I entered the last year of my early thirties yesterday. Oh come on! 34 is still early thirties. At least that's what I've been telling myself! Some birthdays are obviously better than others. This one takes the cake, so to speak, for being one of the best ever. Yes, it was really that good!
It started on Thursday. Sally HP had previously IM'd me to tell me that she would be picking me up at 6:45. No questions allowed. I tried to inquire whether or not I should eat dinner and was accused of fishing for information. I ate a PB&J at 5 pm.
At 6:45 she and my triathlon training buddy picked me up. Solely because they needed directions, they told me where we were going: The Citizen in Worcester. It's a restaurant that specializes in cheese, chocolate and wine. It's like going to a Chinese restaurant in that the more people you go with, the more different types of dishes (in this case cheese and chocolate) you can order to share. Three friends met us there. I had a fabulous time! Chocolate, cheese, wine and friends. It doesn't get much better than that! Yeah, I know I'm supposed to say some sort of motherly line about how if only my family could have been there, blah blah. Not happening! Needless to say, I didn't work out on Friday!
Once a year my moms group has a spa day. Usually that's my birthday present although it isn't necessarily on my birthday. This year it happened to fall on Saturday. After I worked out and the Big Giraffe and I took the boys to swim lessons, I headed over and spent a few hours totally relaxing. I had a facial* followed by hanging out with friends and having fruit, more cheese and of course wine. Hmm...that's a lot of cheese (not wine though)!
Sunday was my actual birthday. I got to sleep in and than after a lunch where no cheese was involved, we had birthday cake and I was able to run some errands sans kiddos. CVS was irritatingly slow, but again since I was without children, it wasn't such a big deal. Later on in the evening, I discovered that a pricey restaurant that I had always wanted to try had a Sunday priced fixed dinner. The Big Giraffe had already arranged a babysitter and was able to make reservations at the new restaurant. We had a fantastic time. Later on that night I put on my new anti-aging night cream. No, I'm not kidding about that. My skin has been unbelievably dry lately. The Big Giraffe was disturbed when I first told him about it because he was envisioning cold cream. Lotion, as in it dissolves into your skin! Of course there were phone calls and emails from family and friends, not to mention Facebook.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: 34 is a great age, even if it does require night time lotion!
*Since I am now the mature age of 34, I decided not to go with a boob massage again at least for this year!
Glad that you had a happy birthday, and I'm sorry that I missed you. By the way, I totally want to go to that cheese and chocolate place next time I come up to see. And you'll have to let me know how that chocolate sea salt caramel bar is.
The day had come at last! We are liberated from schlepping around giant bags of baby items for every outing. No more bottles, baby food or diapers (even for overnight trips). No more stroller. I wanted to do cartwheels across the floor.
I was pretty excited...that is until we went on our first outing to Davis Farmland carrying our lunches, the boys' swimsuits and towels. Where was I going to put all the stuff? I was so used to throwing it in the basket under the stroller. Yes, I could carry it, but that wouldn't be very much fun for me. I know myself well enough to know I would be rushing the boys past all the farm animals so that I could more quickly get to a table and put down all my things. It's hard to pet a goat while your arms are full.
Then I did the unthinkable. Well, what I had thought of as unthinkable a few weeks earlier. I brought along a stroller simply to hold our things. Except that our stroller was sitting in the back of the Big Giraffe's car, which was parked at his office. That required me to do something even more unthinkable. I rented a stroller. That's right. I paid $5 to rent a stroller that I knew no one would use. I paid money for the sole purpose of toting around our stuff. Brace yourself for the next one: I did it twice! I forgot to take the stroller out of the car before our next Davis Farmland trip.
Today we went to the aquarium, and I again dragged the stroller with me. Yes, it was a lunch bag holder and coat rack on wheels. My triathlon training partner did the same thing. I'm guessing that at some point outings will become less frequent with school, sports and my kids hating me. My older son (OS) already seems to already be working on hating me. Maybe then outings will be rare enough that we'll just go out to lunch when we got the aquarium.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Kids outgrow baby gear before parents do.
Staples has this great cart on wheels thing that's collapsible and works for all those things (I use it for teaching, but now, too, for other things during the summer):
Summer's here! Alright, really it's officially two weeks away. My younger son is a summer solstice baby so the first day of summer is on his third birthday, June 21st. I have to admit that before I became a parent, summer was take it or leave it. This was particularly true during my first couple years after college where there was limited AC in both my apartment and at work. Summer mainly meant working while sweating. Sure, the sunlight was nice, but it's nice in the spring and fall too.
To be truly honest, I didn't really become a fan of summer parenting until my boys were a little older. Trying to keep sunscreen and hats on them so they didn't burn while making sure they didn't crawl around and eat rocks and sticks was stressful. Why do that when I could be inside and not have to worry about all of that? On top of it, I felt pressure to pretend that I was so glad it was summer or else be seen as some weirdo much like in Twilight. The summer that YS was born was the worst. OS was old enough that he wanted to be outside doing things, and YS was too little to wear sunscreen. I don't care what other moms say, putting him in the infant carrier or a sling may have kept him out of the sun but it also made him really sweaty. Instead of worrying about suburn, I was worried about giving him heatstroke.
Now that I don't have to worry about them burning or putting gum from the sidewalk in their mouths, summer is great. The main reason I like it is no surprise...the kids can run around outside and burn off some of the energy. You're bored? Play outside. You want to run and scream? Go outside? You want to eat a messy popsicle? Go outside.
Playdates are great because the other mom(s) and I can lounge on a chair while the kids run around yelling and screaming. Since we're outside, we can still have a conversation despite the noise while keeping an eye on the kids so that they don't kill each other.
Today was one of those days. A friend from OS's soccer team called us up and asked if we wanted to come over to her house. We had a fabulous time. It was one of those playdates that went so well, we were gone much longer than I intended. The kids came home happy and tired. It was a great day.
Lest you think that summers are always peachy keen for us now that both boys are a few feet up from nasty things on the sidewalk and therefore shouldn't be into anything let me share a little story. I love using those sunscreen sticks on the boys' faces. We've had problems in the past with sunscreen running in their eyes when they sweat or, big shocker here, have a meltdown. The other week I rubbed YS's face with the sunscreen stick at the park. Then he went off to play. For reasons I still don't understand, he thought it would be a good idea to stick his entire face directly into the sandbox. It was like glitter on glue. It was a perfect sandmask. No matter how hard I rubbed at it with my hands, his shirt, or the bottom portion of my shirt, I couldn't get it completely off. Yes, summer is here.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There are similarities between sunscreeen sticks and glue sticks.
So far my older son's (OS) spring break has been a lot of fun. Yesterday the boys and I met up with some friends and saw Monsters vs. Aliens. Today we went to the zoo. The boys were all excited about it.
About a half hour into our zoo trip, we visited the indoor elephant and giraffe house. OS and his friends were particularly excited to watch the zookeepers give the elephants baths. Alright, I also was particularly excited to see it. For whatever reason, my younger son (YS) was not. In fact, he was pretty mad. I tuned out his whining to watch them use street brooms to scrub down the elephants. YS began to demand more loudly that he wanted to leave. I turned around to tell him for the hundreth time that we would leave in a few minutes. He looked me straight in the eye, squatted down and peed on the floor! Did I mention it was an indoor building? I would like to believe that he was telling me in this whining that he needed to use the bathroom, but I have a feeling that wasn't the case. I went to change YS and let zoo employees know about the mess. My plan was to inform them that somehow an elephant had lept over the rope and peed in the spectator section. Given the size of the puddle, I think it was plausible.
Since this morning, I have heard numerous stories of this happening to other parents.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Parenting books don't warn you that your children may pee on the floor in public as an act of defiance.
We here in the Giraffe household had a good but busy weekend. Friday night was our older son's (OS) testing for his yellow belt in Tae Kwon Do. I'm pleased to say that he not only passed but did an excellent job. Actually the testing itself was really nice to watch. It sort of reminded me of a ballet recital for little kids in that they went through all the different moves they had learned and did board breaking so that the parents had a chance to see everything. The Big Giraffe hadn't been able to make any of OS's board breaking before so he was glad that he got to watch OS in action. Because this is the first belt testing for the kids going from white belt, they all got trophies. Back when I was the perfect mom (which of course was well before I had children), I wasn't a big fan of trophies for everyone. However, all the kids were so excited over them and so proud of themselves that I actually now support it.
Saturday was OS's first soccer game. Yes, it was a bit like herding cats. OS and his teammates were quite proud of themselves for scoring goals. Unfortunately they scored goals against their team, but they were happy and had a good time and that's all that counts! OS is suddenly completely into soccer. In fact, when the Big Giraffe took OS shopping for clothing at Old Navy later that day, OS refused to take off his uniform. He was happy though when the Big Giraffe bought him some additional soccer shorts there. Suddenly the boy who would only wear sweatpants wanted nothing but soccer shorts. For the past few days, he's continuously worn his new soccer shorts, even when it is cold and gray. Right before OS started soccer, the Big Giraffe told me that he and OS ran into a kid who not only wore his uniform shirt and shorts to the grocery store, but wore his cleats. I wonder how long it will be until OS is the kid in the soccer gear in the grocery store.
Our younger son (YS) was most disappointed that he wasn't allowed to play soccer. However, the mom who brought oranges let YS have some with the team during the breaks between the quarters, so he was mollified. I was more distressed with still needing to sit on the grass, but on Sunday the Big Giraffe did buy our spectator chairs, so next week we will be hip and with the program.
Even if we had spectator chairs for the first game, we still wouldn't have been cool because we were sitting in the wrong section of the field. The younger kids in our town play two simultaneous games on adjacent fields. Experienced parents sit outside of the field so that the kids who aren't on the field at any given time can sit together as teams. The Big Giraffe and I were between the fields with the other newbie parents. A veteran mom told me that none of us had fooled her into thinking we had done this before.
Sunday was an impromptu playdate. My friend's car battery died and I went over to jump her car. I ended up driving back to pick the boys so they could play with her son and their brand-new puppy. Then I had a baby shower, followed by a very fun birthday dinner for a friend. Whew! Needless to say I was tired when I woke up this morning...too late to get OS to preschool. Then I remembered: today is the beginning of that weird MA second spring break!!!! It's like this weekend is a full week long. OS requested a PJ day, although he quickly changed into one of the new t-shirts and pairs of soccer shorts he got with the Big Giraffe. so we just lounged around the house. I have some fun activities lined up for the rest of the week. Well, at least I think they're fun. Well, at least right now. You'll have to check with me on Sunday to be sure!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Parents of soccer players need spectator chairs placed outside of the fields.
