House Rules, con't

Well, the house rules didn't really take very well. Big M wouldn't/couldn't/didn't remember and I was annoyed at being the only one doing anything. It all came to a head last night.

I was grumpy all day yesterday because the house was a disaster. The kitchen -- gross. Beyond gross! I flipped out. I was so angry. I was infuriated! I was so mad at myself and at Big M for letting our home be like this. I was frustrated because I feel like I can never get ahead or maintain any semblance of tidiness. And, honestly, I feel like I don't know *how* to properly clean. There's always something I miss.

I attacked the kitchen. I went full force and really attacked it. (I also sent out a vent email to my friend who is an OCD neat freak.)

I've decided to focus on keeping one room exactly the way I want it. The bathroom has been easy and I'm happy to say that I've done a really good job of keeping it spic and span and clutter-free. Now I'm focusing on Little M's room and the kitchen.

Big M has done a pretty good job of making a routine of picking up the toys in Little M's room each evening before bed time. It's been a struggle to get the kids involved and keeping them focused but I realize it's a process and it won't happen overnight.

My goals are simple to state but will take time and continuous effort: Learn for myself and teach my children so they don't face these same struggles.

Somewhere, a pig is flying

At around 18 months, Little M decided to stop eating any and all fruits and vegetables. He refused! And when I say "refused", there's no room for interpretation. There was no way anything fruity or vegetabley was passing his lips. He could pick peas out of casseroles like a pro.

We have tried everything to get him to eat fruits and veggies. I even resorted to Sneaky Chef tactics. Big M would toss leftover roasts into the food processor with some leftover veggies, grind it all up to mush and spread it on bread to make sandwiches. That is how desperate we became!

Because he wouldn't eat anything except carbs and granola and protein, Little M has severe constipation problems. So bad that if he doesn't have a dose of Miralax every day, he will stop pooping all together and hold it in for up to 7 days. Yah. Nasty.

I supplement his "diet" with V8 Fusion (8 oz of the juice is a full serving of fruits and vegetables), Fruitabu (each organic, no sugar added piece of fruit leather is 1/2 a serving of fruit), and vitamins. And we do try to sneak veggies in wherever we can.

Bright Eyes, however, is the polar opposite of her brother. She gladly eats a banana or two every day. She gets excited and squeals when I bring out the apples. She literally jumps up and down at the sight of grapes.

Given all of this, you probably still can't begin to imagine how shocked I was last night when Little M asked for a banana.... and ATE it! The ENTIRE banana! He's asked for bananas before but only eaten a bite or two at the most. He ate that whole banana all by himself!

And THEN..... he asked for another.

I nearly passed out right there!

It gets even better. He ate that entire second banana!!!!

Big M is ready to go check the backyard for the alien pods because surely an alien has replaced our son!!

Tonight, Little M ate some strawberry slices, a few mandarin orange slices, and a couple pieces of cut apple.

Sure somewhere a pig is flying and....

You do what you gotta do

Little M was down for his nap for about 30 minutes when he realized he was hungry and wanted to get up.

In my brain, I quickly went through what would probably happen:

• let him up
• take him downstairs to eat
• it would take 3 hours to eat the Morning Star "corn dog" because he'd be distracted by A) toy cars, B) toy trucks, C) a burning need to watch Handy Manny, D) wanting to watch YouTube videos
• after all of that, it would be two hours later and he'd be cranky because he was overtired

Um. No. Not the scenario I had planned for the afternoon.

So I did what I thought was best in order to reach my goal of a well rested child, done napping before 4:30 pm. I gave him the corn dog and a sippy of water in his bed. I told him to eat and go to sleep.

I really don't want him thinking he can get out of napping by saying he's hungry. But I also don't want him thinking that it's okay to eat in bed.

It was one of those "lesser of the two evils" decisions.

A mom's gotta do what a mom's gotta do.

Send Help! Held Hostage!

