Rather than pay $500 to have the poor pup shipped to her in cargo (tear drop; I wish no one would choose that option), the lady got to the Phoenix airport at 3 AM, got to Austin by 8, the breeder brought the dog to the airport, then they just got on the next flight and came home. She said it cost about half the shipping charge. Oh, his name is Moose. My goodness, he was a cutie.
We had to take a shuttle to the remote car rental hub, then it seemed to take a LONG time for us to get our vehicle with "FastBreak" by Budget. I realized I should have just checked in at their regular booth, which had no line but several free agents, instead of going down to the parking lot kiosk. In theory that should have been faster, but they also have people who booked through AAA and AARP go down there, and they had significant paperwork to complete, whereas I'd done everything ahead of time. Mal didn't mind the wait. We can always find something to do.
We'd ordered this sort of "mini booster seat" for me to bring on the trip, and I have to tell you: IT IS A PAIN IN THE BUTT. DO NOT RECOMMEND. Thirty minutes later, we hit the road in Phoenix, just in time for rush hour! It took us about 30 minutes to travel the 7 miles to McDonald's, but Mal was so good. He didn't complain. And the sunset was super amazing, so we had lots to look at.
I had the most greasy, delicious mushroom Swiss Quarter Pounder. It tasted so spot on after a day of snacking on the go. Mal had his usual, and played a while on the PlayPlace.
Then we headed further out of town to Walmart to get a few food items for the room. That drive was the only time Mal complained that it was taking a long time. We'd been away from the house for more than 8 hours by that time.
When we got back in to the car to travel the last 40 minutes, I asked Mal if he wanted radio, no radio, chat, or sleep. He said he was going to go to sleep, and he did. We were super beat by the time we got to the hotel, and the office was locked so I had to call someone to come check us in. But look at what was waiting for us!
We didn't mind waiting at all, and when the gentleman came to assist us, he had a big black dog named Hank who was the friendliest pup. Now I'm all showered and ready for bed. Mal might be going strong for a while, but I've given him a deadline to at least try to go to sleep for the night. We'll see how that goes.
Thankful for a drama-free, if long, travel day. Can't wait to look around the hotel and see Grandma tomorrow!
Wednesday, August 22, 2018
I seriously *do* want friends!
Oh my goodness, I'm so relaxed right now. Mal has typically only been interested in his computer at bedtime (for which I'm grateful; when he's active + sleepy, that = injury) but he's playing a game on PBSkids RIGHT NOW so I'm able to... well, not play Cars for five minutes or so. I mean, I have a genuine affection for Disney Pixar Cars, as you well know. But hours per day every single day of my life... I just need a break, friends.
Speaking of which: Two opportunities to meet and get to know other people have presented themselves this week, and I blew one off and am getting ready to blow the other one off. Which SUCKS. I think there is some misfire or maybe just abject laziness in my being that prevents me from working very hard to obtain what I believe I really want, which is close friendships for myself and for Mal.
First, Mal has a few friends he likes hanging out with. One is the grandson of a couple who lives around the corner from us. They typically have him one day a week, but last month had him for a week while his parents were on vacation. He and Mal hit it off, and have played together a lot. I like the grandma. She's a bit younger than my parents, but not much.
Then he has another friend he met at storytime. Even though Mal doesn't go anymore, we get together every couple of weeks. The mom and I get along, but when her son starts school in a couple of years, I'm not sure whether we'll stay in touch much, except maybe for things like birthday parties (their birthdays are a week apart), and probably then only for a couple of years. You know how it goes.
He has a third friend he's gotten together with a few times and really enjoyed, but that friend started school last week, so there's one down.
That little bit of reality had me reaching out to a few homeschool moms/grandmas I know about getting together, because each of the kids Mal plays with now will be in school by 2020.
As you might know, I'm not on Facebook anymore. I was on Facebook for ten years and made maybe one or two local friends from it, so I'm not concerned that I'm missing out on networking in that regard. Even within the homeschool community, I never found a place where I felt we fit in. There's an awesome group that has a centrally-located meet-up called "Yawp!" It's kind of a pay-as-you-can playgroup, with affinity meetings and fun events. The problem (for me) is that it's a half hour drive. People drive further than that and love it, but I desperately want the kind of friends I can ask to come over at the last minute, and they can be there pretty soon, if they're free. And, again, we have that right now in the kid Mal met at storytime.
So, I posted in NextDoor, which is a hyper-local social media site. I asked if there were any homeschooling moms with kids preschool age. I think the answer must be "no" but I did get one response.
"I have a newly 3 year old, a 1 year old, and expecting in January. Been looking for mommy friends myself! I started hosting a little walk once a week in Cedar Park and you should totally join! Very easy going and pace is whatever we want, nothing crazy. If you’re interested let me know!"
I tried. I really did. I messaged her. She messaged me. I know where the walk is. It's tomorrow. But here's my reality: 1) Mal won't "go on a walk." So he'll be in a stroller. 2) He'll want to chat, because he'll be bored (if he doesn't go to sleep, which would be HORRIBLE since that means midnight bedtime). 3) At 9 AM, it's in the high 80s, with humidity in the mid 60s. YUCKKkkk. 4) Are these fitness moms? I DON'T NEED FITNESS PALS. 5) I really want to sit on my butt while kids play and make noise and a mess around me. 6) IT IS TOO HOT TO BE ALIVE RIGHT NOW.
Oh, also, my parents are coming to visit tomorrow morning, and that's the excuse I'm going to give for skipping out.
There are what seem to be lovely women at the church Mal and I have been attending for the past few months. It's difficult to get to know anyone much at church, anyway, but with Mal running around and being ready to jet toward the end, I've been looking forward to an outside-of-church opportunity to chat. There's an upcoming meal, but it's when we're going to be out of town. And last night, there was a women's planning event at a local restaurant.
James got home in time for it to be conceivable for me to go. I had planned on trying at least a modest amount to go, but here's the thing about weeknights: 1) I feed James, and we eat dinner together, even if it's just one of us running to get more Cars while the other eats, and trading off these duties. 2) It's just difficult for me to leave the house in the evening. I need to go by early afternoon, or the inertia of the day slows, and the gravity of nighttime and sleep starts pulling on me. 3) I took Mal to Walmart at 4:30, and IT IS TOO HOT TO BE ALIVE RIGHT NOW. I was so drained by one vehicle trip into town, and I knew before we got all of the way to the store that I would be staying home once I got back.
That's it for now as Mal is back into playing with cars and only allowed me 10 bonus minutes to finish this blog post. Also, we're making Pop Tarts. So who needs friends, really, I guess.
Speaking of which: Two opportunities to meet and get to know other people have presented themselves this week, and I blew one off and am getting ready to blow the other one off. Which SUCKS. I think there is some misfire or maybe just abject laziness in my being that prevents me from working very hard to obtain what I believe I really want, which is close friendships for myself and for Mal.
First, Mal has a few friends he likes hanging out with. One is the grandson of a couple who lives around the corner from us. They typically have him one day a week, but last month had him for a week while his parents were on vacation. He and Mal hit it off, and have played together a lot. I like the grandma. She's a bit younger than my parents, but not much.
Then he has another friend he met at storytime. Even though Mal doesn't go anymore, we get together every couple of weeks. The mom and I get along, but when her son starts school in a couple of years, I'm not sure whether we'll stay in touch much, except maybe for things like birthday parties (their birthdays are a week apart), and probably then only for a couple of years. You know how it goes.
He has a third friend he's gotten together with a few times and really enjoyed, but that friend started school last week, so there's one down.
That little bit of reality had me reaching out to a few homeschool moms/grandmas I know about getting together, because each of the kids Mal plays with now will be in school by 2020.
As you might know, I'm not on Facebook anymore. I was on Facebook for ten years and made maybe one or two local friends from it, so I'm not concerned that I'm missing out on networking in that regard. Even within the homeschool community, I never found a place where I felt we fit in. There's an awesome group that has a centrally-located meet-up called "Yawp!" It's kind of a pay-as-you-can playgroup, with affinity meetings and fun events. The problem (for me) is that it's a half hour drive. People drive further than that and love it, but I desperately want the kind of friends I can ask to come over at the last minute, and they can be there pretty soon, if they're free. And, again, we have that right now in the kid Mal met at storytime.
So, I posted in NextDoor, which is a hyper-local social media site. I asked if there were any homeschooling moms with kids preschool age. I think the answer must be "no" but I did get one response.
"I have a newly 3 year old, a 1 year old, and expecting in January. Been looking for mommy friends myself! I started hosting a little walk once a week in Cedar Park and you should totally join! Very easy going and pace is whatever we want, nothing crazy. If you’re interested let me know!"
I tried. I really did. I messaged her. She messaged me. I know where the walk is. It's tomorrow. But here's my reality: 1) Mal won't "go on a walk." So he'll be in a stroller. 2) He'll want to chat, because he'll be bored (if he doesn't go to sleep, which would be HORRIBLE since that means midnight bedtime). 3) At 9 AM, it's in the high 80s, with humidity in the mid 60s. YUCKKkkk. 4) Are these fitness moms? I DON'T NEED FITNESS PALS. 5) I really want to sit on my butt while kids play and make noise and a mess around me. 6) IT IS TOO HOT TO BE ALIVE RIGHT NOW.
Oh, also, my parents are coming to visit tomorrow morning, and that's the excuse I'm going to give for skipping out.
There are what seem to be lovely women at the church Mal and I have been attending for the past few months. It's difficult to get to know anyone much at church, anyway, but with Mal running around and being ready to jet toward the end, I've been looking forward to an outside-of-church opportunity to chat. There's an upcoming meal, but it's when we're going to be out of town. And last night, there was a women's planning event at a local restaurant.
