International Breastfeeding Awareness Month is in August. When it rolled around in 2015, I was both pleased I was still breastfeeding after almost a year, and tired... of breastfeeding. I was unable to nurse D at all because of a tongue-tie (and my unwillingness to mechanically intervene to address the tie) and especially since Mal was so so fussy his first couple of years, was pleased to have this tool at my disposal this round. Not to mention the savings we must have realized (or not realized, but sustained) not having to purchase formula. We did buy a few bottles, but by 4 months, I'd thrown them out. Mal has drunk one 4-ounce bottle in his whole life. Otherwise, it was all me.
I was more along the lines of "whatever" in 2016 when Breastfeeding Awareness Month rolled around and we were still going at it. I mean, the World Health Organization recommends feeding for at least 2 and up to 7 years, based on several criteria. Mostly, I wanted it to be Mal's choice to stop when he was ready, and at two years old, he was definitely not ready.
When I went to meet the resident pediatrician in early 2017, after we'd moved into our new house, he asked what kind of milk Mal was drinking. I told him and he said, "Oh, well, you can stop that any time. We definitely don't want to see that in a 3-year-old or especially a 4-year-old!" So I didn't go back to that doctor, even though I liked him.
Without a good reason, I wasn't going to force Mal to stop nursing. Even though I was way over it.
After he turned 3, Mal only nursed when he was going to bed or waking up, or when he was really, really upset or tired. And the reality is that before Mal was about three and a half, he'd never gone to sleep without nursing, unless he was in motion in a vehicle or stroller. I tried several things, but nothing else ever worked.
Breastfeeding Awareness Months 2017 and 2018 rolled by, and I didn't really notice. I was well aware. I was also pretty much dried up. I had a little milk left on one side, but Mal was clearly nursing solely for comfort. And, once again, though I was getting pretty sick of it, I didn't have that nursing aversion where women report their skin crawling and their wanting to punch something. I just started cutting it off after a minute or so.
Also, people who say that once a child is getting the majority of their sustenance from food and are just nursing for comfort so shut them off... Do they have that attitude about everything that brings their child comfort? "Oh, come on. You don't NEED this doll to go to sleep. It's a bunch of cotton stuffed into a rag that was sewn together. You just want it for comfort, ya big baby." I couldn't do it.
I was waiting to get to a point where the pain (physical discomfort, embarrassment, etc.) outweighed the benefits (easier bedtime, continued bonding, etc.). But it turns out, I didn't really have to.
As of now, it's been one week since "deedees." I think, friends, that I can call it: We're done!
Mal has asked a couple of times, but it was a good 4 days before he thought of it. And when he's asked, I've said, "Not right now, but let's snuggle" and he might persist a little, but eventually happily moves on.
I'm glad we didn't have to do it through nights of crying and begging. I'm glad I didn't have to lie to him about how he's so big, it doesn't "work" anymore. I'm glad I didn't shame him about being too big. I'm glad I didn't manipulate it, except to limit the time for my own sanity. I'm glad it sort of ebbed out because the time was right.
Someone asked me if I would miss it. Maybe some day. Like 15 years from now. Maybe. It's hard to imagine missing it, honestly. Maybe it's too soon to be sentimental about it. Right now, I'm just happy and relieved. I mean, I'm happy it's over, but I'm also happy for all of the reasons I detailed above. I feel like we did it well and ended gently.
If you've used any of the methods I described above, I'm not judging you. I get it. It's tough! It's weird that it was literally feast or famine, too. Might have been nice to do 2 years with each kid instead.
Another thing that has happened over the past 6 monthsish is that Mal is actually sleeping through the night. I mean, he doesn't go to sleep until 12:30 AM, but once he's asleep, he only wakes up like all of us do, mumbling a bit, turning over, asking for a blanket, going right back to sleep. That's huge. I really thought it would never happen. I mean, I understand it generally *does* happen, but not all kids ever actually sleep through well. I firmly believed we'd be one of those families. I'm grateful I appear to have been wrong.
Finally, a year after ditching diapers in the daytime, we're totally done with them! Mal will have the occasional overnight accident, as all children do, but during the transition, he surprised me. I'd often think, "He went to sleep so early; there's no way!" and would sneak a pull-up onto him; then he'd be dry in the morning, but immediately use the restroom upon waking.
So lots of cool developments!
I genuinely thought that when Daylight Saving ended this weekend, we'd get a reprieve from the 12:30 bedtime. Sleeping 11:30 to 9 seemed a lot better than 12:30 to 10, just because 1) I am DEAD by 12:30, and 2) stuff starts by 10 and we only sporadically make it to things like church and story time at the library. But, no. He absorbed that extra hour like it was nothing, so by the next day, he was right back on the clock.
But with the milestones we're erecting, I have to focus on the good stuff. There is plenty of it. Even running on fumes at 10 AM.
Showing posts with label toddler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toddler. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 7, 2018
Sunday, September 17, 2017
Mal at (Almost) 3
A week from today, we'll have a newly-minted 3-year-old. Things are likely to accelerate this week, with visitors and errands and appointments and preparations, so I thought I'd take this opportunity to reflect over this auspicious occasion. I'm going to intersperse the unorganized thoughts with pictures I pulled off of the memory card in Mal's camera. All of these have been taken by him at some point during the past year (and, honestly, the vast majority of these photos are the fans in our various rooms and of our patio flooring... so, yeah, I'm cherry-picking).
Mal's vocabulary has exploded this year. He was certainly not "at level" when he turned 2, which is something like 75-200 words. But now, he pretty much knows all of the words and uses them correctly, including sarcastically and manipulatively. But as conversational as he is now, there are three "baby" phrases that have persisted: 1) boh-bos, for breasts; 2) dee-dees, for breastfeeding, his take on "nursies;" 3) la-la, which is to say "the other one," or "You're trying to put that shoe on the wrong foot; try the other one." All we have to say is "la-la" and he'll stop trying to put his shoes on and he changes feet. Or he'll look at me and ask, "La-la?" I say, "No, that's the right one."
Mal has experienced so many milestones this year, in addition to the verbal explosion.
The first time I visited my new church after we moved, it was January 1, and hardly anyone was there. The next week, they had childcare. At 2 years and a few months, Mal had still never stayed in childcare throughout the church service. I dropped him off, giving the attendant my cell number so she could message me if Mal decided he was through. I never got a text. He stayed the next week. And the next. And he has never looked back. In fact, in August when we had our student-led worship and so there wasn't "class," he cried, bitterly disappointed. He loves his playtime, and I love being able to participate in church for the first time in years.
Basically, he adores our church. From the minute we get on campus, he rushes to check to see whether the fountain is on or not. Typically, it isn't on yet when we arrive, but someone turns it on later. Somehow, in his brain, Mal has associated the piano music happening with the fountain being turned on, and he assumes that Darlene playing the piano is what activates it.
Then, as we head inside, he acts shy but loves being greeted by "Miss Jackie." Once we're in the sanctuary, he runs over to the coffee table to pick out a doughnut (usually pink or white frosted with sprinkles) and one chocolate doughnut hole. During the beginning of the service, he often goes into the "youth room" to hug the giant teddy bear or play with the foosball set. And he likes to get a name tag to "fill out"... and cut up.
When it's time to pass the peace of Christ, Mal usually says to me, "Mommy, hold me! I want to get peace!" He will high-five people and be generally charming, if, again, somewhat subdued by direct attention.
He's gotten to where he will sit in my lap for the children's message, and even hold hands during the prayer afterwards. But his favorite part is when that's over, Darlene plays "Jesus Loves Me," and he knows that's the signal that he can run into the other building for free play. (Sorry; he's not very spiritually mature.)
As physical as Mal is, gymnastics seems like it might be as good a fit for him as it was for D at this age. However, we took a free trial class a week and a half ago, and it was exhausting... for me. Mal just isn't ready to (or isn't in the practice of) pay attention to a sequence of instructions, then line up, wait his turn, and remember the instructions. They had about 40 minutes of structured class time, then 20 minutes of free play. He really enjoyed the free play, but not on their gym equipment! They have a big toy/book area where the kids can do stuff while they're waiting, and that's what he chose to do.
One issue I had with the class setup was that there were just too many kids. It might have been because it was the first class of the session, and a lot of people were like us, trying it out. But for a few kids, including mine, it was difficult staying focused in the long stretches between "turns." And there were only two adults: the coach and an assistant. So several of us parents had to walk our kids through the paces to keep them on track.
I was pretty tired after the whole thing, but since Mal enjoyed it, decided I'd let him try one more time (because they give you two trials before you have to commit), anyway. The next week, though, he made it easy on me. I asked the night before, "Do you want to go to gymnastics tomorrow?" He said, "No!" His answer was the same the next day, and I'm glad we were on the same page!
Mal has always been a big kid, weight well off the charts when he turned 2 and weighed 36 pounds. He was in the higher percentile for height, too, at about 90 cm (35.5 inches, more or less). During the past year, he has not gained a single pound! He has, however, shot up a few inches. I'll measure him later this week, but he's closing in on 39 inches, I believe.
We don't impose "arbitrary limits" on Mal, meaning that he pretty much decides when and what to eat, when to use and what to do on the computer, when he goes to bed and gets up, and that kind of thing. It's definitely made interacting with him more peaceful (compared to my first attempt at parenting a small person), which we really need, given Mal's naturally demanding personality (which my first did not possess, but was pretty phlegmatic).
