My return!

Hello friends!

Mama pasta has returned. I wish had some elaborate, dramatic, and captivating story (meaning...excuse) for being absent, but I don't. Life is cyclical, with highs and lows, ebbs and flows. The start of school always wipes me out. Usually at this point, I have gotten on my feet and ready to tackle the holiday concert season. Not the case, this year. The year started off with my darling boy breaking his leg at the very start of the school year. After being set free from that cast, we had an uneventful few weeks - until Monday, when he fell over his own beloved "Caddie" the stuffed monkey and broke his toe. Because it was the same leg that had just healed, he was put in a little walking cast in hopes that he will continue to walk and keep up the muscle tone he had just regained. Happy to report, so far so good. He is walking and running around again, sporting an awesome Black and Gold Steelers themed cast inscribed with "#86 will you marry my mama?".

Our fall was full of pumpkin patches, playgrounds, and Halloween cookies. I'm looking forward to Christmas with him. He doesn't actually know anything about Santa, or the traditions, but he LOVES Christmas lights, presents, and festivities. He must get that from his great-grandma :)

Potty training is in full swing, and is pretty low stress-I guess because I'm happy with his progress, and it isn't really topping my priority list. I've been more interested in taking advantage of his interest in learning his numbers, letters, shapes, and colors. He likes playing with his flash cards - he calls it practicing, and he is showing interest in violin. "Take a turn NOW mama?" he asks when my last private student leaves.

He still struggles with his temper and obedience, and I still struggle with utter exhaustion. But, there is time-out and coffee and we carry on.

Hey Officer Hottie - Want a French Fry?!?!?

So I'm coming back from my local petsmart. It's nice out. Daniel has his window down, as do I, and we are rocking out to XM. Daniel has his nuggies and fries from Wendy's. We pass one police car and he gets excited.

"Lookie mama! Look at that. What's that?" He says
"A police car," I tell him "Say hello officer"
"Heeeeddddddooooo" he yells as the cop passes us.

We approach the intersection (the BIG one by my house with the REALLY long light...) and a second cop pulls up and we both miss the yellow and catch the red light.
"Oh mama lookie more!!" he says, pointing at the cop.
"Yup," I said absentmindedly "and that one is a hottie" (NOTE - a hottie with his window down)

"OH yeah oh yeah! Dat one is a hot - teeeeeee! Hiiiiii hottt-teeeee! HI HOTTIE!! Want a french fry?!?!?!" screams my child, AT the cop, as he attempts to throw fries out the window to him.

Then comes the slooowww head turn from the officer, who is mildly amused (?)

"Want - french FRYYYYYYYY!!!!?????" screams Daniel as he chucks another fry towards my open window. I am suddenly glad for D's bad aim and the sheer luck of me recently moving the car seat to the center.

I was an entirely new shade of red. I suddenly wished my child was LESS articulate. I kept trying to glance over to see if maybe he didn't hear? I mean, he was about 10 full inches away :-/

The light FINALLY changes and I attempt to get in front of him (Officer Hottie), knowing there was at least one more traffic light I could potentially have to sit through beside him if I didn't. I get in front of him - next light same thing - we caught the yellow and stopped for the red. I guess he was up for a laugh, cause he pulls from behind me, and gets in the turn lane next to me.

"Oh mama Looooookkkkk. Hi Hottie!! Hiiiiiiiii!" screams my child, this time adding his best siren imitation of "weeeeee ooooooohhhh weeee oooooooh"

Again, I get the slow head turn from Officer Hoty, as he peers at me over the top of his sunglasses. UNFORTUNATELY, it seemed to be more of a "what the hell" kind of look instead of "can I get your number" kind of a look. I detected a glimmer of a smile though ;-) The light changed, and sped off to my street (32 mph in a 35) as Daniel waved and yelled "Buh byeeee".

I guess Daniel's habit of repeating the last thing I say will never REALLY get old!


