We have suffered through a deluge of rain here for the past several weeks and both the boys and I have really begun to suffer from cabin fever. On Monday afternoon, there was a nice treat of some break-through sunshine and I asked M if he wanted to go for a bike ride around the neighborhood. He politely declined, insisting on venturing out into the backyard. The soggy, muddy, backyard. In 40 degree weather. Being the responsible mother that I am, I dressed the boys in sweats and rain boots and let them have at it.
Cut to ten minutes later and both boys had taken off their rain boots and were prancing around the grass, and the mud, in their socks. Again, being responsible, I allowed this to continue with a sigh. What could some really cold weather with soaking wet feet hurt?
A few minutes later, (I was obviously paying really close attention to their antics) I noticed B stuffing mud into his mouth. Why this boy loves to eat dirt, I cannot figure out. He eats sand at the beach, at the playground and now mud in the backyard. It's gross. He always spits it out and yet he tries it again almost every time. It can't taste good, so why in the world would he persist? One would think he would have given up by now. Anyway, I ran over and wiped his mouth out and scolded him (yeah, right) and moved him away from the muddy part of the dirt.
I went back to patio and was contemplating how much longer I was going to let them play in the frigid weather when I looked over in time to see B plopping himself down into the rain and dirt filled kiddie pool. He was submerged to his armpits. I would once again like to note that it was approximately 40 degrees Fahrenheit outside. ( I know you are completely amazed by my stellar parenting skills.) Of course, I freaked out and started running towards the pool. M apparently decided that B had had a good idea and started to march towards the pool as well. I yelled, "M! Stop it! DO NOT GET INTO THE WATER!" Unfortunately, M is almost three and has absolutely no impulse control and an apparently great ability to tune me out, so he did what any boy of his age would. He plopped himself down next to B and laughed hysterically. I'm guessing that my screaming only made things funnier for him.
At this point I figured the best course of action was to get the boys out of the pool and dried off as soon as possible. Can one get hypothermia at above freezing temperatures? I really didn't want to run an experiment using my kids as the guinea pigs. I stripped them, rushed them inside, and watched in horror as they began to run around the house naked. I actually had to hold them down to diaper and clothe them. Well, at least they got to spend some time outside...
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
He Wipes Noses Too
The other day, I was...indisposed, while the boys were in the kitchen munching away at their breakfast. B has had a nasty cold with all the snottiness in which this entails. Yum, yum, yum. While I was...busy, I hear B sneeze, which invariably meant that there was some sliminess finding its way down his face. However, as previously mentioned, I was unable to attend to this particular problem in a timely manner. As I wrapped up my business, I heard M call out, "Mommy, B sneezed. Oooooooooh gross, B! Baby, you have buggaws?" Then I heard nothing.
Moments later I walked into the kitchen in time to see M, who had climbed onto B's highchair, was wielding a wet-wipe and wiping B's nose. I stopped in my tracks. Awesome. I have birthed my very own nose-wiper. I wonder if he changes poopy diapers, too.
Moments later I walked into the kitchen in time to see M, who had climbed onto B's highchair, was wielding a wet-wipe and wiping B's nose. I stopped in my tracks. Awesome. I have birthed my very own nose-wiper. I wonder if he changes poopy diapers, too.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Outsmarted
I sat the boys down to their lunch today and went to go sit on the couch. After a few minutes, B raised his yogurt cup and said, "Mo." which these days means either "more" or "done". Since the cup was still full of yogurt, I made the assumption that he was attempting to let me know that he was done with his yogurt and wished for me to remove said cup from his tray. So, I stood up and started walking towards B and asked if he was done. He smiled, I swear it was slyly, shook his head to indicate "no" and continued feeding himself. I sighed and sat back down only to have the same thing happen again only but a moment later. Only this time, B's sly smile was HUGE.
