Luke's Newest Skill

He had a spotter, but he pretty much did it on his own, in a matter of three minutes. Lunch was the motivation. For the record, he still doesn't really hands-and-knees crawl yet, but that hasn't stopped him. He generally makes a good start on hands and knees, then resorts to the army crawl because it's just faster. He has also already fallen on his face several times after pulling up and then letting go with both hands and taking a step. I keep telling him he should practice balancing first, but apparently he doesn't have time for that. He is one busy little person.

The Easter Bunny: Just Another Load of Hooey

It turns out that when I had misgivings about Ella perceiving Santa as a strange old guy coming into our house, I was spot on. This is the conversation that occurred in our house last night, starting at supper and finally ending at bedtime.

Dave: Ella, do you know what we are going to do Saturday night?
Ella: What?
Dave: We are going to leave a little salad on the table when we go to bed and the Easter Bunny is going to come and eat it.
Me: (in my head) What in the world is he thinking?!
Ella: (thinking hard) Daddy, you're just tricking me!
Laughter, followed by:
Ella: I don't wike Easter Bunnies.
Dave: (laughing) I know you don't.
Then there was more worrying and repeating of salad and Easter Bunny, etc. Fast-forward to bath time.

Ella: I'm going to eat all of the salad so the Easter Bunny can't have any!
Me: You don't have to worry about the Easter Bunny; he's not coming in this house.
Ella: Mommy, I want you to sleep with me all night long so the Easter Bunny doesn't come in.
Me: Dave! Get in here and fix this!
Dave: Ella, do you know what I'm going to do if the Easter Bunny comes in? I'm going to kick him in the bootie.
Me: (in an undertone to Dave) I was thinking more like telling her you made it up and it's not real, not telling her that we will kick animals.

A few minutes later.
Ella: Mommy, I want you to shut the door really tight so the Easter Bunny doesn't come in.
Me: The Easter Bunny isn't real. Daddy was just pretending, just like he was pretending that he had a Wocket in his pocket (also at bedtime; also not appreciated). If you see an Easter Bunny at the store, it's just someone dressed in a costume. There are real bunnies, and people like to look at and talk about bunnies at Easter, but there is no Easter Bunny and no one is coming into our house.

It continued until I finally reminded her that I would come to her or she could come to my bed if she woke up scared during the night. She did. Four times between 9:30 and 1:30, when she finally got in bed with me. She didn't wake up again after that, but she did sleep velcroed to my body. For once, I did not feel bad that there might not be room in the bed for Dave.

Dave did redeem himself at bedtime when I heard him talking to her about Jesus and Heaven. This morning, Ella told me that her memory verse for this week is "Jesus is risen!" I told her that was exactly right, and that's what Easter is all about.

She will get an Easter basket Sunday morning, but she picked it out herself at Target (of all things, she picked the Spiderman basket). She picked out her own chocolate bunny, though she doesn't know that I bought it. We also picked out a basket and some plastic eggs for Luke, and she knows I plan to fill them with Puffs since he can't have chocolate yet. We will dye eggs Saturday morning. She's having a party and an Easter egg hunt at school today. We will go to church Sunday morning - but we do that every week.

While I haven't put as much emphasis on the death and resurrection (yet, becuase she's not even 3) as I did about the birth at Christmas, she does understand that this holiday is about Jesus. So, the Easter Bunny myth has been dispelled, but I expect to spend many more nights reassuring her that no one will be coming into our house.

My Birth Wish List

Eight months removed from Luke’s delivery (!) and with my sister’s pregnancy, I’ve been thinking a lot about birth. I’ve been reading birth stories and research and ACOG statements. It’s a huge interest of mine, and I think I’m on some sort of therapeutic path to heal my hurting soul about the birth that I missed. I’ve been grieving what I missed.

Yes, I am healthy and I have healthy children and I am forever grateful for that. But, yes, I am one of those women to whom the process matters. It matters a lot.

Last night, I was talking to Dave about my frustration with the medical community’s attitude toward birth in this state and the serious lack of options a birthing woman has here. We got on the subject of birth plans, and he asked me about mine. I didn’t even know where it was anymore since it never mattered anyway. He told me I should post it on the blog. I’m still not sure if he was making fun of me, but it got me thinking that it might be good for me to write it out again.

I don’t really like the term “plan” so much because that just seems to beg for something to go awry, so I’m calling mine a wish list. Truly, that’s what it is now, because I’ll likely never have another “birth”.

So, this is my wish list for the fictitious birth I’ll never have.

Labor
I would like to labor in quiet with the lights low and with the freedom to move as I please. Please enter the room quietly and please address me in a quiet voice before touching me.

I would like minimal interruption, so please address as many questions as possible to my support person.

Birth
I would like to push my baby out of my body in the position of my choosing, at my own pace.

I would like to catch the baby myself, so please do not touch me or the baby without asking.

I would like to deliver the placenta without assistance.

After Birth
I would like to hold my baby skin-to-skin and nurse immediately, so please postpone the newborn procedures until I am ready.