Yesterday my younger son (YS) had a ENT appointment. I was a little skeptical because we were just there a few weeks ago and have another appointment for July. I pointed out that I had never been able to schedule more than one appointment at a time because the ENT typically decides when I should schedule YS's next appointment based on what he sees in the current appointment. However, they had all of the appointments in their computer. I wasn't surprised when the doctor came to examine him and remarked that he had just seen us and that YS wasn't supposed to come in again until July. I wonder whose appointment we got?
It turns out though that the suprise appointment was a good thing because I found out that YS's second ear tube had fallen out! Because he never had even one ear infection with the tubes, he doesn't need another set. I know I should remember exactly when he got his ear tubes, but of course I only recall that he was slightly over a year. I did write a post about it somewhere though, and I know he had his tubes for almost 2 years.
One surprise doctor's appointment was not enough for me. I ended up having to take my older son (OS) to see the pediatrician to check out some phantom stomach pains. $25 copay later, my instinct that OS needed to see the doctor because he was jealous of his brother's frequent doctor's visits was confirmed. I think that makes him one lucky kid, but he unfortunately disagrees.
Even though the appointment was scheduled under false pretenses, it turned out to be a good thing too because I found out that OS's other ear tube had fallen out! This one I know for sure. He got his ear tubes in at 20 months. He's now 5 years and 8 months old. Most ear tubes last between 6 months and 2 years. We were actually told if they weren't out by this spring that the ENT would schedule surgery to remove them. He's only had one ear infection in all those years so he doesn't need another set either.
It's official: we are earplug-free!!! That probably sounds a lot more exciting than it actually is. The truth of the matter is that I never really found the earplugs to be a big deal. I stash a set of the Mac's Children's Earplugs (they're great because they're bright orange so you can see from across the pool if one of them has fallen out (which they almost never do) in the diaper bag, bathroom with tub and, during the summer, in the car. Since OS was in diapers when I started carrying them around, I never found them inconvenient. However, I know I have been enjoying no longer carrying diapers around, so I imagine I will feel the same way about the ear plugs.
This has all come at a good time too and not just because summer is approaching. The Big Giraffe and I realized earlier today that there were new things to carry. That realization came after we looked around OS's soccer practice to identify the first time soccer parents this evening. Yes, we identified ourselves. How could we tell? We were one of the few sets of parents who didn't have those fold up chairs with us. We were so uncool! And more importantly, I would rather sit in a somewhat comfy chair for an hour than on cold grass. Why weren't these chairs on the kids' soccer practice equipment list between cleats and the ball? Thankfully OS is too young to be embarrassed by us! Those of you who haven't ventured into the world of soccer yet take note so that you can too can be in the know and part of the popular crowd.
At the end of the day, I am now left with two mysteries. Where did the no longer needed ear plugs actually go, and why does the Big Giraffe suddenly seem incapable of hearing anything I say to him?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Just when you think you have less to carry because you no longer need ear plugs, you suddenly have to carry around chairs.
Wow I'm amazed they let your OS's tubes stay in that long. They surgically removed my son's one remaining tube after 2 years...said they don't like to leave them in any longer than that.
I'm sure I commented before too, that we never had to use ear plugs either. Strange how different doctors are.
What do you get when you cross someone who grew up in NYC with someone who grew up in the suburbs of Chicago? Besides my two children what I'm trying to get at is since my husband is a city person and I am a quasi-city person, neither one of us wakes up on the weekend with the urge to go rock climbing or kayaking for example. I camped a little bit in high school and was in a camping club in college. The Big Giraffe used to always enjoy camping as a kid. His family would go every summer.
We too would like to be able to do that at some point with the boys, but we are planning a slow progression down the path from TV gazers to campers, from the family that plays games inside to the family that sings around the camp fire, from the family that plays at playgrounds to the family that makes our own playground out of sticks at campsites. In a nutshell, we've been here almost 8 years and dammit we want to become crazy New Englanders as well. It was with that mindset that I joined Sally HP's suggestion to join an outdoor family club in December. (She is also one of the assistant organizers.)
It was also with that mindset that I RSVPed for a snowshoeing event and informed suggested to the Big Giraffe that we attend. It helped that Sally HP explained to me that snowshoes no longer look like the giant tennis rackets that I had been picturing. Plus she and her family had a great time and highly recommended it. I admit that I was skeptical, particularly because our older son (OS) is just short of 5.5 years old and I have heard the whole range of ages a kid should be before doing this activity with an emphasis on 7 or 8. We showed up and had a wonderful pancake breakfast with real MA syrup that we all loved. Hmmm perhaps we became official New Englanders a while ago...
One of the owners fitted us with snow shoes and suggested we go practice in the field behind the lodge. Off we went. OS absolutely loved it. First of all, you get to wear your own boots so the hand-me-down army boots that OS hasn't taken off since he got them in August worked just fine. In fact, while the owners told the BG that he could wear the gym shoes (which as a New Yorker he calls sneakers) he brought with him, they offered him a pair of cross country boots to keep his feet dry at no extra cost. Regardless of footwear, all you have to do is tighten the straps on the snow shoes and then walk. For OS who loves to keep his feet on the ground, this really was the perfect sport. He was practically running in them with the BG and me following after him.
Unfortunately our younger son (YS) was too small for snowshoes. We were originally planning to drag him behind us in our baby sled, but Sally HP talked us into spending the money to rent a contraption with metal poles and a waist harness to pull the sled. This frees both your hands and more importantly keeps the sled from ramming into the back of your legs and knocking you over when you walk down a hill.
Knowing that such a contraption existed was only half the challenge. I also needed to know what it was called, and I still have a hard time understanding certain accents in MA. (It's probably hilarious to watch my neighbors who grew up in Worcester and me struggling to understand each other.) In this particular case, I knew that the the contraption started with a p sound and ended with a k sound. I asked the owner if it were a "poke" like hitting someone or a "polk" like the former president. He looked at me like I was nuts and told me that he always called it a sled. His wife overheard us and told us the correct word was "pulk," but of course she still had to spell it out for me.
Wow, I've learned about jelly rolls and pulks since coming out here! I feel as though that I have also given something back. Last night at a moms group function I explained to people what dugons are.
OS also learned a lot about his endurance. We had been expecting him to last about 10 minutes. He lasted an hour and half. We then took a lunch break and after lunch spent another hour on the trails. Everyone had a great time and now OS is asking for snowshoes for Christmas. After all it's only 10 months away!
Even the BG learned to feel at home in rural Massachusetts. When we pulled up at the town general store and gas station to fill up the tank, BG had to back the car up to get between two cars and the archaic pump that had a reset button and a metal on/off switch that needed to be flipped before pumping. As he got out of the car, a local said, "This is just like New York." The BG did a double take, and the local explained, "Well, it's just that it is so busy here." The BG did a triple take. I am not sure that even the explanation helped him to see the resemblance.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A pulk is an enclosed, sled-like contraption with metal poles and a waist harness that can be pulled easily by a cross-country skier or snowshoer.
OS's Lesson Learned: Snowshoes are contraptions that allow you to move quickly through deep snow without giving up your boots.
Big Giraffe's Lesson Learned: There are some people who think any group too big to fit in a pulk resembles a New York City crowd.
I am tired just thinking about how much energy OS burnt! That is so great. I would envision my boys lasting all of 10 minutes too. Maybe they would surprise me?
What a great family day and also a great workout...and there was maple syrup too. YUM.
My mom calls runners sneakers too and it makes me laugh. And she has NEVER been to NY.
The good news is that my younger son (YS) did a good job sleeping through the night last night. That is not to say that he slept completely through the night or that there weren't any shenanigans. So that means I should really stop whining. However, I realized when talking to my aunt today that I forgot to mention how similar things feel to when I had a newborn. For example, I completely forgot what day it was and drove my older son (OS) to school at the wrong time.
OS goes to Pre-K on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday and to Enrichment class on Tuesday and Thursday. Pre-K and Enrichment start at slightly different times. On Thursday I was so convinced that it was Wednesday that I was geniunely perplexed about where the teachers were when I pulled into the parking lot. This was not helped by the fact that OS actually has the same teachers for both sets of classes. When I got home and my MIL mentioned something about my Thursday parenting class, I was momentairly at a loss until I realized that it was in fact Thursday.
I had promised OS at the beginning of the week that he and I would have some special time together on Friday. I specifically agreed to take him to the Ecotarium. Never mind the fact that he had already been there twice last week. Friday was unfortunately the morning that I was up at 3 am. I knew I couldn't go back on my promise to OS to have some Mommy and me time. I came up with what I thought was a brilliant plan: going to the movie Hotel for Dogs. No matter how I tried though, I could not convince him that Hotel for Dogs would be better than the Ecotarium. Of course I couldn't use my best argument on behalf of the movie, which was that I could sleep through the whole thing. At least I don't remember telling him that. I do remember offering to buy him both popcorn and candy. I also pulled up the trailer on my computer and reminded him of the cute McDonald's Happy Meal toy that Sally HP got him last week. No luck.
We ended up at the Ecotarium and had a good time. We saw a show at their planetarium. This was another shot at a movie with nice, comfy chairs, and it was an easier sell since OS is learning all about space in school. No, I couldn't sleep through that one either. In fact, if you're ever thinking that the planetarium is good for a snooze, let me tell you right now it's not. In addition to the fact that I had to practically pry OS off of me because he had never been to a planetarium before and was freaked out by the fact that the door was closed, it was incredibly loud. Had I fallen asleep, I would have had weird dreams about being in a cardboard box with a creepy man. Most importantly, I enjoyed it. However, since we were the only ones there we got a personal "tour" of space. OS particularly enjoyed getting to see the way the earth spins so that the sun shines on Massachusetts to create day and shines on the other side of the world to create night.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The planetarium is a great place to go if you need some space, but a bad place to go if you need some sleep.
A while ago a friend asked me to drive her family to the airport because parking and car services are pretty expensive. I was happy to help, except for two things. First, the drive would coincide with my older son's (OS) preschool pickup. Second, I couldn't fit my friend's family, my younger son (YS), and me in my car at the same time. Size soon became the least of my car problems.