James got home in time for it to be conceivable for me to go. I had planned on trying at least a modest amount to go, but here's the thing about weeknights: 1) I feed James, and we eat dinner together, even if it's just one of us running to get more Cars while the other eats, and trading off these duties. 2) It's just difficult for me to leave the house in the evening. I need to go by early afternoon, or the inertia of the day slows, and the gravity of nighttime and sleep starts pulling on me. 3) I took Mal to Walmart at 4:30, and IT IS TOO HOT TO BE ALIVE RIGHT NOW. I was so drained by one vehicle trip into town, and I knew before we got all of the way to the store that I would be staying home once I got back.
That's it for now as Mal is back into playing with cars and only allowed me 10 bonus minutes to finish this blog post. Also, we're making Pop Tarts. So who needs friends, really, I guess.
Saturday, July 21, 2018
The Glamorous World of Motherhood
Hey, guys! This is my kid wearing only Slytherin underpants and sunglasses when we took an ill-advised jaunt down to the lake earlier this week.
It's been in the hundreds all week, and while I knew that and took plenty of fluids with us, AND refilled with tap water when we ran out, the uphill-pushing-50-pounds part nearly resulted in heat exhaustion for me.
I've had heat exhaustion a couple of times (it feels like a cross between hypoglycemia and food poisoning, if you're interested) and could sense it coming on, so I was literally stopping every 4 steps or so and drinking or swirling-and-spitting water (that last one Mal had not seen before and he did not like it). Finally, I had to pull over to the side of the road and sit in the shade, dumping most of the remaining water on my head, while I cooled off. Mal just sat on his trike-stroller the whole time and was fine. He wasn't super happy that I wouldn't let him drag his feet, thus making it more difficult for me to push, but I was not worried in the least about his disgruntlement at the time.
In other news, this has been a weird-feeling week. One reason may be that we've been on acute Poop Watch (TM). Here's the scoop on the poop: I thought Mal would *never* potty train, but right around his third birthday, he just seemed to get it, and so we were able to do away with daytime diapers. Cool.
We had gotten good enough that i wasn't super worried about accidents anymore, and wasn't constantly asking if he had to go. Then, at some point, when he started pooping like 5 times a day, never tidy "just dump and rinse" but "full on scrub the training potty" filling it in the sink and dumping it into the toilet over and over, I decided it was time to get rid of the training potties.
Here's a thing about me: When I decide something is over, it is OVAH.
I tossed the pots (would have loved to give someone to reuse, but figured the "eww' factor would be too much) and we moved on to the big toilets, no problem.
Except after a few weeks, Mal said he wanted the training toilets back because he was scared of the big potty. This was only for #2. He was peeing like a champ. Well, he's a boy so he can pee a lot of places, but one of them is the adult toilet, and he wasn't terrified of it, even though he also won't flush it in case it's too loud.
Anyway, I compromised and bought him a padded Paw Patrol training seat with handles for us to use on the big toilet. He never used it.
Since that time, he's often had what we call "shart events," where he'll squeeze a tiny bit off and manage to squash the urge to go. For a while.
During the past week, he had not used the toilet to poop since like Monday. He just kept sharting over and over, a dozen times per day or more, and sometimes as often as every 5 minutes for 4 rounds. It's demoralizing.
We've talked about how bad ignoring your body's urge to poop is, that poop is the stuff from your food that your body does not want or need and wants to get out of you. We know that he's not constipated. This isn't an "it's going to hurt, so I just won't go" situation.
And today, I looked up "stool avoidance," which is a thing that has been studied and that has lots of advice online. Apparently, 1 out of 5 kids has a period of refusing to poop, and without intervention, it tends to last about six months (are we 3 months in? I have no idea; I should keep better notes). Also, it's typically with kids who are potty trained later, with many being trained between 42 and 48 months, and most of the rest after 48 months. We're not even there yet, so that's not him.
One pediatrician had the advice to dispassionately put them back in diapers (she specified "not Pull-Ups"). No drama, just a matter-of-fact statement that since the child can't control it, that's what's necessary. Well, I'd asked Mal earlier if he wanted to go back to diapers so he wouldn't have to deal with changing underpants, worrying about the potty, etc. and he said a definite NO to that.
Her other idea was some "program" where they get 1 M&M for sitting on the potty, 2 M&Ms for staying so many minutes, and 3 M&Ms for actually going. UGH. We don't do incentives like that. And I get that she's a pediatrician, but, honestly, our child isn't medically ill, and we value relationship over the goal of perfect potty training, so... meh.
In the end (pun), I went to Walmart and bought another training potty. I'd asked Mal about that, and he said he needed it, because it was his size. When I brought it home, he was pretty interested... and then sat on the actual toilet. He said, "I used those when I was a baby." But a couple of hours and 2 pair of lightly-soiled boxers later, he actually poooooooooooooped on the toilet, so if I spent $12 on a potty we'll never use but just knowing it's there makes him feel better, it was *toiletly* worth it.
Thursday, July 19, 2018
When Pretending is Serious Business
Today, Mal's eye caught on fire, so he had to come into the doctor's (my) office for a shot, as one does. I gave him a shot, and he proceeded to tell me that I needed to use the hammer. I tested his reflexes, and there were none, but that could be because the hammer is plastic and I wasn't getting near any tendons.
As the exam went on, he kept telling me instruments I needed to use, ending with scissors. I proceeded to cut off his big toe and replace it with a Play-Doh prosthetic (pretend, also). Mal got really upset and pretended to take off the prosthetic toe. "I don't want Play-Doh! Give me something else!"
"I can't. I super-glued that on. You can't just take it off."
Mal started to get genuinely upset. "Give me my toe back!"
Then he changed tacks: "I want a tire."
So I put a tire on his toe.
"Not that one. That's yellow. I want a black tire."
I put a different one on.
"That's brown."
Then I pretended to use a spray can. "Shhhhh-shhhhhhh shhhsshhh. There I painted it black."
Brightly, "Okay! Thanks!"
And that was all for playing doctor.
Later, Mal was playing Paw Patrol. Recently, I rearranged his closet to fit more stuff in it. It looks great and works like a charm... until something needs to be removed. I'd just taken down the giant Paw Patroller, and pulled out a bunch of track pieces and the lookout tower. I was sitting in the floor when Mal decided he wanted to get out his Cars, too, to play "Car Patrol."
"Okay. Your cars are right there, just inside the closet."
In fact, I'd just picked ALL of them up and put them away to make room for the new play sets. Mal, who was sitting halfway between me and the closet, said, "You get them!"
"Nope."
Mal insisted louder that I get the Cars. At one point, he got mad that I was playing with Rider on a bike and took him from me, hiding him on the far side of the room and walking much further than he would have had to in order to have gotten his cars.
"Mom! You get them!"
"Why can't you get them? You're much closer and they're right there."
"Because I'm scared of the monster!"
"Well, so am I. I don't like monsters."
"There are no monsters that live in my home; there's only me and my family."
"THEN YOU CAN GET YOUR OWN CARS!"
"NO, MOMMY, YOUUUUU!!!"
He climbed over me and asked for "deedees" and kept insisting I get his cars. At some point, we got back onto the monsters. I told him I was still scared, and to prove to me that there weren't monsters, he opened his closet door, revealing the Cars bag.
I pointed this out, and he hid behind me saying, "But I'm still scared!" I told him I was, too. He said, "But the monster will eat me because I'm a kid! He won't eat you!"
"Yes he will! He'll say, 'Look! There's a big lady. I'm not wasting my time with this little kid. I want the giant treat!' Then he'll eat me and poop me out later and it'll be really gross."
I can't tell you what happened after that, except that neither of us got the cars and a few hours later, when one of Mal's friends came over, he did try to get the cars himself, but the bag got hung up on a drawer knob. Again with the "everything fits, but just don't try to move anything."
And this, friends, is why my brain is how it is these days. This is how I spend my hours. Good times. Gooooood times.
As the exam went on, he kept telling me instruments I needed to use, ending with scissors. I proceeded to cut off his big toe and replace it with a Play-Doh prosthetic (pretend, also). Mal got really upset and pretended to take off the prosthetic toe. "I don't want Play-Doh! Give me something else!"
"I can't. I super-glued that on. You can't just take it off."
Mal started to get genuinely upset. "Give me my toe back!"
Then he changed tacks: "I want a tire."
So I put a tire on his toe.
"Not that one. That's yellow. I want a black tire."
I put a different one on.
"That's brown."
Then I pretended to use a spray can. "Shhhhh-shhhhhhh shhhsshhh. There I painted it black."
Brightly, "Okay! Thanks!"
And that was all for playing doctor.
Later, Mal was playing Paw Patrol. Recently, I rearranged his closet to fit more stuff in it. It looks great and works like a charm... until something needs to be removed. I'd just taken down the giant Paw Patroller, and pulled out a bunch of track pieces and the lookout tower. I was sitting in the floor when Mal decided he wanted to get out his Cars, too, to play "Car Patrol."
"Okay. Your cars are right there, just inside the closet."
In fact, I'd just picked ALL of them up and put them away to make room for the new play sets. Mal, who was sitting halfway between me and the closet, said, "You get them!"
"Nope."
Mal insisted louder that I get the Cars. At one point, he got mad that I was playing with Rider on a bike and took him from me, hiding him on the far side of the room and walking much further than he would have had to in order to have gotten his cars.
"Mom! You get them!"
"Why can't you get them? You're much closer and they're right there."
"Because I'm scared of the monster!"
"Well, so am I. I don't like monsters."
"There are no monsters that live in my home; there's only me and my family."
"THEN YOU CAN GET YOUR OWN CARS!"
"NO, MOMMY, YOUUUUU!!!"
He climbed over me and asked for "deedees" and kept insisting I get his cars. At some point, we got back onto the monsters. I told him I was still scared, and to prove to me that there weren't monsters, he opened his closet door, revealing the Cars bag.
