Men think about children differently than Women. That is in NO way to belittle what men provide to the dynamic. In fact, it is largely this dynamic that keeps me going from day to day. So to this end in mind, I share with you as follows:
E decided this morning that she was going to get off our bed. Both Daddy and I think this is a bad idea, laregely given that it's a 4 ft drop! But we watch her do it anyways, because, I mean, someday she'll have to perfect her landing right?
Anyway - Off E Slides, and we see the last of her curly mop head disappear over the edge of the bed (don't worry, feet first desent), and as the last curl vanishes, we hear a long fart... followed by a soft thud. And E gets up and walks away.
Now, aside from the obvious about this situation being funny, Daddy then contributes his male perspective to the situation...
As Daddy stands in front of his closet, and E marches past, out the door, clutching her Binky, off on some early morning Mission, Daddy looks at E. And E looks at Daddy. Then... Daddy says:
"What was that? Your jet pack?"
============== INSERT LAUGHTER HERE =================
Yup. Men just think about children differently.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Toilets and E don't mix
By popular demand. Ok, so by popular, I mean by demand of 1, but still there was a demand, so! By my popular demand, the "toilet story". I should preface this story with a warning that laughter WILL ensue!
It's amazing how being a parent changes you. You believe you know who you are. And then you are a parent. And months into it, you find yourself the parent you ACTUALLY are, without the books, and google searches and 800 person poll as to what you should do. You just are. And you look around, and realize, THIS, is who I am. And this is the parent I am. And boy, I am NOT the parent I thought I would be. And this can be good. It can be bad. And heck, in a lot of ways, it just can be, without being either.
Somehow, this really explains the toilet story.
You should be hearing the fading twinkle music, that brings us to a historical date in time. Look around you, the computer/phone is fading away, the room around you is becoming fuzzy, and as it begins to refocus you are struck by the smell of ever green, the sound of yule tide good cheer, and, well, when the dust settles, it's 2 months ago, and it's Christmas.
So! Christmas. Lots of family gatherings. Schedules thrown out the window. Cute little dresses. Did I mention lots of family gatherings? As we sailed into Christmas evening, E had already experienced a peaceful Christmas Eve with a church service and meal with her Grandpa, Grandma and Great Grandma. A Christmas morning, full of more toys than a 1 yo could possibly appreciate, and a long afternoon nap. We were sailing through this first "real" Christmas no problems! So off for Christmas dinner we went. To Daddy's side of the family. To see Uncle A and Aunt J, and be spoiled by Nonno, and doted upon by her older boy cousins J(6) and A(4).
As with any family gathering in OUR family, there was wine. There was dinner. There was coffee. There was sambuca. And there were J, A, and little E. Have you ever noticed when you are surrounded by family that somehow your senses are heightened by a slight distrust, or they are dulled, because the trust is very deep, and you finally feel like you can let your guards down and relax. In this case, as with all of our family gatherings, our senses calm. And Mommy and Daddy relax. And it's especially easy with J following E around and providing a running commentary as to their adventures, activities, and most importantly their where abouts. Once you've heard for the twelfth time "MOM! E is in the living room!", and have had your 3rd adult beverage over the course of the evening, you start to get that warm family holiday feeling of security.
And then it hits you. Something you hear, that your mind just can't process.
"MOM! E is in the TOILET!"
My favorite part, is that nobody moved. In fact, Uncle A, repeated it, while continuing what he was doing, without missing a beat. "E is in the toilet." Matter of fact. Uncle A is a cop. He is very matter of fact.
As if slow motion, to this day, I see Aunt J, and Daddy go flying out of the room. This little call had come from upstairs. I hear the thumping of feet on the stairs. And frankly, in the split seconds there after, I decided to finish my sambuca. It was a small bathroom. There were already 2 adults on their way. And J had NOT sounded concerned.
Aunt J rounded the corner to see E, leveraged up on her belly, on the rim of the toilet, with both hands splashing with delight in the toilet. Her hair was soaked, her clothes were wet from top to bottom. As Daddy rounded the corner on Aunt J's heels, E turned and gave a grin! And of course tried to make a rapid B-line for the door. Lest any of the adults have the intention of ruining her fun.