*Dedicated to Christine - my first college roommate, who would INTENTIONALLY break traffic laws in hopes of getting pulled over by policemen she deemed attractive*

A Free Spirited Afternoon

Most of my Saturday came and went in a blur. It was 4 p.m. before I knew it, and time to get D from his Dad. We meet 'in the middle' of our two residences at the High High Country Store. I pulled in front of the new addition, the Bogati Bodega. I had just received a hateful text message from my ex for pulling into the parking lot 3 minutes late. That kind of thing gets under my skin and I felt my evening unraveling, as a sweaty, cranky toddler approached my car. There were no niceties, and he sped off before I even had the car door closed. I was about to pull out when I realized the car beside belong the guitar teacher at my school. I looked around for him, and saw him in front of the Bodega catching a smoke break. His band was playing at the tasting room. I wanted to stay, but I couldn't imagine a dog (I doggie-sat Stella this weekend) and a toddler in a wine tasting room would work - "Come on," he said "you're a free spirited kinda gal." I am???? He helped me unload the kid, dog, and diaper bag.

The tasting room is lovely, with a few couches, a large dining table, and several smaller tables. We claimed a spot on the couch, I got myself a glass of white, and some water for D. In the back of my mind, I was just waiting for it to all go to hell - but it didn't! Daniel and Stella wandered around, charming every person in the place. He clapped and cheered yelling "guitar! yay!" He held Stella's leash tight, and everyone in the place seemed to be fans of dogs (and toddlers!). After a few minutes, I felt the tension in my shoulders dissipate and my mind was at ease. Maybe it was the wine, or the maybe it was the unscheduled downtime...whatever it was, it felt good. As the band closed out their final set, the sky opened up and the rain poured down. Daniel was excited - so out we went, me in a dress and flip flops, him holding tight to the dog - running out to the car in downpour, splashing in every puddle we could find.

We climbed into the car, soaked and laughing...I guess when prompted, I am free spirited!

Daycare provider, take 3

I hope to hold true to my tag line and that soon enough, I can claim "triumph" over childcare.

D's first sitter was my dear friend Ms. E. She is my dear friend who was (and still is) able to stay home with her daughter. As my maternity leave drew to a close, all I could think was how perfect it would be if D stayed with her. I had joked with her about it, but had no idea it would come to fruition. It was a match made in heaven, until we had to move away.

I moved closer to work - which is 45 miles from my previous residence and a seriously steep increase in cost of living. We were leaving behind D's father and his paternal grandmother who occassionaly cared for him. I was terrified about trying to find ANYBODY I could afford, let alone somebody who would actually be good for us. My wonderful friend Ms. E made a few calls, and found a friend of hers in the area who was recently 'retired' from a daycare center and is now staying home with HER daughter. For over a year it was basically a match made in heaven. But the spring brought us a rocky road, and ended in us parting ways abruptly. Long story short, D was no longer a good fit for their family. Discipline issues had returned.

D is now with Ms A, the mother of one of my students. She is a wonderful woman, in her 50's with a sincere love for D and his well being. He is an angel for her (of course) and is gleefully spoiled by being the only child under her care. She used to run a licensed day care with a head start program, so he is getting lots of structured learning activities. His behavior with me, however, has not improved...I would go so far as to say it has declined.

I'm being patient - as this has been a HUGE transition for him, and he asks often about his previous sitter and her family. He is also either getting a nasty sinus infection, or 2 year molars. Hard to tell. Regardless, it has been a rough week, and I'm exhausted. I'll be anxious to see how things go as my schedule at school thins down to nothing :-) I'm also excited that my sweet, loving, godmother/aunt has gotten us the 1-2-3 books! Soooo excited. I have heard from a few parents that it works. I'm hoping for some real-life examples, and some "if child does A, then parent does B" advice.

In all the chaos of the past week though, D has created his first painted masterpiece. He is SO in love with his creation. He insisted on carrying it down 3 flights of steps from daycare, held it in the care the whole way home, and only surrendered it to me for careful placement above the fire place. The medium is finger paint, done in red to celebrate "RED WEEK" at daycare. Enjoy!

Your Baby Can Read!

subtitled "Accidentally Intoxicated on a Random Monday".

Okay, first of all, don't judge me! 1) Intoxicated is probably an exaggeration and 2) I was totally supervised. I couldn't decide which title had more "pull". Personally, I wanted to go with "Intoxicated" but since this is supposed to be my "Mama" blog, I'll try and keep the focus on the kid, and off the antics of my beautiful disaster of a life!

My friend Jenny (yes, the Jenny so often mentioned on mamapasta) had decided we'd be hanging out most of the week since her husband was in NJ for business. On Monday, she did me a huge favor by getting Daniel from the sitter's while I had a meeting at work. As expected, the meeting sucked. We met back at my place (insert beer #1) and decided it was too hot to cook. I also decided I was again a lightweight.

