Hunger Strike

I guess I just chalked up the fact that Connor will eat anything that you put in front of him, to our stellar parenting skills. I’m proud of it. You child may be able to play Mozart at 2 years old, but I bet he won’t eat, olives dipped in hummus or request hot sauce on her French fries. But now my bubble is burst.

Because as a general rule of thumb, if it’s not fried or filled with sugar, Tristan won’t eat it, unless it’s white. Fruits? Bananas, Apples. Cheese – Mozzarella, Saltine Crackers, or plain pasta. And so we’ve done the same thing with him that we did with Connor when he started to get picky. For the most part, if it’s what we are eating for dinner and you’ve eaten it previously with no complaining, you are eating it, or you will be hungry. But with Tristan… it’s not working.
Because Tristan will starve himself before he deigns to eat anything that’s not white. So you can imagine what a good mood he’s been in for the past three days, living on a diet of Bananas, Saltine Crackers and the noodles from Chicken Soup. Today, he wandered around the house crying and waddling over to the pantry, sobbing the word cookie over and over again. But I’m not giving in. Because this is where the parents get in trouble. In a desperate attempt to feed your child, something! Anything! To fill their little belly, you give them a cookie. I mean, it’s an oatmeal cookie after all. Well, oatmeal-chocolate chip. But when you are faced with such a tiny little soul, that you love with your heart and soul, screaming in hunger, you give in. And it begins.
I’m not sure if it makes me a good parent for standing my ground, or a bad parent for letting the baby be hungry. But it’s been a rough day with the kids and whether he eats cookies for dinner, or nothing at all because I’m holding my ground, it makes me feel like the worst parent in the world.

 

Timbeeeeeerrrrr

A tree fell from the back corner of our lot last week, snapping the swing set in half and missing the deck by about 2 feet. I wasn’t the slightest bit concerned that the tree could have hit and/or damaged the house. I had some sort of post traumatic – what could have happened, stress going on. If the kids would have been outside playing, they would have been by the swing set which is their usual haunt in the yard.
We borrowed a chain saw from my friend Amy and with the chain saw came the exceptional bonus of her husband Mike, who helped Jorma chop up the tree. They made short work of it, (easy for me to say, since I was in the house, minding children and cooking dinner), and the tree is all cleaned up. I guess there are some advantages to living in one of the neighborhoods where they chop down all of the trees in the subdivision.

Dear Connor - 3 Years, 4 Months

Dear Connor,

In your world it's always Halloween... but with less candy. Dress up is the most fun of all, second only to playing any game involving monsters, pirates or dragons. I've been a little concerned about the obsession with monsters and things that go bump in the night. Each morning you wake to tell us about the monsters that you saw or played with while you were sleeping.
At your pre-school parent teacher conference, your teacher even mentioned that you are quite obsessed with monsters. She said that she always tells you that there is no such thing as monsters, which is something that we also tell you. At some point along the way, your Dad and I decided that who cares if you are into monsters? What if you grow up to get your PhD in Roman Mythology? Who are we to decide what creatures you invent to play with?

And oh the dressing up. How many clothes can you put on at once? Well, that depends on how many clothes you have access to. In the picture below, you are wearing 7 shirts, a sweater vest, sweater, 5 pair of pants and 6 pair of socks. Oh, and those are pants on your head. You so love the pants on your head that the other day, Tristan toddled over to me with a pair of Diego underwear that he found in your dresser and insisted that I put it on his head... because that's what brother does.

You are maintaining the 3 year old stereotype by making sure that you talk back to Mommy or Daddy at least twice a day. You never know what to say, or how to express yourself so you end up pointing at us and yelling, "I'm going to lock you up in a high tower!" or some other such nonsense, which only proves, it's not actually what is said, but how it's said. Usually there is a time out involved with these infractions, although usually they've occurred because you are angry that you were put into time out for something else to begin with. It's still amusing to see 40 inches of red faced madness, pointing at me while yelling, "I'm going to smash you out of the house!"