I would like to wait until the umbilical cord has stopped pulsing before cutting it.


That’s it. It seems so simple when I write it out.

Randomness

It's been a busy few days with a sick one and a zoo field trip, but the extra time at home let me get some new pictures.

I've been wearing Luke a lot because he hasn't been feeling well, so Ella has been wearing her baby on her back while she works, too. In this picture she's sporting a backpack carrier because it's the most similiar to my Babyhawk, but she also has a sling and a wrap. I don't use a sling because the one-shoulder carry isn't comfortable for me, but she likes hers because it's easy for her to put it on herself.

Here she is resting on her new blanket and pillow after our trip to the zoo. She very nearly put herself to sleep listening to Floyd Cramer while the babies (her students) napped on their nap mats. They nap face down, completely covered so that she has to lift the corner of the blanket to tell them to stop "squirming and wigglwing". Sometimes she has to straighten the blankets if they squirm too much.

This is what we found last night when it was her turn to get pajamas. I always take Luke out of the tub first, dry and diaper him, and leave him in the crib to play. Ella laughed and lauged at him (which he thought was hilarious) and then she asked me, "Do ducks do that?" She meant, do ducks baby-gnaw crib rails, and I told her I didn't know but this one does.

Caught! Playing in Ella's tea things. She still doesn't know, but he loves to sort through her basket of dishes. I'm pretty sure these would be off limits, but she did let him play in the baskets of food from her kitchen yesterday.

I just realized in looking at these pictures that Luke has Dave's eyes; they scrunch up and turn downward at the corners when he smiles.

Fundraising Success!

In my post about the Trike-A-Thon, I said that I would consider it a success if Ella asked one person for money and if she rode her tricycle at the Trike-A-Thon. She did both! I had to help her ask for money, but she did it. Her teacher said she sat on the trike and watched the other kids for a few minutes, but then she rode for about half an hour. She was really excited about it, and even traded trikes with one of her friends for a few minutes! That really surprised me.

Thanks to a very generous anonymous donation, Ella met the fundraising goal I set for her the first day and she ended up raising a total of $240 (excluding what Dave and I donated). The grand total for the school was $3180. It was a huge success for St. Jude's!

The H. Luke Update
Ella, Luke, and I were in their room after the bath the other night and I was dressing Ella while Luke played in the crib. Ella and Luke were laughing at each other through the bars, and he just pulled himself up to his feet like he's been doing it for years. He was so proud! The next morning when Dave went in there to get him, he was standing at the rail waiting for him. He has also realized that he can move from his stomach into a sitting position by himself, and while he isn't crawling in the traditional hands and knees way - he is going all over the place using the army crawl, pulling himself along with fists and elbows. And, with all this new mobility, he's finally sleeping again and a lot more content.

He isn't really making any recognizable sounds, except the occasional "Heeey", but he does engage in back and forth interaction and he mimics us. This morning, Ella was coughing and he looked up at her and coughed back, then smiled, waiting. She coughed at him. He coughed back. This went on for several minutes. Then I was telling Grandmother about it when we got to her house, and he started coughing again and looked expectantly at Ella.

Watching kids learn really amazes me.

More About Spiritedness

I’ve almost finished reading Raising Your Spirited Child (Kurcinka), and I’ve been putting some of the suggestions into practice. For example, as Ella melted down Sunday evening out of frustration and exhaustion, I scooped her up and plunked her into the bathtub. One of the suggestions in the book is to use water when they start to lose control – water tables, baths, playing in the kitchen sink, etc. - because it is soothing to them. Initially, once she regained enough composure to use her words, she fussed at me because she didn’t want to come inside but she settled down and enjoyed the bath. She was a much happier child when she came out of the tub, and I put her on the fast track to bed – which is what she desperately needed.


I have found that, more than the practical suggestions, the book has given me a better understanding of her personality and how her mind and body work so that I can better handle it when she’s moving into the “red zone” – i.e. Out-of-Control Meltdown. I have a better understanding of the things that trigger her move to the red zone and what I can do to help her stay in the “green zone” – that peaceful place where she is in control of her emotions/body/words.

I have also learned a lot about myself and how my interactions with her can either move us both to red or keep us in green. As the adult, it’s obviously my job to maintain control of myself so I can help her learn to recognize when she’s losing control and learn how to regain/maintain control of herself. So not only do I have a better understanding of what triggers send her spiraling out of control, I also know what triggers send me spiraling out of control. Not so surprisingly, we have a lot of the same triggers: too many transitions, lack of quiet time to ourselves, invasion of personal space, and abrupt changes of plans, just to name a few.

I’ve learned that we are both introverts; loosely paraphrased, that means that we get our energy from spending time alone or with a close loved one (i.e. she can recharge by playing by herself or by having quiet time with me), and being with large groups or with people we don’t know well is exhausting for us. In complete contrast, extroverts get their energy by being around other people and they find that having too much time alone is exhausting. I took the survey for her and for myself, and both of us only scored 1 out of 9 on the extrovert list and 9 out of 10 on the introvert list. This didn’t surprise me, but I have a much better understanding of what it means now – of why I am like I am and why I often find myself so drained at the same times that she is struggling.