We packed up the baby, and went for dinner (insert beer #2). Somewhere along the way, I got a little wound up and a little silly - much to Jenny's amusement. The entire way home, we are giggling and joking. We were sitting at a red light, and Daniel yells to us - "car mama! pizza - pizza". We look over, and there is a Papa John's delivery car next to us. We starting laughing hard. "Mama!!! Pizza!!" He yells as he points. We look over at the guy and continue to laugh ourselves to tears (its a long light!). Through our squeals - Jenny exclaims "Your baby can READ!"

I too, have decided he can read. We don't order pizza often, and I know for a FACT we haven't had Papa John's in over month thanks to my food poisoning in April. What other rational explanation is there (after two beers!)? My baby can read :-)

I'm sure this will all leave you wanting more info on how EXACTLY one ends up tipsy on a Monday...perhaps I need to spawn a new 'baby free' blog??

Mother's Day Reflections

Yesterday was (technically) my 3rd Mother's Day as a mama, but in actuality, it was our 2nd mother's day celebration. My first Mother's Day was nothing to write home about. It was the day Daniel's father decided to 'officially' start his new life outside of ours. Needless to say, at 5 weeks postpardom being suddenly thrust into MY new life as a single mom didn't seem to be cause for a celebration. I can't remember exactly what we (meaning my infant son and I) did - I know there was a lot of napping, and some Little House on the Prairie reruns. I can't recall the exact emotions of that first Mother's Day (thank GOD!)- but I remember thinking how this holiday would forever be ruined for me. I'm glad to say, I was wrong.

Sometime during the winter following that, I decided I wasn't going to have my holiday ruined. Along with some help from my dearest friends, a decision was made to make new and happy memories. I was barely scraping by financially, trying to deal with the increased cost of living and a one income budget, but I saved up for months to have a Mother's Day (and his 1 year portraits) professionally done. Jenny and her mom officially adopted me for Mother's day and we had a great lunch together, with words of encouragement from Jenny's mom, Kathy. The weather was beautiful, and after lunch, Daniel and I went outside, played trucks in the grass, and took dozens of photos. It was an awesome day, and the professional photos the following week were icing on the cake.

As Mother's Day rolled around again this year, I looked forward to it, knowing that after a long week, with many commitments, I would have my baby bear all to myself. This year for Mother's Day, I requested my cousin Dave to come over and attack my "Honey-Do List". I actually call it the "the shit that will not get done until I borrow somebodies man" list, but you get the idea...install curtain rods, hang bookshelves, put together toys from Christmas (yikes!), dismantle changing table...It was awesome! I can see the floor in my sons closet again, and thanks to the darkening shades, my mornings are no longer starting with the 545 sunrise. My evening was complete when Jenny and Joey continued the tradition of making happy memories with me. At my request, we dined on Pei Wei (take out...eating in really isn't that fun with a 2 year old!) and I got the most darling cards from my son, complete with red crayon inscriptions. I also took a nap, with no feelings of guilt, just entitlement! I have yet to book this year's photos, but I'm looking forward to it!

As I write this, I have such vivid and beautiful memories of the past 2 years - I remember the outfits we wore to lunch last year, and the roses from the waitstaff at the restaurant. I remember the cold rain during our photo shoot last year, and the sound of his laughter when he walked barefoot through the wet mud. I will always remember this year's card with the puppy, and strawberry jelly fingerprints. Just as important as these happy memories is how quickly and completely the ones from '08 have faded into nothingness. So here's to our '2nd annual mother's day CELEBRATION' - cheers!

Fell in love with him all over again on a random Monday night

Sometimes you just don't have the words...but this is why I love him.

His socks don't match, and that was his idea.

It is not unusual for him to be without pants.

He oozes wonderment and happiness.

Kitty Bubbles

D is obsessed with bubbles. He can't really blow bubbles. He CAN eat bubbles, lick the bubble wand, and spill the bubbles. The other day he was outside on the balcony playing. I had the door open, and was making dinner when I overheard the following:

CAT: Meeewoooowowww
D: catcat, catcat
CAT: oooooooowwww (bizarre guttural sound)
D: eat eat! EAT!!!! CATCAT EAT!!!!
CAT: (silence)
D: Gleeful giggles and slurping sounds then "mmmm, mmm, mmmmmmm"

I walk around the corner, and see my 30lb kid straddling the 20 lb cat, bubble wand in hand, trying to feed the kitty bubbles.

