Mugged by a toddler

What do talking on the phone, eating treats and drinking soda have in common?

These are all things I have to enjoy behind closed doors these days.

Danny has reached full-blown toddlerhood and that means whatever he sees apparently belongs to him. Despite what you may believe from my Libertarian outlook, I really don't mind sharing. But sharing is much more pleasant when you don't feel assaulted. What Danny does is more like a mugging where the weapon is the most annoying and shrill whining you can imagine.

Lately, I've noticed that I don't really eat much until after Danny goes to bed. For me, a nursing mother with a history of blood sugar crashes, that can be a disaster. I hate to sound like a martyr here, but caring for him and Girlface together leaves little time for me to eat properly or without being mugged. By the time my blood sugar tanks, I usually end up eating high-sugar snacks or drinks that I can down quickly instead of sipping of orange juice to help redirect my hunger to something healthier. So I wind up sneaking a cookie or a handful of candy in the bathroom or a Diet Coke in an opaque cup so as not to rile the terror, I mean, the toddler. Let's face it, cookies and Coke are quicker than a sandwich or some crackers and cheese or fruit.

Danny is also obsessed with the phone. If I'm on it, he needs to talk to whoever has called. That's not a problem when it's the Nanas or other family members. On the bright side, if a telemarketer or some other pariah calls, I can just hand the phone to Danny and he'll tell them all about his blanket and train tracks. And he does hand the phone back to me after a few minutes. So if you call and it sounds like I'm in a tunnel, it's because I'm hiding in the bathroom. And if you don't hear from me for a while, don't call or send a search party, just e-mail.

I added new photos to the February photo album:

From February 2009

I think he's finally getting it

This evening, I spoke sharply to Danny when he nearly dumped his food on the floor. He looked at me somberly then pointed to the time out chair and, nodding his head, said "Chair."

We've giving him time outs for the past three weeks. I'd been reluctant to try this particular discipline method because I just couldn't imagine him sitting still in a chair without restraints. Without realizing it, though, we've started this method at just the right moment. Remember a few weeks ago when Danny first began to tune in to our disappointment at his behavior? Shortly after that, the time outs began. Amazingly enough, he actually sat in the chair as I explained to him the rule that he had broken and that he was to sit there until I told him to get up. He protested loudly, but did sit there. With each time out since, he's gotten less and less fussy. Of course, for the time out to work well, he needs me to stand there and watch him, completely stone faced. He senses our disappointment in his behavior and doesn't like the feeling. How do I know it's working? The first time out he ever got was for spitting at or near our faces. Each time he spit, he got a time out. It took about a week of time outs on this particular rule, but he rarely spits anymore and when he does, it's because he's beat boxing (a new musical skill that we taught him).

In other Danny related news ...

• I've taught him how to play peekaboo with the baby. Unfortunately, he puts the burp cloth over her face instead of his. We have some work to do here.


• He bit me on the arm this evening. It wasn't malicious. I could tell he was probably thinking "Let's see what happens if I do this." But it will definitely leave a mark!


• Danny has gotten much more dexterous lately. He can blow bubbles all by himself, turn the cap on and off of the bubbles and even grasp the bubble wand when it's all the way in the bottle. I'm so glad he can now do this himself. Have I mentioned that I HATE bubbles?


• After Parents Morning Out this morning, Danny tried to run into the backyard though I'd told him to come in for lunch. I looked at him sternly, told him to come inside and he did, fussing the whole time. I'm just thrilled that he obeyed.

10 days and growing

With the first baby, everything is a culture shock - the lack of sleep and the sheer neediness of a newborn is something for which no one can truly prepare you. So far, our second-born has been a pretty easy baby. Girlface is just so quiet and pretty easy to figure out when she's upset. She rarely flinches at the noise level in the house and is usually in a state of quiet alertness when she's awake. It's hard to tell if she really is easier or if Danny was exceptionally difficult or if Jim and I are just more experienced. It's likely all three.

Girlface is 10 days old and has hit her first growth spurt. She wants to nurse all the time, and somehow this doesn't seem as difficult to accommodate as I had imagined (probably because my husband is home this week). This morning, I pumped out 2 whole ounces of milk (yeah, that's a lot) and she took her first bottle. Jim reports that she had much the same reaction that Danny did when he was her age. Girlface looked up at him with a funny little grin as if to acknowledge the different conveyance for the usual fare. She happily - and quickly - sucked down the milk and was back on me within a half hour.

