Deep thoughts from the innocence bubble

It was a rainy Tuesday afternoon, and I was picking up my 3 1/2-year-old son from daycare. He got excited as soon as I walked in the room -- maybe because he was seeing me, maybe because he was now free to run about the building and break the rules; I'm not sure. But after offering me a glancing peck on the cheek he ran, as he always does, to his favorite "center:" the sprawling "large motor" area. He normally hops on a small plastic exercise bike and pedals for a personal record while I collect the papers and spare clothes from his locker and start the long process of begging him to come home with me now please can we get out of here don't you want to get home and help me start dinner now please just put your coat on so we can go. But this time he bypassed the bike and instead approached a large bin full of tangled plastic pipes in various primary colors. He grabbed a long, green one in his thick white fingers and smiled broadly. Then he took another piece of pipe -- a curved blue one -- and carefully pushed the end of it into the green pipe. He knew what he was doing.

"I'M GONNA MAKE A GUN, MOMMY."

My heart dropped. I knew the day was coming when he'd see something or hear something or learn something about guns, but I was hoping he would maybe please be 25 or 26 years old. I looked on in horrified silence as he circled the room, waving his creation in the air and aiming it toward doorways and piles of nap cots and construction paper-festooned bulletin boards.

"GUN! GUN! GUN! GUN! GUN!" he shouted enthusiastically.

As I sat there wishing I was a toddler whisperer or that I'd at least read some sort of book or article about how to talk to small children about guns, I told myself to say something productive that wouldn't make the situation worse. Finally, I willed my mouth to open and just form the simplest question I could muster:

Hmmmm. What's that for?

"FOR SQUIRTING APPLES," he replied gleefully. "SQUIRT, SQUIRT, SQUIRT."

My relief was immediate. I got in on the game, opening my mouth wide so he could launch imaginary apples into it. Posing questions about the variety of apple that was being "squirted" -- Are these Pink Ladies, Gala, or Honeycrisp? Laughing with my child at the thought of such a funny object. For my toddler, it turns out a gun can just be a silly toy that feeds hungry people a nutritious snack. I wanted to cry. I wanted to breathe a deep sign of relief. I wanted to take my little apple squirter and put him in a plastic time preservation bubble, crawl into it with him, and stay there forever.

I realized I'm starting to understand that horrible thing that nearly every parent hates and fears: my child's loss of innocence. I know he has to grow up and become worldly and learn to defend himself and develop deeper levels of empathy and read Kafka and get a driver's license, but there is just something so wonderful about innocence that makes my heart get big and my eyes get wet when I think about it. I love that he has it. I never want it to go away.

I love when my son waves hello to a passerby from his tricycle and later swells with pride in reporting how he met someone new. I don't want him to ever have to be afraid of saying hello to a neighbor on the sidewalk.

I love that my son gets genuinely enthusiastic about helping me bake cookies. I want him to always want to help me, and I never want anyone to tell him that cookies are bad for you or make you fat or tell him that it's not okay to be fat or to eat a cookie.

I love that my son loves things like popping soap bubbles, clearing the dinner table, and giving the contents of his piggy bank to sick children at the hospital because of how those acts make him or others feel inside. I never want him to not do those things, nor do I want him to ever do them for any other reason.

But I know all of these things will change, and probably sooner than I want them to. And in my mind, that's okay because those changes are part of growing up and becoming who you are.

But in my heart, I see the appeal of that bubble. I understand why helicopter parenting is so popular. Yes, it's overprotective. And yes, it's wrong. But maybe there's something admirable in wanting to preserve that childhood innocence for as long as possible. In covering their eyes during the scary scenes. In kissing their injuries. In believing that guns squirt apples.

Just give me a few more months of this, please?

2014 Recap: Excessive Docu-Momming Edition!

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was May 2011 and I was traveling in Italy, five months pregnant with my son CJ. I thought it would be special to pick up a handmade paper book there and use it as my child's baby book. I would artistically mount photographs, I told myself, document every milestone in a beautiful calligraphic script, and treasure the book forever.

But looks like I just use Twitter to record stuff.

Last year, I posted a recap of 2013 in tweets about my child -- mostly his hilarious quotes, and it ended up being a really good way to document CJ's development. Well, it was superior by default because it's the only thing I've done. So a few weeks ago, I set out to create a similar recap for 2014. But Twitter only had my tweets back to March 16, and all attempts to request my archive have fallen on deaf ears. Turns out @Support isn't actually so at supportive.