While this might sound like a nightmare waiting to happen, it's panning out quite well at the moment. At two years old, Mal will often watch videos for twenty minutes, put his computer to sleep, and invite one of us to play with him. Or ask to get out the Play-Doh. Or go into his room to play with Paw Patrol. Yes, there are days (like Friday) when he goes back to the computer multiple times throughout the day. But there are also days like today when he doesn't think to turn it on at all, even though James and I were both ready for him to chill in front of some videos by 4 PM! Even though we (almost) never say "no," (unless, say, we're getting ready to walk out the door), we never suggest it, either.
Same thing with bedtime. Mal will play or watch TV or want to sit outside and look at stars or whatever, and then stop at some point and say accusingly, "Mommy! I'm tired! I need to go to sleep!" He knows when he's sleepy, and by the time he goes to bed, he's ready. Of course, there are exceptions that prove this rule. Tonight, for instance, he was going physically bonkers at around 7:30. I had to keep asking him to stop jumping on things or falling into things because he was going to injure himself. He's usually pretty coordinated, but when kids get tired, they get clumsy. Finally, at around 8:15, I asked him if he wanted to go for a drive. I felt like having him strapped in was the only way to keep him from harm, and he did want to go on a drive, but he wanted to end the drive at the park, wherein he intended to play on the playground.
He's gotten so bold on that thing recently that I didn't want to chance it. So he cried in the car for a good while, lamenting that we wouldn't take him to the park. "I'm really sad that we can't go to the yake." "I know you are, Mal, and I'm sorry." After about half an hour, he said, "I want the music class music!" I put the CD in and he listened happily the rest of the way home. When we got here, he requested that I carry him "like a baby" to his room, and he rapidly went to sleep.
To answer your questions: Yes, he still nurses to sleep. Every time (sometimes he *does* conk out in the car). Including when he wakes up in the middle of the night, which is frequently. How frequently? I don't count, but I'd say I consider 3-4 times "normal." It used to be 6-12 times, so we're improving. But, yeah, we usually "expect" a 3-year-old to sleep "better" and that is just not where we are. We're making it work.
Mal is a crazy sleeper, so we have a futon mattress on the floor. He rolls off of it almost every night. Many times when he wakes up asking for "deedees," he's lying with his feet on the pillow and his head toward the foot of the bed.
Increasingly, he has dreams. He'll say things, seeming to be awake, but that make no sense to me, so I'm guessing they're related to whatever is in his head. "Mommy, stretch it out. YOU CAN!" ??? He's also awakened at least a couple of times in the past month crying and scared. I went to pull him in one time, and he yelled, "No! I want my mommy!" I kept assuring him it was me, and he finally calmed down, pulling my arms tighter around him.
Once, we had to get up and walk around, as he insisted we get out of the bedroom and into the living room. We sat on the chair for about half an hour, then he was ready to go back to lie down.
Another remarkable thing about this little kid is that he expects to be taken seriously. When he says, "Let's go to the park!" he will start getting his shoes on because he has learned that we try to honor his wishes whenever possible.
He has his favorite places to go and things to do, but will often (as with the gym class, and sometimes even things like the library's storytime and other events) choose just to stay home. Any time we're gone for a while and come back, he croons, "Aww, I missed my home."
His favorite things to do are to go to the lake (and he has a circuit of playground, "gump rocks," visiting the doc - much to our horror - and then back up to the playground), to play and eat at McDonald's (4 chicken nuggets, strawberry GoGurt, apple juice or chocolate milk, and fries with ketchup or ice cream), go to the mall ("Mickey Mouse store;" indoor playground; inflatables playground - which he wants to enter but is terrified of the jump structures because they're loud, so we often argue about not paying $8-10 to walk around and do nothing for 20 minutes; window-shopping at Build-a-Bear; and newly a big fan of the escalator), Chuck E. Cheese, and to go to any store (drug, grocery, and even gas stations).
Mal is kind of obsessive about color order. He has a series of "cubbies" in his room with drawers that are red, orange, yellow (on the top shelf), green, light blue, and dark blue (on the bottom). One time, after he'd taken them all out, James returned them willy-nilly and I just left them, because whatever, right? But a couple of days later, Mal announced, "Daddy made a 'stake," and switched them all back.
We also have a marble maze with two pieces that have things like "water wheels" for the marbles to go through. The way those pieces came, and are shown on the box, is that the piece with the yellow frame has a purple wheel and the piece with the red frame has a yellow wheel. Mal will not allow the maze to exist like that. He insists that the yellow wheel goes with the yellow frame, and anything else results in destruction since he can't take the wheels out without pulling everything to bits.
Mal's imagination is ramping up. Many times, he'll be playing in his room and I'll think he's fussing for me, but when I go in, he's just playing, acting out an argument between two characters. He makes up games and scenarios that he has to (and can) explain to us so we can play along. He is alternately a baby, or a monster, or a dog, or a "bad guy." He also talks about what other people are doing when they're not around. And what they might be thinking or feeling.
He also recognizes that the above-pictured cat is Rudy, which is his cat. He knows that Carol is D's, and might scratch him if he's not careful. And he knows that Aish is "the pretty one," so soft, and belongs to Daddy. He tells me that I need a cat, but I assure him that I have enough to take care of without having a cat of my own.
Mal still cannot sit through a meal, so we know where all of the places with play areas are.
His favorite foods are scrambled eggs, grapes, chocolate rocks, Runts-style bones, French fries, bananas, cupcakes (but only the frosting part), yogurt, straight sugar, and Mommy's soda.
Mal doesn't really have a lot of patience for sitting down to read stories, although he likes to look at certain books. He prefers books that have pictures but no plot, so he can chat about the pictures. His favorite picture books are: The Jellybean Book, Diggers and Dumpers, Colors, The Big Animal Book, and a collection of number books my mom gave him.
Those are tiny board books, with like 5 pages each, and on every opening, the left page will have the ordinal ("2") and the word spelled out ("two"), then on the right will be a picture of that amount of something (candles) with the word written underneath. This morning, we were looking through the first book, and before I could turn the page, he said, "Wait!" Then he pointed to the right page, "r, a, t, t, l, e... for 'rattle.'" Next, he pointed at the left page and said, "o, n, e for 'one.'"
This kind of decoding isn't anything we've ever done with him, and I'm not sure where he picked it up. Anyway, on the next page he did the same thing with a drum, then said, "o, n, e for 'one' again." I assured him it would be spelled the same way every time.
He "spelled" "one" on every page, but not the object. And by the time we got to the "2" book, he was just finished with that whole exercise. It was pretty neat, though.
Mal also recognizes sheet music for what it is.
There are so many other things James mentioned when I asked him for ideas, but it's almost midnight and I had to shoo him out and tell him to stop, because as much as we might want to record everything for posterity's sake, we just can't. If I've left anything notable out, he can write his own blog post about it (hint hint).
Suffice it to say that these are the magical times. As much as I don't adore being the primary caregiver for a baby, I absolutely relish the toddler and preschool years. Yes, even on the days when I'm ready for a mental health break by lunchtime. There's just something so cool to be able to watch a kid figuring things out and growing and becoming a person totally separate from you or your spouse.
Happy almost birthday, Mal!
Here's a goofy video of Mal dancing with my keys to distract me to keep me from leaving the other day. Sorry for the weird angle, but he's pantsless. (Which leads me to another thought: he's almost totally potty-trained, something I wouldn't have believed possible a month ago. #blessed.)
Mal's vocabulary has exploded this year. He was certainly not "at level" when he turned 2, which is something like 75-200 words. But now, he pretty much knows all of the words and uses them correctly, including sarcastically and manipulatively. But as conversational as he is now, there are three "baby" phrases that have persisted: 1) boh-bos, for breasts; 2) dee-dees, for breastfeeding, his take on "nursies;" 3) la-la, which is to say "the other one," or "You're trying to put that shoe on the wrong foot; try the other one." All we have to say is "la-la" and he'll stop trying to put his shoes on and he changes feet. Or he'll look at me and ask, "La-la?" I say, "No, that's the right one."
Mal has experienced so many milestones this year, in addition to the verbal explosion.
The first time I visited my new church after we moved, it was January 1, and hardly anyone was there. The next week, they had childcare. At 2 years and a few months, Mal had still never stayed in childcare throughout the church service. I dropped him off, giving the attendant my cell number so she could message me if Mal decided he was through. I never got a text. He stayed the next week. And the next. And he has never looked back. In fact, in August when we had our student-led worship and so there wasn't "class," he cried, bitterly disappointed. He loves his playtime, and I love being able to participate in church for the first time in years.
Basically, he adores our church. From the minute we get on campus, he rushes to check to see whether the fountain is on or not. Typically, it isn't on yet when we arrive, but someone turns it on later. Somehow, in his brain, Mal has associated the piano music happening with the fountain being turned on, and he assumes that Darlene playing the piano is what activates it.
Then, as we head inside, he acts shy but loves being greeted by "Miss Jackie." Once we're in the sanctuary, he runs over to the coffee table to pick out a doughnut (usually pink or white frosted with sprinkles) and one chocolate doughnut hole. During the beginning of the service, he often goes into the "youth room" to hug the giant teddy bear or play with the foosball set. And he likes to get a name tag to "fill out"... and cut up.
When it's time to pass the peace of Christ, Mal usually says to me, "Mommy, hold me! I want to get peace!" He will high-five people and be generally charming, if, again, somewhat subdued by direct attention.
