RedsRoom

Interpretation

Baby j (the kid) has become quite an independent soul. After waking up at some ungodly hour in the morning and our desperate attempts to get extra minutes of shut eye, we all get up to eat breakfast. The husband goes and gets bagels and coffee while I start to get the kid ready for his cereal. I pour his bowl and give him a mini cup with milk to pour himself and told him to get his super big spoon. So, he is all set up and ready to have breakfast. Suddenly, Mr. Independence decided that he didn’t need to eat and declared that he wasn’t hungry. He HAD to play cars in the other room.

When he insisted that he had to go watch a show in the den we told him that he couldn’t until he ate 2 bites of his delicious Captn Crunch which was peacefully waiting on the table, dying to be eaten. After much whining, pleading and negotiating he finally caved and ate his 2 bites of his cereal. I guess what was supposed to be 2 spoonfuls to us was 2 single pieces of cereal.

Kudos to the kid for outsmarting his parents. 2 is 2 and we had to give him that.

473 comments June 10th, 2007 Edit

It fits like a…

In the light of being creative and trying to expand the mind of my little boy we let him watch a TV show called Oobi. Its pretty much like all the other shows, but instead of people as characters, they use hands. So when J has nothing else he wants to do or if he is trying to postpone the inevitable nap or bedtime he starts to talk with his hands.

“Hi! What a doin?” he will say with one hand and then the conversation starts and usually finishes with his hand trying to chomp on yours. That’s when the fun ends and I tell him he has to stop or the hand-eating monster is going to come and chew his fingers off one by one.

One afternoon he decided that his hand puppets needed to have clothes so he dug out a pair of tube socks that are too small for his feet and had 2 green stripes at the top. He places one on one hand and starts to talk with it. Cute, right? Then he wants the other hand covered so they both can talk to each other while they are dressed. So I give up and I leave him in his room to talk to himself, or to his hands. He falls asleep with his hands well dressed and when I go in there to wake him, he pops up and started to have a conversation between the two hands again. I figured the nap just interfered with the conversation.

He kept taking the socks off and putting them back on. This is a difficult thing if you have never been successful with putting socks in the proper place, your feet. He insisted he do it with no help. I thought this was a good distraction and started to strip him of his naptime shorts and diaper, which, by the way, was very full. I start to get ready for the rest of the day and try to dig out a pair of shorts and look for a clean diaper. I also had some laundry to organize in his room so I start to do that and then suddenly I hear in a loud and very proud voice, “IT FITS!” I start to talk to him as I am preoccupied with the laundry and other adult concerns and I say things like ‘That’s great!’ and ‘Good job!’ and ‘Can you do it again?’ He then starts to giggle and says it again “It fits, Mommy!” My curiosity gets the better of me at this point because socks on hands are not so funny anymore. We know he can do that. So I turn towards him and he says it again while looking down at the sock. “It fits, Mommy.”

“Um, yea I see that. It’s a perfect fit!” {on your penis!} And he laughs hysterically. I take it and put it straight into the hamper. I couldn’t stop laughing myself.

1 comment August 22nd, 2006 Edit

Basic food group

“My son just ate Ketchup for his dinner. Everything else is exactly how I gave it to him.”

“Thats a vegetable, right?”

3584 comments July 31st, 2006 Edit

Thankful for someone

Ever since baby j was an ity bity little person I have always been fascinated with him while he sleeps. He is so peaceful and all the terror, temper tantrums, scraped knees, toy throwing, hitting, and water splashing just seem to disappear. I have spent countless hours lying next to him watching him breathe. I would watch him sleep so peacefully and just thank the force that has given him to me. With his eyes closed and his steady breaths he is an angel. The perfect sound comes out of him every so often and my heart just melts. A sigh. That, my friends, is the most perfect sound.

He now cuddles with his Simba doll that sports his Mets T-shirt because it doesn’t fit him anymore. Every night I come into his room to adjust his blanket and make sure both of them are properly covered and centered on the bed. I push baby J’s hair back and give him a gentle kiss and tell him I love him. Lately he will talk in his sleep and say ‘Hi, mommy. What a doing?’ and I will just simply respond ‘Tucking you in and giving you a kiss, baby.’ He doesn’t open his eyes or get up. He will just turn over and go back to his good nights sleep.