You are taking more of an interest in other children. Some of them you like, some of them you don't, but you are proud to announce that this or that child is your best friend. You don't like that child because she always takes toys from your or this child because he whispers when he talks. It's amazing to watch the playgroup politics unfold as you learn to make up games and engage other children in activity running together like a pack of dogs at the park. It's so refreshing for me to watch you play without unfolding drama. The hitting and crying is replaced by, sharing and smiling and when you approach a new child to play, the expression on your face is one of expectation and hope. You look so fragile as you wait for some sign or signal that it's ok to join in play. It's fascinating to watch the buds of social evolution begin to emerge but I want you to know that I'll always be your friend. Even when you are embarrassed to be seen with me in public.
Love,
Mommy

Free is Me

Dude, I’m totally addicted to Freecycle.org I was on it a while back, but didn’t have it set up the way I do now so I never checked it. It’s through a Yahoo Group, so it works by email. I have it so that it forwards to a folder, so I can check it in real time, instead of waiting for it to all come to me in digest form, which is one of the Yahoo Group options. Now I don’t even have to look at it unless I want to. And I want to.
I can’t stop looking at the stuff that people are giving away/receiving. I haven’t given anything away or received anything from anyone, yet, it’s just fun to watch the flow of junk circulating on the group. I mean, the clothes, the shoes, the furniture and strollers. I admit, there are some things that I’m snobbish about and would prefer to purchase new than use a hand-me-down, but bookcases aren’t one of those things. Now if someone will just give one away.

Such a great idea. Want to get rid of it? Post it on Freecycle and someone will come over and take it away. You don’t even have to see them if you leave it on the porch. If having someone come to your house that you don’t know, or going to someone else’s house that you don’t know skeeves you out a little, (and it’s prudent to be cautious) you can always meet in a grocery store parking lot or something. But giving stuff to people that can use it, keeps more crap out of the landfill, provides receivers with things to love and hooks the giver up with a little bit of good karma. I love it.

Computer Diagram

Computer Diagram
Originally uploaded by Dewchild

Old School Baby!

Old Dell Ad

Old Dell Ad
Originally uploaded by Dewchild

Raise your hand if you remember when this was top of the line.

Dear Tristan - 17 Months

Dear Tristan,
I’ve said this before and I’m saying it again. One day you are going to turn around and knock the crap out of your brother… and I’m going to pretend like I didn’t even see it. I can see how rivalry forms. I see the seeds in your brother who doesn’t understand why you are allowed to throw food on the floor and he is not. Why you do not get put into time out for snatching that sucker out of his hands or for trying to climb the gate. To him it looks like he has rules to follow, but you do not.

It’s getting close to the time for you to have rules to follow. You still don’t quite understand the whole “No” thing. You know that it means you aren’t supposed to do whatever it is that you are doing, but don’t remember the next day, (or next hour) not to do it again. Your impulse control is pretty good for one so small and it’s starting to get a little easier with the both of you.
Although I feel like I must mention that no matter how much talking to, or distraction we give you, trying to climb into the dishwasher… Never. Gets. Old. It doesn’t matter what you are doing, you will stop and toddle over to investigate. Oh the wonder! Oh, all of the different smells! I’ve taken to loading or unloading when you are strapped into your highchair, so you simply sit and eat, gazing at the open dishwasher like it’s an episode of Blue’s Clues. Also, knocking the keyboard and mouse off of the desk tray. As soon as your Dad or I leave the computer, you come barreling in at full speed, because you know that the keyboard has returned to it’s proper location and you will at all costs put a stop to THAT.

And oh the running around the house. There is nothing cuter that you fast-walking while making little side to side figure 8 motions with your head, except maybe just you running in general, which looks like you are doing the twist while jogging. You love to run. In fact, you seldom walk to get from place to place. Walking is reserved for areas that are too close for even a short sprint.
Last week, I turned you and Connor loose in the backyard and then sat out on the deck and read my book while you played, only having to look up for minor fussing or to reiterate that we do NOT hit with sticks. It was the first time in three years I’ve been able to do that and that little bit of quiet time was enough to fill me up for the rest of the day.

