Dispatches from Toddlerhood

My son has had allergies since the day he was born. It was never a big deal until it morphed into asthma.

Since then, I've gone out of my way to keep him away from any dirt, dust, pollution, or pollen, and especially smokers. It sounds maddening, but it was actually quite do-able until we moved to EUROPE (!!!)

I've instituted a strict "no outside shoes in the house" rule and vacuum every single day-- upstairs, downstairs, and the staircase, too. It's a thankless pain, but I'm happy to do it to keep my kid healthy...

...and for all of my efforts, I turn around today and find him with the dirty vacuum attachments in his MOUTH!

(Loud SIGHING)

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We went ahead and transitioned our son into a toddler bed along with our move.

It took a few days, but we finally found a nice one. Our son was so eager to have his very own "big boy bed" that he lay down and took a nap on it that afternoon.

I don't know why we bother to congratulate ourselves on our "parenting brilliance", because he has yet to actually sleep in it again...

Bedtime used to be tidy little process in our house. After our son's bath, we read stories and said prayers. Then, we'd play his lullaby CD, put him in his crib, give him a kiss, and leave the room. Most nights, he wasn't heard from again until late the next morning and I was free to clean, do laundry, blog, whatever... I was a blessed woman.

All that wonderfulness has been replaced with whining (his), begging (mine), and lots of crying (ours).

We've tried silently waking him back to his room a la SuperNanny, but the kid is relentless. We've offered brides and talk about all the exciting things planned for the next day "that will get here sooner" if he would... just... close... his... eyes.

We've stayed downstairs and ignored his screams of bloody murder at the gate, but I'm pretty sure that our neighbors hate us for that. (We share a wall on both sides.)

We've even tired making it bedtime for everyone. Hubby and I make a big production about turning out all of the lights and getting into our bed, but our son just comes into our room and yells "Get up!" repeatedly a mere three inches from my head.

Lately, we've just passed out from days upon days of exhaustion while he stays up and plays with his toys. Who knows what time his finally gets to bed... if ever.

Did I mention that he's usually up before we are? Yeah, it's maddening....

There have been a few mornings when we've found him asleep. We've woken up to find him curled up on the floor next to our bed or his, but ever IN his bed...

I'm about to do a little regressing of my own and put him back in a crib. At least, he had no choice but to stay there.

Any advice, Internet????

Parenting Holiday

One of the benefits of staying at my parents' house is access to all of the *free* cable I could ever want...

We gave up paying for cable when we no longer had the attention span for long, leisurely afternoon TV marathons. Basically when we became parents...

"How can you live without cable?" our friends always ask us.

"We just do," we always say.

So anyway.... all the free cable I want, right? So, natuarally, I've been obsessing over Jon & Kate Plus 8. I LOVE this show!

Yeah. I know. I know. Umm, heee-llo. Where have you been?

I may have been living under a rock, but I think I've watched practically every episode in just one weekend. Like I said, obsessed!

I just can't decide if this show make me feel smug or inadequate as a mom. Okay, "smug" is the wrong word... but, definitely inadequate.

I mean, I've been feeling trampled by my ONE toddler lately. I can't even imagine SIX... I guess that's why they have a show on TLC and I don't.

My husband has been gone for over a week now, and even though my parents have been great, it just not the same. First of all, there are no rules at my parents' house- no bedtimes, no set mealtimes, and... again, cable 'til your eye fall out.

My parents play the role of indulgent grandparents very well... as is their right, but that leaves me to be the "bad cop"... all... the... time. I'm so much better at being the "good cop"...

Well, good cop or not, I'm big on predictable daily routines and schedules and I know all too well that my parents simply... are NOT.

I don't expect my parents to change for my sake. However, I would prefer if they weren't the ones yelling and screaming "No, no, no. Not yet..." when I announce it's time for bath, books, and bed...

So in spite of what critics (and random commenters) have to say about "Jon & Kate", I love this show because it's what parenting as teamwork is all about.

It's not pretty and sometimes, not particularly polite, but at least everyone's on the same page and I miss that.... A LOT.

A page from my parenting playbook...

I kid you not. My EXACT words when I noticed my son eying this with peaked interest at his friend's birthday party...

"Honey, if you pull that plug the sun will go down"

What can I say? It was the first thing that popped into my head and a heck of a lot more interesting for my son than the usual, "Don't! Stop! No!"

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Click the button for more Monday hilarity and such.

Excuse me, while get on my soap box...

It drives me nuts when parents criticize their kids IN FRONT OF THEIR KIDS. Blogging out your frustrations or even discussing behavior issues with a spouse or a friend in private is one thing, but embarrassing your kid in front of your friends over a civilized, but casual meal in public is another...

I suppose there's isn't a tactful, non-judgemental, non-critical way to tell my friend this tactic for improving her kids' behavior is counter-productive...and uncomfortable for the rest of us.

You're right, there probably isn't and I should butt out.

Yes! Yes! Yes! I'm not the only one!!!

Last week was the most difficult, exhausting, frustrating week for me. In addition all the awful things happening out there, there's been a war brewing at home and I'm whipped.

It seems that my sweet, darling, well-behaved, easy-peasy, chilled-out, laid-back son has been possessed. How else can I explain the overnight 180 into a volatile, unpredictable, discontented teetering ball of energy?

It's true. Something has gotten into him and it's bad enough that even the playgroup mommies noticed and told him to "cheer up" as we left the park on Friday...

