Decade

This weekend is John and my 10-year wedding anniversary. A decade. And I couldn't have asked for anything more in those 10 years. Every year I have a companion who is more and more the person I love the most and the one who loves me most. Not only have we learned more about each other over the years, we still really like each other in spite of that. Smile. No, seriously, I feel so blessed to have someone who loves me in all my weakness (and strength). John inspires me to the be the best version of myself, although I'm still not converted to a morning person. (Sorry, hon.)

We are going away this weekend on a mini-break, leaving Baby Z behind with grandparents. I'm so excited to have so much time with John without distractions. I'm also very excited about eating meals at a leisurely pace and not thinking about getting home by the next nap time. We are going to go surfing, rent bicycles, eat well and take naps. All of this with my favorite person in the whole world.

Diaper Duty

I'm reading James Dobson's book "Bringing Up Boys," and in it he says his father once said about an energetic toddler, "If you let that kid get bored, you deserve what he's going to do to you." Here is an example of a slightly unsupervised toddler finding his own entertainment.

Yesterday, after I dropped a baking dish with two pieces of salmon and splattered teriyaki sauce ALL over the kitchen, John and I finally settled down to a nice meal (salvaged smushed salmon off the floor). We were letting Baby Z play because he already had to sit in his high chair through the clean up process. Anyway, things were suddenly very quiet. Uh oh. Here is what we found:

Proud of himself


Slightly chagrined?


The best part is Baby Z actually started to put the diapers back into the cabinet. It was very sweet. He is all about imitating his parents actions right now. And I think I may have deciphered a new phrase of his: "buddy dup." I think he might be saying, "Put it up!" Hee hee. Guess he hears that a lot?

Splash Splash

We started Baby Z in swim lessons a few weeks ago. It's a Parent and Me class with a maximum of 5-6 kids in a class. We heard great things about the school so we started out with lots of optimism. When we visited there were kids in the class diving for rings at 2 years old.

Although I knew Baby Z was going to be a little nervous and I expected some crying, I didn't expect crying for pretty much the entire lesson for two lessons in a row. I also didn't expect a children's swim instructor to be so visibly disturbed by the crying. Bless her heart, she tried, but she was obviously very uncomfortable which didn't make parent or child any more comfortable. Anyway, as much as I felt uneasy about the whole situation, I was willing to keep at it, thinking that it would get better with time.

By the third lesson, we had changed our strategy. I would no longer attend the lessons and it would be just John and the little dude. (This is after the instructor very politely asked me to leave at the previous lesson because Baby Z kept saying his magic word that usually gets him what he wants: Mama.) By the providence of God, our usual instructor wasn't there and one of the managers was teaching the session. Also providentially, no other kids showed up so it was basically a private lesson!

The new instructor was obviously more experienced (this is all based on reports from John since I wasn't there. Ahem.), and after hearing of the tearful previous lessons he said that they would take it slow and just work on getting Baby Z comfortable. It took some time and effort but slowly Baby Z started to relax and have fun. My husband is exceptional at having fun and he worked really hard to get Baby Z to loosen up. They eventually did all of the same activities for learning, but this time Baby Z was mostly willing to try and was not screaming.

At one point they put the kids on a gigantic whale kick-board kind of thing and have the kids splash and blow bubbles and such. The instructor and my husband were going at it like it was the most fabulous thing on earth to be doing. Then when they asked Baby Z to do it, he politely shook his head, No. Again they tried with all of their persuasive power to show Baby Z how FUN it was. Polite shake of the head, No. The instructor turned to John and said, "Wow." John replied that he didn't think Baby Z was highly susceptible to peer pressure. :)

So we are all excited to practice our swimming this summer; thankfully, my Mom has a pool, so that's helpful and fun. Already I can see how much more comfortable Baby Z is in the water. He's holding his breath pretty well and was willing to step off the ledge of the jacuzzi to come to me yesterday. Yeah! Hurrah for patient daddies and good swim instructors!