I sat down, yet again, and I think you all know where this is going. Now, I might be slow on the up-take, so to speak, but I'm not a complete idiot, at least not usually. Whilst still sitting on my a*&, I asked B again if he was finished with his yogurt. Of course, this time he nodded his assent.
Is it possible that I have been outsmarted by an almost 15 month old?
I sat down, yet again, and I think you all know where this is going. Now, I might be slow on the up-take, so to speak, but I'm not a complete idiot, at least not usually. Whilst still sitting on my a*&, I asked B again if he was finished with his yogurt. Of course, this time he nodded his assent.
Is it possible that I have been outsmarted by an almost 15 month old?
Thursday, January 24, 2008
The Bond of Brotherhood
In my world, anything that happens before 9am is a bit of a fog and it can be argued, by me of course, that nothing actually happens until after this time. Normally, the boys wake up sometime between 7 and 7:30 in the morning and if I'm lucky, more like 8. This is still WAY too early for some of us, but at least almost manageable. This past week, the munchkins have been rousing themselves around 6:30 to 6:45 am and this has been completely unacceptable. Papa Bear claims that he hasn't been making too much noise and that they are waking before he, but the powers that be, namely me, have a hunch that he is dispersing less than the truth, but what am I to do.
This morning, I woke up and noticed that it was 7:30 and was thrilled to have awoken on my own...not by some awful crying, screaming sound. What a treat! I took my earplugs out thinking to hear the kids the minute they stirred rather than waiting for one of them to start crying to get my attention...yes, it's a bit neglectful to wear earplugs, but I do need to be able to sleep with Papa Bear somehow. Anyway, as I pulled out the plugs I noticed something. A faint noise. Was that a giggle? Were those little voices? I lied in bed a minute to orient my ears to the sounds and realized, with delight and more than a little surprise, that the boys were whispering quietly and entertaining each other. HOLY MOLY!!!!
I probably should have stayed in bed enjoying this serendipitous treat but, alas, I am just too curious...nosy, whatever you want to call it. I slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the hall to check out what was going on, without disrupting the munchkins' repartee. I peeked my head in the door to see M, with ALL of his blankets, sitting in B's crib and the two of them were chatting away. M was asking B questions like, "Do you see that B? Is that funny? Do you want your blankey, baby?" To which B would just babble or giggle. It was so sweet and cute and I just wanted to preserve the moment forever. Unfortunately, all good things seem to come a quick and sudden end in this house. The boys noticed me and starting making all kinds of ruckus. "Mommy. Hi Mommy. Are you awake? Pick me up. I'm hungry. I want lunch." (We haven't quite gotten the different meals correctly identified as of yet.) "Mama mama mama mama." Of course, there was also the squealing, the jumping up and down and the loud, loud, loud demands.
The moment was over, but the sweet memory will remain.
This morning, I woke up and noticed that it was 7:30 and was thrilled to have awoken on my own...not by some awful crying, screaming sound. What a treat! I took my earplugs out thinking to hear the kids the minute they stirred rather than waiting for one of them to start crying to get my attention...yes, it's a bit neglectful to wear earplugs, but I do need to be able to sleep with Papa Bear somehow. Anyway, as I pulled out the plugs I noticed something. A faint noise. Was that a giggle? Were those little voices? I lied in bed a minute to orient my ears to the sounds and realized, with delight and more than a little surprise, that the boys were whispering quietly and entertaining each other. HOLY MOLY!!!!
I probably should have stayed in bed enjoying this serendipitous treat but, alas, I am just too curious...nosy, whatever you want to call it. I slipped out of bed and tiptoed across the hall to check out what was going on, without disrupting the munchkins' repartee. I peeked my head in the door to see M, with ALL of his blankets, sitting in B's crib and the two of them were chatting away. M was asking B questions like, "Do you see that B? Is that funny? Do you want your blankey, baby?" To which B would just babble or giggle. It was so sweet and cute and I just wanted to preserve the moment forever. Unfortunately, all good things seem to come a quick and sudden end in this house. The boys noticed me and starting making all kinds of ruckus. "Mommy. Hi Mommy. Are you awake? Pick me up. I'm hungry. I want lunch." (We haven't quite gotten the different meals correctly identified as of yet.) "Mama mama mama mama." Of course, there was also the squealing, the jumping up and down and the loud, loud, loud demands.
