I constantly struggle with finding a balance between being "mom" and "teacher." Honestly, I didn't even realize how bad it was until about two months ago, when Brent's speech teacher took my hand and told me, "...I struggled the same way with my children. He doesn't need a teacher, he needs his Mama..." It made me cry, and still does. Being a teacher is who I am. It wasn't just a career choice, it was a complete lifestyle change. Not that I had much of a lifestyle as a college student, but it was a mold to fill. You are expected to behave a certain way - at all times - because parents and students can be anywhere. Teachers are expected to be the best of role models, and anything but spreads like wildfire through the parent grapevine. The items in your cart at Wal-mart must even be acceptable - or at least strategically placed in the cart.
So because of this, I find it challenging to separate "mom" and "teacher." I mean, Moms are supposed to be teachers, but I know I am sometimes on a dangerous level. I expect more of my child. I constantly see the opportunities for "life lessons." I realize now his speech teacher was right- sometimes, maybe most of the time, I need to focus more on loving, and less on teaching. But then, I find myself falling back into "teacher" mode because as a teacher, we do love our students...there are just too many similarities between "teacher" and "mom" to really, truly separate the two...at least I haven't figured it out yet.
Tonight I finished reading a book, Firefly Lane, that I thoroughly enjoyed. It was primarily about friendship, but I really took away another strong impression: the relationship a mother has with her children is completely what she makes of it. It is a relationship that should be unconditional, unfailing, and strong. What we give/teach our children is something they will carry with them forever- whether they want to or not. I want the best for Brent. I want him to be successful and happy, kind and forgiving. I want him to feel safe and loved, respected and cherished. I understand what the speech teacher meant, but I am just not sure how to separate "teacher" and "mom" - because both roles are so intertwined.
This morning we were at a program at the library with lots of younger kids; true toddlers. Brent was kicking a ball, rather wildly. I had asked him repeatedly to please be careful and pointed to the smaller children. At one point, another child kicked the ball and Brent turned on his heel, running to go after it- and immediately ran down a little girl who couldn't have been one. She started crying. As I tried to comfort her, Brent suddenly was taken over by heart-wrenching sobs that shook his whole little body and he clung to me, as if trying to disappear. I couldn't pick both of them up, and finally the mom appeared. I don't recall yelling at Brent when it happened. I knew it was an accident. I remember telling him to say he was sorry, and then he started crying. I've never heard him cry like that. It was heart-wrenching. I think he was embarrassed, and truly felt bad for hurting the little girl. It took him several minutes to stop crying, and even after the incident, he didn't act like his normal self for several hours. I told him it was a good thing that he felt bad, and that it was okay, that accidents happen, but next time, he should say sorry. It's hard to find the right words - or to even know if I need to say anything at all.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
"I 'isbee?"
This morning while I was working around the house, I heard Brent open the door to the garage. He knows he shouldn't go out there without permission, so I had to go see what was up. He met me at the door, "I 'isbee?" I had no idea what he was saying...so I asked him to show me. He took my hand, led me into the garage and did his Vanna White impression towards a large red bucket we use as toy storage. Even then, it took several minutes of me trying to figure out what he was saying...we couldn't play outside, it was almost time for school. Did he want to put something in there? Bring something inside? Finally, I understood he was saying "My frisbee." I told him the frisbee couldn't come inside. He finally collapsed in a fit of frustration on the floor of the garage. After I explained to him I didn't understand what he was trying to say about his frisbee, he stood up and dramatically said, "I 'isbee ALL 'ONE" (My frisbee all gone). I searched the bucket, and sure enough, he was right. Odd. We always put toys away! I told him we would find it later.
On the way to school, he told me to " 'all Yaya, I 'isbee all 'one!" (Call Dada, my frisbee all gone!). So we called Matt. Then the moment he got in the car from school, he was telling me, "I 'isbee not at I 'ouse, no" (My frisbee not at my house, no.) We got home, and Matt was there for lunch. Once again, Brent tells him about the missing frisbee. Seriously? Why is this such a big deal? And why did he notice it was missing this morning?!?! It's not like we were playing outside and he realized it!
So Brent wakes up from nap, sad that his frisbee is missing and starts crying about his missing frisbee again when Dad calls to say he's on his way home. Matt makes the comment we'll go after dinner and let him pick one out. Sounds great! Brent was excited again. (Why didn't I think of this earlier?)
We ate dinner - Brent even had seconds - then grabbed our things to head out the door. I really don't see how this frisbee could have gone missing, so I spend a moment digging around as I walk by the bucket. I discover it stuck between the wall and bucket. When I pulled it out, the look on Brent's face was priceless! You would have think I had discovered gold. "Oooh, I 'isbee, Yeah!!!" Silly kid.
Oh, to be three and your worst day consist of having lost a frisbee.