He's gotten to where he will sit in my lap for the children's message, and even hold hands during the prayer afterwards. But his favorite part is when that's over, Darlene plays "Jesus Loves Me," and he knows that's the signal that he can run into the other building for free play. (Sorry; he's not very spiritually mature.)
As physical as Mal is, gymnastics seems like it might be as good a fit for him as it was for D at this age. However, we took a free trial class a week and a half ago, and it was exhausting... for me. Mal just isn't ready to (or isn't in the practice of) pay attention to a sequence of instructions, then line up, wait his turn, and remember the instructions. They had about 40 minutes of structured class time, then 20 minutes of free play. He really enjoyed the free play, but not on their gym equipment! They have a big toy/book area where the kids can do stuff while they're waiting, and that's what he chose to do.
One issue I had with the class setup was that there were just too many kids. It might have been because it was the first class of the session, and a lot of people were like us, trying it out. But for a few kids, including mine, it was difficult staying focused in the long stretches between "turns." And there were only two adults: the coach and an assistant. So several of us parents had to walk our kids through the paces to keep them on track.
I was pretty tired after the whole thing, but since Mal enjoyed it, decided I'd let him try one more time (because they give you two trials before you have to commit), anyway. The next week, though, he made it easy on me. I asked the night before, "Do you want to go to gymnastics tomorrow?" He said, "No!" His answer was the same the next day, and I'm glad we were on the same page!
Mal has always been a big kid, weight well off the charts when he turned 2 and weighed 36 pounds. He was in the higher percentile for height, too, at about 90 cm (35.5 inches, more or less). During the past year, he has not gained a single pound! He has, however, shot up a few inches. I'll measure him later this week, but he's closing in on 39 inches, I believe.
We don't impose "arbitrary limits" on Mal, meaning that he pretty much decides when and what to eat, when to use and what to do on the computer, when he goes to bed and gets up, and that kind of thing. It's definitely made interacting with him more peaceful (compared to my first attempt at parenting a small person), which we really need, given Mal's naturally demanding personality (which my first did not possess, but was pretty phlegmatic).
While this might sound like a nightmare waiting to happen, it's panning out quite well at the moment. At two years old, Mal will often watch videos for twenty minutes, put his computer to sleep, and invite one of us to play with him. Or ask to get out the Play-Doh. Or go into his room to play with Paw Patrol. Yes, there are days (like Friday) when he goes back to the computer multiple times throughout the day. But there are also days like today when he doesn't think to turn it on at all, even though James and I were both ready for him to chill in front of some videos by 4 PM! Even though we (almost) never say "no," (unless, say, we're getting ready to walk out the door), we never suggest it, either.
Same thing with bedtime. Mal will play or watch TV or want to sit outside and look at stars or whatever, and then stop at some point and say accusingly, "Mommy! I'm tired! I need to go to sleep!" He knows when he's sleepy, and by the time he goes to bed, he's ready. Of course, there are exceptions that prove this rule. Tonight, for instance, he was going physically bonkers at around 7:30. I had to keep asking him to stop jumping on things or falling into things because he was going to injure himself. He's usually pretty coordinated, but when kids get tired, they get clumsy. Finally, at around 8:15, I asked him if he wanted to go for a drive. I felt like having him strapped in was the only way to keep him from harm, and he did want to go on a drive, but he wanted to end the drive at the park, wherein he intended to play on the playground.
He's gotten so bold on that thing recently that I didn't want to chance it. So he cried in the car for a good while, lamenting that we wouldn't take him to the park. "I'm really sad that we can't go to the yake." "I know you are, Mal, and I'm sorry." After about half an hour, he said, "I want the music class music!" I put the CD in and he listened happily the rest of the way home. When we got here, he requested that I carry him "like a baby" to his room, and he rapidly went to sleep.
To answer your questions: Yes, he still nurses to sleep. Every time (sometimes he *does* conk out in the car). Including when he wakes up in the middle of the night, which is frequently. How frequently? I don't count, but I'd say I consider 3-4 times "normal." It used to be 6-12 times, so we're improving. But, yeah, we usually "expect" a 3-year-old to sleep "better" and that is just not where we are. We're making it work.
Mal is a crazy sleeper, so we have a futon mattress on the floor. He rolls off of it almost every night. Many times when he wakes up asking for "deedees," he's lying with his feet on the pillow and his head toward the foot of the bed.
Increasingly, he has dreams. He'll say things, seeming to be awake, but that make no sense to me, so I'm guessing they're related to whatever is in his head. "Mommy, stretch it out. YOU CAN!" ??? He's also awakened at least a couple of times in the past month crying and scared. I went to pull him in one time, and he yelled, "No! I want my mommy!" I kept assuring him it was me, and he finally calmed down, pulling my arms tighter around him.
Once, we had to get up and walk around, as he insisted we get out of the bedroom and into the living room. We sat on the chair for about half an hour, then he was ready to go back to lie down.
Another remarkable thing about this little kid is that he expects to be taken seriously. When he says, "Let's go to the park!" he will start getting his shoes on because he has learned that we try to honor his wishes whenever possible.
He has his favorite places to go and things to do, but will often (as with the gym class, and sometimes even things like the library's storytime and other events) choose just to stay home. Any time we're gone for a while and come back, he croons, "Aww, I missed my home."
His favorite things to do are to go to the lake (and he has a circuit of playground, "gump rocks," visiting the doc - much to our horror - and then back up to the playground), to play and eat at McDonald's (4 chicken nuggets, strawberry GoGurt, apple juice or chocolate milk, and fries with ketchup or ice cream), go to the mall ("Mickey Mouse store;" indoor playground; inflatables playground - which he wants to enter but is terrified of the jump structures because they're loud, so we often argue about not paying $8-10 to walk around and do nothing for 20 minutes; window-shopping at Build-a-Bear; and newly a big fan of the escalator), Chuck E. Cheese, and to go to any store (drug, grocery, and even gas stations).
Mal is kind of obsessive about color order. He has a series of "cubbies" in his room with drawers that are red, orange, yellow (on the top shelf), green, light blue, and dark blue (on the bottom). One time, after he'd taken them all out, James returned them willy-nilly and I just left them, because whatever, right? But a couple of days later, Mal announced, "Daddy made a 'stake," and switched them all back.
We also have a marble maze with two pieces that have things like "water wheels" for the marbles to go through. The way those pieces came, and are shown on the box, is that the piece with the yellow frame has a purple wheel and the piece with the red frame has a yellow wheel. Mal will not allow the maze to exist like that. He insists that the yellow wheel goes with the yellow frame, and anything else results in destruction since he can't take the wheels out without pulling everything to bits.
Mal's imagination is ramping up. Many times, he'll be playing in his room and I'll think he's fussing for me, but when I go in, he's just playing, acting out an argument between two characters. He makes up games and scenarios that he has to (and can) explain to us so we can play along. He is alternately a baby, or a monster, or a dog, or a "bad guy." He also talks about what other people are doing when they're not around. And what they might be thinking or feeling.
He also recognizes that the above-pictured cat is Rudy, which is his cat. He knows that Carol is D's, and might scratch him if he's not careful. And he knows that Aish is "the pretty one," so soft, and belongs to Daddy. He tells me that I need a cat, but I assure him that I have enough to take care of without having a cat of my own.
Mal still cannot sit through a meal, so we know where all of the places with play areas are.
His favorite foods are scrambled eggs, grapes, chocolate rocks, Runts-style bones, French fries, bananas, cupcakes (but only the frosting part), yogurt, straight sugar, and Mommy's soda.
Mal doesn't really have a lot of patience for sitting down to read stories, although he likes to look at certain books. He prefers books that have pictures but no plot, so he can chat about the pictures. His favorite picture books are: The Jellybean Book, Diggers and Dumpers, Colors, The Big Animal Book, and a collection of number books my mom gave him.
Those are tiny board books, with like 5 pages each, and on every opening, the left page will have the ordinal ("2") and the word spelled out ("two"), then on the right will be a picture of that amount of something (candles) with the word written underneath. This morning, we were looking through the first book, and before I could turn the page, he said, "Wait!" Then he pointed to the right page, "r, a, t, t, l, e... for 'rattle.'" Next, he pointed at the left page and said, "o, n, e for 'one.'"
This kind of decoding isn't anything we've ever done with him, and I'm not sure where he picked it up. Anyway, on the next page he did the same thing with a drum, then said, "o, n, e for 'one' again." I assured him it would be spelled the same way every time.
He "spelled" "one" on every page, but not the object. And by the time we got to the "2" book, he was just finished with that whole exercise. It was pretty neat, though.
Mal also recognizes sheet music for what it is.
There are so many other things James mentioned when I asked him for ideas, but it's almost midnight and I had to shoo him out and tell him to stop, because as much as we might want to record everything for posterity's sake, we just can't. If I've left anything notable out, he can write his own blog post about it (hint hint).
Suffice it to say that these are the magical times. As much as I don't adore being the primary caregiver for a baby, I absolutely relish the toddler and preschool years. Yes, even on the days when I'm ready for a mental health break by lunchtime. There's just something so cool to be able to watch a kid figuring things out and growing and becoming a person totally separate from you or your spouse.
Happy almost birthday, Mal!
Here's a goofy video of Mal dancing with my keys to distract me to keep me from leaving the other day. Sorry for the weird angle, but he's pantsless. (Which leads me to another thought: he's almost totally potty-trained, something I wouldn't have believed possible a month ago. #blessed.)
Friday, September 1, 2017
More Stuff Mal Said...