The moment was over, but the sweet memory will remain.
Uh, It's Closed
Last Saturday, Papa Bear and I realized that it was the last day of our Oakland Zoo membership and that we should take advantage of this. As mentioned in many previous posts, the zoo is M's number one favorite place. Given a choice between the zoo and keeping his little brother, I fear that I know which he would choose...we would most likely be a one child family.
Papa Bear and I packed their snacks, lunches, change of clothes, diapers, sippy cups...their entire bedroom, etc. and bundled the kids into the car. We told M that we were going to the zoo and, of course, he was thrilled. During the drive over, we were treated to a monologue detailing all the animals that we were going to see and what some of them eat. It was a...fun car ride.
Before even getting into the zoo, one has to either pay a $6 parking fee or show one's membership card to bypass this fee. Papa Bear handed me his membership card so that I could hand it to the parking attendant. She looked at the card and told me that the membership had expired the previous day and that we needed to pay the parking fee.
Papa Bear and I looked at each other in shock. How had we managed to misread the date? Seriously, how clueless are we? Are we living in a closet with no calendar, television, internet, or any access to the outside world? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...I was paralyzed because I felt so guilty. I snapped out of my daze and turned to P.B. for the money. He in turn asked the woman if we could turn around.
I looked at P.B. in amazement. Did he actually want to leave? Could he actually break his little boy's heart this way? I turned to him to ask him these very things. Before I could open my mouth, he said, "We're not paying for this. Let's go."
"M is going to be devastated," I said as I began to turn the car around.
As if on cue, M cried desperately, "Where you going? No turn round!!! Zoo is that way, Mommy!" He violently threw his arms in the opposite direction, as if I didn't know where the zoo was.
I again looked at P.B., about to plead M's case for him and was given the look. Anyone in a long term relationship knows that look. The one that says, "Don't even try it. Do you really want to piss me off when you'll lose the argument anyway?" So, I turned to M and, in my most sincere voice said, "I'm sorry baby, the zoo is closed today. They're not letting anyone in." As the lie spilled out, I wondered if there's a special kind of hell for parents who lie to their kids because it's simply the easiest thing to do. How could I explain to a not-yet-three year old that we had accidentally mistaken dates? That we were not going to pay to get inside the zoo? So, I found myself taking the easier route. The route that involved sadness for the child, but made the parent seem less at fault. The route that would help to alleviate some of the parent's guilt. I lied and prayed that my sweet little boy would understand.
Of course, M did not understand. He started crying and telling us how he really wanted to go to the zoo. I felt absolutely awful because I knew what a disappointment this was for M, so I did what any good, caring, responsible mother would do. I bribed him with sugar. "M, I'm sorry you're so sad about the zoo being closed. We can't go today, but Mommy will get you a lollipop. How does that sound? Do you want a lollipop?"
Please. Like he would say no to a lollipop. M said, "Yes, Mommy. I want lollipop. Let's go get lollipop." Papa Bear couldn't really object because, even to him this seemed like a small concession and it's not like we ever give the boys candy. So I pulled the car over at the first Rite Aid that I saw and went inside to get my devastated eldest child a sugar laden, teeth rotting, hyper making, bribe. Inside, I perused the variety of lollies and found the perfect one...a blue Care Bear. It would serve two purposes. First, and definitely most importantly, the lolly was to help M feel better and hopefully stop the tears. Second, and I want to emphasize that this was not at all that important, Papa Bear hates that I allow M to watch the Care Bears and thinks I'm trying to make him a girl. So this was partly to take a jab at the mean P.B. who wouldn't let M go to the zoo...not that I am bothered by his cheapness at all. Seriously, not at all.