On the way to school, he told me to " 'all Yaya, I 'isbee all 'one!" (Call Dada, my frisbee all gone!). So we called Matt. Then the moment he got in the car from school, he was telling me, "I 'isbee not at I 'ouse, no" (My frisbee not at my house, no.) We got home, and Matt was there for lunch. Once again, Brent tells him about the missing frisbee. Seriously? Why is this such a big deal? And why did he notice it was missing this morning?!?! It's not like we were playing outside and he realized it!
So Brent wakes up from nap, sad that his frisbee is missing and starts crying about his missing frisbee again when Dad calls to say he's on his way home. Matt makes the comment we'll go after dinner and let him pick one out. Sounds great! Brent was excited again. (Why didn't I think of this earlier?)
We ate dinner - Brent even had seconds - then grabbed our things to head out the door. I really don't see how this frisbee could have gone missing, so I spend a moment digging around as I walk by the bucket. I discover it stuck between the wall and bucket. When I pulled it out, the look on Brent's face was priceless! You would have think I had discovered gold. "Oooh, I 'isbee, Yeah!!!" Silly kid.
Oh, to be three and your worst day consist of having lost a frisbee.
Monday, February 27, 2012
Boys and Bugs
Saturday, we went to see Matt's grandma for her birthday. I gave Brent a bag and told him to pack things he wanted to take. While I was getting dressed, he brought three cars - "these cars, Mama, yes?" He asked enthusiastically, nodding his head. I agreed and he disappeared. A few moments later, he returned with a ball and we had the same conversation. Next, he brought his blanket. Instead of asking about bringing it, he stated matter-of-factly, "this mine, Mama, Yes!" I reassured him that his blanket was welcome. Then I didn't hear back from him, but Matt came in and started emptying the bag. Cars (check), two balls (check), blanket (check), two dog toys...and every pair of socks the boy owns. Wait, what?! First we explained it was very kind of him to think about Duke, but he would be staying at home. Brent was not happy about that. He felt the need to explain to the dog that he would be staying at home: "Owf, you 'ay 'ouse with E.e. and owfs. I 'ouse 'ight, yes!" (Duke, you stay at the house with E.e *turtle* and the other dogs. I will come back the house tonight, yes!) Then of course, we had to argue that we were only going for the day and he didn't need all of those socks! For a kid that takes off his socks while he's at home so he can run fast, I cannot imagine why he felt the need to pack all of those socks!
Today, we were in the car and Brent was pretending to eat by making chomping noises. He proceeded to excitedly tell me, "I eat 'un zee, Mama!" (I eat one bug, Mama!) Then he said, "I eat 'oo zees, Mama!" At this point, I decided to play along and said, "What?! You ate TWO bugs? YUUUCCKY!!" He just laughed, chomped some more, and told me he was up to " 'ree zees". He went all the way to ten (skipping seven) and was so tickled at himself by the end he could hardly breathe. Boys are so weird! And no, we don't know why he calls bugs "zees."
Today, we were in the car and Brent was pretending to eat by making chomping noises. He proceeded to excitedly tell me, "I eat 'un zee, Mama!" (I eat one bug, Mama!) Then he said, "I eat 'oo zees, Mama!" At this point, I decided to play along and said, "What?! You ate TWO bugs? YUUUCCKY!!" He just laughed, chomped some more, and told me he was up to " 'ree zees". He went all the way to ten (skipping seven) and was so tickled at himself by the end he could hardly breathe. Boys are so weird! And no, we don't know why he calls bugs "zees."
Friday, February 24, 2012
" 'anks, Mama"
Despite all of the tantrums, this might be my favorite stage...at least it is so far. Seeing Brent learn and grow is so rewarding. His newest words consist of " 'anks" (Thanks) and " 'ess you" (Bless you). His " 'anks, Mama" comes out almost for everything- I give him juice, water, get him dressed, fix his toy, hand him something, give him crayons, etc. He looks at me with those long lashes and says, " 'anks, Mama"... he doesn't know it, but I would give him almost anything he wanted for that! I am not sure if it is because he says it so, so sweetly and genuinely, or because I have wanted him to start using words for so long; but either way, I cherish each " 'anks, Mama".
Monday, I sneezed and he was sitting at the table eating. He looked up from his show, laughed, mimicked me, then said, " 'ess you, Mama" then continued eating. I was amused. Tuesday night, he was in the shower and Matt sneezed. He didn't mimic him (ie. make fun of him) but he did give him a sweet, " 'ess you, Yaya". Why do I have to be outnumbered?
So, Tuesday morning Brent got up really early and apparently, Matt gave him breakfast and told him not to wake me up because they would both get in trouble. I woke up at 7:15...7:15! I hadn't even bothered to set an alarm because Brent hasn't been sleeping past 6:30 lately, anyway. I thought it was so sweet he actually let me sleep! Then, Tuesday night I must have had some type of 24-hour bug, because I got nauseous, and stayed that way until Wednesday night. Brent let me stay in bed for the most part - except when he really needed something like food, diaper change, etc. and played by himself. I might have the best 3-year old ever. Now, I just need to remember that when he is laying on the floor throwing a tantrum...