So, I regret that I've lost two months of my son's life to the Twitter machine. But I'll pick it up with Georges Niang's bloody eye against Kansas in the Big 12 tournament, because that's really when life got good last year, anyway. No?

So here's 2014 in CJ:

March 16: @GeorgesNiang20 is now the poster child-slash-reference point for "owies" at our house. "JorgNan is feeling better," 2-yr-old CJ says.

March 16: CJ couldn't stay up last night, so we showed video this AM. "Eye-lones cut down the white part of the hoop with orange scissors." RIGHT ON.

March 18: CJ: "No, don't give me a kiss, Mommy. I'm already happy."

March 19: "Next week!" = CJ's way of saying farewell, even if it's just a 5-minute separation.

March 23: CJ this morning: "Mommy, take my picture." Me: "Okay. Smile!"

March 26: Kid always wants to wants to watch "Eyelones," so eyelones.tv always appeases. But tonight he's asking for "different Eyelones." So spoiled.

March 30: My dad was w/ my colicky niece last night. CJ: "Where's Grandpa?" Gma: "Everyone's taking a turn holding Whitney." CJ: "I don't want my turn."

April 2: CJ at 8 p.m.: “I don’t wanna wear a SleepSack.” Me: “OK, are you sure? You might get cold.” CJ at 2:30 a.m.: “PUT MY SLEEPSACK ON, MOMMY!”

April 6: CJ on his breakfast of blueberry pancakes and sausage: “I’m excited to eat pancakes, Mommy! And I’m happy to see some meat.”

April 10: Gma to CJ after he forbade her from “turning left:” “Aren’t you being a little bossy?” CJ: “No, Grandma. I’m being BIG bossy.” Fair enough.

April 16: CJ, describing his strawberry yogurt this morning: “It’s good. Just like fresh strawberries from a bowl.”

April 18: Parenting win: My 2 ½-year-old son says he wants to be like Hallie Christofferson when he grows up.

April 19: According to CJ, Ben has an NFC Championship Trophy, only in gold. It’s a plastic fantasy football trophy, but same difference.

April 19: CJ, yelling in Daddy’s backswing at the golf course: “I’M GONNA BE REAL QUIET FOR YOU, DADDY.” #golfetiquette #nailedit
 

May 2: CJ described his Easter candy as tasting “like European chocolate.”

May 4: CJ is in his crib chanting “LET’S GO STATE! LET’S GO STATE!” Guess it’s time to get up. #lovethatkid

May 4: CJ’s review of Sesame Street Live: “I liked it a little bit. It was a little bit too dark and a little bit too loud. Let’s not go to a show.”

May 7: My 2-year-old has started concluding all stories he tells with a singsong “ANY-way…”

May 7: That was my kid hollering “HERE FISHY FISHY” into the koi pond at the Ankeny Waterfront Seafood tonight. Cuz of this.

May 12: Brunch at Wakonda Club and Des Moines Symphony with my mom made for a great Mother’s Day. Also getting sprayed with a garden hose by my 2-year-old.

May 18: What color cars do you like to play with, Mommy? Me: Well, I like blue, black, and red best. CJ: Here. You have yellow and green, Mommy.

May 21: CJ on toast: “Mommy, take off the crunchy parts?” #maybemissingthepoint

May 22: After I turn out the lights at bedtime: “Mommy, I can’t see my tongue!” #toddlerproblems

June 4: Dear Nestle: If you print an upside-down rabbit on your milk bottle, an OCD 2-year-old WILL turn it over & spill the contents everywhere.

June 8: CJ at bedtime: “Mommy, I’m gonna tell you something. First, this is a point. Okay? Now I am pointing at a chair.” Okay, boss. Got it.

June 9: Listening to Alt Nation w/ CJ yesterday. Just a few bars into a song, he says: “Is this ‘Out of My League?’” Yes. Yes, it was. #altrockbaby

June 13: CJ on Father’s Day: “Is there gonna be a tree, like at Christmas?”

