Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
I love you
"Oh William!" is a phrase I must say over a thousand times a day. I can tell you without hesitation that this phase we are in now I either want to pick him up and smother him with kisses because he is the sweetest thing ever or I want to poke my eye out because he is...well, just smothering him isn't a very nice thing to do.
I think I have mentioned that lunch time is the absolute worst time of day around here*. William is either underfoot in the kitchen, tripping me at every turn while keeping up a running commentary about every single thought that goes through his head or tormenting his sister until she screams or cries. Amelia is either underfoot or screaming/crying in the other room because her brother has taken another toy away or pushed her down. Again.
And it doesn't end when the food hits the table ever. William dislikes the arrangement of food on his plate or the cup his milk is in. He takes issue with the fold of the sandwich I have lovingly created for him or the invisible spot on his banana. One hundred percent of the time he prefers my yogurt cup to his, even if they are identical. He stands up in his chair, blows bubbles in his milk, puts his feet on the table, puts his hands into his milk and smears it into his hair. He tips his empty plate and cup over and spreads crumbs and dribbles of milk everywhere. All which area certainly Against the Rules. And the ever popular "I have to go potty" line that just cannot be ignored.
Amelia needs help getting the food in her mouth in a timely manner and is frustrated she cannot do it all by herself. When she can't take anymore waiting or when I move further than an arm's reach from her chair, she shrieks loud enough to be heard a block away. She bangs on her tray and bounces Cheerios in every direction including down the heat register located in the general area of her chair. She smashes banana into her hands and then runs her fingers through her hair until it stands on end or drops the banana chunks down her shirt to be discovered six hours later at bedtime.
Somewhere in there today I had a bite of food almost to my mouth when I noticed it was baby food. Mmmmm.....rice cereal. I was so distracted I didn't notice what I was doing until it was almost in my mouth. Yuck.
After a particularly loud luncheon today, I was wiping off William thinking to myself "At least it is over. No more lunches until tomorrow. You survived and didn't eat baby food. That is what matters here."
William turned to me and patted my face with a jelly sticky hand and said "I love you Mama."
As frustrated as I was by his behavior moments before, I stood there quietly, willing myself to tell him I loved him too. In the moment, I regret to admit that love was the furthest thing from my mind and I struggled for a long pause to master my negative feelings.
Tired of waiting and now clean from my wiping, William replied to himself "and you love me too, Mama. Yes you do."
And you know what? It is the truth. Even when I have to dig deep to find it during a tantrum or deal with naughty behavior, I do love you William. More than words can say, baby boy.
*Blogging is a useful tool. After complaining about our lunch time now several days in a row, I now think it might be helpful to analyze what is happening that pushes my buttons/William's buttons/Amelia's buttons so I can make some changes so it is less frustrating for everyone. First up may be a pair of earplugs.
I think I have mentioned that lunch time is the absolute worst time of day around here*. William is either underfoot in the kitchen, tripping me at every turn while keeping up a running commentary about every single thought that goes through his head or tormenting his sister until she screams or cries. Amelia is either underfoot or screaming/crying in the other room because her brother has taken another toy away or pushed her down. Again.
And it doesn't end when the food hits the table ever. William dislikes the arrangement of food on his plate or the cup his milk is in. He takes issue with the fold of the sandwich I have lovingly created for him or the invisible spot on his banana. One hundred percent of the time he prefers my yogurt cup to his, even if they are identical. He stands up in his chair, blows bubbles in his milk, puts his feet on the table, puts his hands into his milk and smears it into his hair. He tips his empty plate and cup over and spreads crumbs and dribbles of milk everywhere. All which area certainly Against the Rules. And the ever popular "I have to go potty" line that just cannot be ignored.
Amelia needs help getting the food in her mouth in a timely manner and is frustrated she cannot do it all by herself. When she can't take anymore waiting or when I move further than an arm's reach from her chair, she shrieks loud enough to be heard a block away. She bangs on her tray and bounces Cheerios in every direction including down the heat register located in the general area of her chair. She smashes banana into her hands and then runs her fingers through her hair until it stands on end or drops the banana chunks down her shirt to be discovered six hours later at bedtime.
