September 28, 2004
After yesterday's little nervous breakdown, Keith and I sat down and discussed what we can do to make things better. The first, most obvious thing, is that we need to get Zeke some more physical activity, i.e. "running-around time". So today, as soon as Keith got home from work, I piled the kids in the car, and we went to the playground for an hour. Zeke slid down slides, swung on swings, played in the giant sandbox, made some new friends, and in general had a pretty good time. I only had to tell him to stop throwing sand a couple of times, and all the other kids were doing it too, so it really wasn't that bad.
The next thing is that we're definitely going to find a preschool for him, preferably a part-time preschool. We always said that around the time he turned 3, we wanted to put him in preschool, and that time is almost upon us (yikes!), and Keith thinks I shouldn't feel bad about it. To be honest, I really don't; what I felt bad about was all the yelling and feeling like an inadequate mom. Going to the playground today actually helped quite a lot, believe it or not. One really good experience goes a long way toward wiping out the effects of the bad experiences, if that makes sense. Anyway, I called some local preschools today to set up times to go check them out. One is a Montessori school, which should be interesting.
The last thing is that Keith told me I should never feel afraid to ask him to watch both the kids while I go chill at Cup O' Joe or the library or wherever, by myself for awhile. I think that would really help, especially right now when I have both kids all day long by myself.
So, to summarize, yesterday really sucked, but we have a game plan, and I'm feeling much better now.
Cute Zeke story of the day: At the playground, I was pushing him on the swings, and he kept saying, "Higher! Higher," and then when I was pushing him as high as I could, he said, "I flying with the birds now!" I had Stazi in the baby sling, and when she saw Zeke swinging back and forth, she started giggling hysterically. I guess it tickled her 8-month-old sense of humor.
Posted by Jan at 3:23 PM | Comments (1)
September 27, 2004
I suppose I could just write about the good stuff in this blog, but that wouldn't be a very accurate (or, let's face it, interesting) record.
We had a not so good day today. I spent the last two hours watching "Zoolander" on DVD and drinking Diet Coke trying to detox from it.
The morning was OK, with the box car racing, and so forth. Then later, after Keith got home and had his nap and then we had dinner, I thought I would take Zeke to the library. Now, I knew this was fraught with peril. The last time I took him to the library, it went OK, but the two times before that, we had to leave early and come home without any books, because he kept running away from me and wouldn't listen when I told him to come back.
So in the car on the way there, we talked about how it is really important not to run away from Mommy, and I outlined what would happen when we got there: we'd return our books, and then we'd go find a few books for Mommy in the grown-up section, and then we'd play a computer game for awhile on the kids' computers they have set up there, and then we'd find books for Zeke. "And then go home!" he said. Right, I said, and then go home.
When we got there, everything was OK for awhile. We returned the books, and Zeke helped put them in the return slot, which he always likes. But then we went into the grown-up section to find books for Mommy, and while I was browsing, he tried to run away from me a few times. Not too far or too fast, just down an aisle or whatever. So then I said, OK, you have to hold my hand now, because running away is not acceptable. He held my hand for a minute, and then started trying to bite my hand. (The hand that feeds him!)
In discussing this with Keith later, we decided that this was where I made my first and biggest mistake. I should have just put the stack of books down and walked out of the library with him right then. We have a rule that biting is absolutely not acceptable, never, ever, no way, and when it happens, Zeke loses privileges or gets a time-out or whatever is appropriate under the circumstances. However, today I really just wanted to get some books and I was tired of having to leave the library early, so I told him to quit biting and didn't actually do anything about it.
He then started doing this thing that he does sometimes where he just lets himself drop to the ground while I'm holding his hand. It jerks my entire body and is really very unpleasant, and I asked him to please stop doing that also. Then he started taking books off the shelves and throwing them on the ground. I decided that it was time to leave the grown-up section and go to the kids' section.
We played one of the Dr. Seuss computer games for awhile, and that went okay. Zeke's getting better at using the mouse. Then we collected some books for Zeke -- actually quite a few books; I was having some trouble carrying them while still holding his hand.
