All parents make mistakes. There is no such thing as a perfect parent or a parent who doesn't need advice from a parenting book. Ken and I have already made mistakes, but hopefully none are serious infraction.
While not a complete blunder, one of my misjudgements of which I am frequently reminded occurred about two years ago while pregnant. In a particularly protuberant state, the daily task of bathing VV became too laborious. So, at eight months expectant, the best way I could manage scrubing the Brooklyn filth from my eldest child required my joining her in the tub. With my naked presense in the bath, VV was infatuated with my bulbous body. Not noticing the significant rise in the water level, VV immediately pointed to my bulging mammaries. "What is that?" she pointed.
Promising myself to have an open relationship with my offspring, I reponded, "These are my boobs!" This became part of our daily routine for four or five weeks, at which point, she discovered her first naked Barbie at a friend's house, pointed, and declared, "Boobs!"
Mortified, I reproached myself. What was I thinking? When pressed, why couldn't I have said, This is my chest? Or bosom, or even breast? Why did I have to blurt out, "These are my boobs!"?
At opportune times, I've tried to ingrain new vocabulary to no avail. So, to a certain extent, I've given up on teaching VV more appropriate terminology for that part of the body. Fortunately, so far, I have not made the same mistake with my second child. Then again, that part of my body is no longer a major attraction. My sister even refers to them as having gone "native".
Yet, somehow, the older kids always seem to glob onto those parental mistakes and teach their younger siblings exactly what you were hoping they would forget.
Last night, during bathtime, Dagny stood, pointed to her child-like nipples and exclaimed, "BOOBIES!"
Clearly, I know WHO taught her this? But, WHEN did she learn such terminology? Do I really want to know?
Kids always seem to magnify parental faults.
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Timing is Everything
I realize it's an age-old problem between parents and children. There is no doubt I did it to my parents, and I now understand and share their frustration. Parents ask their children if they can perform some function for a child's benefit, such as getting a snack, tying shoes, helping with the potty, etc. The child emphatically declares, "No thanks," or simply ignores the parent. After repeated offerings, parents accept the repudiation and engross themselves in an independent activity like preparing a meal, reading a book or folding laundry. Within five or ten minutes, children interrupt and demand the parent perform recently offered function without delay.
Such exchanges plagued my day, yesterday.
Eample #1 from yesterday morning: "Daaaaaagny, let's get dressed!"
With her devilish grin, Dags shouted, "NO!" and giggled as she ran circles between the bedroom and bathroom.
Fine, I'll change tactics. "VV, it's time to brush your teeth."
"I ALREADY DID," VV, half-dressed, reponded joining the circle running game with her sister.
"OK, what about brushing your hair?"
"NOT YET," she rebuked, probably thinking, "I'm too busy and having too much fun chasing my sister."
Fine, I began to make the beds. Just as I pulled up the first sheet on one bed, I heard, " MOMMY, I NEED HELP! COME BRUSH MY HAIR. HUUUURRRRRYYYYYY!" Ugh! Just as I started to brush VV's hair, Dags hobbled into the bathroom, with a leg stuck in the arm-hole of a shirt, "HEP, HEP" she cried, "AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH, HEP, HEP!" (2 year old speak for help). The beds could be made later.
Example #2 from yesterday before school: "VV are you ready to put your shoes on?"
No response. "VV, we are leaving for school, are you wearing shoes to school today?" Silence.
Fine. "Dagny, go get your coat. We're leaving for school." Nothing, they were engrossed in Dragon Tales. There was time to kill before leaving, so, I turned my attention to folding laundry. Within five minutes, my eardrums were assaulted with, "AAAAAHHH, MOMMY, I CAN'T GET MY SHOES ON. HEEEELLLLLPPPPP, IT'S ANNOYING ME! HUUUURRRRRYYYY!" Simultaneously, "HEP, HEP, GET MY JACKET!" The laundry could wait.
Example #3 from yesterday afternoon: "Dags, would you like some string cheese?" She responded with her new expression, "Yeah!" and I reached into the refrigerator.
"VV would you like string cheese?"
"NO THANK YOU!" So I sat down at the computer to check my email. I read no more than two messages, when the little beggar loomed by my left arm asking, "MOMMY, WHERE IS MY STRING CHEESE? I WANT SOME TOO!" Email messages would be postponed.
These were only three of the examples that come to immediate mind from yesterday.
And my darling, patient husband wonders why I am nothing less than irritated with the entire family by the 7pm bathtime.
SERENITY NOW!
Such exchanges plagued my day, yesterday.
Eample #1 from yesterday morning: "Daaaaaagny, let's get dressed!"
With her devilish grin, Dags shouted, "NO!" and giggled as she ran circles between the bedroom and bathroom.
Fine, I'll change tactics. "VV, it's time to brush your teeth."
"I ALREADY DID," VV, half-dressed, reponded joining the circle running game with her sister.
"OK, what about brushing your hair?"
"NOT YET," she rebuked, probably thinking, "I'm too busy and having too much fun chasing my sister."
Fine, I began to make the beds. Just as I pulled up the first sheet on one bed, I heard, " MOMMY, I NEED HELP! COME BRUSH MY HAIR. HUUUURRRRRYYYYYY!" Ugh! Just as I started to brush VV's hair, Dags hobbled into the bathroom, with a leg stuck in the arm-hole of a shirt, "HEP, HEP" she cried, "AAAAAAHHHHHHHHH, HEP, HEP!" (2 year old speak for help). The beds could be made later.
Example #2 from yesterday before school: "VV are you ready to put your shoes on?"
No response. "VV, we are leaving for school, are you wearing shoes to school today?" Silence.
Fine. "Dagny, go get your coat. We're leaving for school." Nothing, they were engrossed in Dragon Tales. There was time to kill before leaving, so, I turned my attention to folding laundry. Within five minutes, my eardrums were assaulted with, "AAAAAHHH, MOMMY, I CAN'T GET MY SHOES ON. HEEEELLLLLPPPPP, IT'S ANNOYING ME! HUUUURRRRRYYYY!" Simultaneously, "HEP, HEP, GET MY JACKET!" The laundry could wait.
Example #3 from yesterday afternoon: "Dags, would you like some string cheese?" She responded with her new expression, "Yeah!" and I reached into the refrigerator.
"VV would you like string cheese?"
"NO THANK YOU!" So I sat down at the computer to check my email. I read no more than two messages, when the little beggar loomed by my left arm asking, "MOMMY, WHERE IS MY STRING CHEESE? I WANT SOME TOO!" Email messages would be postponed.
These were only three of the examples that come to immediate mind from yesterday.
And my darling, patient husband wonders why I am nothing less than irritated with the entire family by the 7pm bathtime.
SERENITY NOW!
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Molars and Diapers
What do 2 yr molars and loose poopy diapers have in common?
They are the cause of my affliction. If Dags doesn't cut these molars soon and cease her nasty diaper routine all day long, mommy is going to yak herself into a coma.
Dearest Dagny,
Both of our lives would be much simpler if you would believe me when I say, "Honey, it's time for a new diaper." PLEASE stop making a hide-and-seek game out of this necessary event, especially when we are already five minutes late picking up your lovely sister from preschool. The sooner we tidy your stinky behind, the more likely the uncomfortable rash on your rump will dissipate and our lives will return to a more peaceful state.
