We have reached a stand-off, Little Man and I.
We have entered the stage that all toddlers enter--the one where they only want to eat one or two choice foods. Usually chicken nuggets, french fries, those sorts of things. In our house, it's pureed veggies, bananas and yogurt.
Yes, his favorite food is still mashed up spinach, broccoli and cauliflower.
Last night, as I was sneaking mac and cheese into his veggies, I chuckled at the irony. Oh, what other mothers would give to have my problems.
Me? I'd just like him to chew his food.
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Saturday, July 20, 2013
On The Eve of Three
This time three years ago, I was in the first stages of labor (although I didn't know it) and Little Man would make his appearance in less than 24 hours. I remember those last few "normal" hours of being a family of two, before I started counting minutes between contractions, before the 5 AM drive to the hospital, before knowing that that day was actually THE day, and not another false alarm. Before the first time I set eyes on my son.
And then I blinked, and three years has passed in a flash.
Birthdays are a big deal to me. We have birthday weekends, birthday weeks, birthday events. This is the first year Little Man really understands the day, and we've been talking about it for several weeks.
"You have a birthday coming up. How old are you going to be?"
"Thirty five seventy three!" Said with great accomplishment.
"Are you sure?"
"No, that silly. Thirty five seventy three our house number! I be three on my birthday, Mommy."
"That's right. And what do you want for your birthday?"
"A balloon! Two balloons. And a steam train."
He does not want for much, so Husband and I can make his wishes come true this year. When he wakes up tomorrow, he will find balloons waiting for him, and when he unwraps his big birthday package he will find a big Lego train, which I have no doubt we will begin construction on immediately.
And as luck would have it, our city hosted the National Model Train Convention this very weekend. We spent a chunk of our time there yesterday, and will be returning tomorrow to let Little Man bask in the glory that is a huge exhibition hall full of model train layouts.
Next week we will have a party--not a big one as Little Man has an intimate circle of friends--but a party nontheless, with more balloons and a train cake. And then we'll begin our journey of being three, and seeing the world as only a three year old can.
I can't wait.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Rocking Chair DJ
These days, our nighttime routine goes bath, books, songs and snuggles. For months Little Man has requested the usual melodies: Old McDonald, The Farmer in the Dell, various Disney songs.
But lately Little Man has wanted a little more out of his songs. He wants originals.
It started out innocently enough when I sang about Farmer Goofy, instead of Old McDonald, after we read a book about Goofy. Little Man got a kick out of that and the next night when we'd finished our Dr. Suess and I launched into a lullaby version of The Farmer in the Dell, he covered my mouth with his hand.
"No, no," he said. "A song about Go, Dog, Go? A song about the mop the mop the mop?"
Since then, Little Man has been testing my improv skills every night. Pulling his favorite bits from his day and his stories, he requests songs about himself, his favorite trains, and the lines from books that make him laugh. I'm usually pretty good at creating them the first time around--but then when he asks me to sing them again and I don't get the words exactly right, he stops and makes me start again. And then the next morning, I hear him singing the songs I made up to himself while he plays.
It's a fun little way to end our way, and apparently it inspires Little Man to make up his own songs, too. The other morning Husband and I caught him singing, to the tune of Jingle Bells:
Jingle bells, jingle bells, choo choo all the way, oh what fun it is to ride in a big steam train!
This was impressive for several reasons: one, I didn't make that song up. Two, I didn't even know he knew Jingle Bells. Three, he managed to make a pretty good rhyme.
Maybe Little Man has a future in music.
But lately Little Man has wanted a little more out of his songs. He wants originals.
It started out innocently enough when I sang about Farmer Goofy, instead of Old McDonald, after we read a book about Goofy. Little Man got a kick out of that and the next night when we'd finished our Dr. Suess and I launched into a lullaby version of The Farmer in the Dell, he covered my mouth with his hand.
"No, no," he said. "A song about Go, Dog, Go? A song about the mop the mop the mop?"
