Alright, let me fill you in on our last 48 hours. Monday night and Tuesday were about the same for Aiden. Lots of puking and diarrhea. By Tuesday night we had gotten him to bed, thinking the worst was over. Around 10:30 Brian was quietly watching the news while I read a book on the couch when I felt an uncomfortable stab in the lower right of my back. I changed positions and continued reading for about 30 minutes more, still feeling a slight muscle pain. Just before 11:30 I felt another stab, then another, now a dull ache, all coming within a matter of 2 or 3 minutes. I hobbled towards our bedroom and by the time I reached the bed I felt like the right half of my body was in labor.
I was panting in pain on the bed when I told Brian I was certain it was a kidney stone. He reminded me that I still had a pain killer left over from my C-section and brought it to me. It kicked in quickly and I fell asleep. I woke up at 12:30 feeling like I had slept 7 or 8 hours. I was drooling and when I felt saliva flood my mouth I ran to the bathroom and barely made it to the sink. I threw up 7 times in the next 5 hours in various places around the house. Luckily the pain meds kept the kidney pain to a dull ache while I was throwing up. It was all over by 5:30 am but I felt worse than I did after my induced labor and C-section. Luckily Aiden hadn't gotten sick at all on Tuesday night while I was dealing with all this. Wednesday morning I could barely walk and after a few hours of trying to take care of Aiden, who still had liquid diarrhea, I called Brian home from work. He took over and I spent the rest of the day sleeping, waking up around 8 pm and feeling much better. Last night we were up again for two rounds of vomiting with Aiden and I took him in at noon to see the doctor today.
Aiden was a screaming mess as soon as we walked in the exam room (see: remembers shots). Dr. Farrior checked his ears, throat and stomach while the kiddo had an all-out panic attack. The doctor said we'd done a good job of keeping Aiden hydrated and that he didn't feel an anti-nausea perscription was necessary but he was going to order a stool collection to test for salmonella and other food poisonings. (Lovely.) No sooner had he said this than a river of cranberry juice came spewing out of Aiden's mouth. It ricocheted off the exam table, splattering the wall and soaking his shirt, my arm, his blanket and part of my shirt. The doctor was spared from the mess and handed me a stack of paper towels, telling me not to worry about the table or the floor. Aiden shot out another waterfall of vomit and the doctor said "I think I'll go ahead and write that perscription for you."
Ten minutes later I'm at the CVS pharmacy that backs up to Humble Pediatrics. I walk up to the percription counter soaking wet (remember, Hurricane Dolly has brought in tons of rain during all this) and reeking of vomit. I tell the older woman at the counter that I need a perscription for anti-nausea medication filled and I'll have to wait on it because my son is throwing up about every 10 minutes. She looks down her nose, over the rim of her glasses at me, obviously unimpressed with my confession. (Can she not SMELL the vomit on me? Surely she can see it. It's cranberry juice red!) I trot over to the baby section to pick up the Pedialyte the doctor recommended and bring Aiden back to the waiting area of the pharmacy. He leans back against me, exhausted, drinking water out of his sippy cup. The pharmacists are working at a pace previously reserved for postal employees when Aiden begins to scream and squirm. I stand up and start to sway with him when another avalance of puke comes tumbling out of him. This time it drenches us both. Three more waves of vomit hit the carpet before an employee is kind enough to tell me where the bathroom is. As I drip and slosh my way there (some of it landed in my flip flop) I am secretly happy that decrepit old nag at the pharmacy counter now has proof I wasn't lying about the "every ten minutes" thing.
Someone is in the women's bathroom with the door locked so I brazenly enter the empty men's bathroom. Aiden is already in the second outfit I brought with us and I am out of clothes for him. I strip him down to his diaper, clean him up and then attempt to clean the puke off of me. I am certain they'll have my perscription ready when I get back to the counter. Indeed, as I make my way back, with Aiden howling like a siren, I only have to wait about 90 seconds more for the meds.
Once we're home, unloaded and all the clothes are in the wash, I call Brian to tell him the news. I'm looking over the THREE different stool collection sets when I hear Aiden whimper and I see him standing in a puddle of something that is leaking from his diaper. I remove the diaper to find it full of pure liquid poo - stool collection #1.
Into the tub he goes, while I am wondering how people with more than one child manage these types of situations. We fill and drain the water twice, after he poops in the water before I can get him totally clean and I mentally note that this is his fourth bath in 24 hours. Poor baby.
One-third of a CASE of diapers later, my day is almost over. Brian is off work and headed home to relieve me. (Keep in mind I'm only about 36 hours out from passing a kidney stone myself). Somehow amidst this chaos I have also managed to order the dog's vaccines online and schedule an appointment for myself to see my urologist to make sure everything with my kidneys is okay. Thank goodness my neighbor is having a Southern Living party tonight! I need out of the house!
