I know my son loves me. I know it every time he smiles when he sees me. I know it when he takes my hand to lead me some place. I know it when he reaches out for a gentle hug and when he runs at me full force giggling and crashing into me.
But I am also learning he is a confident, secure, independent little boy. He made this abundantly clear two nights ago. I laid him down and told him good-night. He got up pretty quickly. I decided to give him about five minutes to see if he would put himself back to bed. (He was REALLY tired when I put him down.) I checked on him and he was still sitting contently playing with a box. When I opened the door, he went to his bed, rubbing his eyes. I gently told him it was time to go night-night. I thought if I sat down on the floor of the hall with the door open, he would stay in bed and close his eyes.
No sooner did my tush hit the floor than his feet did too. He walked over towards me. I thought he wanted to snuggle. Nope. He closed the door on me!!!! I couldn't help but laugh to myself. So I thought I'd see when / if he would go to sleep. I checked on him twenty minutes later. He had pulled 85% of his books off of the shelf and was playing happily by himself! I changed his diaper again. He could barely keep his eyes open on the changing table. I rocked him for a few minutes. He seemed ok with the idea of going to sleep so I put him in his bed. I sat beside him, patting his back. He closed his sweet little eyes. As soon as I paused the patting, he opened that top eye to see if I was still there. Sneaky little booger! I continued patting, he continued checking. Eventually, I outlasted him and he found he could no longer open that eye.
He slept through the night just fine. But I kept shaking my head at my two-year-old closing the door on me. I love how much he loves me. And I love that he feels safe and secure enough to want to be alone as well.
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Is This Too Easy?
Well, we're two nights into the "big boy bed" and I keep wondering if this is too easy. I bought a video monitor yesterday to help me keep an eye on him. It definitely helps with my peace of mind.
Night One, his father put him to bed. Jackson didn't go immediately to sleep (but who among us does?) But he didn't get up either. We even checked on him, opening his door a couple of times. He looked at us but never fussed or asked to get up. He slept through the night, didn't fall out of bed, and waited until one of us came in in the morning to get off the bed. I will admit, I haven't checked on a child so often during the night since I first brought him home!
Night Two, I put him to bed. He had a few more tears. But some nights, he cries. He did get off the bed a couple of times, according to the fabulous video monitor. But he immediately got back on the bed and went to sleep within a reasonable span of time.
I keep wondering, is this too easy? I mean, I've been absolutely dreading him being in an unconfined bed. I think part of my fear stems from him being slow to speak. Because I don't get verbal feedback, argument, opinion, or acknowledgement, it's hard to know what he's thinking or intending. But he's evidently understanding. Or else, he's biding his time and plotting. I'm convinced it's too early to call success. I don't want to live my life as a pessimist. But yes, I'm waiting for my initial dread to be justified. Maybe it won't be. Maybe it really is this easy. Maybe he really is that laid-back. Maybe he really does understand much more than I realize. Maybe he is that good of a little boy.
Maybe...
Night One, his father put him to bed. Jackson didn't go immediately to sleep (but who among us does?) But he didn't get up either. We even checked on him, opening his door a couple of times. He looked at us but never fussed or asked to get up. He slept through the night, didn't fall out of bed, and waited until one of us came in in the morning to get off the bed. I will admit, I haven't checked on a child so often during the night since I first brought him home!
Night Two, I put him to bed. He had a few more tears. But some nights, he cries. He did get off the bed a couple of times, according to the fabulous video monitor. But he immediately got back on the bed and went to sleep within a reasonable span of time.
I keep wondering, is this too easy? I mean, I've been absolutely dreading him being in an unconfined bed. I think part of my fear stems from him being slow to speak. Because I don't get verbal feedback, argument, opinion, or acknowledgement, it's hard to know what he's thinking or intending. But he's evidently understanding. Or else, he's biding his time and plotting. I'm convinced it's too early to call success. I don't want to live my life as a pessimist. But yes, I'm waiting for my initial dread to be justified. Maybe it won't be. Maybe it really is this easy. Maybe he really is that laid-back. Maybe he really does understand much more than I realize. Maybe he is that good of a little boy.
Maybe...
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Converted the Convertible Crib
After the escapades surrounding yesterday's nap, last night's bedtime, and repeated attempts at today's nap, we removed the front rail. My hope is that the novelty of jumping over the railing will be removed and he'll just stay in bed. Maybe I'm naive. Only time will currently tell. And as to the "rolling off the bed" issue, I figure it's a much shorter and safer fall than the over-the-top-rail plummet. I laid out a pallet of two thick blankets for the just-in-case. (Ok, for the inevitable.) I even took a picture of my knuckleheadappotamus in his first night of a big boy bed. I think a small part of me wanted the camera close by in case he also decided to sleep in some completely unpredictable, but absolutely adorable contortion.