Somewhere in there today I had a bite of food almost to my mouth when I noticed it was baby food. Mmmmm.....rice cereal. I was so distracted I didn't notice what I was doing until it was almost in my mouth. Yuck.
After a particularly loud luncheon today, I was wiping off William thinking to myself "At least it is over. No more lunches until tomorrow. You survived and didn't eat baby food. That is what matters here."
William turned to me and patted my face with a jelly sticky hand and said "I love you Mama."
As frustrated as I was by his behavior moments before, I stood there quietly, willing myself to tell him I loved him too. In the moment, I regret to admit that love was the furthest thing from my mind and I struggled for a long pause to master my negative feelings.
Tired of waiting and now clean from my wiping, William replied to himself "and you love me too, Mama. Yes you do."
And you know what? It is the truth. Even when I have to dig deep to find it during a tantrum or deal with naughty behavior, I do love you William. More than words can say, baby boy.
*Blogging is a useful tool. After complaining about our lunch time now several days in a row, I now think it might be helpful to analyze what is happening that pushes my buttons/William's buttons/Amelia's buttons so I can make some changes so it is less frustrating for everyone. First up may be a pair of earplugs.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Sick? Or something?
We're sick around here. Or something. William ran a fever for a day or so and has been extra special crabby*. On this day, he went down early for his nap and ACTUALLY WENT TO SLEEP. It was Big News around here. He woke up about an hour later, crying. I went in to him and it became clear he wasn't done sleeping. Eventually he wiggled out of my arms and put his head back on his pillow, still crying. I covered him up and he sighed deeply and went to sleep. An hour after that, he woke up again crying. I picked him up and brought him to the living room. He snuggled into my side and promptly fell back asleep. Amelia woke up from her nap and I was forced to slide William off my lap to get her from the crib. I thought that movement and the noise of his sister playing with his toys would be enough to rouse him. I did what any parent would do:
I hurried up and took his picture.
Half an hour later, he was doing this
And a full hour later, he was doing this.
And because this makes me laugh. If your pet isn't sleeping well, there are now orthopedic options available. Just so you know.
I hurried up and took his picture.
Half an hour later, he was doing this
And a full hour later, he was doing this.He finally woke up just moments before John walked through the door. A four hour nap sure made for a peaceful afternoon.
*I was certain we had the H!N! flu at this point. Fever and I think he coughed twice. I had resigned myself that the whole family was going to be sick over the next week or so and made some mad runs to the stores to stock up on sick supplies (soup,cough drops, adult cough medicine, tissues, etc). In hindsight, it turns out to just have been a virus lasting just over a day. Oh well, I'm sure we'll pick up the flu for Christmas. We like to bring the drama at the holidays around here.
*I was certain we had the H!N! flu at this point. Fever and I think he coughed twice. I had resigned myself that the whole family was going to be sick over the next week or so and made some mad runs to the stores to stock up on sick supplies (soup,cough drops, adult cough medicine, tissues, etc). In hindsight, it turns out to just have been a virus lasting just over a day. Oh well, I'm sure we'll pick up the flu for Christmas. We like to bring the drama at the holidays around here.
And because this makes me laugh. If your pet isn't sleeping well, there are now orthopedic options available. Just so you know.Monday, November 9, 2009
Yes, they are related
Lunch is killing me around here. Actually, full days are killing me around here. I'm hoping this is a short lived phase, but I can see there are at least two things at play here:
1. William is working to give up his nap. I am fighting this because I need this time during the day for my sanity. Seriously. I enjoy his earlier bedtime (7:15!!) when he doesn't nap, but the nap is something I think both of us still benefit from. So, at this point, he goes down for a "rest"* everyday for at least an hour. So, he is...crabbier than usual these days.
