how do you handle it?

OK. My kids are generally good, but we do have a bit of trouble convincing them to care for their toys. They simply do not understand why they should not stand on things, or why things should not be chewed on or thrown or whatever. It feels like I am constantly reminding them to corral the small toys so that all the pieces do not get lost (remember Polly Pocket's flip flop?). I feel like it's a constant battle to get them to respect their things and treat them right.

So, today, The Boy was playing with his Etch-a-Sketch. He got it for his birthday, and he loves it. He just makes squiggles on it for now, but he really enjoys it, and I remember really loving mine when I was a kid, too. It makes me happy that he seems to like it as much as I did. He played with it for a while as I was on the computer, and he left it on the floor near my chair. Enter The Babe.

The Babe comes in to ask me something, walks right up to my chair, and just stands on the Etch-a-Sketch. All 50 pounds of her. *crack* We heard it. She broke it. It's just a small crack in the corner, but the little sketching doo-dad is trapped in that corner now, and no matter how much you turn the dials, it's just stuck. Broken. She broke one of The Boy's favorite toys because she cannot be bothered to pay attention to where she walks or stands. Now, I know he shouldn't have left it on the floor, but you can't tell me you don't notice that you are standing on an Etch-a-Sketch and not the floor. I simply cannot be convinced.

So, here's my dillema. The Babe is a sensitive soul, and she feels really terrible that she broke The Boy's toy. She started to cry, and she immediately told me she was sorry over and over again. But, the fact remains that she knows better. She's been told countless times that her carelessness would lead to something just like this. As a mother, I am torn. Do I comfort her because I know she feels terrible? Or do I punish her for being careless? And you know, I had an instant to decide.

I told her I knew it was an accident, but I explained that she knows better, and she needs to be more careful. I did give her a hug as she cried, comforting mode kind of took over, but I still can't shake that she got off pretty easy. The Boy does not yet know that his toy is broken. I can't decide what to do about that, either. Do I throw this one away and stealthily replace it? Or, do I make The Babe tell The Boy what happened, tell him she's sorry, and then replace it down the road a bit? I am leaning toward option #2, simply because it might teach The Babe to take responsibility. Yes. I think that's the plan. Thanks for helping me think it through.

making progress.... ???

I should take the ??? out of the title, because it *is* progress. Really, it is. It's just that my lazy behind is in for some trouble.

We're in a potty training rut. The Boy's status has not really changed since July. He was so early with potty training, and we were thrilled... but it's been no improvement for so long, that I find myself so frustrated, even though he is ahead of where The Babe was at this same age. Generally speaking, The Boy has tinkled in the potty consistently since last July. He still wears a diaper for his nap (which there is no nap anymore, so I don't know why I mention it), and a diaper to bed. The nighttime diaper is always soaked in the morning. He will request a diaper if he needs to poop. He will not poop in the potty. Ever.

It is not unusual for The Boy to awake during the night. Most nights he sleeps through, but some nights he is awake. When he wakes up, he just sits in his bed and screams until I get there. Usually, he just wants me to turn his songs (it's a Bach CD) back on. Sometimes, he's had a bad dream. Always, as soon as I go in there and soothe him for a moment, he's back to sleep quickly, so it's not so bad.

Tonight, at around 1:00 am, I heard The Boy screaming. I was still awake working in my office, so it wasn't bad. Or so I thought. I got to his room, and he is sitting on his bed screaming. He says to me "My need to tinkle". I admit, part of me wanted to say "well that's what the damn diaper is for, don't bother me with this at 1:00 am!". But the part of me that is a better mother than that realized that I needed to take him to the bathroom. So, off we went... sleepy boy in bathroom. Peel off blanket sleeper? check! Pull down pants? check! Remove totally dry diaper? check! Prop sleepy boy up next to the toilet and hope he remembers to aim? (he did) check!... Now, put diaper back on The Boy while he is standing up, pull on pants, pull up sleeper, zip him all back up and carry him back to bed.

Of course, this has been quite a production, so now I have an entirely awake Boy at 1:00 am. "Mommy, my want to sleep with you" "No, not my room, Mommy!". Sorry, kiddo, but Mommy isn't even in bed yet.