There is a dark cloud hanging over my head right now, and I wish it'd go away. I know it's circumstantial: a mix of hormones, issues my immediate and extended family are having that don't directly affect me but that I bear because I care about them, and then some personal disappointment today when something I'd really been looking forward to doing didn't pan out.
So.
To combat that, I'm going to share some stuff that Mal has said lately. It's like his vocabulary just went from nothing to every word in the universe all at once. That, plus now when he wakes up from a deep sleep, it takes him a while to transition, but he's still super verbal so will often say things that don't make sense or that are impossible.
For instance, he'd taken a rare nap yesterday, and the first time he woke from that, he woke up asking me to "fix it" an pointing vaguely at his leg. When I asked him what he wanted me to do, he said, "Pull that. Mommy, you can. Push it!" Then when I asked again what he wanted, he said, "I need batteries." I asked, "You do? For what?" He said, "My neck!" and pointed toward his throat. I laughed so hard at that, and so did he. Then he fell back to sleep. When he woke up the next time, it was to report that someone had stolen his books.
Last night, he woke up at one point asking for a dragon sucker. I told him we didn't have one, and he started crying. "Mommy, get one!" I told him I would. He said, "I want it now." So I said, "Okay. Here it is." Then he said, "I don't want that one. I want a Paw Patrol sucker." Then we had to start over with my staying we didn't have it.
When we were out today, Mal was very sad that I wouldn't plough more quarters into some machine he wanted, after having paid $8 for him to play in the "bounce park" where he refuses to go into the inflatables at all, because the ambient noise scares him.
Anyway, we'd gone into the restroom (still waiting for him to use the toilet in public; nothing so far) and he was bawling, complete with snot running down his face. He never likes for me to wipe his nose, and this time as I went at him, he said, "No! I just want to cry!" "You can cry!" I assured him. "No, I can't. You wipe it off!"
Oh, and last night he woke up, upside down and hanging half off of the bed, so I grabbed him up to reposition him. At that, he yelled, "No! No! MOMMY!" I said, "Sweetie, I *am* Mommy." "NO! Mommy! Not you!" I said, "Mommy has you, sweetie." Then I kissed him on the head. He softly cooed, "Aww, Mommy."
Last night, we'd driven out to see the sunset from Sunset Deck. In the picture above, Mal is telling me, "The dinosaurs are coming!" I guess dusk ushers them in?
Mal's latest interests involve: using tools to play with Play-Doh, playing "dirt" with his marbles and "instruction" trucks, and "driving" around the house in his "car" asking, "What's the problem?" and wanting us to give him something to fix.
There is more, but Mal has been asleep for almost five hours already, so I need to go to sleep NOW to prepare for the inevitable pre-dawn wake-up. *yawn* Did I mention that I'm 45 now? Not surprisingly, the frat boy schedule of a toddler is not getting easier as I "mature." But, goodness, what a fun age.
So.
To combat that, I'm going to share some stuff that Mal has said lately. It's like his vocabulary just went from nothing to every word in the universe all at once. That, plus now when he wakes up from a deep sleep, it takes him a while to transition, but he's still super verbal so will often say things that don't make sense or that are impossible.
For instance, he'd taken a rare nap yesterday, and the first time he woke from that, he woke up asking me to "fix it" an pointing vaguely at his leg. When I asked him what he wanted me to do, he said, "Pull that. Mommy, you can. Push it!" Then when I asked again what he wanted, he said, "I need batteries." I asked, "You do? For what?" He said, "My neck!" and pointed toward his throat. I laughed so hard at that, and so did he. Then he fell back to sleep. When he woke up the next time, it was to report that someone had stolen his books.
Last night, he woke up at one point asking for a dragon sucker. I told him we didn't have one, and he started crying. "Mommy, get one!" I told him I would. He said, "I want it now." So I said, "Okay. Here it is." Then he said, "I don't want that one. I want a Paw Patrol sucker." Then we had to start over with my staying we didn't have it.
When we were out today, Mal was very sad that I wouldn't plough more quarters into some machine he wanted, after having paid $8 for him to play in the "bounce park" where he refuses to go into the inflatables at all, because the ambient noise scares him.
Anyway, we'd gone into the restroom (still waiting for him to use the toilet in public; nothing so far) and he was bawling, complete with snot running down his face. He never likes for me to wipe his nose, and this time as I went at him, he said, "No! I just want to cry!" "You can cry!" I assured him. "No, I can't. You wipe it off!"
Oh, and last night he woke up, upside down and hanging half off of the bed, so I grabbed him up to reposition him. At that, he yelled, "No! No! MOMMY!" I said, "Sweetie, I *am* Mommy." "NO! Mommy! Not you!" I said, "Mommy has you, sweetie." Then I kissed him on the head. He softly cooed, "Aww, Mommy."
Last night, we'd driven out to see the sunset from Sunset Deck. In the picture above, Mal is telling me, "The dinosaurs are coming!" I guess dusk ushers them in?
Mal's latest interests involve: using tools to play with Play-Doh, playing "dirt" with his marbles and "instruction" trucks, and "driving" around the house in his "car" asking, "What's the problem?" and wanting us to give him something to fix.
There is more, but Mal has been asleep for almost five hours already, so I need to go to sleep NOW to prepare for the inevitable pre-dawn wake-up. *yawn* Did I mention that I'm 45 now? Not surprisingly, the frat boy schedule of a toddler is not getting easier as I "mature." But, goodness, what a fun age.
Saturday, July 22, 2017
Speaking with Mal
Here are a few snippets from conversations with my son this morning, in the space of about 2 hours:
MAL: Eww. Earwax.
ME: Yummy!
MAL: No! Earwax is gross. Boogers are yummy!
Later, Mal handed me something that looked like a seed.
MAL: What's this?
ME: (realizing it wasn't hard-shelled) Um, did it come out of your butt?
MAL: Yes.
ME: Then I think it's poop.
MAL: Not, it not.
MAL: Mommy, deedees!
ME: Sweetie, there's not any left.
MAL: I just need two deedees!
ME: We already did two.
MAL: I just need five deedees.
ME:...
MAL: They're not tired! They're just closed! Right there!!
And here's a bonus conversation with that child's dad, many many hours later.
ME: Good morning! Are you hungry?
JAMES: Yes.
ME: What sounds good?
JAMES: You want to do that thing you mentioned? With the pies and the cheese and the video games?
ME: Um, no. You can't do Chuck E. Cheese on the weekend unless you get there right when it opens.
JAMES: Is it too late for that?
ME: What time do you think it is?
JAMES: About 8?
ME: It's 20 'til 1.
JAMES: Wow. Thank you.
I think we can all agree I'm the best wife. I don't think I've ever even made a honey-do list. :)
Have an entertaining weekend, people!
MAL: Eww. Earwax.
ME: Yummy!
MAL: No! Earwax is gross. Boogers are yummy!
Later, Mal handed me something that looked like a seed.
MAL: What's this?
ME: (realizing it wasn't hard-shelled) Um, did it come out of your butt?
MAL: Yes.
ME: Then I think it's poop.
MAL: Not, it not.
MAL: Mommy, deedees!
ME: Sweetie, there's not any left.
MAL: I just need two deedees!
ME: We already did two.
MAL: I just need five deedees.
ME:...
MAL: They're not tired! They're just closed! Right there!!
 |
| Permanent mood |
And here's a bonus conversation with that child's dad, many many hours later.
ME: Good morning! Are you hungry?
JAMES: Yes.
ME: What sounds good?
JAMES: You want to do that thing you mentioned? With the pies and the cheese and the video games?
ME: Um, no. You can't do Chuck E. Cheese on the weekend unless you get there right when it opens.
JAMES: Is it too late for that?
ME: What time do you think it is?
JAMES: About 8?
ME: It's 20 'til 1.
JAMES: Wow. Thank you.
I think we can all agree I'm the best wife. I don't think I've ever even made a honey-do list. :)
Have an entertaining weekend, people!
Sunday, July 9, 2017
Childhood is Magic
This morning, Mal found the basting brush in a drawer, and decided that he wanted to "paint food." So, we toasted a slice of bread, melted a pat of butter, and mixed some green food coloring in with the butter.
And after that, we added jelly on top, because Mal just doesn't appreciate plain butter toast like I do.
Then tonight, at about 9 PM, after he'd watched the "Nighttime" episode of Daniel Tiger, Mal decided he wanted to go outside and "find out what's special at night." At the time, I was in the middle of a very long hold waiting for customer service to fix an error. But James manned the speaker phone while I took Mal out onto the porch.
After we'd handled that business, Mal said, "Okay, let's go in the car!" So... We did. James, Mal, and I got on shoes and decided to go to the lake to see what was special at night over there. I'm glad we did!
First, when we got there, we drove through a scene where the police had their high-beams on and were talking to two people with very large dogs. We decided to go in the far entrance, and then park.
As we pulled into a space, we saw a frog under a tree. It's funny, because that's one of the things Daniel Tiger sees on his night walk, and Mal had (wrongly) said on our porch, "I hear the frogs!"
Before we got out of the car, James and I got to see the frog catch and eat something. Then we walked over, and the frog was nonplussed by James's flashlight pointed at it. I told Mal, "If you want to pet it, you can. It will jump, if you do." So he did, and the frog hopped away. Mal was tickled.
 |
| See the vertical-ish line to the left and about in the center? That's the frog's back. |
Then we went over to the playground, where a little girl was actually playing in the dark as her family packed up their stuff from an afternoon on the water. There were boats coming in, and a surprising amount of activity, for it to be 9:30 at night.
