We are not the only ones with crazy, death-defying children. I may have read this at work and I may have laughed out loud in a completely inappropriate way. Maybe.
http://dooce.com/2010/10/28/danger-ahead
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Sleeeeep
One of the last things the kids do at night before bed is brush their teeth. Last night, as Ree was standing at the sink barely able to hold up her toothbrush, she looked at me and said, "Mom, I have no energy." Rather than pointing out the obvious, I thought I'd lead her there. I asked if she ate healthy foods all day. Yes. (At least in her mind.) I told her I knew she had taken her vitamin. Then I asked if she had taken a nap. Nope. I then gently pointed out that she was probably just tired. Oh.
Getting the kids to sleep enough is something I struggle with, especially with Ree. Her bedtime is 8:00, but it's not unusual for her to stay up until 8:30 or 8:45. Sometimes it's because we have to much going on and just don't get her to bed that quickly. Other nights she just stalls and stalls and stalls. And on the stalling nights, it's hard to be too mean about enforcing bedtime since it's obvious she's stalling in order to spend more time with us. If we just made her go to bed, she wouldn't get any more sleep, because she would just lay awake in bed angry, frustrated, and disappointed. She is such a girl. And Ree will sleep in until 8:00 or 8:30 in the morning to catch up on sleep. The problem is her brothers, especially Michael.
Michael is the kid who doesn't sleep. I was just reading that toddlers need 12 - 14 hours of sleep a day. Some days we feel like Michael sleeps 2 - 4 hours a day. The kid just doesn't want to sleep. And it doesn't help that when he wakes up, he is WIDE awake. He is my child.
He was actually doing a little better with sleeping in the mornings. He had started sleeping until 6:30 - 6:45, so two weeks ago I got the silly idea of working out in the morning. The first week, it went great. Last week he must've sensed I was up, even though I work out in the dark with the TV on mute (I do workout DVDs), and I am careful not to do any normal person morning stuff like flush a toilet or wash my face. So last week he started waking up between 6:15 and 6:20. I still worked out, I just had to listen to him moan (it's his version of whining) for the last few minutes.
But this week he apparently decided enough was enough. At Monday, he was up at 5:45. I listened to him moan for 5 minutes, then went in to try to tuck him back in bed thinking that it was early enough and dark enough that I had a chance. I calmly told him it was still night-night time and tried to put a blanket over him. That so didn't work. He started SCREAMING, which, of course, woke up his brother. Leon is a more normal person and wakes up groggy, especially when awoken at 5:45 when he would also prefer to sleep until 7:30 or 8:00 in the morning. So Leon started crying. I told them night-night again and left the room. They quieted down for a few minutes, but they were up for the day. And, of course, it wasn't long before they made enough noise to wake up their sister.
The boys were so exhausted on Monday that they fell asleep in the car at 9:15 in the morning on the way home from dropping off Ree at preschool. They slept until 11:00, but that was it for naps that day. They were not going to make their 12 - 14 hours.
Being the Pollyanna I am, I thought for sure they would sleep on Tuesday morning to catch up. On Tuesday morning, my alarm went off at 6:00. My first thought was, "Wow! I get to work out!" Before I could even turn it off, I heard Michael moan. Doh. And I would like to point out that my alarm is my cell phone on vibrate on the nightstand next to my bed. Michael sleeps at the other end of the house with a box fan next to his bed. There is no possible way he could've heard it. He could just sense the change in energy in the house.
Given my failing efforts on Monday morning, I decided to take a different approach. I walked in and found him sitting up in bed facing the door. He waved and said, "Hi, Mama!" Leon was still passed out. So I quietly ASKED this time if he wanted to go back to sleep. He stood up, smiled, and said, "No, silly!"
I hate it when he uses my own phrases (correctly!) against me.