He didn't hear me coming around the corner, and when I said his name he jumped up. He starts wagging his finger at the cat "no no catcat. no eat!" With the toddler removed, the cat made a dash for safety.

My only guess is Daniel must like all the bubble solution he has licked up and wanted the kitty to have a taste too!

WARNING: not for the faint of heart...

We officially survived our first "big boy" stomach virus. I actually thought it would miss us - the 'plague' as I will call it, hit his sitter's house over the weekend, so we stayed away Monday AND Tuesday. I was sure that between the hiatus and the copious amounts of lysol and handwashing, we were safe. We were not. Wednesday night, Daniel tagged along as I helped a friend with her recruiting night at her school (this is how we enroll students in band and orchestra). All was well, until as I was talking to a parent and holding Daniel - then it erupted. All over me, the floor, his beloved Monkey. It continued as I ran down the hall. He got sick again in the bathroom. It was awful. I peeled off his shirt, wiped up what I could and bolted for the car. It was a 15 minute drive home and I was NOT about to have vomit in my car. I got in and prayed that we would make it home and that I would not catch the plague.

Those of you that know me, know that I DO NOT handle throwing up. In fact, the last time I had the stomach bug, and Daniel was just a baby, I insisted on going to the hospital to get that sweet IV drug that makes you stop puking. In my own defense, the only other time I had the stomach bug as an adult was in college, and MANY of us ended up in the hospital, unable to rehydrate - so I have a bad track record with this stuff. I'd take a root canal over this crap any day. So it shouldn't be surprising that my prayer in the car was "hail mary full of grace, and our father who art in heaven, I promise to take such good care of Daniel if you just spare me. Glory be, AMEN"

We got home, and suddenly Daniel realized there was a second casualty in this - MONKEY. I'll spare you the gory details, but Monkey was not suitable to be around any humans. Daniel was upset, but took it like a man, got his second and third favorite lovies (Ottis the Otter, and Kitty the Lion) and climbed in to bed. I put Monkey in a lingerie bag, hoping the tag that said "Not a Toy" and "do not wash" wasn't really accurate. I crossed my fingers and tossed him in.

I got ready for the worst possible scenario. Diapers and wipes and extra PJ's were on stand by. Towels covered the floor with more close by. The trash can was empty and ready for action. I inflated the air mattress so I could camp out if I needed to. After about an hour and half of reading books and getting sick, he fell asleep. My fear of germs won out over my mommy instincts, and I hauled ass out his room for the safety of my room and my bed.

I got up a few times through the night with him, but by midnight, he was out for the night. He was amazing. Never cried or fussed - just stood up, got sick in the trash can, and went back to bed. At 6:30a.m., he was up but was willing to snuggle on the air mattress with me for an hour. By 730 he was up for the day, and wanted milk. Sounded like a bad idea, but he insisted. To my surprise, he kept it down. Then came some juice, and 1 tiny square of toast. Guess we got the really fast moving version of this nasty bug.

By 10:00 am, we were both exhausted, him from being sick, and me from hunger and dehydration - too afraid to eat. We put on some Blues Clues DVD's and napped on the couch until almost 2pm.

Things are going well - and my insane hand washing and lysol-spraying continue. Tomorrow will be back to work for me and back to daycare for Daniel. We survived - and so did Monkey!!! To runs through the gentle cycle and a good toss on low heat - he's as good as new!

Mama's Pretty

Despite my claims that my son is the best baby swimmer, and the funniest, and the cutest, and the smartest, I can't really pass him off as the most verbal child. He is well within the 'normal range' and is picking up words faster and faster, but he has more "Danielisms" than real English. Recently though, if you listen more closely, he is spitting out real words (mostly commands, shouted at you) "Come here! Sit down!" etc. Sometimes we have no clue what he is saying, so we just make up the rest of the conversation.

This evening Aunt Jenny came over to have her practice hair and make up done - ironically, the make up lady is the mother of 1 year old twins, and the hair lady a nanny. With all people being baby friendly, we had a really good evening and Daniel dealt well with not being the center of attention for several hours.