Monday, I sneezed and he was sitting at the table eating. He looked up from his show, laughed, mimicked me, then said, " 'ess you, Mama" then continued eating. I was amused. Tuesday night, he was in the shower and Matt sneezed. He didn't mimic him (ie. make fun of him) but he did give him a sweet, " 'ess you, Yaya". Why do I have to be outnumbered?
So, Tuesday morning Brent got up really early and apparently, Matt gave him breakfast and told him not to wake me up because they would both get in trouble. I woke up at 7:15...7:15! I hadn't even bothered to set an alarm because Brent hasn't been sleeping past 6:30 lately, anyway. I thought it was so sweet he actually let me sleep! Then, Tuesday night I must have had some type of 24-hour bug, because I got nauseous, and stayed that way until Wednesday night. Brent let me stay in bed for the most part - except when he really needed something like food, diaper change, etc. and played by himself. I might have the best 3-year old ever. Now, I just need to remember that when he is laying on the floor throwing a tantrum...
Monday, February 20, 2012
"Cheeeeeeese"
This morning, Brent woke up at 6:15. Matt had gotten a work call sometime much, much earlier and I had yet to fall back asleep. I got up with Brent, turned on PBS and make his breakfast, then returned to bed. I think I had just drifted off to sleep when he arrived at my side, "'ay 'eese, Mama!" (Say cheese, Mama) I lazily opened one eye, only to realize he was holding my SLR camera...with no lens cap...what?!?! I took the camera and explained that one is mommy's but he should go get his. I put the camera up on our dresser, and snuggled back into the covers, swearing to myself it was only for 10 more minutes. Two seconds later, I hear, "'ay 'eese, Mama!" Brent's first picture taken today is of me in bed. The next 125 consist of his feet, the dog, and everything from my bedroom to the living room and kitchen from his perspective - the door knobs, the drawers, the middle shelf of the fridge, his Dad's mid-section... It was amusing looking through the pictures tonight and seeing how he truly documented his little world throughout the day!
Tonight we read a book that used animals to do the alphabet. He knows all of his letters except L, Q, and W. I am amazed. He was also able to tell me which animals are on the show "Octonauts" (a new Disney favorite) which is just too amusing.
Tonight we read a book that used animals to do the alphabet. He knows all of his letters except L, Q, and W. I am amazed. He was also able to tell me which animals are on the show "Octonauts" (a new Disney favorite) which is just too amusing.
Thursday, February 16, 2012
"Mama 'oves Pat!"
It's already Thursday. Somehow I missed Tuesday and Wednesday. I am not sure how this keeps happening! It's even more frustrating when I think about what an "interesting" week it has been.
Tuesday, we were headed to school and I was talking to my husband on the phone. From the backseat, Brent squeals, "'appy 'ines 'ay, Yaya!!!" I think I might have turned around and glared at him...but maybe I just glanced in the rear view mirror. I was driving...but I can't remember. Seriously? I asked Brent to say it again. He did. (Happy Valentine's Day, Dada)... This is one of those mommy moments that I love him so, so, so much but really want to throw something at him. So, now rewind to that morning. Brent gets out of bed and even though I am NOT a morning person, I struggle each day to act cheery because I want him to grow up to be a morning person. "Good morning, love! Happy Valentine's Day!!!" and I proceeded to tell him how he was going to have a Valentine's Day party at school and how the day was all about love, blah, blah, blah. Fast forward two hours and he tells his DAD (who he is NOT even talking to on the phone) Happy Valentine's Day! Are you kidding me?
Now, let me explain something else that makes me want to throw things at my beautiful child. He will say, "I 'ove Yaya" (I love Dada)...and he will say, "Yaya 'oves 'e!" (Dada loves me!). However, despite the fact that I tell him SEVERAL times a day, whenever I tell him OR Matt "I love you" Brent immediately interrupts to correct me and spats, "No! Mama 'oves Pat!" (No! Mama loves Pat!)
Did I mention Pat is one of our dogs? Not even the dog that was my baby before Brent - she's just one of our outside dogs. She is sweet, and a big lap dog, and I do love her, but where he is getting the idea that she is my favorite is beyond my understanding. Matt and I both have tried to explain that you can love more than one person...and animal...but Brent will not be deterred from the fact that I do not love him, or anyone, other than Pat. Is he seriously old enough to do this crap to bug me on purpose? I can't imagine anything we could have said or done that would make him think anything other than I love him and Matt!
Why am I a stay at home Mom? No respect, appreciation, or "love" from this preschooler.
