I have spent weeks, no months, yearning for a simple stay-cation and it has proven to be as elusive as patches of grass this winter. For me a simple stay-cation would include a few key elements- of course, staying in my home and not spending money but really a stay-cation would also include being kidless for the day. I have changed at least one diaper a day for the past 23.5 months and I would just love a break from those papery poop traps.
We have two different day care providers- one for Josh and one for Liam. In both cases, going to the sitter is an option over Christmas or February breaks. Now, when Liam was a baby and the sitter suggested that he could come to her house during the week after Christmas, while I was on break, I acted both offended & bewildered at once. "Really? Why would he come to your house if I'm on break?" or my personal favorite thing to say, "I can't be a stay at home mom but at least I can be with my children on breaks!" This is all fine and good until you start to realize that your day off is spent entertaining, feeding and cleaning up after the children. A holiday should be used to catch-up on some important business (like making a phone call during the day- people don't realize how hard it is for a teacher to make a personal call during the day), doing a thorough cleaning (Who am I kidding? When did I ever do that over a break?) or getting a head start on the weeks to come! Instead vacations for me have actually started setting me back a bit. I spend a lot of time over the break just keeping up with the kids rather than catching up!
Needless to say, I got a bit excited over the thought of having a day to myself to do such selfish items on my "To-Do List" as calling the pediatrician, grading student papers, buying a toaster oven & making a photo book. Yet over Christmas break, despite having two available child care providers, I found myself home with a sick Josh and then a sick husband. I'm not proud to admit that I did actually yell at Bill the morning that we realized they were both sick and would be staying home on my "day off". Since then, I've looked forward to this February break. It was over February break where I devised this great scheme for my stay-cation without children. I was going to paint and get other things done while my children benefited from social interaction!
The day arrived on Tuesday of this week. Bill took both kids to their respective day cares and I started off making a couple of productive phone calls and then... reading. :) I even did one of those 45 minute yoga routines. Bliss.
The highlight of the day was supposed to be a lunch date with Bill to a restaurant we had a gift card for. Unfortunately karma was not on our side. When Bill pulled around the corner of the parking lot, someone backed into the car while we were stopped, waiting for another car to pull out. Oddly, she saw this as our fault. Luckily no one was hurt and the damage was minimal. My frustration level was at an all-time high, however. Didn't karma know I needed this day? Didn't the world see fit to give me one day to myself? Here I was without a poopy diaper in sight but yet I was angrier and more stressed than I have been in months. We stood next to the car and surveyed the damage. It had happened so slowly but I remembered the car lifting up slightly and me leaning away from the passenger side when she bumped into us. Then I saw the seat behind me and it was Joshua's car seat. True, the impact was slow; but what if? What if a car hit us harder on the passenger side while Josh was in the car? Or on Liam's side behind the driver?
This morning (Wednesday), Joshua woke up with a stuffy nose and seeming miserable. I brought him into bed and calmly told Bill that Josh would be staying with me today instead of going to his sitter's house. Bill (remembering my fit I threw over Christmas break when my stay-cation was threatened), asked if I was okay. "Yes," I said, "this is what I do when my babies are sick." And together today, Joshua and I had a great day. We baked banana bread, went for a short walk and had some good talks. I even got a little bit of that wonderful stay-cation when he took his 3 and a half hour nap this afternoon. I think I'll keep him home tomorrow too... just to make sure he's all better.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
The Perils of Preschoolers Getting Themselves Dressed
We were all cuddled up on the couch this evening reading a bedtime story when I realized that Liam had his pants on backwards.
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do."
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do."
I ended the argument by unsnapping the snap which was on his butt and unzipping his zipper. It seems I won the argument. But Liam still didn't know how his pants got on backwards or for how long he wore them like that.
Here are the facts: Liam got himself dressed this morning, Liam pulled down his pants to go to the bathroom at school and Liam did not take off his pants at any time today. Perhaps most incriminating is the fact that just yesterday he came upstairs wearing his jeans backwards. We caught it yesterday but obviously our perceptiveness as parents is beginning to wear down (doesn't bode well for his teen years) so today we let him leave the house wearing his pants backwards.
Here's the bright side, at least no one noticed. I mean, it's obvious to assume that no one noticed because no one told him to fix his pants, right? Unless they thought it was too funny to fix. It is possible that all the teachers were giggling behind his back- but then again, they're day care teachers and I'm sure backwards pants are a fairly common sight in their profession.
