Toddler Antics

Kids make you insane.

Not necessarily in that gibbering, banging-your-head-against-the-walls, strait-jacket kind of insane (well, maybe in small doses), but in the way that it warps the way you look at the world. The world a parent lives in is not the same world that a normal human lives in. We see things that are invisible to most people. We do things that make normal people scratch their heads in wonder. Our heads are constantly filled with bizarre fuzzy maths that would make the physics department at MIT weep. We tie ourselves in knots to make the world livable for ourselves and the future humans we are tasked with raising to adulthood.

Here are just a few of the strange behaviors that have become totally commonplace for my husband and myself since having a “tiny human.”

1. Normal people can drink out of cups, but we can’t. If we have a glass of some beverage, and we leave that beverage unattended for even fifteen seconds, then that beverage will end up spilled on the couch, the carpet, or possibly the ceiling. The fact that we have a cat plays in here, too, because our cat cannot abide an upright glass. So instead we drink out of bottles with lids, all the time, until the kid is asleep and the cat is preoccupied with grooming itself for the 10th time.
2. Normal people lock the bathroom door, but we don’t. I don’t even close the door all the way; I just rest it lightly against the frame. For some reason, the kid never wants my attention so much as when I’m trying to do my business.  And here comes that mental math I mentioned: I can lock the door (which will keep him out) or simply close it,  but then I have to suffer the slings and arrows of a tireless banging on the door to the chorus of “MAMA!? MAMA!?” Or, I can give him easy access, and put up with the lesser indignity of relieving myself in front of the tiny human while listening to him prattle on. (Generally, the prattle wins out over the banging on the door.)
3. Normal people can drive and listen to a song of their choosing, but we can’t. As soon as we put the car in reverse it starts.  “oh oh” song.  Or “Disney” music.  If I don’t play it I deal with the endless whining.  And when I do play it I have the battle of getting my sweet child to not ask to have the song repeated a gazillion times.  EACH song that comes on the tiny human wants to hear again. And again. Such fun.
4. Normal people check the thermostat maybe once or twice a day, but I have to check it more often. This makes me crazy, because the thermostat is not a thing that changes on its own, and I feel like an insane person looking at it as often as I do. But little kids love pushing buttons, both the metaphorical and the literal. Seriously, he had somehow managed to turn on the heat while it was 95 degrees out the other day. Luckily, I caught it before the house or any of us combusted from the heat. Because I check the thermostat more often than your dad does. Every time I walk past the thing, I check it.
5. Normal people know what “no” means, but we don’t. The word “no” means nothing in our house. For two reasons. First of all, it obviously means nothing to our child. We both say it and say it, but the little human keeps asking or doing the thing that had us saying “no” in the first place, so we clearly haven’t taught the meaning of this simplest of words properly. Then, there’s that thing that happens, you know, where you say a word over and over and over in rapid succession and, like a soggy Cheerio, it just kind of disintegrates in your mind? Like the syllables and the letters come apart and the meaning just evaporates? Where do words come from, anyway? What’s a language, for that matter? How are we even able to communicate at all?

There are more, but I have to go check the thermostat.

When the Kid Goes Back to Daycare….

Me at 7 months pregnant

” of course I’ll come back to work after maternity leave, ill be going mad at home” 

Me at 3 months from birth of child on returning to work

“Back to work? but I’ll miss everything, first steps, words,  .. And after paying child care I’ll be earning Ramen Noodles.. so whats the point?” 

But, my personality requires me to need some adult conversation .. and not just from my husband. Plus I prefer our bank account to be positive not negative so off to work I went and off to daycare my son went.  It went OK for a while. But as I talked about in a previous post, I pulled him and he stayed home with grandma.  It was great and at the time was the best thing for him.

But he is getting older now and more active.  Preschool is less than a year away. And as an only child I want him to understand that there is a word called “share” and yes you have to….

