Visiting "the old guy"...

...and by 'old guy' I mean my Dad. And by the way, am I the only person that has family unwilling to commit to some form of "grandma" and "grandpa"? My mom signs cards "Grandma D'Lux". Daniel doesn't know that many vowels. My dad, although he is the appropriate age to be a grandfather, still thinks he is too young. But he likes being called 'old guy'. Whatev.

My dad is staying at a VA hospital right now. He is (was?) a non-compliant diabetic. He is staying there to complete a work program, have his diet and meds strictly monitored, etc. So far it has been a really good thing for him. For the first time since I can remember, he is taking care of his diabetes appropriately. The wing he stays in is filled mostly with vets who are recovering from substance abuse or who have some sort of manageable mental illness. Some of them are sort of sad, and remind you of people you would find in a less than wonderful nursing home. Some are very haggard, others just a little weathered. Most are 50-60, but a few younger guys passed by.

I had taken the baby there once before to visit, and he was pretty shy and was afraid. But today was a beautiful day so we stayed outside. Several guys were with my dad, anxiously waiting for us to arrive. Apparently they had all heard about him from my dad and were excited to meet us. Suddenly this group of guys who were sitting around chain smoking are now yelling at each other to "put that shit out" around the baby. Guys in wheelchairs and scooters whose eyes were cast down were now coming over to see if the baby would let them get close, or if he was afraid of their wheels. My son chased after them going 'brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr" and they all laughed into fits of coughing.

They all waited for the baby to warm up to them then went in for their "high fives". One of them who is friendly with my dad insisted on playing ball with him. It was so funny to see them chase after the baby, so worried he'd hit his head on the picnic table, or fall on the sidewalk.

They all had stories to relay about their own grandkids, and they all had their bits of advice: "thats good - give him strawberries instead of all that candy and cookies". "Teach him to hold hands in the street". They all cracked up when the baby would flash his big cheesy grin and giggle at them.

It was a fun afternoon. Hopefully some seeds of respect have been planted in my son, and hopefully he brightened the day for few very important people. We left such an impression, that we were invited back to "jam" on Saturday. I hear there is karaoke involved....

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.