E was returned to me shortly there after. In cousin A's PJs, although big, at least dry. With a head full of damp curls. I would love to tell you she snuggled down and turned into the sweet baby I had spent the previous Christmas with. But she didn't. She wriggled down, and was off.
It was eye opening.
A) You can't control everything, heck, with a toddler, you're lucky if you can control ANYTHING
B) Roll with the punches, it's considerably more enjoyable
C) Playing in toilet water isn't the end of the world
D) Our future was going to be full of chaos... and we would learn to love every second of it
And in that moment. As my daughter played in the toilet, and her Aunt and Daddy cleaned her up, and I chatted with her Uncle, and Nonno, and sipped my sambuca, I saw it. The kind of parent I am. And I loved meeting her. And was ready to follow her into the life that was ahead of us, whole heartedly. Especially if she'd pass the sambuca!
It's amazing how being a parent changes you. You believe you know who you are. And then you are a parent. And months into it, you find yourself the parent you ACTUALLY are, without the books, and google searches and 800 person poll as to what you should do. You just are. And you look around, and realize, THIS, is who I am. And this is the parent I am. And boy, I am NOT the parent I thought I would be. And this can be good. It can be bad. And heck, in a lot of ways, it just can be, without being either.
Somehow, this really explains the toilet story.
You should be hearing the fading twinkle music, that brings us to a historical date in time. Look around you, the computer/phone is fading away, the room around you is becoming fuzzy, and as it begins to refocus you are struck by the smell of ever green, the sound of yule tide good cheer, and, well, when the dust settles, it's 2 months ago, and it's Christmas.
So! Christmas. Lots of family gatherings. Schedules thrown out the window. Cute little dresses. Did I mention lots of family gatherings? As we sailed into Christmas evening, E had already experienced a peaceful Christmas Eve with a church service and meal with her Grandpa, Grandma and Great Grandma. A Christmas morning, full of more toys than a 1 yo could possibly appreciate, and a long afternoon nap. We were sailing through this first "real" Christmas no problems! So off for Christmas dinner we went. To Daddy's side of the family. To see Uncle A and Aunt J, and be spoiled by Nonno, and doted upon by her older boy cousins J(6) and A(4).
As with any family gathering in OUR family, there was wine. There was dinner. There was coffee. There was sambuca. And there were J, A, and little E. Have you ever noticed when you are surrounded by family that somehow your senses are heightened by a slight distrust, or they are dulled, because the trust is very deep, and you finally feel like you can let your guards down and relax. In this case, as with all of our family gatherings, our senses calm. And Mommy and Daddy relax. And it's especially easy with J following E around and providing a running commentary as to their adventures, activities, and most importantly their where abouts. Once you've heard for the twelfth time "MOM! E is in the living room!", and have had your 3rd adult beverage over the course of the evening, you start to get that warm family holiday feeling of security.
And then it hits you. Something you hear, that your mind just can't process.
"MOM! E is in the TOILET!"
My favorite part, is that nobody moved. In fact, Uncle A, repeated it, while continuing what he was doing, without missing a beat. "E is in the toilet." Matter of fact. Uncle A is a cop. He is very matter of fact.
As if slow motion, to this day, I see Aunt J, and Daddy go flying out of the room. This little call had come from upstairs. I hear the thumping of feet on the stairs. And frankly, in the split seconds there after, I decided to finish my sambuca. It was a small bathroom. There were already 2 adults on their way. And J had NOT sounded concerned.
Aunt J rounded the corner to see E, leveraged up on her belly, on the rim of the toilet, with both hands splashing with delight in the toilet. Her hair was soaked, her clothes were wet from top to bottom. As Daddy rounded the corner on Aunt J's heels, E turned and gave a grin! And of course tried to make a rapid B-line for the door. Lest any of the adults have the intention of ruining her fun.