I gave M his lollipop and he was so excited. We then spent the morning looking at ovens and stove tops. That's equally as fun for young children. Seriously.
Papa Bear and I packed their snacks, lunches, change of clothes, diapers, sippy cups...their entire bedroom, etc. and bundled the kids into the car. We told M that we were going to the zoo and, of course, he was thrilled. During the drive over, we were treated to a monologue detailing all the animals that we were going to see and what some of them eat. It was a...fun car ride.
Before even getting into the zoo, one has to either pay a $6 parking fee or show one's membership card to bypass this fee. Papa Bear handed me his membership card so that I could hand it to the parking attendant. She looked at the card and told me that the membership had expired the previous day and that we needed to pay the parking fee.
Papa Bear and I looked at each other in shock. How had we managed to misread the date? Seriously, how clueless are we? Are we living in a closet with no calendar, television, internet, or any access to the outside world? Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid...I was paralyzed because I felt so guilty. I snapped out of my daze and turned to P.B. for the money. He in turn asked the woman if we could turn around.
I looked at P.B. in amazement. Did he actually want to leave? Could he actually break his little boy's heart this way? I turned to him to ask him these very things. Before I could open my mouth, he said, "We're not paying for this. Let's go."
"M is going to be devastated," I said as I began to turn the car around.
As if on cue, M cried desperately, "Where you going? No turn round!!! Zoo is that way, Mommy!" He violently threw his arms in the opposite direction, as if I didn't know where the zoo was.
I again looked at P.B., about to plead M's case for him and was given the look. Anyone in a long term relationship knows that look. The one that says, "Don't even try it. Do you really want to piss me off when you'll lose the argument anyway?" So, I turned to M and, in my most sincere voice said, "I'm sorry baby, the zoo is closed today. They're not letting anyone in." As the lie spilled out, I wondered if there's a special kind of hell for parents who lie to their kids because it's simply the easiest thing to do. How could I explain to a not-yet-three year old that we had accidentally mistaken dates? That we were not going to pay to get inside the zoo? So, I found myself taking the easier route. The route that involved sadness for the child, but made the parent seem less at fault. The route that would help to alleviate some of the parent's guilt. I lied and prayed that my sweet little boy would understand.
Of course, M did not understand. He started crying and telling us how he really wanted to go to the zoo. I felt absolutely awful because I knew what a disappointment this was for M, so I did what any good, caring, responsible mother would do. I bribed him with sugar. "M, I'm sorry you're so sad about the zoo being closed. We can't go today, but Mommy will get you a lollipop. How does that sound? Do you want a lollipop?"
Please. Like he would say no to a lollipop. M said, "Yes, Mommy. I want lollipop. Let's go get lollipop." Papa Bear couldn't really object because, even to him this seemed like a small concession and it's not like we ever give the boys candy. So I pulled the car over at the first Rite Aid that I saw and went inside to get my devastated eldest child a sugar laden, teeth rotting, hyper making, bribe. Inside, I perused the variety of lollies and found the perfect one...a blue Care Bear. It would serve two purposes. First, and definitely most importantly, the lolly was to help M feel better and hopefully stop the tears. Second, and I want to emphasize that this was not at all that important, Papa Bear hates that I allow M to watch the Care Bears and thinks I'm trying to make him a girl. So this was partly to take a jab at the mean P.B. who wouldn't let M go to the zoo...not that I am bothered by his cheapness at all. Seriously, not at all.
I gave M his lollipop and he was so excited. We then spent the morning looking at ovens and stove tops. That's equally as fun for young children. Seriously.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
The Mexican Standoff
In our house, time-outs are not generally handed out willy-nilly. They are generally used to help M calm down from a temper tantrum where we will both sit down on the couch and I will hug him until he can function sensibly again. M will then turn to me and say, "All done crying, Mommy", he'll give me a big hug and just like that time-out is over. Unfortunately, there is occasionally the instance where time-outs are doled out for behavioral indiscretions, but I generally try as hard as possible to avoid this because those time-outs are tough on both of us...we're both usually pretty angry by that point.