This has to be the best part of my every day. I cannot go to sleep without this routine. Without saying a peaceful goodnight to my baby. This is a moment that makes you forget how difficult it is to be a parent. How exhausted you are every day. It just makes you feel love that you just never thought you could feel.

3 comments June 17th, 2006 Edit

Reasoning with a 2 year old

I think I may start a category just for tantrums. I am sure I would have more of those than anything these days. Today’s was about independence. I went in to get Baby J out of bed and to start his day. We had to get going and get dressed so we can eat and go to class this morning. He was in a good mood and was playing in the mirror. So while he was making funny faces I figured I would drop his sleeping shorts and get the diaper off as quick as I could since getting him undressed and dressed is becoming a continuous battle. As the shorts hit the floor it was like I flashed his ex-girlfriend that had never seen his parts. Immediately, and as I am ripping his pee-soaked diaper off, he lifts his shorts up. He is holding it high by his stomach but the back end hasn’t passed over his back end. So in his attempt to try to keep his dignity, he runs to the door to hide from me screaming that he wants his SHORTS ON. I don’t fight him and just try to reason with a two a year old. What was I thinking?

“You can keep your shorts on as long as I put on a clean diaper”
“No new diaper”
“Mommy doesn’t want you to pee-pee on the floor. We need to wear a new diaper”
“No pee-pee da foor”
“Honeybear, we have to wear a diaper to go eat our breakfast”
“NO”
“I promise that you can wear your sleepy shorts…”
“Uh-oh!” {with a serious look on his face}
“What?”
“Pee-pee on da foor, Mommay.”

Yup! There it was. He walked over to me and pointed to the wet spot he had created on his beautiful carpeting. He immediately let me put a diaper on after that. I guess it was either a diaper or I make him sit on the potty all day.

176 comments June 8th, 2006 Edit

Breaking point

Baby J is at the front door kicking and screaming at the top of his lungs. I have dinner on the table and he is covered in whatever he has been playing with outside. Most likely a mixture of bubbles and dirt. All he wants to do is play with his friend that is still outside. The high-pitched squealing gets louder and louder. The tears stream down his bright red face. He tries to bang on the door as if it will magically open with his fists. Then he uses his feet. Somehow he gets a few words that sound like “play” “outside” “Allison”. We are not quite sure, but that’s the best we can do.

R is watching this display of emotion with me for many minutes. He looks at me square in the eye and says, “Thank God I get to go back to work tomorrow!”

27 comments June 7th, 2006 Edit

Mommy’s sleep policy

“Do you ever get up before the kid does?”
“What do you mean?”
“Do you wake up in the morning before he does?”
“Yea, but I go back to sleep until he wakes me up.”
“You can get so much done if you wake up before him.”
“I could but I could get so much done after he goes to sleep at night AND have you help me.”

478 comments May 31st, 2006 Edit

What chapter are we up to?

We have entered into a new and difficult stage in raising a child. We have gone through big bellies and birthing. We had a helpless infant that would eat, sleep and poop on a regular, hourly schedule. Sleepless nights and stinky spitup. We have been through the first tooth through the twentieth. Newborn diapers to size 6. Rolling, sitting, crawling, cruising and of course, first steps all the way to running faster than mommy could. Solid foods. First words. First haircut. Going to the zoo and even a trip to Disney World. The list can go on forever. Anyone with a child would know how I cried at every one of these events. Just thinking of all of these things even brings a tear to my eye. My baby, he is growing up.

My son happens to be the most independent person I know and probably will ever know. I can tell that already. When he was 10 ½ months, on December 21st 2004, he decided that he no longer wanted to breastfeed. We woke up and I did my usual routine with him. I get ready to feed him, latch him and he looks right up at me and… {BITE}. YOWCH! I wait a few minutes and through my tears of agony I try again. YOWCH again! I tried all day to get him to take the breast. I tried all week. I was more determined than a hungry lion staring at a zebra at the pond. J wanted nothing to do with it. J decided when he wanted to end the most intimate of mother-child relationships, no me. I was devastated. I, for once, at 10 ½ months, realized that my child was very independent and was growing up. I had to take a long deep breath. I also cried more than I should have.