When we began "bedtime," he kept laughing at me and trying to get off the bed. After a few minutes of that nonsense, we decided DADDY would do the putting to bed. At least for tonight. After a few additional minutes of just the two of them, Lino asked firmly but kindly for Jackson to stay on the bed and walked out of the room. We sat there with bated breath, hovering over the monitor and wishing we had a video monitor. We listened for tell-tale signs of him playing or reading or doing other non-bed related activities. We heard none. It was the familiar sounds of him babbling that he makes most nights. Ten minutes after Lino put Jackson to bed, he went downstairs. But not without opening the latched door to check on him.
Sure enough, he was still on his bed. I peeked in a few minutes afterwards. He was sitting up, but was on his bed. Both times, he saw us. Both times, he didn't cry. And most impressively, both times, he stayed put. It's only been twenty-five minutes thus far. But maybe, just maybe, this will be an easier undertaking than I expected. Only time, and the morning, will tell...
When we began "bedtime," he kept laughing at me and trying to get off the bed. After a few minutes of that nonsense, we decided DADDY would do the putting to bed. At least for tonight. After a few additional minutes of just the two of them, Lino asked firmly but kindly for Jackson to stay on the bed and walked out of the room. We sat there with bated breath, hovering over the monitor and wishing we had a video monitor. We listened for tell-tale signs of him playing or reading or doing other non-bed related activities. We heard none. It was the familiar sounds of him babbling that he makes most nights. Ten minutes after Lino put Jackson to bed, he went downstairs. But not without opening the latched door to check on him.
Sure enough, he was still on his bed. I peeked in a few minutes afterwards. He was sitting up, but was on his bed. Both times, he saw us. Both times, he didn't cry. And most impressively, both times, he stayed put. It's only been twenty-five minutes thus far. But maybe, just maybe, this will be an easier undertaking than I expected. Only time, and the morning, will tell...
Monday, June 25, 2012
Houdini is Here...Now What?!?
What a weird day! I laid Jackson down for his nap after storytime at the library. He was tired and had eaten, so I knew he'd fall asleep easily. Except he didn't. I grabbed a quick bite downstairs, sans baby monitor since he usually sleeps for a couple of hours. Didn't think anything of it. Then I came upstairs to do some laundry. I heard his door faintly bumping and assumed the fan was causing a draft and the latch was hitting the door jam. So, I thought I'd peek to make sure he was asleep and pull the door closed so it would quit making noise.
Imagine my shock when I opened the door and found my son standing on the other side of it, gently opening and closing it!!! My first thought was, "Huh." Then it clicked. HE GOT OUT!!! At that point, my heart was in my throat. I checked him over and noticed no bruising or blood. And he was happy as a lark. So we went downstairs and played, with me unsure whether he'd ever been to sleep or not. He acted like everything was great and he was wide awake. (I did tell him he was not supposed to crawl out of his crib, but rather to just say "Up" and one of us would come get him.)
He helped me vacuum. I gave him some milk. He indicated he was hungry so I sat him in his high chair and gave him a frozen Greek yogurt popsicle. (He LOVES those things!) Knowing he was content and safe, I ran upstairs for a couple of minutes. When I came back down, my previous question was answered. No, he did not fall asleep at all when I laid him down earlier. How did I know? Because he fell asleep in his high chair (but not until he ate his popsicle.) I wiped him down, carried him up, and tucked him in bed. I was very conscientious to have the monitor on, turned up loud, and on my person at all times.
Good thing, too. As soon as I heard him stirring, I quickly went upstairs, hoping to prevent an escape. I slowly opened the door. What did I see? His arm, head, and one leg straddling the side of the crib, halfway over, ready to drop. He saw me, sat back down in his crib, and smiled. I explained again that he was not supposed to crawl out or attempt to get out by himself.
Bedtime comes. I've gone to a workout class and have warned darling hubby to be aware of the possibility. Sure enough, Lino tells me shortly after he put Jackson to bed, he hears a very loud thud. He gets upstairs and finds Jackson outside his crib, rubbing his arm. He puts him back, firmly tells him to not climb, and begins to walk away. The next thing he knows, Jackson is straddling the crib rail. Evidently, his philosophy is not one of finesse. He gets halfway over and fearlessly drops the rest of the way, hoping for the best! Lino finally stands by the door with it mostly closed, opening it and chiding Jackson when he begins to climb. After a few minutes, Jackson lays down and goes to sleep.
It will be interesting to see what the morning brings. It will be interesting to see what the next few days bring. Is this a passing novelty for him or is he going to forever refuse to be confined to a crib anymore? Do I just put his mattress on the floor, get him a toddler bed, or just put him in a big bed with a crib rail? I don't have the foggiest idea what I'll do!