June 15: The other day, CJ, seemingly out of nowhere, busted out a “Light it up, up, up…I’m on FY-AHHHHH!” #fallouttoddler

June 25: Eavesdropping on the nursery monitor as CJ talks to his stuffed toy owl, post-nap: “I just picked my nose, Owl!” That’s DISGUSTING! Ahahahaha!”

July 1: Realized tonight that CJ thinks people fly ON, not in, airplanes. After I told him Daddy was flying tonight, CJ worried that he’d fall off.

July 7: CJ & Granny always tell me before I leave on Monday morning not to work too hard. Today Ceej added: “Work softly, Mommy.” #mykidlovesadverbs

July 9: CJ was just the quietest he’s been in 2+ hours – after about 10 seconds of not talking. Next thing out of his mouth? “Mommy, do you have a penis?”

July 10: CJ: “Is it July?” Me: “Yes.” CJ, 5 seconds later: “Is it July now?” “Yes.” Five seconds after that: “Is it still July?” #couldbealongmonth

July 10: CJ’s summer vocab: Pool noodle=“tool noodle” and playing tennis="playing Tennessee."

July 19: CJ, shopping for baby carrots today: “They’re babies? [pause, concerned look] Does that cucumber [next to the carrots] take care of them?”

July 23: Every time we pass the bulldozers & construction equipment razing buildings on Ingersoll, I have to reassure CJ that they won’t tear down our house.

July 23: CJ, after blasting a chip shot over the practice green tonight: “Oh, Lordy! What did I do? Jesus! JEEEE-SUS!” Too much golfing with @benbruns.

July 31: CJ saw a dead ant on the sidewalk 2 weeks ago. I’ve spent every bedtime since assuring him there’s “no dead ant” and that a “birdie ate it.”

August 21: Is there anything sweeter than your toddler telling you at the end of a trying day that you look pretty? The answer is no. There is not.

August 22: CJ: “What does that orange sign say?” Me: “It says road work.” CJ: “AHEAD. It says Road Work AHEAD, Mommy.” I have a Mini-Me on my hands.

August 23: B was just on a conference call in our house. Pretty sure there was at least one “Mommy, did you clog the toilet?” yelled in the background.

August 23: Isiserettes + music + pizza + froyo + fresh-squeezed lemonade + dunk tank + train rides + bouncy house + balloon ani-mannals=CJ loved his first Ingersoll Live!

August 25: CJ to @benbruns, after Daddy painted a spot on the kitchen ceiling: “Oh, Daddy! You did a gorgeous job with that!”

August 25: This morning CJ played a game of “trucks drink lemon beer” with some wooden pickups and cans of Leinie’s Summer Shandy from our mini fridge.

September 4: If CJ’s turning 3 tomorrow, why did I have to unbend his elbows for him at bedtime tonight?

September 17: “Mommy, sing me one song before bed.” (I start singing "Twinkle, Twinkle") “No, Mommy! A song about sanitation workers!”

October 1: The burning question that’s torturing my 3-year-old today is “Why don’t we own a dunk tank?”

October 4: Would love if 3-year-old could find happy medium between crying if I get up to pee and “Mommy, stay out of here while I’m playing trains!”

October 4: CJ on the baseball game he saw briefly on TV today: “That’s a funny way to play golf, Mommy.”

October 6: Made the mistake of saying one of my potted plants “looked sad.” CJ spent some time consoling it this weekend. He remains concerned.

October 8: I estimate that my 3-year-old asked me 120 questions, many of them starting with “why,” between 5:30-7:30 p.m. last night. Not exaggerating.

October 14: “Mommy, it looks pretty on your face.”

October 17: CJ, reading the end of “Clifford’s Animal Sounds:” What does Clifford say? Clifford says bow wow – yippy yo, yippy yay. #probablymyfault #snooppuppy

October 24: It was Halloween costume day at CJ’s school. We’re bringing back the beloved pumpkin this year.

October 29: CJ: “Abraham Lincoln!” Me: “How do you know about Abraham Lincoln?” CJ, in condescending tone: “Well, he WAS the president, Mommy.” #served

October 31: CJ enjoyed trick-or-treating last night, but also handing out candy at our house and tattling on the kids who didn’t say “thank you.” Sigh.

November 1: From roughly May-Oct., wearing flip-flops was the equivalent of Chinese water torture for CJ. Now on Nov. 1, he wants to wear them to bed.