So. You can see why I am torn. Of course this is progress. His tinkle woke him up and he realized he needed to go to the bathroom. But MY GOD, the middle of the night hassles this will create... *sigh*

The Babe still comes to get me when she has to tinkle in the middle of the night. Between the two of them, I may never sleep again.

cars

It was not that long ago that LaLaLa Beth ruined the movie Cars for me. LMFAO. It wasn't her fault. How could any self-respecting mother of two small children not have seen Cars? It was utter craziness! At that time, we had just obtained our copy of the movie, and I just hadn't had a chance to actually watch it myself. That was, oh, maybe 3 weeks ago.

Now? Now, you ask? Why, I have seen the movie Cars probably 9,362 times. Not quite, but that's how it feels. The Boy loves this movie. Loves. It. It *must* be watched at least once a day, sometimes 2 or 3 times if The Babe is feeling generous. His favorite part is when they play "Sh-Boom" and light up the little city with all the repaired neon (now, I hope I didn't spoil anything for you, that's not really the end...) The Boy will come running from wherever he may be when he hears that song, and if he is missing it, The Babe will call him to let him know. Very Cute.

Anyhow, this has sparked a whole new area of interest. The Boy is constantly demanding that I go "super fast" when we are in the car. Ka-chow! The Kiddos have all kind of races, wherever they are going. The Boy talks all the time about "stinging like a beaver" I tried to correct him once. Once. He was having none of it. "No Mommy, sting like a beaver!". But today took the cake. Today for the first time, I heard The Kiddos arguing over which of them won the Piston Cup in the race to the bath. LOL.

Kids. Cars. It's a winning combination.

good to be home

Well, my vacation is over. I did survive. I can be a person without the kids... I even practiced being brave on the airplane in preparation for our family vacation in June. I did OK until there was some serious turbulence on the flight there. I squeezed my husband's hand really tight and didn't say anything. What will I do when it's The Boy sitting next to me, and not my husband? I guess I will squeeze his hand tight, pretending to comfort him; when really it's me who will need comforting. LOL. Maybe it won't be so bad.

So, vacation was good. I went to bed early whenever I wanted. I took a nap some of the days. I slept until I was ready to get up (which is never past 8:00 there, but still...) I didn't have to listen for anyone crying during the night. I ate good food. I had breakfast every day - - eggs, bacon, hash browns, oatmeal, coffee, juice. In fact, we ate so well at breakfast each day that we didn't eat again until dinner. 2 meals a day might have been a bit of a money saver if it hadn't been for my absolute need for a Starbucks Chai each and every day. Those are expensive anyways, but the Starbucks in the hotel is WAY overpriced.

I did a lot of walking and managed to NOT get bad blisters or arthritic knees. We probably walked 5-10 miles each day, just going back and forth from place to place to place. Vegas is like that, and we never cab it. We are walkers.

All in all, it was a great trip. I am not any richer than when I left, but I am not any poorer, either. I had a nice time with my husband. I missed my children and felt a bit refreshed and ready to be back home and tackle the day to day with them again.

Now... we start preparing for Disney World... June, 2007. Sooner than you think...

vacation

My husband and I will be going on vacation this week. Unlike last time, when we stayed home and I felt all weird looking at my office and not working, we are actually leaving town. We leave on Sunday and get back on Friday. No kids allowed.

I have been looking forward to this trip for a long time. We did not get away at all last year, and it shows. We are tired. We could use a break. We need to just have grown up time, so we can act like kids, LOL. I want to sleep as late as I want, eat whatever I want, do whatever I want. I want to have a meal without arguing with someone over how much is an appropriate amount to eat, and without dealing with the tears that come when I say "no you may not be excused, please eat more ______".

But, I am dreading it at the same time. First of all, I don't fly well. So the airplane ride really puts a damper on things for me. I get through the first ride there, and then I have fun, but hanging over my head is the fact that I still have one more airplane ride to go. Argh. At least this time I can be my regular nervous self. Come June, when we vacation with the kids, I will have to be Brave Mommy and act like flying is no big deal at all... while inside I will be melting from the fear.

Besides the airplane ride, though, is the sense that I don't really want to leave The Kiddos. Yes, they are the ones from whom I am planning an escape. They are a big reason why I need this vacation... but they are the ones whom I hate to leave. I don't like the idea of missing anything that happens, and I worry about not being there in case something *does* happen. I thrive on the comfort and routine of home as much as they do, and leaving it, and leaving them, does not sit well with me. But, it's not the first time, and it won't be the last... they have a wonderful time without us here.