Getting the kids to sleep enough is something I struggle with, especially with Ree. Her bedtime is 8:00, but it's not unusual for her to stay up until 8:30 or 8:45. Sometimes it's because we have to much going on and just don't get her to bed that quickly. Other nights she just stalls and stalls and stalls. And on the stalling nights, it's hard to be too mean about enforcing bedtime since it's obvious she's stalling in order to spend more time with us. If we just made her go to bed, she wouldn't get any more sleep, because she would just lay awake in bed angry, frustrated, and disappointed. She is such a girl. And Ree will sleep in until 8:00 or 8:30 in the morning to catch up on sleep. The problem is her brothers, especially Michael.
Michael is the kid who doesn't sleep. I was just reading that toddlers need 12 - 14 hours of sleep a day. Some days we feel like Michael sleeps 2 - 4 hours a day. The kid just doesn't want to sleep. And it doesn't help that when he wakes up, he is WIDE awake. He is my child.
He was actually doing a little better with sleeping in the mornings. He had started sleeping until 6:30 - 6:45, so two weeks ago I got the silly idea of working out in the morning. The first week, it went great. Last week he must've sensed I was up, even though I work out in the dark with the TV on mute (I do workout DVDs), and I am careful not to do any normal person morning stuff like flush a toilet or wash my face. So last week he started waking up between 6:15 and 6:20. I still worked out, I just had to listen to him moan (it's his version of whining) for the last few minutes.
But this week he apparently decided enough was enough. At Monday, he was up at 5:45. I listened to him moan for 5 minutes, then went in to try to tuck him back in bed thinking that it was early enough and dark enough that I had a chance. I calmly told him it was still night-night time and tried to put a blanket over him. That so didn't work. He started SCREAMING, which, of course, woke up his brother. Leon is a more normal person and wakes up groggy, especially when awoken at 5:45 when he would also prefer to sleep until 7:30 or 8:00 in the morning. So Leon started crying. I told them night-night again and left the room. They quieted down for a few minutes, but they were up for the day. And, of course, it wasn't long before they made enough noise to wake up their sister.
The boys were so exhausted on Monday that they fell asleep in the car at 9:15 in the morning on the way home from dropping off Ree at preschool. They slept until 11:00, but that was it for naps that day. They were not going to make their 12 - 14 hours.
Being the Pollyanna I am, I thought for sure they would sleep on Tuesday morning to catch up. On Tuesday morning, my alarm went off at 6:00. My first thought was, "Wow! I get to work out!" Before I could even turn it off, I heard Michael moan. Doh. And I would like to point out that my alarm is my cell phone on vibrate on the nightstand next to my bed. Michael sleeps at the other end of the house with a box fan next to his bed. There is no possible way he could've heard it. He could just sense the change in energy in the house.
Given my failing efforts on Monday morning, I decided to take a different approach. I walked in and found him sitting up in bed facing the door. He waved and said, "Hi, Mama!" Leon was still passed out. So I quietly ASKED this time if he wanted to go back to sleep. He stood up, smiled, and said, "No, silly!"
I hate it when he uses my own phrases (correctly!) against me.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Leon
The other kids got their turns in the spotlight (for me to mock them horribly) so it's only FAIR that I torture Leon in the same way. But it's hard to know where to start with Leon. I don't know how it's possible for one kid to be so hard to describe, but it's something I struggle with.
I do know that Leon wants to be big. As part of that, he wants to be independent. He has always figured out ways to get what he wants. Before he could talk, he would save the last bite of the food he was really enjoying. Then he would point to that food and use the sign language signal for "more" to tell us he wanted more of that tasty thing. As he got a little bigger, he would run to the pantry and hit the door. As soon as we opened the door, the little weasel would wiggle past us, go into the pantry, and pull out what he wanted to eat. A few weeks ago the kids were eating breakfast, and Leon clearly wanted something else. He kept saying something about cereal and milk, and he had both. And it was the same kind of cereal and milk that Michael and Ree were eating. I had no clue what he wanted. Leon finally said he was done, so I got him down from his high chair and forgot all about his frustration. While the kids finished eating, I worked on cleaning up the kitchen which was probably a disaster from the night before. (Much to the horror of most women, we are morning cleaning people. Dinner dishes often go untouched until 7:00 a.m.)