After the professionals left, I was uploading pics and Aunt Jenny took on the task of getting him ready for bed.

"Do you like my hair, Daniel? Do you think its pretty?" she asked
"Mama preeeey" he said
How sweet! Jenny yelled in to see if I heard him
"Thank you baby bear!" I yelled back
"Welcome mama!" he said

What wonderful new words - Pretty AND welcome! Such a change from "mine...NOW!"

(and just for the record - Aunt Jenny looked stunning and truly lovely!)

An answer to the rhetorical question...

...but first, a word on how my son kicks ass at baby swim class. Yes, I just used "kicked ass" when describing what went on at a baby swim class. It is not like the boy with the bone disease is going to be the star quarterback, so really, I'll take any shining athletic moment I can! He was awesome - below you will find a list of the things he was the BEST AT:
1) sliding off the edge
2) jumping off the edge but ONLY on my mommy cue
3) singing wheels on the bus
4) blowing bubbles
5) chasing balls
6) chasing and gathering rubber ducks
7) laying on his back
8) kicking
9) splashing other people
10) voluntarily sticking face in water
Basically, he was amazing. He even got to be the "demo" baby.


And now, onto the rhetorical question. Nearly every day of my life involves a considerable amount of time looking for my keys. I have thrown my keys in the trash, left them in the door, and lost them in Nashville at ???? It just seems that when it comes to putting my keys somewhere, my mind is already way ahead and on to the next task, or else I am doing my purse/briefcase/violin/diaper bag/grocery bag/baby/stuffed monkey/sippy cup/cell phone juggling act, and have lost my keys in the process of not dropping the baby.

Ever since I can remember, I have always asked Daniel where my keys are. I don't even realize I say it, because I say it every flippin' time I try to leave the house. "Where's mama's keys Daniel?" ..."Daniel, have you seen mommy's keys?" Obviously, as a baby, he never answered, and most of his speaking life, he has ignored me, or acted like he didn't understand the words coming out of my mouth.

This morning he is watching Blues Clues and having his morning banana. I'm trying to load the car, and my arms are full. "Where are my keys?" I yelled. Calmly and nonchalantly came "right there mama". I was stunned. In 22 months, I have never heard my question answered. He was listening? He processed? I thought it was funny, until I turned around and saw he was actually pointing at my keys, with his eyes still on Blues Clues, banana in hand, leaning against the couch. I followed his chubby pointed finger, and there, behind my boots, where my keys.

I ran over and smothered him with kisses. I got a little nuzzle in return then he pushed me away (I was in front of the TV...) "Shoe-ies, mama. Right there," I looked at him funny because we both already had shoes on..."Keys shoe-ies," He says again, this time with just a hint of exasperation, as if my questioning look that made him repeat himself somehow inconvenienced him. "oh, I get it - you're telling me my keys were behind my shoes?" I asked. He nods yes, I pick up my keys, and he claps and yells and OVER enthusiastic "yay!". Great...a patronizing 22 month old with a flair for the dramatic... (I cant imagine where who he got that from?)

Snowpocalypse II

Blizzard of 2010, Snowpocalyse, Snowmagedon, Snowtorius B.I.G - call it what you will (preferably NOT the later) but we are buried. I'm going with Snowpocalpse II, because I was calling the 19" we got in December the original Snowpocalypse.

I don't ever get homesick, but I have to admit this winter makes feel like I'm right back in Western PA, and I like it. As a child, my cousin Davey and I were tossed out of doors by my grandmother in every sort of weather. 100 degree heat? Stay in the shade, get a drink. Blustery winds? Zip up your jacket. Rain? Stay on the patio (it had a roof). Blizzard? Put on 12 layers of clothes, thick socks, grocery bags on your feet, moon boots, mismatched outwear gathered from the basement and closet, 2 pairs of gloves (one snug fitting, one waterproof) add at least 1 scarf, a pair of earmuffs, and a hat...and get out of the house.

To be honest, I don't think we ever complained about being out in the snow. We always had sleds and our imaginations. I remember one day we just sat there, eating fistfuls of snow until we swore it tasted like blueberries. We would build speed bumps to fly over in our sleds and build snow forts, which we favored over boring old snowmen.

