A tip

It's so easy to know the right thing to do when you are not the parent.

Yesterday, we were at the pool when nearby mother informed her son that it was time to go home.  In a scene that was all too familiar to me, he began to scream and cry and shout. "You're not FAIR!  Why do we have to leave THIS MINUTE!" 

Ohhhh, have I been there. As anyone who was present at our local park one evening in June can attest to.  Yeah, that was me with the small, thrashing, screaming three-year-old.

But back to THIS small, thrashing, screaming three-year-old who was NOT mine.  I sat in my lounge chair and tried to pretend I couldn't hear as the mother restrained the boy and whispered through gritted teeth, "You are really making a scene.  Look at everyone looking at you."

"I'm sorry," he whimpered.

"Well, thank you for saying sorry," she said and, foolishly, relaxed her grip.

The ploy had worked!  The boy took off at a sprint, sobbing and hiccuping with rage at the unfairness of it all. 

But now he really had his mom in a tough spot.  (Again.  Been there.)  Now he had managed to get the baby pool between them and whichever direction she went, he darted in the other.  I tried to send empathy and support vibes to the poor mom as she attempted to catch him.  I know how ridiculous you feel when your preschooler is publicly mocking you, faking in one direction and then dashing in the other while you are panting and holding back tears.

And at this moment, Cameron leaned over and whispered to me, "This is really weird.  I mean, isn't it weird to see ANOTHER kid act like that?  I feel like I should go over to that mom and give her a tip.  'Hey, if you just pretend you're leaving, he'll follow you.  Just start walking away.'"

Thankfully, the mom had friends with her and together they closed off the escape routes and helped her get him to the car.  But I am saving this for the day that Cameron tells me about his own child's temper tantrum in public.

If I Had a Hammer . . .

If you don't have a toddler, let me tell you a few things about them. They are determined. And clever. And a lot stronger than they look. If you ever need a demonstration of these skills, just try to put one in a carseat when they don't want to sit. They will wriggle and turn and brace their feet on the end of the seat, effectively making it impossible for you to buckle them in. If you continue to test them, they will scream and they just might take a swing at you.

I've wrangled more than one toddler into a carseat now, so I know a few tricks. So, should you ever find yourself, red-faced and panting, wondering if you will ever get out of the driveway because a toddler will not sit down, try distraction. Give them a toy, a snack, a sippie cup. But take it from me. Do not, ever, under any circumstances, give them a toy hammer. Don't ask me how I know, just trust me.

Mixed Messages

"We don't hit," I say to Matthew, over and over.

He's in a challenging phase right now. He wants something -- the coffee pot, for instance -- and I am foiling his plan. For NO reason, I will not let him play with the coffee pot! He's frustrated. "COFFEE!" he demands. "HOT COFFEE. I PLAY. BURN." When, despite his well-worded request, I still resist, he can not tolerate it. He hits me.

And, it's off to a time out for Matthew. "We don't hit!" I admonish him.

"Oh. Right," he responds.

So what better way to reinforce our no-hitting rule than to spend an evening pummeling our friends?

And then there's the play kitchen. "Hey Matthew," I say. "Get me a cup of nice hot coffee, would you?"


No wonder the poor kid is confused.

Teaching Bad Habits

So, I'm pretty sure that when your kid does something that you don't really want them to do again, you are not supposed to laugh. And I'm almost positive that you aren't supposed to take photos. But seriously, how could you not document this?

Cleaning House

We are doing some heavy duty house cleaning this weekend. I think it's really important to teach the kids to pick up after themselves. You know, teach them about personal responsibility and stuff from the very start. For example, if at 14 months we teach Matthew that he needs to recycle the cardboard holder when he is done with his beer, we won't have to be bugging him to do it when he's 21 years old! Brilliant!

Parenting and Sarcasm Don't Mix

Last night, I was on my own with the boys and, once again, feeling under the weather with a bad cold. Things were not going well. It was past everyone's bedtime, Cameron still hadn't brushed his teeth and Matthew was screaming bloody murder in his crib. Frustrated, I plopped into a chair and said sarcastically, "That's it. I'm going to bed. Cameron, you're in charge." To my surprise, Cameron immediately began to sob and cling to me. "Cameron, what's wrong?" I asked over and over.