2. William is figuring out there are things he can do by himself now and is extremely frustrated that we don't allow him to do EVERYTHING for himself. He is so proud when he does something like put all of his own clothes on, goes potty by himself, opens and shuts door, puts on his shoes, buckles the top portion of his seatbelt, puts away laundry, puts away silverware, and other chores around the house. Yet, we still don't allow him to cook with the stove, drive the car, walk in a parking lot by himself, or cut things with knives. I'm sure you'll agree that we are being completely unfair with this one.
So, we have a Mr. Independent who could really use a nap on our hands.
Lunch time is the worst. He is hungry, tired and...well, just that is enough. He is unhappy about not having my undivided attention, but I can't resolve the hungry part of the equation unless I make lunch. Quite the conundrum. So, I've taken to having him pull up a stool and watch what is going on while I talk to him and ask him questions. I throw silly questions in there to drag out what essentially could be a two minute conversation because he seriously has the same lunch every day (PBJ, banana, yogurt, carrot, milk).
Today before lunch:
Mama: I'm making you and sandwich. What kind of sandwich do you think you want?
William: Ummmmm...
Mama: Do you want a jelly and leaves sandwich?
W: NO!
M: Do you want a peanut butter and fingernail sandwich?
W: NO!
M: Do you want a color crayon and dinosaur sandwich**?
W: NO!
M: Do you want and peanut butter and lady bug sandwich?
W: NO! I don't like peanut butter!
M:?!!!???!?!?!?!?!?!?
Ummm...this kid loves peanut butter, so this was totally NOT the response I was looking for. I had to actually stop what I was doing and think about what he said because it was so unexpected (I know, this story is riveting, but this is how my days are. Jealous?) Suddenly I was overcome with deja vu as I remembered a similar conversation with his father a few years ago.....
John and I were at a housewarming party for a friend. We had just told a few people we were expecting a baby (who would be William). We didn't really have any name possibilities on the horizon, which was the subject of discussion between the small group of friends who did know. As another group of friends came into the party, the spouse of a friend shouted across the room "I'VE SOLVED YOUR PROBLEM! I'VE NARROWED THE BABY NAMES DOWN TO HARLEY OR HILLARY!"***
Without hesitation, John turned to me and said "Well, it's definitely not Hillary."
I think my mouth hung open for about a full minute before I had any type of coherent response. I turned to John and asked "So, regardless of gender, you are going to name our offspring Harley?"
Both men in my life are able to leave me completely speechless. It isn't an easy task to do.
*Although, when he doesn't sleep it isn't very restful for me. Between the crashes, clunks, and bangs that come from his room between "I HAVE TO GO POTTY!!!" announcements, I don't rest much.
**If you are going to try this tactic, I suggest you use care with your options or you could be stuck trying to figure out how to make a "racetrack and garbage truck" sandwich for lunch.
***And yes, this is how most of our friends here found out we were expecting.
1. William is working to give up his nap. I am fighting this because I need this time during the day for my sanity. Seriously. I enjoy his earlier bedtime (7:15!!) when he doesn't nap, but the nap is something I think both of us still benefit from. So, at this point, he goes down for a "rest"* everyday for at least an hour. So, he is...crabbier than usual these days.
2. William is figuring out there are things he can do by himself now and is extremely frustrated that we don't allow him to do EVERYTHING for himself. He is so proud when he does something like put all of his own clothes on, goes potty by himself, opens and shuts door, puts on his shoes, buckles the top portion of his seatbelt, puts away laundry, puts away silverware, and other chores around the house. Yet, we still don't allow him to cook with the stove, drive the car, walk in a parking lot by himself, or cut things with knives. I'm sure you'll agree that we are being completely unfair with this one.
So, we have a Mr. Independent who could really use a nap on our hands.