As I was cleaning, I suddenly realized it was quiet. Uh-oh. I glanced up and saw Leon and Michael standing at the train table in the sunroom. The good news is that they were standing at the table, not on it for once, and they didn't appear to be doing anything too dangerous. But I really had no idea what they were doing. So I went to investigate. Leon was finishing up his real breakfast. Once Ree was done with her bowl of cereal with milk, her bowl of noodles, and her bowl of soy sauce for dipping the noodles (long story, don't ask), Leon had apparently taken each bowl off the table, carefully transported it around the corner and down the step into the sunroom, and had made himself the breakfast he wanted. When I got there, he was finishing his meal. There were no spills other than a few splashes of milk around the cereal bowl on the table. That's when I realized he had been trying to tell me he wanted a bowl of cereal with milk on it like a big kid, not dry cereal with a cup of milk. Ahhhh. Got it.
Leon just takes care of things in other areas as well. At the beginning of the summer I apparently had a hard time remembering to take drinks and toys for the kids in the car. Not a problem. Leon took care of both. If we were leaving, I would find him standing by the front door, sippy cup in one hand, toy in the other. He would make sure he was hydrated and entertained in the car. Easy enough.
In some areas, Leon actually is a good helper. He will clean up all the dirty laundry after baths and put it in the hamper. He puts away the dog dishes each time they eat. He picks up random trash to the floor and brings it to me. (And he always seems to find the food crumbs that are so disgusting even the dogs have been avoiding them.) These are good things.
Unfortunately, Leon also has boy energy and is constantly on the move. So when he runs out of ways to be helpful, that's when he starts exploring and discovering. I don't think the child ever does things to intentionally be bad or to get attention. He's just curious and wants to learn. He LOVES books, almost as much as his siblings, but anything other than a plain board book is typically not safe in his hands. If there is a slight rip, he is going to pull on the page to see what happens. If the book has flaps to lift, he is going to bend them as far as he can to see what they'll do (and he always manages to bend them right off). If there is something on a shelf or otherwise out of reach, he will take matters into his own hands and find a way to get it. Chairs will be moved. Toys will be stacked. Leon is a great climber, but Michael struggles in that area. One day we discovered that Leon had built Michael a ramp out of blankets so that Michael could also climb on our bed and join Leon in standing hand having chicken fights. Thankfully we got there before anyone was a "winner."
Leon's passion, though, is clearly the kitchen. He just loves to to cook, whether it's for real or for pretend. If I'm in the kitchen working, he will come to check things out and ask to be lifted up so he can see exactly what I'm doing. He can also be entertained with a bowl, spoon, and measuring cup for hours. This can be a wonderful thing. It works inside, outside, and in the bathtub. It is also letting him bond with his big sis. They finally have something in common, and they discovered it in less than two years. Not too bad.
I do know that Leon wants to be big. As part of that, he wants to be independent. He has always figured out ways to get what he wants. Before he could talk, he would save the last bite of the food he was really enjoying. Then he would point to that food and use the sign language signal for "more" to tell us he wanted more of that tasty thing. As he got a little bigger, he would run to the pantry and hit the door. As soon as we opened the door, the little weasel would wiggle past us, go into the pantry, and pull out what he wanted to eat. A few weeks ago the kids were eating breakfast, and Leon clearly wanted something else. He kept saying something about cereal and milk, and he had both. And it was the same kind of cereal and milk that Michael and Ree were eating. I had no clue what he wanted. Leon finally said he was done, so I got him down from his high chair and forgot all about his frustration. While the kids finished eating, I worked on cleaning up the kitchen which was probably a disaster from the night before. (Much to the horror of most women, we are morning cleaning people. Dinner dishes often go untouched until 7:00 a.m.)