This was what the winters of my childhood were made of, and I hope Daniel's are as memorable. I adapted the concept of layers - snug pants, then fleece, then a waterproof layer. He got his thick socks, but I spared him the plastic bags. He got gloves, a hat, and a hood. He was sweating. Guess he did get my thick blood! Out we went, in a blizzard. He LOVED it. He did not want to come in, even after his gloves were soaked, his hands were red, and his eyelashes heavy with snowflakes.
The next day, once the snow was falling lightly, we went out twice. Today, with no snow falling, we walked through what sidewalks were cleared to watch the "dumpy" (dump truck) and the plow move snow.

He helped me shovel-he insisted actually. He moved his fair share of snow in his toy dump truck. He scraped ice from the rear bumper of the car. He would get so brave, running into the snow, until it came up to his ankles. Then came the frantic cries of "help! stuck! help! mommy mommy" I tried showing him that he wasn't stuck, but that he just had to try harder. He flopped down on his butt. "UH oh- Stuck" Now he was stuck, because bending at the waist isn't really an option with 3 pairs of pants on. My job was to plop him back on the path, on his feet.

I hope these are his happy winter memories, because these are my new winter mommy memories.

Strong-Willed, Part 2

I finished the book. And when I say finished, I mean I skipped the chapters on siblings and adolescences and ADHD. I found everything in it to be good information, but, I feel like it was really lacking in some practical applications. Like, do this for that, and instead this try that. I appreciated the he accepts that spanking, even done appropriately and in a loving way, is not for every child. (spanking was my major issue with the "other book". My excitement over this part of the book quickly diminished when no alternative consequences were offered.

I will likely reread the parts I found applicable, and mull it over again, seeing how I can get the application of this process down. If nothing else, my changed attitude towards his willful nature made the read worthwhile.

On a lighter note, toddler bed transitioning is going well. Gets a little better every night. Tonight, no 'suppernanny' process of sneaking out - I just left after stories. A few minutes later, I hear paper rustling. I peak in, and he is reading a HUGE Blues Clues book - laying down, trying to hold up a hardback book of about 100 pages above his face. There he is, "reading" in complete darkness...silly boy!

Strong-Willed Child, part 1

I have come to the conclusion that I am the parent of a "strong-willed child". I have met many other children D's age. He is much more extroverted, social, and independent than other kids. Even on the rare occasion that he cries for me, he only wants a quick squeeze to reassure him. If I scoop him up to comfort him, I get the baby wiggles, as if to say "geez mom, not in front of my friends!" If you have met me, you are not surprised I have produced such a child. If you had the "pleasure" of having to be around me as a small child (XOXO aunt shell, aunt dana, aunt jodi...) then I believe you're a throwing your head back and laughing at karma.

I have been struggling with him on some issues since he was about 15 months. A book was recommended to me, with an emphasis on biblical parenting. I WANT to raise my son with his heart open and ready for God, but I could not find much in this book that I could agree with, let alone implement. It left a bad taste in my mouth, and I sort of gave up on the idea of any more books. I set out to be consistent, patient, and more firm. Well, that's not working, or else I'm still lacking something with my parenting skills.

My friend's mom recommended Dr. Dobson's "The New Strong-Willed Child". I was resistant because of my experience with the other christian parenting book. This week I stopped making excuses. I can read it, and chose to disagree, no harm done. So far, I am pleasantly surprised (because the first book was so bad?). I have yet to delve in very far, but I have read enough to have an important change of heart:

D's strong will is not a bad thing. All kids have different temperaments, each with its own blessings. His strong will and his strong spirit are two different things. His will can be tamed without taking away his spirit, the things I love about him - his independence, humor, determination. That was sort of profound for me. I am hopeful and on my way to grateful - moving away from feeling like I'm the ONLY person whose child behaves like this.

I think it is very popular book, so as I get through it, I'll do a few posts with my 'review' and hopefully, in the end, I'll also have some positive results to share as well! If you've read the book - please leave a comment. If you think your little angel is strong-willed, I'd love to hear about that too!

Heading towards toddler bed triumph

If you happen to also be my friend on facebook, you may have been following our struggle to the toddler bed. Im not much for submersing myself if advice books and websites, but I did a little researching prior to committing to the toddler bed.


1) "Don't move the baby based on needing a crib. Many parents find it would have been easier to buy a new crib"

Oops. Daniel ate his crib. He also shook it so furiously, so many times, he stripped the screws and it was unsafe. I'm too poor to buy another (better constructed crib). Plus, the toddler bed I found on sale, with free shipping is TOO cute.