Case in point, a couple of weeks ago we had an open house scheduled for Sunday afternoon (our house is on the market, but that’s another story). We had a loose plan to go to church, eat lunch afterward in the fellowship hall, and then find somewhere to camp and watch basketball for a few hours. I had prepared Ella for this, with the assumption that we would all be camping somewhere together. On the way to church, Dave suggested we go to Buffalo Wild Wings to watch the games after church. Thinking of transitioning Ella, I assumed he meant we would just go there after we had lunch at church, and he assumed I knew he meant we would skip lunch at church and eat there. Regardless, I needed to transition Ella. Unfortunately, she happened to be present when we reconciled that difference, and she picked up my weird energy as I struggled to adjust to a different plan than what I had in mind. We decided to let her go home with Grandmother (She had been asking to, but she balked when she felt me waver about lunch.), so we went upstairs to find her. Grandmother already had her plate, so I got in line to fix a plate for Ella, still not sure if Dave and I were going to stay and eat or leave and watch basketball. I was concerned with making sure Ella was okay with going home with Grandmother and I thought it might be easier for her if we stayed to eat, but I knew Dave really wanted to leave and watch the games. In the background, Luke was fussing because he needed a nap. We were standing in line and Ella walked up to me and bit me. Hard, on the soft part of my thigh. She doesn’t generally bite, but she has bitten me just like that once before. I immediately bent down and corrected her, which led to tears, and more stimulation for me. As I stood there in the loud, bright (fluorescent lights really bother me sometimes) fellowship hall with a crying child on my shoulder and a fussing baby in the background,  feeling completely frazzled, I glanced up at what seemed like an impossibly long line to fix her a plate and I nearly lost it. There was too much talking, too much noise, too many people too close together, too much light, too much everything. I looked at Dave and said, “I have to get out of here. I want to leave.” I asked one of the ladies at the front of the line if I could go ahead of her to fix Ella a plate and she graciously agreed. I got Ella set up and reassured that I wasn’t leaving her forever and would be back to Grandmother’s to pick her up later, scooped up the now crying Luke, and practically ran out of there.

In talking it over with Dave, who thought I was really losing my sanity, I reached a few conclusions, thanks to my recent reading. I had had way too little sleep in the nights leading up to this, and that alone seriously impeded my ability to cope with the change of plans and the extra stimulation that a fellowship lunch usually brings. I was seriously stressed out about the open house, and had been for days, though it took me a while to realize and vocalize it. I wasn’t stressed about keeping the house clean, as Dave first believed when I was struggling to articulate – I was stressed about the thought that strangers were going to be walking through it and I was VERY resentful that I could not go home when I desperately needed a nap. I had not had enough quiet time to myself to recharge. I was one big, frazzled nerve ending trying to help another little frazzled nerve ending cope with all the same stresses. I know that she bit me because she was over-stimulated, too. The only other time she has bitten me (aside from the teething phase), it happened the exact same way, in the fellowship hall at church.

The good news is that I got out of there before I really lost control, and I had a calm afternoon while Ella had a calm afternoon playing at Grandmother’s. She decided to spend the night, and I decided to let her. I camped out on our couch, nursed Luke to sleep, and did not move for three hours when I got up to go to bed. The next morning, I was good to go again, and so was Ella.

I can’t say that the book is teaching me anything I didn’t already know on some level, but it is making me feel less like a socially inept freak and more like a normal person because now I have a better understanding of why I am so uncomfortable around crowds and strangers. It’s also helping me recognize when we (Ella and/or me) are headed for disaster so that I can take appropriate steps to mitigate it before we get beyond the coping point. I definitely think Ella is responding well to the things I’ve been practicing because she’s been doing a much better job of using her words when she’s upset rather than defaulting to an all-out, shrieking, tearful meltdown.

I think the book is worth the read, but I’d suggest you read How To Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk, by Faber and Mazlish, first. I’ve found that Raising Your Spirited Child suggests a lot of the same methods for helping your child learn to communicate (with words rather than shrieks, teeth, hands, etc), but How To Talk lays it out in a lot more detail with a lot more practical application.

I never really considered that I would learn so much about myself on this Great Parenting Adventure; it’s pretty liberating, if not disconcerting at times.

We Heart Soap

I have been trying to spend a little more one-on-one time with Ella lately (when she lets me, but more about that in a minute). The child loves soap, so we decided to make some ourselves. I can't take credit for the idea. Ella's friend from church and her very creative mother made little soap snow globes to give as gifts this past Christmas, and Ella has been using it in the tub lately. She also loves the AVON body paint soaps, which she calls deodorant and insists that I not rinse off before getting her out of the tub.

I Googled it, of course, and made my weekly trip to Michael's (We might go broke keeping EGR in craft supplies; she's quite the painter.) for the ingredients. It's easy-peasy.