Speaking of no appreciation, Brent made it through the night on Monday (when he slept in underwear), his bed, however, did not. Tuesday, he went through 3 pairs of underwear in an hour and a half and I told him I was done. Today, a friend suggested keeping him in the underwear and continuously cleaning it up. By putting him back in pull-ups, I am just reinforcing the fact that I will let him do just that. Huh. That makes sense. Maybe I'll start that next week...
Note: IF I have another child, plan to start potty training during warmer weather so they can run around outside in underwear...
Tuesday, we were headed to school and I was talking to my husband on the phone. From the backseat, Brent squeals, "'appy 'ines 'ay, Yaya!!!" I think I might have turned around and glared at him...but maybe I just glanced in the rear view mirror. I was driving...but I can't remember. Seriously? I asked Brent to say it again. He did. (Happy Valentine's Day, Dada)... This is one of those mommy moments that I love him so, so, so much but really want to throw something at him. So, now rewind to that morning. Brent gets out of bed and even though I am NOT a morning person, I struggle each day to act cheery because I want him to grow up to be a morning person. "Good morning, love! Happy Valentine's Day!!!" and I proceeded to tell him how he was going to have a Valentine's Day party at school and how the day was all about love, blah, blah, blah. Fast forward two hours and he tells his DAD (who he is NOT even talking to on the phone) Happy Valentine's Day! Are you kidding me?
Now, let me explain something else that makes me want to throw things at my beautiful child. He will say, "I 'ove Yaya" (I love Dada)...and he will say, "Yaya 'oves 'e!" (Dada loves me!). However, despite the fact that I tell him SEVERAL times a day, whenever I tell him OR Matt "I love you" Brent immediately interrupts to correct me and spats, "No! Mama 'oves Pat!" (No! Mama loves Pat!)
Did I mention Pat is one of our dogs? Not even the dog that was my baby before Brent - she's just one of our outside dogs. She is sweet, and a big lap dog, and I do love her, but where he is getting the idea that she is my favorite is beyond my understanding. Matt and I both have tried to explain that you can love more than one person...and animal...but Brent will not be deterred from the fact that I do not love him, or anyone, other than Pat. Is he seriously old enough to do this crap to bug me on purpose? I can't imagine anything we could have said or done that would make him think anything other than I love him and Matt!
Why am I a stay at home Mom? No respect, appreciation, or "love" from this preschooler.
Speaking of no appreciation, Brent made it through the night on Monday (when he slept in underwear), his bed, however, did not. Tuesday, he went through 3 pairs of underwear in an hour and a half and I told him I was done. Today, a friend suggested keeping him in the underwear and continuously cleaning it up. By putting him back in pull-ups, I am just reinforcing the fact that I will let him do just that. Huh. That makes sense. Maybe I'll start that next week...
Note: IF I have another child, plan to start potty training during warmer weather so they can run around outside in underwear...
Monday, February 13, 2012
Potty Chronicles, Pt. II
A week ago, I took Brent to the doctor for an ear infection. The doctor prescribed omnicef. Five days later, the poor child's butt was practically raw from a er...certain side effect of the medicine. Today, I decided he couldn't take three more days because it was getting progressively worse. So, I called the doctor and got another prescription.
However, there may possibly (hopefully?) be a silver lining. Brent decided his butt was so sore that he went and got his big boy underwear. The look of desperation in his face is etched in my mind as he pleaded, "'ease, Mama!" ("Please, Mama!") I put the underwear on and proceeded to put a pull up over it, which he strongly disagreed with - and has not done so before. I decided okay, we'll give it a try. He stayed dry for two hours!!! At nap time, I did insist on a pull-up, but he woke up dry- yes! We headed to wal-mart...I am just not brave enough for accidents that could happen in the car or mid-store, so Brent was suited in a pull-up over underwear.
However, when we got home, he absolutely refused to use the potty. Screamed bloody murder. I finally forced him - and discovered a wet pull up and underwear. He insisted on wearing just underwear again. I thought, "Okay, maybe this is what it's going to take." Then, for the first time in underwear only, he peed himself. Distraught is an understatement. He was doing an awkward don't want my legs to touch/wish I could get my feet off the ground/this feels so gross type of dance and screamed all the way to the bathroom. Then, he asked for a book- and did an eensy, teensy, weensy little poop!
HALLELUJAH!
On a side note, the book he was "reading" on the potty had a picture of Christmas stockings - he proceeded to tell me in his 'Brent-a-nese" how Santa comes down the chimney, eats cookies, leaves choo choo's, balls, and E.e's (turtle) then goes back up high and says ho ho...I was ROLLING. I wish I had it on camera.
He insisted on wearing underwear to bed. I doubled up his waterproof mat and sheet in case I needed to change it tonight. Maybe this is it...*fingers crossed* Even if he doesn't make it through the night, he is trying really hard to make the effort. Goodness, if the secret all along was to let him pee on himself, I am going to throw something.
