Because He’s Two

My youngest baby turns three in a couple of months. He’s really giving two a run for its money.

Today, he came home with a note from his preschool teacher that said the following:

Today I ate fairly good.

2hr nap.

Back to saying No.

Oh, and above that were the words, “Today I felt:” with corresponding mood selections: happy, frustrated, sick, scared, angry, sad and, the last one, with no corresponding picture, mischievous. Can you guess which one my toddler was today?

As any parent of a … well… I was going to try to narrow that age range down, but basically, any one who has ever had a child over the age of, lets say, 10 months knows… “Back to saying no,” is somewhat to be expected. He does say no. AND, his newest thing? He’s started giving people the stink eye. He downright glared at another toddler who dared walk by him in the produce section of the grocery store the other day. She swerved away and back to the safety of mom and dad.

Of course, we do the whole talking to him business, the occasional timeout and all that jazz. But, this is my third child. And I know this game. Sometimes, like when your dog swallows a chunk of play dough, you just have to wait for things to take their colorful course.

So, when I’m at my wit’s end and trying to figure out why my precious little boy is driving his teacher bonkers, pummeling his brother, then hugging him two seconds later or flailing on the ground because I refused to give him another glass of egg nog, I just recite the mother of toddlers mantra: ‘Because he’s two.”

What are your coping techniques for dealing with this lovely phase of childhood?

Giving Thanks

I’ve been watching as many of my friends have posted daily what they are thankful for, leading up to Thanksgiving.

Here’s my twist on that: What are you thankful for regarding your children? Your response can be sweet, sappy, sick or silly. Just give thanks for something!

I’ll start…
I’m thankful that, no matter what, my kids make me smile at least once a day.

 

Your turn!

Working Out… With Kids

My husband and I ordered one of those P90X style workout videos. It’s called Rev Abs and it’s made by the same Beachbody company that does P90X, Insanity and all those other workouts that make you sweat ’til you bleed. Last week was our first week in to the 90 day program. We were doing really well about getting up at the crack of dawn to workout. Until Friday. I slept in, so I had to workout Friday night. In front of my kids. Yeah.

My two youngest kids watched me as I worked out. They both stripped off their little boy shirts and tried to workout along with me. The skinny little arms of my seven and two year old boys flung around like wild. About three minutes in, they gave up and were sitting behind me on the couch. This is a bad angle to be viewed while working out. Because, this leads to questions and statements – statements and questions that are especially harsh when coming from the mouths of children.

My seven-year old son’s first question, “Mom! Why is your butt jiggling?”

Statement number two from the same child: “They’re doing jumping jacks wrong. Here, let me show you. Your hands are supposed to clap at the top. Don’t they know how to do a jumping jack?!”

And, a tie for my favorite (my favorite, of course, being the question regarding my jiggly butt): “Wow, mom and I were really watering during that workout! We watered A LOT!” Watering = sweating.

I think I’ll be doing today’s workout after the kids go to bed. It’s safer that way.

Coal for Christmas

My first grader told me today he hoped he wouldn’t be getting coal for Christmas. I asked him why he thought he would be. There were some mumblings and then he said something about the unfairness of getting coal in the first place. He said he thought it would be unlike Santa to actually give coal. I asked why. He said:

“Santa’s a pretty nice guy. It doesn’t sound like something he would do – give coal to kids. That’s just mean.”

“But,” I retorted,” What if those kids are on his naughty list? What should he do then?”

“Well, I think Santa should give them a letter or a card. Something like, ‘You’ve been bad and you need to be better, but I’m giving you a toy anyway.’” My son explained.

He then went on to explain the merits of coal and,  “how cool it actually would be if you’d get coal and it could transform into a car and stuff.” Yeah – he’s seven.

If anyone’s getting coal in my house, it’ll probably be me. Especially after last night.

My mother and I (Hi, Mom!) got into a heated discussion over the difference between, “expired” and “best if used by.” I managed to slip into a 15-year-old version of myself, just shy of screaming at the top of my lungs, “I hate you!” and slamming my bedroom door to crank up my stereo to the sounds of “Whoomp there it is” or some other mid ’90s jock jam. My kids were sitting at the dinner table during this debate. As I was getting to my pinnacle of frustration, my two oldest children totally called me out:

“MOM! You are being incredibly disrespectful to your mother! Honor thy father and mother!” They reminded me.

So, I took my butt downstairs and tried not to think about the fact that my kids just busted me for not setting a good example.

Santa, I understand if my stocking is the heavy one, full of coal. At least my son will have fun trying to make it transform…

Emotional Warfare and Other Soda-Related Evils

Let me start by saying – this all started with a soda.

My ten-year old daughter has a big report due tomorrow. Knowing I didn’t have time to cook, help her and tend to the other two kids – I decided to buy a pizza for dinner. I decided to treat the kids with a soda. I bought one 20 ounce Sierra Mist. My toddler was the only child with me when I made the purchase. He proceeded to scream the entire way home, demanding soda, “RIGHT NOW!” I explained he needed to stop whining or he wouldn’t get any soda… at all. He managed to survive the ride home.