Glycerin (I got clear with olive oil because she could use the extra moisture with all the scrubbing she does.)
Color
Scented oil
Plastic molds (They make them especially for soap, but I bought candy molds because the shapes were more fun).

We melted the glycerin in the microwave, she dropped in the colors and scent, and I poured it into the molds. We made flowers, lions, monkeys, elephants, bears, a princess, a castle, and a carriage. We had so many, she decided to give some as gifts. I put away a handful in the bathroom drawer so I'd have extra when she runs out. I already had to give her a new one because she uses them up quickly. While we were cleaning up the mess (Did I mention that soap is self-cleaning?) I found some other candy molds that I didn't know I had, so next time we are going to make teddy bears for her friends at school. We took a picture (she arranged them on the towel for me); aren't they pretty? I think I had as much fun as she did, and I'm already scheming gift ideas.

I tried to have a girls' day with her and Aunt Becca yesterday, but she insisted that we bring Luke along. The plan was to drop Luke and Dave off at the house after church and pick up Aunt Becca for shopping. However, Ella informed me that "Luke will cry before we get back and we need to bring him with us because he's a baby." So, we brought him with us.

That's how it usually goes when I try to spend time with her by herself. She wants him to be there, too. He was napping the day we made soap, and she regretted afterward that he didn't get to sit in his high chair and watch. Occasionally, she doesn't want him around if she wants the tub to herself or for me to cuddle her at bedtime, but most of the time she wants him right there with us.

The Mommy Mule

Somehow, during Ella's infancy, Dave started calling me The Mommy Mule. I tried to be offended about it because it hardly seemed fair that he got the cool name of Knee Donkey, but I had to be a mule. Then I started thinking about all the crap I haul around all the time and decided it pretty much fits. Thus, when Dave came home last night and found us like this in the kitchen, he greeted us with reference to The Mommy Mule.

Luker Man has been skipping his late afternoon power nap lately because he's too busy learning to crawl/walk/crawl/we really don't know which he will do first. At any rate, skipping that power nap makes him one fussy baby in the evenings. Last night I decided, instead of listening to him fuss as I rushed around trying to do all the things and comfort him while the overall stress level of the whole house rose, I would tie him on in a back carry. 

I believe Ella was a few months older when I started wearing her on my back, but I've been thinking Luke might be long enough and strong enough for it to work, so we gave it a try. He wiggled and bounced for the first few minutes, and then settled down when he realized he could reach all sorts of new things while I worked. Then we needed to include Ella in the picture taking.

Putting him on my back was a very good idea, because he finally got that power nap. He slept for about twenty minutes while I finished making supper. 

I tried to lay him down without waking him. That didn't happen, but he did wake up happy and ready to gobble bites of chicken finger and sips of juice. He made it happily through bath time and slept better last night than he has in the past few (sleep begets sleep, you know).

Here's to babywearing for making a would-be hectic evening calm and relaxing. I think I've mentioned before that I love my Babyhawk carrier.

Luke's First Crush

I have to admit I was unprepared for this. I mean, I know boys have testosterone surging through their bodies from the moment their gender is decided, but I really wasn't prepared for my son to have his first crush on a girl at the ripe old age of 7 months.

He's in love. Head over heels, can't be distracted, in love. She's cute. Blonde, big blue eyes, curvy, petite -some might even say pixie-ish. Maybe a little too scantily clad for my liking, though.

Luke is crushing hard-core on Tinkerbell. It's so bad, I feel like I need to buy him a poster to tape on the ceiling above his bed.

It makes sense, of course, that because she's an older woman he met her through his big sister. He loves it when Ella wears her Tinkerbell nightgown or t-shirt. He can't get enough of Tink on the folding chair in the living room. It's not good enough to sit in the chair, he has to pull up and stand there looking at it so he can touch her. We have to hide it from him to get him to play with his own toys. It's serious, and it's just Tinkerbell, too, because there are two other fairies on that chair and he pays them zero attention.

I'm really thinking we might need to get him a Tinkerbell blanket so he will have something of his own with her face on it. Big Sister is getting a little tired of his new obsession.

Fundraising

I already know that I'm the kind of parent who is more likely to make a donation to the school than peddle the wares all around the neighborhood to raise money (for many reasons which I will not discuss at this time because that's not the point of this post). I also know that should an opportunity arise where the kids feel strongly about the cause for which money is being raised, they will be primarily responsible for raising the money (i.e. it will be their decisions whether they peddle the wares, and I hope they make them for better reasons than winning the prizes). I recognize the value of teaching my kids about raising money and giving money for good causes. As with most everything I want to teach them, I know that I need to start now.

We already model giving in a variety of ways. Ella has seen us tithe when she joins us in church for "big music" and she has even insisted on putting money in the offering plate herself. She understands that when her clothes do not fit her anymore, we pack them up and give them to someone else who needs clothes. She already has a very generous spirit, offering to share her imaginary whatever we have run out of and need to buy at the grocery store this week.