Yesterday, I was talking with my friend Teri who told me that her not-yet-2.5-year-old had been put in time-out about three times. It got me to thinking about time-outs and the lack of them around here as of late. It's not that M has been particularly well behaved...cuz, unfortunately that's not necessarily the case. He is after all almost three years old. I guess it's that his temper tantrums have been increasingly fewer and farther between. He'll complain and cry and get upset, but he is less likely to lose control of himself to the point of a full on tantrum. I guess this is a sign of his growing up and development...or my excellent parenting:)
Well, this morning as M began to throw his toys on the floor, I warned him that this was not acceptable behavior. He smiled, and it was a smile that can only be described as smug, and threw some more toys on the floor. I warned him not to do it again and added in that if he did, he would be given a time-out. As I said this, I realized that I would have to follow through on this because I had not been doing so lately. Sometimes it's just easier to leave things be because well, I must be lazy. But I digress. So, the little bugger, with a gleam in his eye, throws another toy on the ground.
With a sigh of resignation, because I really do not enjoy the punishment part of parenting, I tell M, "That's it Buddy. You didn't listen to Mommy, so it's time to go sit in time-out." I guess he didn't think I'd follow through because he starts screaming NOOOOOOOOO, as I pick him up and place him on the couch with his blankey.
I gave him a minute to calm down and then asked him if he was ready to apologize for throwing his toys on the ground. He says no. This continues for fifteen minutes. I was really starting to panic at this point. What should I do? He was only supposed to be in time-out for a minute or two, but he's so stubborn and just won't give in. Seriously, what kind of child would actually choose to sit alone on the couch for fifteen minutes when he could get up and play if he just apologizes.
I called Safta to let her know what was going on. She told me that he's obviously not going to give in and has probably forgotten what he was put in time-out for in the first place so I need to end this. As we are discussing how to do this, and it has been about twenty minutes now, M scampers over and put his blankey over his face and then hands it to me. He was FINALLY waving a white flag. I told him that it was not okay to throw toys and that I love him. We hugged and he ran off to play with B. So easy...and yet so very, very, hard.
If he won't apologize at the wee age of not-yet-three, what in the world do we have to look forward to in the years to come. Heaven help me, but I think this apple might be worse than the tree from which he fell...
Yesterday, I was talking with my friend Teri who told me that her not-yet-2.5-year-old had been put in time-out about three times. It got me to thinking about time-outs and the lack of them around here as of late. It's not that M has been particularly well behaved...cuz, unfortunately that's not necessarily the case. He is after all almost three years old. I guess it's that his temper tantrums have been increasingly fewer and farther between. He'll complain and cry and get upset, but he is less likely to lose control of himself to the point of a full on tantrum. I guess this is a sign of his growing up and development...or my excellent parenting:)
Well, this morning as M began to throw his toys on the floor, I warned him that this was not acceptable behavior. He smiled, and it was a smile that can only be described as smug, and threw some more toys on the floor. I warned him not to do it again and added in that if he did, he would be given a time-out. As I said this, I realized that I would have to follow through on this because I had not been doing so lately. Sometimes it's just easier to leave things be because well, I must be lazy. But I digress. So, the little bugger, with a gleam in his eye, throws another toy on the ground.
With a sigh of resignation, because I really do not enjoy the punishment part of parenting, I tell M, "That's it Buddy. You didn't listen to Mommy, so it's time to go sit in time-out." I guess he didn't think I'd follow through because he starts screaming NOOOOOOOOO, as I pick him up and place him on the couch with his blankey.
I gave him a minute to calm down and then asked him if he was ready to apologize for throwing his toys on the ground. He says no. This continues for fifteen minutes. I was really starting to panic at this point. What should I do? He was only supposed to be in time-out for a minute or two, but he's so stubborn and just won't give in. Seriously, what kind of child would actually choose to sit alone on the couch for fifteen minutes when he could get up and play if he just apologizes.