So far, we've not used her name much around the house. Danny calls her Baby Ona. We just call her baby or baby girl or, my favorite, princess oblivious. Yesterday at the park, a neighbor asked what her name was and I had to think about it for a split second.

Danny has been adjusting pretty well. Today was one of the better days with him. I think a little extra attention from us has really helped. We've been doing special activities with him. Jim hooked up the child seat to his bicycle and took him for a ride around the neighborhood yesterday and today. Danny was just delighted. This morning, he and I went out together to the local rec center for Tot Time in the gym. He really needed some one on one time with me. Jim got to spend the morning with the baby, I mean, FIONA.

I added some new photos to the February album. Enjoy!

February 2009

Five days and a full hamper

Girlface is five days old and has already filled up her hamper with soiled clothes and blankets. We've already washed one load of cloth diapers and covers. The laundry just nearly doubled with the addition of one small person. I remember being amazed at this fact after Danny was born.

Girlface is doing very well. She sleeps very differently than Danny did, meaning she actually sleeps ... in her crib or bassinet no less. It took us nearly four months to get Danny to happily sleep anywhere but nestled next to my chest. The first night, I don't remember how she slept. Sunday night, she was up a lot because my milk came in. Monday and Tuesday night, she nursed every two hours. It seems manageable, but could, of course, change at any time. She's a very calm baby so far. My mother calls her the cloud of silence. Right now, she's up in her crib sleeping. It's hard for me to put her down, though, probably because she was inside me for nine months.

Danny is doing okay. He's your typical 2-year-old. He's come up with a few new words, "Sure" and "Maybe" being the two I'm most thrilled about. Unfortunately, I haven't heard either of them today as he's cried about 50 percent of his waking hours. To say he's a little out of sorts is an understatement. Jim is home and visitors have been coming and going. I have insisted on at least a few of his usual activities like playgroup tomorrow morning and Parents Morning Out on Friday going on as planned.

On Tuesday morning, we had our first outing with Girlface. We dropped Dan off to play with his buddy while we took Girlface to the public health department to get a birth certificate. Because we had her at home, we had to do the footwork ourselves to get her birth registered. I was dreading this, expecting to meet suspicious government officials, having social services show up on our doorstep. They may still show up, though. The county has a pilot program to send a nurse to visit every newborn baby in the county. Seems innocuous enough, but I don't let government officials in my house, ever, especially the seemingly well-meaning ones. (In fact, whenever Danny and I do a puzzle that has a police car in it, I tell him that police will help him if he needs help, but to never let them in our house without a warrant. I'm waiting for him to parrot that one back to me. That will be a proud day for me!)

Anyhow, we filled out the top part of the form with just the basic information. The bottom portion asked for medical information for the state's book of vital statistics. I love how they think it's vital to know my health history, details about my pregnancy and when my last menstrual period was. We didn't fill it out. The registrar informed us that she had to report that information to the state. (She doesn't, actually. There's no law that says we have to supply the state with my medical history upon the completion of my pregnancy.) But since I'm healthy and could honestly check "None" under all the health related queries, I filled it out and answered the rest of the questions as honestly as I could. I'm still shaking the indignity off.

The beginning of guilt

Tonight we got our first glimpse of what guilt looks like on a 2-year-old's face. It's been hard to tell whether Jim and I are getting through to Danny. Our disappointment or anger at his behavior doesn't seem to phase him. But as Jim was putting the finishing touches on our new booth cushions for our breakfast nook and Danny was eating dinner, it finally happened.

Danny was flailing about as usual at the dinner table. In the process, his tomato-sauce covered hands wound up on newly upholstered, but not yet Scotch Guarded, cushions. (I'll post some photos soon of our latest dollar renovation.) Our reaction was more to the tomato sauce on the new fabric than to him. We must have had really stricken looks on our face. He just stared at us somberly as we told him calmly, but in a very disappointed tone, not to touch the cushions with dirty hands. He started repeating slowly, "don't touch, dirty hands." Then he burst into tears. Jim got this incredulous, happy look on his face and said, "This is good." It is, of course, good to see him react to our disappointment. We don't want him to feel excessively guilty, but we do want him to want to behave, to know that he's done something wrong, something he should avoid doing in the future. Maybe he'll really remember not to put his dirty hands all over the furniture. Maybe he'll also start remembering to not throw toys, scream inside or flail about at the table.