Currently in Liam's class the fashion crazes include wearing a long sleeve shirt underneath a short sleeve shirt. Matching is entirely optional. Liam recently left the house (with our permission). One mom of a boy in Liam's class calls her son a "budding conservative" because lately he has been insisting on wearing a button up shirt with a tie. This hasn't caught on yet with his peers luckily (because Liam doesn't have a clip on tie). Who knows, maybe Liam has something here. Perhaps backwards pants are just the next fashion craze to hit the preschool scene.
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do."
"No I don't!"
"Yes you do."
I ended the argument by unsnapping the snap which was on his butt and unzipping his zipper. It seems I won the argument. But Liam still didn't know how his pants got on backwards or for how long he wore them like that.
Here are the facts: Liam got himself dressed this morning, Liam pulled down his pants to go to the bathroom at school and Liam did not take off his pants at any time today. Perhaps most incriminating is the fact that just yesterday he came upstairs wearing his jeans backwards. We caught it yesterday but obviously our perceptiveness as parents is beginning to wear down (doesn't bode well for his teen years) so today we let him leave the house wearing his pants backwards.
Here's the bright side, at least no one noticed. I mean, it's obvious to assume that no one noticed because no one told him to fix his pants, right? Unless they thought it was too funny to fix. It is possible that all the teachers were giggling behind his back- but then again, they're day care teachers and I'm sure backwards pants are a fairly common sight in their profession.
Currently in Liam's class the fashion crazes include wearing a long sleeve shirt underneath a short sleeve shirt. Matching is entirely optional. Liam recently left the house (with our permission). One mom of a boy in Liam's class calls her son a "budding conservative" because lately he has been insisting on wearing a button up shirt with a tie. This hasn't caught on yet with his peers luckily (because Liam doesn't have a clip on tie). Who knows, maybe Liam has something here. Perhaps backwards pants are just the next fashion craze to hit the preschool scene.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Phases
"It's probably just a phase." Well, gee, I hope so! And how many phases have my children been through in their short lives?
Well, there was the toilet paper phase. Liam was so obsessed with using toilet paper that it became more of an experiment in an absorbency and less about actually cleaning his bottom. I reached the breaking point when one day I entered the bathroom to see a mound of toilet paper rising out of the toilet. I had to clean it up using a grocery bag... but the TP was so soggy that the bag was dripping... what a mess.
There was the nose-picking phase. Liam so wanted to just pick his nose and we so did not want him to. Of course, most of the time he wanted to pick his nose in public too, which made matters worse. The nose picking incidents called for drastic measures so I promised him candy if he could go sustained periods of time without digging for boogers. Judge me if you would like, but he stopped picking within a few days. On a side note, he never ate his boogers- which is great because that's really gross but it's also a bit concerning because you have to wonder where all of his boogers ended up... ?
Many of my facebook friends will remember Liam in his baby powder phase. He used to sneak shakes out of the baby powder and I would find them all over the baby's room. Have you ever tried to wipe baby powder off of a bookshelf filled with books? Needless to say, there's still some baby powder in the cracks of the bookshelf and on the wall behind the shelf.
Joshua has had his share of phases. Recently he has been in a hat phase. At his sitter's he insists on wearing a green safari helmet. At home he wears his red plastic fireman hat. He often insists on bringing it to bed with him. We've actually found that wearing a hat is in his best interest when around his bigger brother. It particularly came in handy when Liam budged him off of his stool while brushing teeth and sharing the sink. Fortunately this hat phase hasn't ended it. It's really too cute to say good bye to anytime soon.
A less cute phase from Joshy is his baby phase. He's almost two and, up until recently, has insisted on calling himself a baby. If you said, "Big Boy", he would point to himself and say "Baby". He really wasn't having any of this getting older crap. In fact, he has decided that it's best to wake up before 6 am (like an infant) and refuse to eat unless he's being fed by his mommy or daddy. He went on a utensil strike to demonstrate what a baby he is. I see right through his plan though- I packed him a bowl of yogurt to take to the sitter and watched as he pleasantly took out a spoon and neatly fed himself yogurt at her house. Got you, Josh, got you.
Phases really do keep us on our toes. Which family hasn't endured the "why" phase? Or the phase where the little one just can't sleep if he/she isn't in your bed with you? And just when you think you can't stand any more of a phase... it continues (not gone so easy)... until one day it just disappears whether you like it or not. The funny thing is that even though many of these phases so permeated our everyday lives, looking back a few months or years later it's so easy to forget them!
I can't believe it but I almost forgot Liam's scary monkey phase. Oh was he ever scared of that scary monkey. We never could figure out which monkey was the scary monkey, considering that his room had a jungle theme. So we removed all monkeys from the room. Oddly enough, he slept with a rattle snake in his bed but apparently that wasn't as scary as the monkey. Now Joshua loves his jungle-themed monkey room. He can't stop talking about monkeys. He likes to walk around with monkeys hanging over his shoulders with velcro paws. Come to think of it, maybe that's his way of making Liam keep his distance...