I called Safta to let her know what was going on. She told me that he's obviously not going to give in and has probably forgotten what he was put in time-out for in the first place so I need to end this. As we are discussing how to do this, and it has been about twenty minutes now, M scampers over and put his blankey over his face and then hands it to me. He was FINALLY waving a white flag. I told him that it was not okay to throw toys and that I love him. We hugged and he ran off to play with B. So easy...and yet so very, very, hard.
If he won't apologize at the wee age of not-yet-three, what in the world do we have to look forward to in the years to come. Heaven help me, but I think this apple might be worse than the tree from which he fell...
Monday, January 14, 2008
The LOOOOONG Ride
Sunday was one of those days that people only dream of in the middle of January. A day with sunshine and the kind of warmth that still has a snap to it, but enough heat to make one consider the wisdom of wearing a sweater. Papa Bear and I decided it was too splendid of a day to pass up the opportunity to take the boys out for a day in the sun. We agreed upon Cesar Chavez Park in Berkeley and packed some lunch, spare clothes and M's trike in the trunk.
On the freeway, we changed our mind and, it's better for all involved that I don't bore you with the long story of the wasted hour in the car, so we ended up turning around and stopping at the Iron Horse Trail. We took out M's trike and the stroller for B and then set off on our way. M had a great time racing with Papa Bear, bumping into my shoes, stopping to look at the passers-by (including dogs), trying to bike down the little side hills, getting off of his trike to lie on the ground, getting off of his trike to push it...you get the picture. Two hours later we finally made it back to the car.
I kid you not when I tell you that this walk should have taken absolutely no longer than half an hour. Two hours. I was there, living it, and I still can't believe it. It's not that I wouldn't have enjoyed a "normal" two hour walk...you know, one where we actually went somewhere...but, two hours for a few blocks is just ridiculous. Biking/Triking/Walking with an almost three year old has taken on a whole new meaning to our family.
All the same, the boys had a nice time, got tired out and we all got to enjoy an unexpected day of nice, warm sunlight in the middle of January.
On the freeway, we changed our mind and, it's better for all involved that I don't bore you with the long story of the wasted hour in the car, so we ended up turning around and stopping at the Iron Horse Trail. We took out M's trike and the stroller for B and then set off on our way. M had a great time racing with Papa Bear, bumping into my shoes, stopping to look at the passers-by (including dogs), trying to bike down the little side hills, getting off of his trike to lie on the ground, getting off of his trike to push it...you get the picture. Two hours later we finally made it back to the car.
I kid you not when I tell you that this walk should have taken absolutely no longer than half an hour. Two hours. I was there, living it, and I still can't believe it. It's not that I wouldn't have enjoyed a "normal" two hour walk...you know, one where we actually went somewhere...but, two hours for a few blocks is just ridiculous. Biking/Triking/Walking with an almost three year old has taken on a whole new meaning to our family.
All the same, the boys had a nice time, got tired out and we all got to enjoy an unexpected day of nice, warm sunlight in the middle of January.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Oakland Zoo
On Saturday Papa Bear, Ama and I took the boys to the Oakland zoo, for approximately the 100th time this year. As you know, M is obsessed with animals and loooooooves the zoo more than almost anything so he was just as excited to go as if it were his first time.
Upon arriving, M insisted that he carry his Sesame Street "Who's at the Zoo" book with him and wouldn't put it down. As we walked through the zoo, M directed us to which animals he wanted to see and then turned to that animal's page in his book. It was so cute. Here was this three foot tall kid in a hoodie and jeans clasping a book that was way too big for him and marching through the zoo. (I forgot the camera on that day and I'm so bummed.) At one point he turned to the picture of the giraffe and said to me, "Let's go to giraffe. I have to show him picture." How cute is that?!?