Her preschool has presented us with a great opportunity to talk about raising and giving money. When I first heard they were doing a trike-a-thon, my initial reaction was not to be bothered with fundraising. Then I learned that they are raising money for St. Judes Children's Hospital - a cause that has always touched my heart. I decided that we will partcipate in more than just the trike riding part.

Last night, I set about explaining the trike-a-thon and that we are going to raise money to help kids that are very sick and have to be in the hospital a long time. Understanding the way she works, I expected her reaction. She had three concerns, in this order.
1. "I don't want them to ride my tricycle." -  "Them" being her friends at school, and I explained that everyone will have their own tricycle and helmet.
2. "I'm not going to be sick?" - I explained that these kids aren't sick with an ear infection or a tummy ache, they are very, very sick and they have to stay at the hospital for a long time to get medicine in their IVs.
3. "I don't have any money! I used all my money in my piggy banks!" - I told her that she just needs to think about it a little and maybe we can ask some people if they want to give money to help the sick kids.

Later in the evening, she told me that Cinderella, who has been substitute teaching her students, is sick so Ariel has to teach the babies. And, she told me that she has some money to give for Cinderella because she is very sick. So, I think we are on the right track. If you live nearby and have enough regular interaction with Ella that she will actually talk to you (they are few and far between), don't be surprised if you are asked for money for the sick kids.

On that note, if you are asked or you are reading this post as the solicitation it's about to become, please do not feel obligated to give money if you aren't moved to do so. I absolutely believe in giving, but I absolutely do not give to anything that doesn't move my heart and I don't expect anyone else to do so either.

If you would like to help Ella raise money or you just want to support St. Jude's, please contact me or visit her page to make a donation online at this link: EGR's Trike-a-thon Page. The Trike-a-thon is April 1st, so please donate buy that date if you feel so moved.

I will consider this a success if I can convince her to ask one person for money and if she will actually ride her tricycle at the Trike-a-thon next week!

Conversations with EGR

I love talking to Ella because I never know what that child is going to say. She always surprises me with the depth of her thought processes. These are just a few of the things she's told me recently.

We were lying in bed one cool, Saturday morning a few weeks ago with the windows open. Then wind changed, and we smelled the chimney smoke from the neighbor's house accross the street. She promptly exclaimed, "I smell fire! Everyone needs to get out!" I explained that the smoke was coming from the neighbor's fireplace and that we didn't have to evacuate at that time, but that she was correct, we would normally have to get out. I guess she was paying attention when the fireman came to school, even though this is the first I've heard about that visit (in October) other than her insistence that she doesn't like firetrucks.

Last week on our drive home after work, she was telling me that she doesn't like dinosaurs. I reminded her that she had recently painted a really pretty one. She thought quietly for a minute, and then she asked, "Are they strong?" Yes. "Do we eat them?" No. This lead to an ongoing conversation during that evening about what animals we do eat. She was comfortable with the fact that some people eat "deers" but could not accept that we eat chicken, cows, and pigs.

For the last two nights, she has worn panties for bedtime instead of a pull-up. This was at her complete insistence, and both nights she stayed dry until morning. We were talking about it during our morning snuggle time yesterday and I pointed out that she is almost ready to say "goodbye diapers" completely, but she has to start pooping in the potty first. She told me that it is hard to poop in the potty and she doesn't want me to give her diapers away to someone else who needs them yet because she still needs them right now. I love that she was able to articulate that she can't get comfortable enough while sitting on the potty to poop there yet. We will respect this and wait for her to make that decision when she feels ready.

Last night, Pop the Pop ate supper with us. While we were eating, she asked him, "Are you going to spend the night with us?" (We've never had overnight guests at our house.) He asked her if he could sleep in her bed with her, and she told him, "No, you have to sleep in a big person bed." I guess she doesn't think hers is a big person bed because it's not on a frame, or maybe just because she sleeps in it and she's not a big person.

This morning as I was loading them into the car, she stopped me with her serious face and told me, "You need to teach Aunt Becca the bedtime song so she can learn about it." I said, "So she can sing it to the new baby?" She said, "Yes, I will help you."

She has already started asking what I think of as an intro to the hard questions, like "Where is God?" I've already noticed that she's put quite a bit of thought into the answers before she asks, so I try to feel her out before I answer to make sure I'm providing information at an appropriate level for her understanding. For example, she asked me where Jesus was, and I wasn't sure if she was talking about Jesus in Heaven or the baby Jesus from our Nativity scene, which she knows is stored under the house right now. She is still very literal in her thinking sometimes. This particular time, she was looking for me to tell her he was in Heaven.

The H. Luke Update
The Littlest Roper is on the brink of exploding into mobility. He can now sit unassisted, as of today, including getting into the sitting position by himself. Over the weekend, he pulled up on the side of the kiddie pool. He has crawled across our laps, but he hasn't realized he can do it on the floor yet. Here's a picture of him from his morning.