E was returned to me shortly there after. In cousin A's PJs, although big, at least dry. With a head full of damp curls. I would love to tell you she snuggled down and turned into the sweet baby I had spent the previous Christmas with. But she didn't. She wriggled down, and was off.
It was eye opening.
A) You can't control everything, heck, with a toddler, you're lucky if you can control ANYTHING
B) Roll with the punches, it's considerably more enjoyable
C) Playing in toilet water isn't the end of the world
D) Our future was going to be full of chaos... and we would learn to love every second of it
And in that moment. As my daughter played in the toilet, and her Aunt and Daddy cleaned her up, and I chatted with her Uncle, and Nonno, and sipped my sambuca, I saw it. The kind of parent I am. And I loved meeting her. And was ready to follow her into the life that was ahead of us, whole heartedly. Especially if she'd pass the sambuca!
while I'm on the subject
Talking. We are labeling things. By WE I mean E is labeling things. Daddy and I parade through the house like two idiots who have lost our minds. What is this? Can you say "cup"? I imagine E thinks she has the dumbest parents ever. They need constant reminding as to what basic objects are. Oh well, good thing we were blessed with a little genius.
After a particularly rough night I sat listening to Daddy show E some flash cards. They speed through a bunch of them, "ball", "cat", "shoe", "dog", "baby". When suddenly what can only be described as a conversation takes a turn for the "worse"
All the flash cards elicited a response of "shoe"...
Daddy looks at a picture of a "woman" and decides, well, she was WEARING shoes... but had no good explanation for the sheep. except perhaps it should wear shoes... alas our little genius was done... and for the rest of time when a word is unknown, it will always be... a... SHOE
After a particularly rough night I sat listening to Daddy show E some flash cards. They speed through a bunch of them, "ball", "cat", "shoe", "dog", "baby". When suddenly what can only be described as a conversation takes a turn for the "worse"
All the flash cards elicited a response of "shoe"...
Daddy looks at a picture of a "woman" and decides, well, she was WEARING shoes... but had no good explanation for the sheep. except perhaps it should wear shoes... alas our little genius was done... and for the rest of time when a word is unknown, it will always be... a... SHOE
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I am one of those parents
I just said to my husband... I remember seeing other parents having fluid conversations with their young toddler. Thinking that the child made absolutely no sense whatsoever.
I am one of those parents. And surely you jest if her words are not very well articulated. What can I say... she's a genius.
Yup... I'm one of those parents!
I am one of those parents. And surely you jest if her words are not very well articulated. What can I say... she's a genius.
Yup... I'm one of those parents!
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.7
I'm Back
Time to bring this back to life. I had visions of what this would be. And without the time for what I perceived to be perfection, I gave up entirely. With a new vision of what this can be. I forge forward once again. Now, if I can not beguile you with an extended amount of time, I can at least record, in a brief thought. Some of my favorite moments. So. Like I said, I'm back.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Babies Bounce Back
As I'm sure all you smart readers were able to surmise from the recent posts, E has decided to both sit up on her own. And pull up to standing on her own. Both, in the same weekend. Well, as a matter of fact, her first attempt to pull up was only minutes after her first attempt to sit up. Although, her attempts at sitting up were far more successful than her first attempts at pulling up. In fact, the first attempt to sit up, resulted in, well... sitting up. Her first attempt at pulling up resulted in falling on the floor and crying for a long time. Oh well. Such is the world of babies.
And it is the world of babies, we have now moved on to the phase that I will refer to as "babies bounce back". There is nothing short of amazing at how much they cry when they get to this just barely mobile phase. She's constantly getting overly excited about one thing or another, forgetting to keep her balance, and falling over backwards. Or forwards. Or sideways. She cries. Bloody murder mind you. And 15 minutes later or so, she's back off exploring the world. It's an adjustment as a parent. You go from being the protector. To the... well... "run around behind them, fighting every urge to protect them, and let them figure it out on their own." Shortly after E decided she had "mastered" pulling up, I left her in the living room, on the floor. Ran up the stairs to grab her school outfit, and came back down. Not even 30 seconds. When I got back to the living room, E was standing beside a laundry basket full of towels. She was clutching the towel on top with one hand, and the side of the laundry basket with the other, as though the world would come to an end if she let go. Well the whole world probably would not have. But her little standing world, most certainly would have. And in that moment, I had this intense urge to run over, scoop her up, and say "NOOOO my little precious baby, you will hurt yourself if you fall." But I suddenly understood she was moving into a realm where making sure she had a relatively safe environment to explore in, was NOT going to prevent her from ever getting hurt. And so it began.