2) "Get your child excited about it"

He was REALLY excited, until he showed me how he was going to go "nigh nigh" and bashed his forehead off the headboard. Oops...again.

3) "wait until you child has the cognitive skills to understand the bed has imaginary boundaries"

Ummmm...isn't that what the guardrails are for? Plus, the words 'mummy, I understand the boundaries of this new sleeping arrangement' are not really in his vocab.

Well I guess I'm 0 for 3. I did however, have one thought that was my deciding factor. If I do it now, in the winter - it will be DARK during his bed time - and he wont be able to see his toys! Truly, I had hoped it'd be so dark, he wouldn't even be able to stumble out of bed - or if he did, he wouldn't be able to find the door. (is that messed up, or genius?)

The first night was pretty awful. He was overtired and had a bad attitude. The process was cry, leave bed, mom retrieves, repeat. Took about 40 minutes. He woke up between sleep cycles at midnight, and I had to return him to bed. Same thing 40 minutes later. To top it off, he was up at 630 a.m. (almost an hour early) and was not happy.

Tonight, I went into battle prepared. Bedtime routine started right on schedule. I dimmed the lights for his bath, and lit one of my spa candles. I put on the SPA music channel. Lavender sleepy time bubbles and shampoo, followed by the lavender bedtime lotion. In bed at 7 for stories. I was feeling optimistic when he even laid down to listen!

I used the supernanny technique to ease out of the room. I thought we did it, until the door clicked shut, and the crying began. After a few minutes, I realized its just the door completely shut that was freaking him out for some reason. This time I left it cracked. I just spent the last few minutes putting him in bed 5 or 6 more times - but it was all without a fuss. He would stand up, go to the door, I snapped my finger and pointed - and back to bed he went.

An hour later, he is in there, asleep. I'm going to hold off on closing the door though! Hope tomorrow works out just as well...I do work late, so I know the schedule will be a little off. Third time is a charm?

A lion in the bath

I finally broke down today and removed the Christmas decorations and the tree from our home. Daniel was in a good mood, and sort of happy to be left alone to toddle around and play while I worked. We had a few time outs for stories together and to play some "zoom zoom" (cars) but he spent a good portion of the morning entertaining himself - apparently by hiding objects around the apartment for me to find. Below is a list of what I have found so far. I have to charge up my camera to document these strange findings.

1) Stuffed lion in his bathtub
2) Keys in my boot (a favorite from when he first became mobile)
3) Ride on school bus, grocery cart, and push toy in my bathroom
4) Tupperware in my hamper
5) Baby lotion on the built in bookshelf
6) Tennis ball in the cat food self feeder (with the lid on, so it was a surprise)
7) Spoons (clean, must have been removed from dishwasher) in the pots and pans cupboard
8) Barney DVD shoved underneath the dvd player (probably trying to play it)

DRUM ROLL...MY ABSOLUTE FAVORITE, AND THE FIRST THING I FOUND......

9) 2 bowling pins in the drawers underneath his bathroom sink.

I can't imagine exactly what he was thinking - except maybe he saw me shuffling about putting things away, and he was trying to imitate me. Whatever his plan was, it certainly made me laugh. Now he is sleeping soundly, and I am honestly thinking about hiding MY stuff in his toy bins as he sleeps - not sure, but the joke may be lost on him.

He was THAT kid...

(oops! From Jan 11 - forgot to post!)

We have all seen it - and most of us have stared. That kid in the store. The kid who is wailing and crying. The kid who you KNOW cannot be consoled. The kid that makes you remember to take your birth control. The kid that childless people whisper about, and other moms look at with a more knowing look. Today, the store was Super Target, and the kid, was mine....almost.

Daniel gets burned out after 4:30. He just wants to go home, play with his toys, eat, and sleep. I avoid errands on weeknights, because I know it will take endless energy on my part to make it a pleasant trip. Today I weighed the odds - do I take him to the store to get the milk (not a drop in the house) or do I roll the dice and try and put him to bed with Tang...You'd think it would be a no-brainer. Get the milk. BUT, Daniel woke up an hour early, was testy at daycare, and still had his diaper in a knot even after a 3 hour nap.