I have VERY noisy, squeaky wood stairs in my house. So loud that they often wake me up unless my bedroom door is closed. The squeaking is really bad. Seriously people! You'd think you were waking the dead when you walk on them! And because of them, I'm afraid to go downstairs for fear that they'll wake my son up from his nap!!

Little M got home from day camp and was SO overtired but he wouldn't stay in bed. We had two long, exhausting days at the beach and he got to bed rather late last night. He's one tired puppy! I thought he'd pass out as soon as his head hit the pillow for his nap today. I was, however, quite mistaken. I guess he was *too* tired - he kept getting up and leaving his room and then would have a complete meltdown when I brought him back to bed.

I finally had to trick him into taking a nap. He wanted me to lay down with him (which I wasn't about to do because it wouldn't do either of us any good) so I told him to wait there and I'd be right back. (I know, I suck. I feel terrible that I lied to him and that I promised comfort knowing I wouldn't be giving it. I'm going to go eat worms now.) I pulled his door almost closed and came into my room and got on Big M's computer. I knew that if he would just lay there for a few minutes, he'd be out cold - and he is. But his door isn't shut all the way and I can't shut it all the way because it makes a super loud noise when it's opened and closed (old houses shift and the door isn't plumb anymore, causing this issue).

I desperately need to get all the wet beach stuff into the wash but I'm afraid to go downstairs and wake him!

That's right, I'm being held captive by a sleeping preschooler.

Would you please just go to sleep!!

My son decided that sleep was not on his agenda for the evening. Grr.

After he got up a couple times, I knew we were in for a struggle so I decided to go the easy route. I let him come back downstairs and watch So You Think You Can Dance with me. While watching the show, he started telling me that he was hungry. And the little light bulb in my head went off. I was so glad that instead of fighting him all night and punishing him for getting up, I went with my instincts and let him tell me what the problem was.

But he wasn't interested in anything I gave him. Every time I tired to lead the way back to his bedroom, he told me he was still hungry and wanted to eat. A bag of popcorn finally did the trick. No boos for the lack of nutrition, okay? You'd do the same thing and you know it.

Got him in bed and took a bio break myself. Sure enough, he was back up. I was ready to storm in there, read him the riot act and give him a good talking to about obedience and going to sleep.

He had pooped.

I swallowed back all the adrenaline and praised him for letting me know that he needed a new diaper. We had a good talk about brown poop and stinky diapers.

Then, after only 15 minutes of silence, he was back up again. This time, there was nothing wrong except that he didn't want to go to sleep. Up, down. Up, down. Up, down.

I squatted down and asked him what he wanted.

"I want go downstairs peez."
"No sweetie. You can't go downstairs. It's night-night time. You have to go to bed now."
"Go outsiiiiiiiiide?"
"No honey. It's night time and it's dark outside. That means it's time to sleep."
"Insiiiiiiiiide?"
"Yes, you have to stay inside, in your room. And you have to go to sleep."

Then he laid down on the floor right in front of the door. Again, the light bulb went off in my head. Follow his lead.

I asked him if he wanted to sleep on the floor. His eyes got real big at the prospect. So I folded the comforter in half, plopped his pillow on it, grabbed three Mr. Puppy dolls and his sheet.

I have no idea if he'll sleep on it all night or not, but I haven't heard a peep since!

Sometimes, it's so easy to just go on autopilot and mother and discipline the way you always have or the way you were mothered. It's so easy to neglect looking for alternative solutions that would solve the problem in a creative and positive way.

I try to treat my children with respect while still giving them boundaries and discipline. I am a firm believer that children need boundaries and thrive in environments where there are consequences to their actions. But those boundaries and the discipline need to be productive.

Sure, I could have spanked my son for disobeying and getting out of bed. Would that have fixed the problem? No. He's pretty determined. And he was hungry. I don't want to teach him that asking for food at night means punishment and should be feared. He wasn't able to tell me immediately what his need was. Should he be punished for that?