Last week as I was driving my boys to my older son's (OS) Tae Kwon Do lesson, it sounded like a group of preschoolers were planning the drums in my car. OS and my younger son (YS) were actually innocent. I know! I couldn't believe it myself. Not surprisingly, cars aren't supposed to make that noise. Unfortunately, the replacement axle wasn't in stock, and it needed to be ordered. I was told my car was safe to drive as long as it wasn't icy or snowing out. Hmm...call me crazy, but I think we may have just had the teensiest tiniest weather incident out here...so teenie that a state of emergency was declared and the National Guard was called out! That effectively meant we were down to one car.
At least we had our health...until I found a spot of blood at the foot of the bed where my cats typically sleep. After examining both cats and the dog, I was unsuccessful at finding any wound. I was unsure whether to be relieved or more concerned.
Fortunately, all problems had a solution. My friend suggested that we get around the car capacity issue by taking her car to the airport. I could then drive it back home. She further asked that we keep her car in our driveway to avoid it being towed in the event of another snowstorm. As long as we were going to take car of the car, she further, generously suggested that we borrow her car until my car gets fixed. Meanwhile, OS had been asking for a while to have a playdate with a close friend of his from preschool. Her mother agreed to pick OS up with her daughter. To describe OS as excited would be more of an understatement than my description of our snowstorm.
This morning, I felt things were on the right track. I even slept in a bit, skipped spinning class, and continued to extend the life of my less and less supportive and more and more stinky shoes by using the newly fixed treadmill in our basement. When I got off and pulled off my socks to get into the shower, I found the solution to the last problem. The source of blood at the foot of our bed had been a foot...specifically my foot. I apparently had a blister on my heel that was bleeding but fortunately didn't hurt.
I had a good conversation with my friend on the way to the airport. My friend doesn't need to pay for airport parking. I don't need to rent a car. OS had a fantastic playdate, filled with hugs and play. And I will be giving myself a holiday gift of running shoes this week.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Trivial problems have easy solutions.
I consider myself fortunate that I have not been on an airplane for a while...not because of how I feel about flying, but because of what happens at airports. In particular, I am concerned about the repeated announcements asking people to report any suspicious bags or packages to security. Since becoming a parent, I have always felt like all of our bags are suspicious because there's usually something gross either on them or in them.
These days, I have started carrying a bag that is far more icky if not suspicious than a typical diaper bag. In fact, my Trader Joe's bag reminds me of the belly I used to have at the end of each pregnancy because it seems to enter each room before I do. Why? Because it contains a Diego potty seat that goes on top of the toilet. That's right, my younger son (YS) decided not to use a toilet unless he can sit on that seat. In fact he liked that seat so much that we tried to find a second one at Target for our upstairs bathroom. Unfortunately, YS may not be the only child whose urination is Diego-enabled. There were none to be found. YS had to settle for a Dora seat.
This past Friday I took my kids to a children's museum with my friend Sally HP and her boys. The boys had a great time. I had stashed the omnipresent Trader Joe's bag behind a bench in the middle of the room. I figured that was a good place, because it was close the bathroom while being out of the way of any curious kids. We ended up not even needing it. YS discovered how to pee standing up!
However after we had left, I realized we had left the seat behind the bench. The problem is that YS still needs it for...well business involving actually sitting on the toilet. I had a terrible image of some poor employee digging through the suspicious bag only to discover a potty seat that had been used on public toilets! As stressed as I was when considering the embarrassment of returning to the museam to pick up a potty seat, I was more afraid of the argument with YS if he could no longer sit on it. I therefore participated in a most unusal phonecall during which I encouraged the museam receptionist not to touch the Trader Joe's bag that had been left behind the bench. Of course she had to ask why. There was definitely a long pause when I answered.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Parenting includes some crappy experiences and memories that just can't be flushed away.
I considered buying one of those foldable potty seats when my first was training but never got around to it. I guess I was lucky that she and her brother weren't picky about their seats.
Sunday the Big Giraffe and I took the boys out for breakfast. There was a little bit of a wait, and the boys were tired and cranky. I could sense that a meltdown was about to ensue. Because I didn't want to yell in a restaurant full of people wanted to be the calm, cool and creative parent, I quickly racked my brains for a good distraction. Instantly I had it! Tis the season to be jolly! I played the Santa card.
I pointed out to my older son (OS) that there was an elf in the parking lot taking notes to report back to Santa. OS immediately went to the door to peer out in the parking lot and excitedly looked for the elf. Then our table was called. I tried to shepherd the boys over to our table. Tried being the key world. Our younger son (YS) began crying that he wanted to see the "elephant". Apparently he mistook my saying "elf" for "elephant". Of course then OS started protesting that he didn't get a chance to see an elephant in the parking lot either. My little plan to quiet down the kids completely backfired.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: An imaginary elephant is as difficult to find as an imaginary elf.
Our older son (OS) is the age when both my husband and I were taken to see The Nutcracker. I remember back when OS was a baby. The Big Giraffe's cousin told us to treasure these early Christmases. For the fond memories? No. The cute Christmas outfits? No. It was another reason: cheap toys. At this early age, toys are relatively cheap. Glancing at OS's Christmas list confirms this. The most expensive item he wants is $10.
The Big Giraffe and I decided tickets to The Nutcracker would be our "big gift" to OS fully realizing that he's five and thus still expects gifts to come in packages with wrapping paper. The notion of ballet being a gift is purely for us at this stage. However, we did feel it would be a fun outing and plan on further disappointing OS by subsequently taking him out for a nice dinner (read: not McDonald's or Friendly's).
OS seems pretty excited about it. As excited as can be expected considering he had no idea what I was talking about, even before I delivered a somewhat rambling version of the story, covering the fact that it was about a dancer named Clara who wears a nightgown and a crown on her head and dances with a nutcracker who becomes a prince after he fights off rats. We headed out to the library to get a book about it as well as a CD of the music. We do own a Nutcracker CD, I think, but it's buried in the Big Giraffe's Celine Dion CD collection CD collection, including a Celine Dion CD.
We found four books in the children's library, and the boys curled up around me on the library's couch so we could read them. As I read story after story, I realized that I had never fully understood the story line behind The Nutcracker. After reading the boys the book that we ultimately checked out of the library, the Big Giraffe told me that he had felt the same way. Furthermore, I had no idea that the person identified in one of the books as Clara's cousin Nicholas "bears a striking resemblance to the Nutcracker prince." (Yes, the prince who chose her to be his princess.) Hmm...I missed that one. Fortunately the other two stories identified Nicholas (or in one case Nathanial) as being her godfather's son leaving me with the hope that he may not have been her cousin. We won't think about about the tendency for parents to pick their siblings as godparents.
I'm really looking forward to The Nutcracker. I can't wait to see OS's face as he watches it. Plus now that I actually understand the story I probably will enjoy it even more. No, not the Nicholas part! I mean the part where I thought there were rats not mice because that makes it much less scary. I'm totally kidding. More importanly I think I finally understand who all the characters are!
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Even children's stories include some strange happenings.
Good one, taking the kids to a wholesome show with incestual undertones...nothin's says holiday love like that! :)
Enjoy the show! I think it's one of those that saw when I was little and didn't really get and then never have seen it since...I'll have to check it out as well!
i took MQ last year when she was 5 - and we did the book thing, too, which helped. Still, she only made it through 3/4 of it (but admittedly, it was a pretty poor production)
A few weeks before my younger son was born, I discovered this show on Fox. I was hugely pregnant and very tired. There was nothing good on TV. I was channel surfing when I caught the beginning of the first show of the second season. I admit that I started watching it as a joke. In fact I think I even called by husband in the room to laugh at the idea of it. I thought it was a bunch of random people who they were going to teach to dance. However, by the end of the episode I found myself setting up Tivo to record it the next week. As much as I was amused by the opening dances, I was very impressed with the actual dances the couples had to do and how much training and talent they had before even coming on the show. I had no idea there were so many different dance styles. In fact, I even let my boys watch the show this summer so that they could see that there is more than ballet, jazz and tap.
The Big Giraffe and I were trying to figure out what to do to celebrate our ten year anniversary this past August when we saw an ad for tickets for the Live Tour. We just knew that that would be the perfect way to celebrate so we went ahead and got them. Ever since then I joked that the audience would consist of thousands of teenagers and us. Sure enough when we were on the T, a teenager asked us for directions to the BU arena. After giving them we asked her if she was going to SYTYCD. Sure enough she was! Yep, the youth and me because you know I'm just so hip and cool like that. However, when we actually got to the arena, I noticed there were a lot of old farts people my age there. I also noticed that they were selling programs, and you just know I had to get one because like OMG!!! Joshua's picture was in there!!! My program, my 16 year old multiple personality, and my husband all found our seats and realized that everyone around us was our age and also had programs. They also looked like they were on a date night! And I thought we were so original. For our generation anyhow. I did sit next to an octogenarian.
Of course there were a lot of young people too and also a lot of people with their kids. I sort of wished that we had brought our older son. The key words being "sort of" because then it obviously wouldn't have been a date night and as much as I like exposing my children to the arts, date nights are starting to become like eclipses in that they seem to be a once in a year or two opportunity. Not wanting to be outdone by the teenagers I did the obvious thing; pulled out my Blackberry to Twitter where I was of course!
The show started, and it was very good. Our seats on the other hand were not, but we still enjoyed it. I saw all the numbers I was hoping to see. The audience was enthusiastic about everything, and it was nice to be able to yell for something other than preventing one of my kids from whacking the other one on the head or dashing across a parking lot. Intermission came, and I grabbed my Blackberry because I noticed the light was flashing. Obviously someone was sending me a personal email about my Twitter status! Bad guess! It was a text message from our babysitter saying that MIL had arrived at our house. We weren't expecting her until Friday, so needless to say we were very surprised. Not as surprised though as they both where; our sitter because she didn't know my MIL and my MIL because some woman who wasn't me opened the door to my house.
Although the awesome Samba number with Katee and Joshua and the Bollywood number, which combines traditional and modern Indian dance into a really fun-looking combination, were both in the first act, I still found the second act to be a lot better. Twitch and Katee performed their my fav number involving "the door", and we also got to see the dance with the briefcase. The octogenarian was clapping with the rest of us. During the door number, she also clapped her knees back and forth and I swear let out a few hoots and hollers.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: You don't have to think you can dance to enjoy So You Think You Can Dance.
