Adventures in a plastic playland

Recently my son attended a birthday party at chic-fil-a. He quickly became completely fixated with the playland. He was a man on a mission - he refused chicken nuggets and cake all to be in the playland. Leaving resulted in the most major tantrum - complete with hitting and biting.

I guess he needs some desensitization therapy. Today we were invited to meet up with my friend Erica and her daughter Eileen (aged 3 and in LOVE with Daniel) at McDonalds. Perfect! Post-work snack for me and a playland desensitization therapy!

Let me set the scene.

90 degrees, high humidity. The sun directly over head, heating up the playland. My kid-already dirty and sweaty from a day full of play, ready to tackle this adventure. Mom-less dirty but also sweaty in a denim skirt and sandals.

The kids are playing nicely and Daniel is crawling up the slide a foot or so and then sliding down on his own. Eileen takes off for the enclosed spiral staircase to the top - Daniel follows. I allow him to go, thinking he will chicken out. Suddenly - Daniel takes off at full speed, my sandal falls off, and I'm losing ground! He gains the edge, gets to the top and goes crazy with glee. He is pounding the Plexiglas and smooshing his face on it. I am hunched over trying to maneuver over some plastic bench at the top. Then it hits me 1) I smell poop, and 2) there is no way in HELL I'm going down that scary twisty slide with a 15 month old with OI on my lap. I wouldn't even do it by myself! I hate twisty slides! But I'm trapped like a gerbil in this plastic fiasco, with the smell of poop gagging me - and since my only company in was 3 and under, I had to be the adult, and retrieve my child. Thank god he found going down the steps as fun as going up. We made it down without a fight. Because he was so hot, I was also able to lure him out of the playland with his sippy cup of ice water without a battle.

For the record, I think this brings the score for the week to baby 6, mommy 1 (but mine was a hard fought battle!).

Every other year...

A friend once told me every other year of childhood is a good year, and you just learn to love them in
the years in between. (Okay, so my 'friend' is Gayle, of "Oprah and Gayle" fame, and when I say "told me" I guess technically I heard it on her XM radio show....but whatev. Oprah and Gayle are my friends, they just doesn't know it yet.)



I agree. I think I am living that. When talking to other parents, I used to hear how lucky I was- "oh he is so good!" and "he's such an easy baby" . And it is true! Looking back on his first year, he was AMAZING - always slept well, transitioned from my room to crib perfectly, weaned himself to a bottle, then to sippy cups, always ate well, always liked to nap, he enjoyed going to daycare, NEVER had stranger anxiety, gave his pacifier up on his own, social beyond his years...

And, now, year two: I get hitting, biting, late walking, little talking, and the most fiercely willful attitude ever. Such a desire for independence accompanied by frustration at mommy-imposed boundaries. I am trying to convince myself that we are just getting our "terrible twos" out of the way early. There is just such a marked difference. I am just thankful that I able to breathe deeply,be consistant, and be firm. I don't feel badly about giving him time out, or saying no, or insisting on some words before he gets things - but it does make for some long and difficult days.

Despite our trials and tribulations of pre-toddler (gosh - everything comes with "pre- " now!) I also have new and wonderful things to love and enjoy: Learning to walk comes with lots of falls and gleeful tumbles into my arms. I also get intentional hugs with little pats over the shoulder. He likes to share his snacks with me and cracks up with when I say "no thank you" and turn my head like he does. We have our own little games that only we play together that make us laugh. He isn't clingy, but I love when he is toddling around and clings to my pant leg. Story time is more fun now - we sit in the corner by his bookshelf and read together before bed, taking turns picking books. He 'car dances' like his mama, and it makes him laugh when I catch his glance in the mirror.

I know we'll survive, and we'll make it to two. Maybe I'll get to brag how easy the 'terrible two's' went, or maybe I won't. I will love him more and more everyday.*






DISCLAIMER*more love will only be given days that I don't get bitten; on days were biting occurs, mom will maintain level of love. Increase in love will occur the following morning when I get hugs from the crib. Increased level of love will be that of the day of the biting plus the day on which the additional love is given, so as not to fall behind due to biting days.

Baby's First Beach

I feel really lucky to have been able to take the baby on vacation this year. I'm also very blessed to have wonderful friends to spend it with. This summer, we headed to my favorite vacation spot EVER - the outer banks of North Carolina. I loved it from the first time I was there with my good friends Danielle and Scott. I have been looking forward to sharing this beautiful place with my son since he was born.

My master plan was to leave home around 630 p.m. so he could sleep the entire 5 hour drive and I could just transport him peacefully into bed when we got there. What actually happened was we left at 9 pm, he slept the whole way, woke up when we got there 2 a.m., and cried and slept restlessly until 6:45 a.m. Oh well. I am happy to report that was the worst part of the whole vacation.

The first time we took him to the ocean, he headed straight in. He splashed in the surf and looked around with his big eyes, taking it all in. He had many ocean adventures (mostly because his Aunt Dani is determined that he be more ocean-brave than me!). One day the tide left a pool on the beach for him to romp around in. He splashed furiously. Occasionally a seashell found its way to his mouth, but he did pretty well. He spent hours playing in the sand, and destroying my pathetic attempts at sand castles.

He seemed to grow so much in a week. He played hard and he slept hard. He ate like a champ at the seafood buffet - crab legs, crab imperial, mahi-mahi - he tried everything we put in front of him. He cut two teeth, and learned that lots of people beside mommy say "no no!". Scott taught him to swing a wiffle ball bat (in the house), and he took his first little step on his own. He developed a love for peanut butter toast and went to his first aquarium. He had his first ride on a ferry. He loved the Christmas Store, and picked out his own ornament (a car, of course). He fed seagulls and yelled "eeee eeee" at them. He started to point at things he likes, and realized that dipping fries in ketchup is yummy. He learned to climb up steps, and to slide of furniture 'feet first'.

It was a wonderful week, with so many memories that I will always cherish.