Baby Z is certainly developing. He can throw a ball. Really well. He can also throw a sippy cup, a book, a block, a toy truck. Sometimes he even has good aim and it's not clear whether he's throwing it to you or at you.
It appears that the close cousin to the throwing skill is the hitting skill. Same swing of that arm and whack! Another noise almost as good as a wooden block denting a hardwood floor. And the hitting game gets a great reaction out of Mom.
So, if I had any doubt before, it's very clear now that I have a toddler. From the more agile (slippery) movement to the assertive independence. Oh, and let's not forget the displays of emotion. Baby Z's favorite is a run towards a wall or door, throwing his hands against the wall and resting his head against it to cry. This happens when he's frustrated or upset; perhaps he didn't get to play with Mommy's keys or Mommy didn't give him food in the 0.02 seconds he demands.
In adapting to this change, I'm progressing through the stages of grief. I believe I'm past the shock and denial stage. You know, when you're convinced the hitting was a well-meant, poorly-executed attempt at affection. I might be past the anger stage, although I'm still tending to search in my memory for the other kid (and, therefore, ineffectual parent) who "taught" Baby Z how to hit. Most of the time, I know that's silly. I don't think any child has to "learn" how to hit; they will find this outlet to their anger or frustration quite naturally. So, what's next? Bargaining? Depression? Acceptance? I don't know, I think I'm cycling through these regularly. Currently (as in, at this precise moment), I'm in a phase of acceptance, where I'm trying to figure out how to handle things.
So, here it goes. After a little reading, I was reminded to think about the root of the action, not just the action itself. Throwing things is fun and gives Baby Z an opportunity to affect the world around him. He just needs to learn when throwing is appropriate and when it is not. Hitting can sometimes come from frustration or anger, but it can also come from a desire to connect with another person. I just saw this today at music class, when Baby Z raised his arm to hit a little girl who he had previously interacted with in a delightful manner. There was no anger in his face, just this random whack. (Thankfully, his aim isn't that good and he missed.) Now I can see that he was trying to say hello, or play with me or, maybe, can I touch your hair? So, my strategy will be a firm, No, along with a redirection of an appropriate way to interact. This is a good start for the frustration/anger hit, also, although the discipline will need to escalate if he continues after being told No.
Gah! I can't believe we're already at this stage! (There's the denial again. Uh oh.) I'm trying to remember that this is one more change in a long series of many, many changes. It's a good reminder of how much I need God's help to be patient and wise as a Mom. Change is hard, but it's also good because it makes you learn and grow. I wonder what this stage of parental development is called. The "Now I Know Enough to Know I Really Don't Know" stage?
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Monday, May 19, 2008
One Year One Half
In honor of Baby Z turning 18 months today, I'll post a few pics and video.
Baby Z has already learned one of the many merits of surf wax:
Today at the park. Dorky outfit, but Baby Z can pull it off:
Baby Book Record - May 19th, 2008 - 18 months old
Baby Z's Favorites:
Food: mashed potatoes, dried fruit (bananas, strawberries, cranberries), bread.
Toys: Mama's keys, the phone (he holds his hand to his ear and says "Hi!"), balls.
Activities: opening Papa's drawer (which he's not supposed to get into), turning on lights or even watching others turn on lights, dancing.
Recent Firsts:
Skinned knee worthy of a band-aid. Unfortunately, some cute but impractical shoes caused a few nasty falls and since then he's re-skinned the same knee 3 times. It's so sad. But I know it's the first of so many.
Current Words:
Dada, Mama, Mimi (I want something), Diggy-diggy (dog), Dodeedo (dog and any animal), awl boom (all done), Hi (sounds like Eye), Bye bye, Up
Recently Learned Signs:
Change (as in change my diaper), Help (which is a hard one so he mostly twists his hands together in the same, funny way when I say help).
Schedule:
Hallelujah! Still two naps. Morning from 10:30am to 12:15pm or so. Afternoons from 4pm to 5:30 or 6pm.
Baby Z has already learned one of the many merits of surf wax:
Today at the park. Dorky outfit, but Baby Z can pull it off:
Baby Book Record - May 19th, 2008 - 18 months old
Baby Z's Favorites:
Food: mashed potatoes, dried fruit (bananas, strawberries, cranberries), bread.
Toys: Mama's keys, the phone (he holds his hand to his ear and says "Hi!"), balls.
Activities: opening Papa's drawer (which he's not supposed to get into), turning on lights or even watching others turn on lights, dancing.
Recent Firsts:
Skinned knee worthy of a band-aid. Unfortunately, some cute but impractical shoes caused a few nasty falls and since then he's re-skinned the same knee 3 times. It's so sad. But I know it's the first of so many.