Leighann said that in Chicago, Katee was injured and had to sit out several dances. Kerrington filled in the "Door" dance. Glad we both got to see Katee!
I enrolled my younger son (YS) as a community kid in an Early Intervention playgroup through my town. My older son (OS) was in the same playgroup when he was young younger and really enjoyed it. I thought it was a great program, and, as an added bonus, they had a parenting group run by a social worker for the last hour of each session.
The first time we went, YS loved it but I had to be pulled out of parent group because he was having some separation issues. What?! I had never been pulled out of parenting group before. Oh, yeah different kid. This last time YS did really well for the whole playgroup. There were no separation issues, and I was able to relax and enjoy parent group. The psychologist who led this group wanted to know if she could give advice on anything. I puffed out my chest (alright mentally because otherwise that's just weird) and gave myself a little pat on the back (obviously mentally!). This was my second child after all. Clearly I was an expert. However, a little voice reminded me of the drama I had...been through...that morning with both of my kids.
Alex Elliot (AE): This morning my kids asked for ceral for breakfast. However when I gave OS his bowl, he began to protest that he didn't like the bowl. Then his brother began to protest that he didn't like his bowl either. It turned from one protest into two.
Psychologist (P): So what do you do?
AE: I ended up switching ceral bowls because if OS doesn't eat breakfast in the morning he's a nightmare.
P: It sounds like you handled it well.
AE: What?! I totally caved in to to his demands! I set a precendent! It's a slippery slope! I now had four dirty bowls instead of two.
P: Do you have a dishwasher?
AE: Yes.
P: Then what's the problem? You don't want your kids to think you're inflexible. It's important to show that you know how to pick your battles and that you're willing to listen to something that's important to them even if it's not a big deal to you.
AE: I guess.
P: Did they both eat their breakfast? Was eating breakfast the ultimate goal?
AE: Yes.
P: So you got them to eat their breakfast. It didn't go exactly as planned but it's not like the extra bowls took up a lot of space in the dishwasher. Next time just play silly back at them and say "You know I think the Mickey Mouse bowl would make a better Tuesday bowl than Monday bowl. I think the red bowl is a good Tuesday bowl."
The discussion did make me view the situation differently. There was no problem with the bowls today. She was right that the kids did settle down once I switched bowls, and I will begrudgingly acknowledge that it is important to be flexible. Hey, that's in the title of my blog after all and if there were ever a reason to be flexible surely that's it! I'm kidding. Yes, it wasn't a big deal to put in the extra dishes. Flexible about switching bowls I can be, but flexible about being conned into doing more dirty dishes no matter how much easier it might be to wash them hmmm...that might take a while to work on that.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There is something to be said for flexible parenting.
I love that--I have that debate with myself ALL the time (Did I just cave or was that "choosing my battles"?)! Glad to know the psychologist was on my side, and yours.
My husband really has a hard time in being flexible. I wish he could have a psychologist tell him it's okay to give the kids what they request once in a while!!
Being rigid is important over certain issues but life is about being happy and if having a different bowl gave them some control and happiness, it was worth switching.
Ever since I was little, I've always had a compulsion to get to places early. I'm not sure why. Ever wonder who that bizarre person was circling around your block? Is it a lost person? A stalker? How about me arriving way too early for a playdate or a meeting and stalling for time. Haven't seen that block-circler recently? Well, I have grown up a bit now, so instead of circling the block, I now sit in a reading my Blackberry.
However, as the kids schedules are getting busier, so am I. All of a sudden I have to give more thought to when I plan to make dinner because we just might not be around when I would normally be cooking. Plus this is fall so we're back to fun plans with friends and family outings on weekends. We love it all, but every event requires exchanging a bunch of emails or playing a lot of phone tag with a several people to get everyone on the same page. Sometimes Almost always the planning takes longer than the event.
In fact I was just talking to my triathlon training buddy this evening about time management. She has 4 kids, and two of them are older than mine. She delivered an insight that really resonated with me - when you have a lot going on in the evenings it's hard to get to bed on time, which in turn makes it hard to get up early the morning to exercise.
Of course sometimes there are ways to at least cut down on the amount of time, email, and phone calls needed to organize an event. Know where I'm going with this? Click over here. Oh, come' on you know you want to know what exactly I'm doing with this Jooners thing!
I always go to bed late, because I sleep in, because I get at work late, because I work quite late to get my work done, because I can hardly get into the stores before they close, because I cook late, because i blog/iron/...late, so I go to bed late
not early...Late. I never learn. and I always complain that I'm tired
I am still looking for bloggers to do blogger reviews. Did I mention that there are going to be prizes? In fact there will be prizes for both bloggers and blog readers! Click here for more info.
Sometimes as a parent I get so got up in all of life's excitment (like trying to explain to my sons why they can't wear their swim suits and use the sprinklers when it is 40 degrees out) that I blank on telling my friends stories about the truly embarrassing hilarious parts of parenting. Or perhaps I just blank on them because I'm hoping in time I'll think they happened to another parent.
When I was on the phone with Sally HP this evening, I referenced the following story without realizing that I had somehow failed to share it with her in any of our almost daily conversations.
A couple months ago I was at a farm and splash pad with my boys. They were having such a good time that we stayed a little longer than our friends. I had forgotten to put a swim diaper on my younger son (YS) despite the fact that I could probably build a home from the pile of swim diapers we have in our hall closet. Of course, I've never been truly impressed with swim diapers, because as I mentioned in my second post as a blogger, in my opinion they're just poop catchers; they don't absorb anything. Of course if they were absorbent, they would swell to gigantic proportions like regular diapers when they get wet. Plus my kids never do number 2 in them; they like liked to wander off to a quiet corner for that and not a crowded public area.
In fact, YS wandered off just like that and ended up standing behind a roped off grass area. Annoyed that he was where he shouldn't have been, I told him to either return to the splash pad or come over to me if he was finished to be changed back into clothing. It is very common for parents to change their kids in and out of their swim suits at the picnic table areas on the perimeter of the splash pad. YS and OS were both apparently almost done splashing. After jumping through every bit of spray between where they were and where I was, they came over to me. OS stripped off his suit, and I handed him his clothes. Then I turned my attention to YS. I quickly stripped off his suit too. Apparently I did it a little too quickly becase I saw something large roll under a picnic table. OS loudly annouced that there was "a big poop under the table". In case anyone missed his first announcement, he clarified the situation by announcing, "YS made a big poop! It's under the table!!!" In fact OS was so impressed by it, he couldn't stop talking about it and how big it was. I was simutaneously trying to quiet OS and find wipes. Except that I had already used the wipes I had brought with me. How was I going to get rid of this turd? Seriously, it looked like something one of the animals had done. Maybe I could say that a cow had wandered over the fence?
Fortnately, that day was one of the rare times where the farm actually had a container of wipes at a nearby table. I tried to inconspiciouly grab it so as not to alert those eating lunch near the world's largest, although most perfectly formed, poop. Not knowing what else to do with it, I grabbed it with some wipes and threw it in the trash. Before you judge, people throw diapers in those trash bins all the time, probably because the bathrooms are pretty far off. Plus it's a farm so it always smells like manure. Yes, I know there is some rationalization here, but even though I prefer to throw dirty diapers in the bathroom trash, with two naked little boys and a wet, torn swim diaper that I couldn't fasten up neatly with the tabs to secure the deposit, there weren't a lot of options.
I say two naked boys because after dealing with the "incident", I noticed that OS didn't have a stitch on him. Feeling even more frazzled, I yelled at him to put his underwear on immediately. That of course caught the attention of the nearby picnickers. One of them started telling me that her son who was the same age as OS would go to school naked if she didn't nag him to put clothes on about 30 times every morning. I was worried that they would get a little too close in this bonding moment over exhibitionist children and start to smell the trash. I really wanted to make a quick escape before that happened or before OS went back to telling everyone about his brother's...accomplishment in the trash. Like a mad woman, I gave a little laugh which came out more like a yelp and shoved OS into his underwear and clothes. He let out a lot of yelps. Then I shoved the beach towel package in the stroller basket, grabbed both boys, and made a beeline for the car. Fortunately, I have not seen my picture on any wanted posters at the farm. Also fortunately, YS's suit washed well (it was his good swim suit!) and there were no "stains".
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Swim diapers do not absorb pee.
Love those bonding moments don't you? At least we all know that no parent has been unscathed... whatever your kid's doing, they've probably seen before!
I might be interested in Jooners/ It might be something useful for my PTA work. I need to organize the craft fair and so it could come in handy. Let me know details at katebunge@yahoo.com.
AHhhh! I just read this, and was laughing all over again! I can't believe that you didn't call me on the way home or something. It's totally like the times that you fall and you're by yourself but others saw and you have to tell someone...had I been there I would never have recovered from the laughter, so I guess it's a good thing. I would have been more embarassing to you than the turd!
We are now approaching my favorite time of year. I love it when the air is crisp, the leaves turn bright colors, and I can wear jeans and a light jacket. What could be better? Answer, you can become the parent of preschooler, and it becomes the time of year when kids also go back to school.
When I became a parent, I began to get more involved with various activities ranging from Mommy and Me classes to events at our church. In fact, on one occasion I let a friend of mine talk me into participating in a potluck. I had no idea what to bring, and it was last minute so I brought left over stew that I had made in my crockpot. I worried that no one would eat it, because it was a new recipe that turned out not to be worth repeating. This potluck ended up being largely attended probably because my friend had done such a good job of personally inviting everyone. Unfortunately, pot luck can be a nice way of saying "Bring whatever isn't moldy in your fridge" so they ended up serving a half a dozen salads, a plate of brownies, and my stew. Despite its quality, as the only entree, my stew was a hit. Of course, people learn quickly, so there was no problem with having too many salads and not enough desserts at the next potluck. Unfortunately that was because everyone brought desserts. While that is definitely my type of potluck, that wasn't what everyone wanted.
The amount of volunteer opportunities for me has skyrocketed since I began parenting a preschooleer. From volunteering to help out for special events in the classroom, to chaperoning, to after school activities, to bringing in snacks for school and outside activities, there certainly seem to be a lot. That's not even counting carpools, since we won't drive into that world until we get a larger car. The challenges also extend to community activities (who is hosting which event), programs to bring meals to new parents or friends in need (6 meals on one night could be overwhelming rather than helpful), and team participation (who is bringing the halftime snacks to which game).