November 2: Daddy didn’t advance in the human foosball tourney and the Packers are idle, so park it is.

November 2: CJ on the stripes on his track suit: “I look like I play for the Drake Bulldogs today.”

November 4: CJ’s favorite toy currently is a talking Taco Bell Chihuahua with a Y2K party hat that says “Happy New Year, Amigos.” #longstory

November 5: Thanks to @benbruns, CJ is roaming around the house singing “Pinball wizard, it has to be a trick…something, something, something…”

November 5: More “Pinball Wizard” from CJ this evening: “How do you think he does it? What makes him so good? CARROTS!”

November 5: Sitting at the dining room table sharing a yellow cake I made with my 3-year-old, he asked me if I like myself. #freetherapy

November 6: Since Ben was traveling, I let CJ be in charge of dinner last night. He served Annie’s boxed mac & cheese, corn, cuties, & boxed mix cake.

November 8: A street sweeper is on our corner picking up leaves and putting them in a dump truck. #greatestthingthathaseverhappened

November 8: CJ: “I don’t wanna wear jammies. I’ll just wear my skin.”

November 12: “Edward is chuffing happily into the tomatoes.”

November 14: “Why are you wearing Cyclones, Mommy?” Me: “We’re playing Oakland tonight.” Cue CJ running around the house chanting “BEAT THE RAIDERS.”

November 15: K, you try not to laugh when a 3-year-old in dino PJs & a pumpkin costume beret gets in your face and growls “I don’t like Rutherford B. Hayes.”

November 16: My 3-year-old on courtside seats: “Why do we have to sit ALL THE WAY DOWN HERE?!” #firstworldtoddlerproblems

November 17: CJ, on the baby whose picture is on the back of the package of baby wipes: “I don’t know him, but I don’t like that guy.”

November 19: Today CJ is starting every sentence with “I’m from Tidmouth Sheds.” As in, “I’m from Tidmouth Sheds, and I’ll finish my burger after my nap.”

November 23: Went to my awesome women’s book group tonight. CJ informed me there would be guys’ book club at home. They discussed “Rainforest Colors.”

November 25: If my 3-year-old is picking his boogers and eating them during a youth symphony performance, should I just be happy that he’s being quiet?

December 3: Ask a toddler to smile, and this is what you get. Every. Time.

December 4: “Mommy, what kind of a name for a song is ‘Spaghetti to Look a Lot Like Christmas?’”

December 7: My 3-year-old’s current obsession: the photocopier. Evidence all over his bedroom.

December 13: Listening to my 3-year-old try to sing “Say Geronimo” is maybe one of the cutest things ever.

December 15: The Dr. Suess book “Wacky Wednesday” sends my toddler into convulsions of laughter.

December 24: CJ on the smattering of snow we woke up to: “But we can still make a snow fort…”

December 29: CJ’s room, currently. The kid is in to puzzles.

December 31: My 3-year-old noticed Jameel McKay’s red and green shoes and speculated that he got them from Santa.

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ADDENDUM! Here are the tweets from Jan. 1- March 15, thanks to "AllMyTweets.net" and my friend Adam who told me about it.

January 4: CJ, talking to himself at dinner tonight: "Look at you, CJ! That's a hard job, peeling a Cutie.

January 5: CJ's wakeup babbling/imaginary play this morning, per monitor: "Go away, turtle! Don't bite Mommy!" Thanks for looking out for me, Buddy.

January 8: Got a back scratcher in our family's white elephant exchange this year. CJ is a big fan now of the "scratch backer."

January 15: That awkward moment when you realize you've accidentally done something helpful & caring for your fiercely independent 2-year-old & there's gonna be hell to pay

January 30: 2-yr-old made me play Capital Cities' "Center Stage" 5x in a row last night. Told me to "have a good time" in different rooms of the house. 

February 1: CJ just asked me why he didn't get to see Grandpa today. I told him Papa had to go to Waterloo. Pause. "Yeah," he nodded. "Water IS loose." 

February 6: At least one member of our family still has Broncos Fever. Two-year-old CJ woke up today chanting "Omaha, Omaha." 

February 8: Please someone offer to give me a dollar every time I say, "Please sit down in your car seat. Sit down. Sit. Sit down in your car seat NOW."