As I was cleaning, I suddenly realized it was quiet. Uh-oh. I glanced up and saw Leon and Michael standing at the train table in the sunroom. The good news is that they were standing at the table, not on it for once, and they didn't appear to be doing anything too dangerous. But I really had no idea what they were doing. So I went to investigate. Leon was finishing up his real breakfast. Once Ree was done with her bowl of cereal with milk, her bowl of noodles, and her bowl of soy sauce for dipping the noodles (long story, don't ask), Leon had apparently taken each bowl off the table, carefully transported it around the corner and down the step into the sunroom, and had made himself the breakfast he wanted. When I got there, he was finishing his meal. There were no spills other than a few splashes of milk around the cereal bowl on the table. That's when I realized he had been trying to tell me he wanted a bowl of cereal with milk on it like a big kid, not dry cereal with a cup of milk. Ahhhh. Got it.
Leon just takes care of things in other areas as well. At the beginning of the summer I apparently had a hard time remembering to take drinks and toys for the kids in the car. Not a problem. Leon took care of both. If we were leaving, I would find him standing by the front door, sippy cup in one hand, toy in the other. He would make sure he was hydrated and entertained in the car. Easy enough.
In some areas, Leon actually is a good helper. He will clean up all the dirty laundry after baths and put it in the hamper. He puts away the dog dishes each time they eat. He picks up random trash to the floor and brings it to me. (And he always seems to find the food crumbs that are so disgusting even the dogs have been avoiding them.) These are good things.
Unfortunately, Leon also has boy energy and is constantly on the move. So when he runs out of ways to be helpful, that's when he starts exploring and discovering. I don't think the child ever does things to intentionally be bad or to get attention. He's just curious and wants to learn. He LOVES books, almost as much as his siblings, but anything other than a plain board book is typically not safe in his hands. If there is a slight rip, he is going to pull on the page to see what happens. If the book has flaps to lift, he is going to bend them as far as he can to see what they'll do (and he always manages to bend them right off). If there is something on a shelf or otherwise out of reach, he will take matters into his own hands and find a way to get it. Chairs will be moved. Toys will be stacked. Leon is a great climber, but Michael struggles in that area. One day we discovered that Leon had built Michael a ramp out of blankets so that Michael could also climb on our bed and join Leon in standing hand having chicken fights. Thankfully we got there before anyone was a "winner."
Leon's passion, though, is clearly the kitchen. He just loves to to cook, whether it's for real or for pretend. If I'm in the kitchen working, he will come to check things out and ask to be lifted up so he can see exactly what I'm doing. He can also be entertained with a bowl, spoon, and measuring cup for hours. This can be a wonderful thing. It works inside, outside, and in the bathtub. It is also letting him bond with his big sis. They finally have something in common, and they discovered it in less than two years. Not too bad.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Ree
I know I haven't blogged much about Ree lately. She is old enough that I kinda feel like I am talking about her behind her back. Also, I'd hate for her to see something embarrassing, and I'm not quite sure how much she can read. She is always surprising me on that front. The girl spends hours each day playing alone in her room. She may be working her way through Faulkner for all I know. (And now that I think about it, all that stream of consciousness stuff probably makes more sense to a four-year-old than it did to me in high school. Have you ever heard a preschooler play?)
Anywho, I am going to write about her anyway. One thing I've noticed lately is what a GIRL she is. Not that it is a huge surprise. Despite my best efforts to keep everything gender neutral around her when she was a baby (I was such a silly first-time parent!), she is just programmed to be a girl. She likes pink and princesses and all things girlie. She was only two when she and I started getting into cat fights. (One of the hidden benefits of having a stay-at-home-dad is that she still worships her primary caregiver. Daaaad can do no wrong!) But there are other, apparently innate, girl traits that she has showing lately.
She is very nurturing. There was one day at the beginning of soccer season this fall in which Jeff was gone to a game and I was alone with the kids. The boys were napping, and Ree was busy playing. In a perfect world, she would've been napping too, but she looked at Jeff one day last November and said, "Dad, I'm not going to take naps anymore unless I'm sick," and she has kept to that statement despite our best efforts to make her rest in the afternoons. I was completely wiped out, so I told her that I was going to take a little nap on the couch, but she could get me if she needed anything. As I headed to the couch, I heard her trailing behind me. She had gotten me a sheet from her bed because she knew the ceiling fan was on and she thought I might be cold. She then brought her toys to the living room and played quietly while I slept. She did wake me three times during my 20-minute nap (I was REALLY tired and kept passing back out), but it was the thought that counts.