But I do know one thing. My baby's not a baby anymore.
Imagine my shock when I opened the door and found my son standing on the other side of it, gently opening and closing it!!! My first thought was, "Huh." Then it clicked. HE GOT OUT!!! At that point, my heart was in my throat. I checked him over and noticed no bruising or blood. And he was happy as a lark. So we went downstairs and played, with me unsure whether he'd ever been to sleep or not. He acted like everything was great and he was wide awake. (I did tell him he was not supposed to crawl out of his crib, but rather to just say "Up" and one of us would come get him.)
He helped me vacuum. I gave him some milk. He indicated he was hungry so I sat him in his high chair and gave him a frozen Greek yogurt popsicle. (He LOVES those things!) Knowing he was content and safe, I ran upstairs for a couple of minutes. When I came back down, my previous question was answered. No, he did not fall asleep at all when I laid him down earlier. How did I know? Because he fell asleep in his high chair (but not until he ate his popsicle.) I wiped him down, carried him up, and tucked him in bed. I was very conscientious to have the monitor on, turned up loud, and on my person at all times.
Good thing, too. As soon as I heard him stirring, I quickly went upstairs, hoping to prevent an escape. I slowly opened the door. What did I see? His arm, head, and one leg straddling the side of the crib, halfway over, ready to drop. He saw me, sat back down in his crib, and smiled. I explained again that he was not supposed to crawl out or attempt to get out by himself.
Bedtime comes. I've gone to a workout class and have warned darling hubby to be aware of the possibility. Sure enough, Lino tells me shortly after he put Jackson to bed, he hears a very loud thud. He gets upstairs and finds Jackson outside his crib, rubbing his arm. He puts him back, firmly tells him to not climb, and begins to walk away. The next thing he knows, Jackson is straddling the crib rail. Evidently, his philosophy is not one of finesse. He gets halfway over and fearlessly drops the rest of the way, hoping for the best! Lino finally stands by the door with it mostly closed, opening it and chiding Jackson when he begins to climb. After a few minutes, Jackson lays down and goes to sleep.
It will be interesting to see what the morning brings. It will be interesting to see what the next few days bring. Is this a passing novelty for him or is he going to forever refuse to be confined to a crib anymore? Do I just put his mattress on the floor, get him a toddler bed, or just put him in a big bed with a crib rail? I don't have the foggiest idea what I'll do!
But I do know one thing. My baby's not a baby anymore.
Friday, June 22, 2012
Hair Trials and Triumphs
The good (or bad) thing about hair is that nothing is ever permanent. Even "permanents" aren't. Our little family had adventures in hair these past few days.
We buzz cut our son's hair this week. We thought it would feel cooler for the summer. Almost instantly, we regretted it. Don't get me wrong, he looks great. The problem is that he looks, well, older! With his height, he already looks more than his two years. With his sweet, sweat-induced curls folding back on the top of his head gone, he looks even more mature.
Although my husband has always insisted his boys will have short hair, we both agree, maybe a little bit long on the top again would be okay. Yep, we'll grow it back out. I'm sure at some point, Jackson will have his own opinions. I'm sure at some point, father and son will disagree on hairstyles. But until that time, we're in control. And his hair will be a bit lengthier.
I, on the other hand, adore my hair. It's in the same cut I've had for a while. But I still love it. I've also dyed it very bright purple. As strange as it may sound, I feel natural and right and, well, ME with my hair whacked, in a faux hawk, and purple. When the color fades and it grows out too long to style the fun, sassy way I enjoy, I get a little annoyed. Parted on the side and mousy brown bores me when I look in the mirror. I just feel more alive and energized and fun and saucy when it's a little funky. It's not about attention, it's about liking the reflection. And I think the purple faux hawk reflects my spunk and personality. I know the purple isn't "natural" looking. But anyone who chemically straightens, curls, or colors their hair does it for the exact same reason I do. They want to feel beautiful and sexy.
Good cuts must be maintained. Bad cuts will grow out. I'm sure I'll change my style at some point. I'm sure Jackson will have his share of good and bad styles over the years. And I can only imagine if we ever have a daughter. But to me, hair is one of those things that's easily changed to reflect mood and personality without being detrimental or, well, permanent.
We buzz cut our son's hair this week. We thought it would feel cooler for the summer. Almost instantly, we regretted it. Don't get me wrong, he looks great. The problem is that he looks, well, older! With his height, he already looks more than his two years. With his sweet, sweat-induced curls folding back on the top of his head gone, he looks even more mature.
Although my husband has always insisted his boys will have short hair, we both agree, maybe a little bit long on the top again would be okay. Yep, we'll grow it back out. I'm sure at some point, Jackson will have his own opinions. I'm sure at some point, father and son will disagree on hairstyles. But until that time, we're in control. And his hair will be a bit lengthier.