When we got home, my seven-year old son, realizing I’d only purchased one 20 ounce bottle, hollered, “WHAT? Only one SMALL one?!” I told him he should be grateful for what he was being given and that soda was a treat – a treat he would not get if he didn’t behave.

I poured all three children a small cup of soda and went downstairs to set down my coat and purse. In the seconds it took me to accomplish that task, the two oldest children had already begun fighting. My ten-year old daughter was crying, saying something about her seven-year old brother saying he hated her. He claimed she did something to him, yada yada… he said, she said. I walked to the table, picked up both their glasses and dumped them out in the sink.

This small act on my part was met with the child-size equivalent of civil war. My son tore his glasses off his face, crumpling his homework in a ball. My daughter stormed off to her room. My toddler guzzled his cup of soda – the only one not taken away.  

Minutes later, as my first grader and I were having a long talk about acceptable behavior, my daughter appeared with a piece of paper. She threw it down in a huff and returned, dramatically, to her room. This is what she left for me.

Let me again say, this entire event began over a single, 20 ounce bottle of soda.

She returned a few minutes later with another piece of paper. This one asked me to “check yes or no” if I hated her. She left it in the same dramatic fashion. When there was no response on my part within her designated amount of time – she came back again. This time she asked if I had read her letters. I said, “Yes. I don’t respond to emotional blackmail.” She said, “Oh, okay then.” She then completely changed course, told me she loved me and sat at the table like the most pleasant fourth grader you’ve ever met. WHAT THE… ???

I’ve learned a few important things tonight:

Soda will not return to my home.

My kids really need a refresher course on what is acceptable behavior.

If this is what the tween years hold… I should start preparing now for life with a teenager.

The Minivan…. No Turning Back

When I bought my minivan, it was a conscious decision to delve into the title some refer to as, “Soccer Mom.” My friends all snickered about my purchase. Now, six years later, many of them also have minivans or at least big SUVs, having figured out for themselves the perks of driving a minivan. More on that in a moment.

I am sad to say, my minivan is on its last leg. I have had a ’02 Honda Odyssey for over half a decade. It has been a good little soldier. It’s had the occasional problem, but mostly, it’s been a great car. That was until last week. It began hesitating and lurching forward and all the tell-tale signs of transmission trouble. After some research, it appears it’s about a $4,000 fix. On a minivan with nearly 200,000 miles on it…. not sure that’s a good investment.

Anyway…. this post is an ode to my minivan. I have no idea how much longer we have together, but I’ll take it. I’d love some input on what should be my next car – used, of course. Once you’ve gone minivan, there’s really no turning back. But, I’m willing to hear you all out.

Reasons I love my minivan

1. What other vehicle can accommodate two adults, three kids, three dogs and all your stuff?
2. It’s like a giant purse.
3. Tinted windows – great for changing your children’s clothes in the backseat. (Or your own.)
4. The acceptance of the general public that this is essentially a cattle-carrier for kids – certain smells and messes are to be expected.
5. The built-in DVD player. This feature is only allowed in trips longer than 45 minutes. Of course, my kids still ask every time they get in…
6. The back row folds down so your purse minivan can fit even more stuff.
7. You can be the “Field Trip Mom,” taking a herd of kids in your car at once.
8. Extra seats for friends who want to come over a play at your house or for brave coworkers willing to take a chance riding in your mom-mobile.
9. Automatic sliding doors that open at the push of a button on your key ring.
10. The sisterhood of traveling moms – the camaraderie of other moms knowing we’re all on the same mission.

The Old Parent Teacher Conference

It’s that time of year again. It’s cold. Kids are getting out their snow pants (yes, if you live here in Alaska, you know they are) and deciding on their Halloween costumes. Parents are shuffling their schedules to attend parent teacher conferences.

We had both kids’ conferences yesterday. My ten-year-old daughter’s conference was first. She played outside with her brothers while we (her dad, step-dad and myself) heard from her teacher. Up until now, these conferences have always left us worried for our girl. She is eager to please, a delight in class, but struggles with reading. She’s had some extra help these last couple of years and the school she goes to is just awesome with doing everything they can to make sure she excels. All that hard work really paid off! Our fourth grader had her best ever report card this year! The teacher gave us samples of her work and it was just great to hear her teacher compliment her on her writing. They say fourth grade is a really crucial year for kids. I’m praying she’ll keep working as hard as she has this first quarter.

When we went to our first grade son’s classroom, he and his little brother followed us in. Our two-year old had rosy cheeks and a little Rudolph nose going. He was done playing outside, so we let him stay in the class, while we sent out seven-year old out to play. Our first grader also had a great report. His teacher had a rather interesting insight I had to share with you moms of boys. Apparently, when your precious sons are looking into your eyes when you’re talking to them – THEY ARE NOT LISTENING. She said she read a book about the differences between little boys and girls. When girls listen, they make eye contact. When boys are really listening, they are often busy doing something else – playing with something on their desks, etc. His teacher had sent a note home a while back asking if she could give our son gum in class. Odd, I thought, but I agreed – thinking it was for motivation. Turns out, having boys chew a piece of gum is often enough to distract them into truly listening and learning. Who knew?