Since then, Little Man has been testing my improv skills every night. Pulling his favorite bits from his day and his stories, he requests songs about himself, his favorite trains, and the lines from books that make him laugh. I'm usually pretty good at creating them the first time around--but then when he asks me to sing them again and I don't get the words exactly right, he stops and makes me start again. And then the next morning, I hear him singing the songs I made up to himself while he plays.
It's a fun little way to end our way, and apparently it inspires Little Man to make up his own songs, too. The other morning Husband and I caught him singing, to the tune of Jingle Bells:
Jingle bells, jingle bells, choo choo all the way, oh what fun it is to ride in a big steam train!
This was impressive for several reasons: one, I didn't make that song up. Two, I didn't even know he knew Jingle Bells. Three, he managed to make a pretty good rhyme.
Maybe Little Man has a future in music.
Monday, July 1, 2013
A Day Time Poem
It's not nighttime!
It is day!
Mommy! Daddy!
Time to play!
The moon is gone
The stars are too
It's daytime now
What should we do?
Maybe we'll go to some railroad tracks
And watch the trains go clickety-clack.
Watching trains is my favorite way
To spend a sunshiny day.
Maybe we'll visit the zoo today
And watch the animals climb and play.
Of course my favorite thing at the zoo
Is to see the train- there's one there, too!
Or maybe to the aquarium we'll go
To see the fish: red, green and yellow
If we go there, my dearest wish
Is to see the otters and starfish.
Or maybe we'll go to Gymboree
Where I can climb and jump, you see.
We raise the parachute high and low
And search all around for Baby Gymbo.
I really like the bookstore, too
Train table, Legos, there's lots to do
And if I'm very good, you see
I get to take a book home with me!
Some days, we don't get in the car
We stay home to play, don't travel far
I like to paint, and read and zoom
My cars and trains around the room.
And then the sun begins to sink
A good time for a bath, I think
My jammies on, my books are read
It's time to snuggle up in bed.
It's not daytime.
It is night.
Mommy! Daddy!
Snuggle me tight.
The sun is gone
The clouds are, too.
It's nighttime now
Sweet dreams, I love you.
Monday, June 17, 2013
"When I'm a Parent, I'll Never...."
Before you become a parent, you have opinions. You say things like, "Oh, I'm never going to buy ____ for my kid!" and "When I have a baby, I'll never do _______."
Then you have a baby, and you get the whip cream and chocolate syrup out of the fridge, pile it on and EAT YOUR WORDS.
Here are some of the things I was absolutely sure I'd never do as a parent that I sooooo do:
1. Buy "unnecessary" things that make life easier. For example--Boogie Wipes. For those of you out there who aren't parents, Boogie Wipes are like regular wet wipes but for your face. They're made with saline and they don't cause redness when you wipe your kid's nose for the hundreth.time.that.day. Would a regular old tissue work just as well? Probably. But the scaly little red patch that quickly formed under Little Man's nose when he got his first cold broke my heart. Enter the Boogie Wipes.
Another thing I spend money on I swore I never would? Name brand sippie cups. After a week of milk drips souring in the car, I tossed the Target brand and welcomed Tommee Tippee with open arms. In my (almost) three years as a mom I have learned: there are times when the name brand is better.
I drew the line at the wipe warmer, though. Did it make Little Man jump every time a chilly wipe touched his tushie? Sure, but heating wipes seemed like serious excess--not to mention a fire hazard.
2. Use nap time to be a productive human being. I know people that run entire businesses and write novels during naptime, and I was sure I'd be one of them. What do I actually do during naptime? Watch "Charmed" on Netflix and play on Pinterest.
3. Co-sleep. Whoa there, safety patrol! Before you jump all over me, let me point out that we never had a "family bed". Little Man has always started and ended the night in his own bed. But now that he's in the big boy bed, there are nights when he creeps into our room at 2 AM and crawls into bed next to me. And I let him. He falls asleep, all warm and sweet and snuggled up next to me, and I fall asleep too. And then after awhile, he kicks me and I put him back into his own bed.