Love unconditionally,
Mommy
They are the cause of my affliction. If Dags doesn't cut these molars soon and cease her nasty diaper routine all day long, mommy is going to yak herself into a coma.
Dearest Dagny,
Both of our lives would be much simpler if you would believe me when I say, "Honey, it's time for a new diaper." PLEASE stop making a hide-and-seek game out of this necessary event, especially when we are already five minutes late picking up your lovely sister from preschool. The sooner we tidy your stinky behind, the more likely the uncomfortable rash on your rump will dissipate and our lives will return to a more peaceful state.
Love unconditionally,
Mommy
Identical Objects of Affection
As a mother of two daughters whose ages are six days short of two years apart, I buy most things in sets of two. Whether it be a coloring book, a child purse or a coat, I usually buy two of nearly everything. Not always are the bought objects identical, but often times they are.
When I was pregnant with Dags, I happened to purchase two identical orange nylon fabric Halloween bags. Valerie used one for Halloween at 18 months old. I saved the second bag for Dagny's use. These bags were of interest to my offspring today. As requested, I pulled them down from the closet shelf. Upon snatching them from my fingertips, the girls individually played with the one they received. As of yet, we have not imprinted their names. Being that they are identical, I view the bags as interchangeable.
Apparently, VV and Dags feel differently.
Early this afternoon, VV and Dags brawled over one specific orange nylon fabric Halloween bag, while the rejected identical bag sat on the sideline less than three feet away. Acting as the rational referee, I displayed the identical rejected bag to each contender, but was quickly rebuffed. Thereafter, I decided that they should work it out on their own. If they were going to be so stubborn and act ridiculously, I figured they would have to suffer the consequences of their actions. That is part of life, eh? When the battle continued for more that fifteen minutes, I broke it up by confiscating the disputed bag and corralled them to their respective rooms.
During the subsequent ceasefire, I reflected that I had participated in many such feuds with my own siblings. Growing up, my younger sister and I often received identical objects. However, in our eyes, one particular object was always nicer, cleaner, and somehow, generally better. Even now, I guess my sister and I still have these small tiffs, but we don't hit each other to show domination. Nowdays, it's usually a verbal battle.
For now, I'll just chalk up today's conflict to sibling rivalry and move on to bigger things. Still, it never ceases to amaze me.
When I was pregnant with Dags, I happened to purchase two identical orange nylon fabric Halloween bags. Valerie used one for Halloween at 18 months old. I saved the second bag for Dagny's use. These bags were of interest to my offspring today. As requested, I pulled them down from the closet shelf. Upon snatching them from my fingertips, the girls individually played with the one they received. As of yet, we have not imprinted their names. Being that they are identical, I view the bags as interchangeable.
Apparently, VV and Dags feel differently.
Early this afternoon, VV and Dags brawled over one specific orange nylon fabric Halloween bag, while the rejected identical bag sat on the sideline less than three feet away. Acting as the rational referee, I displayed the identical rejected bag to each contender, but was quickly rebuffed. Thereafter, I decided that they should work it out on their own. If they were going to be so stubborn and act ridiculously, I figured they would have to suffer the consequences of their actions. That is part of life, eh? When the battle continued for more that fifteen minutes, I broke it up by confiscating the disputed bag and corralled them to their respective rooms.
During the subsequent ceasefire, I reflected that I had participated in many such feuds with my own siblings. Growing up, my younger sister and I often received identical objects. However, in our eyes, one particular object was always nicer, cleaner, and somehow, generally better. Even now, I guess my sister and I still have these small tiffs, but we don't hit each other to show domination. Nowdays, it's usually a verbal battle.
For now, I'll just chalk up today's conflict to sibling rivalry and move on to bigger things. Still, it never ceases to amaze me.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Turning of the Tide
Over a year ago, when Dagny was an immobile baby and Valerie was the agile preschooler, I often observed Valerie tormenting her baby sister. I distinctly remember hearing shrieks of delight coming from Dagny's mouth as I ran from the kitchen to the family room in pursuit of the cause. Much to my dismay, I discovered, Valerie jumping on Dagny until the contents of Dagny's stomache spewed onto the carpet. Despite the torment, Dags was enamored by her big sister at whatever the cost.
During less stressful moments, Ken and I somewhat jokingly discussed that a time would come when our younger, jolly and brutish child would torment our older, sensitive and dainty one.
During the past weekend, upon hearing what I thought were playful hollers, I walked into the toy room to discover Dags in a boisterous rant while twirling VV in a circle with a wad of VV's shirt in Dagny's little mitts. At best, VV looked bewildered.
While I should have gotten to the root of the cause and disallowed such behavior, undetected, I shook my head and walked away. A good part of me realizes that Valerie had it coming.
Evidently, the tides have turned.
During less stressful moments, Ken and I somewhat jokingly discussed that a time would come when our younger, jolly and brutish child would torment our older, sensitive and dainty one.
During the past weekend, upon hearing what I thought were playful hollers, I walked into the toy room to discover Dags in a boisterous rant while twirling VV in a circle with a wad of VV's shirt in Dagny's little mitts. At best, VV looked bewildered.
While I should have gotten to the root of the cause and disallowed such behavior, undetected, I shook my head and walked away. A good part of me realizes that Valerie had it coming.
Evidently, the tides have turned.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Panty Plight
It seems to me that children with older siblings may get jipped out of some attention from parents and relatives. But, the younger children are exposed to concepts and activities at an earlier age. To them, this exposure is an advantage while to the surrounding grown-ups, it often seems like a disadvantage because it adds to our workload.
Admittedly, I am remiss in my domestic organizational obligations. Lazily, a few months ago, I moved the panties falling into the "too-small for Valerie category" directly into Dagny's drawer without messing with the "in-storage" stage.
Despite Dagny's accessibility to panties, I am of the opinion that Dagny, being a 22-month old busy-body, is not quite ready for potty training, so I've avoided broaching the tiresome milestone altogether. While I may have placed that nasty germ-magnet of a little potty in a convenient location for her to access when she's good and ready, she still tends to pee all over the carpets whenever provided with an opportunity to be diaper-free between diaper changes and bath routines sans mentioning a need for the potty. Nevertheless, she enjoys following her big sister into the bathroom to participate in the potty experience, despite her diaper and clothes remaining connected to her body.
Over the last couple of days, Valerie, being the big sister, has encouraged Dagny to wear panties. Being a responsible parent, I have insisted said panties be worn OVER a diaper. What started out to be good fun has turned into a wild obsession. Early one morning a couple of days ago, Dagny started the day wearing one pair of panties over her diaper. At breakfast, I discovered Dagny toting a few pairs of panties in her walkabout purse. Within an hour, I responded to shrill shrieks of frustration to find her battling with more panties to put them over her pants outfit. With my help, we decided to set a new toddler trend....
After naps, I overheard Valerie encouraging a new activity, "Dagny, let's go get ALL the panties in our room and wear them!" Two giggling darlings ran away as I continued with my domestic duties, enjoying the quiet. After awhile, I, again, heard shrieks of frustration, to discover Dagny lying down and Valerie hunched over her in an attempt to get something like 8 pairs of panties on her sister's little body. Again, with my help, it appears Baby Hughey just may have joined our family.....