Another favorite activity for M at the zoo is riding the train. After we had finished checking out the animals that we were ordered to by our boss, we told him that we could ride the train today. In order to thwart his usual toddler-like dawdling, I told him that we had to hurry or we would miss the train...he doesn't need to know that it runs like every fifteen or twenty minutes. M literally ran all the way up the hill and almost out of the zoo without me, he was that worried that he wouldn't get to ride on the train. He rode the train with Ama and had a blast.
M then insisted that he ride on the cars that ride in a circle. I told him we had to leave and he became very distressed. I took pity on him and told him that I didn't have any money so he needed to ask his father. To this M replied, "I get token from Ba-Ba, now." M took off towards to Papa Bear and conned him into a ride. M had so much fun riding his car, which this time was actually a motorcycle. He actually smiled and laughed which was nice to see, because he is usually so serious about his rides.
P.B. then decided that both boys should go on the Merry-go-Round. M insisted on being placed on the elephant, of course. P.B. placed B on the giraffe and then decided that he would be better off sitting on a bench seat instead. B had other ideas and started screaming until P.B. again placed him on the giraffe. Ama stood in between both boys who had a great time. In fact, B cried at the end when he was removed from the ride.
Ah, the zoo. So much fun for the kids, so tiring for their parents.
Upon arriving, M insisted that he carry his Sesame Street "Who's at the Zoo" book with him and wouldn't put it down. As we walked through the zoo, M directed us to which animals he wanted to see and then turned to that animal's page in his book. It was so cute. Here was this three foot tall kid in a hoodie and jeans clasping a book that was way too big for him and marching through the zoo. (I forgot the camera on that day and I'm so bummed.) At one point he turned to the picture of the giraffe and said to me, "Let's go to giraffe. I have to show him picture." How cute is that?!?
Another favorite activity for M at the zoo is riding the train. After we had finished checking out the animals that we were ordered to by our boss, we told him that we could ride the train today. In order to thwart his usual toddler-like dawdling, I told him that we had to hurry or we would miss the train...he doesn't need to know that it runs like every fifteen or twenty minutes. M literally ran all the way up the hill and almost out of the zoo without me, he was that worried that he wouldn't get to ride on the train. He rode the train with Ama and had a blast.
M then insisted that he ride on the cars that ride in a circle. I told him we had to leave and he became very distressed. I took pity on him and told him that I didn't have any money so he needed to ask his father. To this M replied, "I get token from Ba-Ba, now." M took off towards to Papa Bear and conned him into a ride. M had so much fun riding his car, which this time was actually a motorcycle. He actually smiled and laughed which was nice to see, because he is usually so serious about his rides.
P.B. then decided that both boys should go on the Merry-go-Round. M insisted on being placed on the elephant, of course. P.B. placed B on the giraffe and then decided that he would be better off sitting on a bench seat instead. B had other ideas and started screaming until P.B. again placed him on the giraffe. Ama stood in between both boys who had a great time. In fact, B cried at the end when he was removed from the ride.
Ah, the zoo. So much fun for the kids, so tiring for their parents.
Roommates
Papa Bear and I have been planning and plotting for a long time about the logistics of the boys sharing one bedroom. There are several reasons that we have wanted to make this happen. First, we want to have a spare room again...not selfish at all:) Second, M. has a problem with the dark and being scared at night. We have firmly held the belief that sharing a room with his brother will help to ease this tension for him. Finally, we will have a spare room again for guests...Grandpa and Safta.
This brings us to Thursday night when B would not calm down unless I stood in his room massaging his back and singing quietly to him. After an hour of listening to him scream, and I mean SCREAM, and trying everything we could to settle him down and then getting frustrated when M started crying as well, I plopped B down into the crib in M's room. M was ecstatic to have his little brother in his room and B stopped crying. I left the room, with my fingers crossed, and hoped that this would be the beginning of a beautiful thing.