And some things that I said I would never do and still don't do:
1. Talk baby talk. Sure, when Little Man was tiny I cooed nonsensical words at him. But Husband and I have always talked to him like a real person--no cutesy words for things, no adding unnecessary syllables to words. The result is that Little Man has an excellent vocabulary now that he is talking, and when someone does talk "baby" to him, he looks at them like they are crazy.
2. I don't make him do things he doesn't want to do. Do I encourage him strongly? Absolutely. But if we're at Gymboree and he is uncomfortable doing a group activity, I don't make him. Because all that leads to is a meltdown, which is no fun for him, us or anyone around us. When we visit Disney World, if he suddenly gets shy when we come face to face with a six foot goofy dog, I don't make him get close (instead, Mommy gets to give him a hug. Yay!). Even if we waited in a long line, its not worth the negative experience. On our first trip, we waited for half an hour just so Little Man could wave at Pooh and Tigger from a safe five feet away. Could we have watched them without standing in line? Sure. But Little Man got their attention and waves all to himself for a few moments, and that was a joy. He has a bubble, and we respect it.
3. Let him get away with tantrums in public places. Before I was a parent, there was nothing worse than trying to eat a meal while a kid at another table was screaming. And so I don't subject other people to my kid's moods. If Husband and I are dining out and Little Man reaches the end of his rope, one of us takes him outside. Luckily, we haven't had to do this too many times. But I am definitely the Mom who will leave a full grocery cart and carry my wailing kid out of the store.
Overall, I think I'm doing pretty good.
Then you have a baby, and you get the whip cream and chocolate syrup out of the fridge, pile it on and EAT YOUR WORDS.
Here are some of the things I was absolutely sure I'd never do as a parent that I sooooo do:
1. Buy "unnecessary" things that make life easier. For example--Boogie Wipes. For those of you out there who aren't parents, Boogie Wipes are like regular wet wipes but for your face. They're made with saline and they don't cause redness when you wipe your kid's nose for the hundreth.time.that.day. Would a regular old tissue work just as well? Probably. But the scaly little red patch that quickly formed under Little Man's nose when he got his first cold broke my heart. Enter the Boogie Wipes.
Another thing I spend money on I swore I never would? Name brand sippie cups. After a week of milk drips souring in the car, I tossed the Target brand and welcomed Tommee Tippee with open arms. In my (almost) three years as a mom I have learned: there are times when the name brand is better.
I drew the line at the wipe warmer, though. Did it make Little Man jump every time a chilly wipe touched his tushie? Sure, but heating wipes seemed like serious excess--not to mention a fire hazard.
2. Use nap time to be a productive human being. I know people that run entire businesses and write novels during naptime, and I was sure I'd be one of them. What do I actually do during naptime? Watch "Charmed" on Netflix and play on Pinterest.
3. Co-sleep. Whoa there, safety patrol! Before you jump all over me, let me point out that we never had a "family bed". Little Man has always started and ended the night in his own bed. But now that he's in the big boy bed, there are nights when he creeps into our room at 2 AM and crawls into bed next to me. And I let him. He falls asleep, all warm and sweet and snuggled up next to me, and I fall asleep too. And then after awhile, he kicks me and I put him back into his own bed.
And some things that I said I would never do and still don't do:
1. Talk baby talk. Sure, when Little Man was tiny I cooed nonsensical words at him. But Husband and I have always talked to him like a real person--no cutesy words for things, no adding unnecessary syllables to words. The result is that Little Man has an excellent vocabulary now that he is talking, and when someone does talk "baby" to him, he looks at them like they are crazy.
