Monday, February 7, 2011

We Have Panties


On Saturday, the 22nd of January, 2011, Violet pooped on the potty, and received her long awaited Dora underwear and chocolate chips. Like a mantra, during every poopy diaper change for almost a year, we have chanted about the exciting day when Violet pooped on the potty and got the grand prize, Dora underwear and chocolate chips. That glorious underwear and chocolate chip day has come and it was worth the wait.

I am so proud of Violet, I could shout it from the rooftops! 'MY BABY IS WEARING UNDERWEAR--NOT A DIAPER! SHE IS REFINED AND BRILLIANT!'

Of course there have been accidents. That's why it is called potty training. But the accidents are few and usually my fault. Like a pants pooping when I am in the shower--who could blame her? And she's learning quickly. Yesterday when I was finished drying my hair, Violet called me down to show me that she had deuced on the big toilet all by herself! I think she was finally ready. And a little friendly competition from her best friend/arch-rival/closest cousin, Charlie, surely didn't hurt the process. Thanks, Cha!

So, while I loved cloth diapering, I can say I did not shed a tear when I washed those stinkers for the last time. When Violet finishes on the potty--usually after requesting a moment or two of 'quivacy'--she shouts, "Mommy, I knew I can do it!" We rush in to praise and ogle and say goodbye to her work as we flush it away. And I am proud.

Friday, January 21, 2011

The Horse That Launched a Room Renovation



Meet Trigger. No, he's not one of Sarah Palin's children, though I can see how the name might confuse people. He's the spring-loaded, Radio Flyer, bouncing horse who inspired Shawn and I to turn our rarely used 4th bedroom into a playroom last weekend. When Santa dropped Trigger at our house on Christmas Eve, he knew that the horse would need to find a permanent home somewhere other than on our main floor living area.

Our pie in the sky playroom would be a finished basement room, but since a couple of gallons of paint are way cheaper than drywalling a humid basement, we decided that we'd go upstairs for now. Violet's bedroom--a good sized room, might I add--is already packed full of toys. So we scrapped our office/guest bedroom/catch all crap room and devoted it to Violet. Now she has an office for her very important work. One wall got the chalkboard treatment and the other three walls took on a robin-egg blue. Shawn and I may love the chalkboard more than Violet does, but on the whole, the girl is thrilled with her playroom. She's had a lot of fun showing her "pwaywoom" to her cousins and her friend Avery. Hopefully, having one room devoted to toys will prevent us from having anymore parades like this one:




The parade in the photo was the result of 4 kids left unattended upstairs at our house during a potluck dinner last week. The kiddos took every single toy out of Violet's bedroom and closet, and then packed our hallway--the parade route, I assume--with said toys. We had a good laugh when they finally called us up to see the spectacle, and since we were planning on moving most of those toys into the new playroom after we finished it up over the weekend, so cleaning up the hallway was a cinch.

The thing about having a devoted play space for a two year old is that it is the playmates, not the room, that make it fun. Duh. Violet's imagination is getting so big and pretending is SO much more fun when you have someone else to dream with you. So, for now, Shawn and I will be spending a lot of time playing in our spare bedroom with Vi. But that's cool. I can't overstate how nice it is to NOT have a 35 lb rocking horse next to my fireplace anymore. Oh, and walking out of the playroom and closing the door on 3 dozen stuffed toys scattered all over the floor ain't too bad either!

Saturday, December 18, 2010

Technology Native


I expect to have to negotiate with my husband over who gets to use the laptop. We both have business to take care of, guilty pleasures to feed, and online shopping to complete.

I really didn't think I would have to share screen time with Violet at the tender age of 2 and a half. Her love affair with the Mac started at the hands of my mom who introduced her to YouTube videos of kitties and trains. "Kitty Moobie!" is still one of the most common phrases heard pre-tantrum around here, but Violet's repertoire of computer activities is growing.

After she navigated away from the kitten movies I had pulled up on YouTube and found herself--no kidding--viewing a Dr. Dre video, I asked her if she'd like to look at Sprout Online. Her response: "Spwout Onwine Dot Com?"

It has taken her about 4 tries to learn how to play all of the games on the Sprout website. She is dangerous with a mouse and way more dexterous than I gave her credit for. She will play Barney coloring games for 30 minutes at a time.