I pointed this out, and he hid behind me saying, "But I'm still scared!" I told him I was, too. He said, "But the monster will eat me because I'm a kid! He won't eat you!"
"Yes he will! He'll say, 'Look! There's a big lady. I'm not wasting my time with this little kid. I want the giant treat!' Then he'll eat me and poop me out later and it'll be really gross."
I can't tell you what happened after that, except that neither of us got the cars and a few hours later, when one of Mal's friends came over, he did try to get the cars himself, but the bag got hung up on a drawer knob. Again with the "everything fits, but just don't try to move anything."
And this, friends, is why my brain is how it is these days. This is how I spend my hours. Good times. Gooooood times.
Friday, June 29, 2018
Adventures in Unschooling
When you unschool, even if you believe in it, you almost constantly have to readjust the "school mentality" those of us who grew up in "the system" have.
Mal will be 4 in three months (!!!) and many of my friends, the ones whose kids aren't in preschools, are starting to do "schooly" things with their kids: pre-writing, lessons, that sort of thing. I'm not saying they're doing anything wrong; in fact, when D was this age, we were already a year into gymnastics, tae kwon do, and had daily "desk time" where we did sort of semi-formal stuff from a fun workbook I'd found at Sam's or something like that. Of course, we'd bag all of the homeschool stuff to go have fun, but I do get it.
As we've moved fully into unschooling, though, I've seen how my older kid thrives and how my younger kid has all of the curiosity and enthusiasm typical to children.
With Toys R Us closing, we've gotten Mal a few things we wouldn't have bought otherwise (a Jet robot suit, a Vampirina house, a LandSpeeder he doesn't have yet so shhhh), including a big Cars Florida 500 racetrack.
He's played with it for hours already, and I just got it put together at 4:30 yesterday afternoon. A "schoolish" mindset would say, "That's great. It's important for kids to play. But academics are also important." To which I would say: This is literally a crash course in physics.
My son has done a ton of experiments in the past half day: How far will the car go if I push it? Can the car rest on the sideways part of the track without falling off? Does it make a difference if I direct the cars to the outer or inner lanes? When using the motor launcher, what difference does my pushing the car into the feeder make versus just letting it roll in without the added boost? How is all of this varied with a lower, slimmer car? With a big, boxy van? Heavier? Lighter? If they're backwards? Upside down? Plastic vs. metal? Why do cars keep rolling out of the stands and how can I make that stop? How is the set behaving differently now that the batteries are dying (they're old, but the only D batteries we had in the house when I put this together)? Why won't this cat get the heck out of the way?
Neither Mal nor I could articulate the physical laws behind any of these observations, but the fact is that Mal is learning things. He's observing information that he will be able to implement to interactions in the future. That is precisely the point of learning.
And even the most confident of us unschoolers sometimes need the reminder.
Mal will be 4 in three months (!!!) and many of my friends, the ones whose kids aren't in preschools, are starting to do "schooly" things with their kids: pre-writing, lessons, that sort of thing. I'm not saying they're doing anything wrong; in fact, when D was this age, we were already a year into gymnastics, tae kwon do, and had daily "desk time" where we did sort of semi-formal stuff from a fun workbook I'd found at Sam's or something like that. Of course, we'd bag all of the homeschool stuff to go have fun, but I do get it.
As we've moved fully into unschooling, though, I've seen how my older kid thrives and how my younger kid has all of the curiosity and enthusiasm typical to children.
With Toys R Us closing, we've gotten Mal a few things we wouldn't have bought otherwise (a Jet robot suit, a Vampirina house, a LandSpeeder he doesn't have yet so shhhh), including a big Cars Florida 500 racetrack.
He's played with it for hours already, and I just got it put together at 4:30 yesterday afternoon. A "schoolish" mindset would say, "That's great. It's important for kids to play. But academics are also important." To which I would say: This is literally a crash course in physics.
My son has done a ton of experiments in the past half day: How far will the car go if I push it? Can the car rest on the sideways part of the track without falling off? Does it make a difference if I direct the cars to the outer or inner lanes? When using the motor launcher, what difference does my pushing the car into the feeder make versus just letting it roll in without the added boost? How is all of this varied with a lower, slimmer car? With a big, boxy van? Heavier? Lighter? If they're backwards? Upside down? Plastic vs. metal? Why do cars keep rolling out of the stands and how can I make that stop? How is the set behaving differently now that the batteries are dying (they're old, but the only D batteries we had in the house when I put this together)? Why won't this cat get the heck out of the way?
Neither Mal nor I could articulate the physical laws behind any of these observations, but the fact is that Mal is learning things. He's observing information that he will be able to implement to interactions in the future. That is precisely the point of learning.
And even the most confident of us unschoolers sometimes need the reminder.
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
Life with Mal
Have you ever heard of the term "twice exceptional"? I am pretty sure both of my children qualify.
It's always an adventure, and I thought I'd give you a couple of examples from the past three days.
Sunday night, Mal had tried several times to go to bed, but just had too much energy. At some point, around 9:30, he said that he wanted to watch "Mater and the Banshee." He'd been talking about the banshee all day, so I figured it was something he'd already watched. I looked it up on YouTube, but the only videos I could find were homemade. Mal said, no, it was an actual Cars video.
I Googled that and found references to "Mater and the Ghost Light," which was apparently a video short. I found one on YouTube that was about a minute and a half, but that was only an excerpt, and he cried mightily when it was over. I found a place where it seemed like I should be able to purchase (or rent?) the whole 7-ish minute thing for $2, but after I clicked on the video, it didn't have an overt place to buy it.
At this point, Mal was inconsolable, explaining details to "help" me find it.
Finally, I located a playlist where someone had posted three separate videos that comprised the entire thing. Mal watched the first video twice, then watched the second and third... and when the credits rolled, there had been no banshee.
He BAWLED.
I snatched the tablet and was trying to decide what to look for next when he said, "That's it!" as the video was still playing in the background.
I closed out the search box and there was a six second bit after the credits where this giant Frankensteined tractor monster thing was standing menacingly behind and over Mater. Mater says, "What was that?" then slowly turns around. He sees the banshee, his jaw drops, and he says, "You'd better be careful. I heard there was a banshee out here tonight. You might want to head home. Night!" and happily drives away.
Mal said, "That was it! I told you!"
I asked, "That was all you wanted to see?" "Yes." "So now you're happy?" "Yes. Deedees!" And he went to sleep. The end.
Today, Mal wanted to go to Altitude Jump Park, way down in south Austin. It takes 45 minutes to get there, but I'd told him this weekend we could go and make a day of it.
We got to the park, and Mal jumped for a solid 15 minutes, then was ready for a break. I asked him if he wanted a snack or some juice, and he said, "No. I want soda." I hadn't brought "his" soda (which is caffeine-free soda, definitely NOT Sprite or 7-Up or root beer), and... that was it. He wanted to go home. I offered to stop at Wendy's, which has a Freestyle machine, to get him a drink, but he was not having it. He was done with the day.
On the way to Altitude, I'd pointed out the aircraft at Mabry air field, but I forgot to mention it on the way home. Mal had calmed down from his soda disappointment, then about three exits past Mabry, recognized the general area and said, "I want to see my airplanes!" When I explained that we were already past them and would have to see them next time, that was enough fodder for crying all the way home.
About Lakeline and 183, though, it was clear he wasn't actually sad anymore. He just wanted to cry and "be sad." Sometimes, as when he was a baby, he just needs to cry a lot. And often, he'll get over one thing and think of something else (like, seriously, that he wants Shelby back; we had her six months and she's been gone 10 months) to keep weeping over.
Sunday night, before the banshee thing, Mal ran into the bathroom wailing. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "Daddy won't take me to Las Vegas!" I said, "You'd have to take an airplane!" Mal said, "You'd have to take an airplane, Daddy."
At first, I suspected this had to do with Blippi videos, since there are a couple Mal has watched where Blippi goes to play places like Catch Air in Las Vegas. After talking to him, though, I think he meant Lago Vista. He wants to go visit his friend, Alexei, who lives in Jonestown, but you do have to drive into Lago Vista to get there. At least I can understand his abject disappointment about not being able to see a friend. He has made it very clear that he hates airplanes (and trains, and probably buses) so I don't think he'd relish a jaunt to Sin City.
It's always an adventure, and I thought I'd give you a couple of examples from the past three days.
Sunday night, Mal had tried several times to go to bed, but just had too much energy. At some point, around 9:30, he said that he wanted to watch "Mater and the Banshee." He'd been talking about the banshee all day, so I figured it was something he'd already watched. I looked it up on YouTube, but the only videos I could find were homemade. Mal said, no, it was an actual Cars video.
I Googled that and found references to "Mater and the Ghost Light," which was apparently a video short. I found one on YouTube that was about a minute and a half, but that was only an excerpt, and he cried mightily when it was over. I found a place where it seemed like I should be able to purchase (or rent?) the whole 7-ish minute thing for $2, but after I clicked on the video, it didn't have an overt place to buy it.
At this point, Mal was inconsolable, explaining details to "help" me find it.
Finally, I located a playlist where someone had posted three separate videos that comprised the entire thing. Mal watched the first video twice, then watched the second and third... and when the credits rolled, there had been no banshee.
He BAWLED.
I snatched the tablet and was trying to decide what to look for next when he said, "That's it!" as the video was still playing in the background.
I closed out the search box and there was a six second bit after the credits where this giant Frankensteined tractor monster thing was standing menacingly behind and over Mater. Mater says, "What was that?" then slowly turns around. He sees the banshee, his jaw drops, and he says, "You'd better be careful. I heard there was a banshee out here tonight. You might want to head home. Night!" and happily drives away.
Mal said, "That was it! I told you!"