So far, this is a fun activity, which helps to push off the inevitable need to potty train my youngest. I'm doubtful, but hopeful that this can continue for another six to nine months....
Admittedly, I am remiss in my domestic organizational obligations. Lazily, a few months ago, I moved the panties falling into the "too-small for Valerie category" directly into Dagny's drawer without messing with the "in-storage" stage.
Despite Dagny's accessibility to panties, I am of the opinion that Dagny, being a 22-month old busy-body, is not quite ready for potty training, so I've avoided broaching the tiresome milestone altogether. While I may have placed that nasty germ-magnet of a little potty in a convenient location for her to access when she's good and ready, she still tends to pee all over the carpets whenever provided with an opportunity to be diaper-free between diaper changes and bath routines sans mentioning a need for the potty. Nevertheless, she enjoys following her big sister into the bathroom to participate in the potty experience, despite her diaper and clothes remaining connected to her body.
Over the last couple of days, Valerie, being the big sister, has encouraged Dagny to wear panties. Being a responsible parent, I have insisted said panties be worn OVER a diaper. What started out to be good fun has turned into a wild obsession. Early one morning a couple of days ago, Dagny started the day wearing one pair of panties over her diaper. At breakfast, I discovered Dagny toting a few pairs of panties in her walkabout purse. Within an hour, I responded to shrill shrieks of frustration to find her battling with more panties to put them over her pants outfit. With my help, we decided to set a new toddler trend....
After naps, I overheard Valerie encouraging a new activity, "Dagny, let's go get ALL the panties in our room and wear them!" Two giggling darlings ran away as I continued with my domestic duties, enjoying the quiet. After awhile, I, again, heard shrieks of frustration, to discover Dagny lying down and Valerie hunched over her in an attempt to get something like 8 pairs of panties on her sister's little body. Again, with my help, it appears Baby Hughey just may have joined our family.....
So far, this is a fun activity, which helps to push off the inevitable need to potty train my youngest. I'm doubtful, but hopeful that this can continue for another six to nine months....
Why Are You Closing Your Eyes?
Being it was Easter today, Valerie agreed to attend a church service with me this morning while Dags and daddy stayed home. Usually, when we go to church, Valerie goes to a little Sunday school class to hear a bible story, do a craft, eat a snack and burn energy swinging on a jungle gym. The church we know makes a big beautiful production of Easter and I thought today VV may actually gain something by experiencing a real church experience for once.
By no means could anyone call me an observant religious person. In fact, my attendance at spiritual services is spotty at best. I have my own beliefs that are comfortable for me. I don't like other people telling me what I should believe and how I should do it and I hope that I never do that to others. However, I do enjoy listening to a pastor's sermon when I can connect their message to my own life. Now, being a parent and realizing that our government is based on Judeo-Christian principles and our society has Judeo-Christian values, I feel a strong responsibility to educate my children about spirituality in our country. At some point, they may reject or embrace religion, but that will be their independent choice. My job as a parent is to provide my children with options they may find useful duing their lives.
Knowing that today's service could be long, I thought I arrived prepared with a banana and raisins in the event VV desparately needed nourishment. Fortunately, we received a program and ink pen as Easter "freebies". These tools definitely helped to occupy her during the 70 minutes service.
Things started off great! VV was entertained by the lively music, beautifully dressed people, and the general buzz of the crowd. This church happens to be nondenominational, so they do things in a unique fashion. The ushers passed around communion within the first five minutes of arrival - perhaps to get such formalities out of the way. Admittedly, I have not participated in communion probably since 8th grade, so I just passed along along the tray. Curiously, VV stared at the grape juice & immediately announced that she was thirsty! I explained that the grape juice was really communion and that she could participate when she grows up and learns what communion means. I figured it was too complicated to tell her it represents Christ's body and is supposedly a means for washing away the sins of mere mortals. I can only imagine her questions.... Who's Christ? What's a sin? Ewe... we're eating someone's body? That's gross...... Yep, a little too young to have that conversation. I think it helped that I passed the tray along without partaking. Fortunately, any debate was averted.
During most of the service, the pastor focused on the usual Easter topic - why Jesus died, how He died, how He was buried and why He was resurrected. Of course, during all of this, VV diligently drew pictures on her program. She seemed fairly content & I figured her absorption of the pastor's words was minimal. Overall, I felt relieved that she did not disturb other parishoners. At one point, the pastor exclaimed that Easter was not just about bunnies and eggs. At which point, VV retaliated with bright, happy eyes and a confident voice, "The Easter Bunny came to my house last night! He brought eggs to my house! The eggs were on the stairs - it was SO funny!" I quickly agreed with her and hushed her. Then, I apologetically looked for bothered nearby listeners. Fortunately, kind eyes met my own.
As the preacher finished his lecture, the congregation bowed their heads in a final prayer. I followed suit, but quickly peeked at VV. I watched her eyes move from person to person and finally her eyes met mine. She sweetly asked, "Why are you closing your eyes mommy? Why is everyone closing their eyes?"
I responded, "We are praying sweatheart. Praying means we are talking to God."
VV looked pensive, but seemed to respect the congregation's moment of silence. She smiled up at me, climbed on my lap and hugged me. At some point, she will ask me who God is. If she asks her daddy, he will retort with a smart aleck comment. Yet, part of me dreads her posing the question to me. I guess that I better determine a cogent response soon! That question is surely to arrive any day.
In the meantime, I will bask in her angelic behavior at this morning's Easter service.
By no means could anyone call me an observant religious person. In fact, my attendance at spiritual services is spotty at best. I have my own beliefs that are comfortable for me. I don't like other people telling me what I should believe and how I should do it and I hope that I never do that to others. However, I do enjoy listening to a pastor's sermon when I can connect their message to my own life. Now, being a parent and realizing that our government is based on Judeo-Christian principles and our society has Judeo-Christian values, I feel a strong responsibility to educate my children about spirituality in our country. At some point, they may reject or embrace religion, but that will be their independent choice. My job as a parent is to provide my children with options they may find useful duing their lives.
Knowing that today's service could be long, I thought I arrived prepared with a banana and raisins in the event VV desparately needed nourishment. Fortunately, we received a program and ink pen as Easter "freebies". These tools definitely helped to occupy her during the 70 minutes service.
Things started off great! VV was entertained by the lively music, beautifully dressed people, and the general buzz of the crowd. This church happens to be nondenominational, so they do things in a unique fashion. The ushers passed around communion within the first five minutes of arrival - perhaps to get such formalities out of the way. Admittedly, I have not participated in communion probably since 8th grade, so I just passed along along the tray. Curiously, VV stared at the grape juice & immediately announced that she was thirsty! I explained that the grape juice was really communion and that she could participate when she grows up and learns what communion means. I figured it was too complicated to tell her it represents Christ's body and is supposedly a means for washing away the sins of mere mortals. I can only imagine her questions.... Who's Christ? What's a sin? Ewe... we're eating someone's body? That's gross...... Yep, a little too young to have that conversation. I think it helped that I passed the tray along without partaking. Fortunately, any debate was averted.