So a month ago he started daycare again.  New place.  New people.  A highly regarded place that I had been trying for 8 months to get him into.  I knew there would be an adjustment but man, separation anxiety is real and really hard to deal with.  The crying….I had to force myself to walk away on drop off’s and I would get into my car and be on the verge of tears that I was messing my kid up for life.  And then in the evenings when we picked him up he would come running to us faster than a cheetah after their dinner and would clutch onto us for dear life less we got the idea to leave him there…..and again the mom guilt would chime in big time.

But this week it is finally starting to get better.  He is adjusting.  The place we have him at is great and he will learn so much there.  He is starting to like it and the teachers are telling us he is doing so well.

But man, this past month has been hard.  When you have a kid they should come with a warning sticker that says “Buckle up buttercup.  The ride has just started and there WILL be bumps in the road.  And vomit every once in a while. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

All things in moderation…..

So last year I got in on the essential oil bandwagon. I love them.  I really do.  I now have things in my home like all natural laundry detergent and natural hand soap that have essential oils in it.  I have roller balls of essential oil blends that I wear as perfume or for help with everyday aches and pains. I have an awesome homemade muscle rub cream that I swear melts away my neck tension every night.  But I am also living modern life.  I am a working mom who eats things like Orange Chicken (so delicious) from Panda Express for lunch.  I let my son do things like drink water from the garden hose or eat day old cheerios off the floor.  I also still have a medicine cabinet filled with things like Tylenol and Claritin because you just never know when you will need them.

When I decided to start this website last summer it was to be an outlet for me to write about my new role as a mom and explore this new world of essential oils I was excited about. It was also a creative outlet for me as I grieved the sudden loss of my mom last summer.  And over the past year I have been feeling more comfortable in everything. My son is going to be two in a few weeks and I still love my essential oils.  I also can think about my mom now without dissolving into a pile of grief.  It has been a good year.

But….

There are so many fanatics out there on both the essential oil AND motherhood front.   Sometimes I want to shout, “REALLY?  You really did power yoga, cooked an organic breakfast AND magically healed your sick child from one application of essential oils all before 9 AM?”

The reality of life is that sometimes you feel like super mom and other days you just survive till the kids go to bed. Essential oils have supported my family in an amazing way this year and I love them.  But I also will still take my child to the doctor if he gets really sick.

It is called moderation people. In the end, we are all just trying to make the best decisions for our family while trying to fulfill our dreams and ambitions at the same time.

Now excuse me as I get my 3rd cup of coffee for the day.  It is Friday after all and I am running on fumes at this point.  Moderation in the caffeine department can start tomorrow…

Chopsticks and Toddlers

So last night we went out to dinner with some friends. Bryce was extra fidgety.  He wouldn’t sit in the highchair, wouldn’t sit in the booster, nor would he sit on our laps.  Thankfully we had a booth and he happily sat between us for the meal.  But not while sitting still.  Up and down, to and fro he went.  I tried everything to distract him.  Ipad? No.  Toys?  No.  Knife?  Yes. Wait, knife?!  Grab that from him! Ugh…

Finally I spied chopsticks sitting on the table and gave them to him. That worked.  For one minute. Until he decided to throw them at the older couple behind us.  Mortified, I apologized.  The guy, apparently a grandfather or at least a kid lover, came over to our table and gave Bryce his chopsticks back.  He bent over to his level, and smiled big for Bryce while saying hi little man.  Bryce, being the ham he is, loved the attention and started clapping and laughing, bringing even more attention our way. Soon three tables around us were clapping along with Bryce!  The rest of the meal Bryce happily clutched the chopsticks and never threw them again.

As a parent I will admit I do not keep calm during the storm. I am the parent that worries what others think, feel like I never can keep my kid behaved, and am anxious as soon as we leave the house.

Last night reminded me that most people at one point were in our shoes. That maybe, instead of seeing an out of control rambunctious toddler, they see a sweet almost 2 year old enjoying his time out with his parents and finding everything about the experience thrilling, including chopsticks being flung and then returned by a sweet couple.

This stage of life….it’s hard.  But it also has the most rewards.  Lesson learned.  At least until the next outing….