February 8: CJ just cheered on ISU during an instant replay and then, after Ejim sank the jumper, turned to me and said "I called it!" #thisismykid 

February 11: Explained to CJ how the Cyclones didn't win. "It's OK," he said. "Keep trying. Keep shooting." If Fred needs a motivational guest speaker...

February 12: Was listening to Jim James' A-E-I-O-U in the car. Pretty soon here comes a croon from the backseat: "And Bingo was his name-o. 

February 16: My 2-year-old told me my hair looks cute today. Feb 16, 2014

February 17: Nursery monitor this morning: Hey, Kate! KATE! KATE! HEY, KATE! Hey! Hey! Kaaaaaate! 

February 20: Soon as you finish food on your dinner plate, CJ scoops you some more. My 2-year-old son is an Italian grandmother. #youreskinandbones

February 20: Parent tip: Said goddammit in front of your 2-yr-old? You CAN convince him you actually said "got damaged." Not that I know from experience. 

February 25: CJ's & Ben's last 2 nights' evening activity has been watching Golf Channel while building a LEGO fire station. @benbruns is in Dad Heaven. 

March 2: Now that my husband's an uncle and my brother's a daddy, not sure to whom CJ is referring when he says "Uncle Daddy." But it's quite cute. 

March 5: My 2-year-old son and cyclones.tv devotee on Paul Rhoads: "That man makes loud noises, Mommy!" #Cyclones

March 6: My 2-year-old LOVES @FitzAndTantrums. Every time we get in the car he says, "Want Break Da Walls!" then is thrilled for "Walker Song" after 

March 7: Not sure there's anything left for me to teach my kid now that he can engage in a Hello, Newman/Hello, Jerry exchange w/ proper inflection.

March 8: CJ, counting backward with the book "Five Little Ladybugs:" 5, 4, 3, 2, Lowercase L. He's not sure what's a letter & what's a number yet. 

March 9: Reedy-raider=how CJ says the word "radiator."

March 15: My 2-year-old and I are stress eating a cheesecake like The Golden Girls. #Cyclones

March 15: Things I let my kid do tonight so I could watch #ISUvsKU: eat a napkin, play w/ my phone charger, consume copious amounts of M&Ms #parenting

How parenthood and the Internet made me love science for the first time

I never particularly loved school (aside from the extracurricular activities, of course), but I was always a pretty good student. English and math were always right up my alley, and I even passed "hacky sack" in P.E. ca. 1994. But science and me? We've never been such great friends, I have to say. Admitting and embracing my intellectual limitations and right-brain-dominance, I have always been more than willing to blindly accept the fact that things like electricity just work, rather than having someone explain to me exactly how they work. (I kind of glaze over, to be honest. You should feel sorry for my poor engineer husband.) I appreciate that my attitude is pretty selfish and anti-intellectual. I will own that. I just wish that it made me the worst kind of unscientific person. But I'm not even close.

You see, I think I always took it for granted that most non-science-y people were inclined, like I am, to trust science-y people on issues of, well, science. But the modern prevalence of online communications has given us all a terrifying glimpse into how our fellow humans' brains actually work, and it's pretty ugly. Like, "I dislike facts" ugly. I may have gotten a C in high school chemistry, but I have always been a fan of facts and accepted them for what they are.

It was actually the simplest, dumbest thing in the world that sent me over the edge last week. Someone innocently posted a funny image on Facebook, a commenter linked to Snopes to show that the image is a hoax, and the original poster responded with an appropriate, "Oh, shoot. I'm sorry!" No problem. This kinda stuff happens all the time. The truth was documented, and we're all the wiser. End of the conversation, right? Wrong.

It's what happens next that always gets me. The fact-haters start speaking up in the comments:

Oh, come on -- it's funny! Seeing the humor makes life more pleasant.

I'm just going to go ahead and choose to believe this is true because it's so hilarious.

Why are you ruining the fun by pointing out that it's fake?

It's as though people now take it as a personal insult when others point out evidence, facts, or any of those other silly things that I used to think were universally valued. And the false-equivalency attitude that fact-free opinions deserve the same respect and attention as actual, factual evidence might be the thing that most makes me want to pull my lower lip over my skull and cry in a corner in the fetal position. Like when Bill Nye the Science Guy has to debate the creation museum dude. Or like when I was told in an online discussion group recently that I would have to "agree to disagree" with a woman who'd just implied that vaccines cause autism. Whatever happened to the notion of "You're entitled to your own opinion, but not your own facts?" That's apparently "out" now. We're living in the age in which people aren't held back by their own lack of knowledge.