During most of the service, the pastor focused on the usual Easter topic - why Jesus died, how He died, how He was buried and why He was resurrected. Of course, during all of this, VV diligently drew pictures on her program. She seemed fairly content & I figured her absorption of the pastor's words was minimal. Overall, I felt relieved that she did not disturb other parishoners. At one point, the pastor exclaimed that Easter was not just about bunnies and eggs. At which point, VV retaliated with bright, happy eyes and a confident voice, "The Easter Bunny came to my house last night! He brought eggs to my house! The eggs were on the stairs - it was SO funny!" I quickly agreed with her and hushed her. Then, I apologetically looked for bothered nearby listeners. Fortunately, kind eyes met my own.
As the preacher finished his lecture, the congregation bowed their heads in a final prayer. I followed suit, but quickly peeked at VV. I watched her eyes move from person to person and finally her eyes met mine. She sweetly asked, "Why are you closing your eyes mommy? Why is everyone closing their eyes?"
I responded, "We are praying sweatheart. Praying means we are talking to God."
VV looked pensive, but seemed to respect the congregation's moment of silence. She smiled up at me, climbed on my lap and hugged me. At some point, she will ask me who God is. If she asks her daddy, he will retort with a smart aleck comment. Yet, part of me dreads her posing the question to me. I guess that I better determine a cogent response soon! That question is surely to arrive any day.
In the meantime, I will bask in her angelic behavior at this morning's Easter service.
Saturday, March 26, 2005
New Picnic Table
Grandma & Grandpa sent an early birthday gift - a new picnic table! We set it up & ate lunch there today...
It's so nice and sturdy. We love it & will get lots of use out of it!
Later, we even decorated Easter cookies on the new picnic table....
Since we made such a mess, mom just hosed down the cement and cleaned up in less than 2 minutes! It's a great new addition to our outdoor living space!
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
It's so nice and sturdy. We love it & will get lots of use out of it!
Later, we even decorated Easter cookies on the new picnic table....
Since we made such a mess, mom just hosed down the cement and cleaned up in less than 2 minutes! It's a great new addition to our outdoor living space!
Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Don't Mess It Up
I've started a new hobby. A couple of weeks ago I learned to knit. Admittedly, I'm not such a crafty person, but I gave it a go. After making several mistakes on my first go-around, I successfully knitted an adult scarf. During the process of making the first scarf, Valerie persistently pestered me to make her the next one. I promised that the next one would be hers and even took her to JoAnn's so she could pick her own yarn. Of course, it HAD to be pink!
In the process of making the scarf, Valerie announced, "Mommy, if you mess it up, I'm not going to wear it!" Being that she's not even four years old, I was a little taken aback.
Fortunately, I had my wits about me & retorted, "That's okay, I'll just give it to Dagny."
She waited a brief moment, focusing on the sibling rivalry between she and her sister and responded with, "Oh, I'm just kidding mommy. I guess I'll wear it anyway...."
So, this morning, the scarf was finished and waiting for her at the breakfast table. You can see it hanging from the coat rack in the picture below. I like to call it the "Bubblegum scarf."
She saw it, smiled, and said, "Mommy, GOOD JOB! Thank you SOOO much! I love it! Can I have a big hug & kiss?"
She made my day!
In the process of making the scarf, Valerie announced, "Mommy, if you mess it up, I'm not going to wear it!" Being that she's not even four years old, I was a little taken aback.
Fortunately, I had my wits about me & retorted, "That's okay, I'll just give it to Dagny."
She waited a brief moment, focusing on the sibling rivalry between she and her sister and responded with, "Oh, I'm just kidding mommy. I guess I'll wear it anyway...."
So, this morning, the scarf was finished and waiting for her at the breakfast table. You can see it hanging from the coat rack in the picture below. I like to call it the "Bubblegum scarf."
She saw it, smiled, and said, "Mommy, GOOD JOB! Thank you SOOO much! I love it! Can I have a big hug & kiss?"
She made my day!
Monday, March 21, 2005
Don't Mess With A Girl & Her Chocolate
Having missed their spring school party on Friday, the girls returned home from school with their "goodie" bags containing more candy than I would prefer. We agreed that no candy would be consumed until naps were concluded. In my view, we had reached a clear meeting of the minds. The minute we stepped into the house with those cavity-causing sacks, trouble started.
From past experience with goodie bags, I have mysteriously discovered candy wrappers under cocktail tables and behind couches. In retrospect, I guess I should have suspected mischievous behavior when the girls were curiously quiet and left me to organize the kitchen in peace. However, they are usually clever enough to wipe the evidence of chocolate from their little lips prior to my uncovering the crime.
Today was different, Valerie appeared to comply with our candy agreement. However, I caught Dagny magnetized to a piece of chocolate fighting with the wrapper in hopes of popping it into her salivating mouth. Of course, I snagged the half unwrapped piece of chocolate and reminded her that she could eat it after her nap. This threw her into an unstoppable rage. I spent the better part of ten minutes attempting to cajole her upstairs and into her bed.
After putting Valerie into her "quiet time" mode, I resorted to carrying Dagny to her room, setting her onto the bed, kissing her, pulling up the covers and leaving the room - all while she continued to scream. Within moments she followed me back downstairs to continue raging at the counter attempting to coax the chocolate off the counter and into her salivating mouth. Being a less-than-lenient parent, I checked my email, made my lunch & even managed to eat while Dagny howled for that chocolate. As I expected, she eventually broke down and I gently walked the whimpering child to her room for a nap.
Upon awaking from the nap, I offered Dagny the promised chocolate and she happily held it in her hand. Yes, you read that correctly, she just held it in her hand..... For the next hour or two, I periodically asked her if she planned to eat it. She shook her head "no". I asked if she wanted to throw it away. She shook her head "no". After a few hours, I stopped monitoring the chocolate. I guess my own attention span is only so long. In fact, I completely lost track of the chocolate. At this point, I have no idea if she actually ate the treasured chocoloate.
I just may discover that precious chocolate ground into my carpet, hiding in a cabinet, stuck to a counter or who knows where. The other wonderment I have is WHEN will I find it - tomorrow, next week, next month, or even next year?
Again, she could have eaten it which would be the best scenario. But then again, maybe she didn't......
From past experience with goodie bags, I have mysteriously discovered candy wrappers under cocktail tables and behind couches. In retrospect, I guess I should have suspected mischievous behavior when the girls were curiously quiet and left me to organize the kitchen in peace. However, they are usually clever enough to wipe the evidence of chocolate from their little lips prior to my uncovering the crime.
Today was different, Valerie appeared to comply with our candy agreement. However, I caught Dagny magnetized to a piece of chocolate fighting with the wrapper in hopes of popping it into her salivating mouth. Of course, I snagged the half unwrapped piece of chocolate and reminded her that she could eat it after her nap. This threw her into an unstoppable rage. I spent the better part of ten minutes attempting to cajole her upstairs and into her bed.
After putting Valerie into her "quiet time" mode, I resorted to carrying Dagny to her room, setting her onto the bed, kissing her, pulling up the covers and leaving the room - all while she continued to scream. Within moments she followed me back downstairs to continue raging at the counter attempting to coax the chocolate off the counter and into her salivating mouth. Being a less-than-lenient parent, I checked my email, made my lunch & even managed to eat while Dagny howled for that chocolate. As I expected, she eventually broke down and I gently walked the whimpering child to her room for a nap.