 

When Toddler Angst Strikes

Am I the only parent with a toddler who goes crazy when a parent is out of town on business? Brian has been gone since Monday and Bryce is progressively getting worse each day. He is fussier, clingier and not sleeping well at night. Last night he started screaming in his crib and would only fall back asleep when I put him in bed with me.  The weird part is when Brian facetime’s us Bryce refuses to talk to him! He sees it is daddy and walks away.  Like he is mad that daddy is not here so is giving him a hard time.

Brian comes home late tonight so hope Bryce will be back to his normal self soon. This morning he woke up at 5:00 AM and just wouldn’t settle back down.  So I will be drinking copious amounts of coffee today and just hope to get through.  I am grateful that it is at least Friday!

Here are photos of us from earlier in the week. His toothy grin is just precious.

The Language of Parents

Here are examples of things I say to other parents and then what I actually mean. The best part is that most people understand that I am talking about the long version without me actually saying it.  Anyone relate out there?

What I say: I’m trying to potty train my kid but we are not there yet.

What I mean: My son pooped in the shower the other week and recently peed on my freshly cleaned carpet.  He thinks an actual toilet should be where his toys are stored and has completely disassembled his “practice” potty. I am fine with using diapers.  What size do they go up to again?

What I say:  I am sorry I can’t go there today, my kid might fall asleep in the car on the way back.

What I mean: If my kid falls asleep for even 5 blocks on the way back, we will get home and I will be exhausted from whatever outing we just had but he will want to run around the neighborhood, and I will turn into crazy mommy.

What I say:  I’m sorry I can’t go out tonight. It’s been a long day with the kid. He got up at 5AM

What I mean: At 5AM I was woken up in a way that is inhuman. My son was screaming for us in his crib and wanted up. I then proceeded to attempt to make breakfast while son is running circles around me and the cat is going nuts because I haven’t given her food.  Breakfast ends up taking 30 minutes of rushing around grabbing food and drinks and cleaning up the ones that spilled and I didn’t get to even drink a cup of coffee. When I head out the door for work, I will have felt as if I worked a full 8 hour day and feel relieved that I get to go to my job which, to me, seems like a break since I can use the restroom at some point with no one screaming at me. After I get home, make dinner, do something that looks like a cross between eating and waiting tables, clean the house, bath the kid, brush his teeth, put PJ’s on him, read stories and wrangle him into bed, I then start the laundry and see it is already 9PM.  I’m now so tired my eye balls are stuck looking at the wall so I technically I cannot make it to my car and safely drive.  Have fun without me.

What I say: I have decided to “free range parent” with sleep training

What I mean:  I am too exhausted at night to deal with his screaming so I do whatever  it takes to get him to sleep.  You want to sleep with mommy and daddy tonight? Fine.  Just try to keep your feet out of my face.  You need driven around the block because you decide you just don’t want to fall asleep any other way tonight? I’ll get the keys.  Rock you to sleep while you hoard all 10 of your blankets around you because you suddenly decide one blanket is just not good enough? Fine.  I am learning that as a parent getting them to sleep is more important then how it happens. Because once they are asleep for the night you finally can sleep!

What I Say: We are getting a date night this Saturday.  I’m so excited

What I mean: Besides a “to do” list and talk about the kid, my husband and I haven’t had a real conversation in weeks.  Nor have we been able to sit at the same table and eat a hot meal without getting up 10 times each.  We haven’t seen a movie in over a year and we most likely will stay out too late and have to pay the babysitter overtime. When we come home we will feel like we took a vacation since we actually got to leave the house and relax while doing it.

Toddler Life

I vaguely remember my life pre-child.  Sleeping in, drinking hot cups of coffee, eating hot food while watching a TV channel other than Disney Jr.  Heck I think I even have memories of being able to read more than two pages of a book before passing out in exhaustion! Or talking to my husband about something other than our child, bills or our ever growing to do list around the house.