Lately, in practicing to be a big sister to the new baby, she has started being a much better big sister to Leon and Michael. She has actually been taking care of them and helping out.
Ree is also a girl in that she is always annoyed with her hair. (Well, maybe this doesn't apply to all women, but it certainly applies to me at times.) On Saturday night, while I was washing her hair, I noticed the hair over her left ear looked a bit short. I figured her bangs were just messed up. As I brushed her hair after her bath, I realized that part of her head was clearly reminiscent of the Joan Jett shag she sported for the first day of preschool last year after the wackadoo hairstylist went to town on her hair. So I asked her if she had cut her hair. She said, "Yes." I asked her why. It was too long. I asked her if she threw away the hair she cut off. She said it was all in her trashcan. (I later checked and it was. The scissors were neatly put away too.) I never got upset, because I figured there was no point. It hadn't even occurred to her that cutting her own hair was wrong. So I told her that maybe next time she should tell me and I could cut her hair or we could take her to get her hair cut. After all, it probably isn't safe to cut your own hair (and I hoped she never witnessed me doing it!) what with the scissors around your face and all. I briefly contemplated taking her to get her hair cut to even it out, but it's too dang short. She is just sporting a crazy punk 'do and she seems okay with it. I'm sure she would be a hit with the 15-year-old emo crowd.
Ree also has an insanely practical sense about her. When we go to the grocery store, she is always allowed a treat, and I am lucky in that my daughter considers Disney Princess Campbell's soup or Goldfish crackers to be a treat. A couple weeks ago she was looking for a big treat. She asked if she could get fruit snacks, but she added, "Are they on sale and do you have a coupon?" I smiled. I could remember asking the exact same question at her age.
More of her practicality came out tonight. As we were cleaning her room she noticed a label on the lid to a large Rubbermaid storage container. It was a warning that babies shouldn't play in the container, and she wanted to know what it meant. That's when she proudly expressed that's why she keeps the baby gate to her room shut - so babies like her brothers can't get in there and get hurt. As excited as she is about the new baby, the one thing we hadn't told her yet was it means she's going to have to share a room. I figured it was time to break the news, and I told her that when the baby got a little bigger she would also sleep in Ree's room. Silence. An odd look on her face. Anger? Fear? Frustration? Then she proclaimed, "Wellll, when she's a little baby, she can sleep in my [doll's] pack-and-play," and she proceeded to start cleaning the stuffed animals out of it. Love her!
Anywho, I am going to write about her anyway. One thing I've noticed lately is what a GIRL she is. Not that it is a huge surprise. Despite my best efforts to keep everything gender neutral around her when she was a baby (I was such a silly first-time parent!), she is just programmed to be a girl. She likes pink and princesses and all things girlie. She was only two when she and I started getting into cat fights. (One of the hidden benefits of having a stay-at-home-dad is that she still worships her primary caregiver. Daaaad can do no wrong!) But there are other, apparently innate, girl traits that she has showing lately.
She is very nurturing. There was one day at the beginning of soccer season this fall in which Jeff was gone to a game and I was alone with the kids. The boys were napping, and Ree was busy playing. In a perfect world, she would've been napping too, but she looked at Jeff one day last November and said, "Dad, I'm not going to take naps anymore unless I'm sick," and she has kept to that statement despite our best efforts to make her rest in the afternoons. I was completely wiped out, so I told her that I was going to take a little nap on the couch, but she could get me if she needed anything. As I headed to the couch, I heard her trailing behind me. She had gotten me a sheet from her bed because she knew the ceiling fan was on and she thought I might be cold. She then brought her toys to the living room and played quietly while I slept. She did wake me three times during my 20-minute nap (I was REALLY tired and kept passing back out), but it was the thought that counts.
Lately, in practicing to be a big sister to the new baby, she has started being a much better big sister to Leon and Michael. She has actually been taking care of them and helping out.