Papa Bear and I sat in the t.v. room listening for any sounds or cries...and praying. It was a tense five minutes. Then the laughter began. We heard M saying something and B giggling. At this point, I was so frustrated that I was actually going to go into the room and tell them that it was bedtime and they needed to settle down. Apparently, I'm a monster. Thankfully, I did nothing and the laughing eventually quieted and sleeping commenced. It has been four nights and the boys are doing well with sharing a room. It seems to calm both of them and, if all continues to go well, Papa Bear and I will once again have the extra room that we have been dreaming of .
This brings us to Thursday night when B would not calm down unless I stood in his room massaging his back and singing quietly to him. After an hour of listening to him scream, and I mean SCREAM, and trying everything we could to settle him down and then getting frustrated when M started crying as well, I plopped B down into the crib in M's room. M was ecstatic to have his little brother in his room and B stopped crying. I left the room, with my fingers crossed, and hoped that this would be the beginning of a beautiful thing.
Papa Bear and I sat in the t.v. room listening for any sounds or cries...and praying. It was a tense five minutes. Then the laughter began. We heard M saying something and B giggling. At this point, I was so frustrated that I was actually going to go into the room and tell them that it was bedtime and they needed to settle down. Apparently, I'm a monster. Thankfully, I did nothing and the laughing eventually quieted and sleeping commenced. It has been four nights and the boys are doing well with sharing a room. It seems to calm both of them and, if all continues to go well, Papa Bear and I will once again have the extra room that we have been dreaming of .
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Underwear
I sent M off to school this morning with Spiderman underwear over his pull-ups...at his insistence. In fact, over the past several weeks, M has developed a LOVE for his underwear. He not only insists that he wear his Spidies daily, but that he put them on himself, which invariably means that they go on backwards...and often inside out.
Anyway, I went to pick M up and he was no longer wearing the cute outfit from the morning, but his "back-up", oops, there was an accident clothes that are stored in his cubby. I asked him if he had peed in his pants at least three different times to which he succinctly replied, "No." I asked if he had had an accident...again, "No."
We went to his cubby to pick up his artwork and his wet clothes. He had obviously peed himself cuz I noticed that even his socks had been changed. Again, I asked if he had peed in his pants. Again M responded, "No." Well, I can't force him to respond to my questions the way that I want so I left it at that and proceeded back to the car to put M and B in their respective car seats.
As I turned on the car and was about to pull out of the parking lot, I saw Ms. Wendy walking towards my car, so I rolled the window down and waited. Ms. W came over to tell me that M had told her that he was wearing underwear like the other boys and that he didn't want to wear his diaper anymore. M went potty with the other boys and was successful three times. Then right towards the end of the morning, Ms. W and M ran to the restroom for an "emergency" but didn't quite make it on time.
This was very informative. It explained M's sudden desire to wear his underwear...peer pressure begins at such a young age. I guess this school is worth the price...I don't even have to do the potty training.
Anyway, I went to pick M up and he was no longer wearing the cute outfit from the morning, but his "back-up", oops, there was an accident clothes that are stored in his cubby. I asked him if he had peed in his pants at least three different times to which he succinctly replied, "No." I asked if he had had an accident...again, "No."
We went to his cubby to pick up his artwork and his wet clothes. He had obviously peed himself cuz I noticed that even his socks had been changed. Again, I asked if he had peed in his pants. Again M responded, "No." Well, I can't force him to respond to my questions the way that I want so I left it at that and proceeded back to the car to put M and B in their respective car seats.
As I turned on the car and was about to pull out of the parking lot, I saw Ms. Wendy walking towards my car, so I rolled the window down and waited. Ms. W came over to tell me that M had told her that he was wearing underwear like the other boys and that he didn't want to wear his diaper anymore. M went potty with the other boys and was successful three times. Then right towards the end of the morning, Ms. W and M ran to the restroom for an "emergency" but didn't quite make it on time.
This was very informative. It explained M's sudden desire to wear his underwear...peer pressure begins at such a young age. I guess this school is worth the price...I don't even have to do the potty training.
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