It was actually pretty nice, Mal getting to play on the playground without burning his legs on the slide, and without my having to hide under the play structure for shade.
When we left, we were going to drive around a bit more and decided to stop by Sonic. Mal ended up falling asleep on the way back from Sonic, without even eating any of his French fries. So guess what he's having for breakfast tomorrow?
If we didn't have a toddler who wanted to explore after dark, we probably wouldn't have gotten out this evening. I'm glad we had a tour guide who wanted to explore the magic.
 |
| The moon through our trees. |
 |
| Cloud cover |
Thursday, June 15, 2017
Let's Talk
Mal was slow to the verbal game, but now that he's off and running... He seriously cracks me up every day.
Today, he was having me be "the horse." Okay, sidebar story: "The horse" is actually a beautiful giant white pegasus puppet. When D was little, we bought it on Amazon (before Prime) for a friend's birthday. It had been like $65 but was on sale for $5. I used to have a limit of $7 on any birthday gifts for D's friends, and I always managed to come up with some cool stuff. Anyhoo, the pegasus didn't get to us until after Ansley's birthday party, and we'd gotten her something else, but D loved the pegasus, anyway, so we kept it. And now Mal loves it.
So.
I was being "the horse" and Mal was showing her (Mal says she's a girl) around his room. He got to this toy boat he has for his (at this point theoretical) baths, and said, "Horsey, here's the door, and here's the steering wheel, and here are the stabilizers." Um, what? I'm pretty sure that's from Peppa Pig. And they're actually where you'd tie up to the dock, but I'm not correcting him.
Tonight, I defaced a $30+ pair of Hanna Andersson pajamas (I didn't pay full retail, though!) because Mal REALLY wanted to wear his "stars and Ms" PJs (Wonder Woman; look at the logo and think of it from his perspective, viewing it from above), but they're winter pajamas and we're looking at near-record heat from now until the earth ends, apparently. So I cut off the arms and the legs. It's not like he could have worn them this winter, anyway. He's growing like crazy.
Look at this! The picture on the left was a year ago today, and the one on the right was last Tuesday, I believe. Now, he has been wearing those shoes for a year, but they are almost too tight. The clothes he outgrew long ago.
Before James got home this evening, I put on makeup for the first time in a long time. He doesn't usually notice/care about that kind of thing, but I was feeling mehh and wanted to spruce up. A couple of hours later, we were all in Mal's room, James finishing up his dinner, when Mal came over to me to hug me and said, "Mommy, so beautiful! Wearing makeup!" Hey, at least one guy in this house notices.
He's a fun kid, and he likes to go out and do things, but he can also be a homebody. Several times, he'll ask to go somewhere (the pool, Nana and Pappy's, the library) and once we get all dressed and ready to go, he's on to his own other thing and acts affronted that I'd suggest we go anywhere.
Lately, he's taken to saying "I'm scared" when he doesn't want to do something. I have to be careful with this one, because I do want to be sensitive to any fear he has. But also, he says it about going places and doing things he loves.
He DOESN'T love taking baths, but today was the first time he's told me he was scared. That, I get. He thinks the water is too loud. So I'll need to start filling it up before he gets in. We need to do that tomorrow. He has dirt tracks down his legs. Seriously.
Although I don't think it's therapy-worthy, Mal definitely has some sensory quirks. He is weird about noises being "loud." HE is loud. Loud isn't what bothers him. It's unexpected or prolonged or something out of the ordinary that bothers him. He will often turn his tablet down so low there's no way he can hear the words. The "air kites" down by the lake make him nervous, and although they're likely loud if you're riding in them (paragliders with fans), they're by no means "loud" at our house.
Mal has this battery-operated "drill" that has been slowly winding down for weeks. Finally, Monday, it stopped working altogether, so I had to switch out the batteries. On and off for four hours, he cried about how it was "too loud! Make it quiet again!"
Also, if it's windy, he thinks it's cold and that we need jackets and hats and gloves and scarves. There's no convincing him that it's hot and windy. He will say "brrr" when the wind blows, even if it's 85 degrees and 75 percent humidity in the full sun.
So I try to pay attention to what he's actually experiencing and take it seriously as a mystery to be solved, because he's trying more and more to communicate how he wants things. It's exhausting but fun work!
Today, he was having me be "the horse." Okay, sidebar story: "The horse" is actually a beautiful giant white pegasus puppet. When D was little, we bought it on Amazon (before Prime) for a friend's birthday. It had been like $65 but was on sale for $5. I used to have a limit of $7 on any birthday gifts for D's friends, and I always managed to come up with some cool stuff. Anyhoo, the pegasus didn't get to us until after Ansley's birthday party, and we'd gotten her something else, but D loved the pegasus, anyway, so we kept it. And now Mal loves it.
So.
I was being "the horse" and Mal was showing her (Mal says she's a girl) around his room. He got to this toy boat he has for his (at this point theoretical) baths, and said, "Horsey, here's the door, and here's the steering wheel, and here are the stabilizers." Um, what? I'm pretty sure that's from Peppa Pig. And they're actually where you'd tie up to the dock, but I'm not correcting him.
Tonight, I defaced a $30+ pair of Hanna Andersson pajamas (I didn't pay full retail, though!) because Mal REALLY wanted to wear his "stars and Ms" PJs (Wonder Woman; look at the logo and think of it from his perspective, viewing it from above), but they're winter pajamas and we're looking at near-record heat from now until the earth ends, apparently. So I cut off the arms and the legs. It's not like he could have worn them this winter, anyway. He's growing like crazy.
Look at this! The picture on the left was a year ago today, and the one on the right was last Tuesday, I believe. Now, he has been wearing those shoes for a year, but they are almost too tight. The clothes he outgrew long ago.
Before James got home this evening, I put on makeup for the first time in a long time. He doesn't usually notice/care about that kind of thing, but I was feeling mehh and wanted to spruce up. A couple of hours later, we were all in Mal's room, James finishing up his dinner, when Mal came over to me to hug me and said, "Mommy, so beautiful! Wearing makeup!" Hey, at least one guy in this house notices.
He's a fun kid, and he likes to go out and do things, but he can also be a homebody. Several times, he'll ask to go somewhere (the pool, Nana and Pappy's, the library) and once we get all dressed and ready to go, he's on to his own other thing and acts affronted that I'd suggest we go anywhere.
Lately, he's taken to saying "I'm scared" when he doesn't want to do something. I have to be careful with this one, because I do want to be sensitive to any fear he has. But also, he says it about going places and doing things he loves.
He DOESN'T love taking baths, but today was the first time he's told me he was scared. That, I get. He thinks the water is too loud. So I'll need to start filling it up before he gets in. We need to do that tomorrow. He has dirt tracks down his legs. Seriously.
Although I don't think it's therapy-worthy, Mal definitely has some sensory quirks. He is weird about noises being "loud." HE is loud. Loud isn't what bothers him. It's unexpected or prolonged or something out of the ordinary that bothers him. He will often turn his tablet down so low there's no way he can hear the words. The "air kites" down by the lake make him nervous, and although they're likely loud if you're riding in them (paragliders with fans), they're by no means "loud" at our house.
Mal has this battery-operated "drill" that has been slowly winding down for weeks. Finally, Monday, it stopped working altogether, so I had to switch out the batteries. On and off for four hours, he cried about how it was "too loud! Make it quiet again!"
Also, if it's windy, he thinks it's cold and that we need jackets and hats and gloves and scarves. There's no convincing him that it's hot and windy. He will say "brrr" when the wind blows, even if it's 85 degrees and 75 percent humidity in the full sun.
So I try to pay attention to what he's actually experiencing and take it seriously as a mystery to be solved, because he's trying more and more to communicate how he wants things. It's exhausting but fun work!
Wednesday, May 31, 2017
The Number One Thing About Irony (also, Number Two)
Fair warning, people: There is going to be more bathroom talk in this post than you're probably going to give a crap about (ha!), and that's okay. It's mostly to follow up on the entry from a couple of days ago, and for posterity's sake.
Short version: After the hand-wringing from literally two days ago, Mal used the toilet about eight times today.
Extended version: This morning, Mal was in our bedroom (more succinctly James's bedroom at the moment) watching Peppa Pig and not wearing a diaper. Not because of anything, but just sometimes, he runs around naked. You know. Kids.
At some point, he started to pee in the floor, and I said, "Don't pee in the floor! Go sit on the potty!" He ran into the bathroom, sat on the training potty, and peed. There have been a couple of times lately that I've found some dried up dribble in there, but this was a full-on pee. He even said, "This is really fun!" while he was going. I personally think he was overselling it, but whatev.
A bit later, he was sitting on his dragonfly tricycle and looked down to see a few drops. I reminded him, "Go to the bathroom!" And he did!
We'd moved into his room, and he was kind of climbing on his bookshelves, which is hugely dangerous because it's really just four benches piled on top of each other (that's the design, but they're not attached by anything other than some curves and gravity). I told him not to, and he kind of hung in a way that I interpreted as crouching.
"Don't poop on the couch! Go use the toilet!"
He ran into the guest bathroom, where there is a training toilet exactly like the one in our back bathroom, except that it's turquoise instead of red. And it has a bit of cat litter because I guess the cats jump on it as they're leaving the bathroom.
That was apparently a deal-breaker, as Mal ran into the back bathroom, I thought to use it... but, no. He got the training seat you put on a big toilet, ran BACK into the front bathroom, and put it into place. I could see that he had a mess around his bum, but he did climb up in time to pee in the big toilet.