Upon awaking from the nap, I offered Dagny the promised chocolate and she happily held it in her hand. Yes, you read that correctly, she just held it in her hand..... For the next hour or two, I periodically asked her if she planned to eat it. She shook her head "no". I asked if she wanted to throw it away. She shook her head "no". After a few hours, I stopped monitoring the chocolate. I guess my own attention span is only so long. In fact, I completely lost track of the chocolate. At this point, I have no idea if she actually ate the treasured chocoloate.
I just may discover that precious chocolate ground into my carpet, hiding in a cabinet, stuck to a counter or who knows where. The other wonderment I have is WHEN will I find it - tomorrow, next week, next month, or even next year?
Again, she could have eaten it which would be the best scenario. But then again, maybe she didn't......
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Seeing in the Dark
While eating dinner this evening, Valerie noticed that her daddy pushed away the carrots. Not thinking, he announced that "ewe, carrots are gross."
Valerie, using her sweet and charming lecture voice, said, "Daddy, if you eat your carrots, you can see in the dark!"
And we thought she wasn't listening..... Mind you, she ate the carrots on her own plate!
Valerie, using her sweet and charming lecture voice, said, "Daddy, if you eat your carrots, you can see in the dark!"
And we thought she wasn't listening..... Mind you, she ate the carrots on her own plate!
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Venice Beach
Sorry we have been MIA. We have been very busy hosting spring break guests.
Here are a few fun photos from today visiting Venice beach....
Here's Dagny just hangin' around...
Valerie caught a few waves....
Be back again soon with more fun family stories!
Here are a few fun photos from today visiting Venice beach....
Here's Dagny just hangin' around...
Valerie caught a few waves....
Be back again soon with more fun family stories!
Friday, March 11, 2005
Peas & Popsicles
Preparing dinner while speaking to my mother on the telephone this evening, I turned around to discover this on my kitchen table:
On the bright side, Valerie ate her entire dinner and received a much-deserved popsicle. Sadly, Dagny, did not eat her dinner and consequently screamed as she watched her big sister eat her reward.
So, with Dagny, we are working on the concept of if you do x, then you get y. Using tonight as an example, "if you eat your dinner, you can have a popsicle." Clearly, we have wood to chop.
As daddy arrived home later, Valerie announced her good fortune from dinner, "Daddy, I got a popsicle because I have a red tongue." So, with Valerie we are also working on the concept of cause and effect.
It appears VV & Dags each ate a fair amount of peas and corn this evening. It's always a work-in-progress, eh?
On the bright side, Valerie ate her entire dinner and received a much-deserved popsicle. Sadly, Dagny, did not eat her dinner and consequently screamed as she watched her big sister eat her reward.
So, with Dagny, we are working on the concept of if you do x, then you get y. Using tonight as an example, "if you eat your dinner, you can have a popsicle." Clearly, we have wood to chop.
As daddy arrived home later, Valerie announced her good fortune from dinner, "Daddy, I got a popsicle because I have a red tongue." So, with Valerie we are also working on the concept of cause and effect.
It appears VV & Dags each ate a fair amount of peas and corn this evening. It's always a work-in-progress, eh?
Matching to the Shirt Stains
This morning, Valerie chose to wear her yellow short-sleeve shirt with her navy and yellow sunflower skirt. While brushing her hair, I chose a yellow pony tail holder for her hair.
Valerie: No, mommy, I don't want that one. I want the green one.
Me: But green doesn't match your outfit.
Valerie: Yes it does. I have green paint spots on my shirt. The pony tail holder matches the spots.
Me: Okay, whatever works.
So, now we are matching things to the permanent stains on our clothing.....
Valerie: No, mommy, I don't want that one. I want the green one.
Me: But green doesn't match your outfit.
Valerie: Yes it does. I have green paint spots on my shirt. The pony tail holder matches the spots.
Me: Okay, whatever works.
So, now we are matching things to the permanent stains on our clothing.....
Thursday, March 10, 2005
Cover Your Mouth, PLEASE!
This morning I awoke to this:
Dagny: (coughing)
Valerie: Dagny, you woke me up! Don't COUGH on me!
Keep in mind their beds are at least eight feet apart.
Dagny: (forcing coughs)
Valerie: Dagny, cover your mouth!
Dagny: (forced more coughs & giggled)
Valerie: Dagnyyyyyyyyy, COVER YOUR MOUTH!
Dagny: (more forced coughs with more giggling)
Valerie: PLEEEEEEEAAAAAASE, COVER YOUR MOUTH! That's GROSS, Dagny!
Dagny: (apparently obliged & coughed again)
Valerie: (sigh) THANK you. Good girl.
Now, if she would just practice what she preaches.......
Dagny: (coughing)
Valerie: Dagny, you woke me up! Don't COUGH on me!
Keep in mind their beds are at least eight feet apart.
Dagny: (forcing coughs)
Valerie: Dagny, cover your mouth!
Dagny: (forced more coughs & giggled)
Valerie: Dagnyyyyyyyyy, COVER YOUR MOUTH!
Dagny: (more forced coughs with more giggling)
Valerie: PLEEEEEEEAAAAAASE, COVER YOUR MOUTH! That's GROSS, Dagny!
Dagny: (apparently obliged & coughed again)
Valerie: (sigh) THANK you. Good girl.
Now, if she would just practice what she preaches.......
Wednesday, March 9, 2005
Car Talk
Driving the girls to school this morning, the driver of the car in front of us was smoking. When he threw this cigarette butt out the window, I exclaimed, "Ewe, that is just nasty!"
Valerie: What happened mommy?
Me: Some man littered in the street. He was smoking, which is an awful habit (as I pantomime the act) and he threw the cigarette butt in the street. Smoking is bad! It will kill you, ya know that?
Valerie: It will kill me?
Me: Yes, sweety. You shouldn't smoke because it's a dirty habit and it kills people.
Valerie: Why?
Me: Because it makes your lungs dirty and starves your body cells of oxygen.
Valerie: (eyes glazing over) Oh!
Me: So, Valerie, is smoking clean or dirty?
Valerie: Dirty...
Me: Is smoking good for you or will it kill you?
Valerie: Kill you... Mommy, can I have yogurt after school?
Yup, that lesson really sunk in, I can tell.
Valerie: What happened mommy?
Me: Some man littered in the street. He was smoking, which is an awful habit (as I pantomime the act) and he threw the cigarette butt in the street. Smoking is bad! It will kill you, ya know that?
Valerie: It will kill me?
Me: Yes, sweety. You shouldn't smoke because it's a dirty habit and it kills people.
Valerie: Why?
Me: Because it makes your lungs dirty and starves your body cells of oxygen.
Valerie: (eyes glazing over) Oh!
Me: So, Valerie, is smoking clean or dirty?
Valerie: Dirty...
Me: Is smoking good for you or will it kill you?
Valerie: Kill you... Mommy, can I have yogurt after school?
Yup, that lesson really sunk in, I can tell.
Sunday, March 6, 2005
The Most Natural of States
Growing up in Iowa, I'm not sure I learned to appreciate the most basic forms of nature. In my own defense, I learned to appreciate the sweetness of corn and how recently it was picked. I learned how the right cut of meat can nearly melt in your mouth. I learned to appreciate the phonomenon of raising the world's largest sow on display at the Iowa State Fair. I learned to dress warmly in winter and somewhat lightly in summer. One thing I didn't learn was an appreciation for the most natural states of the human form: nudity.