However, there may possibly (hopefully?) be a silver lining. Brent decided his butt was so sore that he went and got his big boy underwear. The look of desperation in his face is etched in my mind as he pleaded, "'ease, Mama!" ("Please, Mama!") I put the underwear on and proceeded to put a pull up over it, which he strongly disagreed with - and has not done so before. I decided okay, we'll give it a try. He stayed dry for two hours!!! At nap time, I did insist on a pull-up, but he woke up dry- yes! We headed to wal-mart...I am just not brave enough for accidents that could happen in the car or mid-store, so Brent was suited in a pull-up over underwear.
However, when we got home, he absolutely refused to use the potty. Screamed bloody murder. I finally forced him - and discovered a wet pull up and underwear. He insisted on wearing just underwear again. I thought, "Okay, maybe this is what it's going to take." Then, for the first time in underwear only, he peed himself. Distraught is an understatement. He was doing an awkward don't want my legs to touch/wish I could get my feet off the ground/this feels so gross type of dance and screamed all the way to the bathroom. Then, he asked for a book- and did an eensy, teensy, weensy little poop!
HALLELUJAH!
On a side note, the book he was "reading" on the potty had a picture of Christmas stockings - he proceeded to tell me in his 'Brent-a-nese" how Santa comes down the chimney, eats cookies, leaves choo choo's, balls, and E.e's (turtle) then goes back up high and says ho ho...I was ROLLING. I wish I had it on camera.
He insisted on wearing underwear to bed. I doubled up his waterproof mat and sheet in case I needed to change it tonight. Maybe this is it...*fingers crossed* Even if he doesn't make it through the night, he is trying really hard to make the effort. Goodness, if the secret all along was to let him pee on himself, I am going to throw something.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Too Cool for School
I always think the best part of parenting is watching Brent grow into his own little person. As a baby, children are told "smile at mommy!", "roll over!", "walk this way!"...then as toddlers they are told, "stay here", "dance!", "say bye bye!"...but as they grow out of the toddler stage, a parent begins to see more things that the child chooses to do on his or her own free will.
Sometimes they are mannerisms learned from us, or a playmate; but the best always seem to come from who-knows-where! Brent's most popular "action" that we have NO idea where it came from is to take the back of his hand and swipe it across his forehead - either when he has carried something heavy or when he almost messes up (ie. spilling his snack). Neither Matt nor I do this and I have yet to find someone - or a show he watches that does. So did he come up with this well-know behavior on his own? Every time he does it, it's like watching a short episode of Looney Tunes.
Today, I took him to school and as he was getting out of the car, he snatched up his sunglasses. The sky was completely cloudy. I asked him to leave his glasses in the car, which he was not going to do. We agreed that he could wear them to the door then would need to take them off and hand them over. He did just that...after basking in the comments from all of the passing parents and teachers about how cool he was. It was obvious that was exactly his purpose.
Where does he come up with this stuff? I love it.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Rock, Paper, Scissors
Yesterday, I got done getting dressed and Brent enthusiastically pulled me into the computer room. On the desk, he showed me 3 post-it notes that he had scribbled on. I said a silent thank you that our furniture and wall were spared. Then he held up three empty spools of ribbon - which were in a heap on the floor...and upon closer inspection, I discovered cut into tiny pieces with scissors. Next to those, lay a pile of papers I had been working on that also had nice little diagonal slits cut into the sides. As I took a deep breath to think about how to handle this I was thinking: 1) we leave the pens and scissors in a cup on the desk where he can get to them, he had just never shown any interest before so it is our fault, 2) he must be using scissors at school, 3) his cuts are very nice and uniform, 4).... a voice interrupts my thoughts: "MAMA! Me cut, 'ike 'ool, yeah!" ("Me cut like school, yeah!"). I asked him if he was using scissors at school and he enthusiastically said yes while holding the paper in a Vanna White-like style. All I could do was tell him that I appreciated his hard work, but that was Mama's ribbon, paper, and scissors. I reassured him that we would get him his own pair of scissors, but he could only use them when I was watching because he could get hurt since they are sharp. He seemed happy and even ended the conversation by pointing at the scissors and pen and saying, "No 'ine, Mama's, yes!" ("Not mine, Mama's yes!") Generally, when he shows me understanding this way I don't have to worry about him misbehaving again.
I. was. wrong.
Today I walked in on him cutting another piece of ribbon. Too tempting, I know. This must be a skill he feels the need to practice. They are tiny scissors, and rather dull. The ribbon can be replaced. I am not mad at him for his curiosity and craving to learn, practice, and play. I just worry about him using scissors unsupervised. I placed the scissors in a drawer, but left the pens out. Hopefully, I won't regret this.
As parents, we often try to hide, cover up, or get rid of things we don't want our young children to touch/break/explore/eat/get hurt by/etc. However, we really need to remember that the best way to learn is for a child to do. If a childhood is spent well-protected but only being told not to do something, chances are, that child will not have learned the meaning of conseqences. We need to try our best to childproof for our children's safety, but not take away everything that could teach them how to learn from their mistakes. We should take the time to explain to our child(ren) why we must (or cannot) do something- but expect that they will (or will not) out of curiosity. Then, provide a consequence related to the action so they learn from the experience.