Well, there was the toilet paper phase. Liam was so obsessed with using toilet paper that it became more of an experiment in an absorbency and less about actually cleaning his bottom. I reached the breaking point when one day I entered the bathroom to see a mound of toilet paper rising out of the toilet. I had to clean it up using a grocery bag... but the TP was so soggy that the bag was dripping... what a mess.
There was the nose-picking phase. Liam so wanted to just pick his nose and we so did not want him to. Of course, most of the time he wanted to pick his nose in public too, which made matters worse. The nose picking incidents called for drastic measures so I promised him candy if he could go sustained periods of time without digging for boogers. Judge me if you would like, but he stopped picking within a few days. On a side note, he never ate his boogers- which is great because that's really gross but it's also a bit concerning because you have to wonder where all of his boogers ended up... ?
Many of my facebook friends will remember Liam in his baby powder phase. He used to sneak shakes out of the baby powder and I would find them all over the baby's room. Have you ever tried to wipe baby powder off of a bookshelf filled with books? Needless to say, there's still some baby powder in the cracks of the bookshelf and on the wall behind the shelf.
Joshua has had his share of phases. Recently he has been in a hat phase. At his sitter's he insists on wearing a green safari helmet. At home he wears his red plastic fireman hat. He often insists on bringing it to bed with him. We've actually found that wearing a hat is in his best interest when around his bigger brother. It particularly came in handy when Liam budged him off of his stool while brushing teeth and sharing the sink. Fortunately this hat phase hasn't ended it. It's really too cute to say good bye to anytime soon.
A less cute phase from Joshy is his baby phase. He's almost two and, up until recently, has insisted on calling himself a baby. If you said, "Big Boy", he would point to himself and say "Baby". He really wasn't having any of this getting older crap. In fact, he has decided that it's best to wake up before 6 am (like an infant) and refuse to eat unless he's being fed by his mommy or daddy. He went on a utensil strike to demonstrate what a baby he is. I see right through his plan though- I packed him a bowl of yogurt to take to the sitter and watched as he pleasantly took out a spoon and neatly fed himself yogurt at her house. Got you, Josh, got you.
Phases really do keep us on our toes. Which family hasn't endured the "why" phase? Or the phase where the little one just can't sleep if he/she isn't in your bed with you? And just when you think you can't stand any more of a phase... it continues (not gone so easy)... until one day it just disappears whether you like it or not. The funny thing is that even though many of these phases so permeated our everyday lives, looking back a few months or years later it's so easy to forget them!
I can't believe it but I almost forgot Liam's scary monkey phase. Oh was he ever scared of that scary monkey. We never could figure out which monkey was the scary monkey, considering that his room had a jungle theme. So we removed all monkeys from the room. Oddly enough, he slept with a rattle snake in his bed but apparently that wasn't as scary as the monkey. Now Joshua loves his jungle-themed monkey room. He can't stop talking about monkeys. He likes to walk around with monkeys hanging over his shoulders with velcro paws. Come to think of it, maybe that's his way of making Liam keep his distance...
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Wowing You With Awesomeness
There comes a point in every yoga class (usually early on) when I think: "Wow, I am impressive. Look at my form and grace. Appreciate my flexibility and strength." Within 5 minutes of this revelation, I am brought back to reality by (a) failing to balance with one foot 4 inches off the ground (b) struggling to hold my arms straight over my head or (c) trying to touch my toes. This past week we had pilates instead of yoga and I was just thinking how awesome I was doing at the hundreds series. Less than 5 minutes later I had the instructor kneeling next to me saying "We have to do something about your butt flip-flopping all over the place." Gee thanks lady, isn't it enough that I'm here? Couldn't you just go on letting me feel awesome tonight?
It's the same sensation that occurs to me almost every day before leaving the house, when I think, "What will I do when I arrive so early today?" And then 10 minutes later I'm struggling to get a wiggler into his jacket, mittens & boots and to remember my tea, lunch and work bag. So 20 minutes after I stood there naively thinking I would be early, I find myself stuffing the same wiggling baby (who is now in a winter coat) into his car seat, then I find myself rifling through my purse to find my keys only to remember that they are actually in the jacket pocket that I wore... yesterday.