Parenthood is wonderful. It is also exhausting. We have entered the tantrum stage and I swear he knows to throw one just when they are least welcome.  Middle of aisle five at the grocery store because I wouldn’t let him climb the store shelves? Of course.  Out at the park because we need to leave? A given. Before or after his bath because he hates transitions? Why not.  And trying to put a diaper on him lately is like wrangling a snake.  He hates it and won’t sit still. He won’t use a potty either so wrangling him it is. I have taken to whatever distraction necessary to change his diaper.  Want to play with mommy’s phone? No, OK, how about this Ipad? No? OK, here are a pair of scissors…..ugh of course those would peak your interest….

 

Because wrapping paper apparently makes the best cape EVER

 

 

We have had to remove EVERY bar stool from our kitchen because he has become fixated with climbing them and then onto the kitchen counters. Which that alone is bad but then he proceeds to throw everything off the counters onto the floor, which in turn makes me a hysterical mess….it has not been a pretty sight at times in the Thomas household lately.

He is already fascinated with how things work and wants to fix everything.

 

 

But when the going is good it is amazingly beautiful.  He loves to cuddle up on our laps now with his blankets and will just turn around randomly to give us a hug.  I melt every time he does that.  His mental capacity to figure things out is growing leaps and bounds everyday. He is talking more.  Understanding more.  He understands what we say so much now that we have started spelling out words we don’t want him to hear. The problem with that is mom is NOT a great speller, apparently….

He has a slight blanket hoarding problem

 

He will be 22 months in a few days. Almost two years old.  I am continually grateful that he has come into my life and even though we have a lot of the these crazy days in our house currently, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  If you are in the thick of toddler life like me, remember you are not alone.  And people tell me there is this thing coming up in a few years  where the kid goes to this place for the whole day and you get the house to yourself. It is free and they are taken care of by a whole team of people. I hear it is called school…..

Maybe Reality Really Does Bite

I turned 37 years old yesterday. I didn’t think it was going to bug me. I mean, 40 is the new 30, right?

So I should be OK with turning another year older.  But I am a mess.  It isn’t the whole “I’m so damn old, woe is my aged self” thing that has me reeling, although I do confess feeling kind of old of late. It is the nagging “shouldn’t I feel like a dang grown up by now?” question. I am like, way far into this dog-and-pony show, right? At what point, exactly, will I feel like I am where I should be?  When will I feel like I have this life thing figured out?

I briefly considered diving into a good old-fashioned midlife crisis – but dipping my toe in those waters just doesn’t appeal to me. For one, I can’t drink a 21 year old under the table anymore, let us be honest here. And those clubbing clothes of my younger days? Let’s just say there is a reason there is not a junior clothing section for moms.

So the midlife crisis is off the table, which is for the best as I don’t have time to self-destruct just now. There’s really no spare time to blow everything up when you are just hoping to get your kid and yourself out the door with lunch packed and pants on both of you, seriously!

But what then? Or what now, I mean. Here I am being all old (but not), coming to terms with the idea that maybe, JUST maybe, this is all there is.

Maybe I am not destined to change the world, or even my little corner of it. There is no cosmic line to cross or switch I have to find to make things “the way they are supposed to be.” No fairy godmother is going to come donk me on the head and pronounce that I am now fully qualified for adulting and open a door to some wonderland land of perfection for me.

And then this thought hit me last night. Here in 2016 and MANY years away from my college degree, I have come to the realization that I’ve been on this planet for 37 years and still cope with stressful situations primarily through nacho consumption and wine drinking.

Maybe growing up is overrated. Pass me the nachos please.

Omi Saves the Day

Back in December my son got kicked out of daycare for biting. He is 1 years old. Someday I will laugh at this but at the time I thought the world was ending with the amount of stress it gave me.  What to do, on top of the holidays, made me a mess. And people don’t have much sympathy when they hear it is a behavior issue.  The judging I felt I got from others plus the unsolicited advice from them was too much at times.  I am not in a situation where I can just quit my job and stay home.  But I also knew daycare was not a good fit for him.  He needed more attention and less of a schedule.  More time to explore and just be a kid.  Nanny?  More money than we could afford.  So what to do?