J’s next step to independence just occurred a few weeks ago. One night as we were putting him to bed, he put his foot down and gave up one of the longest nights we have had in a long time. After bath, brushing his teeth, struggling with the diaper and his jimmies, J announced that he didn’t want to sleep in his crib.

“Mommay, nap floor.”
“You don’t want to sleep in your crib, Honeybear?”
“NO, NAP FLOOR!”

We would put him in the crib and he would scream as if I put him into a pool of hot lava. He was hysterical. It was horrifying. Hearing him plead with us because all he wanted was to sleep on the floor. We didn’t get it. We finally gave up and let him cry in his crib and he eventually did fall asleep that night. He woke up bright and early ready to get out of his confines of wooden bars.

Naptime was just as pretty. The crying and begging not to go into his crib was unbearable. Everything was thrown out and announced that THEY were sleeping on the floor. His Tigger doll, Mickey Mouse, Brown Bear Book, sippy cup, even his banana blanket all were ready to sleep on the floor. With or without him. After a very long struggle, I set up a makeshift bed on the floor next to his crib. He fell asleep instantly and slept there peacefully for his entire nap. This is when I realized that my child, my baby, this being that was supposed to need me for everything and follow my every direction is not going to. He wasn’t going to sleep in his baby crib for the rest of his life like I had planned. He decided he was ready to be ‘out of the crib’. He was making his next step to be as far away from my womb as possible. He slept on the floor for a few days until we ran out and got him a big boy twin bed. I spent a fortune on cool bedding from Pottery Barn and he has been great in it ever since. He doesn’t even get out of it in the morning when he wakes up. He still lays in bed and plays with his dolls and books and anything else I leave in his bed for him. I hear him playing with his Baby Tad doll that sings a few notches way too high and he will sing ‘Gymbo, swish, swish, swish!’ Which is his version of the Gymboree song. When he is ready to get out of bed, he doesn’t climb out. We hear from the top of his lungs, “mommay, mommay, mommay!!!!!” and then something that resembles that he wants to get out of bed.

Although, it is a sad and emotional point for my husband and I, I absolutely love being able to lay down next to my baby J and read his books to him. He likes to creep his fingers around my face and explore every part of it. It’s just so absolutely precious and it’s those moments that I need to help me forget his devilish toddlerhood that makes me nuts all day long. I love my growing boy.

Anyone have a Kleenex?

2 comments May 18th, 2006 Edit

Bedtime stories

“HELLO? What the hell did you do? I couldn’t get him down no matter what I tried.”

“I read him a book and sang him a song as I went around the room until I got to the door and snuck out. He’s just laying there with his sippy and will be asleep in a few minutes.”

“You must be a miracle maker.”

“No, you must have tired him out the past hour and a half.”

4 comments May 4th, 2006 Edit

My Mr. Pisser

Nighttime diapers have become quite a challenge. We have gone through every option we can think of and we still have the same problem: They just don’t hold enough! Just about every morning when I go in to get J from his crib (yes, he is still in a crib and will be there until he is either 1. Fully potty trained or 2. Figures out how to get out) I have to repeat the get up, strip and clean up routine. My washing machine was brand new and I swear it’s about ready to conk out from all the pee-pee bedding it has had to endure. We were using the Huggies Overnights but he started to pee through those and they don’t make a bigger size than what he was in. I tried using all kinds of diapers, different sizes, liners or anything you can think of. I can’t seem to find the liners I was using and I am about ready to try a maxipad. How much different could it be? They both claim to hold a lot of fluid, right?

Last night I tried a Pampers Cruiser. They seem to do a really great job during the day, especially those days where I am just a bad parent and change his diaper only when it offends the neighbors’ dog. This morning J woke up screaming ‘MOMMY, MOMMY, NA-KIN, NA-KIN, BUG, BUG’ in a high pitched, very scared sounding voice. I ran into his room and discovered that the diaper crystals had escaped and exploded out of the confines of his diaper and were all over his bed, all over him, his face, hands, everywhere. I immediately got him out of the bed and stripped him down in fear that he may get the crystals in his mouth. When I got him down to his birthday suit, he saw hundreds of little crystals all over his body and he completely freaked out. He got all heeby-skeevy and was shrilling that these things were all over his body. Without delay, I got him in the tub.

So, the Pampers Cruisers have been scratched off our list of appropriate bedtime diapers.

8 comments April 23rd, 2006 Edit