I, on the other hand, adore my hair. It's in the same cut I've had for a while. But I still love it. I've also dyed it very bright purple. As strange as it may sound, I feel natural and right and, well, ME with my hair whacked, in a faux hawk, and purple. When the color fades and it grows out too long to style the fun, sassy way I enjoy, I get a little annoyed. Parted on the side and mousy brown bores me when I look in the mirror. I just feel more alive and energized and fun and saucy when it's a little funky. It's not about attention, it's about liking the reflection. And I think the purple faux hawk reflects my spunk and personality. I know the purple isn't "natural" looking. But anyone who chemically straightens, curls, or colors their hair does it for the exact same reason I do. They want to feel beautiful and sexy.
Good cuts must be maintained. Bad cuts will grow out. I'm sure I'll change my style at some point. I'm sure Jackson will have his share of good and bad styles over the years. And I can only imagine if we ever have a daughter. But to me, hair is one of those things that's easily changed to reflect mood and personality without being detrimental or, well, permanent.
Monday, June 18, 2012
May He Always Be
There are certain things about my son that I love and am blessed enough to see daily. I love it when other people discover and delight in him. After all, I'm his momma. Of course I love him and think he's fantastic. There is just something so affirming when I hear positive feedback regarding him.
At church on Sunday when I went to pick him up, two of the ladies that work there both saw me and at the same time said, "Your son LOVES to dance!" May it always be so. May he never care or notice what others might think or say. May he always have the uninhibited love of music and movement. May he always be so full of sheer joy that he can think of nothing better to do than dance!
Yesterday afternoon, my husband, son, and I were hanging out in the den. Jackson was playing his guitar and (shockingly enough) dancing. He handed my husband his toy microphone. Lino, thinking he was expected to sing, began to. Jackson quickly reached for the mic and tilted it away from Lino's mouth towards his own. He sang into the mic as he played the guitar. Noticing the slightly puzzled look on Lino's face, I explained. "He doesn't want you to sing. You're the mic stand!" May it always be so. May he always be clear in his communication, even before he has words. May he never be shy or timid. May he always have that problem-solving ability and not give up when something (playing guitar and using a microphone) doesn't seem easily obvious.
Today, we went to the local amusement park. We were waiting near the front to meet up with some other moms and kids. While we waited, there were two workers dressed up as Nellie Bly and Phileas Fogg. Jackson wanted out of his stroller so he could give them high fives. I let him. Thank heavens these two were there! They kept him quite entertained and unfrustrated with the waiting. He, however, seemed to charm them to pieces as well. Particularly "Nellie." She loved his high fives and hugs. She melted when he smiled and giggled. They played together for quite a while. She kept laughing and saying, "I love this kid! I mean, I would jump in front of a bus for him. He is awesome!" All of which made me beam with joy. But the piece de resistance was when she exclaimed, "He is a baby bunny riding a baby turtle on a beach while covered in buttons, glitter and bows! He is everything that is right and wonderful in this world!" I leaned down and told him, "Son, that is probably the best compliment you will ever get." May he always be so. May he live a life that always brings sunshine and joy to those around him, whether he knows them or not. May he impact people in a positive way. May he leave every place he goes and every person he meets a little better than when he got there.
At church on Sunday when I went to pick him up, two of the ladies that work there both saw me and at the same time said, "Your son LOVES to dance!" May it always be so. May he never care or notice what others might think or say. May he always have the uninhibited love of music and movement. May he always be so full of sheer joy that he can think of nothing better to do than dance!
Yesterday afternoon, my husband, son, and I were hanging out in the den. Jackson was playing his guitar and (shockingly enough) dancing. He handed my husband his toy microphone. Lino, thinking he was expected to sing, began to. Jackson quickly reached for the mic and tilted it away from Lino's mouth towards his own. He sang into the mic as he played the guitar. Noticing the slightly puzzled look on Lino's face, I explained. "He doesn't want you to sing. You're the mic stand!" May it always be so. May he always be clear in his communication, even before he has words. May he never be shy or timid. May he always have that problem-solving ability and not give up when something (playing guitar and using a microphone) doesn't seem easily obvious.