When he had finally calmed down he said, "Oh, mama, I was so scared! I thought you were going to make me take care of Matthew all by myself. And I don't know HOW!"

Sometimes and always

For reasons unbeknownst to me, Cameron was in a foul mood yesterday. He is usually a very agreeable kid but when he's not, well, look out! "Get me juice, Mommy," he commanded in a petulant tone as I changed Matthew's diaper. "Juice, juice, I want juice, Mommy!" he huffed. Reminders about patience, "please" and "thank you" were met with an icy stare. By dinner time, I had had about enough of his behavior. He whined and wheedled throughout dinner and told David and I to "stop talking because you're confusing my brain." Shortly after dinner, I put Matthew to bed but just a few minutes later Cameron began to scream, enraged over . . . well, we had no idea what! If there is one thing that will push my buttons, it is waking up Matthew. Cameron had picked the wrong battle. I carried him, kicking and screaming, to the dreaded Supernanny-inspired time-out chair where for four minutes he sobbed, spit (yes, spit) and gagged while I determinedly ignored him. (This, I will have you know, takes an extreme about of willpower!)

When the four minutes were up, I sat down to have a chat with him. Sensing that a new tactic was needed here, I began, "Wow! You must be feeling really angry about something! I know it doesn't feel good to be so angry. I wish I could help you feel better, but I don't know what is making you so angry!" Then, in a flash of inspiration, I engaged David in a little drama in which I tried to tell him what was making me angry. First, I "used my words." Second, I acted like a woman possessed, shrieking and stomping.

Giggling through his tears, Cameron said, "Well, I'm not angry, Mommy. I'm frustrated. And my brain is so mixed up!" Discussion of consequences, apologies and a few hugs later, he went to bed calmly.

When Cameron woke up this morning, the first thing he said was, "I still don't get to watch TV today, right?" He had lost his TV privileges thanks to the spitting incident.

"Nope, no TV," I replied. "Do you remember why?"

Glumly, he recited, "No TV because of my behavior last night. Wow, I had really bad behavior didn't I? Do you love me even when I have bad behavior?"

"Yes, I always love you," I said. "No matter how bad your behavior is, I still love you."

"Well," he replied, "I love you, too, Mommy. Sometimes. Sometimes and always."

And, as illogical as it sounds, I think that that is exactly right!

Bean Bowl

This year, we've started a new Easter tradition that we have named "Bean Bowl." On our table we have a container of dried beans and, next to it, a large ceramic bowl. Good deeds or small kindnesses can earn you a bean and, come Easter, the Easter Bunny will be exchanging these dried bean for jelly beans! (Jelly Belly jelly beans, it has been specified) Cameron has found the bean bowl to be quite motivational and each time we find him doing something nice we shout "BEAN BOWL!" and he runs to the bowl with great gusto.

So, for the past few days I have been sick. A sick mother requires extraordinary patience from a 4-year-old and Cameron has been great. He has earned many a bean as a result of my illness. Today, he noted that Matthew needed a diaper change. Having seen his technique, I know that diaper changes are one task I will not hand over to Cameron, no matter how sick I am. But I thought I'd have a little fun with it.

"Would you change Matthew's diaper for a bean?" I said. "NOOOO!!!" he replied. "Five beans?" "NOOOO!!!" "Ten beans?" "Nooo!" "A hundred beans?" "No." "A thousand beans?" long pause "No." "A MILLION beans?" long pause, Cameron puts head in hands and sighs with despair "No," he says in a small voice. Some things aren't even worth a million Jelly Bellys.

Dam kids

There is no end to the wealth of knowledge one can glean from the educational DVD "Rescue Heroes: The Movie." During the most recent viewing of this ever-popular film, Cameron gathered that a dam is used to hold back the water in a river. Inspired, he used his blocks to build a dam. But what fun is a dam all by itself? Cameron rounded up his Little People to play on the dam, and christened them "The Dam Kids." Here is where David and I drop all pretentions and show our true colors. We could not seem to help ourselves.

Cameron: OK, so this is the dam. And these are the dam kids.
Immature parents (tittering): What mess have those dam kids gotten themselves in this time?
C: Well, the dam might break. And then there would be a flood.
IP (giggling wildly): Dam! It might break? That would be a dam shame!
C: Yes. And the dam kids are trying to stop it.
IP (guffawing): Wow, what will those dam kids think of next?
C (with broad smile, proud that his story has garnered such a reaction): Yep, the dam kids are really good at stopping floods!