As I was cleaning up the subsequent turd I found in the middle of his bedroom floor (how did I miss that happening?! I was behind him the whole time!), I realized that he had, at some point, also used the red toilet AGAIN without my knowledge!
Crazy!
So then, when I was talking on the phone to my sister and in a totally different room from Mal, I saw him tear into the front bathroom with a look of simultaneous excitement and panic. He climbed up onto the big toilet, no booster seat, and seriously took a freaking dump all by himself. He actually watched it, and giggled. "Poop down there!"
And he peed about two more times later, too.
Oh my gosh.
We need to get out in the morning (to buy underwear, for one thing! I gotta strike this whilst the proverbial iron is hot), and that means wearing a Pull-Up for a bit longer. But if he takes to it like he did today, we're probably going to hang out at home for a week or so and see how awesome he gets at it.
So so weird and very, obviously, unexpected. I skid you not.
Short version: After the hand-wringing from literally two days ago, Mal used the toilet about eight times today.
Extended version: This morning, Mal was in our bedroom (more succinctly James's bedroom at the moment) watching Peppa Pig and not wearing a diaper. Not because of anything, but just sometimes, he runs around naked. You know. Kids.
At some point, he started to pee in the floor, and I said, "Don't pee in the floor! Go sit on the potty!" He ran into the bathroom, sat on the training potty, and peed. There have been a couple of times lately that I've found some dried up dribble in there, but this was a full-on pee. He even said, "This is really fun!" while he was going. I personally think he was overselling it, but whatev.
A bit later, he was sitting on his dragonfly tricycle and looked down to see a few drops. I reminded him, "Go to the bathroom!" And he did!
We'd moved into his room, and he was kind of climbing on his bookshelves, which is hugely dangerous because it's really just four benches piled on top of each other (that's the design, but they're not attached by anything other than some curves and gravity). I told him not to, and he kind of hung in a way that I interpreted as crouching.
"Don't poop on the couch! Go use the toilet!"
He ran into the guest bathroom, where there is a training toilet exactly like the one in our back bathroom, except that it's turquoise instead of red. And it has a bit of cat litter because I guess the cats jump on it as they're leaving the bathroom.
That was apparently a deal-breaker, as Mal ran into the back bathroom, I thought to use it... but, no. He got the training seat you put on a big toilet, ran BACK into the front bathroom, and put it into place. I could see that he had a mess around his bum, but he did climb up in time to pee in the big toilet.
As I was cleaning up the subsequent turd I found in the middle of his bedroom floor (how did I miss that happening?! I was behind him the whole time!), I realized that he had, at some point, also used the red toilet AGAIN without my knowledge!
Crazy!
So then, when I was talking on the phone to my sister and in a totally different room from Mal, I saw him tear into the front bathroom with a look of simultaneous excitement and panic. He climbed up onto the big toilet, no booster seat, and seriously took a freaking dump all by himself. He actually watched it, and giggled. "Poop down there!"
And he peed about two more times later, too.
Oh my gosh.
We need to get out in the morning (to buy underwear, for one thing! I gotta strike this whilst the proverbial iron is hot), and that means wearing a Pull-Up for a bit longer. But if he takes to it like he did today, we're probably going to hang out at home for a week or so and see how awesome he gets at it.
So so weird and very, obviously, unexpected. I skid you not.
 |
| What a big boy. |
Monday, May 29, 2017
No Forward Motion
We had a pretty, um, full day.
First thing this morning, I got the yard mowed. It wasn't super high, but some recent rains encouraged some pretty thick weeds that grew up practically overnight. I can't complain; it'd been almost a month since I mowed last.
As I was doing this, I was thinking-- well, more wallowing. I was wallowing in these thoughts: Our son will never use the toilet, sleep through the night, or wean.
I know, I know. He will. Probably. I also know that lots of boys don't potty train until 3 or 4. And that many kids don't sleep through the night until 5 or 6 or 7. And that most children, absent a pregnancy or encouragement by parents, will naturally wean about the time they lose their milk teeth. Realistically, I know all of that.
But truthfully, I had thought that, at this point, we'd be making some motion toward in maybe at least one or two of these areas. But no.
Is Mal breastfeeding less now than when he was a year old? During the day, yes. During the night, not at all. Is he breastfeeding less now than he was four months ago. Nope. We have days when we're busy and he nurses less. But at night, it's literally the only way he can go to sleep. Or back to sleep. Except that fluke two nights ago when he nodded off in the car while James ran in to get him clothes. But I digress.
There were a couple of encouraging weeks (or a month? I don't track it very well) when Mal was only waking up 2-3 times many nights. But we're back to 6 times or even, this week, a dozen times or more, which equals basically all night. And I'm spent before we ever even get out of bed in the morning.
Regarding the toilet, it's a big no on that one. We ask him if he wants to go, and he says, "NO!" Heck, he's even getting pissy (pun intended) about having his diaper changed, stating, "Mal wants to keep the dirty one!" It doesn't help that I read a thing that said to try to sit your kid on the toilet at least once a day at this age, because once they approach three years, they are apt to start believing that a diaper is where poop goes. Ay yi yi.
I'm not forcing him to sit on the toilet. I HAVE started being less territorial about the bathroom (even when it's that time of the month, and I'd REALLY love privacy) just to invite him to join me in sitting (we have training toilets in both bathrooms), and that's usually when he decides he doesn't really want to hang out with me in there, anyway, and leaves.
Just one thing? Some encouraging momentum on just one of those things? Please, universe??
Now.
After I mowed, I came in and was eating everything in the house to stave off a hypoglycemia attack (note to self: Two Pop Tarts are not adequate for 4 hours of yard work) and chatting with James. He jokingly said, "Is it too late just to lock Mal in his room after bedtime and let him figure it out for himself?"
And, of course, it made my stomach knot. Even knowing James wasn't serious.
Sometime in the past two weeks, we lost the receiver to our "baby" monitor. It likely fell into the recycling bin. I need to order a replacement. We didn't have to close Mal's door before we got a dog. But, once again, I digress.
Anyhoo, because I can't hear him when he first stirs, I haven't been going into his room as fast when he wakes at night. There have been a couple of times that, by the time I get in there, he is sitting up on the bed, quietly sobbing, shaking and covered in tears. No way I'd leave him to tire out in that state, so I know we're doing the right thing.
But I feel like we're in this holding pattern, no end in sight, circling, circling, ever circling.
For instance, I'm ready for a stinking family vacation, and we'd love to go on a cruise. But until Mal can sit through a meal (he cannot) or is potty trained so he can go to the kids club while we leisurely enjoy a meal, that's a no-go. And I'd love to sleep with my husband (except for the snoring) in an actual bed made for human grown-ups.
That sort of thing.
Thinking about it makes me tired, even though, as James so annoyingly illustrated, I am confident that keeping the course is the right thing for us to do.
On a happier note...
When I picked Mal up from childcare at church yesterday, a lady told me, "At first, when he was offered a snack, he said, 'No, thank you.' That is so great! You just don't hear that much anymore."
I think I said, "Oh, nice," or something equally awkward, because I'm never sure how to respond to that. "You're right! Other kids are jerks, but my kid is a perfect angel!"
But here's the truth: I have never encouraged Mal by telling him, "Say 'thank you,'" or "Tell him you're sorry," etc. And you know what? He says it, anyway. Because he sees people being polite, and he imitates them. He also watches Peppa Pig, and she answers, "Yes, please" to errythang.
He's a sweet kid, and I'm so glad (if exhausted) to be his mom. And I just ordered the replacement monitor, so should have it midweek.
After I mowed this morning, I came in and Mal said, "Mommy, dirty! Take a shower!" So I did. We hung out a while and I realized that our air conditioner wasn't working. Well, the compressor was, but the fan was out. That was a first, even though the a/c has gone out a few times since we moved in... but that was always the compressor, and it was always a breaker issue.
We turned everything off, in case we had a freezing situation, and ran out to the grocery store and to pick up some dinner. As we sat in the drive-through waiting, I realized two things: 1) That our air conditioner in the car is going out, and that I needed to turn off the car because, independent of that, the vehicle sounds like it's about to shake apart. 2) I had left my phone in the shopping cart at HEB.
I drove back to the store and ran inside, where my phone was, thankfully, waiting at customer service. I appreciate that whomever found it didn't decide to keep it and call my mom (who is in Alaska, anyway, and probably doesn't have service) to tell her they had my phone, and then take it home with them more than an hour from where I live, as happened a couple of years ago.
When we came back home, the a/c still wasn't working, so I called our home warranty to file a claim. After working on it for a bit longer, messing with breakers, including the "heat" one, and accidentally throwing the main breaker, too, the fan came back on! About an hour later, though, I went outside to take the garbage to the street -- today's high was supposed to be 81, but it was actually 86 and more than 70% humidity, so blehh. Glad I hadn't waited for the sun to come out and dry up the rain and dew before I mowed!
I came back inside from that sauna-fest and realized that our house was still icky, and in fact, worse. As it turns out, the compressor was out, so the unit was blowing blergh air around. I reset the breaker and, voila! Four hours later, it was tolerable in our house again.
So I'm ready for a laid-back day tomorrow. I'll bet James is, too. Too bad he has to lean back into that grindstone again... As they were saying on NPR today: A thoughtful Memorial Day to you all!