Current Words:
Dada, Mama, Mimi (I want something), Diggy-diggy (dog), Dodeedo (dog and any animal), awl boom (all done), Hi (sounds like Eye), Bye bye, Up
Recently Learned Signs:
Change (as in change my diaper), Help (which is a hard one so he mostly twists his hands together in the same, funny way when I say help).
Schedule:
Hallelujah! Still two naps. Morning from 10:30am to 12:15pm or so. Afternoons from 4pm to 5:30 or 6pm.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
The Land of the Free
Today, for the first time ever I paid for childcare. Lest you are new to this blog and think I am a Mom who simply does not go out, let me be clear. We've gone out! We've gone on dates, overnighters and even an out-of-state weekend getaway. The fact that we have not yet procured "professional" services is a testament to the generous friends and family in our lives who have so often watched our little dude for us. I cannot thank them enough for their thoughtfulness. They have all helped John and my marriage stay healthy despite our adorable attention-sucker.
Today, after placing thirty dollars in the hands of a 21-year old and saying bye as she walked to her car, I felt like I had discovered a new world. In this new world I can do two to three hours of work uninterrupted. I can schedule a doctor appointment. I can get my hair done or go shopping. I can't believe I waited this long to explore this frontier.
Like any voyage to uncharted territory, mine was not without toil and fear. I was forced to leave my land of comfort (bumming childcare off a list of friends and family, spreading out who I asked and hoping I wasn't asking too much) because of work. My boss asked if I could attend a meeting to roll out a new project. I agreed to try and see if I could do it for a month or so until someone else could get up to speed and take over. I asked around for referrals, hit a few dead-ends and unnecessarily stressed about calling strangers. After I finally got in touch with a babysitter who could do it, I was so relieved.
However, once the babysitter was booked, I had to talk myself into the fact that I was letting a total stranger take my child. Yes, I had referrals (lots of excellent ones). Yes, she was only taking Baby Z to the park near our house so I could work at home. Yes, it was only 2-3 hours. Still. I was nervous. I didn't sleep very well last night. I tried not to think about it, but my anxious thoughts expelled their energy by grinding my teeth into each other all night.
Now that the voyage is over and I've seen the beautiful promised land, I am mentally running free in a meadow of waving grass. I'm turning in circles, arms outstretched, reveling in the freedom and beauty of opportunity. Opportunity and options. If that 21-year old knew the gift she gave me today, she would definitely charge more.
Today, after placing thirty dollars in the hands of a 21-year old and saying bye as she walked to her car, I felt like I had discovered a new world. In this new world I can do two to three hours of work uninterrupted. I can schedule a doctor appointment. I can get my hair done or go shopping. I can't believe I waited this long to explore this frontier.
Like any voyage to uncharted territory, mine was not without toil and fear. I was forced to leave my land of comfort (bumming childcare off a list of friends and family, spreading out who I asked and hoping I wasn't asking too much) because of work. My boss asked if I could attend a meeting to roll out a new project. I agreed to try and see if I could do it for a month or so until someone else could get up to speed and take over. I asked around for referrals, hit a few dead-ends and unnecessarily stressed about calling strangers. After I finally got in touch with a babysitter who could do it, I was so relieved.
However, once the babysitter was booked, I had to talk myself into the fact that I was letting a total stranger take my child. Yes, I had referrals (lots of excellent ones). Yes, she was only taking Baby Z to the park near our house so I could work at home. Yes, it was only 2-3 hours. Still. I was nervous. I didn't sleep very well last night. I tried not to think about it, but my anxious thoughts expelled their energy by grinding my teeth into each other all night.
Now that the voyage is over and I've seen the beautiful promised land, I am mentally running free in a meadow of waving grass. I'm turning in circles, arms outstretched, reveling in the freedom and beauty of opportunity. Opportunity and options. If that 21-year old knew the gift she gave me today, she would definitely charge more.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Baby Z's Special Gift
Since my Precursor to Potty Training post, Baby Z's Houdini talents of getting out of his diaper have improved. After the first incident, he took off his diaper during a nap two more times after he had done a nice little Number Two.
The second incident is probably my grossest moment as a Mom, although I'm sure there are more to come. I should have know when I could smell the poo from the kitchen. When I opened the door, there was Baby Z au naturale from the waist down. Diaper? Plopped down on one side of the crib. Poo? Neatly discarded on the other side. In a CSI-worthy recreation of events, I believe he removed the offending diaper thus spilling its contents into the crib. After discarding the soggy Huggy, he proceeded to neatly pick up the pieces of poop and remove them one by one. This is exactly what he does with food he doesn't like- accurately pincering each piece and tossing them over the side of his tray. After what was probably a good fifteen minutes of work, each piece of poo, including the broken crumbly pieces, was on the floor. Baby Z celebrated this accomplishment with a little victory pee through the slats of the crib. The splatter pattern showed there was likely some play involved (perhaps he was trying to draw his initials).