But I nearly started crying myself as this little drama unfolded (partly because I'm pregnant, three days overdue and extremely hormonal). I felt a little bad for Danny. It was the first time that I've seen him learn a lesson and experience feelings of guilt. Jim went over and asked him if he needed a hug, which he did. Then Danny sat on my lap and let me feed him the rest of his dinner. All was right with the world again.

And here's a closeup of the latest fat lip:

Toddlers are tricky.

Ours seems impossible sometimes. He definitely senses something big is going on. I'm cranky, achy, impatient and overdue. Friday night, the midwife stopped by around 6:30, definitely an odd event for him to have non-family guests over that late. Friday was particularly hard. It was a warm day, but the yard was very muddy, so we didn't go outside and there was no Parents Morning Out. By late afternoon, I suggested we all take a walk down the court across the street from our house. A walk is an opportunity for us to teach Danny about walking on the street, keeping out of the middle, walking on the sidewalks, looking out for cars, etc. Toddlers rarely walk in a straight line. Danny was all over the place, very unhappy that we kept steering him toward the curb. Soon, Danny started running along the road. We told him to slow down. He didn't. He bit the pavement, came up bloody and now has a fat lip. We told him that he got hurt because he didn't listen. Are we horrible parents or what?

Lately, he's having trouble with transitions that once were easy for him and us, like getting out of the tub, going up for a nap, sitting in the cart at the grocery store. The five minute warning system that we thought was mastered is in shreds. He starts fussing as soon as he hears "Five more minutes to play then we have to [fill in the blank]." Oddly enough, he doesn't do any of this for Nana and PopPop or anyone else. Jim commented last night that Danny just doesn't understand why we tell him what to do. I replied, "And he probably won't until he's 18 or maybe even older."

Lately, I just can't figure out why he imitates everything we do but won't do as we say. He sees us doing things around the house, like cleaning up, putting dishes in the dishwasher or sink, taking naps, taking showers, etc., but resists doing these things on his own or at our direction. I have noticed that when we're at playgroup, he'll mimic what other kids are doing, like cleaning up toys. Peer pressure may be working on him already, which makes me wonder anew whether I should put him in some sort of nursery school setting twice a week. He has started saying things like, "Put it back" as he's putting a toy in the basket. But he also likes to break the rules as he's telling me what they are. For example, he screams in the house and then puts his little finger up to his mouth and says "Shhhh."

The practice baby

Though today is my due date, I am not in labor. I feel more normal today than yesterday, unfortunately. Yesterday, I had back pain and called in a reinforcement (a k a Nana) to help in the morning. With Danny, I was more certain of my due date and went into labor on that day.

It's been a worrisome week, though. Between the ice and snow and my midwife having a family emergency, I've been on edge about whether the midwife would make it to the birth. But face it -- even if we were going to a hospital or birth center, the ice and snow would have complicated things. So now that I'm not in labor on my due date, I've tentatively made plans for the weekend. I want to go to a kids consignment sale on Sunday to find some summer clothes for Girlface and maybe some cloth diaper supplies. Hope I make it.

We've put a Cabbage Patch doll in the bouncy seat in the living room. It's the practice baby. The first night, the first thing Dan did was hit her. Jim and I came down hard, then gave him alternatives, like gentle patting, playing peekaboo or kissing. We've been talking for months about babies, what they're like, what they do (cry a lot, drink booby juice and sleep). Now her car seat is in the van right next to his. He seemed quite tickled when I told him that she'd be sitting there and he could talk to her.

Snow!

Here are some photos of Danny's adventures in the snow this morning.

SNOW!!

Here we go again

Though it's totally against my educational beliefs, I've started exploring preschool for Dan again. This is one of those issues where we have to carefully examine our motives before committing our most valuable assets - time and money. Right now, my motivation seems to be that Dan and I need a break from each other. Whether that's a good motivation, who knows?

He's been a bear lately, with lots of tantrums and defiance. But in the past few days, he's had a language explosion and become a bit more bearable. Of course, my assessments of him are often more generous between Friday night and Tuesday, I've noticed. I work all weekend and this past weekend, he spent the night at Nana and PopPop's house. He's nearly speaking in full sentences, having somewhat coherent conversations and making connections that he couldn't have made, or at least expressed, a week ago. For example, Jim and Danny were reading Family Circus in the comics this evening. Danny pointed out that the mom had a vacuum and some other cleaning supplies. Jim asked him, "What do you think she was doing in there?" He replied, "Clean." I can't wait to hear what he has to say about Baby Ona.