There are moments when I am wowed by how awesome a mom I am. We go the grocery store and, because I'm such a terrific mother, I let Liam weigh some bananas and we spend some time talking about measuring weight. We discuss what makes the tomatoes organic and we stop by to visit the lobsters. I think to myself, "If anyone is watching, they will surely be impressed." And then we get to the part of the grocery store that's not as fun. By the tortilla shells someone starts to complain about wanting to get into the cart (or out of it) and whoever is in the cart starts crying and whoever is out of the cart starts pushing each and every box on the shelf at their height level. The grocery store starts to get hot. I start thinking that we have a lot more shopping to do. I can't find Bill (because I forgot onions so he's back there getting them) and I get flustered. Not so awesome anymore. Now I can't even make a decision between whole milk or part skim mozzarella. Suddenly I've got that glazed-over mom look (you know the one I'm talking about).
In between snow storms we decided we needed to clear our driveway of permafrost. Bill and Liam started. Josh and I had second shift. I was going to be an awesome mom- able to chip away ice on a driveway while giving her son time to play outdoors! I gave Josh a shovel; because that's what any awesome mom would do to involve their almost-2 year old. He didn't want the shovel. I showed him how to throw snow. He wasn't interested. I continued to scrape and shovel, scrape and shovel, scrape and shovel. Josh stood there. I asked him sweetly if he wanted to go inside but he quickly rejected that idea by turning into jelly when I tried to hold his hand and walk him into the house. I asked him if he wanted to help Mommy but then he started whining. I continued to work, offering suggestions for his amusement but it seemed that nothing was working. Instead of looking like an awesome mom balancing snow scraping and baby playtime, there I was sweaty with an oversized winter coat, scraping at ice while my toddler hugged one of my legs and refused to let go. Eventually I brought him inside against his will but really, I had to think about my image here. I wasn't looking very awesome.
Time after time, I realize that I am only human and at least I am doing the best that I can. Still, I persist in having those "I'm awesome" moments despite evidence to the contrary. Perhaps I should just enjoy the "I'm awesome" moment... because that's just what it is, a moment. Like all moments, it will pass; but with any luck another "I'm awesome moment" will present itself soon. Like most awesome moments, it will likely be when no one else is around to hear it or see it except the people who really matter the most afterall.
It's the same sensation that occurs to me almost every day before leaving the house, when I think, "What will I do when I arrive so early today?" And then 10 minutes later I'm struggling to get a wiggler into his jacket, mittens & boots and to remember my tea, lunch and work bag. So 20 minutes after I stood there naively thinking I would be early, I find myself stuffing the same wiggling baby (who is now in a winter coat) into his car seat, then I find myself rifling through my purse to find my keys only to remember that they are actually in the jacket pocket that I wore... yesterday.
There are moments when I am wowed by how awesome a mom I am. We go the grocery store and, because I'm such a terrific mother, I let Liam weigh some bananas and we spend some time talking about measuring weight. We discuss what makes the tomatoes organic and we stop by to visit the lobsters. I think to myself, "If anyone is watching, they will surely be impressed." And then we get to the part of the grocery store that's not as fun. By the tortilla shells someone starts to complain about wanting to get into the cart (or out of it) and whoever is in the cart starts crying and whoever is out of the cart starts pushing each and every box on the shelf at their height level. The grocery store starts to get hot. I start thinking that we have a lot more shopping to do. I can't find Bill (because I forgot onions so he's back there getting them) and I get flustered. Not so awesome anymore. Now I can't even make a decision between whole milk or part skim mozzarella. Suddenly I've got that glazed-over mom look (you know the one I'm talking about).
In between snow storms we decided we needed to clear our driveway of permafrost. Bill and Liam started. Josh and I had second shift. I was going to be an awesome mom- able to chip away ice on a driveway while giving her son time to play outdoors! I gave Josh a shovel; because that's what any awesome mom would do to involve their almost-2 year old. He didn't want the shovel. I showed him how to throw snow. He wasn't interested. I continued to scrape and shovel, scrape and shovel, scrape and shovel. Josh stood there. I asked him sweetly if he wanted to go inside but he quickly rejected that idea by turning into jelly when I tried to hold his hand and walk him into the house. I asked him if he wanted to help Mommy but then he started whining. I continued to work, offering suggestions for his amusement but it seemed that nothing was working. Instead of looking like an awesome mom balancing snow scraping and baby playtime, there I was sweaty with an oversized winter coat, scraping at ice while my toddler hugged one of my legs and refused to let go. Eventually I brought him inside against his will but really, I had to think about my image here. I wasn't looking very awesome.
Time after time, I realize that I am only human and at least I am doing the best that I can. Still, I persist in having those "I'm awesome" moments despite evidence to the contrary. Perhaps I should just enjoy the "I'm awesome" moment... because that's just what it is, a moment. Like all moments, it will pass; but with any luck another "I'm awesome moment" will present itself soon. Like most awesome moments, it will likely be when no one else is around to hear it or see it except the people who really matter the most afterall.
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