2. I don't make him do things he doesn't want to do. Do I encourage him strongly? Absolutely. But if we're at Gymboree and he is uncomfortable doing a group activity, I don't make him. Because all that leads to is a meltdown, which is no fun for him, us or anyone around us. When we visit Disney World, if he suddenly gets shy when we come face to face with a six foot goofy dog, I don't make him get close (instead, Mommy gets to give him a hug. Yay!). Even if we waited in a long line, its not worth the negative experience. On our first trip, we waited for half an hour just so Little Man could wave at Pooh and Tigger from a safe five feet away. Could we have watched them without standing in line? Sure. But Little Man got their attention and waves all to himself for a few moments, and that was a joy. He has a bubble, and we respect it.
3. Let him get away with tantrums in public places. Before I was a parent, there was nothing worse than trying to eat a meal while a kid at another table was screaming. And so I don't subject other people to my kid's moods. If Husband and I are dining out and Little Man reaches the end of his rope, one of us takes him outside. Luckily, we haven't had to do this too many times. But I am definitely the Mom who will leave a full grocery cart and carry my wailing kid out of the store.
Overall, I think I'm doing pretty good.
Monday, June 10, 2013
The Building Blocks of Boys
I mentioned this winter than Little Man was into Legos. Since I wrote that post in January, our Lego collection has grown significantly. Little Man and his Dad spend hours creating and building, while I watch and pray silently that nothing falls apart while Husband is at work--because there is no way I'll be able to put them back together.
When left on his own with his Legos, Little Man creates. A few months ago, he brougt me this:
"Mom mom, this a house," he told me. "A house for pee-pwels!" A house for people.
He then spent twenty minutes moving his little plastic Pooh Bear in and out of the door.
Playing with Pooh Bear gave him an idea.
"Mom mom build a Pooh Sticks Bridge?" He asked me. "Pooh Ba wants to play."
If I do say so myself, my Pooh Sticks Bridge turned out pretty well. Little Man was so tickled with the "sticks" (cut up straws) that he has requested the bridge several times since. Now he helps me put it together, adding the blue water for "the sticks to make a big SPWASH" in.
Occasionally Mickey or a farm animal joins Pooh in a rousing game of Pooh sticks.
And then there's the days when Little Man sits at his table in his bedroom, building tall towers--always color coordinated. One day I heard him giving directions to Christmas Bear, one of the toys he sleeps with.
"This is big red towa!" Little Man told him. "Build it like this. What color you build?"
Before I knew it, Little Man had all his favorite toys propped up on his table so he could show them how to build tall towers. He held their little hands and together, he and Scout and Christmas Bear and his fuzzy Pooh built towers togeter.
As I watched him playing, I realized he was having the boy version of a tea party with his toys. Little girls drink tea with their dolls, little boys build tall towers (and then knock them over) with theirs.
I think I'm finally getting this raising a boy thing down.
When left on his own with his Legos, Little Man creates. A few months ago, he brougt me this:
"Mom mom, this a house," he told me. "A house for pee-pwels!" A house for people.
He then spent twenty minutes moving his little plastic Pooh Bear in and out of the door.
Playing with Pooh Bear gave him an idea.
"Mom mom build a Pooh Sticks Bridge?" He asked me. "Pooh Ba wants to play."
If I do say so myself, my Pooh Sticks Bridge turned out pretty well. Little Man was so tickled with the "sticks" (cut up straws) that he has requested the bridge several times since. Now he helps me put it together, adding the blue water for "the sticks to make a big SPWASH" in.
Occasionally Mickey or a farm animal joins Pooh in a rousing game of Pooh sticks.
And then there's the days when Little Man sits at his table in his bedroom, building tall towers--always color coordinated. One day I heard him giving directions to Christmas Bear, one of the toys he sleeps with.
"This is big red towa!" Little Man told him. "Build it like this. What color you build?"
Before I knew it, Little Man had all his favorite toys propped up on his table so he could show them how to build tall towers. He held their little hands and together, he and Scout and Christmas Bear and his fuzzy Pooh built towers togeter.
As I watched him playing, I realized he was having the boy version of a tea party with his toys. Little girls drink tea with their dolls, little boys build tall towers (and then knock them over) with theirs.