While we were listening to our son’s teacher, I held my two-year old in my lap. He is very much into the not-listening, even if I gave him gum, phase. He was sitting there – trying to chat it up with me. I kept telling him he needed to be quiet and play with his tractor. He was quiet… for a minute. Then, out of the blue, while our older son’s first grade teacher was talking about what we could be doing at home with him, my toddler made a sound – a sound most parents would describe simply as, “A blow out.” Now – having heard, and felt, this occurring on my lap, I was concerned – mostly, because our two-year old is potty trained and no longer in diapers. Much like when encountering a bear in the woods, I chose the tactic of staying completely still. The sound continued. I, in embarrassment and fear, began to giggle. My husband, ex-husband and son’s teacher all looked at me. Apparently, they hadn’t heard the sound. I said, “he totally ripped one!” To which my toddler – in the way only a two-year old can – mimicked, “I ripped one!” I know you’re not supposed to draw attention to it… but I couldn’t stop myself if I tried. I laughed until I cried. The odd thing? His teacher looked completely unfazed. There must have been a chapter on that in her book.

How’d your conferences go?

Rated R for Crude Humor

If you got past the title of this post, you’re ready for some crude content. Today, I give you one thought and two pictures.

Thought first – I never, ever, in my life, thought I’d have to sternly say the words, “Well, then, you shouldn’t have your penis out in the kitchen!” <—- Said to my two-year old who was wagging it at me. After my response, he cried. Hopefully, this incident does not land him on a psychologist’s couch one day, dwelling on the shame he now associates with his manhood.

Also today, ( I know I said only one thought, but come on! Give me a break…) I stayed home with my ten-year old daughter who wasn’t feeling well. I made her read a chapter in a book and write a summary of it. The experience may leave her magically feeling better tomorrow… (It was nice mommy-daughter time, you know, when I wasn’t working and she wasn’t begrudgingly reading a book.)

Okay – now for show and tell. I made dinner tonight. My seven-year old son thought this was pretty funny.

I find it’s a good way to teach the kids a recipe (stuffed peppers) while also sharing the hazards of binge drinking.

Later, while continuing to make supper, I hurriedly checked my first grader’s homework. His reading assignment caught me off guard, to say the least.

For the record, the book, “One Big Rock,” was a lovely read.

The Fine Line Between Shy and Rude

My mother tells stories of my older brother and how shy he was as a child. He used to hide under her skirt when they’d go to the store. He’d cling to her leg when they visited her friends. He was more content to sit at her feet with a toy than he would be to run off and play with the other children. My middle child seems to be falling into a similar pattern.

Most people will tell you – most people who really know my son – that my first grader is nothing close to being shy. He’s the kid who would build model cities in his classroom and then explain to all his classmates every detail of his work. He’s the same boy who demands I roll the window down in the car so he can scream at people in the next car not to smoke.

Yet, when my first grader first encounters people he doesn’t know, he often dives to hide behind or under the nearest object. With a new babysitter – he might hide under the table, for example. Today, he came to my office for the last 15 minutes of work. He refused to look any one of my coworkers in the eye. He would not say hello. He walked past them and kept asking questions about this and that. I told him he was being rude and that he needed to at least say, “Hello.”

When we got in the car to drive home, I asked him why he wouldn’t talk to my friends at work. He said, “I’m shy!” I explained, again, the fine line between being shy and being rude. I told him he can say hello and then go hide if he needs to.

My big brother managed to conquer his shyness issues and I doubt anyone who knows him today would ever think he’d struggled with it. Like I said before, my boy is nowhere near shy once he’s met you. In fact, his kindergarten teachers last year said they had a hard time getting him to shut up!

How do you get your kids to get past shy behavior and make a proper introduction?

Mama’s Grumpy

What’s that expression, “When Mama’s not happy, ain’t nobody happy!”

Yeah… that pretty much sums up my entire weekend. I was in a mood. And no one was safe from my big, bad case of the grumps. The kids were… to say the least… not listening well. I’d had enough of repeating myself. And the kids knew it.

Around the time I put my toddler in time-out, they finally caught on that I was not pleased with their lack of listening skills, and they started trying to make up for their offenses.

My daughter came over to me and started rubbing my shoulders. She said, “Mama, don’t be stressed.” Then, my seven-year old son walked up with a butterfly he’d cut out of construction paper. He handed it to me saying, “Here’s something pretty for you to hold on to when you’re in a bad mood.” Yeah, apparently, I, occasionally, get in bad moods. When knew?

After a brief talking to with myself (and some Advil) I concluded I was being a total grump. What do you do when you get a case of the grumps?