First thing this morning, I got the yard mowed. It wasn't super high, but some recent rains encouraged some pretty thick weeds that grew up practically overnight. I can't complain; it'd been almost a month since I mowed last.
As I was doing this, I was thinking-- well, more wallowing. I was wallowing in these thoughts: Our son will never use the toilet, sleep through the night, or wean.
I know, I know. He will. Probably. I also know that lots of boys don't potty train until 3 or 4. And that many kids don't sleep through the night until 5 or 6 or 7. And that most children, absent a pregnancy or encouragement by parents, will naturally wean about the time they lose their milk teeth. Realistically, I know all of that.
But truthfully, I had thought that, at this point, we'd be making some motion toward in maybe at least one or two of these areas. But no.
Is Mal breastfeeding less now than when he was a year old? During the day, yes. During the night, not at all. Is he breastfeeding less now than he was four months ago. Nope. We have days when we're busy and he nurses less. But at night, it's literally the only way he can go to sleep. Or back to sleep. Except that fluke two nights ago when he nodded off in the car while James ran in to get him clothes. But I digress.
There were a couple of encouraging weeks (or a month? I don't track it very well) when Mal was only waking up 2-3 times many nights. But we're back to 6 times or even, this week, a dozen times or more, which equals basically all night. And I'm spent before we ever even get out of bed in the morning.
Regarding the toilet, it's a big no on that one. We ask him if he wants to go, and he says, "NO!" Heck, he's even getting pissy (pun intended) about having his diaper changed, stating, "Mal wants to keep the dirty one!" It doesn't help that I read a thing that said to try to sit your kid on the toilet at least once a day at this age, because once they approach three years, they are apt to start believing that a diaper is where poop goes. Ay yi yi.
I'm not forcing him to sit on the toilet. I HAVE started being less territorial about the bathroom (even when it's that time of the month, and I'd REALLY love privacy) just to invite him to join me in sitting (we have training toilets in both bathrooms), and that's usually when he decides he doesn't really want to hang out with me in there, anyway, and leaves.
Just one thing? Some encouraging momentum on just one of those things? Please, universe??
Now.
After I mowed, I came in and was eating everything in the house to stave off a hypoglycemia attack (note to self: Two Pop Tarts are not adequate for 4 hours of yard work) and chatting with James. He jokingly said, "Is it too late just to lock Mal in his room after bedtime and let him figure it out for himself?"
And, of course, it made my stomach knot. Even knowing James wasn't serious.
Sometime in the past two weeks, we lost the receiver to our "baby" monitor. It likely fell into the recycling bin. I need to order a replacement. We didn't have to close Mal's door before we got a dog. But, once again, I digress.
Anyhoo, because I can't hear him when he first stirs, I haven't been going into his room as fast when he wakes at night. There have been a couple of times that, by the time I get in there, he is sitting up on the bed, quietly sobbing, shaking and covered in tears. No way I'd leave him to tire out in that state, so I know we're doing the right thing.
But I feel like we're in this holding pattern, no end in sight, circling, circling, ever circling.
For instance, I'm ready for a stinking family vacation, and we'd love to go on a cruise. But until Mal can sit through a meal (he cannot) or is potty trained so he can go to the kids club while we leisurely enjoy a meal, that's a no-go. And I'd love to sleep with my husband (except for the snoring) in an actual bed made for human grown-ups.
That sort of thing.
Thinking about it makes me tired, even though, as James so annoyingly illustrated, I am confident that keeping the course is the right thing for us to do.
On a happier note...
When I picked Mal up from childcare at church yesterday, a lady told me, "At first, when he was offered a snack, he said, 'No, thank you.' That is so great! You just don't hear that much anymore."
I think I said, "Oh, nice," or something equally awkward, because I'm never sure how to respond to that. "You're right! Other kids are jerks, but my kid is a perfect angel!"
But here's the truth: I have never encouraged Mal by telling him, "Say 'thank you,'" or "Tell him you're sorry," etc. And you know what? He says it, anyway. Because he sees people being polite, and he imitates them. He also watches Peppa Pig, and she answers, "Yes, please" to errythang.
He's a sweet kid, and I'm so glad (if exhausted) to be his mom. And I just ordered the replacement monitor, so should have it midweek.
After I mowed this morning, I came in and Mal said, "Mommy, dirty! Take a shower!" So I did. We hung out a while and I realized that our air conditioner wasn't working. Well, the compressor was, but the fan was out. That was a first, even though the a/c has gone out a few times since we moved in... but that was always the compressor, and it was always a breaker issue.
We turned everything off, in case we had a freezing situation, and ran out to the grocery store and to pick up some dinner. As we sat in the drive-through waiting, I realized two things: 1) That our air conditioner in the car is going out, and that I needed to turn off the car because, independent of that, the vehicle sounds like it's about to shake apart. 2) I had left my phone in the shopping cart at HEB.
I drove back to the store and ran inside, where my phone was, thankfully, waiting at customer service. I appreciate that whomever found it didn't decide to keep it and call my mom (who is in Alaska, anyway, and probably doesn't have service) to tell her they had my phone, and then take it home with them more than an hour from where I live, as happened a couple of years ago.
When we came back home, the a/c still wasn't working, so I called our home warranty to file a claim. After working on it for a bit longer, messing with breakers, including the "heat" one, and accidentally throwing the main breaker, too, the fan came back on! About an hour later, though, I went outside to take the garbage to the street -- today's high was supposed to be 81, but it was actually 86 and more than 70% humidity, so blehh. Glad I hadn't waited for the sun to come out and dry up the rain and dew before I mowed!
I came back inside from that sauna-fest and realized that our house was still icky, and in fact, worse. As it turns out, the compressor was out, so the unit was blowing blergh air around. I reset the breaker and, voila! Four hours later, it was tolerable in our house again.
So I'm ready for a laid-back day tomorrow. I'll bet James is, too. Too bad he has to lean back into that grindstone again... As they were saying on NPR today: A thoughtful Memorial Day to you all!
Tuesday, April 25, 2017
A Scenario: A Day at the Office
See if any of this sounds familiar to you…
You pull into the parking lot at work a full half hour early. You’ve brought a bagel and cream cheese and contemplate whether to sit in your car and listen to NPR while you eat it, or whether to go into the break room to refresh the bagel in the toaster.
However, approaching your parking space, you see your boss, pacing around, looking agitated. He flags you down, and you lower your window as you approach.
“Good morning?” you say tentitively. And before you can unlatch your seatbelt, he has started on a list of “must-do”s that need to be addressed immediately. You know there’s no use explaining that it’s not technically time to start work yet. You get out and follow him into the building.
By the time you hit the front door, he has given you seven urgent demands, a few of which contradict each other and two which, not only can you not do, but science hasn’t developed the technology to make it physically possible.
Your mind races, prioritizing and strategizing how best to meet the impossible demands in a way that will satisfy him, even as you fall short.
As you make your way to your desk to get started, he calls you into his office. He has the reports from last night’s automatic tests, and he wants to read them to you.
“Do you just want me to take a look at them?” you ask.
He gives you the side eye, and so you settle in, waiting for him to start.
He reads the first page, but it just doesn’t make any sense. It’s like he ran the reports through Google Translate into some language that sounds vaguely related to English, but not exactly English. You struggle to stay with him, until you finally have to admit--
“I’m sorry. I’m having a hard time following that. Can I just read it myself?”
He doesn’t dignify this request with a response, but starts over, a little more slowly but more agitatedly this time.
It’s the coffee, you realize. You haven’t had any, and your brain isn’t functioning properly. You need to get some coffee, and that thought suddenly becomes the only thing on which you can focus.
He sees your attention drifting and starts over, unbidden, this time YELLING THE WORDS AT THE TOP OF HIS LUNGS.
Actually, that helps a bit. You get the general idea and make more mental notes of what it is you need to do about it when you get to your desk. Which should be any time now, right?
Then your boss looks back over his shoulder, and something outside catches his attention. Other employees have arrived, and the parking lot is full. He darts past you and out the door.
You’re used to this kind of erratic behavior by now, so you take the reports he was reading and walk into the corridor, reviewing the salient points on your walk to your cubicle.
Your boss intercepts you, taking you outdoors with him to show you a travesty.
“That car,” he points, “Is parked over the line. We need to move it. But we can’t because that car is too close to the side. So we need to move all of the cars.”
You know there’s no point in trying to convince him that it’ll be fine the way it is, so you say, “I’ll get everyone to come out and move--”
“We’ll do it. Get their keys.”
“Their-- whose?”
“Everyone’s.”
“You want me to go inside and gather everyone’s keys?”
He nods. You drudge back in, going desk to desk. No one even asks. They just hand over their keys and go about their business.
When you return outside, your boss is nowhere to be seen. You go to the farthest car to start moving them as he mentioned, and realize that you really should have asked whose car belonged to which keys, because you’re going to have to try until you find the one that works.
As you fumble through the remote entry fobs, you see that your boss has gone back inside and is on the phone. You move all of the cars except the last one, for which you realize you don’t have a key.
The owner of that car is in another building, and she comes out just as you’re squeezing out of the car beside hers, parked insanely close now. She gives you a dirty look and makes it a point to have her passenger’s side mirror hit the driver’s side mirror of the car you’re in as she pulls out. Your coworker probably won’t even notice. Then the mirror falls off, hanging by the cables. She’ll probably notice.
You go back inside, determined to snag some caffeine before you do anything else. You can tell your boss is about to talk to you, so you head him off at the pass.
“I’m on my way to the kitchen. Do you want me to get you anything?” you offer.