All the things he can do at the preschools I've investigated are things we can give him at home. I'm not big on preschools where the main goal is to prepare children for indoctrination, I mean, traditional school. The two programs that I have looked into use some combination of learning through free-play approaches that encourage child-led development, like Waldorf or Reggio Emilio, We could pay up to $200 a month for a two-day program in a home-like setting. But it begs the question ... why would I pay that much to mimic the home environment? Is it the social aspect I think he's missing? Most young children parallel play in large groups, not really interacting with other children. Danny does have play dates of varying sizes throughout the week, from one on one to up to 16 kids of varying ages at church. How will this integrate into our plans to home school? I can't see putting him in preschool and then taking him out when he's too old for a program. Just how do you explain that to a five year old? "Honey, you're too old for the schools we can afford because the government steals our money to fund schools we would never dream of sending you to." Maybe that could be his first civics lesson.

As much as Danny and I may need a break from each other, he'll need me more once Baby Ona gets here. Maybe we can get on a waiting list and revisit the issue in the fall. Besides, I can't very well put him in preschool now ... he curses randomly and asks for beer whenever Jim is drinking root beer or ginger ale or he sees a commercial during football games.

An almost TV-less morning

Danny has been getting too attached to TV. And, of course, it is partly my fault. Being pregnant, sick in the morning, exhausted (Danny now says "Mommy tired") tends to shape our morning. I do manage to get our oatmeal mix made the night before so all I have to do is add water. But, lately, I turn on the TV and put him in his high chair with his apple sauce while the oatmeal cooks. He's also been giving us trouble going to bed, mostly because he wants to keep watching TV after Curious George is over.

I've been worried about it because once the baby comes, from what my two-child girlfriends have told me, the TV may become a bit of a babysitter for a few weeks. I don't think all TV is bad, but we do want to start setting some limits. So this morning, I decided to not turn on the TV until Sesame Street at 10 a.m. Amazingly enough, he asked for the TV only once and accepted my answer without tears.

I got out a few toys and he brought out one that he wanted to play with. In less than an hour, he had exhausted his interest in the Aquadoodle, Megablocks, Funky Footprints mat and his Little People zoo and was downstairs "feeding the cat" again. A few days ago, we found him down by the cat's dish scooping cat food into a nearly empty bowl. Now, he's fascinated with the process. Next, I decided to start some sewing while he was occupied. He came over and I gave him a box of ribbons and sewing notions (yes, I removed all the pins and needles) and he played for about a half hour exclusively with zippers, bobbins, ribbons and snaps. Bonus: I got to sew one more diaper, this one from an old felted wool sweater and an old prefold diaper. Photo to come, if you're interested.

Silly me, I was afraid we had ruined his attention span with all that TV. He's now watching Sesame Street and I'm going to go finish my turkey meatballs and clean up the sewing notions strewn about behind me.

Life before baby

I seem to be posting a lot of political rants lately. Maybe it's because in a matter of weeks, if not days, I'll be back in the all-night nursing, a dozen diaper changes a day and fuzzy-brained exhaustion stage. Pontification will likely take a long break and in it's place will be cute stories about how well our toddler is adjusting to his baby sister and how much he just loves her and never hits her or screams at mommy for attention. Please tell me you're catching the sarcasm here ...

My due date (January 22) is fast approaching and I thought that I'd just update you guys on what I'm up to when I'm not pontificating or hanging out with Danny. (The photo: Danny likes to pull up my shirt and listen to the baby. I didn't think he could really hear her, but a few times, he has made heartbeat sounds when he's listening.)

I've been sewing diapers for Girlface. We've decided to give cloth diapers a shot from the get go with Girlface. It would have cost us about $100 a month for at least the first three or four months to keep two in diapers. I really hate spending $100 a month on one item, especially if it's disposable. (Ask me sometime how I feel about the cable company to which we pay a hefty sum each month.) And I really like that we take our trash out to the curb twice a month instead of every week. Anyhow, Dan is still in disposable diapers. We switched to Luvs, a cheaper brand that fits him well and costs us only about $30 a month instead of the $40 for Pampers. So far, I've spent very little probably less than $300 (and not all at once so it doesn't feel like it's left a dent in our bank account). I've bought some brand new prefold diapers and some used diaper covers and even gotten some for free diaper covers, but to make things easier on Jim when I go back to work and for outings, I've also sewn some fitted diapers out of old t-shirts, old socks (for the soaker pad), old prefold diapers, an old wool sweater in one case, and fleece fabric from my extensive stash. Here's a link to some photos.