Fathers

In honor of my father who started the tradition, I post a picture of me as the Tickle Monster with Baby Z.


And in thanks to my husband who is a fantastic father for Baby Z: you are everything Baby Z and I need- reliable and fun, manly and gentle, brave and patient. We love you!

Thank you for giving Baby Z a cool gene that comes through even when I dress him like a super-dork:


And thank you for giving Baby Z a sense of humor and an appreciation for the finer things in life:

Book Gluttony

Anyone who knows me knows I love books. Since becoming a Mom, one of the fringe benefits is more time to read than when I was working full-time. When Baby Z goes down for his afternoon nap, I get some me time to read and nap. When I have a good book, I don't nap.

So, a friend just pointed me to this web site literature-map.com. You type in an author you like and it gives you a map of similar authors. For book-lovers, this could be hours of endless entertainment.

Now that summer's here, go read a book! And if you read a good one, post me a comment. I'm always looking for recommendations.

Mini Me

Toddlers love to imitate their parents (so I just read in some parenting magazine). Sure enough, Baby Z has jumped on the bandwagon. He has tried to slide his dainty foot into my high-heeled sandal. He loves to put his sippy cup in the cupboard as if it were the fridge. He hovered around my husband this weekend watching him change the drain in our bathroom and listened in rapt silence while John explained how to use a screwdriver.
And this morning, a sign he may inherit my love of coffee:

Bleary-eyed pre-coffee

Sipping the sweet nectar

Bzzzz

Boredom to Bliss

What is it about parenting that can take you through cycles of extremes in short periods of time. One minute the whispered "ma ma" is the sweetest sound you've ever heard. The next minute, a screeched "MA MA," repeated 18 times in one minute, makes you wish your child had not yet learned that word. Or, you are so tired of pulling that chubby little hand away from no-no objects and then that hand grabs on to your pinky finger and pulls you to see something very special to him (like the step stool your child moved next to the door so he can now reach the key in the lock. uh oh). Or perhaps your back is breaking from holding your 27-pound child for 20 minutes because every time you put him down he won't hold your hand in the store. Then you pull your melty-warm sleeping child out of his car seat, his head nestles into your neck and you think you could hold him like that until your arms fell off.

A lot of the time it is just a matter of perspective. Do I take the time to notice the beautiful moments, like his bitty toes peaking out from under a blanket? Or do I focus on how many times I've cleaned up the Baby Z flotsam scattered all over the house? So here's to snapping the camera in your mind the next time your child gives you that look. No, not the am-I-going-to-get-away-with-it look; I'm talking about that look that says you are the most important person in his life, and not just because you feed him.

Hitting Update

After my last post, Baby Z's hitting got worse and then better. There were two days or so of consistent testing, using all kinds of hitting from the curiosity whack to the defiant smack. Consistent No's and, in the case of outright defiance, more escalated discipline seemed to do the trick. Not that Baby Z is "cured" of ever hitting again, but it seems like any other discipline matter, where if you stay on top of it, it gets better. Just like teaching Baby Z to not touch the TV. There was a week or so of A LOT of No's and hand thumps and then he stopped trying so much. Now, he still does go for it occasionally, but as soon as I say no, he usually stops.

It was definitely challenging there for a few days. It was hard to really see how sinful we are as people, even from the beginning. Something about the very visible sign of hitting (especially when it was defiant) was really hard to see in my little baby. Of course, some of it was the social stigma- that I would be that Mom with that kid on the playground, or in the nursery, or whatever. I had to remind myself that, just like us adults- we sin, but the sign of a Christian is how you deal with it. Repenting of our sin and asking for forgiveness is what God expects of us. I need to show Baby Z that same pattern of recognizing wrong, turning away from it and enjoying the restoration that comes with forgiveness. For now, this all happens in very simplified toddler terms, but it won't be long before Baby Z will understand every aspect of our discipline. And he'll see a small, admittedly imperfect, example of God's immense patience and forgiveness for His children.