I think I'm finally getting this raising a boy thing down.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
From Son Up to Son Down
I saw a great quote the other day: "Mothers of boys are active from son up to son down". I can attest that this is absolutely true--Little Man woke me up at 6:30 this morning (we still haven't taught him about weekends) with a pat on the face--"Mom mom! You waking up? It's time to eat and play trains!"--and he is now sound asleep. On the floor in his bedroom doorway, where he passed out about half an hour ago. We are learning the art of putting ourselves to sleep, and it takes a lot of practice.
Being active from son up to son down means that there isn't often a lot of time left in the day for anything--like blogging. In fact, I was considering wrapping this blog up. After all, I started it when I was pregnant and Little Man will be 3 soon. 3. 3! Can you believe it?
But then I started reading over the older posts, from when he was just a little stink. And I was reminded of things I had forgotten about--and probably would have forgotten about forever had I not recorded them in this blog.
And so I'm going to keep this blog going. After all, it is the story of my little family. And Little Man has never been more fun to be around. As he approaches that third birthday, he is full of words and questions and an extreme love of trains that I think will be around forever.
So the next few weeks will be filled with some catch up posts about our life with Little Man. I can't wait to share all the things we have been up to! Stay tuned, and don't forget: happily ever after is never the end. The fairy tale continues...
Being active from son up to son down means that there isn't often a lot of time left in the day for anything--like blogging. In fact, I was considering wrapping this blog up. After all, I started it when I was pregnant and Little Man will be 3 soon. 3. 3! Can you believe it?
But then I started reading over the older posts, from when he was just a little stink. And I was reminded of things I had forgotten about--and probably would have forgotten about forever had I not recorded them in this blog.
And so I'm going to keep this blog going. After all, it is the story of my little family. And Little Man has never been more fun to be around. As he approaches that third birthday, he is full of words and questions and an extreme love of trains that I think will be around forever.
So the next few weeks will be filled with some catch up posts about our life with Little Man. I can't wait to share all the things we have been up to! Stay tuned, and don't forget: happily ever after is never the end. The fairy tale continues...
Monday, January 21, 2013
Two and A Half
Two and a half is a special age.
I've been a little emotional about two and a half. Because since July, when he hit the big 2, my Little Man has blossomed. The words we waited so long for him to say arrived, and now flow-eth freely from his mouth. He repeats EVERYTHING that he hears. This is both hysterical and terrifying. He apparently has been listening to us very carefully his whole life, because now that he has words, songs we've sung and books we've read are being repeated by him in earnest. Every day I hear him sing a new song or "read" a book out loud and I amazed by what he has remembered.
"Dada read a book?" he greeted Husband this week when he came in the door after work. We're still working on hard consonants so it sounds like "Dada ree a bo?"
Husband and Little Man settled down on the couch with "The Little Red Caboose" and before Husband could start, Little Man launched into the story. He repeated it almost verbatim, turning the pages at the correct times and pausing to let Husband enjoy the parts of the story he himself likes the most.
"And the lil red ca-boo saved the choo choo," he concluded, closing the book. Husband and I applauded.
I had bought him the book two days ago.
Two weeks ago he counted to 10 randomly in the back seat of the car. Now he places his numbered lego blocks on his lego train in the correct order. If I remove a number, he informs me it is missing and then moves on to the next one.
The other day while I was washing dishes he busted out "twinkle twinkle little star", complete with hand motions.
He says, "woops!" when he makes a mistake and cracks me up, especially when its followed by a wide-eyed look and a covering of his mouth in shock.
He refers to himself in the third person as "baby" and uses it to tell me about things that are his: "that baby's choo choo. That baby's car." I especially enjoy when I hear, "Baby do it himself!" We're getting that phrase with more and more frequency.
Much of his talking is about--you guessed it--trains. There is much discussion about steam trains, locomotives, train tracks and round houses. When he went to the doctor for his well check up, he informed her that "steam is hot water, and it makes the choo choo's go."