We are very lucky that my mother-n-law offered to watch him for us. So currently my mother-n-law lives with us during the week and watches him.  And in just one month he has made so much progress.  He rarely bites anymore and has calmed down.  He actually can concentrate on the task in front of him instead of bouncing around from one thing to another.  He smiles more. He sits on my lap and gives me hugs when I get home instead of the tears I was getting before. It is like he is a different child.  And of course I love the pictures she sends me during the day of him.  Their relationship is special and you can tell he adores her.

Upon reflecting on this arrangement of course I have mom guilt that I am not there. Every mom –working or not – has mom guilt. But I realize these days of him being with his “Omi” are precious. You see, she is his only grandparent. My parents are both deceased as well as Brian’s dad. “Omi” is it.  I was so close to my “Omi” growing up and am SO grateful that he is getting to know at least one of his.

Life has a way of pushing us where we need to go whether we are ready or not. Lesson learned.

Mommy Wars

I have come to realize many things since having a child. For example, I now know that I can read “Dr. Seuss Green Eggs and Ham” seven times in a row without going insane. That no matter what people say, throw-up is throw-up and I will never get used to being thrown up on, which is usually after I have already bathed my child. I am a really fast diaper changer. And it’s true: love grows with your child.

But perhaps one of the biggest realizations I’ve made as a relatively new parent (my son turns 2 in May) is how incredibly judgmental other parents can be. It hurts. And it happens way more than I thought it would.

You, the woman at Kohl’s who stared at me as my child threw a temper tantrum because he wanted to push the cart instead of sit in it, you judged me.

Friend who saw I have TV on almost all the time. You judged me.

Parent at the park who saw I did not pack an organic, free-range, all-food-groups-represented, no-dessert lunch complete with sandwiches cut in cute little shapes, and instead fed my child cold pasta noodles and (gasp) potato chips? You judged me.

Friends who tell me how to correct my child? You judged me.

Not always out loud, of course. But internally, they were smug. They thought things like I would never have children who would behave in such a manner in public. Or, Doesn’t she know the American Academy of Pediatrics recommends no TV until the age of 2? Or, How can she possibly be feeding her children that crap? Has she not read any of Michael Pollan’s books?

And what’s worse, now that I’m a parent, I am realizing internal smugness isn’t so internal. I know when I’m being judged. I can sense it, even when nothing is being said out loud. It’s in the look. The double-take. The whisper to the companion they’re with.

It’s hard not to care about what other people think. That quiet judgment can sting, especially on days when my nerves are shot and my child is in the worst mood — a combination that often leads to a situation judge-worthy by many.

Pre-child I will admit I thought I would be better. That I wouldn’t do that.  Ha! How naive I was. Parenting is like jumping on a rollercoaster mid-flight and trying to buckle up while going 60mph.

Pre-child: I was going to cloth diaper.
Post-child: Ha! I go through Pampers like they are water.

Pre-child: No TV until age of 2 and then only 30 minutes a day.
Post-child: Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Need I say more?

Pre-child: Only organic, healthy, homemade food.
Post-child: My kid sometimes eats day old cheerios off the floor.

Pre-child: Public tantrums are unacceptable.
Post-child: Removal of the child is only sometimes doable; predicting when a tantrum is going to strike is often impossible.

Pre-child: Complaints about childrearing and its hardships annoyed me (this was your choice, no?) and saddened me (parenthood is supposed to be a wonderful thing!).
Post-child: Parenthood isn’t wonderful 100 percent of the time.

My day-to-day routine isn’t what I envisioned it would be. Some of the things I imagine I’m judged on now are minor, others, a little more major. But mostly they are simple faults and I now know that they don’t make me a bad parent. Sometimes I leave dirty diapers on the changing table. My son’s socks don’t always match. I forget to brush my son’s teeth. I use TV as a way to take a breather. I’m sometimes too easy. I’m sometimes too hard. I sometimes make the wrong decision, give the wrong punishment, ask too much, ask too little. But within all these minor and major faults is a singular truth: Most days, I’m doing the best I can. And I honestly believe that’s a truth that can be applied to most parents: Most days, we’re all doing the best we can.

I guess what I am trying to say is that parenting is difficult enough – please do not add to it.