If you spank your kids, your choice. We have spanked Little M before but we really try to keep that as a last resort for very serious offenses. I'd prefer to never spank, quite honestly, and I try not to. I'd rather find a solution that meets everyone's needs.

An Emotional Purge

For the past week, my daughter has been sick with rotavirus. What a nasty, nasty virus! At first, we thought maybe she was having diarrhea from teething -- she has at least three molars trying to break through along with a couple eye teeth. But she got worse and worse. She stopped eating and started sleeping more and more. The diarrhea was incessant.

By Wednesday, it was obvious that we needed immediate medical intervention. We headed up to the pediatrician who sent us to the ER for an IV of fluids. After two hours of fluids, she was still extremely lethargic and was admitted into the hospital. I spent the night with her in the hospital while Big M was at home with Little M. Bright Eyes would only sleep laying on my chest. Consequently, I only got about an hour or two of sleep.

She remained in the hospital until Friday afternoon. During that time, Big M and I switched off hospital duty and Little M duty. We were constantly TXTing each other with updates, trying to manage the logistics which parent was with which child, updating relatives and trying to take care of ourselves as well.

During all of this, Bright Eyes had a diaper rash so bad that even the nurses gasped at the sight of it. Most of her hiney was raw and bleeding. It was pitiful! They whipped up an amazing diaper rash cream that worked miracles which was a relief.

Through all of this, I held myself together and kept my cool. Inside, I wanted to scream every time they poked my baby for blood or woke her to take her blood pressure. I wanted to cry with her when changing her diaper made her scream in pain. I remained calm for her so she could rely on me for comfort and security. I held her and whispered in her ear that it would all right even as the scary nurses approached with the thermometer.

We got her home but had run out of magic diaper rash cream and didn't have it for two diaper changes. During that time, the rash came back with a vengeance. Someone had told me to give her a baking soda soak so I did. Then, my brain said, "Hrm. If a *soak* will help, why not just put some on the rash area?" And so I did. And she screamed. And screamed. And screamed. I rushed her into the bathroom and used the detachable shower head to rinse her off. I wrapped her in a fluffy towel and sat on the floor rocking her and trying to sing to her as I sobbed.

Big M arrived home during this. Once Bright Eyes was soothed and back in bed, I explained to him what happened and just poured out all my stress and fears and and and... and everything. All the emotions came pouring out of me. My heart healed a bit and my psyche pulled itself back together.

Rough Day for a Little Boy

Little M pushed his sister over yet again. We're really trying to get this under control with him and, at the same time, also chastise Bright Eyes when she tries to push Little M away.

At this very moment, Little M is sitting in the Naughty Chair until he says "I'm sorry" to either me or his sister. He gave me a hug but he won't say he's sorry. I know he can do it and I know he understands what it means.

So we sit.

Him in the glider and me on the sofa. My mother has always said that I'm stubborn but I never realized just how stubborn I could be until I was pitted against my son. Every so often, he tests my by slowly sliding to the edge of the chair but not entirely off it or he'll ask to get down and when I tell him "Not until you say I'm Sorry" he starts screaming and wailing as if his toes were on fire.

Update: After about 20 minutes of sitting in the Naughty Chair, Little M finally said "I sorry Momma" and was allowed down. Thankfully, he didn't scream the entire time. That would have just broken my heart.

Practicing My Mommy-Poker Face (tm)

Surely you've been there and had to fiercely hold back laughing at something naughty your child did. Trying to be the stern disciplinarian and instill that fear and respect for authority means you can't bust out laughing while trying to discipline. It totally defeats the purpose! But sometimes it's so insanely hard to hold onto that straight face!

My almost three year old son is quite the little ham. He has found his sense of humor and knows that I like to laugh as well. The kid is a serious threat to my Mommy Poker Face(tm)!!

Some examples of how my own Mommy Poker Face (tm) was nearly obliterated today:

- Trying to put him down for his nap is always a struggle. He got up and opened his door, but he did not run down to the foot of his bed like normal. Nope. He stood there and held the door shut so I couldn't come in and he wouldn't be in trouble. I almost laughed out loud!