I went back to the grown-up section one last time, and thought that because Zeke had been relatively well-behaved while we got the kids' books, that I could let go of his hand now. Wrong. He raced away from me, and rather than dumping my huge stack of books all over the floor, I yelled after him to stop. He did, but I felt like everyone in the library was staring at me. At this point, I felt like all I'd done since we got to the library was yell Zeke's name and tell him to stop biting me, or stop falling down on purpose, or stop throwing books on the floor, or whatever. I'll tell you the truth, I felt like a really bad mommy, and I never thought I'd be the kind of mommy that yells at her toddler all the time, but all too often that's what happens.
Anyway, I grabbed a few books just so my expedition to the grown-up section wouldn't be a total waste, and went to the front desk. Here I must digress to complain bitterly about the library's new check-out policy. They have all these shiny new self check-out kiosks, which is nice in general, but apparently they also have a new policy that the actual librarians don't check out books unless you have a special problem, like you need to renew something. So I take my humongous stack of books and DVDs and deposit them on the desk in front of this librarian, and she says, "Are you just checking out? You can use that self check-out station right there." I said, "Wait, don't you have to put the DVDs in their cases, though?" and in the middle of her telling me that no, the DVDs come in their cases now, I had to excuse myself and run after Zeke, who was racing for the front doors of the library.
I retrieved him, and told him that now he had to hold my hand. So instead of taking pity on me and checking my books out, the librarian told me again to use the self check-out station. So I'm standing there with my squirming toddler in one hand, trying to check my books out with the other hand, and I was about this close to saying, screw this, and walking out the door sans books. But then a nicer librarian noticed that I was having trouble, and came over and distracted Zeke with stickers while I got checked out. So that was nice.
Then one of my books wouldn't check out for some reason -- when I scanned it, the machine made this really loud "braaaaap" sound and flashed a big stop sign that said "YOU MAY NOT CHECK OUT THIS BOOK" and I am not making this up -- and the nice librarian didn't know why, and then had to go help another patron. So on my way out, I told the mean librarian, "Hey, this book wouldn't check out for some reason, so I'm leaving it here." She gave me absolutely no response except to give me a mean look. Just then, Zeke pulled another fake falling-down on me, which almost made me drop my entire backpack which was full of books, and a couple of people whipped their heads around to stare at us, and you know, it just really, really sucked. The whole thing. Just sucked.
There were all these other parents with young children at the library, and all of their children seemed well-behaved, and the parents seemed patient and reasonable and I felt like the only person who was yelling or upset, and all I wanted to do was take my little boy to the library to get him out of the house for a change. Maybe that's the problem, maybe we're not getting out of the house enough. I don't know. I feel like I'm turning into the kind of mom I swore I'd never be. I am not happy about this.
So if you want to know what's going on in my life right now, that's what's going on. I feel like I completely suck at being a stay-at-home mom, I'm not giving my toddler enough stimulation, all the day cares we've contacted so far have told us there's a lengthy wait list, and I feel guilty about calling day cares in the first place, because I have these ideas that people who are actually good at being mothers don't have to pay other people to watch their children because they can't hack it as stay-at-home moms.
I guess that's all.
Posted by Jan at 11:28 PM | Comments (4)
Posted by Jan at 2:42 PM | Comments (0)
I've been surfing this 101 Things To Do With Toddlers site, and this morning decided to try building a car out of a cardboard box. This was Big Fun. We drew wheels, windows, and a steering wheel on it; Zeke added headlights. I pushed the kids around the floor for awhile, which produced squeals of delight from all parties concerned. Then Zeke refused to get out, and wanted to watch Sesame Street and eat his lunch in it. (Yes to Sesame Street; no to lunch.)
The whole thing kind of made up, sort of, for the fact that from the time I get up in the morning to the time I get my first cup of coffee (which sometimes is a pretty lengthy interval), I am Mean Mommy and do not do any fun things and probably yell too much.