On a funny note, Matt was home later than usual tonight and Brent was ready to eat dinner. He told me, "Call Yaya! I eat!" I told him I was not going to but he could. The moment Matt answers the phone, Brent matter-of-factly says, "Yaya, my house, NOW!" then hands me the phone. He is a man of few words, but he definitely gets his point across!
I. was. wrong.
Today I walked in on him cutting another piece of ribbon. Too tempting, I know. This must be a skill he feels the need to practice. They are tiny scissors, and rather dull. The ribbon can be replaced. I am not mad at him for his curiosity and craving to learn, practice, and play. I just worry about him using scissors unsupervised. I placed the scissors in a drawer, but left the pens out. Hopefully, I won't regret this.
As parents, we often try to hide, cover up, or get rid of things we don't want our young children to touch/break/explore/eat/get hurt by/etc. However, we really need to remember that the best way to learn is for a child to do. If a childhood is spent well-protected but only being told not to do something, chances are, that child will not have learned the meaning of conseqences. We need to try our best to childproof for our children's safety, but not take away everything that could teach them how to learn from their mistakes. We should take the time to explain to our child(ren) why we must (or cannot) do something- but expect that they will (or will not) out of curiosity. Then, provide a consequence related to the action so they learn from the experience.
On a funny note, Matt was home later than usual tonight and Brent was ready to eat dinner. He told me, "Call Yaya! I eat!" I told him I was not going to but he could. The moment Matt answers the phone, Brent matter-of-factly says, "Yaya, my house, NOW!" then hands me the phone. He is a man of few words, but he definitely gets his point across!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
"I 'iss Yaya"
Today was an eventful today...probably because I haven't felt like I had anything to write about lately...so I jotted down all the cute things and will share them for future writer's-block days! If I shared them all on this one entry, it would be a book!
This morning Brent woke up with another fever so we headed for the doctor. I (again) promised him ice cream if he was on his best behavior and prepared him for everything that would happen at the doctor...standing on the scale, having his temperature taken, listening to his lungs, looking at his throat and ears...I was certain it was just another ear infection...perhaps the same one that never went away completely!
So, we get to the doctor's office and the nurse tells him to stand on the scale. He does it perfectly, without hesitation...or so I thought. The nurse tells him to put his hands down to his sides because he is holding on to the pole of the scale....SERIOUSLY?! Have they not dealt with three-year olds before? Aren't they just happy he's ON the damn thing?
So then we go into the exam room - normal stuff...until the nurse says they want to test him for strep and flu. What? As she says this, my child is spinning in circles and laughing...pretty sure he doesn't have the flu! I lose the argument about the test - despite repeating the fact that we were just in here several weeks ago with the same symptoms (fever only and restlessness) and it was just an ear infection then. So she sticks a q-tip up his nose and scrapes the back of his throat. Nope, didn't prep the poor kid for that stuff. He still did well though! I did hear, "I 'iss Yaya" (I miss Dada) several times...
So then the doctor comes in and checks him over- confirms that it is an ear infection. Nurse comes in and says tests are negative. Great, so that's why my health insurance is so high...because doctors charge them whatever they want. Can I please have my deductible back for doing your job?
We dropped off the prescription at the pharmacy - when the pharmacist asked for the patient's birthday I said, "'09." She looked at me as if no one has ever said this before! "You mean 2009?" she asked. Sigh. Nah, 1909...here's your sign. (Thank you, Jeff Foxworthy...)
Insert ice cream from McDonald's here and happy boy.
After nap, Brent woke up coughing and obviously not feeling well. We went outside for a bit and he was really enjoying himself until he did a sliding face-plant on the driveway. We had already discussed how Dad was going to be gone until after bedtime and he immediately wailed, "'o 'ee Yaya!" After having him repeat it a few times, I figured out, "Go see Dada"...okay....I called Matt at work and we were able to go see him...the best band-aid that boy could have gotten. He loves his Dad, I like to think more than most other kids I know. As a stay-at-home Mom, I have to remind myself that it isn't necessarily a reflection of my own parenting skills, but how great of a relationship Matt has created with our son. Every boy should have a Daddy like that!
This morning Brent woke up with another fever so we headed for the doctor. I (again) promised him ice cream if he was on his best behavior and prepared him for everything that would happen at the doctor...standing on the scale, having his temperature taken, listening to his lungs, looking at his throat and ears...I was certain it was just another ear infection...perhaps the same one that never went away completely!
So, we get to the doctor's office and the nurse tells him to stand on the scale. He does it perfectly, without hesitation...or so I thought. The nurse tells him to put his hands down to his sides because he is holding on to the pole of the scale....SERIOUSLY?! Have they not dealt with three-year olds before? Aren't they just happy he's ON the damn thing?