I asked, "That was all you wanted to see?" "Yes." "So now you're happy?" "Yes. Deedees!" And he went to sleep. The end.
 |
| Mal dancing at McDonald's. Wearing headphones because that's the only way he can handle the play area. |
We got to the park, and Mal jumped for a solid 15 minutes, then was ready for a break. I asked him if he wanted a snack or some juice, and he said, "No. I want soda." I hadn't brought "his" soda (which is caffeine-free soda, definitely NOT Sprite or 7-Up or root beer), and... that was it. He wanted to go home. I offered to stop at Wendy's, which has a Freestyle machine, to get him a drink, but he was not having it. He was done with the day.
On the way to Altitude, I'd pointed out the aircraft at Mabry air field, but I forgot to mention it on the way home. Mal had calmed down from his soda disappointment, then about three exits past Mabry, recognized the general area and said, "I want to see my airplanes!" When I explained that we were already past them and would have to see them next time, that was enough fodder for crying all the way home.
About Lakeline and 183, though, it was clear he wasn't actually sad anymore. He just wanted to cry and "be sad." Sometimes, as when he was a baby, he just needs to cry a lot. And often, he'll get over one thing and think of something else (like, seriously, that he wants Shelby back; we had her six months and she's been gone 10 months) to keep weeping over.
Sunday night, before the banshee thing, Mal ran into the bathroom wailing. I asked him what was wrong and he said, "Daddy won't take me to Las Vegas!" I said, "You'd have to take an airplane!" Mal said, "You'd have to take an airplane, Daddy."
At first, I suspected this had to do with Blippi videos, since there are a couple Mal has watched where Blippi goes to play places like Catch Air in Las Vegas. After talking to him, though, I think he meant Lago Vista. He wants to go visit his friend, Alexei, who lives in Jonestown, but you do have to drive into Lago Vista to get there. At least I can understand his abject disappointment about not being able to see a friend. He has made it very clear that he hates airplanes (and trains, and probably buses) so I don't think he'd relish a jaunt to Sin City.
 |
| You can only play Cars at home so much. Sometimes, you have to go play with cars at CVS. |
Tuesday, June 19, 2018
Disney Pixar Cars Movies and Music, Entry 2 of 3
"Cars 2" was our entree into the entire Disney/Pixar Cars franchise. Mal watched it about a year ago, and rewatched it, and just kept watching it. He loved it. I'm tempted to say that, though thoroughly enjoyable, it's my least favorite of the trilogy... But when I think about it, it actually has a lot going for it. It's just very different from the other two films.
Unlike Cars and Cars 3, Cars 2 doesn't focus as much on Lightning McQueen (even though the film is about his participation in the World Grand Prix). Mater actually takes center stage in this movie.
If you are a James Bond fan, this movie is likely to tickle you. There are so many parallels, from Michael Giacchino's characteristically Bond-sounding score to the intrigue plot, down to the name of a female agent recruit: Holly Shiftwell.
The story itself centers around a nefarious plot surrounding a multi-national automobile race. Finally allowed to tag along with McQueen (which isn't the first time he's had to heed Sally's empathetic advice in this regard), Mater finds himself accidentally embroiled in the criminal activity, but with the good guys, of course.
There are several international locales represented here: Japan, Italy, and Great Britain. To see a Cars take on them is a lot of fun, most notably the Japanese restrooms. Some friends recently visited Japan and said they do not understand why our toilets are stuck in the dark ages. Mater might have a different take.
Right now, Mal doesn't have any kind of context for "dead," but it comes up a lot in the movie. We don't actually see any characters die directly, but from dialogue and a cutaway scene or two, it's clear that they do. That might frighten some kids. It seems a little intense to me, but I guess is in keeping with the spy/bad guy theme.
What ends up being the biggest plus for this movie is that the overt theme is just a vehicle for the more subtle, overarching ones: being yourself, accepting people for who they are, what it means to be a friend... and maybe that you should be kind to all people because some marginalized groups might just unite under one bully who doesn't underestimate them??
No song sums up the first three quieter themes like Brad Paisley's Nobody's Fool. "Now I’m nobody’s fool/ It ain't no fun anymore/ 'Cause now that I’m nobody’s fool/ I'd rather be yours./ Well you know what they say/ The truth sets you free/ And that’s just great unless you don’t wanna be..." What great lyrics. I'm telling you: I have historically not appreciated country music, but Paisley's going to turn me, if we keep listening to these over and over and over again.
It's pretty appropriate that this Cars soundtrack also includes a Cars (the 80s band) cover: "You Might Think," performed by Weezer. Then, to go along with the global visuals of the film, there is the pop/dance "Polyrhythm" by Perfume; and the French "Mon Coeur Fait Vroum" (or "My Heart Goes 'Vroom'"), written by Giacchino and performed by Bénabar.
The song I'll feature here isn't necessarily my favorite song (which just might be "Nobody's Fool," dang you), but is both a fun summation of the movie, and a gentle reminder that our world is indeed global, and we can't "sit this out no more." Although the lyrics focus on superficial differences (and, annoying to me, repeat the monetary part when I could have liked to hear a fresh comparison) and never actually addresses any of the deep issues that we allow to divide our countries from one another, the reminder that our best hope is to see the best in each other is definitely a timely one (even though the movie came out 7 years ago).
Unlike Cars and Cars 3, Cars 2 doesn't focus as much on Lightning McQueen (even though the film is about his participation in the World Grand Prix). Mater actually takes center stage in this movie.
If you are a James Bond fan, this movie is likely to tickle you. There are so many parallels, from Michael Giacchino's characteristically Bond-sounding score to the intrigue plot, down to the name of a female agent recruit: Holly Shiftwell.
The story itself centers around a nefarious plot surrounding a multi-national automobile race. Finally allowed to tag along with McQueen (which isn't the first time he's had to heed Sally's empathetic advice in this regard), Mater finds himself accidentally embroiled in the criminal activity, but with the good guys, of course.
There are several international locales represented here: Japan, Italy, and Great Britain. To see a Cars take on them is a lot of fun, most notably the Japanese restrooms. Some friends recently visited Japan and said they do not understand why our toilets are stuck in the dark ages. Mater might have a different take.
Right now, Mal doesn't have any kind of context for "dead," but it comes up a lot in the movie. We don't actually see any characters die directly, but from dialogue and a cutaway scene or two, it's clear that they do. That might frighten some kids. It seems a little intense to me, but I guess is in keeping with the spy/bad guy theme.
What ends up being the biggest plus for this movie is that the overt theme is just a vehicle for the more subtle, overarching ones: being yourself, accepting people for who they are, what it means to be a friend... and maybe that you should be kind to all people because some marginalized groups might just unite under one bully who doesn't underestimate them??
No song sums up the first three quieter themes like Brad Paisley's Nobody's Fool. "Now I’m nobody’s fool/ It ain't no fun anymore/ 'Cause now that I’m nobody’s fool/ I'd rather be yours./ Well you know what they say/ The truth sets you free/ And that’s just great unless you don’t wanna be..." What great lyrics. I'm telling you: I have historically not appreciated country music, but Paisley's going to turn me, if we keep listening to these over and over and over again.
It's pretty appropriate that this Cars soundtrack also includes a Cars (the 80s band) cover: "You Might Think," performed by Weezer. Then, to go along with the global visuals of the film, there is the pop/dance "Polyrhythm" by Perfume; and the French "Mon Coeur Fait Vroum" (or "My Heart Goes 'Vroom'"), written by Giacchino and performed by Bénabar.
The song I'll feature here isn't necessarily my favorite song (which just might be "Nobody's Fool," dang you), but is both a fun summation of the movie, and a gentle reminder that our world is indeed global, and we can't "sit this out no more." Although the lyrics focus on superficial differences (and, annoying to me, repeat the monetary part when I could have liked to hear a fresh comparison) and never actually addresses any of the deep issues that we allow to divide our countries from one another, the reminder that our best hope is to see the best in each other is definitely a timely one (even though the movie came out 7 years ago).
Thursday, May 31, 2018
Disney Pixar Cars Movies and Music, Entry 1 of 3
To say my life has been monopolized by Disney Pixar Cars for the past half a year is no understatement. I think it started when my mom found a Cars 2 busy book a while before Mal's birthday. Though she made a cursory attempt to "hide" it at her house, Mal found it and played with it often before he turned 3.
Since then, we've watched each of the three movies multiple times, though often only a bit at a time, and frequently with some scenes played over and over. Eventually, we purchased the soundtracks, as well, so I'm pretty well-versed in those as I have a child who revels in repetition even more than most.
While my appreciation of the movies has grown with subsequent viewings, and because of my son's fandom (oh, and I do have a definite favorite, but we'll get to that soon enough), I have been so taken in by the music from the soundtracks. Enough so that I wanted to talk about them here, and share one song from each collection with you.
So without further ado, let's chat about Cars 1 ("There's not a 'Cars 1'!" is Mal's refrain, but just saying "let's chat about cars" sounds like I might want to hear about transmissions or something, and I really don't.)
I guess that digression might qualify as "ado." I apologize for that.
The initial Cars movie came out in 2006, and I'd seen it with D, though I don't remember when. Last year, I recommended it to James, and we watched it together. At the end, he expressed surprise that a movie about vehicles could move him in the direction of tears, but you know it's not a Pixar film if you're not crying at least once.
In case you haven't seen it, the basic gist is that Lightning McQueen is a rookie race car who is on the verge of winning the Piston Cup his first season running. He is full of himself, dismissive of others, and might be a bit lonely if he were ever prone to introspection.A series of unfortunate events (probably TM) lands him in a tiny rural town in the middle of nowhere, unable to leave, risking his chance at the final race of the season.
The town is Radiator Springs, located in a purposefully vague spot along the old Route 66 in either New Mexico or Arizona. A formerly bustling little place, I-40 has robbed Radiator Springs of its foot traffic and business, jeopardizing the locals' livelihoods.