If only there were a way for everyone to know what was needed and what people had signed up to bring without barraging each other with emails followed by reply alls to emails containing conflicting copies of spreadsheets that are difficult to incorporate into one document!
Well, there is...
Yours truly is in charge of a campaign for a free website that helps parents (and others) get organized and get things like this done. The site is called Jooners. That means I also have some good prizes to give away. Click here for more info.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: It is difficult to know what to bring to a party if you don't know what everyone else is bringing.
ah so you are also a fall lover. Not me! Crisp air? I couldn't care less. I am preparing a post on that ;). Keep your eyes open if you are interested why I don't like fall.
With the coming of five not only did my older son (OS) grow taller, speak more articulately, and become more like a little boy and less like a baby, but he also realized that he has no idea what his brother is up to when he is at preschool. More importantly he realized that he does not know if his brother gets to do activities that are more fun than going to preschool. Sure, last year he would inquire, but he didn't ask why we didn't wait until a time we could all go. Fortunately, he reacted well to this today.
Of course that could have been because he got to eat the raspberries that his brother picked.
That is the tough part about the kids not having the same schedules. M would ask all the time last year what K and I did while she was at school. I just told her that she "got" to go to school, since K was jealous about that too.
at what age do they start pre-school? and kindergarden? what is the difference?
In belgium kids can start kindergarden at age 2,5 if they are potty-trained...all kids that I know started at 2,5 (first year maybe parttime) since I don't know any stay-at-home moms either.
Yes, but I can say now that Jack is in grade 2 and I constantly remind him that we did all the same fun things before he was in school, he doesn't complain... but he always asks!
It's helpful when the activities provide fun for the other kid. Also, once OS starts going on school field trips, he may be able to see that it's only fair that YS gets to do little kid field trips...
I'm a younger sister and I remember being so jealous that my sister got to go to school and I had to stay home. Probably because we weren't doing fun things like picking raspberries.
Do you ever watch your kids and suddenly get flooded by a memory from your own past? For example, my older son (OS) has recently been intrigued by the police and fire departments. Every time he talks about or to a police officer, I remember how I accidentally set a jar of peanut butter on fire on my stove requiring the fire department to come to our house. I believe that event was what actually first established OS's interest.
Some memories triggered by my children are far older. I still remember how desperately I wanted to have a two wheeler. My old Hot Wheels was no longer cool. My parents had a system where I earned a star on every day that I behaved myself. When I earned enough stars, I could get a special gift. When I was saving stars to get a bicycle, a kid from across the street assured me that indeed we were allowed ride our hot wheels across the street from driveway to driveway. Apparently my parents disagreed. Just like that I lost two weeks worth of stars. I was later able to make it up by helping my mom take care of my baby brother. I was so excited to go to the bike store and pick my out my red bike with training wheels. I had it forever. In fact, it's still in my parents' basement. I have no plans to use it for any of my triathlons.
Yesterday my parents flew in from Chicago and took my older son (OS) out to get his first two-wheeler. He was so excited. He'd been talking for a while now about how he wanted the green bike at the store. He was thrilled when he could actually take it home (We had told him that it might be a few days since they might not have one built; we were lucky, the color he wanted was siting there waiting for him.) Watching OS reminded me of the day I got my bike. Where did all the time go?
After we got OS's bike and had dinner and ice cream at Friendly's, we returned home to find several cops across the street. An already wired OS got even more excited! We don't know why they were around, but a neighbor said she was going to try to get the scoop today.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: A new bike, ice cream, and the cops make a perfect day for a preschooler.
Do you mean Big wheel? Hot wheels are the little toy cars, aren't they?
Wow, must have been the day yesterday - I picked the girls up from school and there was an accident on both corners by the school and a total of 8 cop cars (or maybe the same accident but they went different ways - it was hard to tell).
Happy 5th birthday! I can't believe that you are already five years old. It seems like my own 5th birthday was celebrated just the other day, never mind the birthday of one of my kids. I have been reflecting on your birthday for the past couple of days, not only because you would be turning five, but because the days of the week are aligned the same way they were when you were born, when Labor Day was also on Monday, September 1. I joked around that for me it really was labor day since I went into labor with you on September 1.
This year has brought about so many remarkable changes. Somehow you grew from being a toddler into being a true, little boy. Suddenly you became so much more independent. You learned to make your own decisions. You learned how to stand up for yourself. You made friends with kids in preschool and on the playground whom I hadn't met. I went from knowing all about your life because I was part of everything to listening to you tell me about it. Sometimes getting you to talk required bribery! Except when the subject was a little girl named M whom you just adored or two boys named M and J who were very outgoing and on a couple of occasions got into trouble. You were very impressed with these boys. Your own interests have really developed. They've run the gamut from princesses to sports to emergency vehicles. Yesterday you wanted to visit with a police officer in the parking lot at the beach so you could learn about his job, including whether he had ever rescued any cats from trees and how exactly his police car worked. You were so excited when he let you turn on the sirens and speak on the speaker.
This year was a first for you with parent/child t-ball where you amazed us all with your swing. Tae Kwon Doe has looked to be pretty impressive too. Your knowledge of ocean life this year impressed all of us, not only including your teachers but sometimes including employees of the aquarium. You were enthusiastic and happy with your swim lessons this year. You also very firmly told your instructor and me several times that you were fully aware of the swim lessons process, but you would not jump in the pool and you didn't care if you didn't move up the next level of lessons. I have to confess that I'm hoping you'll reevaluate that decision. What was I saying about making your own decisions? I'm also hoping you'll re-evaluate your decision to boycott milk and decide that you will at least attempt to drink it and some point in the future.
You spent a lot of time with H and C this year and have just loved it. You really look forward to your playdates with them. Daddy and I are thrilled with what great friends you and your brother are. We love that you stand up for each other. You politely but firmly told the little boy at the beach yesterday to stop splashing your brother because he didn't like it.
These past five years have been wonderful. Happy 5th birthday little one. May all your dreams come true. As Cinderella says, "A dream is a wish your heart makes."
Love, Mommy
Cinderella's Lesson Learned: A dream is a wish your heart makes.
Today at playgroup we celebrated my older son's (OS) 5th birthday for the first of three planned times this year. Of course he just loved it. I'm of the mindset that part of childhood is being able to celebrate your birthday as many times as possible. In fact, if I could figure out how to extend my own birthday celebrations over multiple days, believe me I would. Parties, presents, not to mention cake. What's not to love?
I took care of baking the cake (slight pause for that shocker to sink in) and fulfilling my other playgroup hostess responsibilities. I thought the Big Giraffe was in charge of making sure there was no evidence of our golden retriever, Gandalph, in the backyard. The Big Giraffe merely thought he was in charge of removing a specific type of evidence that Gandalph leaves around the yard. A lawyer might call it...solid evidence. I'm sure you know what that evidence is.
Our friends arrived, and we went into our backyard. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a whole bunch of white fluff. I went off to start picking it up, but there was just way too much of it. While I discussed it with one friend, I decided to just hope that none of the kids and none of the other adults would notice it. The one friend in the know and I couldn't decide if Gandalph had destroyed a stuffed animal, or if the Big Giraffe had accidentally run it over with the lawn mower.
After the party ended, I went back outside to finish cleaning up and to put the cover back on the sandbox. That's when I almost had a heart attack. As I picked up the nylon cover, something rolled out of it and stopped. Did I just see an eye looking at me? Sure enough it was. Right next to the sandbox was the head of a stuffed animal gopher that had been cleanly severed from it's body. It looked like Gandalph had started to destroy it, before the Big Giraffe decapitated it. Or maybe just an alternate ending to Caddy Shack. Let's just hope that none of the kids saw it. I would not want children's dreams of parties, presents and cake to include chopped up stuffed animals.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Clear expectations avoid misunderstandings.
Seriously? I thought you were going to say it was a shredded sanitary napkin. My own childhood dog had a tendency to dig through the garbage and chew them up behind the recliner, so that our boyfriends could get a good look at them when we cuddled on the couch. Nice, eh?
Milestones don't always come at the most convenient time. For example, the most convenient time for potty training is during a week when you have nothing requiring you to leave the house, rather than during a weekend when your college friends are getting together in a house they rented somewhere, like say New Hampshire. Unfortunately my younger son (YS) either didn't know or didn't care that we had planned to head up to New Hampshire yesterday for just such an event when he decided he was ready to be potty trained. We didn't want to miss out on the trip because of the potty training, but we knew the trip would take a couple of hours particularly with road construction and stops.
The good news is that there weren't any accidents in the car. Unfortunately, the Big Giraffe got to experience what seemed like every gas station bathroom on the way to the house. As a native New Yorker he rarely has kind words for the New Englanders amongst whom we live during baseball season, but he expressed particularly...articulate views about the barbarism of a people whom he claimed had not flushed a toilet in any public bathroom off of I-495, I-93, or I-89. The boys were less concerned and were quite excited to eat lunch, play, and swim when we got to the house.
We were all surprised to hear one of the little girls at the house announce "The baby is peeing!" Our older son (OS) elaborated by saying, "OS is making footprints!" That's right, YS not only peed on the floor, but he became upset and walked right through the puddle. Before any adult could intervene, the attentive little girl accidentally dropped her brand new, electronic barking black lab stuffed animal in the middle of the puddle. All of the kids except OS were crying. What did OS do? He jumped into the puddle to make a splash!
Fortunately, not only did the stuffed animal clean up nicely after going through the wash and dryer, but it still barked perfectly. The boys also cleaned up well, and there weren't anymore accidents. I think I forgot how important it is to keep reminding a potty training child to go. When OS was first in underwear, I kept setting a timer. Of course I no longer remember how much time I scheduled between each potty visit. It's funny how something that was such a big deal at the time, is a very distant memory just a couple years later.
Big Giraffe's Lesson Learned: The toughest part of learning to use the toilet is apparently learning to flush.
I read this to Husband, and he could not stop laughing about OS jumping in the puddle. And Jen, I agree that the NY thruway would not be better. Nor would the Jersey Turnpike.
Today the boys and I got together with a friend of mine who has a 2 month old baby. We were originally going to meet in a park, but since the weather wasn't cooperating I suggested one of our places. She emailed back that she's going stir crazy and wanted to get out of her house. That was the beginning of my trip down memory lane.
This past year of being a stay at home mom has gone really well for me. While I will go back to school at some point, right now I genuinely enjoy being home and feel like everything is under control, at least as long as I am not in the unfortunate situation of being in the post office with my kids or until 5 pm, which is apparently the witching hour for them. Oh, or at lunch with my kids and a friend in a coffee shop.