He mostly eats table food now, inlcuding the steak we had for supper last night, and he finally figured out how to get the puffs into his mouth by himself. He has pincer grasp, but he doesn't use it all the time yet, probably because stuffing the puffs in by the handfuls is more efficient.

Unfriending Facebook

I've decided to unfriend Facebook. I haven't gone so far as to delete my account, but I've logged out and unchecked the Keep Me Logged In box and I've removed the link from my Favorites bar.

I've come to realize that this constant view into people's lives is too much for me. I really need to go about my life blissfully unaware of other people's business unless they tell me about personally. I get too caught up in a few sentences posted and forget to consider that I don't know the whole picture. Luckily, I've been able to stop my itchy fingers from commenting without thinking, but I feel myself jumping too quickly to butt into other's business to offer unsolicited advice. I hate unsolicited advice.

Because I read so much, I have a lot of random knowledge stored in my head. I'm a virtual library of randomness, and I love to solve new puzzles, so I'm constantly learning. This makes it hard for me to keep my mouth shut (and fingers still) when I see someone struggling with something that I know about. I know that it makes me seem like a know-it-all, and I guess I probably am. But, I can honestly say I'm more like the nerdy kid in class that just can't help but raise her hand and answer the question rather than the "I know more than you, so I'm superior" type of person. (I just realized that I am Hermione Granger.)

I've also realized that I feel things too intensely to know about everybody's business. I get too caught up other people's hurt/anger/frustration/sadness, etc. and I worry about things that I have no control over. That really isn't good for me.

 A lot of people have given up Facebook for Lent. I'm starting to think that's not a bad idea for me as well.

I probably won't be posting links to the blog there for a while, but you can always access the blog directly. Also, feel free to comment on any blog post in the "post a comment" section below. Your comments won't show up automatically because I have to approve and publish them first (to prevent spam), but I'll do that frequently.

Smell you later, Facebook!

Family Foto Fun

Luke has finally solved his combined problem of being basically immobile and having malfunctioning "go go gadget arms." No longer does he have to worry about being stranded, unable to reach his toys - I present you with his newly improvised, rolling wagon of fun (courtesy of Grandmother). It even comes with a readily available napping surface, of which he is known to take advantage.

Ella requested a walk yesterday afternoon and she wanted Luke to ride in the wagon with her. I packed them both in there, her in the seat, him in the bottom with a Boppy wrapped around him. It must be quite relaxing to ride along, watching the clouds, listening to plastic wheels on the pavement, with a nice, spring breeze on your face, because approximately 10 steps into our walk, he was passed out cold. Today he's making the rounds at Grandmother's house with all of his things in reach.

Oh, and Ella sends her love as well.

This is the second "hand kiss" I've received from her today. The first happened when I dropped her off this morning. She was quite disgruntled by the Daylight Savings Time wake up and she told me she was going to be ugly today. I told her that was fine as long as she went to her play room to be ugly. She then told me, "I'm going to time out!" I said, "Okay, but give me a bye kiss first." She efficiently kissed her hand, patted my cheek, and passed me by on the way to time out. I guess she needed a break before she got started with her day. I know the feeling.

We've got spirit, how 'bout you?

I started a new book yesterday called Raising Your Spirited Child, by Mary Sheedy Kurcinka. I laughed through the whole first chapter. She says some readers cry through it because they are so relieved to find out others have children like theirs, but me, I laughed because it completely validated what I already knew about my daughter.

She is spirited.

What does that mean? Some slightly more negative synonyms are "strong-willed", "difficult", "challenging" - you get the idea. With the exception of "strong-willed", I don't like those other words because, while they do apply, they make the very essence of her self seem somehow wrong. I know there is nothing wrong with her, she's just different. To put it in the author's words, she "more" - "more intense, sensitive, perceptive, persistent, and energetic." I tell people that she is everything I wished her to be and she's also my biggest challenge. She's amazing and frustrating - often at the same time. I'm both awestruck and infuriated by her - often within seconds. It's the reason I pray, "Thank you God for this amazing child. Please don't let me screw her up."

There is a quiz in the book that helps you rate your child for each of the characteristics of spiritedness (intensity, persistence, sensitivity, perceptiveness, adaptability, regularity, energy, first reaction, and mood). The total scale goes from 1 to 45, with 1 being the low-key, cool child and 45 being the spirited child. EGR scored a 35. I also rated myself and I scored a 28, which is the highest score in the "spunky" category meaning that I'm pretty spirited myself (29 - 45 is spirited). I didn't rate Dave, but I'm pretty sure he falls well into the spirited range.

These are some of my favorite quotes from the book that describe Ella.

"They don't cry; they shriek." - Holy moly, that couldn't be more true since the very minute she was born. The only time I've seen her just cry was during her allergy testing when there were silent tears flowing down her cheeks. Even that was a dramatic reaction given how different it was from the way she normally handles things.

"Getting them to change their mind is a major undertaking. They love to debate and are not afraid to assert themselves." - She is her father's daughter. Enough said.