- During the same nap struggle, I was giving my son a stern lecture. He kept cackling and pretend-laughing. How are you supposed to not laugh?!

- After putting him back in bed yet again, I hear him howling and wailing and crying from his bed. It abruptly stops and I hear, "Whatsamatter?"

- During lunch, he got down from the table and started running back and forth from the living room to the dining room to the kitchen and back again, continuously. This got his baby sister laughing which made me laugh.

Don't tell me.

Don't tell me that all children develop at different rates. Duh, you think I don't know that?

Don't tell me that he's just been lazy all this time. He's not lazy. He has developmental delays.

Don't tell me he'll catch up eventually. Duh, I know that. But until then, we are doing our best to help him catch up. Don't trivialize it.

Don't tell me you "knew" he could do it all along. He *couldn't* do it all along so now that he can, it's a big deal to me.

Don't tell me it'll all work out. Like I should sit back on my butt and not be proactive? Whatever.

My son has some developmental delays. Not acute, but enough that he qualifies for some therapies. He's been in speech therapy for six months now and has made great strides. Without that therapy, he definitely wouldn't be as verbal as he is right now.

Another of his delays is lack of peer play. He never initiates play with other children. Never. Tandem play is normal for his age, but there should be more interest in other children than he shows.

Don't trivialize his triumphs. Don't tell me my relief is unwarranted because he's doing it in his own time.

Be happy for my son. Be happy for me. Share in the triumphs instead of minimizing it.

Mom's aren't allowed to be sick

It never fails that about a day after the mom gets sick, at least one of her children will also become sick. This means that Mom gets no time to lay around and recover. She has to suck it up, pretend she doesn't feel like death warmed over, find some way to rally and become nursemaid to her child.

My husband was laid low by a very bad cold for almost a whole week. I did my best to take care of him and keep the kids out of his hair so he could rest. I tried to keep them quiet so he could nap and then take them out of the house whenever they were awake. He eventually recovered. Then I came down with strep throat.

While I was sick, my husband did his best to take care of me and the children. I think he did an excellent job. He did as I did: he tried to keep the kids quiet so I could rest, took them out of the house so they weren't disturbing me or coming in contact with my germs. He checked on me and brought me meds and drinks as needed.

This lasted for two days -- two glorious days of recovery time. Then he had to go back to work. So much for recovering, right?

Then my almost-one-year old daughter came down with such a horrific diaper rash! Words cannot adequately describe how heinous this rash is or the pain this poor baby is enduring. At the same time, my two-and-a-half year old son woke up with a fever and has been very lethargic and clingy.

What's a sick mother to do? She sucks it up, marshals her inner resources.... and calls her mommy to come babysit.

My mother watched the kids for a few hours yesterday so I could get some sleep but today we've been on our own while Daddy was at work. Believe me, I'm counting down the minutes till his arrival.

Maybe one day I'll be able to wallow in my germs, not shower for a day or two, be waited on hand and foot with comfort foods and meds, and sleep whenever I need to while I recover from an illness.

A girl can dream, can't she?

Knock on Wood

When my two year old son was an infant, he was an excellent sleeper. He started sleeping through the night at three or four months. Then progressed to sleeping through the night for 12+ hours by six months. On top of this, he was napping three times a day for an hour at a time. He was a serious sleeper and still is.

Our daughter is now almost eleven months old. At three months, she too started sleeping through the night. First from eleven or twelve o'clock until six in the morning. Then she started going down for the night by eight o'clock. It was fabulous!

Then, the teething started. Teething is evil. Evil! Evil, I say! Once she started teething, all bets were off. She was waking every four hours and would only be soothed with a bottle.

Finally, knock on wood, she is sleeping through the night! She goes down at seven or eight o'clock and sleeps until six or seven in the morning.

Now, I will admit that we put her down with a sippy of formula and if she drinks it during the night, well, we'll never know now will we!