Hey, I admit that I have made a conscious choice to be part of the online parenting community and that there are inherent risks in doing this. A lot of them, actually. I've privately lost my mind more than a few times dealing with discourteous people who think the world revolves around their children and activists who for some reason think it's a heroic cause to insert their noses into the issue of how other people feed their babies. Bottom line: There are certainly a lot of people out there raising their kids without facts. And while it makes me sad, I try not to make it my business. Until it is.

I am absolutely, 100% entitled to be angry with people who live in my community, don't vaccinate their children, spread their B.S. around, and then send their kids into public spaces with my kid, putting him and others at risk. I am absolutely, 100% entitled to be angry with Alicia Silverstone for using her celebrity status to write a book telling depressed new mothers that they wouldn't feel like committing suicide if they'd just eaten more vegetables.

These fact-free evangelists are actually killing people. And for what?

I guess that's why now, approximately three years into my adventure in the online parenting world, I have seen enough, am officially angry, and have taken it upon myself to learn more about scientific research methods, even if I am still not 100% sure how my blow dryer works. Because now that any person can be an amateur scientist or any celebrity mother can write a medical book, apparently, we all have to be armed with facts. Real, meaty, lovely facts. And we can't be afraid to share them with people.

Why, no. Having your pregnancy induced does not increase your chance of C-section.
Why, no. Breastfeeding your baby won't actually make his IQ higher.
Why, no. Herd immunity isn't a myth.
Why, no. Guns DO kill children.

For many years, it was considered bad practice for doctors to participate in social media. But staying away from the discussion may have been the worst practice of all. Today, when you search for parenting information online, most of it is bad information. If you need someone to tell you breastmilk cures cancer or how to sue the government because your child definitely developed autism from a vaccine, you can find him or her. What's really missing from the online discussion are the voices of evidence-based medicine. I'm glad more and more medical professionals are starting to insert themselves into the discussion -- including our own pediatrician, who recently started a blog to distribute accurate information for parents. The more we get, the more likely we'll be to heed it and ignore the crazy stuff.

Then maybe next time a father "googles vaccines" he won't get information that scares him out of a tetanus shot -- making a decision that nearly kills his son. In the battle between facts and the Internet, the Internet is winning in a big, scary way. But me? I'm cheering for science to become cool again.

From the mouths of babes: 22 months

Kids just get more and more hilarious every day, and my ham of a kiddo is certainly no exception. We're just about six weeks shy of age 2 and definitely have a ridiculously entertaining motormouth on our hands. According to stories from my parents, he comes by this honestly. (Ahem.) A few of my favorite 22-month CJ quirks are:

• He loves to swim. You can't get him out of the pool, especially if he can watch the big kids do "wa-wa jumps" (the diving board).
• When reading books with him, you’d have to know the back story to understand most of his comments. His favorite books right now are picture books for learning vocabulary, colors, etc. On the “silver” page of his “Colors” book, it is important to note that we do NOT have a robot downstairs (Downstairs. No.). And by the same token, the double fuel tanker in his “Things That Go” book does NOT have a rock on it.
• After taking a bath, it’s time for “knee,” because CJ puts on his own lotion and his favorite spot to rub in the lotion is on his knee.
• When playing on the backyard playset, it is important to exclaim “birdie poo poo,” because there was once a blob of bird crap on his slide, which is the most hilarious thing that has ever happened.
• He’s big on putting things “back” (BAH-ackkkkk!) After we mulched almost the entire yard, CJ asked us to please put the mulch “back” (in the driveway where it was once piled high).
• I am starting to suspect that CJ’s favorite food is rice (RY! Mmmmm!) merely because he creates such a mess with it on the floor that we have to use the vacuum (Mess! Voom-voom, Mama?) after he eats it.
• Sesame Street is on TV at 9 o’clock in the morning. CJ is well aware of this and likes to announce, usually very loudly, “NINE ELMO!” Needless to say, his favorite number is currently 9.
• Speaking of Elmo, what is it about that little furry red guy? This morning I was running through the list of friends he might see at school. Are you excited to see Colton? No. Lexi? No. Harper? No. Well, whom DO you want to see? Elmo. Touche.