He smiles, “The usual!”
You go into the kitchen, pouring your coffee and adding the milk. The way the dairy swirls into the brown liquid soothes your soul, for some reason. You watch it for a moment, then move on to the cabinets. You pull out the bread, some peanut butter, a tin of tuna, and a jar of sweet pickles.
You knew. You knew when you got this job that he was eccentric. Well, you were told. You didn’t really know know. Now you know.
Making this sandwich, even while breathing through your mouth so as not to catch a whiff of the odd assemblage of ingredients, centers you even more. You spread the peanut butter on the square of indecently white bread. You smooth it, taking more care than is necessary, and more pride in the slick surface than the task warrants.
You inhale, picking up your coffee-- and he beckons.
You hurredly lick the knife, and two hours into your day, the remnants of the creamy peanut butter might as well be a perfectly-cooked steak. You slam down your caffeinated beverage and carry the sandwich into your boss’s office.
He asks you how much of his to-do list you’ve knocked out so far.
It’s pointless to say, “None of it! I’ve been doing other stuff you’ve asked me to do. I haven’t done one single thing, of course!” So you mumble something about really digging into it now.
He smiles, placated, picks up his food with one hand, and starts scrolling on his computer with the other. You hurry out, eager to leave before the disturbed sandwich starts releasing its odor anew.
For the first time today, you sit down at your desk. You power on your computer and notice the voice mail light blinking on your phone. You pick it up, punch in the code--
“Can you come here for a moment?” your boss calls from his desk. He means you. He always means you.
You manage not to slam the phone back down as you stand.
“Yes?” you ask as pleasantly as possible.
“It’s not working,” he says, motioning to his monitor.
You say, “I’ll give IT a call.”
“That won’t be necessary. You can fix it.”
Again, to argue this point would waste time, and you probably can fix it, anyway.
Ten minutes later, the boss’s computer is back up and running, and your nasal passages are full to the brim with sweet pickles, tuna, and peanut butter. You carry the plate back into the kitchen, place it in the dishwasher, and return to your desk.
Your chair is missing.
You sit on your desk and pick up your phone, determined to check voicemail messages. Once those are cleared out, you’re starting to feel some momentum kicking in.
Then a voice over the PA system announces that there is an office celebration in the conference room, and everyone has to go celebrate, including you, whether you want to or not.
The entire day passes like this: false starts, interruptions, genuine attempts to be helpful and productive; distractions; minutiae; concern that you’re never going to get caught up, much less ahead; and maybe, on the rare occasion, a victory moment when you get to mark a single item off of your seemingly endless “to do” list.
“Can you come in here for a moment?”
For the fifteenth time today, at the least.
You stand in the boss’s doorway and see him pull his keys out of the top desk drawer.
“I’m taking off a little early. Cover for me?”
You try to hide your unmitigated relief and nod seriously. You watch him walk out of the office, down the corridor, and you can see him getting into his car from the back window.
He forgot to turn off his computer.
You sit at his desk, log off, and--
The electricity goes out in the whole building.
You had a clear path ahead. You were going to get so much done this last hour.
Instead, you sit in the dark, soaking in the silence. You don’t pack up and leave like everyone else. You just sit. It gets quieter. It feels a little bit like heaven. You close your eyes for a moment--
The lights come back on.
You startle, looking outside. The sun is coming up? How can that be? It was just 4 o’clock two seconds ago!
But no. It’s morning again, and the boss has just pulled up. He’s getting out of his car.
It can’t be. You’re not ready. You haven’t caught up from yesterday, not in terms of work and not even mentally. You’re exhausted.
Then you see his morning-fresh face, and notice his peculiar gait.
“I’m in love with him,” you say aloud, as if you needed the reminding.
You love him. With all of your heart. And that’s why you do this. That is why you put in your best effort every single day. That is why you try to take his ridiculous demands seriously, and why you genuinely want to do what will satisfy him, even if you don’t always understand it.
But before he can throw you off of your game, you dash to your desk, tear your day-old bagel into bits, and dip it in the schmear, cramming it into your mouth as quickly as possible, and mentally noting that you need to brush up on self-Heimliching. As soon as you get some free time.
Does this whole scenario ring any bells?
If so, then my guess is that you have a toddler. Because this is every dang day of my life right now. And I’m going to go sit in the dark for a few minutes.
Saturday, April 22, 2017
Drying Out
It would seem that I am no longer in the milk-producing game. While I've been ready to wean for some time now (and maybe my body is responding to that?), my child is NOT ready to wean.
During the day, it looks like this: He asks for "deedees," latches on, gets nothing so asks, "other side," latches on, gets nothing, and then goes about his business. We have several of these check-ins during the day, less when we're busy. So that's not too bad.
What's pretty bad is nighttime. See, my son still does not have the ability to self-calm or to "just" go to sleep. Without nursing or riding in the car, he's just awake. And now that there's no milk, bedtime is taking between two and four hours per night! Not because I want to "put him down" at a certain time; we let him decide when he's sleepy.
And here's how it played out tonight: At about 6:30, Mal wanted to lie down and have "deedees." He was exhausted. If I'd had milk, he would have nursed to sleep. Since I don't, he sucked on one side, eyes rolling back, lids drooping, then popped off and said, "Other side." So we switched. Since he wasn't getting anything there, he hopped up and decided we needed to take the dog for a walk.
We did. We put on jackets, got the dog leash, went for a fairly nice walk... except I left HIS jacket on the porch. Since he had on long johns, he didn't really need it (I was wearing a short-sleeved top and capris so did), but once he realized we didn't have it, he started screaming and crying that he needed his jacket. I told him we could come back home, but he didn't want to turn around. He cried that he wanted to go "that way" AND have his jacket. I offered him mine. He cried more. "Mal's jacket!"
It took us a good five minutes for him to realize that going the way we were going and his having a jacket were mutually exclusive. We ended up walking some more, and about a quarter mile from the house, he decided to get out and push his own stroller. (I'm not going to lie: I was a little disappointed that the walk didn't lull him closer to sleep. He was a hot mess.)
When we got home, he wanted to go into the back yard. He was pretending that his stroller was a lawn mower, but he wanted me to get the real mower out. I told him I wasn't going to do that because it is dangerous, and he sobbed hysterically. Then eventually, he got distracted and went on the swing. Then he wanted to slide. He wanted me to go up to the slide, also, which I did... then he wanted me to slide down, and I told him I would, but only once because I was getting tired.
He demanded I go back up and slide again, and because I was tired of the crying, I told him I would one more time. When I got back up, he FLIPPED OUT. I couldn't figure out what it was for a while, then I realized that it was because I went up the ladder instead of what he calls the "step stool." I said I'd slide down and come back up the step stool, but he indicated, still with hot tears and snot, that I could NOT SLIDE because I'd come up the wrong way. So I started to climb back down, and he said, "NO, MOMMY! DON'T!" I guess he wanted me to magic back to the ground and climb up the right side.
He cried when I wouldn't turn on the hose (because he was already dressed for bed, and I was too tired to let him get soaked at 8 PM and then change his clothes AGAIN, plus it was 60 degrees). He cried when I tried to fold up the stroller to put it away. He wanted to play "games" so got the not-Frisbee... which we've had for months and it's been sitting in the sun, so the second time I threw it and it happened to land on its side, it shattered. Guess what happened? Yeah. More screaming and sobbing.
Mal talked his dad into taping the disc with duct tape. I suggested to Mal that we lie down. He did, and, again, would have gone to sleep if I'd had enough milk to keep him still for two minutes. As I didn't, he hopped up and plugged in his lights. He got some blocks and said he wanted to build a tunnel. He wanted me to build, too, but I was done. It had been two hours of on-and-off hysterics, and I just wanted to hold him so he could calm down. I knew whatever I did with the blocks would just upset him at some point, anyway.
Finally, after getting very mad at me, then lying down and demanding "deedees" then rejecting the first side, then very angrily rejecting the second side and demanding the first one again, he managed to wear himself out.
I'm at a loss.
All of the stuff people tell you to do with the nighttime routine and the lighting and whatnot... None of that works for him. He isn't a "lie down and unwind" kind of person, and since I'm unwilling to physically restrain him, I don't know how to save him from himself in these situations.
Oh, a few weeks ago, I made lactation cookies and those things were delicious but did NOT work. In fact, everyone in my household ate bunches of them, and literally no one is producing milk.
He's such a busy guy. So full of energy. I need some serious help figuring out how to help him wind down. I hate having him weepy (understatement) and on the verge of injury and/or breakdown the last couple of hours he's awake. I wouldn't care if he stayed up until 10 (until recently, he did; when he was still napping), as long as he was in a chill-to-happy mood.
But his distress eventually wears through my energy, and I'm emotionally too drained to deal well with helping him. Because this his happening now every day, and it's been almost a week and I can't imagine what I'm going to be like three weeks from now.
On the up side, this morning, Mal walked into the kitchen and saw me drinking out of a mug. He said, "Mommy like copy (coffee)?" I said, "Actually, I'm drinking milk. Want some?" So I gave him a drink. He said, "Yummmmmy!" So I poured him half a cup, which he drank and then requested more. I gave him another cup, which he drank and then requested MORE. I poured him another cup, but he didn't touch it so it's in the fridge for tomorrow.
I'm thinking that tomorrow I might try to warm the milk up, maybe add a little vanilla, and see if he'll take that at bedtime.
Wish me luck, people. And hit me up with any ideas you have. We're worn out and super frazzled over here!
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