I keep learning, and chanting in my head, my new mantra "Babies bounce back." And she does. She has such determination, that she will fall down, go boom, cry for what feels like for ever. And then go on as if very little had happened.
Enter this weekend. Enter - bad mommy moment.
We went to a company picnic this weekend. It was fun, it was hot. I think E had a good time. What was to not like, wheeled around in a shaded stroller, people filling your cups as needed, and passing you little bits of yummy food. So it went well. Even the long drive to and from the picnic went well. But 2 blocks from our house. I look in the mirror in time to see E take a sip of her bottle, turn pail, and proceed to throw up on herself. GREAT! On the positive side, we were only 2 blocks from home. On the negative side... well really... I'm sure I don't have to explain it! But back to this weekend. And my bad mommy moment. We get home 2 minutes later and I scoop E out of the car seat and bring her into the house. I put E down in the bathtub for just a second so I could put some other things down and get ready to give her a bath. There was no water in the bathtub. And, she was covered in vomit. Seemed like a good contained spot for her. WRONG. First, she starts to crawl around the tub. Ok. Not so bad. I mean she can't get far right? WRONG. Then she slips, puts her hand in the drain. REALLY?!?!? Come on kid! I didn't think to put the plug in the drain, again, NO WATER, and she was OBVIOUSLY too big to fall in the drain. But I didn't think she'd be shoving her hand down it. So anyway, AGAIN, back to the bad mommy moment. She slips in the drain, and BONKS her head on the bathtub. HARD. I was in the room, I saw it happen, my heart sunk, I felt horrible. And I couldn't move fast enough to get to her. Not fast enough to prevent her from panicking and whipping her head to the SIDE, and then conking herself on the SIDE of the tub. Bad Mommy moment is in full swing now! I finally get to her. Scoop her up, and kiss her bumps. Trying to calm her down. She's still soaked. So we both climb into the bathtub, full clothes, and I turn on the water to clean her up. As if her world was not already spinning. The shower flip was still on, so instead of coming out in the tub, the water starts pouring down from above. E starts screaming bloody murder. At the top of her lungs. ABUSE! It was as if it was the straw that broke the baby's back. Daddy had come into the bathroom before I had tried to turn the water on. I sat on the floor of the tub, with E in my arms, fully clothed, soaked, and just looked up at him. I wanted to cry like E. But I'm mommy. So I pulled myself together, pealed her out of her dirty clothes, and finally accomplished filling up some water in the tub and cleaning her up. Daddy was able to sweep her up and take her to the living room, where, with a new diaper on, she decided it was safe to move on. And off she went. Back to crawling all over. Sitting up. Falling over, standing up, falling down.
It was when I realized my new mantra... Babies Bounce Back.
E has a big bruise on her forehead. And my heart still aches when I look at it. But E is still moving on. Even took her bath in the tub without any seeming leftover dislike for it, given the previous days disaster. So as I said. We've moved into a new phase. One which no matter how hard I try to protect her, I can't protect her from everything. She will get her fair share of bumps and bruises, cuts and scrapes. And I'll just have to try to limit what I can, and try my mommy magic to heal the rest.
To all the Mommies and Daddies out there, keep your heads high as our little ones start to fly. And as always, who dropped the pacifier!