Guide to Child Health

Call it maternal instinct, call it women's intuition . . . I definitely have a knack for identifying when my child is sick. I know some parents really struggle when trying to determine if their little one requires a trip to the doctor, so I thought perhaps I should share my wealth of insights. Sometimes examples are helpful, so I'll tell you about the past 24 hours and point out to you, simple reader, the oh-so-subtle clues that allowed me to determine that my child was in need of medical care.

It began around midnight, when I heard Cameron whimpering and moaning (subtle clue #1). I went to his room and he told me his throat hurt. I stayed with him while he fell back asleep but a mere hour later he crawled in my bed and sobbed, "Please, my ear hurts, take me to the hospital!" (subtle clue #2) He tossed and turned all night and awoke looking pale with fluid leaking out of his ear (subtle clue #3). Now, keep in mind that I do have a medical background -- I don't want you to feel completely overwhelmed and inadequate in the face of my mind-boggling knowledge -- but I deduced that the child had an ear infection which required prompt treatment. A few hours and $50 later, he was dosed up with antibiotics and pain meds and snoozing on the couch.

Now, here are some of the subtle clues that told me the antibiotics were working. After a long nap, Cameron awoke and proposed a new game which he called "Human Bowling." It is played by stacking rolls of paper towel in the hallway, sitting on a bouncy ball and bouncing your way through as many rolls as you can (subtle clue #1).

The game was followed by clever snack proposals, such as "When you are sick, you should eat lots of popsicles, right?" (subtle clue #2) And, of course, regaining pride in your personal appearance is always a sure sign of recovery (subtle clue #3).

My sweet little mischief maker

From the time I woke up, I knew that David was going to be working late and I needed a game plan. If you are going to be on your own with two small boys from dawn until dark, you've got to find a way to make the hours pass with as little drama as possible! Cameron practiced writing him name, signed a few Valentine cards, built with blocks and of course went to school.

After school, I felt like a model parent as we worked on a project. You see, I recently decided that I needed to teach Cameron more about caring for others and I came across the Make a Child Smile website. Together, we chose to make Aidan smile by making him a card. Cameron was so sweet as he colored a picture of a Power Ranger, glued it on construction paper and painstakingly wrote his name and Aidan's. Then, he dictated a note to Aidan, insisting that it was only right that we invite Aidan to our house! Yep, I thought, patting myself on the back. I've got this mama thing TOTALLY under control. I am successfully teaching my child to be a kind, caring individual. Go me!

With Aidan's card addressed and stamped, I made some dinner and then Cameron and I whipped up a batch of pudding. I snapped some photos of my boys together, then sat Cameron at the table with his pudding. I explained that I would be putting Matthew to bed and needed him to be a big boy. He was to eat his snack and play quietly until I was done with Matthew. Giving my ego yet another boost, Cameron behaved liked an angel until I was finished with Matthew's bed time routine. Wow, I congratulated myself. Look at that. I can handle two kids at bedtime like a regular pro now! Super Nanny, watch out! Then, I saw this.

How many little boys were eating a bed time snack? One. How many empty bowls of pudding on the table? Two. Hmmm. When confronted with the evidence, Cameron looked sheepish and said, "Wellllll, I really wanted it. AND, I didn't think you'd KNOW!" *sigh* I guess I have to face the awful truth. I'm not a perfect parent . . . but how boring would the blog be if I was?

What do you think this is, a restaurant?

I recently grew tired of catering to Cameron's culinary preferences. I was interviewing him regarding his lunch choice one day ("Apples?" "No." "Cheese stick?" "No." "Yogurt?" "No." "Sandwich" "No.") when suddenly I thought, "Wait just a minute. Why am I allowing my four year old to order off a menu at home?" So, the next day, I made him the lunch of my choosing, set it on the table and . . . he ate it!

It looks like I'm going to be fighting the same battle with Matthew, though. Tonight we ordered Indian food for dinner -- my favorite. Matthew refused to even try a bite of naan, insisting that he HAD to have sushi for dinner.