As McQueen unwillingly gets to know the residence there in "hillbilly hell" (his words), things start changing for him. He still wants to race, and he still wants to win, but by the end of the movie, the audience wants him to win, too. We want everyone in the movie to win.
This movie's soundtrack is a fun mix of rock, Mowtown, doo-wop, and country. It includes Sheryl Crow's "Real Gone" to open the movie. Of course, "Get Your Kicks on Route 66" is present... twice. The first time, it's the Chuck Berry version; for the closing credits, it's John Mayer. "Our Town" is characteristic James Taylor is predictably heart-breaking. And "Sh-Boom" by the 1950s band The Chords is a lot of fun; it's also the only hit they ever had. I think it holds up!
There are a few other songs, and the score is enjoyable, even apart from the movie.
But the song that means the most to me is this one. I never thought that a country song could be the anthem of my life, but this one fits. It's called "Find Yourself" and it's by Brad Paisley, an artist who appears on all three Cars soundtracks. He also wrote and performed "Behind the Clouds" on this soundtrack, and it's a super fun old-school/honky-tonk-sounding country song.
The song is brilliant because of how well it fits the overarching theme of the movie from Lightning McQueen's viewpoint, but also because you can take it on its own, apart from the film, and it's still profound. I was going to write some more but instead, just listen to it. I listened to it four times in a row on the drive home today while Mal slept, and I cried every time.
Since then, we've watched each of the three movies multiple times, though often only a bit at a time, and frequently with some scenes played over and over. Eventually, we purchased the soundtracks, as well, so I'm pretty well-versed in those as I have a child who revels in repetition even more than most.
While my appreciation of the movies has grown with subsequent viewings, and because of my son's fandom (oh, and I do have a definite favorite, but we'll get to that soon enough), I have been so taken in by the music from the soundtracks. Enough so that I wanted to talk about them here, and share one song from each collection with you.
So without further ado, let's chat about Cars 1 ("There's not a 'Cars 1'!" is Mal's refrain, but just saying "let's chat about cars" sounds like I might want to hear about transmissions or something, and I really don't.)
I guess that digression might qualify as "ado." I apologize for that.
The initial Cars movie came out in 2006, and I'd seen it with D, though I don't remember when. Last year, I recommended it to James, and we watched it together. At the end, he expressed surprise that a movie about vehicles could move him in the direction of tears, but you know it's not a Pixar film if you're not crying at least once.
In case you haven't seen it, the basic gist is that Lightning McQueen is a rookie race car who is on the verge of winning the Piston Cup his first season running. He is full of himself, dismissive of others, and might be a bit lonely if he were ever prone to introspection.A series of unfortunate events (probably TM) lands him in a tiny rural town in the middle of nowhere, unable to leave, risking his chance at the final race of the season.
The town is Radiator Springs, located in a purposefully vague spot along the old Route 66 in either New Mexico or Arizona. A formerly bustling little place, I-40 has robbed Radiator Springs of its foot traffic and business, jeopardizing the locals' livelihoods.
As McQueen unwillingly gets to know the residence there in "hillbilly hell" (his words), things start changing for him. He still wants to race, and he still wants to win, but by the end of the movie, the audience wants him to win, too. We want everyone in the movie to win.
This movie's soundtrack is a fun mix of rock, Mowtown, doo-wop, and country. It includes Sheryl Crow's "Real Gone" to open the movie. Of course, "Get Your Kicks on Route 66" is present... twice. The first time, it's the Chuck Berry version; for the closing credits, it's John Mayer. "Our Town" is characteristic James Taylor is predictably heart-breaking. And "Sh-Boom" by the 1950s band The Chords is a lot of fun; it's also the only hit they ever had. I think it holds up!
There are a few other songs, and the score is enjoyable, even apart from the movie.
But the song that means the most to me is this one. I never thought that a country song could be the anthem of my life, but this one fits. It's called "Find Yourself" and it's by Brad Paisley, an artist who appears on all three Cars soundtracks. He also wrote and performed "Behind the Clouds" on this soundtrack, and it's a super fun old-school/honky-tonk-sounding country song.
The song is brilliant because of how well it fits the overarching theme of the movie from Lightning McQueen's viewpoint, but also because you can take it on its own, apart from the film, and it's still profound. I was going to write some more but instead, just listen to it. I listened to it four times in a row on the drive home today while Mal slept, and I cried every time.
Monday, April 30, 2018
Welcome to Mommy's Toy Review Story!
For about a year now, Mal has been watching Ryan's Toy Review (although, lately, he's been branching out; in part because we finally broke down and got Netflix). Our policy on "screen time" (though I cringe at that pretty useless label) is that we don't suggest it, but we don't refuse it. When Mal wants to play Angry Birds or watch videos or whatever, he can. But he always asks, mostly because he asks us to do EVERYTHING for him.
Anyway, a few months ago, I got into the habit of, when he'd say, "I want to watch Ryan Toys Aview," I'd use my fingers to draw a box around my face and say, "Welcomes to Ryan Toy Review!" (which is how Ryan, as a young child, recorded the opening). Then I'd hum the opening ditty, and repeat his mom's eternal entree: "Hey, Ryan! What are you doing today?"
At that point, I'd start making up silly little stories that would usually end with disaster, and Mal would say, "NO! I want to watch it on my computer!" But, over time, it changed to, "Do another one!" That morphed into sometimes close to an HOUR of "Do another Ryan's Toy Review!" This is one reason that, as a parent, you should never start anything that creates work for yourself. Rookie mistake.
We have several versions: the original, Brian's Toy Review (which I said mostly to annoy Mal, but he started liking), Mal's Toy Review, and, as of this morning, Alien's Toy Review.
Today, in fact, Mal followed me around the house while I cleaned the kitchen and both bathrooms, just to hear more toy review stories. At one point, we started out with Mal's Toy Review, and in that story, he was training to be a NASA astronaut, planning to test the effects of space on the growth of a child. While he was in orbit, he met an alien. That morphed into his actually pretending to play with an alien, showing it around his room and sharing the alien food with me. After that, we transitioned into the Alien Toy Review, which wasn't in English and didn't tax my brain as much as actually creating a somewhat coherent story was doing.
I was thinking the other day about how different Mal is from D at his age. D was already creating like crazy at this point: painting, crafting, making things out of paper, etc. Mal just isn't into that. He doesn't color. He doesn't really use markers or pencils or pens. He creates by playing very imaginatively. And he "directs" when he has other people playing with him. Nicely, he likes to construct at scene and have it carried out. More honestly, he's bossy. "Say this" comes out of his mouth often.
Also, D would sit for hours having me read aloud. In fact, I'd have to beg off after chapters and chapters so I could give my voice a break. Mal has a couple of go-to books he enjoys exploring, but they're mostly pictures that he likes to see. In the past few weeks, he's pulling out some fun Sandra Boynton board books, and has asked me to read Mater's Backward ABC book a couple of times in a row.
Now that it's getting warmer, I'm trying to keep Mal outside and in the sun as much as I can handle, in order to have him absorb that vitamin D. This whole week is supposed to be cloudy and rainy, but this weekend was awesome.
On Saturday, Mal swam for a couple of hours at my parents' hotel, and while he didn't go to sleep until 10 PM, he only woke up once during the night (he still took an hour or so waking several times to wake up, but I don't consider it night-waking once the sun is coming up). Then Sunday, yesterday, we went on a walk which ended up as a lake visit (his choice) and in addition to just being outdoors playing, he actually walked 1.23 miles!
He'd asked me to bring a stroller or his bike, but I'd found a "secret" trail (formerly unbeknownst to us) that is super close to our house and that attaches to the Canyonlands trail shown above. It's not laid out like the official trail, and we couldn't have gotten anything with wheels (except maybe a jogging stroller, which I don't have, because let's get real) over it. He handled the distance like a champ until the last hill from the lake to the house, so I did carry him about 1 block on my shoulders.
Mal really surprised me with how brave he was in the water Saturday! He's always been very intent on my being close by. This time, though, everyone was heading down to the pool while I still needed to change into my swimsuit. Mal went with my sister, and was in the water by the time I got there. He started "swimming" in the zero-depth entry, but by the end, was heading into the 4 foot water without me.
I'm hoping to sign him up for swim lessons this summer. This gives me more hope than I had before, because I was a little concerned he wouldn't go into the water without me.
Finally, in a bit of irony... I mentioned in my last post that I typically get <30 views per post now that I'm off FB. Someone apparently shared that post on FB, and I was back up to >200 again. Ha!
Friday, April 6, 2018
More Stuff Mal Says
Lately, chatting with my little is an absolute hoot. What comes out of his mouth belies so much of what's taking place in his mysterious mind. So here are some examples I want to remember.
The other day, Mal asked me to go do something with him, to which I agreed. He lit up and said, "Really, you will?! That'll be precious!"
One night he wanted to make pancakes, so we just threw stuff into a bowl and every time he had an idea of something we should put in (mostly food coloring), he pronounced, "It will be FAB-uh-luss!" Over and over again.
Today at Little Land, Mal was obsessing over the 18-month-and-under play area, affronted because there was a kid in there who was over 18 months. I told him that I was sure it was because he had a smaller sibling in there with his mom. This conversation started, beginning with Mal:
I wish I had a baby so I could go in there!
You want a baby?!
I could be a babysitter.
Yes, if you were a babysitter, you could go in with your baby. Maybe when you get a little older.
I'm getting bigger right now!
But you need to be a little more mature before you can take care of a baby.
I can be a babysitter.
Okay, if you were a babysitter and your baby didn't feel good, what would you do?
Hug it.
What if the baby were hungry?
I'd give it breakfast.
What's breakfast for a baby?
A Popsicle.
What would you do if the baby threw up?
I'd clean it up.
What if you needed help? Who would you call?
Spiderman.
The other day, Mal asked me to go do something with him, to which I agreed. He lit up and said, "Really, you will?! That'll be precious!"