You’ve moved to the table for dinner. This week, I tossed aside your high chair try and moved you to the table with a paper plate. It took once or twice for you to determine if you threw the plate on the floor you were finished with your food, but once you decided it was much more fun to eat than toss the plate, you were good to go.
I’ve also packed up your bottles, determined to put you to bed with a sippy at night instead and well, you are pretty pissed about it. The past few times we’ve put you down, we hand you the sippy and you yell NO! and then throw it. You yell in rage, for about 60 seconds and then settle down to go to sleep. And that is how we weaned you from the bottle.

You will slide down the slides at the park that the big kids go down. You will climb anything that the big kids climb. It has never even occurred to you that you can’t do this or that. To quote a Star Wars character, (this is at LEAST 50 geek points) “Do or do not. There is no try” I love that, because I know, as long as you believe in you, like we do, you’ll be just fine.
Love,
Mommy

Free Love

Has everyone seen this site? The one where you can trade your books for free? Why am I just finding out about this. And further. Why in the hell didn’t I think of it? I just posted several books that we Jorma elected to give away. They were snatched right up. As soon as I establish points I will be able to mooch books for us, something that I’m really excited about, since we have five billion books upstairs, (yes that’s just an exaggeration, it’s really only a million) that we’ve read and won’t read again.

Now if someone would just create a site for free bookshelves, we’re good to go.

 

Love, Dr. Strange Norrell

One of the good things about being broke for the past year is that with no money to spend on the things that could be fun to do I was able to catch up on my reading list. I have a fairly lengthy waiting list that sits next to the bed, mixed with magazines that must be flipped through in between novels. I just checked Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell off of the list. It’s not just a book, it’s a Book with a capital B to the O-O-K. It took me about 400 pages to really get interested in it and the only reason that I stuck with it that long was because, well, I wasn’t reading anything else and the stomach flu knocked me so hard on my ass that, it seemed too much effort to walk all the way down the hallway to choose something else of interest.
It’s 700-something pages and on the back cover, reviews from legitimate sources claim it’s in the genre of the Hobbit and the next great work of fantasy literature. I’m not sure if they were reading the same book that I was reading. I mean, it was good, but far from brilliant and comparing it to Tolkien. Well, that’s just plain silly. One of the things that I did really love and also hate about the book were the massive amount of foot notes, some spanning 3 pages.¹

I loved the Fairy lore too, although to me the book was more about the struggle of ego than magicians and fairies. If you read it, drop me a line, I’d love to know what you thought. ²

 

1.        I both love and hate foot notes in general. Love - because I constantly an punctuating my thinking patterns with other side thoughts before coming back full circle again, so it sort of reflects the way that I think, but hate, because I feel obligated to read a footnote immediately, which disrupts the rhythm of my reading and pisses me off.

2.        Jorma’s read it too and thought it was just too damned, “English”

Random Parenting Tip #47

Never let them see you put a Q-Tip in your ear. (or pick your nose)

Sunlight in My Universe

Recently we’ve made a change in the Case de Dewchild. We removed the baby gate from the hallway.
If you’ve spent any amount of time in our house you know which gate. Yes, THAT gate. The one that you couldn’t figure out how to work until Connor came up and showed you. The gate that always squeaks and wobbles like it’s going to fall right off of the wall. The gate that catches your purse as you walk by, the gate that grabs your jacket. The one that Jorma has racked himself self on twice of that I know for sure and the same gate that left a black bruise the size of a quarter on his thigh. Because this is the hell we endure to have a kid free room, the office.
Now beating the hell out of us was one thing, but the day that Tristan waddled over with a knot precisely the size of a nickel on his head, precisely in the place where the catch on the gate door hit him, we were done. That son of a bitch was coming down.
Now just so you know why we’ve kept that gate up… the hallway is around 48” wide. Try finding a baby gate for less than $100.00 that will fit that. There are some that go to 48” but it has to be exactly 48” and well, ours is actually 48.25”. So that’s why we had the crappy gate to begin with. We I didn’t want to spend a bunch of money that we didn’t have.
We took the gate down, which means we had to clean up the office and make it a little more child friendly since we blocked off the stairs only and the kids have run of the rest of the house. In order to clean up the desk in the office, we first had to find somewhere for all of that crap to live. So I cleaned out the pie safe that holds well, other junk that was living in there because it didn’t have anywhere to live. So, we moved said junk upstairs, or into the downstairs coat closet (which also had to be cleaned out) desk junk to pie safe, added some outlet covers and child locked the CPU door on the desk. We had to pass word protect the system, to keep the kids from moving folders on the desktop to the trash or forwarding random emails to people, but other than three days or re-organizing it wasn’t much work.
Just taking the gate down, unlocked some sort of crazy chi flow through the house and now it feels more like a house. The office is actually cleaner now than it ever was when it was kid free because we can’t have crap laying all of the desk. I love being able to walk from the office to the kitchen hands free. It has improved everyone’s quality of life.