I used to know exactly how to keep him happy, entertained, and satisfied, and now it seems like there's NOTHING I can do to please him. Tantrum have become a major staple of our day, rather than the exception, and they are unusually over the most ridiculous, impossible things no one can control like his toys not being able to stand on their heads (hello, rules of gravity) or the refrigerator not moving when he pushes it...

It's bad enough that to have to tell an irrational person, "no", but then there's the being trapped in my house, where I can't eat, launder, cook, clean, organize, potty, or put away until my son's sleeps because he is RIGHT THERE as soon as I so much as crack open the fridge, closet, or cabinet to get something...

Our son likes to get into everything and gets soooo frustrated when I won't let him hurt himself. Within seconds, he is unloading all of the glass-jarred jams and jellies from the fridge door or trying to pull down a toaster oven on to his head. He goes ballistic if I won't let him play in the trash cans or crawl into the dishwasher to get at the steak knives. No interest in spoons or plastic bowls, just the stuff that will poke his eyes out...

I get so caught up in just keeping him safe and sound during the day, that I forget the most obvious things I mommy should know.

...like, uh, putting sunscreen on my son before he goes to the park or a jacket when it's cold outside... What kind of mom am I????

Each day as my husband (thankfully) takes over his bedtime routine, I collapse, exhausted and emotionally drained, and ask myself, "...and I left my job for THIS?'

My awesome job where I was praised constantly, people listened when I talked, and I knew exactly what I was doing (and even if I didn't, someone was always there to tell me what to do).

I never once doubted whether or not I was good at my job or felt any guilt over it. I left my career which I WAS GOOD AT to be in this nebulous world of self-doubt, isolation, and guilt... this world where I am at the whim of a 12 month old...WHY????"

One afternoon, as he was down for his nap, I called a friend to vent, but she was generally unsympathetic. Next, I called my husband and blubbered endlessly about being an awful mother, having no one to turn to, blah, blah...

I begged him to "puh-lease, come home", but no luck. I was on my own. Completely and totally on my own....

That is until I logged on and found this from a favorite blog of yours and mine, amalah . com

Noah's throwing a million tantrums a day, probably because he feels like shit and isn't sleeping well either, but after the 999,999th hissyfit of the day my sympathy is ALL TAPPED OUT. Seriously, son. An inability to get the fridge magnets lined up precisely to your liking is no reason to get all freaking nuclear and screamy.

Yes! Yes! Yes! I'm not the only one!!! Thanks so much for that,. You have no idea how much that made me feel better... even if it sounds like you're having a rought time too.

OMG! I have a Toddler

My son has a fat lip.

No, I did NOT beat him. He took a flying leap off some playgroup equipment yesterday and landed on his face. A stunt that earned him the nickname of "Danger Mouse".

What was a slightly swollen lip at the time morphed into two full-blown blood bruises on the top of his mouth by this morning. I suspect it looks more painful than it actually is since it hasn't seemed to hinder him in anyway-- eating or otherwise.

My husband tells me that I should get used to the bumps and bruises that inevitably comes with a little boy. Apparently, this is nothing... I guess I'm still a little faint of heart when it come to anything hurting my son.

At the grocery store early today, a smart-alecky cashier asked, "What happened to him?!"

What happened is that he turned one and became a toddler...

Oh my GOD, I have a toddler!!!!

...and the rules of the game have completely changed. Why has no one brought this to my attention until now?

At his one year check-up with the pediatrician, I was told he's in perfect health and just the right size for a FIFTEEN MONTH OLD. It seems there was nothing wrong with giving my child formula and store-bought baby food after all. Hmmm....

The perfectly nutritious formula and baby food that I was also told that I should replace with whole milk and wholesome well-balanced meals constituted of non-choking hazard, non-allergen table food.

With the exception of dinner, I can barely get it together to feed myself a decent meal during the day. Now, I have to prepare FIVE for my son... and supervise for the entire two hours it takes for him to feed himself. That is, of course, if he doesn't get bored with eating first.

He lets me know when he's ready to be excused by sharing his food with the dog we do not and have never owned....

He starts with dropping bits of food on the floor when he thinks I'm not looking. Once he has my full attention, he usually empties his tray with one grand sweeping motion and smears the rest of it on his chair, in his hair, and his clothes.

I'm not sure what I can do to make him stop throwing food on the floor. I don't exactly have time to find the solution in the numerous parenting books people have recommended. Relying on my own devices, I've tried being stern, slowly and clearly explaining to him why...

we...

don't...

throw...

food...

I've tired sending him to bed, I've tried ignoring him, and I've tried humor.

While humor works great in getting the point across with my peers, somehow the subtext gets lost on the kid. No matter how I react, he just thinks we're playing a game and keeps doing it with an adorable smile.

Ah, yes, discipline. About that... um, I have to start doing it.

I admit, I've had it easy. My son used to just do things out of curiosity, pure and simple. Not out of defiance. Not out of frustration or anger. Not to get attention. Just because it seems fun at the time and who can't appreciate the joy in that. My job was to make sure he stayed clean and didn't get hurt.

Ahem! A task that was getting increasingly tougher as evidenced by the fat lip...

I can tell when he looks me right in the eye and throws his lunch at me with that knowing grin and mischievous laugh, he's challenging me to a duel of wills.

I think he's winning....

With my son being a toddler now, it just seems like a whole lot more is being expected of him... and more alarmingly, of me as well.