Laid-back Parenting

When people mention the term "laid-back", I think most people bring to mind the ultimate laid-back stereotype: the surfer dude. Slow drawling speech, languid cat-like movements, happy-go-lucky attitude, carefree, no-pressure job and a passion for their favorite past-time.

Is there anything wrong with that type of lifestyle? Absolutely not! If it works for you, then more power to you! But how can you meld the laid-back lifestyle into parenting?

Children need structure, boundaries and discipline. Those needs are not mutually exclusive for a laid-back parent. But the laid-back parent must decide, as must all parents, what is a priority and stick to those priorities.

I must admit, I'm married to a laid-back parent. Yes, I said it. He's laid back; I'm uptight. But we balance each other most of the time. Here's what I've learned from him:


- It's okay to let your child fall down.
He'll inevitably get back up and try it again. To my husband, this means "let the child explore". To me it means "lots more bruises and owies!"


- What time is it? Schedule? Oh yah... that.
I know that my children need a routine and a schedule. I know that if they don't go down for naps by a certain time, they will be miserable. My husband isn't as time conscious as I am. Suddenly, it will be an hour past our son's dictated nap time. Or it's 1:30pm and no one has eaten lunch. Sometimes it's not a problem but other times it can present a huge challenge and disrupt the entire family and the rest of the day.


- Guidelines are just that: guidelines
"No dairy before 12 months." "Co-sleeping is good/bad for the child." "Cry-it-out or not." If there's an article supporting one view, there's another article just as vehemently opposing that view. A good laid-back parent will educate himself, learn what's out there in the world of parenting advice, then cull the strategies and routines that work best for the lifestyle of his family. Not a single "expert" out there has all the right answers for every family or every situation.


- Be silly
Go ahead. Wiggle that tush! Jump up and down while squealing like a chimp! Let your little girl put barrettes in your hair, Daddy! Sing at the top of your lungs to Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Enjoy your second childhood through the eyes of your own children.


- Find balance
Laid back is fun. It's less stressful. There are no demands for perfection. But find the balance so that your children learn when it's important to act quickly, be serious and how to descern the importance priorities.

Parenting Styles

I'm a member of a local mommy webboard and one recent post has had me thinking quite a bit.

The question posed is this: Do you and your husband (S.O., whomever) have different parenting styles?

Before I married, I felt that there were essential areas where you and your potential spouse must be in synch: sex, finances, family planning, parenting/discipline. These are the areas of a marriage that can cause the most friction and breakdown the easiest.

I figured that I'd ask the tough parenting/discipline questions like, "Do you believe in spanking?", "What type of behavior do you expect of the children in public?", "What about time-outs?"

Yes, those are the hard hitting questions I thought would help us navigate our children's discipline problems. Little did I know that while you can agree theoretically, when it comes to the day to day issues it's tough!

So we had our first child and suddenly it wasn't about how they behave in a restaurant or if they bite another kid in the 3rd grade or not being a bully. Issues such as: Do you rock a child to sleep or put them in the crib? Do you let a child cry in the crib? How long? Do you say "eat this or nothing!" to a 24 month old? How do you discipline throwing things? Whoa!

Who knew that we could be so opposite on these things? And there's no way to know how you'd deal with these situations until you're in them.

I find that it's best if we just get through the instance, then regroup later and discuss why we dealt with it the way we did, what the other person felt was the better choice, why, and come to an agreement on how to handle it in the future. For some issues, it's taken us weeks and months to finally get on the same page.

The important thing is consistency. You have to do the same thing every time and so does the other parent. You have to work together. It's not so easy!

Both my husband and I have issues that are hot buttons for us. It may not bother me if my son doesn't want to eat but it irks my husband to no end! His frustration is palpable and of course our son picks up on it. So we tag team. If I have reached my limit, I call in Daddio. If he's reached his limit, he passes the task off to me. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. But we are learning more and more to rely on each other.

Consistency, communication, reliance on the other and faith in the other's ability to parent. That's how you work it out.