So then we go into the exam room - normal stuff...until the nurse says they want to test him for strep and flu. What? As she says this, my child is spinning in circles and laughing...pretty sure he doesn't have the flu! I lose the argument about the test - despite repeating the fact that we were just in here several weeks ago with the same symptoms (fever only and restlessness) and it was just an ear infection then. So she sticks a q-tip up his nose and scrapes the back of his throat. Nope, didn't prep the poor kid for that stuff. He still did well though! I did hear, "I 'iss Yaya" (I miss Dada) several times...
So then the doctor comes in and checks him over- confirms that it is an ear infection. Nurse comes in and says tests are negative. Great, so that's why my health insurance is so high...because doctors charge them whatever they want. Can I please have my deductible back for doing your job?
We dropped off the prescription at the pharmacy - when the pharmacist asked for the patient's birthday I said, "'09." She looked at me as if no one has ever said this before! "You mean 2009?" she asked. Sigh. Nah, 1909...here's your sign. (Thank you, Jeff Foxworthy...)
Insert ice cream from McDonald's here and happy boy.
After nap, Brent woke up coughing and obviously not feeling well. We went outside for a bit and he was really enjoying himself until he did a sliding face-plant on the driveway. We had already discussed how Dad was going to be gone until after bedtime and he immediately wailed, "'o 'ee Yaya!" After having him repeat it a few times, I figured out, "Go see Dada"...okay....I called Matt at work and we were able to go see him...the best band-aid that boy could have gotten. He loves his Dad, I like to think more than most other kids I know. As a stay-at-home Mom, I have to remind myself that it isn't necessarily a reflection of my own parenting skills, but how great of a relationship Matt has created with our son. Every boy should have a Daddy like that!
Monday, February 6, 2012
Little Things in Life
How do Mom bloggers post every day - some even multiple times a day? I didn't start that long ago and have not been very good at keeping up with this! Some days I am just too tired and other days nothing really "important" enough happens to bother writing about!...and then there are the days I totally, completely forget to even think about it!
Last night we didn't sleep well. Brent was fighting a fever and claimed he was hungry. It's hard to convince your child he needs to wait until the sun comes up to eat. Saturday, I told my husband I thought Brent was getting sick. Right before he get sick, he becomes unusually defiant (such as refusing to do simple tasks), he doesn't eat, and he doesn't sleep. Sure enough, last night the fever showed up. He seemed fine today, but it's obvious he is fighting something, though no symptoms have showed themselves.
He was sad I didn't let him play outside long. It's colder than it has been, and if he's fighting a cold, I definitely didn't want to make matters worse. He was sad, frustrated, and annoyed. Ice cream has been his absolute favorite lately, and I remembered an activity I did with my first graders several years ago. Brent enjoys helping in the kitchen, and he loves ice cream, so I thought this activity would be a hit! We made ice cream in a bag...he LOVED it and brought him out of his grumpy mood! (See recipe below.)
I really need to remember to take the time and do these easy, classroom-like things with him. If this is something I do often, he'll grow up to remember when "Mom use to let me make ice cream"...it's too easy not to try to make these memories!
1 point for Mommy Success. Minus 1 Parenting point for letting your little boy go hungry at night...
From teachnet.com
1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 tablespoon sugar
4 cups crushed ice
4 tablespoons salt
2 quart size Zip-loc bags
1 gallon size Zip-loc freezer bag
a hand towel or gloves to keep fingers from freezing as well
Mix the milk, vanilla and sugar together in one of the quart size bags. Seal tightly, allowing as little air to remain in the bag as possible. Too much air left inside may force the bag open during shaking. Place this bag inside the other quart size bag, again leaving as little air inside as possible and sealing well. By double-bagging, the risk of salt and ice leaking into the ice cream is minimized. Put the two bags inside the gallon size bag and fill the bag with ice, then sprinkle salt on top. Again let all the air escape and seal the bag. Wrap the bag in the towel or put your gloves on, and shake and massage the bag, making sure the ice surrounds the cream mixture. Five to eight minutes is adequate time for the mixture to freeze into ice cream. Makes one serving.
Tips
Freezer bags work best because they are thicker and less likely to develop small holes, allowing the bags to leak. You can get away with using regular Zip-loc bags for the smaller quart sizes, because you are double-bagging. Especially if you plan to do this indoors, we strongly recommend using gallon size freezer bags.
Last night we didn't sleep well. Brent was fighting a fever and claimed he was hungry. It's hard to convince your child he needs to wait until the sun comes up to eat. Saturday, I told my husband I thought Brent was getting sick. Right before he get sick, he becomes unusually defiant (such as refusing to do simple tasks), he doesn't eat, and he doesn't sleep. Sure enough, last night the fever showed up. He seemed fine today, but it's obvious he is fighting something, though no symptoms have showed themselves.