Diapers and Danger on the High Seas

Cameron enjoys changing the diaper of Matthew's baby doll. He has an eclectic technique, however, and I don't think I'll be letting him change Matthew any time soon. First, he removes the diaper and remarks loudly on how dirty the baby is. He then turns the baby over on his stomach, gets a baby wipe and vigorously rubs at the baby's bottom. Next, he flips the baby over to his back, states "Oh, his face is dirty, too!" and uses the SAME wipe to clean the baby's face! Ewww.

In other news, Matthew has joined a gang of marauding pirates. He now insists we call him Captain Gummy Grin.

Nutrition, shmutrition

Today, Cameron and I were eating lunch in the cafe after his tumbling class. I had packed his lunch -- turkey on wheat, a low-fat yogurt and a banana. Now, Cameron does eat some junk food and is still obsessively plotting his next selection from his Halloween stash, but we try to teach him healthy habits. I observed curiously as several parents purchased lunch for their child at the cafe, most selecting chocolate milk or Pepsi for their preschooler. But this conversation, at the table next to us, took the cake (pardon the pun!).

Mom: Finish your Cheetos.
Preschooler: I don't want any more Cheetos.
Mom: Fine. Then you have to finish your cookies.

SERIOUSLY! Cameron dreams of me telling him to finish his cookies, for goodness sake!

Harry Potter and the Bathtub of Bubbles

As I've mentioned in previous posts, Cameron and I listen to Harry Potter on CD while driving to and from his school. Cameron picks up bits and pieces, but is often distracted by planning what news to share with his class that day or by telling hilarious jokes such as "What is a bee's favorite color?" Answer: "Purple! HA!" (Don't ask me . . . I didn't make it up!) Despite missing some major plot turns, Cameron is still enthusiastic about the idea of Harry Potter. And, finally, I can use it to my advantage!

Cameron is not a fan of having his hair washed, and often insists it is already clean despite evidence to the contrary. This evening, however, Cameron enthusiastically submitted to a thorough hairwashing once I had prepared a top-secret Destinkifying potion. The Aquaphorius charm also worked like, well, a charm in the application of post-bath ointment. Now to come up with a charm for room cleaning . . .

Read the label, people

Matthew got an early Christmas present from Grandma Linda - a BebePod seat. He loves it and looks like such a big boy sitting up! The BebePod is essentially the same as a Bumbo seat, but it's tough to find a Bumbo anywhere these days. Why? Well, it has been recalled. I know, I know . . . all these recalls! Lead paint, GHB . . . it is absolutely terrifying.

So, what horrible contaminant led to the recall of the beloved Bumbo? Seems it is plain ole lack of common sense. The back of the seat was labeled as follows, “WARNING – Never use on a raised surface. Never use as a car seat or bath seat. Designed for floor level use only. Never leave your baby unattended as the seat is not designed to be totally restrictive and may not prevent release of your baby in the event of vigorous movement.” I guess this was too vague, as the product was recalled after children fell from seats placed on elevated surfaces. I mean that subjective, confusing "Never use on a raised surface" should obviously have been written, "Seriously. Don't EVER EVER use of a raised surface. Really."

Honestly, this sounds like a conversation with Cameron to me. "But Mommy, when you said 'never' I thought you meant 'not unless you really want to!'"

There's been a misunderstanding . . .

Yesterday afternoon, Cameron was being, well, less than a perfect little angel. Despite my vast parenting knowledge, I could not seem to get him to behave. After a few warnings and a repeat offense, I said, "OK, you have lost your midnight snack for tonight." (Aside: I don't know how it evolved, but the traditional bedtime snack is referred to as a "midnight snack" in our house.) This consequence brought a particularly anguished wail from Cameron. "OOOOOHHHH NOOOOOOO!" he sobbed. "But Mommy, I was only acting that way because I thought I ALREADY lost my midnight snack!" Lovely.

On a more positive note, we believe strongly in learning through doing so here is Cameron fulfilling his dream of recreating the Tropicana carton version of orange juice. Sadly, I must report that you can not actually just poke a straw in an orange and drink the juice right out of it. I think Cameron will just have to ask for one of those "Only $19.95 per month plus S&H" juicers for Christmas.

Cleaning his plate

The things we resort to to get Cameron to eat a well-balanced meal!
I was rewarded for my efforts, however, when Cameron asked yesterday if he could "have a snack of snap peas, green beans or another vegetable?" Wellllllll, if you clean up your toys and ask really, really nicely . . .