Today, we went to the local amusement park. We were waiting near the front to meet up with some other moms and kids. While we waited, there were two workers dressed up as Nellie Bly and Phileas Fogg. Jackson wanted out of his stroller so he could give them high fives. I let him. Thank heavens these two were there! They kept him quite entertained and unfrustrated with the waiting. He, however, seemed to charm them to pieces as well. Particularly "Nellie." She loved his high fives and hugs. She melted when he smiled and giggled. They played together for quite a while. She kept laughing and saying, "I love this kid! I mean, I would jump in front of a bus for him. He is awesome!" All of which made me beam with joy. But the piece de resistance was when she exclaimed, "He is a baby bunny riding a baby turtle on a beach while covered in buttons, glitter and bows! He is everything that is right and wonderful in this world!" I leaned down and told him, "Son, that is probably the best compliment you will ever get." May he always be so. May he live a life that always brings sunshine and joy to those around him, whether he knows them or not. May he impact people in a positive way. May he leave every place he goes and every person he meets a little better than when he got there.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
An Ordinary Day in an Ordinary Life
I wish I had something new to say. I don't. I love my life, my friends, my family, my hubby, my son. It was a rather ordinary day. We walked. We did therapy. We, well he, napped. We played. We danced. We ate. I've had a good week. I've enjoyed my son immensely. We went to an amusement park. He invented new games. He played his drums. We read. But nothing exciting has happened.
And I am perfectly okay with that. I don't need a life full of drama. My every waking moment doesn't have to be filled and busy. I like going out. I like being with people. I like adventures, travel, and trying new things. But I'm also perfectly content with ordinary days. Nothing in life is ever predictable. That in and of itself keeps me on my toes. I don't know if my kid, husband, or even myself will be a holy terror or sheer delight. (Usually, we're all pretty delightful. But you never know...)
I'm a firm believer that we are products of our experiences. And I think my experience of caregiver for a terminally ill husband and my subsequent widowhood have made me grateful for ordinary. I don't crave the ups and downs of a tumultuous relationship. I don't want to deal with the lows in order to also have the highs. I have an ordinary life with extraordinary people. I like the simplicity of curling up as a family to watch an old Disney classic, like "Lady and the Tramp." I enjoy taking walks and playing barefoot in the backyard with my two guys.
Every time I hear other people talk about all the junk in their lives, I'm once again glad for the kind, stable, steady relationships in my own life. I have a good relationship with my sibling and siblings-in-law. I have a good relationship with my parents and mother-in-law. I have a good relationship with my friends and extended family. I have good relationships in my own little home. And I am not remotely bored with anything in my ordinary life.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Beta Tester
Evidently, my son has taken a job on the side without my knowledge. He's decided to become a Beta tester for Pampers and push the limits of their diaper capacity. Turns out, those diapers are pretty good stuff! Now mind you, he decides not to attempt maximum limits until AFTER his bath. (After all, why should he soil himself when he's already dirty from playing outside and getting licked by dogs?)
But when I changed his last diaper before laying him down this evening, I was shocked and impressed. Shocked that my little boy (even though he's a big, little boy) was capable of that kind of output. And extraordinarily impressed that the diaper contained it all. I didn't have to re-bathe him. I didn't have to change his clothes. I didn't have to start the 1,279th load of laundry for the day. YAY!
I will give my knucklehead credit for one thing...at least when he decided to pee once the diaper was off, he did it pre-bath. He doesn't pee very often without the diaper, so I won't complain too much. But it's hard not to want to vent at least a little when you have to wipe down the walls, changing pad, remove the cover, and oh yeah, clean oneself.
Every day he surprises me with something new. Usually it's a new word, sound, game he invents, or a new inch he grew overnight. Today, he decided to surprise me with his capacity and job as a diaper tester. Hopefully, they pay well. Heaven knows I pay well for those diapers! Turns out, they're worth it!
But when I changed his last diaper before laying him down this evening, I was shocked and impressed. Shocked that my little boy (even though he's a big, little boy) was capable of that kind of output. And extraordinarily impressed that the diaper contained it all. I didn't have to re-bathe him. I didn't have to change his clothes. I didn't have to start the 1,279th load of laundry for the day. YAY!
I will give my knucklehead credit for one thing...at least when he decided to pee once the diaper was off, he did it pre-bath. He doesn't pee very often without the diaper, so I won't complain too much. But it's hard not to want to vent at least a little when you have to wipe down the walls, changing pad, remove the cover, and oh yeah, clean oneself.
Every day he surprises me with something new. Usually it's a new word, sound, game he invents, or a new inch he grew overnight. Today, he decided to surprise me with his capacity and job as a diaper tester. Hopefully, they pay well. Heaven knows I pay well for those diapers! Turns out, they're worth it!
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Sense of Humor
I don't know why I'm always so surprised and impressed by my son's sense of humor. After all, his father is the funniest person I've ever known in real life! But I'm constantly amazed by my kid. Maybe it's, in part, because I don't remember being two. But really humor is just an inborn, God-given blessing that usually shows up extremely early in life.