He was sad I didn't let him play outside long. It's colder than it has been, and if he's fighting a cold, I definitely didn't want to make matters worse. He was sad, frustrated, and annoyed. Ice cream has been his absolute favorite lately, and I remembered an activity I did with my first graders several years ago. Brent enjoys helping in the kitchen, and he loves ice cream, so I thought this activity would be a hit! We made ice cream in a bag...he LOVED it and brought him out of his grumpy mood! (See recipe below.)
I really need to remember to take the time and do these easy, classroom-like things with him. If this is something I do often, he'll grow up to remember when "Mom use to let me make ice cream"...it's too easy not to try to make these memories!
1 point for Mommy Success. Minus 1 Parenting point for letting your little boy go hungry at night...
From teachnet.com
Make Ice Cream in a Plastic Bag
1/2 cup milk1/2 teaspoon vanilla
1 tablespoon sugar
4 cups crushed ice
4 tablespoons salt
2 quart size Zip-loc bags
1 gallon size Zip-loc freezer bag
a hand towel or gloves to keep fingers from freezing as well
Mix the milk, vanilla and sugar together in one of the quart size bags. Seal tightly, allowing as little air to remain in the bag as possible. Too much air left inside may force the bag open during shaking. Place this bag inside the other quart size bag, again leaving as little air inside as possible and sealing well. By double-bagging, the risk of salt and ice leaking into the ice cream is minimized. Put the two bags inside the gallon size bag and fill the bag with ice, then sprinkle salt on top. Again let all the air escape and seal the bag. Wrap the bag in the towel or put your gloves on, and shake and massage the bag, making sure the ice surrounds the cream mixture. Five to eight minutes is adequate time for the mixture to freeze into ice cream. Makes one serving.
Tips
Freezer bags work best because they are thicker and less likely to develop small holes, allowing the bags to leak. You can get away with using regular Zip-loc bags for the smaller quart sizes, because you are double-bagging. Especially if you plan to do this indoors, we strongly recommend using gallon size freezer bags.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
Teaching
For the first time since starting the blog, I am already behind! So, Monday, Brent had his 2nd speech class at the public school. He seems to really be enjoying it and is working on a few words! Yay for talking! While he was in speech, I went to volunteer in the pre-k room.
Wow, I really miss teaching. The odd thing is, walking into this other teacher's classroom and "jumping right in," I felt more at ease and confident than ever. I have thought about this and decided that when I was a first year teacher (6 years ago?!? gasp...) parents were the scariest part of my job. I didn't want them to doubt me, some did. I had absolutely no self-confidence while dealing with pushy parents and unfortunately, "Dealing with Parents" was not a college course offered in education. It should be. Now, I have this new-found confidence, and I watch the teacher, who is obviously a "young first-year," with sympathetic eyes. Funny how having a kid can make you feel so accomplished and experienced.
However, while I really enjoyed my time in the classroom, I was also reminded as to why I never, ever, ever want to work in a public school again. In a group of 18 children, she had 4 who were constantly so disruptive and disrespectful I am not sure how I would have handled it myself. At one point, a child shared the fact that she "did not give a shit" that the teacher took away privileges. The assistant then had to physically restrain the child for lashing out. I must admit, I would have called the principal. This pre-k room only started 3 weeks ago, but still, I would never expect behavior at this level from 4-year olds!
Brent continues to be an "outstanding" 3-year old. Sure, he has the occasional tantrum, but he actually gets over it much more quickly! He has done several funny things over the last three days, but I will have to start writing this stuff down. Once bedtime rolls around, my memory of the day completely fades!
Wow, I really miss teaching. The odd thing is, walking into this other teacher's classroom and "jumping right in," I felt more at ease and confident than ever. I have thought about this and decided that when I was a first year teacher (6 years ago?!? gasp...) parents were the scariest part of my job. I didn't want them to doubt me, some did. I had absolutely no self-confidence while dealing with pushy parents and unfortunately, "Dealing with Parents" was not a college course offered in education. It should be. Now, I have this new-found confidence, and I watch the teacher, who is obviously a "young first-year," with sympathetic eyes. Funny how having a kid can make you feel so accomplished and experienced.
However, while I really enjoyed my time in the classroom, I was also reminded as to why I never, ever, ever want to work in a public school again. In a group of 18 children, she had 4 who were constantly so disruptive and disrespectful I am not sure how I would have handled it myself. At one point, a child shared the fact that she "did not give a shit" that the teacher took away privileges. The assistant then had to physically restrain the child for lashing out. I must admit, I would have called the principal. This pre-k room only started 3 weeks ago, but still, I would never expect behavior at this level from 4-year olds!
Brent continues to be an "outstanding" 3-year old. Sure, he has the occasional tantrum, but he actually gets over it much more quickly! He has done several funny things over the last three days, but I will have to start writing this stuff down. Once bedtime rolls around, my memory of the day completely fades!
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