While a lot people may have problems going from one to two kids, I had a problem going from zero to one. I remember being bored, tired and lonely. When I felt stir crazy with a newborn, I wanted to go somewhere public with lots of people, but because I had a newborn, I wasn't quite comfortable doing it by myself. Did I mention that I had no idea what I was doing? In fact, one time I tried to cheer myself up by taking my only child (OC back before he was my older son, OS) to a coffee shop where we had gone with my mom when she had been visiting. It had the reverse effect, and I ended up calling up the Big Giraffe crying.
Quickly pulling myself out of that bad memory, I offered my friend the chance to go out in public with "help" by inviting her to meet at a coffee shop. She seemed excited by the suggestion, and we ended up meeting for lunch. That's when I learned that I don't have things under control when at lunch at a coffee shop with my kids.
As I was listening to my friend talk about what it was like for her to be on maternity leave, to not know any other stay at home moms, and to be bored, tired and lonely, I was really glad that my kids were older. Flashbacks of still being in my pjs late in the day with spit up all over me and unbrushed teeth flooded my mind. More images of wanting to meet people so desperately that I fought through my shyness and disregarded the thin layer of nervous sweat to walk into a group of complete strangers and try to start a conversation. No one told me that it was like being back in junior high all over again except this time I had a post-natal belly and was shedding my hair like a golden retriever sitting on a black couch in the spring.
I joined my moms group when OS was three months old and got involved various activities where OS and I got out and met other people. I'll be honest. I signed up for the Music Together class when OS was just 6 months old more for me than for him. I'm not even going to try and pretend on that one. However, even though I already knew people and had made friends before my younger son (YS) was born, I still was bored, tired and lonely because he needed to be constantly fed and put down to nap. I couldn't really go many places. I loved having my babies, and I wouldn't trade those precious memories of snuggling and playing with them, but I enjoy this stage far more. I had heard from so many people that it was so sad when the baby stage was over; you can never get it back. I wish someone had told me that it really does get better. Just please remind me that I said this at 5 pm tomorrow.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Parenting keeps getting better...until 5 pm.
oh, those first three months. i was really lucky, because 6 weeks in a began rehearals for a play, and so got out by myself nearly every night. but those first few months during the day were really rough. then i decided to try the moms group i had been putting off for 3 months, and wished i had done it sooner. it is always my advice to new moms. get connected with other moms
I'm such a freak. I loved being able to stay home with my baby...so much so that I quit my job. SHE'S the one who wanted to go places all the time (once she was old enough to express that desire).
I am also enjoying each older age more than I did the infant stage. The isolation, the crying, the sleeplessness, the crying... It was all so much harder than it is now!
I had my daughter in February and I didn't want to take her out because it was so cold. I remember thinking, "If I could just go on a walk!" Once she was a little older and the weather warmed up, I felt so much better... I am going to try to have Spring and Summer babies from here out.
Wow I hear you on this one. I keep thinking back to last year when the toddler was a wee babe. Those first few months were so rough. I love the baby phase from a distance. The toddler phase is so much easier for me, I think I'll miss this phase the most.
Hear, hear. Great post. I totally know what you mean. While it can be sad to think that the newborn stage is over for good and that I will never be pregnant again, never give birth, etc. there is something nice about what lies ahead. And no more newborns crying at 2am will not be missed either! I never claimed to be the type of mom that enjoyed "the newborn stage". Of course my toddler still have issues going to sleep so it's like having a baby still sometimes.
It always amazes me how hard it is to be the parent of a newborn. Just reading your post made me feel claustrophobic. I'm glad that you are not in that situation any longer. I wish I'd understood it better when you were. You learned a lot from being a first time parent, and I definitely learned that a lot of my pre-conceived notions were bullshit. Anyway, definitely glad it's not like that any more. Except at the post office, coffee shop, or at 5 pm. :)
This has been a fun week! My friend Suzanne and her husband rented a large an enormous house in the Catskill Mountains for a week and invited many of their friends to join them. The Big Giraffe, little giraffes, and I all packed our bags and headed down to their place. After several attempts to find the tape recording of a preschool class that I was sure was hidden under my seat (because there is just no way my two sweet cherubs could have made all that racket), interspersed with serious contemplation about sticking my head out the window for half hour increments, we made it there in one piece (per person).
The house was fantastic. It had a heated pool as well as a hot tub. During the weekend, all twenty of us lounged around the pool while Suzanne's BIL and friend grilled lunch and dinner for everyone. Lest you get the wrong idea when I say "grilled," I don't just mean burgers and hot dogs. Our dinner on Sunday night was a Mexican fiesta, including chicken and mushroom fajitas, and homemade guacamole. There were a couple of other families in and out during the week, but the boys also reveled in a lot of adult attention. After they were in bed, the evenings were filled with a variety of spontaneous but enjoyable activities, including groups of people playing board games and lengthy chats in the hot tub, including a memorable discussion with an ob/gyn friend about...um...interesting gyn topics.
As the week went on, the population of the house dwindled. The Big Giraffe and Suzanne's husband undertook much of the cooking, concocting grilled shrimp and scallops and roasted pork loin interspersed with the standard burger and hot dog fair and of course veggie burgers. They may not have had the flair of Suzanne's BIL, but the eating remained tasty.
A far smaller group of us passed an evening watching Heathers. When we found that the extras on the DVD included the script for the original "darker" ending, we each took on a role or two and gave it a reading. Yes, original ending really was darker than what they filmed. That is one messed up movie!
Although we did spend the first few days lounging around and in the pool, we enjoyed a variety of outings during the week. We visited a somewhat sketchy but clean zoo where we were allowed to hold some of the small animals, traversed the main street of a couple of quaint little towns, hiked a historic trail to see a famous series of carved rocks, and toured a farm where sheep's milk yogurt and cheese are made. We also saw a sheep in labor.
On the last day we went to what has been rated one of the safest water parks in the country. I believe they earned that rating because there is an enormous amount of space between the turns on the water slides. Seriously, the staff waited until an inner tub was all the way down the slide and out of the water before letting the next person take the plunge. It was nice, but on the other hand it took a long time. Fortunately, the park was was not crowded. The safety of the rides reaped another dividend. My younger son (YS) who just turned two was allowed to go on almost all the rides as long as he sat in my lap. While I was initially taken aback by this, not only did he do well, but he loved it. Just like the zoo, the rules seemed a little more lax but everything ended up being just fine.
The house itself was in a very remote area. We didn't even get cell phone reception much less internet access. Oh the horror! After struggling with a few days of internet detox, Suzanne and I went to the parking lot of a cafe with wi-fi after it closed. We would have gladly paid for the access had there been a way to slip some money under the door. Being ultimate geeks (stop smirking, Big Giraffe), the two of us sat in my dark car and whipped out our computers. In the process we scared away some youth who were also hanging out in this dark parking lot. I'm sure they couldn't figure what the heck we were doing. The Big Giraffe and Suzanne's hubby were convinced we were going to get arrested for suspicious activity. The Big Giraffe said that he was glad we had my car with us instead of his. He did promise to bail me out of jail if needed. Fortunately, our internet experience was uneventful.
Because I have completely lost my mind, my triathlon training buddy and I signed up a while ago for a triathlon for tomorrow. Yes, I just got back yesterday. Being aware of the triathlon kept me from eating as much junk as I normally would have. Thank goodness for veggie burgers! That awareness also forced me to workout while on vacation, which was a good thing because I always felt better after exercising. The heated pool made swimming far more comfortable, and running got easier when the town repaved the street in front of the house during the middle of the week. On the other hand, I don't expect the swim tomorrow to be as comfortable as the pool. It will be my first triathlon in a river. In fact, tomorrow will be my first swim ever in a river. Hopefully there won't be any floaters.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: It is possible to survive and even enjoy a week mostly without internet access.
The summer before I was supposed to start vet school, I relished in being able to take my older son (OS) to places like the park and the beach. During subsequent summers, I continued to truly love doing it. When I had my younger son (YS) I assumed that I would continue doing the same things. I placed YS in his infant carrier, and OS and I were able to do enjoy the same activities we had enjoyed when he was an only child. Even last summer I was able to take both boys on a week-long vacation without the Big Giraffe with friends at the beach. Sure I was exhausted at the end, but going to the beach and the park wasn't a problem. Of course, I also had friends to help me.
I've realized recently that things have really changed. Some are for the better and some are not. The fact the my two kids can now play board games together is definitely for the better. Hey I'm all for parental involvement, but I can only take playing High Ho Cherry-O so many times before wanting to stick my head down a toilet. So what if they don't always follow the directions, or if they sometimes take to pelting each other with the cherries or the gingerbread men from Candyland. Their behavior in the car is an absolute negative now that they are both old enough to fight with each other. That's a post in and of itself. Let's just say if you see a crazy person driving around my home town and pulling over to the side of the road every 30 feet it's probably me driving while simultaneously trying to intercept a water bottle that is being used as a weapon by both of them. If you read my post yesterday on park safety...well you already know how well that one is going.
I was still stumped today though by OS. I asked the boys what they would like to do today. OS announced he would like to go to the beach. I was thrown. Sure we've gone to the beach in summers past, but we have yet to go this summer. I started to say "yes" but fortunately immediately realized that I can no longer take my kids to the beach by myself. Why is that? Last year YS wasn't mobile. Last year he let me hold him in my arms. Most importantly, last year OS really didn't like getting wet, so most of his time at the beach was spent either digging in the sand or with no more than his ankles in the water making it really easy for me to be with OS while YS was snuggled in my arms. No one was asking me to swim with them in the water, and I wasn't chasing two kids taking off in two different directions. I definitely want the Big Giraffe with me when we next hit the beach.
We'll see how next summer goes. In the meantime, we settled on one of the splash pads around here. It's zero depth and fenced in so both kids were contained, and they had a great time anyway.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Two children are more challenging than one.
Someone told me, when I was pregnant with #2 baby and #1 baby was only 14 months old, that two babies were more than twice the work of one. THAT was the understatement of the century! Then I went and had ANOTHER one when baby #2 was just 15 months old. Trips to the grocery store with three kids under the age of 4...I honestly can't remember those days! They are a blur!
I enjoy your blog...I miss having little ones. Mine are teeangers now but I'm still at home with them and loving how their lives are changing and so interesting.