Starts off well - princess parking near the front. Holding hands to cross the parking lot. We had just hit the entry way when he asks for "Keh-Uh". Keh-Uh, is his beloved, disease-ridden stuffed monkey. Keh-uh doesn't usually go in to the store, because he only goes to daycare now for nap.

I explained that "keh-uh" was in the car, and he could have him after we got milk. He asked again, and again, but before I could say "no", he started to fly off the handle. I thought about going back, but we have been working to stop the tantrums he uses to try and get his way. It would have been an easy walk back to the car, but my desire for consistency on the tantrum issue won out. I dragged him out of the doorway, and back outside. I talked - he listened. He processed the info, then decided to cry and scream about it. There we stood, working it out, crying and screaming, outside of target. I was in the mommy-zone! I hear from behind me "good job mom!". I look up and some woman gives me the thumbs up. It took almost five minutes, but he dried up his tears, apologized to me, gave a kiss, and took my hand to proceed.

I was proud of myself for 1) getting him in the door and 2) staying calm and being cheerful with him after his little spell. He goes to investigate the motorized cart, and goes back into Gremlin mode when he is told no. Deep breath. This time, we found a nice little naughty corner by the oranges.

Making our way to the milk was no easy task. We made it up to the checkout line, when a nice woman with limited english tries to tell me my 'daughter' has stopped crying because I am no longer making 'her' stand out in the cold. Thanks lady-great insight. Then, in line the person who threw out the 'good job mom' went passed us. She smiled and waived, and said "you have to pick your battles, and win them when you do, right?" I just smiled and thought to myself how true that is.

The nice cashier gave me my stuff in two bags, so Daniel could carry one (which made him soooo happy!). We are walking out, hand in hand, with Daniel swinging his little bag, ear to ear smile. I guess we were the center of attention that day, because a third person stopped us on the way out - "He is so cute! I can't believe his so happy now after all that yelling by the oranges. Whatever you said it must have worked." I thanked her, and told Daniel to wave bye bye to her, and he obliged.

I left feeling sort of happy. How did these strangers know that I needed their words today? I don't live in a small-town - people will rarely even hold a door for you, let alone speak to you. Somehow though, my random stranger support group made my day :-) Maybe they knew that one dirty look would have redirected my mom-discipline into "Real Housewives of Atlanta" rage towards them....

A new cook in the kitchen...

My son suddenly has a new fascination with cooking. He has always followed me around the kitchen, usually getting underfoot, trying to climb into the dishwasher, getting out pots to bang on, etc. Recently he has been reaching and grunting for me to pick him up. I have been reinforcing 'words', so now I get "uh uh uh uh uh UP uh uh uh UP". At first I thought he just wanted me, or something on the counter, but after a few of these moments, I realized he wanted up to see what I was doing, and to help.

I got out our step stool, and he climbed up, thrilled to finally be at the counter. At first I just let him have a bowl of water and a spoon to play with. I mixed, he mixed. I tasted, he tasted. The next time, I let him help. We made chicken satay - and he stirred the sauce together with a mini whisk. So cute! Then he helped me wash the broccoli, shaking the colander under the running water.

Now, every time I cook, he wants the stool out. I have put a little set together of plastic utensils that he can get out of the lower cupboard himself. Today we made french toast. He helped beat the egg and soak the bread. He was not happy that he couldn't be at the stove, but he understands that its hot (I always say "not safe for Daniel", which he understands as something different than just "no", so I get less attitude from him). He moved aside and practiced flipping his pretend french toast safely away from the stove top.

In addition to the helping with the satay and french toast, Daniel has also been the 'sprinkler of oregano' on our garlic bread, 'stirrer of oatmeal', and 'cheese grating supervisor' (supervisor since I deemed that task also "not safe for Daniel").

I am charmed with his interest in big boy tasks - putting stuff in the trash can, unloading the dryer, unloading the dishwasher, and now cooking!

MAMA PASTA HOLIDAY FRENCH TOAST:

Beat 2 eggs together with about 1/8 cup of your favorite 'seasonal coffee creamer'. We love the gingerbread.

Fry in pan with butter ('tis the season!)

Use cookie cutter to cut them into Christmas trees or gingerbread men (we have tiny gingerbread men cookie cutters, and Daniel likes to dunk their heads in syrup)

Top with powdered sugar, or syrup, etc.