Don't we all coo and swoon over a newborn's laughs? Don't we all make ridiculous faces and sounds to try and coax another laugh? Why, then, if I've been hearing my son's awesome laugh for so long, am I still so astonished? I guess it just reminds me (in a pleasant, non-tantrum way) that he has opinions and thoughts. He finds things funny. Most of the time, I don't get it. But I love hearing him laugh. We were watching a children's game show as a family this evening. All of the sudden, Jackson would just start cracking up! I'm not sure what about the show tickled his funny bone, but he sure got the giggles.
Earlier this afternoon, my husband had put him down for a (theoretical) nap. When I got home from the grocery store, he had been down for about 15 minutes. I turned on the monitor so I could hear him when he woke up. Yeah, right. He was lying in his crib, chattering inarticulately. He would then burst into random fits of laughter as though he had just made up the funniest joke ever. I'll admit, I didn't go get him right away. I just couldn't bear to interrupt. He was so content and I was loving listening to his conversation and laughter. (I'm not positive, but I believe he was talking to Tigger and his snuggling bear.)
He is starting to become more communicative. His signs are better, more consistent, and clearer. But even more exciting, he's learned a few more words and is beginning to string a couple together. Yes, I look forward to knowing what he wants to eat and have a conversation. But I cannot WAIT to find out what's so funny to this little knucklehead! I know the jokes he'll tell me won't make any sense and the punch lines will be silly. But I also know I will laugh my head off and find him hilarious.
Don't we all coo and swoon over a newborn's laughs? Don't we all make ridiculous faces and sounds to try and coax another laugh? Why, then, if I've been hearing my son's awesome laugh for so long, am I still so astonished? I guess it just reminds me (in a pleasant, non-tantrum way) that he has opinions and thoughts. He finds things funny. Most of the time, I don't get it. But I love hearing him laugh. We were watching a children's game show as a family this evening. All of the sudden, Jackson would just start cracking up! I'm not sure what about the show tickled his funny bone, but he sure got the giggles.
Earlier this afternoon, my husband had put him down for a (theoretical) nap. When I got home from the grocery store, he had been down for about 15 minutes. I turned on the monitor so I could hear him when he woke up. Yeah, right. He was lying in his crib, chattering inarticulately. He would then burst into random fits of laughter as though he had just made up the funniest joke ever. I'll admit, I didn't go get him right away. I just couldn't bear to interrupt. He was so content and I was loving listening to his conversation and laughter. (I'm not positive, but I believe he was talking to Tigger and his snuggling bear.)
He is starting to become more communicative. His signs are better, more consistent, and clearer. But even more exciting, he's learned a few more words and is beginning to string a couple together. Yes, I look forward to knowing what he wants to eat and have a conversation. But I cannot WAIT to find out what's so funny to this little knucklehead! I know the jokes he'll tell me won't make any sense and the punch lines will be silly. But I also know I will laugh my head off and find him hilarious.
Saturday, June 9, 2012
Discipline
We've all heard the old adage, "you discipline the ones you love." I think as a society, we see the results of good disciplining, abuse, and lack of discipline. So, how do you find the balance and provide good discipline to your kids? My brilliant parental answer is....IT DEPENDS.
It depends on the age of the child. I discipline my two-year-old son. I don't beat the snot out of him. I never have and never will. I try time-outs. I offer him choices. I tell him the consequences of each option. I don't make idle threats. I always follow through. And I occasionally swat his leg. Some people think two is too young. I try really hard to keep my expectations reasonable. But as he shows me new things he's capable of doing, my expectations of him grow accordingly. When he shows me he can open drawers and pull things out, I know he's able to put things away and close the drawers. And I truly believe he enjoys helping. He gets a smile of pride on his face when he's accomplished a task I've assigned him. He grins when I clap and tell him what a good job he's done. He understands positive affirmation. I believe that means he also understands directions and corrections.
My son may not understand all the words and choices I give him. But maybe he understands more than I realize. When it's time to go to bed, I don't give him the choice of going to bed or not. I give him the choice of walking or being carried up the stairs. He still has some level of control in his life. He learns to make choices. But within safe, structured, secure boundaries. If he throws a fit, he's still made the choice. Refusing to walk up stairs is, by default, choosing to be carried.
He knows when he's unhappy and throws a fit. He knows when he's angry and tries to hit mommy. He also understands that just because he's angry doesn't mean he's going to get his way or be allowed to act out against others. I've seen him make choices when he's angry to hit the couch beside me instead of me. That means he's learning. Why would I not continue to reinforce that learning and that behavior? I won't allow him to act violently because he's "too young." Otherwise, I'm giving him a free pass to act solely on instinct now. At what age, then, do I start telling him he must control his impulses?