Ree is also a girl in that she is always annoyed with her hair. (Well, maybe this doesn't apply to all women, but it certainly applies to me at times.) On Saturday night, while I was washing her hair, I noticed the hair over her left ear looked a bit short. I figured her bangs were just messed up. As I brushed her hair after her bath, I realized that part of her head was clearly reminiscent of the Joan Jett shag she sported for the first day of preschool last year after the wackadoo hairstylist went to town on her hair. So I asked her if she had cut her hair. She said, "Yes." I asked her why. It was too long. I asked her if she threw away the hair she cut off. She said it was all in her trashcan. (I later checked and it was. The scissors were neatly put away too.) I never got upset, because I figured there was no point. It hadn't even occurred to her that cutting her own hair was wrong. So I told her that maybe next time she should tell me and I could cut her hair or we could take her to get her hair cut. After all, it probably isn't safe to cut your own hair (and I hoped she never witnessed me doing it!) what with the scissors around your face and all. I briefly contemplated taking her to get her hair cut to even it out, but it's too dang short. She is just sporting a crazy punk 'do and she seems okay with it. I'm sure she would be a hit with the 15-year-old emo crowd.
Ree also has an insanely practical sense about her. When we go to the grocery store, she is always allowed a treat, and I am lucky in that my daughter considers Disney Princess Campbell's soup or Goldfish crackers to be a treat. A couple weeks ago she was looking for a big treat. She asked if she could get fruit snacks, but she added, "Are they on sale and do you have a coupon?" I smiled. I could remember asking the exact same question at her age.
More of her practicality came out tonight. As we were cleaning her room she noticed a label on the lid to a large Rubbermaid storage container. It was a warning that babies shouldn't play in the container, and she wanted to know what it meant. That's when she proudly expressed that's why she keeps the baby gate to her room shut - so babies like her brothers can't get in there and get hurt. As excited as she is about the new baby, the one thing we hadn't told her yet was it means she's going to have to share a room. I figured it was time to break the news, and I told her that when the baby got a little bigger she would also sleep in Ree's room. Silence. An odd look on her face. Anger? Fear? Frustration? Then she proclaimed, "Wellll, when she's a little baby, she can sleep in my [doll's] pack-and-play," and she proceeded to start cleaning the stuffed animals out of it. Love her!
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Love
There is something so endearing about the first time you hear your child say, "I love you." Ree doesn't say it regularly, and so it still melts my heart whenever she says it to me. Tonight, as I was tucking the boys into bed, Michael said it for the first time ever. To his baseball glove. At least it was sincere.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Underachiever and proud?
When I came home from my road trip for work, Michael's new talent was counting to ten. He had been working on it before I left. At night I would hear him practicing in bed, although the only real words I could make out were "Eight, nine, TEN. Yay!" which he repeated over and over. But upon my return, he proudly counted, "One, two, fee, fo' five, six, se-ben, eight, nine, ten." Apparently it was such second nature he no longer had to cheer at the end.
Michael also surprised me last week by proving he knew the whole alphabet in both upper and lower case. I guess the TV junkie does absorb something from watching "Ree show" on PBS (and I think Jeff might put in an awful lot of time too).
It's a good thing he has some book smarts, because the child is lacking in common sense. Another "trick" he learned while I was gone was to make himself fall down and then say "OW!" He did this a lot that first week I was back. By last week he had moved on to bashing his forehead into walls, then pointing at the wall and saying, "Wall ouch." At least he's moving on to multi-word sentences as a result. Um, yeah.
Michael also surprised me last week by proving he knew the whole alphabet in both upper and lower case. I guess the TV junkie does absorb something from watching "Ree show" on PBS (and I think Jeff might put in an awful lot of time too).
It's a good thing he has some book smarts, because the child is lacking in common sense. Another "trick" he learned while I was gone was to make himself fall down and then say "OW!" He did this a lot that first week I was back. By last week he had moved on to bashing his forehead into walls, then pointing at the wall and saying, "Wall ouch." At least he's moving on to multi-word sentences as a result. Um, yeah.
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