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Is it ONLY Tuesday?
How blonde is this: I have been so busy with my projects and a sick kiddo that I didn't know until last night there was a tropical storm in the gulf! I never watch TV. Or if I do turn it on it's because two hours of toddler whimpering and whining have melted my resolve to not show movies to children under 2 and I'm desperate for Disney to save me from my torturer.
Brian is calmly lying on the couch, listening to the storm forecast. I'm on the edge of the couch feeling about as prepared as the Galvestonians were in the fall of 1900. Sure, it's going to completely miss us but it's the RAIN I'm worried about. A solid week of storms means I'll be locked in the house with Aiden, unable to take him to the pool or park. Even more fun will be trying to let Major outside durring the torrential downpours. I'll be fighting to keep a screaming, angry Aiden, who wants to follow the dog out, dry inside the house while trying to coax a soaking wet dog onto a towel and topping him with another towel before he can shake water across the house. Which never works and Aiden ends up slipping on the tiniest puddle of water, sending him completely over the edge and into one of his horrible tantrums that usually end in comatose-like sleep because he's exerted so much energy. Just the thought of all of this makes me want to dress him in swim trunks for seven days and let him get rain drenched on the porch, just to ensure he gets the fresh air he needs. Maybe watching the storms and doodling with that bucket of sidewalk chalk I haven't opened will be a fun new activity I can keep him occupied with.
Brian is calmly lying on the couch, listening to the storm forecast. I'm on the edge of the couch feeling about as prepared as the Galvestonians were in the fall of 1900. Sure, it's going to completely miss us but it's the RAIN I'm worried about. A solid week of storms means I'll be locked in the house with Aiden, unable to take him to the pool or park. Even more fun will be trying to let Major outside durring the torrential downpours. I'll be fighting to keep a screaming, angry Aiden, who wants to follow the dog out, dry inside the house while trying to coax a soaking wet dog onto a towel and topping him with another towel before he can shake water across the house. Which never works and Aiden ends up slipping on the tiniest puddle of water, sending him completely over the edge and into one of his horrible tantrums that usually end in comatose-like sleep because he's exerted so much energy. Just the thought of all of this makes me want to dress him in swim trunks for seven days and let him get rain drenched on the porch, just to ensure he gets the fresh air he needs. Maybe watching the storms and doodling with that bucket of sidewalk chalk I haven't opened will be a fun new activity I can keep him occupied with.
Monday, July 21, 2008
My Sweet, Sick Boy
You're not going to be seeing much of me online or out and about this week...
Aiden woke up yesterday in a foul mood, kicking on the changing table and later biting Brian out of frustration. Not at all like our playful and busy-but-sweethearted boy. I figured he must be coming down with something. He woke up at midnight with a 101.7° fever wanting some juice and had a full-blown cold by 9 am this morning when he got up from his first nap. When I laid him down for his second nap he was quiet long enough for me to move clothes to the dryer, start a new load of wash and do my quick dust of all the flat surfaces in the entry, kitchen and living room. I had JUST sat down to work on the shelf sitters I'm making for the charity craft show when I heard him cry out. I let him fuss for a few minutes then went in to check on him. I instantly felt like the worst mother in the world.
Aiden was covered in pink. He had thrown up and the smell was overpowering. Worse, he'd thrown up once in the crib, stood up and then thrown up again over the side of the crib. There was a GIANT puddle of pinkish tinted puke (from his cranberry grape juice and medicine) on the sheets and large pink splatter stains all over his shirt, his blanket, the carpet and the stuffed doberman I made for him. I picked him up and set him on his changing table before I realized his bum was covered in vomit, too. He must have thrown up, stood up, lost his balance, sat in it, then stood up again to throw up over the side. So now the changing table pad is pink, too. Gross.
I strip Aiden down for a bath (chunks are falling off of him - HOW is it in his hair?) and hurry him in to the bathroom for a splash-rinse before I fill the tub with Johnson's vapor bath and let him soak. The washer is only 8-10 minutes into it's cycle and the dryer is full of still-wet clothes so I can't do anything for the moment. I let Aiden take a long bath and we blow bubbles in the tub, which makes him laugh for the first time this morning. I'm dressing him on the couch when I hear the washer finish it's cycle and I don rubber gloves to tackle the room of puke.
An hour and a half later my fourth load of laundry for the day is running, the crib mattress has been scrubbed, the sheets have been changed, the carpet has been hit with the Spot Bot and the crib itself has had all the dribbles and splatter washed away. I'm about to put Aiden down for his super late, much needed nap when I find a shredded toothpaste box that I KNOW was sitting brand new, with toothpaste in it, on Brian's counter this morning. The hunt for the toothpaste tube begins. In my head I'm already writing the story on my blog when I find it, whole and unopened, in the bottom of Aiden's closet. Disaster avoided - his clothes are safe!