It may be the warmth of California air or the lack of apparel worn by southern California residents. Either way, my children seem enchanted with their own bare hides. Of late, it's all I can do to keep them dressed in our own house and in the presence of the general public. Valerie doesn't help as she acts as the instigator, encouraging Dagny's compulsions to run around in the buff.
I should have been warned when as a newborn, Dagny somehow managed to rid herself of socks, despite only being able to eat, sleep, cry & defecate. As she learned to walk, the warmth of the season removed any need for socks or shoes. Even during the last few months of colder winter weather, the child prefers to sleep without socks.
Now, the daily burden of getting dressed or changing a dirty diaper has turned into a game. Does Dagny understand that her mommy and daddy are stronger and will likely overpower her each day? I guess it's the days we are running late, or times we feel too fatigued to play the game that fuels her obstinance and emboldens her tiny devilish grin.
It's come to the point, with either child that if the smallest of water falls onto a pant leg or pasta noodle tumbles down the front of a shirt, there is an immediate need to be au naturel. Either child immediately strips naked, Valerie helping Dagny with the removal of each article of clothing. It doesn't matter who has the stain, both disrobe, one in support of the other. Being in a room nearby, I understand the flow of events by the abrupt shrieks of joy and laughter as they run from room to room in complete nakedness.
A few weeks ago, when this fascination began, I recall remarking to Ken, "It's nice to see that our girls are so confident about their little bodies, because things will change when puberty hits. I don't know a single woman in American culture who is pleased with the entirety of their physical shape."
Hopefully, this recent aversion to clothing is "just a phase" my children are experiencing. I fear letting loose two female versions of George Costanza (alias Buck Naked) into society at large 16 years from now.
It may be the warmth of California air or the lack of apparel worn by southern California residents. Either way, my children seem enchanted with their own bare hides. Of late, it's all I can do to keep them dressed in our own house and in the presence of the general public. Valerie doesn't help as she acts as the instigator, encouraging Dagny's compulsions to run around in the buff.
I should have been warned when as a newborn, Dagny somehow managed to rid herself of socks, despite only being able to eat, sleep, cry & defecate. As she learned to walk, the warmth of the season removed any need for socks or shoes. Even during the last few months of colder winter weather, the child prefers to sleep without socks.
Now, the daily burden of getting dressed or changing a dirty diaper has turned into a game. Does Dagny understand that her mommy and daddy are stronger and will likely overpower her each day? I guess it's the days we are running late, or times we feel too fatigued to play the game that fuels her obstinance and emboldens her tiny devilish grin.
It's come to the point, with either child that if the smallest of water falls onto a pant leg or pasta noodle tumbles down the front of a shirt, there is an immediate need to be au naturel. Either child immediately strips naked, Valerie helping Dagny with the removal of each article of clothing. It doesn't matter who has the stain, both disrobe, one in support of the other. Being in a room nearby, I understand the flow of events by the abrupt shrieks of joy and laughter as they run from room to room in complete nakedness.
A few weeks ago, when this fascination began, I recall remarking to Ken, "It's nice to see that our girls are so confident about their little bodies, because things will change when puberty hits. I don't know a single woman in American culture who is pleased with the entirety of their physical shape."
Hopefully, this recent aversion to clothing is "just a phase" my children are experiencing. I fear letting loose two female versions of George Costanza (alias Buck Naked) into society at large 16 years from now.
Saturday, March 5, 2005
It's A Jungle At the Mall Play Area
Yesterday, Ken and I shared an adult-only date night with a movie and dinner. Our fabulous babysitter, "Nanny Kelly" stayed with the girls. So, the following story is secondhand.
Kelly offered to take the girls to the children's play area at the mall yesterday afternoon. Admittedly, I forbid myself for offering such a treat on a regular basis. Each visit, I find myself enraged with other people's poorly behaved children and end up publically rebuking irresponsible rude children's parents.
Apparently, a throng of poorly behaved children ruled the roost at the mall play area yesterday afternoon. It only takes one bad egg to ruin the whole lot. Poor Dagny, desperately trying to keep up with her older sister and enjoy the toys, was trampled several times by one particular chubby bully. This rude chubby boy was not only too tall for the play area, it there had been a limitation on width, he would have broken that rule too.
Kelly, doing exactly as I would have done, reprimanded this chubby boy to be more aware of his surroundings and respectful of others. At one point, Kelly involved the plump mother, who had neglectfully been engrossed in a nearby conversation about her previous cosmetic purchases. I would like to know her response if her child were continually trampled. Kelly went so far as to ban said chubby bully from playing in a particular area where several kids Dagny's age and size tried to play.
At one point, after observing the situation and watching her sister get trampled for the last time, Valerie quickly approached the chubby bully, arm cocked, teeth clenched, and screamed, "GET OUT OF HERE!" and swung away. A nearby, wide-eyed child observer responded, "Whoa".
You go girl! While hitting is a universal taboo from a parent's perspective in our culture, I couldn't be prouder of my eldest daughter. It's doubtful that I would have reprimanded her in this situation. First, she stood up for her sister. Coming from the eldest child, who often thinks the world revolves around her and often acts as though she would prefer to be doted upon like an only child, this was a HUGE mark of growing maturity. Second, despite her public timidity and social anxieties, she showed that she can put aside her fears during a time of need and stand up for what is right.
As I reflect on the story, I can't help but imagine Valerie's thought process, "AIN'T NO ONE GONNA MESS WITH MY LIL' SIS BUT ME, PUNK!"
While it's a jungle at the mall play area, on the bright side, it can be a tool to toughen up the most timid of children. I will still forbid myself from visiting that play area on a regular basis to save myself, my husband & my children from immense embarrassement.
In the meatime, I'm as proud as any mama hen could be!
Kelly offered to take the girls to the children's play area at the mall yesterday afternoon. Admittedly, I forbid myself for offering such a treat on a regular basis. Each visit, I find myself enraged with other people's poorly behaved children and end up publically rebuking irresponsible rude children's parents.
Apparently, a throng of poorly behaved children ruled the roost at the mall play area yesterday afternoon. It only takes one bad egg to ruin the whole lot. Poor Dagny, desperately trying to keep up with her older sister and enjoy the toys, was trampled several times by one particular chubby bully. This rude chubby boy was not only too tall for the play area, it there had been a limitation on width, he would have broken that rule too.
Kelly, doing exactly as I would have done, reprimanded this chubby boy to be more aware of his surroundings and respectful of others. At one point, Kelly involved the plump mother, who had neglectfully been engrossed in a nearby conversation about her previous cosmetic purchases. I would like to know her response if her child were continually trampled. Kelly went so far as to ban said chubby bully from playing in a particular area where several kids Dagny's age and size tried to play.
At one point, after observing the situation and watching her sister get trampled for the last time, Valerie quickly approached the chubby bully, arm cocked, teeth clenched, and screamed, "GET OUT OF HERE!" and swung away. A nearby, wide-eyed child observer responded, "Whoa".
You go girl! While hitting is a universal taboo from a parent's perspective in our culture, I couldn't be prouder of my eldest daughter. It's doubtful that I would have reprimanded her in this situation. First, she stood up for her sister. Coming from the eldest child, who often thinks the world revolves around her and often acts as though she would prefer to be doted upon like an only child, this was a HUGE mark of growing maturity. Second, despite her public timidity and social anxieties, she showed that she can put aside her fears during a time of need and stand up for what is right.