I found that for the first few years after Kamden was mobile but now that they are 4 and 7 it's no problem at all. Hang in there, it will pass quickly and you be free to beach it again without hubby :-)
You're at a challenging point now, but it will get much, much easier in a couple of years, and then, again, having the playmate/buddy thing will be wonderful at the beach.
It DOES get easier... in ways. In other ways, it gets harder as fighting school age kids is an embarrassment. Anyway. I totally understand not taking them to the beach. I would want a second set of eyes as well.
In my last post, I mentioned a poor parenting explanation of stranger danger that I recently delivered to my older son (OS). Not one to leave anyone in suspense, I figured it deserved further explanation, particularly since this is reason number million and one why my OS's therapy bills will be higher than my younger son's (YS) it's better to be a second born. Our babysitting cult co-op had a playdate earlier this week. In order to be a member in good standing, you have to attend 4 playdates a year. I've already attended two this year, but since we didn't have anything planned, I figured this was a good time to get ahead. After all, I may have gotten an email or two questioning my status as a member of good standing in past years. I decided to take advantage of the fact we didn't have anything planned and attend. After all, if I hadn't gone to a co-op playdate at a park, I probably would have taken the boys to a park instead. Unfortunately, I would not have taken them to this park. This park is too big to easily keep track of multiple kids.
Since OS is almost 5 and doesn't need to be hanging on my leg every moment, I decided it was time for our first big stranger danger talk. OS and I had participated in a safety class together right after he turned three, but I am not sure how much he got of it. I still remembered all of the lines, so I reminded him that he could play anywhere within the fenced in area of the park, but he was not allowed to go outside the fence. If someone asked him to come outside the fence, he needed to "always ask Mommy first." Yes, I was a star pupil!
Unfortunately I am apparently just not a stellar mom because the next part of the conversation did not go as planned. OS wanted to know why someone would ask him to go outside the fence. I explained that there were "bad adults." I said that a stranger might ask him to help him find a lost dog or offer him candy. OS looked frightened and promptly burst into tears. Various expletives starting running relay races through my mind over and over again. I reassured him that all he had to do was make sure that he always asked me before leaving. I also told him to make sure he was always able to see me; if he couldn't see me, there's a good chance I couldn't see him. Needless to say, OS spent the night in our bed.
The next day as we were driving to the park, OS craned his head looking out the window. When I asked him what he was doing he told me he was looking for the lost dog. Great. Again I explained that there was no lost dog. More importantly, I told him that good grownups do not ask kids to help find lost dogs; they call the dog officer. OS knows our town's animal control officer, so that seemed to make sense to him. During the playgroup, Sally HP suggested that I might want to distract OS for a moment. From what? Well, there was a creepy old guy walking two dogs right near the fence. Visions of OS moving into my room permanently flashed through my head. Yes, YS you do have it made. Hmm...on second thought maybe not. Who knows what OS will tell YS?
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: There is a fine line between warning and terrifying children.
You know, I don't ever remember talking to my kids about strangers, however....
In passing, I've said "hi" or "thank you" to strangers who hold a door, etc (yes even in New England, it's happened quite a bit for me). Moe has taken to asking me, "who was that?". When I tell her I don't know, I always get a lecture on how I shouldn't talk to people I don't know. Hum, maybe that's why New Englander's are stuck up, they're just afraid of talking to strangers....
I screwed this all up royally when I did it the first go round, but thankfully the TV saved me with my second and subsequent kids. There is a DVD done by John Walsh and Julie Clark (the baby einstein lady) called Stranger Safety and it is goofy and quirky and I think takes the proper tone. The commercials made my older son BEG for this video, and it is great. Now all I have to do is ask "Who is your Safe-Side Adult" or "Did you check your safe circle" and they know what I'm talking about. You might want to check it out - if your libraries are any good they should have it. I'd send you mine but I need it for a few more years til the baby is old enough.
Yes, a while back I came up with a grand plan to rent my kids out to help end the teenage pregnancy crisis. Teenagers would spend a small amount of time with my kids and then immediately decide to practice abstinence or safe sex. I'm totally kidding about renting my kids out! However, I do think that my kids could have a positive impact on ending the teenage pregnancy crisis.
My new revised plan includes enlisting the help of two of my friends...specifically a friend with 4 kids and a friend with two kids including a newborn. Of course my two children are also involved. Here's how it works. You tell your teenager that you want to treat him or her to a nice lunch at let's say, just for example, the Cheesecake Factory. For a small fee you can have the "Distance Doesn't Matter Plan". For a larger fee you can have the "Up Close and Personal Plan". If you choose the latter you will be seated right next to my friends, our children, and me. Make sure to bring a change of clothes. Fear not if you choose the former. Our kids are loud enough that you will still be able to hear them even if you're across the restaurant. If all else fails, you may hear me someone shout out to her children that they better not pull her skirt up when trying to play hide and go seek under her brand-new slightly above the knee length skirt.
Throughout the meal you and your teenager will both witness and hear various runnings around, shenanigans, objects being tossed, and of course good old fashioned whining. For an added fee, one of the friends will be breastfeeding her baby while the whole restaurant watches waiters arrive singing happy birthday to her.
The grand finale of course will be later overhearing me one of the friends tell her husband that it went much better than expected and that she had a great time.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Children act like children.
Have you seen the new TV show based on this? They rent out a cul-de-sac and have several teenage couples living there. The couples take turns raining kids from age infants up to elderly parents. They totally stole your idea!
Oh my goodness this is hilarious. The woman breastfeeding while the waiters arrive to sing happy birthday is a nice touch. Can they put a funny hat on her head while they sing?
To be honest it works, well for me. My eldest sister is 15 years older than myself and as a teen I used to stay for the holidays and babysit a lot. She has 3 boys (almost grown now) who I love to peices but man they taught me the hard way that kids were hard work, all day every day. She also used to leave me in charge with half a dozen kids or more during the mothers coffee mornings anf gave me blow by blow accounts of her boys births. You just don't do that to 13 year olds without leaving lasting horrors :)
A few other moms have shared the idea of a free pass with me. This is when you give your child a "free pass" to skip a lesson or sports activity. I previously filed this idea in the back of my mind because my older son (OS) seemed sort of young to fully grasp this concept. It seems like just one of a number of concepts that preschoolers need to grow into. For example, his preschool teacher has also indicated that time is a very hard concept for 4 and 5 year olds.
Today though both boys were exhausted. (Quite frankly I was exhausted too.) OS started protesting that he didn't want to attend swim lesson today. My younger son (YS) had meltdown after meltdown. He even got into a "fight" with the dog when the dog had the audacity to glance at him while he was eating breakfast. I decided to test out the free pass. OS was pretty excited about it.
Later on, OS and I were discussing the fact that some of his friends will be visiting later this week. We did not agree on the timing of later. As a calendar-saavy adult, I am well aware that one friend will be visiting tomorrow and several other friends will be visiting on Thursday, but, in support of his teacher's claim that time is an advanced concept for someone his age, he insisted that one friend was coming over later today and others were coming over tomorrow.
I realized that OS may or may not understand the concept of free pass, but even if he does, he may not understand time well enough to remember that it is one pass per season when it comes time for next week's lesson. I might have to file the free pass with the "sore rope."
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The best things in life are free, including free passes.
I am all for the "you signed up for this activity and your team is counting on you, so you have to attend the practices and games" but I will, occasionally, know that we just need a break. That life WILL go on if we don't go to that soccer practice or Cub Scout game. And we DID Let the boys quit karate class, with only 2 lessons left, when they started crying before the classes... the instructor had a VERY loud voice and my eldest (who is sensitive to being yelled at) wasn't enjoying it at ALL.
It's usually me that wants the free pass, not my kids! As for the time thing, I made my kids each (well, the older 2!) an event calendar to help with that. I mark things like playdates on there and they can mark off the days until then. When they ask a million times when such-and-such is happening, I tell them to look at the calendar. It helps a little.
Free passes have been a godsend for us. I even give them to my students to opt out of one assignment per semester (just not the final exam or unit tests).
I think kids sometimes don't even realize they are taking on too much, and if they don't get down time it's like the domino effect, everything can topple for them. Sometimes they just need to rest.
Summer is almost here. The warm sun, the beaches, the parks, the longer days, no school, no school and longer days...oh the horror! 3 months with no preschool. What is one to do? Thankfully there's a four letter word that is the perfect solution: camp. We decided to sign our Older Son (OS) up for camp. I would have signed my younger son (YS), our dog Gandalf, our two cats too, and my husband up as well, but oddly enough I couldn't find a place to take all of them.
Last year OS went to camp at his preschool. All I had to do was mail in a form with a check. I assumed that all camps worked the same way, which is why I stopped at the front counter of the Y with my wallet out and asked to enroll OS. I was given a booklet with forms. I filled out the forms and then tried to submit them. It was no good because the application was considered incomplete without a copy of OS's medical records.
While annoying, I figured it wasn't too much of a problem because OS's pediatrician's office is on the way to preschool. I dropped off the forms at the doctor's office and then made a major mistake. I have no idea what I was thinking. I told the doctor's office not to mail the forms to me because I would just pick them up. It would be faster that way and the camp registration had a deadline after all. Yeah, I really don't know what planet I was on. I hate having to load and unload the kids on a good day. I can't think of a time where I've ever thought, "Wow, today I would like to add an extra trip so I can load and unload the kids, particularly at the doctor's office, where, now that the boys have practically memorized The Berenstein Bears Go to the Doctor, I have to reassure them that they will not be getting a booster shot." (They didn't even know what a booster shot was until we read them that book.)
Needless to say, it took a full week for me to manage getting everything together to drop off the camp forms...by myself. I stopped at Kinkos first to make extra copies of the medical records just in case.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: The US Postal Service is more efficient at picking up items from a doctor's office than a mom with small children.
Here's another hint: have copies of birth certificates, dental records, and social security cards. Trust me.
Oh, and I laughed at the post about them playing together and patting yourself on the back. I did the same tonight as I walked in to find the tv off (shocker!) and the boys playing Go Fish. I nearly cried with joy. Especially when they moved onto a fun game with their Pokemon figures! And then, I nearly DID cry when all h#ll broke loose over who was copying who and who couldn't make a decision and blah blah blah...
I think your husband already attends a camp called work. This is the same type of camp mine attends, and it is great because not only are they engaged every day, they are paid! I love this camp!