I can't decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing. It's like the discussion Shawn and I had in Target as we fretted over whether or not to buy her the claymation Rudolph movie. She saw it on TV and loved it, but we were torn. A big part of what we both remember about the Rudolph movie was that the night it aired became a red-letter day on our calendars. We remember the music, the commercials, the splendor of it all. It was special because it was only available to watch once a year. Would buying the Rudolph movie for Violet cheapen it or lessen her enjoyment of it?

We came to the conclusion that Violet is not going to consume media the way Shawn and I did. Her budding computer literacy is an example of that. She lives in a world of On Demand Calliou and a never-ending stream of kitten movies. We grew up watching television specials once a year (with commercials!) and having posters of kittens (or, in Shawn's case, race cars). There is no way we can make Violet's childhood the same as ours, nor should we.

So we bought the whole damn Christmas Treasury including Rudolph, Frosty, and Santa Claus is Coming to Town.

But I'm not going to let her watch them after New Year's Day or before Thanksgiving.

There have to be some rules, after all.

Monday, November 29, 2010

An Alternative to Water Boarding

I can't for sure say how well this would work when cracking a terrorist, but it seemed to drive a Lhasa Apso to her breaking point.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Thankfully

Thankfully, I can truly appreciate my mom now that I am a mom.

Thankfully, a glass of wine cuts my annoyance at picking up crayons for the 12th time today.

Thankfully, I get to work part-time.

Thankfully, I have a daughter with a healthy body and inquisitive mind.

Thankfully, Scout doesn't have to be put to sleep immediately.

Thankfully, I live close to my mother.

Thankfully, Violet is sleeping like an angel.

Thankfully, my siblings are still a big part of my life.

Thankfully, our marriage is the safest place I know.

Thankfully, cleaning up dog whizz is less tedious when said dog is on her last leg.

Thankfully, I threw out the Halloween candy before the pies arrive.

Thankfully, I found volunteer work that feeds my soul.

Thankfully, little boys are a part of my life even if I never have a son.

Thankfully, Shawn doesn't pick on me for being a little soft in the middle.

Thankfully, I have nutritious food to eat and usually have enough sense to choose it over Kit-Kats.

Thankfully, there are still interesting people to meet, books to read, and places to visit.

Thankfully, I was plunked down in the right place, during the right time, and among the right people. I have never known war or hunger or poverty. Amazingly, I am surrounded by people who love me and care for me and who show me how to do the same for others.

I am so fortunate and so, so, thankful.

Monday, November 8, 2010

The Bad Habit


This post has been a bitch to write. I write it because I believe wholeheartedly in the science behind it and I think parents simply aren't being given all of the choices when it comes to sleep. Humans have shared sleep for tens of thousands of years. We were designed for it. Our babies are expecting it. And, clearly, Violet rocks (in part) because of it!!

I spent the first Saturday of October at The Safe Sleep Symposium put on by Safe Sleep Indiana. I heard three speakers, all of them doctors, speak about how, where, and with whom, infants sleep the best. A lot of people may have been shocked by what these Notre Dame PhD's and MD's were saying. It likely isn't what you've been hearing from your TV or even your pediatrician.

They said that babies sleep the most soundly, the most safely, the most NORMALLY, with their mothers. The closer the better, as a matter of fact.

So why on earth are all of us terrified to take our tiny people to bed with us? Why are there billboards warning us to "Never Ever Sleep with Your Baby!" Why aren't our pediatricians offering us safe options for sharing a bed with our infants but instead suggesting that we let our babies cry alone in a crib?

I suspect the reasons are very complicated. I know that a lot of it is misinformation. No one in an authority role tells us that there are ways to safely bedshare. Because of that, we (I) fell asleep in a rocking chair at 4am while nursing, waking up scared shitless. Rightly so.

We (I) repeatedly put a newborn in a bassinet next to my bed and wonder what is wrong with her(!) when she wakes after 4 minutes.

We (I) lie to the nurse at the doctor's office when she asks the "Where does the baby sleep" question because when I answered truthfully--"With us" --I got the hairy eyeball.