As I reflect on the story, I can't help but imagine Valerie's thought process, "AIN'T NO ONE GONNA MESS WITH MY LIL' SIS BUT ME, PUNK!"
While it's a jungle at the mall play area, on the bright side, it can be a tool to toughen up the most timid of children. I will still forbid myself from visiting that play area on a regular basis to save myself, my husband & my children from immense embarrassement.
In the meatime, I'm as proud as any mama hen could be!
Thursday, March 3, 2005
Run-Around-Daddy Game
Imagine the same scene as yesterday: In the master bathroom, I finished my shower. This kids were playing around. It seems to be a popluar play area. Maybe one day we'll move all the toys into the master bathroom - just to keep things convenient for the kids!
Anyway, Daddy decided to join the fun and play along.
Valerie announced, "Let's play Run-Around-Daddy!" VV and Dagny played this game until I finished getting myself together.
There should be no doubt in anyone's mind, that I am the biological mother of these small beings.
Anyway, Daddy decided to join the fun and play along.
Valerie announced, "Let's play Run-Around-Daddy!" VV and Dagny played this game until I finished getting myself together.
There should be no doubt in anyone's mind, that I am the biological mother of these small beings.
Wednesday, March 2, 2005
New Game: The Balance Beam
Today, I decided to provide the girls with a little downtime. Somewhere and somehow, I've been hearing people tout the importance and benefits of downtime for young children. So, I decided to oblige them & let my kids play by themselves this afternoon, structuring no activities & hoping that I would not have to intervene too often.
So, while I took a shower, VV and Dags decided to play in the bathroom. In the final stages of getting myself together, I noticed that the head cushions for the master bathroom whirlpool bathtub were lying on the floor in a line.
VV announced, "Dagny! Let's play Balance Beam!"
Dagny appeared interested and ready to learn how it works.
VV states: "Okay you watch and I'll walk across the bathtub cushions and hold out my arms. See, I can do it without falling off!"
Quick, quick.... check the patents! Call Hasbro! That's a keeper....
Okay... I will admit. She comes from a stunted genetic pool. I distinctly recall my brother, sister and myself playing the classic Run-Around-The-Blanket game, a fine choice for downtime! At least it tuckered us out pretty quickly.
So, while I took a shower, VV and Dags decided to play in the bathroom. In the final stages of getting myself together, I noticed that the head cushions for the master bathroom whirlpool bathtub were lying on the floor in a line.
VV announced, "Dagny! Let's play Balance Beam!"
Dagny appeared interested and ready to learn how it works.
VV states: "Okay you watch and I'll walk across the bathtub cushions and hold out my arms. See, I can do it without falling off!"
Quick, quick.... check the patents! Call Hasbro! That's a keeper....
Okay... I will admit. She comes from a stunted genetic pool. I distinctly recall my brother, sister and myself playing the classic Run-Around-The-Blanket game, a fine choice for downtime! At least it tuckered us out pretty quickly.
Monsters.... live HERE?
This morning, getting ready for school, Valerie and I shared the following conversation:
Me: Valerie, go upstairs and find some socks, so we can get to school on-time.
Valerie: (Smiling) Okay, mommy (and she ran away)
I heard a drawer slam and footsteps running through the hallway.
Valerie: (exasperated) Mommy, did you know there are MONSTERS upstairs?
Me: Really! Are you sure?
Valerie: (with big eyes) Yes, I'm sure. There are MONSTERS up there!
Me: Are they friendly monsters?
Valerie: (pensively) I don't know..... but I think they're MEAN!
Me: Well, they MUST be friendly monsters because we don't ALLOW the mean ones into the house.
Valerie: I think they're MEAN MONSTERS....
Me: No, Daddy is a tough guy right?
Valerie: Yeah....
Me: Daddy doesn't LET the mean monsters into the house. Daddy is tougher than any monster in the universe. So, it's definitely the nice monsters upstairs. I'm betting that OUR monsters are friends with Elmo and Cookie Monster. What do you think?
VV had moved onto the next task at hand....
Me: Valerie, go upstairs and find some socks, so we can get to school on-time.
Valerie: (Smiling) Okay, mommy (and she ran away)
I heard a drawer slam and footsteps running through the hallway.
Valerie: (exasperated) Mommy, did you know there are MONSTERS upstairs?
Me: Really! Are you sure?
Valerie: (with big eyes) Yes, I'm sure. There are MONSTERS up there!
Me: Are they friendly monsters?
Valerie: (pensively) I don't know..... but I think they're MEAN!
Me: Well, they MUST be friendly monsters because we don't ALLOW the mean ones into the house.
Valerie: I think they're MEAN MONSTERS....
Me: No, Daddy is a tough guy right?
Valerie: Yeah....
Me: Daddy doesn't LET the mean monsters into the house. Daddy is tougher than any monster in the universe. So, it's definitely the nice monsters upstairs. I'm betting that OUR monsters are friends with Elmo and Cookie Monster. What do you think?
VV had moved onto the next task at hand....
Tuesday, March 1, 2005
Best Blog I've Read Today
If this doesn't beat all.....
I wish I had read this about 4 years ago when other "mommies" started telling me what to do!
Things I Am Learning From The "Mother Drive-By" Thread
"Are you breastfeeding?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Oh, just wondering."
"We only share our parenting decisions with family, but thank you for your concern."
"Do you work?"
"Not outside the home, no."
"I could never do that, I'd go crazy sitting around the house all day."
"Then working outside the home sounds like the right choice for you. I think it's wonderful when families create arrangements that fit their specific needs."
"I don't know how you can put that baby in day care. Why did you even have a child if you weren't going to raise her yourself?"
"We needed someone who could fetch the TV remote when we were too drunk to get off the couch and find it."
"I can't believe you're still nursing! When are you going to wean?"
"Wean? What are you talking about? What is this word you say - 'wean'?"
"I can't understand women who don't co-sleep. It's so unnatural! They must not have any maternal instinct."
"That is so true! And women who belittle other mothers, they must not have any social skills."
"Should you really be eating that when you're pregnant?"
[starting to cry] "PREGNANT? I'm not pregnant! What are you saying??"
"Why don't you put a coat on that baby?"
"Why don't you put a cork in that shriek hole?"
"I can't believe you let your baby cry! That's child abuse!"
"See, that's why God wants you by His right knee in heaven, to help Him figure out how to smite bad mothers like me."
"He's not sleeping through the night yet?"
"Only when we put cough syrup in his bottle."
"Why are you using that stroller? Why don't you use a sling? What's wrong with you?"
"WHY YOU LOOKIN' AT ME LIKE YOU KNOW ME? WHY YOU LOOKIN' AT ME LIKE THAT, PLAYA? YOU WANNA PIECE OF ME? YOU WANNA THROW DOWN?"
I can't wait!
Thank you ChezMiscarriage!
I wish I had read this about 4 years ago when other "mommies" started telling me what to do!
Things I Am Learning From The "Mother Drive-By" Thread
"Are you breastfeeding?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Oh, just wondering."
"We only share our parenting decisions with family, but thank you for your concern."
"Do you work?"