+++
One night he wanted to make pancakes, so we just threw stuff into a bowl and every time he had an idea of something we should put in (mostly food coloring), he pronounced, "It will be FAB-uh-luss!" Over and over again.
+++
Today at Little Land, Mal was obsessing over the 18-month-and-under play area, affronted because there was a kid in there who was over 18 months. I told him that I was sure it was because he had a smaller sibling in there with his mom. This conversation started, beginning with Mal:
I wish I had a baby so I could go in there!
You want a baby?!
I could be a babysitter.
Yes, if you were a babysitter, you could go in with your baby. Maybe when you get a little older.
I'm getting bigger right now!
But you need to be a little more mature before you can take care of a baby.
I can be a babysitter.
Okay, if you were a babysitter and your baby didn't feel good, what would you do?
Hug it.
What if the baby were hungry?
I'd give it breakfast.
What's breakfast for a baby?
A Popsicle.
What would you do if the baby threw up?
I'd clean it up.
What if you needed help? Who would you call?
Spiderman.
+++
James and I have discussed lately the unfair reality experienced by most families: That the kids go to the mom for EVERYTHING, regardless of which parent it would be more convenient to approach. Today, James and I were both hanging out, lying on the master bed, while Mal played with his cars in "Radiator Springs" (the cat condo). He said, "Mommy! Wake up!" I suggested, "Why don't you ask Daddy to wake up?" He reasonably answered, "Mommy, no! Daddy's sleeping!"
Then James laughed so hard he cried, and the same again later in the day when I brought it up again.
+++
Along the same lines, later I was working in the kitchen. Mal had gone to the back restroom and passed his dad in the hall to come ask me to help him put his underpants back on. I told him to go ask hi Dad to help as I was in the middle of something. He went to the back of the house yelling, "Daddy! I need Mommy!"
+++
Mal wanted mashed potatoes the other night, and the only potatoes I had were little new potatoes that had been cooked in a beef stew. Because of the carrots and tomatoes, the potatoes did have an orange tint, but I made extremely tasty mashed potatoes out of them and handed them to Mal. He received them with, "This isn't right. Try again, Mom."
+++
In pulling out his desk chair, Mal accidentally knocked it over. Very understatedly, he said, "My beautiful plan... Ruined."
+++
We were eating with my parents recently, and Mal asked my dad something. Dad responded genuinely, but Mal thought he'd said something about boogers. Mal reprimanded him, "Pappy, don't be a jerk."
+++
I think on these things when I'm lamenting how tired I am, how hopeful we were when we removed caffeine from Mal's diet and he was sleeping hours on end for a while but we're back to the same or worse than usual, or how monotonous so much of parenting a tiny person can be. It's also very rewarding and outright hysterically funny much of the time. I'm grateful to get to accompany this kid through his days.
Wednesday, March 14, 2018
A Day in the Life of My Little
Usually, Mal wakes up with his computer, like some grown-ups do coffee. But today, he jumped headlong into playing, and just did not stop all day. So here are some pictures of the way his days usually go. Spoiler alert: There is lots and lots of Disney's Cars.
A lot of times, after he's played Cars, he adds in other stuff. Here, we're playing fire station Cars.
Here, he's acting out a racing scene from Cars 3.
At this point, we'd gotten dressed and were playing Cars for a minute, then would read "A Very Hungry Caterpillar," comparing the pictures in the book to our refrigerator magnets. We read it at least half a dozen times.
Then Mal brought in the "marble maze" he does with his dad's carboy and funnel.
Mal is making a "pathway" with the bulldozer, then he used the marbles as a track outline to race the... yes... Cars.
Outside break, because it's a GORGEOUS day!
He was "hiding" from me.
We moved to the back yard to play for a while.
We ended up at Veteran's Memorial Park for an hour.
Then we went to the sculpture garden.
We met James at Logan's Roadhouse for dinner, then James took Mal to Target to get some soda, and Mal talked James into buying... MORE CARS.
So when Mal got home, we had to get out the Paw Patrol track to use as a racetrack.
He did finally watch TV for about half an hour, then took James into his room to play for a while. He finished up the night by playing "Cars get stuck in the 'mud'" (play dough).
When he was finally ready to go to bed, it took about 4 minutes. But most days, it's non-stop from wake-up to falling to sleep!
Thanks for spending our day with us!
Monday, February 12, 2018
Days of Wonder and Magic
This is such a fun time to be a parent, I think. Almost every day, we get to see Mal putting something new together. His way of processing it is so sweet and funny; we laugh a lot, and James and I have a lot to share as we experience him so differently on our own.
For instance, the other day, Mal was playing with this cash register he's had forever. It has a little calculator display screen, and he was putting in a number, then he'd open the register, and take money out. It took a couple of times for me to realize what he was doing, including my just typing in a 7 and his telling me that wasn't how to do it.
That was when I put it together: He'd press the "1," which would show up on the screen, then he'd clear it out, open the till, and pull out a one dollar bill. Next, he typed in "5," saw it on the screen, cleared it out, opened the till, and pulled out a five dollar bill. That was when I tried the 7, but he wasn't having it.
He cleared that out, looked at the pad, and asked me, "How do you do ten?" I said, "Press the 1." He did. "Now press the zero." He did, and looked at the result, then beamed that it had worked! Then he opened the drawer and took out a ten dollar bill.
After that, he'd type in numbers to see if I could do what he was putting in. Nothing crazy, just $90 or $40. At one point, he put in 0.0, so I told him to add a 1, and I pulled out a penny, explaining that's how you write it.
He stayed interested for a long time. Finally, after James got home and we were chatting, Mal played with it by himself long enough to bring up the "E" (for error), and asked how to make it do an "a." We had to explain that "e" is the only letter it has, and he worked for a while to try to get it to come back up.
That's Flo. We got her last weekend, after James had finished a couple of weeks of his new job. Mal asked for so many things when James was unemployed, and we said no so much more often than usual. Mal is thrilled to have a few more Cars cars. He plays with them every day.
In fact, he has a whole laundry list of toys he trots out every day, some times a couple of times a day: The Cars 2 set, plus any extras he's acquired (but we've lost Carla Veloso and Holly Shiftwell, sadly); his Star Wars Micro Machines sets; PJ Masks; the Star Wars Hot Wheels Death Star set; and some type of "egg challenge." Mal watches those toy videos on YouTube, so he likes for us to hide the toys he already has either in plastic eggs, or in play dough.
He's still pretty bossy about the scripting of the scenes, but is getting better at improvising, too. His imagination is incredible, and as a result, he's starting to have vivid "stories," or dreams.
The other night, he woke up terrified, saying, "I don't like the jungle! I don't want to go there!" I told him we wouldn't. He said, "The koala was trying to eat my foot!" I assured him a koala wouldn't try to eat his foot. He said, "And an alligator." Me: ...
We had a long, busy day today, as we ran a bunch of places and then James took part in a 2-hour focus group after work. We were in Mal's room playing this evening when he had all of his PJ Masks out on his table, along with his sack of Hot Wheels cars. He asked me to pull out several specific cars he likes to use with his characters, and I told him he could do it himself.
Mal said, "I can't! I have to finish some work first!"
Then he put his hands up on the table and mimed typing, vocalizing, "Beep, beep, blooop, beep, blorp..." for a few moments, before announcing, "I'm finished! Now I can play!"
I got the cars out for him.
On a likely-related note, yesterday at different times, I was trying to finish and file our taxes, and fill out paperwork to transfer the title to our new car, and a couple of other administrative things. Mal was still wanting to talk to me (I incorrectly wrote a number I know by heart) and bounce around on the chair I was sitting in. I kept asking him to PLEASE step away and that I'd play with him as soon as I was finished with what I was doing.
There's so much more, but I promised I wouldn't stay up until 1 AM again tonight. Looks like I'm a liar.
That's another thing: Mal has taken to going to bed around 11 PM and waking up at 9:30ish (with the normal nighttime rousings). Today I got my chores done before he was out of bed, and the other day I showered, which is nice. But I'm more of an early-to-bed/early-to-rise kind of gal, and it seems like a lot of things we want to do are earlier. Like a free breakfast from Chick-fil-A.
Maybe it's a season. He used to go by daylight, so at the beginning of winter, he was going to bed super early. Now that he's used to staying awake 4-5 hours after the sun goes down, I'm a bit concerned about this summer!
For instance, the other day, Mal was playing with this cash register he's had forever. It has a little calculator display screen, and he was putting in a number, then he'd open the register, and take money out. It took a couple of times for me to realize what he was doing, including my just typing in a 7 and his telling me that wasn't how to do it.
That was when I put it together: He'd press the "1," which would show up on the screen, then he'd clear it out, open the till, and pull out a one dollar bill. Next, he typed in "5," saw it on the screen, cleared it out, opened the till, and pulled out a five dollar bill. That was when I tried the 7, but he wasn't having it.
He cleared that out, looked at the pad, and asked me, "How do you do ten?" I said, "Press the 1." He did. "Now press the zero." He did, and looked at the result, then beamed that it had worked! Then he opened the drawer and took out a ten dollar bill.
After that, he'd type in numbers to see if I could do what he was putting in. Nothing crazy, just $90 or $40. At one point, he put in 0.0, so I told him to add a 1, and I pulled out a penny, explaining that's how you write it.
He stayed interested for a long time. Finally, after James got home and we were chatting, Mal played with it by himself long enough to bring up the "E" (for error), and asked how to make it do an "a." We had to explain that "e" is the only letter it has, and he worked for a while to try to get it to come back up.
That's Flo. We got her last weekend, after James had finished a couple of weeks of his new job. Mal asked for so many things when James was unemployed, and we said no so much more often than usual. Mal is thrilled to have a few more Cars cars. He plays with them every day.