When I got over my shock and realized Baby Z was putting his now dry-poo crusty fingers in his mouth, I grabbed an old towel, covered him and gingerly lifted him out of the crib and into the tub. We scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed some more and I tell you that Poo is more tenacious than garlic when it gets on your hands. I used a brush and wash cloth. I clipped his finger nails and rubbed the wash cloth under them. Still, it wasn't until the next day that I couldn't smell poo on his hands. Perhaps someone can recommend a poo-removing soap (kind of like Nature's Miracle for pets, but for kids?).
Well, so what is a Mom to do? After a quick google search, I found some good options. The first is to put him to sleep in a onesie, pajamas or overalls. You can also try putting the diaper on backwards. When the kid figures that out, you move on to duct tape. Or perhaps a combination of devices worthy of Houdini himself: the duct tape, the onesie, then overalls, then a heavy chain with rusty old locks?.
I thought I was doing fine with just the onesie approach until this weekend:
Guess that onesie had a little too much play in it. Baby Z just pulled the diaper out from underneath it. Zoolander would be impressed. Well, I may have to move on to the duct tape sooner than I thought. At least I can get it in a color-coordinating white.
The second incident is probably my grossest moment as a Mom, although I'm sure there are more to come. I should have know when I could smell the poo from the kitchen. When I opened the door, there was Baby Z au naturale from the waist down. Diaper? Plopped down on one side of the crib. Poo? Neatly discarded on the other side. In a CSI-worthy recreation of events, I believe he removed the offending diaper thus spilling its contents into the crib. After discarding the soggy Huggy, he proceeded to neatly pick up the pieces of poop and remove them one by one. This is exactly what he does with food he doesn't like- accurately pincering each piece and tossing them over the side of his tray. After what was probably a good fifteen minutes of work, each piece of poo, including the broken crumbly pieces, was on the floor. Baby Z celebrated this accomplishment with a little victory pee through the slats of the crib. The splatter pattern showed there was likely some play involved (perhaps he was trying to draw his initials).
When I got over my shock and realized Baby Z was putting his now dry-poo crusty fingers in his mouth, I grabbed an old towel, covered him and gingerly lifted him out of the crib and into the tub. We scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed some more and I tell you that Poo is more tenacious than garlic when it gets on your hands. I used a brush and wash cloth. I clipped his finger nails and rubbed the wash cloth under them. Still, it wasn't until the next day that I couldn't smell poo on his hands. Perhaps someone can recommend a poo-removing soap (kind of like Nature's Miracle for pets, but for kids?).
Well, so what is a Mom to do? After a quick google search, I found some good options. The first is to put him to sleep in a onesie, pajamas or overalls. You can also try putting the diaper on backwards. When the kid figures that out, you move on to duct tape. Or perhaps a combination of devices worthy of Houdini himself: the duct tape, the onesie, then overalls, then a heavy chain with rusty old locks?.
I thought I was doing fine with just the onesie approach until this weekend:
Guess that onesie had a little too much play in it. Baby Z just pulled the diaper out from underneath it. Zoolander would be impressed. Well, I may have to move on to the duct tape sooner than I thought. At least I can get it in a color-coordinating white.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Marching to a Different Beat
Baby Z and I started a toddler music class today. You know-- lots of Moms and kids dancing around in a circle with colorful tambourines or scarves. I signed us up because Baby Z really loves music. When he hears it, he dances. When he doesn't hear it, he points to the location of the stereo and dances. He already has quite a reportoire of dance moves including the bounce, swinging his arms and upper body back and forth, and my personal favorite, the feet shuffle, which looks like a city boy's version of clogging.
All that to say that I was sure Baby Z would love whatever happened at his new class with music. Well, I think he liked it all right, but he liked a ride-on toddler car that someone brought a lot more. While all the other kids are dancing in the circle, presumably having the time of their little lives, Baby Z is sitting in the car, pushing the stick-on console buttons and pretending to turn the key in the ignition. There are two things I learned from this experience: 1. I am growing as a Mom; 2. my son is a lot like my husband.
First, I'm growing as a Mom because I only barely had the urge to force my child to conform to the dancing circle norm. I thought briefly about whether we were offending the teacher or whether other Mom's would think I was the one with the rowdy kid. But, praise God, I quickly remembered our goal was to get out of the house, try something new and have fun. Check. Check. Check. Mission accomplished. So, Baby Z had a great time! (And the teacher asked the owner of the push car to leave it outside next week. Fair enough.)