"You guys," she said to Husband and I. "A 2-year-old explaining a combustion engine is not normal."
He is still a big boy, stretching out of his 5T pants already. He is still a picky eater, preferring his banana and greens to be mashed up. And he's still a whirlwind--only now when he's destructive, he comes to tell me.
"Baby make an enormous mess!" he said to me earlier today, stretching out his hands to make sure I understood the scope of the mess he'd managed to create in the 2 minute scope of time I'd been in the bathroom.
Ah, two and a half.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Mom's Learning Block
Lego block, that is.
I have discovered a serious learning disability I have. It surprised me, since I'm a pretty creative person. I write, I create, I scrapbook. I have a very vivid imagination.
But I can't build with Legos.
Little Man is way into Duplo blocks--the bigger, chunkier version of the tiny building blocks. He likes to build "tall towas" (tall towers) and "hosses" (houses). So to encourage this behavior, Husband and I purchased him several Duplo theme sets--a racecar set, a farm set--along with a couple of real Lego sets we build with him.
Only I can't do it.
I have to think really hard about it. I have to study the instructions to put each of the itty bitty projects together. I can't have any interruptions or distractions. So, you know, doing it with a two-year-old is a total breeze.
So far I've built a tiny dragon, a Harry Potter potions chest, and a fire truck. The fire truck almost did me in. I was following the directions just so, when on the third step, they just stopped.
"This set is defective," I told Husband. "The directions stopped, but I just have the base of the fire truck."
"You're supposed to use your imagination. It's open ended," Husband replied with a raised eyebrow.
I freaked out. "But how am I supposed to know I'm doing it right?"
"There's no right way. That's the point."
Hurumph. I like doing things the right way. However, I do realize this is not the point of building with Legos. Don't worry...I'm not the mom who corrects her kid when his Lego house looks like a Picasso creation. I encourage him to make more. I love his buildings. I take pitures of them and send them to my family.
I just can't seem to do it myself.
I eventually finished the fire truck. I was exhausted afterwards. And I was very relieved when Little Man wandered by and said, "Ooo! Fire truck! Wee-ooo-wee-ooo-wee-ooo!"
I think life was easier when it was all banging sticks against trees.
I have discovered a serious learning disability I have. It surprised me, since I'm a pretty creative person. I write, I create, I scrapbook. I have a very vivid imagination.
But I can't build with Legos.
Little Man is way into Duplo blocks--the bigger, chunkier version of the tiny building blocks. He likes to build "tall towas" (tall towers) and "hosses" (houses). So to encourage this behavior, Husband and I purchased him several Duplo theme sets--a racecar set, a farm set--along with a couple of real Lego sets we build with him.
Only I can't do it.
I have to think really hard about it. I have to study the instructions to put each of the itty bitty projects together. I can't have any interruptions or distractions. So, you know, doing it with a two-year-old is a total breeze.
So far I've built a tiny dragon, a Harry Potter potions chest, and a fire truck. The fire truck almost did me in. I was following the directions just so, when on the third step, they just stopped.
"This set is defective," I told Husband. "The directions stopped, but I just have the base of the fire truck."
"You're supposed to use your imagination. It's open ended," Husband replied with a raised eyebrow.
I freaked out. "But how am I supposed to know I'm doing it right?"
"There's no right way. That's the point."
Hurumph. I like doing things the right way. However, I do realize this is not the point of building with Legos. Don't worry...I'm not the mom who corrects her kid when his Lego house looks like a Picasso creation. I encourage him to make more. I love his buildings. I take pitures of them and send them to my family.
I just can't seem to do it myself.
I eventually finished the fire truck. I was exhausted afterwards. And I was very relieved when Little Man wandered by and said, "Ooo! Fire truck! Wee-ooo-wee-ooo-wee-ooo!"
I think life was easier when it was all banging sticks against trees.
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