In fact, he has a whole laundry list of toys he trots out every day, some times a couple of times a day: The Cars 2 set, plus any extras he's acquired (but we've lost Carla Veloso and Holly Shiftwell, sadly); his Star Wars Micro Machines sets; PJ Masks; the Star Wars Hot Wheels Death Star set; and some type of "egg challenge." Mal watches those toy videos on YouTube, so he likes for us to hide the toys he already has either in plastic eggs, or in play dough.
He's still pretty bossy about the scripting of the scenes, but is getting better at improvising, too. His imagination is incredible, and as a result, he's starting to have vivid "stories," or dreams.
The other night, he woke up terrified, saying, "I don't like the jungle! I don't want to go there!" I told him we wouldn't. He said, "The koala was trying to eat my foot!" I assured him a koala wouldn't try to eat his foot. He said, "And an alligator." Me: ...
We had a long, busy day today, as we ran a bunch of places and then James took part in a 2-hour focus group after work. We were in Mal's room playing this evening when he had all of his PJ Masks out on his table, along with his sack of Hot Wheels cars. He asked me to pull out several specific cars he likes to use with his characters, and I told him he could do it himself.
Mal said, "I can't! I have to finish some work first!"
Then he put his hands up on the table and mimed typing, vocalizing, "Beep, beep, blooop, beep, blorp..." for a few moments, before announcing, "I'm finished! Now I can play!"
I got the cars out for him.
On a likely-related note, yesterday at different times, I was trying to finish and file our taxes, and fill out paperwork to transfer the title to our new car, and a couple of other administrative things. Mal was still wanting to talk to me (I incorrectly wrote a number I know by heart) and bounce around on the chair I was sitting in. I kept asking him to PLEASE step away and that I'd play with him as soon as I was finished with what I was doing.
There's so much more, but I promised I wouldn't stay up until 1 AM again tonight. Looks like I'm a liar.
That's another thing: Mal has taken to going to bed around 11 PM and waking up at 9:30ish (with the normal nighttime rousings). Today I got my chores done before he was out of bed, and the other day I showered, which is nice. But I'm more of an early-to-bed/early-to-rise kind of gal, and it seems like a lot of things we want to do are earlier. Like a free breakfast from Chick-fil-A.
Maybe it's a season. He used to go by daylight, so at the beginning of winter, he was going to bed super early. Now that he's used to staying awake 4-5 hours after the sun goes down, I'm a bit concerned about this summer!
Tuesday, January 9, 2018
Sleep Records
Hey! It's our first blog of the new year. Happy 2018, internets!
Today, we're going to take a brief look at Mal's sleeping habits, which I chronicled this week just for (morbid) curiosity's sake.
TUESDAY, 1/2/18: Sleep time 9:30 PM. 11 wakings; 2 he fell back to sleep on his own and 9 required my intervention.
WEDNESDAY, 1/3/18: 10:00 PM. 9 wakings, all of which required my input. 4 and 6 took a LONG time, both sides, etc.
THURSDAY, 1/4/18: 8:30 PM. 6ish; 3 and 6 involved mid-nursing dozing and were pretty drawn out.
FRIDAY, 1/5/18: 7:15 PM, in the car. 10 wake-ups, plus one as we were coming in from the car. 1st wake-up of the night in bed, he fell back to sleep on his own.
SATURDAY, 1/6/18: 9:45 PM. 6 wakings; 1 he fell asleep on his own.
SUNDAY, 1/7/18: 9:00 PM. 6ish times.
MONDAY, 1/8/18: 8:40 PM. 7ish times.
The reason I say "ish" is because of two things: 1) Sometimes he'll wake up, nurse, doze off, and within a few moments awake again asking for more "deedees" before I've fallen back to sleep. I don't know whether to count that as 2 wake-ups or 1. 2) If it's starting to get light out, and it's late enough that if he didn't go back to sleep, we could get up, anyway, I usually just stop counting. I consider it more of his "wake-up" routine than his over night routine.
So, basically, I was awakened about 55 times during the past week. Make you feel better about your life?
On the up side, Mal is sometimes extremely funny when he wakes up (or sleep talks, or whatever he's doing). Here are some things he's said in the middle of the night:
"Mommy, oh good. We're safe now."
"Mommy, where are you?" "Right here." "No, Daddy, I want Mommy."
"I saw Chewbacca, but he said, 'I am Mal,' not 'I am Chewbacca.'"
"Were you swimming at Walmart just now?"
"Mommy, deedees." "No, we are going to wait a while." "Mommmy, deedees!" "Mal, we're going to wait just a few minutes." "Mommy! Soda! NOW!" (We had some and I let him have it! He drank like he was hiking in the desert, too.)
Also, he's started basically yelling when he wakes up and needs my attention. I have to remind him that I'm right there and there's no need to speak as though we're across a busy basketball arena from one another.
James asked if I felt better worse now that I've done this, because if I hadn't, I would have said he averages 4-6 wake-ups a night, and it's obviously higher than that. I told him neither, but I'm glad to have a baseline and will journal it again in six months to see if there's any improvement.
The other day, I was on the phone with my friend, Adrienne, and trying to say the word "reciprocity." I could not land on it, but she knew what I meant and pronounced it for me... and it still took me three tries to say it correctly! It is times like these when I feel like I'm having a mini-stroke and just have to remind myself of the reality of this sleep chronicle. I'm sure I'll regain my vocabulary and sense at some point in the future. Right?
Today, we're going to take a brief look at Mal's sleeping habits, which I chronicled this week just for (morbid) curiosity's sake.
 |
| Carol, spending a rare moment with Mal, whom she typically avoids with a passion. |
WEDNESDAY, 1/3/18: 10:00 PM. 9 wakings, all of which required my input. 4 and 6 took a LONG time, both sides, etc.
THURSDAY, 1/4/18: 8:30 PM. 6ish; 3 and 6 involved mid-nursing dozing and were pretty drawn out.
FRIDAY, 1/5/18: 7:15 PM, in the car. 10 wake-ups, plus one as we were coming in from the car. 1st wake-up of the night in bed, he fell back to sleep on his own.
SATURDAY, 1/6/18: 9:45 PM. 6 wakings; 1 he fell asleep on his own.
SUNDAY, 1/7/18: 9:00 PM. 6ish times.
MONDAY, 1/8/18: 8:40 PM. 7ish times.
The reason I say "ish" is because of two things: 1) Sometimes he'll wake up, nurse, doze off, and within a few moments awake again asking for more "deedees" before I've fallen back to sleep. I don't know whether to count that as 2 wake-ups or 1. 2) If it's starting to get light out, and it's late enough that if he didn't go back to sleep, we could get up, anyway, I usually just stop counting. I consider it more of his "wake-up" routine than his over night routine.
So, basically, I was awakened about 55 times during the past week. Make you feel better about your life?
On the up side, Mal is sometimes extremely funny when he wakes up (or sleep talks, or whatever he's doing). Here are some things he's said in the middle of the night:
"Mommy, oh good. We're safe now."
"Mommy, where are you?" "Right here." "No, Daddy, I want Mommy."
"I saw Chewbacca, but he said, 'I am Mal,' not 'I am Chewbacca.'"
"Were you swimming at Walmart just now?"
"Mommy, deedees." "No, we are going to wait a while." "Mommmy, deedees!" "Mal, we're going to wait just a few minutes." "Mommy! Soda! NOW!" (We had some and I let him have it! He drank like he was hiking in the desert, too.)
Also, he's started basically yelling when he wakes up and needs my attention. I have to remind him that I'm right there and there's no need to speak as though we're across a busy basketball arena from one another.
James asked if I felt better worse now that I've done this, because if I hadn't, I would have said he averages 4-6 wake-ups a night, and it's obviously higher than that. I told him neither, but I'm glad to have a baseline and will journal it again in six months to see if there's any improvement.
The other day, I was on the phone with my friend, Adrienne, and trying to say the word "reciprocity." I could not land on it, but she knew what I meant and pronounced it for me... and it still took me three tries to say it correctly! It is times like these when I feel like I'm having a mini-stroke and just have to remind myself of the reality of this sleep chronicle. I'm sure I'll regain my vocabulary and sense at some point in the future. Right?
Wednesday, December 27, 2017
Decoding and Interstellar Visitors
When we were sitting in the car waiting for D to emerge from Dr. Who: Twice Upon a Time, Mal seemed to be zoning out, talking to himself. Then I realized what he was doing: "C... I... N... E... M... A... R... K."
He has been obsessed lately with "starts with." He'll get it wrong as often as he gets it right, but this morning when he was talking to James, he did something he's never done before: He spelled his name. They were talking about words that start with "m" and James said, "Your name starts with 'm.'" "M-A-L."
Along with this interest in spelling, he's just recognizing tons of corporate logos. Gosh, we're so... proud? Anyway, we can't sneak anywhere because he knows more than "French fry," which is how he used to refer to McDonald's AND Sonic. Also, we might eat fast food too much.
Guess what else? Mal has a new friend, and that guy is a bad influence.
It started the other day, when Mal wanted more Oreos but had eaten a whole row of them already. I told him that we needed to save some for the rest of the family. Mal went into our bedroom, came back, and said, "He told me I could have more Oreos." I asked, "Who? Your dad?" James had been with me in the kitchen the whole time. Mal said, "No. Him. Audie-ah-Poddy." "Well, tell him he's wrong. You cannot have any more."
Then yesterday, after I explained for the bazillionth time that he can't have more than two vitamins, Mal said, "He said yes." "I said no. Sorry. It can be dangerous to take too many vitamins." "Audie-ah-Poddy said yes. He's an alien." Oookay.
Finally, tonight the alien told him he could take his new Tonka micro fire station into Chick-fil-A after I'd said it was a bad idea because there were so many small parts. What a jerk that guy is.