Posted by Jan at 1:45 PM | Comments (0)
September 23, 2004
Heart-stopping moment of the day:
I put Zeke down for his nap about half an hour ago, and as is typical for him these days, I've heard various noises coming from his room ever since, as he plays on his own and winds down to sleep. But when I started hearing loud thunking sounds, I decided it was time to go resettle him and get him to lie down in bed.
I entered his room... and he was gone. Not in his bed, not playing in his room. We have window guards on his windows, so I was pretty sure he couldn't have fallen out, but Zeke is both sly and good at manipulating locks, so there's a tiny chance he could have defeated the guards somehow.
Just as I was on the verge of freaking out, I saw the closet door wobble, and then a little blond head peeked out from behind.
He's back in bed now. And for all of our sanity, I hope he stays there for awhile.
Posted by Jan at 2:17 PM | Comments (0)
September 20, 2004
Yesterday I found Zeke in the living room holding his toy phone by the receiver and dangling it into the papasan chair. He looked up at me and said, "I fishing!"
Posted by Jan at 3:26 PM | Comments (0)
September 19, 2004
Zeke's new word this morning was "finished". As in, "I hinished!" I looked up, surprised, and said, "Zeke, did you say you're all finished?" He gave me an exasperated look and said, "ALL HINISHED!"
Well, then.
Posted by Jan at 9:58 AM | Comments (0)
Zeke's first Kindermusik class of the quarter was on Friday. I took him to two classes last spring, because I found out about the class late, and then it went on summer hiatus. I spent the last several weeks of August and September trying to find a Columbus-area music class that I could take him to. It had to be one that met in the evenings, so that I could leave Stazi with Keith while I went to the class with Zeke. Unfortunately, the only classes I could find anywhere in the greater Columbus area met in the mornings. I guess they assume that everyone who wants to take their child to Kindermusik is a stay-at-home mom with only one child?
Anyway, after a few weeks of fruitless searching, I finally decided to go ahead and take him back to the Zanesville class, which met late enough in the evening that I could wait for Keith to get home from work, and still leave in enough time to get to the class with Zeke.
The first one was last night. The change in Zeke's behavior from the classes he attended last spring was really remarkable. Three months ago, all he wanted to do was run around the classroom. He wasn't interested in participating in the games or activities; he was just obsessed by the full-length mirrors that ran the length of all the walls. I had to really struggle to keep him even the slightest bit interested in the actual class.
This time around, there was a big difference. Zeke sang along with some of the songs, he really liked the parts where we played musical instruments, and in general he just kind of had fun participating. One of the more hilarious parts was when the leader would get out the boxes of jingle bells or scarves or whatever object the kids were all going to be using. Zeke would go over and get big handfuls of them and then pass them out to all the other kids and parents. Everyone thought that was pretty cute.
He did get a little distracted towards the end of the session, and wanted to run around and look at the mirrors instead of sing the goodbye song, but I figured that was okay. He does have the attention span of a two-year-old, after all.
Later that evening, I had a real moment of truth as a parent. I went back to Mom's house to pick Stazi up, and hung out there for about half an hour letting Zeke play with trains and chatting with Mom and so forth. Then I remembered that I needed to switch Stazi's car seat back out of Mom's car and into our car. So, blithely announcing that I'd be right back, I headed out to make the switch.
There are two problems with installing Stazi's carseat in our station wagon. One is that we have to install this locking clip thing on the seatbelt in order to get it in there securely. The other is that in order to thread the seatbelt through the car seat, you have to push it through an opening that is clearly not designed for human hands. In the process of attempting to get the seatbelt threaded, I mangled my hands pretty severely. Goddammit, I kept thinking, how come Keith can do this so easily? His hands are bigger than mine!
After many, many tries, I finally got the seatbelt threaded through, only to discover that I couldn't get it to latch closed with the locking clip installed. So I wrestled the locking clip off, readjusted the seatbelt, got it to latch, and then attempted to get the locking clip back on. This did not work. For technical reasons that I cannot fully describe without drawing a diagram, I had to undo the seatbelt, pull it back through the track, and start completely over.
The second time, I was able to latch it, and got the locking clip on, and I thought I was done. This is what led to my moment of truth.