With my first triathlon tomorrow morning, I have been trying to be particularly careful in my eating and sleeping habits this week. I have also tried hard to manage my progressively escalating case of nerves as the week went on. So you might expect that I would have gone to sleep as early as possible yesterday. Almost as if I were in denial about my need for rest, I did the opposite, and enjoyed what was for me an unprecedented social opportunity that I could not refuse.
We had a fun evening typing talking and talking and talking. Plus there was fabulous food. We were the last ones to leave the restaurant. Hmmm...I bet my triathlon training buddy and our trainer would have something to say about that. If they ask me about it, I may need to deny it. Afterwards, we went to a bar. Relax! I was willing to stay out late for friends, but I did deny myself alcohol in order to avoid derailing my training and triathlon prep. Actually, I had such a good time that I really feel it helped me to relax before my big event tomorrow. The Big Giraffe also denied me the consequences of my late night by generously encouraging me to sleep in today! I certainly have something to say about his kindness.
I have enjoyed what SMID and Jenn have to say for almost as long as I have been blogging, and there was no denying from our prior meetings that SMID is a fabulous person. I quickly felt that I could say the same about Jenn. I have to admit that as much as I enjoyed getting to know Jen and getting to know SMID better, what most stuck with me today, other than just having a great time last night of course, was what Jenn had to say about Life in the Netherlands.
Of course, I had to find a metaphor in what Jenn described to apply to my own life. For example, Jenn described the way she shops by going from specialty store to specialty store like the cheese store, the nut store, and the bakery, just the way things used to be in the US before supermarkets became so prevalent, except that they bike everywhere. So today I didn't just go to the supermarket, but made a stop at a specialty store, Trader Joe's, to stoke my yogurt craving as well. Technically, I haven't ridden my bike in two days, but I will be on it bright and early tomorrow for the first leg of my triathlon. Yeah, not as nice and neat as in the Netherlands, but if you add biking and choosing the right store for each purchase... Of course, in the Netherlands, an employee would have started pulling together my usual order for me when I walked into the stores. Trader Joe's didn't even have my normal order; they were out of the cheaper Greek yogurt. I silently rejoiced at the "excuse" to buy the more expensive Greek yogurt that tastes twice as good.
Tomorrow's my big day. I'm all packed and just about ready to go to bed. I'm definitely nervous although not nearly as nervous as I would have thought. Apparently a night off was just the ticket.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: When preparing for something stressful, there is something to be said about denial.
Good Luck! I'm seriously in awe of you guys...you've worked really hard to meet this goal. An added bonus of the whole process is that you're modeling goal-setting/achievement for your kids at the same time that you got to do something for your kids...who could ask for more?!
Today I felt like I was on an international flight filled with preschoolers and babies. A flight where there was only one parent for every 2+ kids. In typical flight tradition, it was hot and there was hardly any room between seats. I was getting kicked by the kids behind me, and I had to pry my own kids off the seats in front of us on more than one occasion.
Parents all around me had diaper bags chock full of premiere snacks (aka junk food (aka bribe food)) for their kids. The ones who hadn't thought to do this were luckily able to purchase good bribe food. Some parents had thought to bring crayons, paper, books, toys, stickers, you name it to entertain their kids. Others like yours truly felt blessed that they hadn't cleaned out their diaper bags in a while and were able to pull out a bunch of cheap plastic toys.
Parents started out on a happy, enthusiastic note and cheerfully comforted their kids who were tired of sitting still. Within a short period of time, threats were being issued left and right. By the end I felt like an insane person. I was hot, tired and I felt like...well...I was on an international flight with little kids. Except I wasn't. I was at a free Bare Naked Ladies concert in Barnes and Noble.
Yes, you did read that right! BNL was promoting their new CD Snacktime. I have always imagined going to a BNL concert, although I never pictured two little kids hanging on me. I have to admit at first I thought this was some weird MA thing, I mean a concert in a bookstore, but it's actually a national tour. And it turned out to be totally worth it. I had a great time, and the boys really enjoyed themselves. In fact my younger son (YS) enjoyed himself so much that I had a flashback to a conversation with my aunt where she said YS had the personality of a golden retriever and would be one of those kids who is always up for a party. Watching YS quickly get into the groove and start clapping to the beat, caused me to make a mental note to remember to order some of the Say No pamphlets that are always advertised on TV. I'm kidding, he's just shy of two...but on the other hand he was really into it and I could picture him in his teenage years swaying back and forth with a lighter....
The concert was for 30 minutes. In addition to singing songs off their new album, they sang one of my favorite workout song, Another Postcard, and One Week. We even got to meet them after the show.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Bare Naked Ladies are definitely appropriate for small children.
I bought the CD yesterday morning at the local B&N and only then was I told that BNLs were playing in Framingham. I'm so sorry we missed the show! I saw them years ago at the Garden and they were fantastic.
I love BNL!! I have been a fan since their first album. They put on an awesome show. I will be getting this CD for sure. (I am now going to look for Canadian tour dates....)
Awesome, I love BareNaked Ladies! I've seen them in concert a number of times and they really know how to put on a great show. I didn't realize they'd made a kids album, but I'll have to check it out.
I remember when my older son (OS) was just a tiny baby. When I looked at him, I imagined that he would always be gurgling and sweet. Alright I knew that he wouldn't remain like that forever but to be honest whenever I saw kids melting down I did secretly believe that OS wouldn't ever do such a thing. Come on, you haven't ever wondered if it was the parent? Be honest.
Over time, I have come to accept, begrudgingly, OS's temper tantrums. Today however I had a big realization: OS is an instigator. There I said it. It's true though.
Sally HP and I were getting ready to drive back from the Magic Wings aka the Butterfly Museum. She had bought butterfly lollipops for the kids. She even commented on how great the sticks were because they were plastic and thus wouldn't dissolve and get all gross like regular lollipop sticks do. I was impressed with her thoughtfulness. I was also impressed with the size of the sticks. I worried that OS would use it to poke at his brother or Sally's son. Fortunately the kids were all excited about the candy and quietly ate it.
Or so I thought. Then we heard a noise...kind of a scratching sound. I was baffled about what it could be. Then Sally asked OS to stop scratching the ceiling of her car with his lollipop. That's right, OS quickly figured out that the nice long lollipop pole stick could reach the ceiling. Oh, and he didn't finish eating the candy first. Of course, the other two boys wanted in on the game and before we knew it all three of them were scratching the ceiling with their wet sticky lollipops. I believe Sally indicated that this is what she should have expected from giving kids lollipops attached to the end of fishing poles. I can't say for sure because I was laughing so hard.
Of course OS stopped doing the scratching while YS continued. In fact even after YS finished his candy, in between ceiling scratches (hope Sally's car ceiling is cleaner than mine), he still was waving the stick around oblivious to the fact that the game had been over for a while.
I'm sure that OS has been an instigator before today. In fact, I would bet it's even happened more than once, particularly with his younger brother. I just wasn't as aware of his new status as that kid. Since as the younger sibling, YS always follows the trends after his brother is done finished, it appears like they are his idea
Sally HP's Lesson Learned: Do not give children lollipops with long sticks when enclosed places.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: At some point your sweet baby will become that kid.
To read about our trip to Magic Wings, (gotta love that name) click here.
Yeah, it stinks when you realize that your kid is the bad influence in the bunch. Although when parents of kids younger than mine give me those looks I usually just think, "yeah, your kid will do it too. Just wait."
Tomorrow I'm hosting playgroup. Don't get me wrong, I think it's really important for me to host because first of all it's only fair and second my younger son (YS) definitely needs to work on being a gracious host and sharing his toys. It seems like the minute his brother is out of the room, he somehow adopts his persona and starts telling the cats, the dog, and I think perhaps one or two walls that the toys are his. Poor kid. However as an older sibling myself I can't help but give my older son (OS) a mental high five. Yes, I know it's wrong.
The downside of hosting, is that it required me to spend an insanely long period of time today "de-furring" my house. This is a playgroup/playdate ritual that substantial time vacuuming, mopping and wiping down counters and tables. I have given up my plans of scientifically proving this, but anecdotal evidence leaves me convinced that there is an inverse relationship between the amount of time spent cleaning and the amount of fur left in my living room: the more time I spend, I swear the more likely it is for a guest to be covered in fur. I know that doesn't seem right. It is far easier to explain the direct correlation between the amount of fur covering a guest and the skyrocketing of my heartrate.
The obvious answer would be just not to clean at all, but somehow the amount of fur is still excessive when I don't clean which is logical but defies my other previously cited experiences. I just can't figure it out. My ideal solution would be to post a sign on my door (and in my email signature) warning people that they may only wear navy blue or fleece in my house at their own risk. I could further recommend jeans (and denim jackets) as the safest clothing option. Of course, in a world of competitive stay-at-home parenting, admitting to giving in like that would be socially unacceptable.
So I spent much of the morning washing the base boards (no this isn't a regular chore) downstairs and removing a Blair Witch Project type handprint from one of my walls, and lying on my stomach sweeping out under the couches and entertainment center. When I finished, I stood up to admire my sparkling house, feeling great pride in my achievement. Then I looked down. Right on my belly was a giant dust bunny. Great. I had so little control over the dust, that it could feel safe sitting mockingly on my own body! I had failed to clean, and with the dust bunny sitting on my belly, I felt fat too. Those dust bunnies! It doesn't matter how clean I get my house; they can reduce my self esteem to nothing with one wrong hop.
A. Elliot's Lesson Learned: Whether or not you can stomach having dust around, it likes to belly up to you.
I also hate that I'm cleaning before the demolition crew of children come over. I mean, really? Where is the sanity in that? They're going to DESTROY the house, and I'm cleaning BEFOREhand?
Every night before we go to bed, Husband says to our giant white rabbit, "Good night, Tycho. Stay furry!" I think in doing this, he is encouraging Tycho not to shed everywhere, but his crafty plan never works. Add in the general New York City dust that infiltrates every apartment, and you get some frightening dust bunnies. One tried to shank me once. I swear.
My problem is the excessive amount of shedding my dog does. Fortunately, it's concentrated in one are of the house and not everywhere...but dangit if it doesn't haunt me.
Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
For those of us who didn't get an instruction manual with our babies and for whom parenting hasn't always gone as planned. On a more serious note this blog is about supporting a woman's ability to make her own choices about parenting including the choice, for whatever reason, to bottle feed her babies formula.
that all sounds like a very cool weekend!