Last night, in the bathtub, Mal was asking about aliens. He asked whether they were human, and I told him it depended. We talked about extraterrestrials and about anyone in a foreign place. He mused over it for a moment and said thoughtfully, "I love human aliens. They're so interesting to me." But I think he meant ETs, because then he said he wanted to go to Roswell (which he only knows from a 30-second video my parents took of some space creatures getting ready to beam off the planet). I had to promise him we'd go some time, but it probably won't be until he's 10 or so. Fortunately, he's still a bit gun-shy, so he's fine with waiting.
At the end of his bath, which is turning into a semi-eternal affair every dang day, Mal let the water out while he was still in the tub. He wanted to see the "tornado," then still just sat there after the water was gone. I asked him if he wanted to get out, because it was pretty chilly, but he said no. A couple of minutes later, he hollered out, "Oh no! I don't have balls anymore!" James assured him they'd reappear when he warmed up.
I think of a million things I want to write down during the day, but it's 12:20 AM and I think I'm done for now. I need to start jotting stuff down so I can remember it once I finally get to sit down for a hot minute, which feels less and less likely lately. Good night, friends!
He has been obsessed lately with "starts with." He'll get it wrong as often as he gets it right, but this morning when he was talking to James, he did something he's never done before: He spelled his name. They were talking about words that start with "m" and James said, "Your name starts with 'm.'" "M-A-L."
Along with this interest in spelling, he's just recognizing tons of corporate logos. Gosh, we're so... proud? Anyway, we can't sneak anywhere because he knows more than "French fry," which is how he used to refer to McDonald's AND Sonic. Also, we might eat fast food too much.
Guess what else? Mal has a new friend, and that guy is a bad influence.
It started the other day, when Mal wanted more Oreos but had eaten a whole row of them already. I told him that we needed to save some for the rest of the family. Mal went into our bedroom, came back, and said, "He told me I could have more Oreos." I asked, "Who? Your dad?" James had been with me in the kitchen the whole time. Mal said, "No. Him. Audie-ah-Poddy." "Well, tell him he's wrong. You cannot have any more."
Then yesterday, after I explained for the bazillionth time that he can't have more than two vitamins, Mal said, "He said yes." "I said no. Sorry. It can be dangerous to take too many vitamins." "Audie-ah-Poddy said yes. He's an alien." Oookay.
Finally, tonight the alien told him he could take his new Tonka micro fire station into Chick-fil-A after I'd said it was a bad idea because there were so many small parts. What a jerk that guy is.
Last night, in the bathtub, Mal was asking about aliens. He asked whether they were human, and I told him it depended. We talked about extraterrestrials and about anyone in a foreign place. He mused over it for a moment and said thoughtfully, "I love human aliens. They're so interesting to me." But I think he meant ETs, because then he said he wanted to go to Roswell (which he only knows from a 30-second video my parents took of some space creatures getting ready to beam off the planet). I had to promise him we'd go some time, but it probably won't be until he's 10 or so. Fortunately, he's still a bit gun-shy, so he's fine with waiting.
At the end of his bath, which is turning into a semi-eternal affair every dang day, Mal let the water out while he was still in the tub. He wanted to see the "tornado," then still just sat there after the water was gone. I asked him if he wanted to get out, because it was pretty chilly, but he said no. A couple of minutes later, he hollered out, "Oh no! I don't have balls anymore!" James assured him they'd reappear when he warmed up.
I think of a million things I want to write down during the day, but it's 12:20 AM and I think I'm done for now. I need to start jotting stuff down so I can remember it once I finally get to sit down for a hot minute, which feels less and less likely lately. Good night, friends!
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
Mal's Three-Year-Old Brain
This morning, Mal and I had a long drive all the way through Austin to meet my sister and nephew at Altitude Jump Park. We were listening to Weird Al's "Mandatory Fun" album, which has been Mal's recent favorite, and of which I approve, especially after six months of the single "Music Together" CD that's been his go-to.
As an aside, his favorite song is "Sports Song," which has a bridge that repeats, "We're great and you suck" over and over again. When he was belting this at the grocery store yesterday, I can only imagine the admiration other people had for my parenting prowess.
Today, though, at the beginning of the requisite polka, Mal asked, "Mom, do you hear the accordion?" I did. A few minutes later, "Do you hear the trumpet?" That one impressed me because it was muted. Then when we went back to "Sports Song," he asked, "Do you hear the xylophone?" It's specifically a glockenspiel, but that's a xylophone, so it counts. Then he asked, "And now you hear the drums?"
I was really amazed. James has an app on his phone that has different instruments, a sample (sometimes pretty bad) of the sound, and then the name (which is pronounced by an autobot voice, so often mispronounced, or just wrong -- i.e. a djembe is called a bongo). Regardless of the quality of every portion of the app, Mal loves it. He scrolls through it and goes back and forward to his favorites. He actually has used it a lot less recently than he did six months ago or so, but apparently it's stuck.
Two days ago, this video popped up in my Facebook memories. It is from last year, and shows Mal running up and down the hall at our hotel in Waco on our way home from the State Fair of Texas (which we're missing this year; sigh). What struck me, aside from the fact that he just has always had a crap ton of energy, is that he was basically non-verbal. He says, "Daddy," and something else that might be "fast" or might be something he made up. He does the sign for "cry" and makes a vocalized motor noise to indicate the elevator. But he just wasn't talking yet. He had just turned two. The "average" vocabulary at that age is 50-75 words, and adding more daily. He just didn't have that. We weren't worried, though, because he knew a bunch of signs, and we knew he could understand us.
Cut to exactly a year later, and I couldn't count how many words he knows. He talks all the time. He knows all of the words. Take-away from this: Don't waste too much concern on milestones if you don't have other reasons to worry.
Mal has very strong opinions about how things should be. If I rearrange the colored chairs at the table in his room after I've vacuumed, he says, "You made a 'stake!" and puts them back the way they were before, which, of course, was completely arbitrary in the first place. He has a set of "rainbow" drawers in his toy cubby, and when James purposefully rearranges them, Mal tells me, "Daddy just made a 'stake!" and fixes it.
One of his funniest (to me) insistences is that I am not to wipe his nose when he's crying. If he's particularly snotty, I'll ask, "Do you want me to wipe your nose?" He'll say, "No! I want to cry!" I tell him that he can still cry, but it doesn't matter. There have been a couple of times that what has come out of his nostril is so gross, I insist and swipe it. He says, "You took away my cry! I wanted to cry!" For some reason, those things are connected.
Mal really seems to like lists. I posted a video to Facebook tonight of him going through is Star Wars workbooks, naming every character on front. He does the same thing with the Cars 2 set Nana and Pappy got him for his birthday. He also does it with a set of print-outs of Paw Patrol characters we have. He also likes to "count" things, although, even though he can count out loud, it's sometimes difficult for him to keep track of what he did and didn't count. If he skips over something, he'll usually come back, but then he'll recount whatever is after that that he did already count. I show great restraint in not explaining that he made a "'stake."
Cute times. I love this age so much! He's still an energetic handful, but, gosh, he's funny.
As an aside, his favorite song is "Sports Song," which has a bridge that repeats, "We're great and you suck" over and over again. When he was belting this at the grocery store yesterday, I can only imagine the admiration other people had for my parenting prowess.
Today, though, at the beginning of the requisite polka, Mal asked, "Mom, do you hear the accordion?" I did. A few minutes later, "Do you hear the trumpet?" That one impressed me because it was muted. Then when we went back to "Sports Song," he asked, "Do you hear the xylophone?" It's specifically a glockenspiel, but that's a xylophone, so it counts. Then he asked, "And now you hear the drums?"
I was really amazed. James has an app on his phone that has different instruments, a sample (sometimes pretty bad) of the sound, and then the name (which is pronounced by an autobot voice, so often mispronounced, or just wrong -- i.e. a djembe is called a bongo). Regardless of the quality of every portion of the app, Mal loves it. He scrolls through it and goes back and forward to his favorites. He actually has used it a lot less recently than he did six months ago or so, but apparently it's stuck.
Two days ago, this video popped up in my Facebook memories. It is from last year, and shows Mal running up and down the hall at our hotel in Waco on our way home from the State Fair of Texas (which we're missing this year; sigh). What struck me, aside from the fact that he just has always had a crap ton of energy, is that he was basically non-verbal. He says, "Daddy," and something else that might be "fast" or might be something he made up. He does the sign for "cry" and makes a vocalized motor noise to indicate the elevator. But he just wasn't talking yet. He had just turned two. The "average" vocabulary at that age is 50-75 words, and adding more daily. He just didn't have that. We weren't worried, though, because he knew a bunch of signs, and we knew he could understand us.
Cut to exactly a year later, and I couldn't count how many words he knows. He talks all the time. He knows all of the words. Take-away from this: Don't waste too much concern on milestones if you don't have other reasons to worry.
 |
| "All aboooooooard!" |
One of his funniest (to me) insistences is that I am not to wipe his nose when he's crying. If he's particularly snotty, I'll ask, "Do you want me to wipe your nose?" He'll say, "No! I want to cry!" I tell him that he can still cry, but it doesn't matter. There have been a couple of times that what has come out of his nostril is so gross, I insist and swipe it. He says, "You took away my cry! I wanted to cry!" For some reason, those things are connected.
Mal really seems to like lists. I posted a video to Facebook tonight of him going through is Star Wars workbooks, naming every character on front. He does the same thing with the Cars 2 set Nana and Pappy got him for his birthday. He also does it with a set of print-outs of Paw Patrol characters we have. He also likes to "count" things, although, even though he can count out loud, it's sometimes difficult for him to keep track of what he did and didn't count. If he skips over something, he'll usually come back, but then he'll recount whatever is after that that he did already count. I show great restraint in not explaining that he made a "'stake."
Cute times. I love this age so much! He's still an energetic handful, but, gosh, he's funny.
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