I pushed on the carseat to make sure everything was secure. It wobbled a little. I pushed on it again. It wobbled a lot. It had maybe five or six inches of give in either direction. The manual says it should have no more than one.
I paused. I considered. I'd already spent about twenty minutes trying to install the carseat. I'd exercised some pretty colorful invective directed at the carseat. I'd bruised the crap out of my forearms and hands, which would turn a festive purple the next morning. I could just call it a night and count on the high probability that we would not be in an accident on the way home. I could tell Keith that he had to reinstall it the next morning. I could say that I had really given it my all and that that was the best I could do.
I thought. I thought hard.
And, with a sigh, I undid the locking clip, undid the seatbelt, and pulled it back through the track to start all over again. Ten more minutes of severe bruising later, it was all put back together. With a deep breath and a short prayer, I yanked on the carseat... and it moved about half an inch. I tugged harder. Half an inch. I rocked it back and forth as hard as I could. Half an inch!
It was a proud moment.
The next morning, Keith sympathized appropriately over my purple and black bruises, and then asked if I hadn't realized that you could lift up the seat cushion and pull the belt through the track that way?
No, I said. No, I hadn't realized that.
He patted my shoulder and then made me a sandwich, because I guess right about then I looked like I needed it.
Posted by Jan at 12:54 AM | Comments (0)
September 15, 2004
Just got back from the new pediatrician's office. Stazi was way overdue for a checkup. We took her to her 6-week checkup and then her 3-month checkup, and she hasn't been back to the doctor since.
The new doctor is young and energetic and really good with kids, which is nice. He told us that Stazi is in the 60th percentile for weight and the 75th for height, and that everything looks great. He gave us a little bit of a hard time over our not wanting to give her more than two shots per visit (we think more than two shots is just too taxing to a baby's system, particularly when a lot of the shots these days have multiple vaccines in them), but not too much of a hard time. He said he'll just have us come back at her 9-month checkup and get caught up. We said, cool.
Zeke went along with us, although he didn't have an official checkup, and when the doctor saw him, he said, "Let me guess how old... a tall 3?"
"No," I said, "a very tall 2."
"Wow! That explains the language!"
We get that a lot. People tend to think that Zeke is a speech-impaired three- or four-year-old. Actually he's a developmentally normal two-year-old who is almost freakishly tall for his age. His first pediatrician warned us that this would happen. I expect it will probably even out once he gets to kindergarten or first grade or so.
Posted by Jan at 11:50 AM | Comments (0)
September 14, 2004
Stazi has two teeth now. I am considering moving her up to three whole feedings a day. (Solid food feedings, I mean; she's still breastfeeding as much as her little heart desires, and it desires a lot.) We've exhausted the possibilities in whole-grain cereals; she's done amaranth, quinoa, barley, and brown rice. I've taken to combining them. The amaranth/quinoa/barley cereal with mashed banana that I made for breakfast the other day was a big hit with both kids.
She's had asparagus, which she seemed to like well enough, and green beans, which she did not. She's of course had sweet potatoes, and squash, which I am fond of mixing together with mango. She likes avocados, and can't get enough applesauce when it's on her plate. Tonight I'm thinking about doing peaches.
I admit I kind of missed having all the brightly colored cubes of frozen baby food in my freezer, after Zeke graduated to table foods. It's fun to be doing it again.
(This sort of entry, ladies and gentlemen, is why I have a separate blog for entries that hold absolutely no relevance or interest to those of you out there who don't know my kids or have kids of your own.)
Posted by Jan at 1:33 PM | Comments (3)
September 12, 2004
OK! The move to Dreamhost is complete, meaning that I no longer have to worry about running out of space to store photos of my charming and adorable children. However, as you have probably noticed, I once again lost the saved entries in the weblog. That's OK; this time there were only two and they weren't that great anyway. Let's hope we don't have to do this again any time soon.
The image gallery and the weblog should both be working correctly now. If anybody notices any glaring bugs or problems or whatever, let me know. Regular updates will resume shortly.
Posted by Jan at 10:45 PM | Comments (0)
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Posted by Jan at 10:31 PM | Comments (0)