Just today, The Babe told me "Mommy, I can't wait for tomorrow", and I asked her why. She said "because Gramma is coming for a WHOLE WEEK!". The fact that my husband and I are leaving is like a foot note to the fact that Gramma will be here for a whole week, so I know The Kiddos will be fine. I think I will be, too. I hope.

laugh or cry?

Two posts in two days! Can you believe it? It's so unusual, and if the story I am about to tell you hadn't happened, and if I didn't feel the need to get it down while it was still fresh in my head, I would never be posting again so soon.

This morning, The Babe and The Boy were playing together in the living room, which is right at the bottom of the stairs. I was upstairs getting dressed, and Daddy had just gotten out of the shower, so The Kiddos were unsupervised. The Boy starts wailing. Really crying, and saying "Owwwiiiee, Owie!" over and over through the tears. The Babe is talking to him soothingly (is that a word?), and it sounds like she is trying to explain something, but I can't quite catch it. All I heard was "why did you ask if that's not what you wanted".

I come out of my bedroom and look over the railing to the foyer, and I can see The Kiddos near the bottom of the stairs. The Boy is lying on the floor, crying, kind of rolling back and forth. He is holding is leg or arm or tummy, I can't quite tell. So, I ask The Babe what happened. She tells me, talking a mile a mintue "I was so confused, Mommy. He asked me to kick him, and I didn't understand why he would want me to kick him, but he asked me to kick him", and then she starts to cry. The poor Babe is thoroughly freaked out that she kicked The Boy, for no reason other than that he asked her to; and that he was hurt, and she felt so terrible and she just burst into tears and was more inconsolable than he was.

I rushed downstairs and soothed her a bit, and she clung tight, sobbing. Meanwhile Daddy had come out of the bedroom, and The Boy was still rolling on the floor saying "owie", so I sent The Babe up to her Daddy while I comforted The Boy. I can hear The Babe upstairs "But I thought he asked me to kick him, I thought that's what he wanted". The Boy says he didn't ask to be kicked. So, there was apparently a big misunderstanding.

The Boy is fine. She kicked him in the leg, and he has a small bruise, but he recovered very quickly. The Babe was very shaken up by the whole thing. Part of me wanted to burst out laughing because the whole situation was so ridiculous! I mean honestly, even if he asked to be kicked, I can't believe she did it! But, the fact that she was so remorseful made it easier to keep the laughs inside. Frankly, I'm proud of her. It speaks volumes to me that she felt so terrible about it. The Boy went upstairs to find The Babe and he gave her a big hug. That helped her to feel better, too.

wondering...

I am wondering what it might be like to have more children. I love my kids. It's nice that we have one of each, a Babe and a Boy. Their age difference is pretty ideal. They get along really well most of the time. They are thoughtful and considerate, well-behaved little gems. I love them dearly. I love our family dynamic. We are a content group. Four seems to be a good number for us.

But....

My husband and I are taking a vacation next week. Much needed. We will be leaving The Kiddos in the care of Gramma L. I realized today that the last time we had a vacation, The Babe was about the age that The Boy is now. Not exact, but almost. Wow. For some reason, that really hit me. I think it is because I thought of her as so big, even back then. Does that mean I have to admit that The Boy is so big now? He went to his gym class without me, and was FINE. He's big. I should just deal with that and move on.

Many of my Gardening Mommy friends are pregnant, and when I hear about doctor visits or pregnancy talk, a part of me wants it to be me. I want to experience all that again... even the yucky parts. I feel a bit jealous. This week, a fellow Gardening mommy had a baby girl. She talked about taking the baby home from the hospital and I felt really remorseful that I don't have a baby to care for. I love the teeny-tiny infant stage so much, even the no sleep and the constant nursing. I miss it and The Kiddos are SO BIG now (did I mention that?).

But, we are a happy group of four. I have been digging deep and thinking hard. I honestly think that while I enjoyed the experience of being pregnant and I long for a teeny baby to care for, I don't really want another real live person in this house. Let's face it, that teeny baby will grow up, too.

I will just have to be content to hold the babies of my friends, and then go home to my perfect family of four. And you know what? I am content. Things here are just right.

big day

Today was The Boy's first class without me. *cry* I knew it would be harder on me than it would be on him. I knew that. But I wasn't really prepared for that.