Second, seeing my son wander off to explore something interesting, not caring a fig what others are doing, was like looking at a mini John. Friends joke that John has ADD; in reality, he's a Seven (see Enneagram personality types). He's the Adventurer, who loves to try new things and has a hard time committing to one thing. Although I'm wary to project either of our personality types on Baby Z, I can't help but notice strong similarities. When I see me (Five, the Observer, by the way), I think, Okay, I'll be able to understand and help a 5 Baby Z. When I see John, I think, Oh no, he's going to get in so much trouble in school. I know. I'm not being fair. Everyone has so many different facets to their personality and there are a lot of fantastic things about 7's (Auntie S knows). And John will be able to understand and help a 7 Baby Z.
Anyway, if I've learned anything as a Mom, it's that your child will not always do or be what you expect. So, I'll just have to wait and see who Baby Z is and enjoy getting to know him better as we go along. As for music class, we'll go again next week and see what else Baby Z explores. (Hopefully not another Mom's purse.)
All that to say that I was sure Baby Z would love whatever happened at his new class with music. Well, I think he liked it all right, but he liked a ride-on toddler car that someone brought a lot more. While all the other kids are dancing in the circle, presumably having the time of their little lives, Baby Z is sitting in the car, pushing the stick-on console buttons and pretending to turn the key in the ignition. There are two things I learned from this experience: 1. I am growing as a Mom; 2. my son is a lot like my husband.
First, I'm growing as a Mom because I only barely had the urge to force my child to conform to the dancing circle norm. I thought briefly about whether we were offending the teacher or whether other Mom's would think I was the one with the rowdy kid. But, praise God, I quickly remembered our goal was to get out of the house, try something new and have fun. Check. Check. Check. Mission accomplished. So, Baby Z had a great time! (And the teacher asked the owner of the push car to leave it outside next week. Fair enough.)
Second, seeing my son wander off to explore something interesting, not caring a fig what others are doing, was like looking at a mini John. Friends joke that John has ADD; in reality, he's a Seven (see Enneagram personality types). He's the Adventurer, who loves to try new things and has a hard time committing to one thing. Although I'm wary to project either of our personality types on Baby Z, I can't help but notice strong similarities. When I see me (Five, the Observer, by the way), I think, Okay, I'll be able to understand and help a 5 Baby Z. When I see John, I think, Oh no, he's going to get in so much trouble in school. I know. I'm not being fair. Everyone has so many different facets to their personality and there are a lot of fantastic things about 7's (Auntie S knows). And John will be able to understand and help a 7 Baby Z.
Anyway, if I've learned anything as a Mom, it's that your child will not always do or be what you expect. So, I'll just have to wait and see who Baby Z is and enjoy getting to know him better as we go along. As for music class, we'll go again next week and see what else Baby Z explores. (Hopefully not another Mom's purse.)
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Strength in the Mundane
I have to confess I've had kind of a bad attitude in the last few days. I'm feeling bored and discontent. Baby Z has been frustrating (partly because of a minor cold and canine teeth coming in, I think). Yesterday he was so tired but didn't sleep at all during his afternoon nap. He's been whiny and finicky when eating, intentionally throwing food on the floor. I feel like if I have to clean up the floor one more time, I might scream.
A verse came to mind this morning: "I can do everything through him who gives me strength." (Phillipians 4:13) Usually I think of this verse in times of stress: exams at school, deadlines at work, sickness in the family, troubled relationships. Today, I thought about my day and what "challenges" I would be facing. And I realized that God would give me strength even in the mundane: the fixing food (again!), the laundry, the sweeping, the wiping up, the changing diapers, the saying "no" for the 2034th time. And God will give me the strength to do more than just endure. He'll give me the love and attitude of service that He commands.
A friend at MOPS shared with us all about what it says in 1 Corinthians 13: "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing." Her words have stuck with me. Love is what makes me a mother and a wife. Without love, I'm just a floor-mopper, meal-fixer, space-taker in our home. It is up to me to make our home full of love and service. I know I don't succeed at it every day, but at least I know it's God strength, not mine, that is going to make it happen. And I guess the next time I wipe up the floor around Baby Z's highchair, I'll already be in position to pray for more strength.
A verse came to mind this morning: "I can do everything through him who gives me strength." (Phillipians 4:13) Usually I think of this verse in times of stress: exams at school, deadlines at work, sickness in the family, troubled relationships. Today, I thought about my day and what "challenges" I would be facing. And I realized that God would give me strength even in the mundane: the fixing food (again!), the laundry, the sweeping, the wiping up, the changing diapers, the saying "no" for the 2034th time. And God will give me the strength to do more than just endure. He'll give me the love and attitude of service that He commands.
A friend at MOPS shared with us all about what it says in 1 Corinthians 13: "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing." Her words have stuck with me. Love is what makes me a mother and a wife. Without love, I'm just a floor-mopper, meal-fixer, space-taker in our home. It is up to me to make our home full of love and service. I know I don't succeed at it every day, but at least I know it's God strength, not mine, that is going to make it happen. And I guess the next time I wipe up the floor around Baby Z's highchair, I'll already be in position to pray for more strength.
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