"Not outside the home, no."
"I could never do that, I'd go crazy sitting around the house all day."
"Then working outside the home sounds like the right choice for you. I think it's wonderful when families create arrangements that fit their specific needs."
"I don't know how you can put that baby in day care. Why did you even have a child if you weren't going to raise her yourself?"
"We needed someone who could fetch the TV remote when we were too drunk to get off the couch and find it."
"I can't believe you're still nursing! When are you going to wean?"
"Wean? What are you talking about? What is this word you say - 'wean'?"
"I can't understand women who don't co-sleep. It's so unnatural! They must not have any maternal instinct."
"That is so true! And women who belittle other mothers, they must not have any social skills."
"Should you really be eating that when you're pregnant?"
[starting to cry] "PREGNANT? I'm not pregnant! What are you saying??"
"Why don't you put a coat on that baby?"
"Why don't you put a cork in that shriek hole?"
"I can't believe you let your baby cry! That's child abuse!"
"See, that's why God wants you by His right knee in heaven, to help Him figure out how to smite bad mothers like me."
"He's not sleeping through the night yet?"
"Only when we put cough syrup in his bottle."
"Why are you using that stroller? Why don't you use a sling? What's wrong with you?"
"WHY YOU LOOKIN' AT ME LIKE YOU KNOW ME? WHY YOU LOOKIN' AT ME LIKE THAT, PLAYA? YOU WANNA PIECE OF ME? YOU WANNA THROW DOWN?"
I can't wait!
Thank you ChezMiscarriage!
Breakfast of Champions
When it comes to breakfast, I happen to agree with the experts that it is the most important meal of the day. Personally, I can't survive without breakfast. Perhaps it's how I was trained growing up, perhaps it's my chemical composition. Either way, I have to eat breakfast every single morning. My whole life, I have been able to miss any other meal or snack during the day, but if I miss breakfast, I'm totally messed up for the entire day and maybe the next, too. Plenty of people in the world do not eat breakfast and survive (often with a few extra pounds around their waistline), but I am not one of them.
To put it lightly, getting VV to eat anything, let alone eating breakfast, has been a challenge. Being nearly four years old, of course she has been exposed to plenty of "junk" food. There is no doubt she would eat chips, popcicles, cookies or candy until someone intervened. Put a sandwich or bowl of vegetables in front of that kid, even if she had been starving for a month, she wouldn't touch the stuff.
I make breakfast for the kids nearly every morning. I'll cook or provide anything they request, time permitting, just to encourage the first meal of the day. Without breakfast, the experts conclude that it is tougher for children to concentrate and to learn at school. Lately, the popular breakfast of choice has been Pop-Tarts. One day, VV exclaimed, "Mommy, Pop-Tarts are good for me because they have lots of protein." Yeah, 2 grams! I'll be sure to include that information in my letter to Kellogg's. So, I responded, "I don't think so honey, but I'm glad to see you're eating breakfast." Why press the issue? Pop-Tarts may not be the most nutritious breakfast, but at least they help to develop a habit of eating breakfast. I admit that I will probably regret the availability of Pop-Tarts in my house in about 20 years.
Beyond acting as a breakfast short-order cook (the only meal for which I'm willing to do this) I also provide incentives for completing the task. I've been known to offer coins or stickers as a reward for a reasonably consumed breakfast. Yesterday, VV ate one Pop-Tart and a small bowl of Life Cereal in addition to her usual milk, Flintstone vitamins and apple juice. As a reward, VV chose two stickers, one for herself & one for her little sister who doesn't need incentives for breakfast consumption. This was the best breakfast she's eaten in months, if not years, if not EVER.
Cut to this morning.... VV opted for Pop-Tarts again, vitamins, milk, apple juice & Frosted Flakes Frosted Flakes. To be generous, she probably ate four bites of her Pop-Tart, finished her juice, milk and vitamins, and stared at the Frosted Flakes. As I ate my own breakfast, Valerie asked for her reward.
Valerie: Mommy, I want my sticker now.
Me: Well, I can't give you a sticker unless you finish your breakfast
Valerie: I ate my breakfast yesterday! (stated emphatically)
Me: That was yesterday. At night you hit the reset button and each morning you start over.
Valerie: (Defeated) Sigh... okay..... Then, I'm finished.
If I didn't have my wits about me, I just may have fallen for the fact that she ate her breakfast yesterday. She has this air about her that keeps people giving her what she wants. She can be perfectly charming and turn on you in a second when she doesn't get her way.
My own mother has been known to recite the following nursery rhyme by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in my honor,
There was a little girl who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead
And when she was good she was very very good
And when she was bad she was horrid
I'd say the same applies to my darling eldest daughter!
To put it lightly, getting VV to eat anything, let alone eating breakfast, has been a challenge. Being nearly four years old, of course she has been exposed to plenty of "junk" food. There is no doubt she would eat chips, popcicles, cookies or candy until someone intervened. Put a sandwich or bowl of vegetables in front of that kid, even if she had been starving for a month, she wouldn't touch the stuff.
I make breakfast for the kids nearly every morning. I'll cook or provide anything they request, time permitting, just to encourage the first meal of the day. Without breakfast, the experts conclude that it is tougher for children to concentrate and to learn at school. Lately, the popular breakfast of choice has been Pop-Tarts. One day, VV exclaimed, "Mommy, Pop-Tarts are good for me because they have lots of protein." Yeah, 2 grams! I'll be sure to include that information in my letter to Kellogg's. So, I responded, "I don't think so honey, but I'm glad to see you're eating breakfast." Why press the issue? Pop-Tarts may not be the most nutritious breakfast, but at least they help to develop a habit of eating breakfast. I admit that I will probably regret the availability of Pop-Tarts in my house in about 20 years.
Beyond acting as a breakfast short-order cook (the only meal for which I'm willing to do this) I also provide incentives for completing the task. I've been known to offer coins or stickers as a reward for a reasonably consumed breakfast. Yesterday, VV ate one Pop-Tart and a small bowl of Life Cereal in addition to her usual milk, Flintstone vitamins and apple juice. As a reward, VV chose two stickers, one for herself & one for her little sister who doesn't need incentives for breakfast consumption. This was the best breakfast she's eaten in months, if not years, if not EVER.
Cut to this morning.... VV opted for Pop-Tarts again, vitamins, milk, apple juice & Frosted Flakes Frosted Flakes. To be generous, she probably ate four bites of her Pop-Tart, finished her juice, milk and vitamins, and stared at the Frosted Flakes. As I ate my own breakfast, Valerie asked for her reward.
Valerie: Mommy, I want my sticker now.
Me: Well, I can't give you a sticker unless you finish your breakfast
Valerie: I ate my breakfast yesterday! (stated emphatically)
Me: That was yesterday. At night you hit the reset button and each morning you start over.
Valerie: (Defeated) Sigh... okay..... Then, I'm finished.
If I didn't have my wits about me, I just may have fallen for the fact that she ate her breakfast yesterday. She has this air about her that keeps people giving her what she wants. She can be perfectly charming and turn on you in a second when she doesn't get her way.
My own mother has been known to recite the following nursery rhyme by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in my honor,
There was a little girl who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead
And when she was good she was very very good
And when she was bad she was horrid
I'd say the same applies to my darling eldest daughter!
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