"...quickly respond to the slightest noises, smells, lights, textures, or changes in mood." - Um, yes, yes, and yes. She hears, smells, sees everything and asks about it. She does not miss a thing.

"It can take ten minutes to get them from the house to the car. They notice everything - the latest oil spill, the white feather in the bird's nest, the dew in the spider web. They're often accused of not listening." - True. How often do I tell her to listen with her ears?

"They hate surprises and do not shift easily from one activity or idea to another." - Just ask Papa about his experience the day he picked her up from school without telling her first.

"A quick withdrawal from anything new is typical of many spirited kids." - Ha! Anyone who knows her knows this is true about her.

"They're analytical, meticulously reviewing experiences, finding the flaws, and making suggestions for change." - How many times in the last week did we discuss Grandma's car? It was in the shop to have the power steering fixed. We had to look at it when we drove by it, we talked about what was wrong with it, we prayed for it every night, and last night we finally called Pop to find out if it was fixed yet. Then we thanked God that it was. I feel certain we aren't finished discussing it yet.

I can't wait to finish this book and add another set of skills to my parenting toolbox. Do you have a spirited child?

On Crying It Out

There’s a practice in the world of parenting infants that I abhor. It’s called “cry it out” or CIO. It keeps popping up around the edges of my life lately, and I have reached my limit of disturbed so now I have to write about it.


It means sleep-training, letting your baby cry and cry and cry until it learns to “self-soothe”. There are varying degrees of it from checking on them occasionally to make sure they are “safe” to leaving them crying until they vomit and then determining if there is enough vomit to necessitate a change of bedding. Enough vomit? Are these people for real? People do this with their infants, their tiny few-month-old babies, their 9-month old babies, their innocent, completely dependent, unable-to-communicate-their-needs-with-words-so-they-cry babies.

They do it because the doctor told them to. They do it because they are tired of getting up with baby in the middle of the night. They do it because this society has convinced them that tiny little babies with tiny little tummies should be able to sleep for 10 straight hours without waking up to eat. Or cuddle. Or touch base with Mom.

I. Do. Not. Understand. It.

I find it impossible to believe that any mother can listen to her child cry for hours on end without feeling a very basic, biological, psychological, physiological need to do everything in her power to get to that child. That’s the way God made us. Because babies cry for a reason. Just because you don’t know what the reason is does not mean it’s not valid! If you don’t want to get up in the middle of the night to feed said tiny, dependent, human being then DON’T FREAKING HAVE ONE!

Right now, the top of my head may pop off and my blood might just boil over.

Every time I hear or read about someone leaving their baby to cry alone, I become physically ill. I can feel the vomit rising up in my throat. And I hurt for that poor baby that has no other way to communicate. That sees its parents as the sun and the moon and the stars, as everything in its life, that cannot understand why those people who care for it will not meet its needs.

Reality check: Babies wake up at night. They just do. They have tiny tummies that need filling often. They have a biological need to be near their parents, especially Mom. They need diaper changes. They have tummy aches. They get scared. They feel lonely. They will continue waking up at night until they are developmentally ready to not wake up at night anymore. That might happen at a few months old, or it might happen at 4 years. It depends on the child. If you try to force it by making your baby cry and cry and cry alone in the dark, you are going to make the child distrustful, detached, and dependent. If you think CIO is “working” you should rest assured that your baby stopped crying because it gave up on you.

If you are doing it because someone told you to, stop. Listen to your instincts and pick up your baby. If you are doing it because you are tired of the inconvenience of getting up at night, shame on you. With all sincerity (albeit through a blood-red haze of fury), and for your own sanity, I hope your baby does not aspirate on its own vomit.

It’s bad for mom; it’s bad for baby.


Some information, if you don’t want to take the word of a crazy, ranting, liberal, hippie mother.

On infant sleep: http://www.kellymom.com/parenting/sleep/sleep.html

Links to studies about infant sleep: http://www.kellymom.com/parenting/sleep/sleepstudies.html

8 Infant Sleep Facts Every Parent Should Know: http://www.askdrsears.com/html/7/T070200.asp

Baby-centered tips to help you with sleep: http://www.askdrsears.com/html/7/T070300.asp

Links to studies explaining why CIO is bad: http://forum.kellymom.net/showthread.php?42835-Why-you-shouldn-t-let-your-baby-cry-it-out-(CIO)-research-amp-articles

Happy reading. I hope it’s thought provoking for you.

Building Her Nest

I've always heard about kids building a nest of their favorite things in their beds at night. To some extent, Ella has been doing this for a long time with an assortment of babies or the favored stuffed animals of the day. However, recently, I think she has officially started building what I can only call a nest because of the random assortment of junk she includes.

It's not only her bed she builds the nest in. If she comes to our bed in the middle of the night, she brings her nest with her. I've known this, too, but I didn't realize the extent of it until I pulled back the covers of my bed the other morning and found the following.