I more than suspect that the Juvenile Products Manufacturers Association, a trade organization representing 95% of the prenatal and preschool industry, has a vested interest in seeing that parents are afraid to place their baby down to sleep in anything other than a JPMA sanctioned crib. The fact that the JPMA has co-sponsored the national campaign warning parents about the dangers of sleeping with their babies is reason enough to question the advice. I didn't notice a warning about the safety of cribs when 6 MILLION of them were recalled this year.

The biggest reason, though, that I think we are all frightened to death to sleep as humans have for, well, forEVER, is because no one admits to doing it. Or if they do admit to sleeping with their babies, the admission seems wacky. It is tainted because it comes from somebody fringy--too fringy to relate to. The parents who eat kefir and have chickens and still smoke pot.***

When more mainstream parents admit to bedsharing it is usually in a "We know we shouldn't but it just happened" kind of way. For instance: "We were so tired we all just collapsed into bed and didn't even realize that Janie was still sleeping between us. I hope it doesn't take a month to break her of her BAD HABIT."

I rarely hear parents who acknowledge the closeness and normalcy that bedsharing brings to their family. Discussions about how to make it work in the context of your life--how does everyone sleep? what time do you go to bed? is it every night? what about sex? will he still be in between us when he's 6?--these are the discussions that we need to be having about bedsharing and cosleeping. I usually don't hear parents whose little folk sleep with them who don't think this is some sort of terrible habit to be broken.

Some of the first candid, down-to-earth discussions I heard about sleep were with friends at my breastfeeding support group. When I heard these women relay their experience, it all started to click for me. No one was recommending I stand outside Vi's door while she cried. Shawn and I weren't bad parents for having Violet sleep with us. We were--dare I say, we are--very NORMAL.

Once I got over the vast majority of America (from Parents magazine--don't get me started on my loathing of that rag-- to my peds office), telling me that I should put Baby V down "drowsy, but awake" to establish healthy sleep habits from the start, I became comfortable with normal infant mother sleep routines. Instead of combing Parents for tips on how to traumatize my babe to sleep, I read tips for safely sharing sleep and was a changed mother.

Babies (and by babies, I mean people who are very small, wear diapers, have dimples, and can't cut meat), like to fall asleep close to the adult who can handle all the shit that they cannot. By close, I mean touching, if possible. The AAP now (finally!) recommends a "proximate sleeping environment" for infants. They go on to say, "The risk of SIDS has been shown to be reduced when the baby sleeps in the same room as the mother." And really, isn't SIDS what this whole scare campaign is about? They haven't recommended, and probably won't for quite awhile, bedsharing, but they are starting to see how key it is for littles to sleep close to bigs. How beneficial shared sleep is. How lifesaving.

Sleeping babies use their mother's bodies to help them regulate their temperature, regulate their breathing, and they rouse more frequently and easily than their solo-sleeping counterparts. (Trouble with arousal is a major SIDS risk.) Breastfeeding mothers who bedshare feed their babies more frequently, make more milk, and--hold on to your hats--report feeling LESS TIRED THAN THOSE WHO DO NOT BEDSHARE!!

More sleep for moms, huge benefits for babies, and listening to nature instead of crappy Parents magazine.

Three outstanding reasons to talk about bedsharing!

***I count quite a few kefir-eating, chicken-tending, perhaps even pot-smoking individuals among my favorite people and mean no disrespect. (Sharing a bed with a baby while under the influence of anything is just plain dumb, however!! I don't know people who do that!) I am just pointing out the fact that a lot of parents don't know what kefir is, think chickens still live in happy red barns, and haven't tried pot since that one night in college. We need to let them know that bedsharing is good for their babies, too!

Sunday, October 10, 2010

BIG


Lights come up on a warm living room scene.

Mother holds a very young girl close to her on the sofa. Father reads a book laying flat at the other end of the sofa. A dog is curled at their feet and there are toys scattered around on the floor.


Mother: (cooing) Are you my little snuggle girl?

Girl: Mm-hm. (She snuggles closer into her mother, they nuzzle. )

(Pause)


I wanna be tall like you and Daddy.

Mother: What?

Girl: I wanna be tall like you and Daddy. (sweetly, genuinely) I wanna be big like you and Daddy. I wanna be bigger like you and Daddy.

(Mother and Father's hearts break audibly.)


Lights dim.