Important moments in the day of a toddler

Had to share this fabulous poetry about parenting a toddler from Alice at Denali Parent Coaching. The last item was especially essential for me today as I struggled through the second morning in a row of a separation tantrum while another parent snuck out of the room when his child wasn't looking.

Important moments in the day of a toddler...

• Choice! Between which shirt they want to wear, whether they get carried or hold your hand, if they want the blue cup or the red cup, if they want to finish their book before you change their diaper. The more we can give them choices, and then respect the choice they make, the more we are supporting their growth as self-directed, capable beings. Simple...most of the time:-)
  
• Saying "NO!" And being heard...and respected. Respect can mean going with their NO; respect can mean acknowledging their NO and still moving ahead with what needs to happen--gently, firmly, kindly
  
• Lengthy, uninterrupted time to explore--to practice over and over climbing up and down the stairs, to figure out just how many items can fit in the empty oatmeal container, to dump and fill and dump again, to discover what happens when they try to drink from the end of the hose. What a gift to our toddlers when we can give them the time and space to explore their world in just the way they need!
  
• Eating! The freedom to use their hands, to work with a spoon, to squish and spit and drop on the floor. A time for them to be in charge of their bodies--what they want to put in, what they'd much rather keep out; a time for conversation as we talk about what they are eating, describe what they can do--"You scooped your berries with your spoon!" and respect when they feel done. Totally supportive of their growing independent, in charge of themselves souls
  
• Sleep...quiet time, a time they often seek our laps, our arms, and soak up our one-on-one time reading and singing softly to them. And maybe a time they work hard at preventing--and your gentle, firm, kind presence creates the safe place to be mad and still settle...tear streaked cheeks and all
  
• Diaper changes, baths, care for their bodies--these are amazing times for connection, for learning as you offer choices, talk about what is happening, give the time and space for them to explore the lint in their belly button, to toddle away naked inviting you to a chase game, to figuring out how to squish a wash cloth and use it to clean their toes
  
• Separating from you--a celebration of their growing independence that can be met with pushing you away, alligator tears as you say good bye, or total ignorance of your leaving (to just tantrum when you return!). In order to respect their growing understanding that you will come back, to support their growing confidence that they can be apart from you--we have to say good bye...kindly, gently, and once. No lingering, please, and no sneaking away. Communicating your confidence that they will be safe and content is done by respectfully letting them know you are leaving, giving them their hug and kiss, and then...leaving. Tough at times

These are moments in every toddler's day that we can welcome as the simple yet rich learning experiences they are. Now we can relax into them, be present through out them, and feel certain we are growing a little one who can be confident, capable, curious, in charge--how awesome is that?!

This was shared by the wonderful Janet Lansbury on Facebook via Denali Parent Coaching.

Fears for tears

One of the biggest adjustments I’ve had to make along the parenting journey is the shift from believing my child’s cries always mean there’s something I need to fix to realizing that sometimes his cries are his way of trying to fix himself. Trust me, it’s been a bumpy road. “If your baby isn’t crying, that means all his needs are met” is what the books and websites like to say.  So yes, happy sigh. My child is sleeping/eating/playing peacefully, so I am an awesome mom who very successfully meets her child’s needs for at least 15 to 20 minutes. But it’s also easy to interpret that statement as “if your baby is crying, you’re doing something wrong.” Which is exactly what I did for a long time.

As I’ve mentioned before, I am not a fan of picking a “parenting style” and getting involved in mommy wars and saying that one way of doing things is better than the other. But I have read books and blogs based on different “styles,” so some of that information obviously seeped into my brain as I was reading it. Attachment parenting enthusiasts love to trumpet Dr. William Sears’ “excessive crying causes brain damage” claims that have been widely revealed as a misinterpretation of a scientific study and even prompted the journal Pediatrics to issue a policy statement.

But many parents take The Baby Book and other Sears publications as gospel, and they’re making themselves sick trying to stop every crying episode. It’s pretty preposterous when you think about it, really. Making parents believe that crying is harmful to children is just another scare tactic that makes already nervous parents even more insane.