Lunch time is the worst. He is hungry, tired and...well, just that is enough. He is unhappy about not having my undivided attention, but I can't resolve the hungry part of the equation unless I make lunch. Quite the conundrum. So, I've taken to having him pull up a stool and watch what is going on while I talk to him and ask him questions. I throw silly questions in there to drag out what essentially could be a two minute conversation because he seriously has the same lunch every day (PBJ, banana, yogurt, carrot, milk).
Today before lunch:
Mama: I'm making you and sandwich. What kind of sandwich do you think you want?
William: Ummmmm...
Mama: Do you want a jelly and leaves sandwich?
W: NO!
M: Do you want a peanut butter and fingernail sandwich?
W: NO!
M: Do you want a color crayon and dinosaur sandwich**?
W: NO!
M: Do you want and peanut butter and lady bug sandwich?
W: NO! I don't like peanut butter!
M:?!!!???!?!?!?!?!?!?
Ummm...this kid loves peanut butter, so this was totally NOT the response I was looking for. I had to actually stop what I was doing and think about what he said because it was so unexpected (I know, this story is riveting, but this is how my days are. Jealous?) Suddenly I was overcome with deja vu as I remembered a similar conversation with his father a few years ago.....
John and I were at a housewarming party for a friend. We had just told a few people we were expecting a baby (who would be William). We didn't really have any name possibilities on the horizon, which was the subject of discussion between the small group of friends who did know. As another group of friends came into the party, the spouse of a friend shouted across the room "I'VE SOLVED YOUR PROBLEM! I'VE NARROWED THE BABY NAMES DOWN TO HARLEY OR HILLARY!"***
Without hesitation, John turned to me and said "Well, it's definitely not Hillary."
I think my mouth hung open for about a full minute before I had any type of coherent response. I turned to John and asked "So, regardless of gender, you are going to name our offspring Harley?"
Both men in my life are able to leave me completely speechless. It isn't an easy task to do.
*Although, when he doesn't sleep it isn't very restful for me. Between the crashes, clunks, and bangs that come from his room between "I HAVE TO GO POTTY!!!" announcements, I don't rest much.
**If you are going to try this tactic, I suggest you use care with your options or you could be stuck trying to figure out how to make a "racetrack and garbage truck" sandwich for lunch.
***And yes, this is how most of our friends here found out we were expecting.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Guess What?
William: Guess what?
Mama: What William?
William: Guess what Mama?
Mama: What William?
William: Guess what Mama?
Mama: What William
repeat, repeat, repeat
Argh.....
Also, new to the conversation is why? Why? WHY?
Mama: What William?
William: Guess what Mama?
Mama: What William?
William: Guess what Mama?
Mama: What William
repeat, repeat, repeat
Argh.....
Also, new to the conversation is why? Why? WHY?
Friday, November 6, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Out Takes 7 Months
Even though I manage to get good photos of Amelia almost every month, there are always a handful that...are not so good.
Amelia isn't interested in taking a picture with her brother. William solves the problem by yanking her leg so she can't crawl away.
Holding on tight so she can't get away (for the record, John was there assisting, which is why I kept on taking pictures.)
This one might be sweet if she wasn't playing with the cord from the mini blind. The cord that has the warning: DO NOT LET CHILDREN PLAY WITH THIS CORD written on it in big, bold letters.
Eating her 7 months old sign
Evidence of Daddy keeping Amelia safely in the rocking chair. A bigger and more difficult job than you might think.
Amelia isn't interested in taking a picture with her brother. William solves the problem by yanking her leg so she can't crawl away.
Holding on tight so she can't get away (for the record, John was there assisting, which is why I kept on taking pictures.)
This one might be sweet if she wasn't playing with the cord from the mini blind. The cord that has the warning: DO NOT LET CHILDREN PLAY WITH THIS CORD written on it in big, bold letters.
Little Ms No Fear. Again, Daddy was right there or I wouldn't have gotten this picture.
Eating her 7 months old sign
Evidence of Daddy keeping Amelia safely in the rocking chair. A bigger and more difficult job than you might think.
One of the kids' favorite toys. The doorstop.
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