And it is the world of babies, we have now moved on to the phase that I will refer to as "babies bounce back". There is nothing short of amazing at how much they cry when they get to this just barely mobile phase. She's constantly getting overly excited about one thing or another, forgetting to keep her balance, and falling over backwards. Or forwards. Or sideways. She cries. Bloody murder mind you. And 15 minutes later or so, she's back off exploring the world. It's an adjustment as a parent. You go from being the protector. To the... well... "run around behind them, fighting every urge to protect them, and let them figure it out on their own." Shortly after E decided she had "mastered" pulling up, I left her in the living room, on the floor. Ran up the stairs to grab her school outfit, and came back down. Not even 30 seconds. When I got back to the living room, E was standing beside a laundry basket full of towels. She was clutching the towel on top with one hand, and the side of the laundry basket with the other, as though the world would come to an end if she let go. Well the whole world probably would not have. But her little standing world, most certainly would have. And in that moment, I had this intense urge to run over, scoop her up, and say "NOOOO my little precious baby, you will hurt yourself if you fall." But I suddenly understood she was moving into a realm where making sure she had a relatively safe environment to explore in, was NOT going to prevent her from ever getting hurt. And so it began.
I keep learning, and chanting in my head, my new mantra "Babies bounce back." And she does. She has such determination, that she will fall down, go boom, cry for what feels like for ever. And then go on as if very little had happened.
Enter this weekend. Enter - bad mommy moment.
We went to a company picnic this weekend. It was fun, it was hot. I think E had a good time. What was to not like, wheeled around in a shaded stroller, people filling your cups as needed, and passing you little bits of yummy food. So it went well. Even the long drive to and from the picnic went well. But 2 blocks from our house. I look in the mirror in time to see E take a sip of her bottle, turn pail, and proceed to throw up on herself. GREAT! On the positive side, we were only 2 blocks from home. On the negative side... well really... I'm sure I don't have to explain it! But back to this weekend. And my bad mommy moment. We get home 2 minutes later and I scoop E out of the car seat and bring her into the house. I put E down in the bathtub for just a second so I could put some other things down and get ready to give her a bath. There was no water in the bathtub. And, she was covered in vomit. Seemed like a good contained spot for her. WRONG. First, she starts to crawl around the tub. Ok. Not so bad. I mean she can't get far right? WRONG. Then she slips, puts her hand in the drain. REALLY?!?!? Come on kid! I didn't think to put the plug in the drain, again, NO WATER, and she was OBVIOUSLY too big to fall in the drain. But I didn't think she'd be shoving her hand down it. So anyway, AGAIN, back to the bad mommy moment. She slips in the drain, and BONKS her head on the bathtub. HARD. I was in the room, I saw it happen, my heart sunk, I felt horrible. And I couldn't move fast enough to get to her. Not fast enough to prevent her from panicking and whipping her head to the SIDE, and then conking herself on the SIDE of the tub. Bad Mommy moment is in full swing now! I finally get to her. Scoop her up, and kiss her bumps. Trying to calm her down. She's still soaked. So we both climb into the bathtub, full clothes, and I turn on the water to clean her up. As if her world was not already spinning. The shower flip was still on, so instead of coming out in the tub, the water starts pouring down from above. E starts screaming bloody murder. At the top of her lungs. ABUSE! It was as if it was the straw that broke the baby's back. Daddy had come into the bathroom before I had tried to turn the water on. I sat on the floor of the tub, with E in my arms, fully clothed, soaked, and just looked up at him. I wanted to cry like E. But I'm mommy. So I pulled myself together, pealed her out of her dirty clothes, and finally accomplished filling up some water in the tub and cleaning her up. Daddy was able to sweep her up and take her to the living room, where, with a new diaper on, she decided it was safe to move on. And off she went. Back to crawling all over. Sitting up. Falling over, standing up, falling down.
It was when I realized my new mantra... Babies Bounce Back.
E has a big bruise on her forehead. And my heart still aches when I look at it. But E is still moving on. Even took her bath in the tub without any seeming leftover dislike for it, given the previous days disaster. So as I said. We've moved into a new phase. One which no matter how hard I try to protect her, I can't protect her from everything. She will get her fair share of bumps and bruises, cuts and scrapes. And I'll just have to try to limit what I can, and try my mommy magic to heal the rest.
To all the Mommies and Daddies out there, keep your heads high as our little ones start to fly. And as always, who dropped the pacifier!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
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