I signed The Boy up for a class called "Kids on the Move". It is for 3 year olds and the purpose of the class is to prepare the kids for being in classes without a parent around. The Boy had been taking a class called "Mini-Gym", which is essentially the same as Kids on the Move, except for the fact that I was there with him in Mini-Gym. We did everything together. Kids on the Move is in the same room with all the same equipment and has one of the same teachers. It could not have been a more ideal situation for his first experience sans parent.

The teacher, Miss Rosie, met us all in the lobby area and explained the rules. She had the kids line up and follow her into the room. I just stood there and waved to The Boy, and he smiled, waved back, and trooped into the room. When the class was over, Miss Rosie led the group back out into the lobby. I could see The Boy looking around for me, so I waved, and he instantly smiled, waved back, and ran over. "My love to go to gym class by myself. My had fun!"

So, it was a success, teary eyed mommy notwithstanding.

The Babe also had a big day. Today she swung on the swing all by herself. I know we are late with this milestone, but she has insisted that she needs a push. We decided that she wouldn't get pushes anymore because the problem wasn't that she couldn't swing by herself, it was that she wouldn't swing by herself. The result of our resolution had been that The Babe would just sulk off and not swing at all. But today, she did it! I must tell you I am so relieved, and The Babe was very proud. She made me promise to let her tell daddy herself, and we are all just tickled pink.

little surprises

Sometimes, The Kiddos surprise me. Sometimes, I am expecting the worst and I get the best instead. Of course, sometimes, it turns out the other way around... but let's not focus on that.

This past weekend, Gramma J and Grampa J were supposed to come for a nice long visit. That's not how it played out. Grampa J fell. He spent a few days in the hospital instead of at my house. He is doing well and is at home, and for that we are very grateful. We love you, Grampa J! But, The Kiddos were a tad disappointed when they got the news that the much anticipated visit was a no-go. I expected that. I knew they would be disappointed, and honestly, if they hadn't been disappointed, I would have been disappointed in that, if that makes any sense at all. But, The Boy surprised me. He asked a lot of questions that I never expected out of a three year old. "How did Grampa fall?", "Was the floor slippery?", "Where is Grampa hurt?"... don't those seem like such big boy questions? I had not told The Kiddos that Grampa was in the hospital. I had simply said that he fell and was hurt, and he needed to rest in bed. But Grampa told them he was in the hospital when they spoke on the phone. I expected that this would frighten The Kiddos, but it did not. They surprised me. They asked if the doctors were helping to make Grampa better, and when I said yes, they seemed content with that.

Now, since Gramma and Grampa J could not come, I had a weekend of time to fill. As it turns out, Grampa D is starting his own business; a retail menswear store. I took The Kiddos to see Grampa D's store. It is due to open this Wednesday, and daddy has been going every day to help Grampa get ready. The Kiddos were excited to see the store, and I was glad to have somewhere to go. How long would you expect a small, half full, menswear store to entertain your kids? I thought we had 20-30 minutes, tops. The Kiddos surprised me. During our visit, I started to help get things ready... items tagged and labeled, taken out of plastic, etc... 2.5 hours later, my kids were tired, but still behaving very well! They had found it to be very entertaining to help with the trash, and had kept themselves busy.... no TV, no toys, no books, and almost no attention. They helped Grampa with his store, and they are proud that they did.

This evening, The Boy had an accident. He wet his pants, which does not happen often. We got him changed right away and moved along with our evening. At bedtime we found that his blue babies were soaked. Ummm... uh-oh. We hadn't realized that when The Boy wet his pants he had also wet his babies. The babies have been an absolute bedtime necessity for quite some time, about two years. I am sure you would agree, but I could not let The Boy take the tinkle-soaked babies to bed. I explained this to him, and he was upset. He was disappointed. But he handled it well. He surprised me. I told him I would put them in the wash and bring them to him as soon as they were "nice clean". He seemed OK with that, in a quiet and sad way. Then The Babe shows up. She had already been tucked into her bed, but she overheard about The Boy and his babies. She appears in The Boy's room with one of her favorite stuffed animals, and says "I just wanted to offer to let him sleep with Puppy, since he can't have his babies". The Babe surprised me with her compassion and generosity. The Boy said thank you to The Babe, and everyone fell asleep just fine.

The Kiddos surprised me a lot this weekend. It's been good.... and I love them very much.