As I’ve progressed in my comfort with parenting, I’ve paid close attention to the idea that my child is a whole person who isn’t that different from me but who has far fewer options for expressing emotions than I do (cross venting on a blog off the list). He has legitimate feelings and has no other way to express them than through fairly primitive displays. Acknowledging my child’s feelings, relating to them, and, if applicable, trying to offer a solution, helps him process the issue and move on far faster than does telling him “he’s okay” and waving a toy in his face to distract him. What does a child learn about human interaction when an adult sends such confusing signals back when he attempts to express himself? If an adult falls down and hurts himself or is crying over an ended relationship, do other adults rush over to explain to that person that the situation is not worth getting upset and saying, “here, do you want a baseball?"

So while a child may be crying over something that seems silly to you, I have come to believe that it is still important for the child's development to handle the situation respectfully. A child’s universe is more narrow than ours, and he hasn’t had the opportunity to develop the perspective an adult has. A stuffed toy being taken away may have the same gravity for a child as a burglary does for an adult. And how would you feel if you desperately wanted to communicate something but didn’t know how to talk? It could be frustrating to the point of tears.

So yes, a toddler’s crying is annoying and upsetting to adults. It certainly is to me. But by taking a moment to realize that the English translation of my son’s cries is “I am frustrated and need help,” it has become easier for me to communicate with him. And I look forward to the day we can have a conversation, because it’s coming soon.

Teething and other maladies of toddlerhood

Before you have a baby, you know you'll face challenges -- breastfeeding, sleep issues, installing the car seat, and whatnot. No one is prepared for parenthood to be easy -- and sometimes, actually, it's a lot easier than it's made out to be. But then there's one aspect in which I didn't realize life would be so hard: surviving cold and flu season.

You see, our son goes part time to a child care center. It's a wonderful place where he has made wonderful friends and learned wonderful things and eaten some wonderful crackers. I have no complaints. But from November until March, it's also a wonderful incubator of viruses. Due to this fact, our winter usually goes something like this:

1. CJ's nose begins running. It runs like a fountain. And it runs some more. If we're lucky, his nose stops running by Final Four weekend.
2. CJ gets a cough and becomes a little irritable and ultra-sleepy. Maternal instinct kicks in and I start freaking out.
3. We think CJ is feeling better, so we take him somewhere fun in public and announce to our friends and family that this particular cold virus wasn't too bad and that, hey, we're totally calm here and can definitely handle this parenting thing like aces and no, I definitely wasn't freaking out a few days ago.
4. The next day, CJ runs a horribly high fever. I worry again. We give him Advil, the fever comes down, and I assume he'll get better because we don't want to be those parents.
5. Stuff starts running out of CJ's ears. We clean it up and take him to his ear, nose, and throat specialist.
6. CJ is prescribed antibiotics for an infection.
7. CJ starts feeling better but develops some sort of rash from the antibiotics. We buy special cream for the rash.
8. By the time the rash clears up, his nose starts running even more and we start all over again.

What isn't listed is the fact that my husband and I contract some of these viruses for ourselves -- and there have also been a few awesomely weird stomach problems in the mix as well. (Last year I didn't watch a second of the Super Bowl because all three of us were sleeping off one of the worst 24-hour stomach bugs we'd ever had. Frankly, the thought of the Super Bowl still makes me nauseated a year later and I don't even know who performed in the halftime show.)

But sometimes, we have one of those rare healthy days when most of CJ's bodily functions are reasonably normal. So of course that's when he has a horrendous episode of teething.

This weekend we were on a virus upswing, so naturally it was a bit of a teething disaster. The little dude will seem fine one second, but then his cheeks will turn tomato red and he'll start crying. Like, pathetically crying in pain and throwing himself on the floor in misery. This has a horrible effect on me; half the time I start crying, too. He isn't a huge fan of pacifiers or teething accessories, so a lot of times we just have to wait out the episode or let him be creative in resolving it. As a fan of bouncy balls, he definitely found a way to be creative with his teething remedy this evening. And yes, he shared the wealth with his parents. We aren't too cool to walk around the house with smiley face bouncy balls in our mouths, especially if it cheers CJ up.

Heck, it cheered me up and I already have all my teeth.

Poor little guy can't catch a break. I'm not a fan of February, but seeing whereas it gets us another month closer to spring: Bring it on. We're running out of Kleenex.