A sippy cup of water
Two slippers (Not so unheard of if they had fallen off her feet during the night, but no, she brought them from her nightstand, where I had put them at bedtime.)
A stuffed animal
A picture of her friend, Brooklyn
A baby doll
A strip of plastic tile floor out of the dollhouse

I don't know what logic she applies in deciding what goes to bed, but I know she has a reason for all of it. I know what happens if I try to move any of it out of the bed.

Luke's 6 Month Check Up

We had him checked. He still has his alter ego, Harris.

He weighed in at 15 lbs. 15 oz. and he is now 27.5 inches long. He was the life of the party in the waiting room. I even heard him speak a little Spanish to a dad with a cool hat who was talking to his daughter about leche.

He took his oral vaccine and got his four shots. He cried like his heart was broken. I'm certain that mine was, too. The very hardest part is watching him flirt so happily with the nurse right before she jabs him with the first needle. He has such a good time at the doctor's office up to that point. In between wails, I think I heard him say he was going to have a bad day about it. No wait, that was me. Ugh. How many more rounds of shots until he's finished?

Just prior to the doctor's appointment, the wiggly worm dove head first out of my lap onto the living room floor. Like a greased piglet, he slipped right through my grasping hands. And landed on his head. It didn't leave a mark, but I feel certain he might need a chiropractic adjustment after that crash landing. It scared him. And me. And Ella. As soon as I got him off the floor and cuddled into my arms, she had her arms wrapped around both of us, singing Jesus Love Me, and petting his hair until he calmed down. It was one of the sweetest things I've ever seen.

And, I faced all of that with zero caffeine because I forgot my Diet Dr. Pepper when I left the house. Needless to say, I stopped at Starbucks for a venti caramel latte on the way to work. You know, so I wouldn't have a bad day about it.

Welcome Spring!

The grass may still be brown and crunchy, but those first sentries of spring, the daffodils under my dogwood tree, came marching out this weekend. It called for celebration. We moved the family into the seasonal bonus room for the weekend - the front porch. We cooked on the grill. We filled up the water table. We had a picnic. We released a big sigh of relief - for warmer weather, for relaxing in a rocking chair, for a radio playing in the background, for more space and less mess in the house, for grilled zucchini. The window is open, the attic fan is on, and I broke out the shorts and flip-flops. Only Daylight Savings Time could make it better.

Ella celebrated by getting as dirty as she could possibly manage. There were dirt angels, mud pies, and a layer of silt in the bottom of the bathtub. Nothing says it's been a fun day like a filthy child.

Even Luke was more at peace on the front porch in the Excersaucer. He has taken up Ella's old job of cheering for Georgia while she plays ball and trying to grab the cat's tail when she gets too close. He got it, too. He felt the grass on his toes and would have loved to have rolled all over the yard if I had put him down, but I wasn't ready to start digging grass out of his mouth yet.

It was a great weekend. It was much needed, and it was right on time. God always knows when I'm about to fall over the edge, and, quite literally, sends me a breath of fresh air.

Happy 1/2 Birthday, Luker Man!

Luke is six months old today. I wished him a happy half birthday this morning, and he responded by blowing air out of both ends. :)

He has developed quite a personality in the last six months. Much like his sister, he knows what he wants and he wants it now, but he communicates very differently. When he wants to play with one of his toys, he turns his entire body towards it and focuses completely on it. When I got to Grandmother's house last night and asked him if he wanted to nurse, he responded by grabbing my face in both hands and kissing me straight on the mouth. When he sees his bottle or food of interest, he stares at it and squeals. When he wants you to hold him, he lifts his arms to you. When he heard me tell Dave about his bubble-blowing this morning, he started blowing bubbles again. He communicates very well already. It's making me forget to sign for him.

He's finally mastered rolling from his back to his stomach, so now he can roll all around the floor while he's playing. Last night I saw him rolling around the play mat and getting up on his hands and knees while Dave was playing with him. He does grab things and put them in his mouth, but that's about all he does with his hands right now. He definitely seems more focused on using his gross motor skills than his fine motor skills. I keep waiting for him to try to wave or clap, like Ella did at this age, but he doesn't seem interested in that stuff at all right now. The child wants to move, and he wants to do it by himself.

I really don't think it will be long before he starts crawling, and once again, life as we know it will cease to exist. I have a feeling that the general chaos of my household will be cranked up one more notch. It should be fun!

We've got ears, say cheers!

Ella is studying the letter S at school this week. Today they were supposed to dress up as their favorite superhero or superstar. We went with the superstar, Minnie Mouse. (If you don't think Minnie Mouse is a superstar, you obviously don't have a 2 year old.)

She was totally excited about her Mouseka-dress, Mouseka-ears, and Mouseka-nose, but she made me wipe that off after the picture. She would gladly have taken her Mouseka-dog, Georgia Pluto, to school with her, but we didn't have time to paint her yellow this morning.

Luke, huge Mickey the Mouse fan that he is, was jealous that he didn't have any Mouseka-ears, but we told him he'll just have to settle for being the Mouseka-brother for now.

I've watched too much Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. I'm relating everything to it.