I've heard tweens and teens swear at their parents. I've listened to parents complain how lazy, ungrateful, disrespectful, and ugly their children act. And I'm not saying that will never apply to our child. But I cannot help but wonder, do they discipline their kids? At what age did they begin? I don't think you can begin to discipline a 15-year-old out of the clear blue without having ever given them boundaries, choices, consequences, and follow-through. If authority has never been established, why would they subject themselves to discipline now?
I don't have it all figured out and I don't pretend to. I cannot tell someone else how to parent or discipline their child. But I can promise you this, hitting or biting me will never be tolerated. Cussing at me will never be met without discipline. Disrespecting me will always have consequences. And guess what else? I cannot promise it, but I am confident that, come what may, my child will eventually have self-discipline. He may not always make good choices. But I believe he will take pause and think about some of those choices and their potential consequences. And I hope that my setting realistic, age-appropriate expectations, giving him choices, and providing him with discipline will turn him into a pleasant adult down the road.
It depends on the age of the child. I discipline my two-year-old son. I don't beat the snot out of him. I never have and never will. I try time-outs. I offer him choices. I tell him the consequences of each option. I don't make idle threats. I always follow through. And I occasionally swat his leg. Some people think two is too young. I try really hard to keep my expectations reasonable. But as he shows me new things he's capable of doing, my expectations of him grow accordingly. When he shows me he can open drawers and pull things out, I know he's able to put things away and close the drawers. And I truly believe he enjoys helping. He gets a smile of pride on his face when he's accomplished a task I've assigned him. He grins when I clap and tell him what a good job he's done. He understands positive affirmation. I believe that means he also understands directions and corrections.
My son may not understand all the words and choices I give him. But maybe he understands more than I realize. When it's time to go to bed, I don't give him the choice of going to bed or not. I give him the choice of walking or being carried up the stairs. He still has some level of control in his life. He learns to make choices. But within safe, structured, secure boundaries. If he throws a fit, he's still made the choice. Refusing to walk up stairs is, by default, choosing to be carried.
He knows when he's unhappy and throws a fit. He knows when he's angry and tries to hit mommy. He also understands that just because he's angry doesn't mean he's going to get his way or be allowed to act out against others. I've seen him make choices when he's angry to hit the couch beside me instead of me. That means he's learning. Why would I not continue to reinforce that learning and that behavior? I won't allow him to act violently because he's "too young." Otherwise, I'm giving him a free pass to act solely on instinct now. At what age, then, do I start telling him he must control his impulses?
I've heard tweens and teens swear at their parents. I've listened to parents complain how lazy, ungrateful, disrespectful, and ugly their children act. And I'm not saying that will never apply to our child. But I cannot help but wonder, do they discipline their kids? At what age did they begin? I don't think you can begin to discipline a 15-year-old out of the clear blue without having ever given them boundaries, choices, consequences, and follow-through. If authority has never been established, why would they subject themselves to discipline now?
I don't have it all figured out and I don't pretend to. I cannot tell someone else how to parent or discipline their child. But I can promise you this, hitting or biting me will never be tolerated. Cussing at me will never be met without discipline. Disrespecting me will always have consequences. And guess what else? I cannot promise it, but I am confident that, come what may, my child will eventually have self-discipline. He may not always make good choices. But I believe he will take pause and think about some of those choices and their potential consequences. And I hope that my setting realistic, age-appropriate expectations, giving him choices, and providing him with discipline will turn him into a pleasant adult down the road.
Thursday, June 7, 2012
Why Won't He Sleep on MY Schedule?
I know I have no right to complain. I have an awesome little guy. He's generally well-behaved and pleasant. He makes me laugh. He sleeps through the night. He's even starting to communicate better. Last night, he even went so far as to tell us when he was tired and ready for bed.
However, he did not get the memo that Mom and Dad prefer to sleep past 6 am! Yep, the knucklehead was up and ready to start his day at six o'clock in the stupid morning. Which meant he ate "lunch" and was down for a nap before 10:30 am! Unless he's growing and decides to take a very long nap, this could be a very long afternoon. If he wakes up at or before noon, he's going to be such a grumpy gus by the time his father gets home!
I'm hoping somehow he'll pull off a miracle and either sleep for three hours or stay happy and alert for seven post-nap hours before bedtime. Both are kind of a stretch in expectation. So this afternoon is a total crap shoot.
Any ideas how to get a two-year-old to tell time and know they're not allowed to cry or talk or call for Mom and Dad before a reasonable hour? I'm sure my parents would tell me this is some sort of karmic debt I'm repaying for not sleeping late or napping well for them. But it's not like I'm asking the kid to sleep until 9. Just the occasional seven o'clock would be spectacular... C'es la vie!