Everyone has those things. The things that bug the crap out of you, those little things that you mean to get fixed or change or whatever needs to be done but never do. So, my challenge to you is, do that one little thing that’s been driving you nuts. Cut that hangnail, replace that paper towel holder. If you can’t remember what that thing is, next time you are reminded, vow then and there to do something about it. Change your world.

Giving Up the Most

Today my Moms Club had their annual Valentine’s party. Valentine’s Day is a difficult holiday for me, basically because I think it’s a load of crap. Yes, I know the history of the holiday and still firmly believe it’s a holiday that’s been over hyped by the greeting card companies to sell some dead trees greeting cards. I mean, St. Valentine? I’m not even Catholic.
It’s a fun holiday for the kids, because it breaks of the dry spell of no-candy between Christmas and Easter. Sure, the cards are important too, but truly it wasn’t the Dora Valentine’s Day card that made Connor’s eye’s glaze over with love, as much as it was the heart shaped sucker stuck to the front with Scotch tape.
The party was held at a local sweet shop that makes their own confections. The kids got to dip marshmallows in chocolate and run around peering at the display cases. It smelled like heaven. There were chocolates in hands reach that could just be plucked off of the table for purchase. It sounds like the only thing that could complete this party is a bunch of live bunnies and bluebirds, but while it sounds like a good time. For me. It was just a little slice of hell.
I had both of the boys with me. I had critically arranged napping and snack schedules to promote the best mood and best behavior at this event. You don’t want my boys running around anywhere with low blood sugar. Ohno. My intentions while good, did nothing to prevent the proverbial road to hell from being paved. Tristan weights 26 lbs and was held almost the entire time we were at the party. Thank God, I don’t work the mouse with my left arm or I wouldn’t be able to post this entry as it’s still burning from over an hour of holding 26 lbs of straining, wiggling baby yearning to be free. He wanted down so badly, because he could see that Connor was touching EVERYTHING and he wanted some of THAT action.
“Look at that! Connor just made Mommy purchase a $2.00 chocolate baseball glove by pulling it off the counter and (lovingly) rubbing it with his fingers! I’m in!”
So, I would let Tristan down, he would run one way, Connor would run the other and I’d have to make a split second choice of which one to follow based on individual calculations including, proximity to other Moms, (Moms that I though might actually stop a child from climbing on top of a display case), the door to the parking lot and the tables filled with bowls (unattended) of liquid chocolate for dipping. There was only one other person there that has two children close to my kids age and when I looked up to see her, she was gone. She was smart.
As soon as I finally wrangled my two little ones and got them strapped into the car, Connor announced that he had to go potty, oh wait, no he didn’t anymore, but a clean diaper might be nice. I was ready to cry.
And this is what I determined from this experience.
I’m done.
Done with anything that involves the following:
- My two children unrestrained in a public place
- Any public place where there is anything below 3 feet that can be broken, eaten or otherwise forced for me to purchase due to one of the former actions

Not forever, just until this stage is a little more manageable. Now, this doesn’t cramp my lifestyle much since we don’t do a whole lot of eating in restaurants, going to movies or well, anything else, but at least I’ve seen the truth. I can’t be two places at once. And there’s no point in sacrificing my sanity trying.
Ya know, sometimes giving up, feels pretty damn good.