However, he did not get the memo that Mom and Dad prefer to sleep past 6 am! Yep, the knucklehead was up and ready to start his day at six o'clock in the stupid morning. Which meant he ate "lunch" and was down for a nap before 10:30 am! Unless he's growing and decides to take a very long nap, this could be a very long afternoon. If he wakes up at or before noon, he's going to be such a grumpy gus by the time his father gets home!
I'm hoping somehow he'll pull off a miracle and either sleep for three hours or stay happy and alert for seven post-nap hours before bedtime. Both are kind of a stretch in expectation. So this afternoon is a total crap shoot.
Any ideas how to get a two-year-old to tell time and know they're not allowed to cry or talk or call for Mom and Dad before a reasonable hour? I'm sure my parents would tell me this is some sort of karmic debt I'm repaying for not sleeping late or napping well for them. But it's not like I'm asking the kid to sleep until 9. Just the occasional seven o'clock would be spectacular... C'es la vie!
Monday, June 4, 2012
What's the Problem with Authority?
I'm not going to preach on how families and households should be set up (that's a different subject altogether.) But I will ask one question - why do people get their hackles up when it's mentioned that someone does or should have authority over them, even in a small matter?
I recently saw a FaceBook post that someone responded "my husband does not and will NEVER have authority over me!" She was quite emphatic on the matter. And it got me thinking. Whether we voted or not, whether we agree with the people or not, we're ALL under someone's authority. We're all subjected to the authority of a mayor, governor, president, and judges. Most of us are or have been subjected to the authority of a boss and/or a parent.
I may not agree with my Commander-In-Chief, but he still is. And he's in authority over every person in our Armed Forces, to whom I give my undying gratitude and respect. I may have disagreed with bosses at times. But I don't remember ever pulling out the attitude of a four-year-old and saying, "You're not the boss of me!" (Um, yeah, they are.)
Here's the kicker, though. Just because someone is in authority, it does not give them carte blanche to run your life and make your every decision. Authority does not equate dictator. Sometimes, a final decision has to be made. And isn't it good to know who's ultimate decision something is? I can present a proposal to a manager and discuss their counter-proposal. We can go back and forth. But ultimately, that person is in authority. And ultimately, that person is accountable.
A good person in authority will consult with and take into account the voices and opinions of others. They won't make dictatorial decisions and rule with a heavy hand. Instead, they'll be a servant leader, putting other people's and the organization's (i.e. family, company, or country) needs and well-being ahead of their own. And if that's the case, I'd rather NOT be in authority. As long as I am treated with respect, valued, and appreciated, I am okay to acquiesce control to another in some circumstances. And I know that I'll always (respectfully) speak my piece to the person in charge. But I also know, my butt's not the one on the line!
I have authority in my own life, don't misunderstand. I have authority over my son. But guess what? I put his needs (not his every whim, however) ahead of my own. And I hope and pray he'll appreciate the sacrifice and effort I put into him. Yes, I've got authority. And I'm under authority. And I don't always agree. But I will not rage against the very term "authority." It's not a four-letter word.
I recently saw a FaceBook post that someone responded "my husband does not and will NEVER have authority over me!" She was quite emphatic on the matter. And it got me thinking. Whether we voted or not, whether we agree with the people or not, we're ALL under someone's authority. We're all subjected to the authority of a mayor, governor, president, and judges. Most of us are or have been subjected to the authority of a boss and/or a parent.
I may not agree with my Commander-In-Chief, but he still is. And he's in authority over every person in our Armed Forces, to whom I give my undying gratitude and respect. I may have disagreed with bosses at times. But I don't remember ever pulling out the attitude of a four-year-old and saying, "You're not the boss of me!" (Um, yeah, they are.)
Here's the kicker, though. Just because someone is in authority, it does not give them carte blanche to run your life and make your every decision. Authority does not equate dictator. Sometimes, a final decision has to be made. And isn't it good to know who's ultimate decision something is? I can present a proposal to a manager and discuss their counter-proposal. We can go back and forth. But ultimately, that person is in authority. And ultimately, that person is accountable.
A good person in authority will consult with and take into account the voices and opinions of others. They won't make dictatorial decisions and rule with a heavy hand. Instead, they'll be a servant leader, putting other people's and the organization's (i.e. family, company, or country) needs and well-being ahead of their own. And if that's the case, I'd rather NOT be in authority. As long as I am treated with respect, valued, and appreciated, I am okay to acquiesce control to another in some circumstances. And I know that I'll always (respectfully) speak my piece to the person in charge. But I also know, my butt's not the one on the line!
I have authority in my own life, don't misunderstand. I have authority over my son. But guess what? I put his needs (not his every whim, however) ahead of my own. And I hope and pray he'll appreciate the sacrifice and effort I put into him. Yes, I've got authority. And I'm under authority. And I don't always agree. But I will not rage against the very term "authority." It's not a four-letter word.
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