When he won't stop whimpering at my feet, I pull out his big, soft octopus chair and put in the Jungle Book. I sit on the floor beside him to get him engaged in the movie as I eye the mountain of laundry needing to be folded behind us. The little boy who doesn't ever slow down for a cuddle grabs his blanket and crawls into my lap. He lets me hold him until he begans to nod off and I lay him down for another nap. I'd say cleaning up all the mess this morning was well worth that 30 minutes! Funny, I don't mind him getting colds. It's the only time he wants to be held!
Aiden woke up yesterday in a foul mood, kicking on the changing table and later biting Brian out of frustration. Not at all like our playful and busy-but-sweethearted boy. I figured he must be coming down with something. He woke up at midnight with a 101.7° fever wanting some juice and had a full-blown cold by 9 am this morning when he got up from his first nap. When I laid him down for his second nap he was quiet long enough for me to move clothes to the dryer, start a new load of wash and do my quick dust of all the flat surfaces in the entry, kitchen and living room. I had JUST sat down to work on the shelf sitters I'm making for the charity craft show when I heard him cry out. I let him fuss for a few minutes then went in to check on him. I instantly felt like the worst mother in the world.
Aiden was covered in pink. He had thrown up and the smell was overpowering. Worse, he'd thrown up once in the crib, stood up and then thrown up again over the side of the crib. There was a GIANT puddle of pinkish tinted puke (from his cranberry grape juice and medicine) on the sheets and large pink splatter stains all over his shirt, his blanket, the carpet and the stuffed doberman I made for him. I picked him up and set him on his changing table before I realized his bum was covered in vomit, too. He must have thrown up, stood up, lost his balance, sat in it, then stood up again to throw up over the side. So now the changing table pad is pink, too. Gross.
I strip Aiden down for a bath (chunks are falling off of him - HOW is it in his hair?) and hurry him in to the bathroom for a splash-rinse before I fill the tub with Johnson's vapor bath and let him soak. The washer is only 8-10 minutes into it's cycle and the dryer is full of still-wet clothes so I can't do anything for the moment. I let Aiden take a long bath and we blow bubbles in the tub, which makes him laugh for the first time this morning. I'm dressing him on the couch when I hear the washer finish it's cycle and I don rubber gloves to tackle the room of puke.
An hour and a half later my fourth load of laundry for the day is running, the crib mattress has been scrubbed, the sheets have been changed, the carpet has been hit with the Spot Bot and the crib itself has had all the dribbles and splatter washed away. I'm about to put Aiden down for his super late, much needed nap when I find a shredded toothpaste box that I KNOW was sitting brand new, with toothpaste in it, on Brian's counter this morning. The hunt for the toothpaste tube begins. In my head I'm already writing the story on my blog when I find it, whole and unopened, in the bottom of Aiden's closet. Disaster avoided - his clothes are safe!
When he won't stop whimpering at my feet, I pull out his big, soft octopus chair and put in the Jungle Book. I sit on the floor beside him to get him engaged in the movie as I eye the mountain of laundry needing to be folded behind us. The little boy who doesn't ever slow down for a cuddle grabs his blanket and crawls into my lap. He lets me hold him until he begans to nod off and I lay him down for another nap. I'd say cleaning up all the mess this morning was well worth that 30 minutes! Funny, I don't mind him getting colds. It's the only time he wants to be held!
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Revenge of Dora
Remember back in March when the girls at work threw Brian a Dora birthday party as a hilarious practical joke? Well one of the gifts Brian got was a large, poseable Dora figurine dressed in a hot pink ballet tutu. When Aiden found her in the box yesterday and wanted to see her, I giggled and opened it for him. I said her name and laughed aloud when he repeated "Dara" (like "dada" with the r replacing the d).
This morning he had only been awake for 10 minutes when he came running into our bathroom, where I was pulling back my hair, stopped short and beaming, showed me Dora (with her arms and head twised the wrong direction in an exorcist-like pose) and shouted "DARA"! Then he gave her a hug and promptly threw her at me. (Boys.)
Here is a picture I took as he ran past with his hot pink tutued girlfriend in a choke hold:
And here is where he left her in a pile of books when he found something more interesting to do: (pulling kleenex out of the box I left unattended as I snapped pictures)
I'd like to thank the gals at Brian's office for buying "girl toys" so I don't have to endure Brian's protests and eye rolls when I want to provide Aiden with an array of toys, irregardless of the social stigmas attached to them. (Don't think I have forgotten about the cabbage patch baby either, Bri!) Nevermind that we absolutely could NOT leave Tuesday Morning yesterday, where I had stopped in to look for children's life jackets and new books for him, without a three dollar pair of construction vehicles. I think everyone in the store heard me calmly repeating to my screaming 15 month-old "First we buy the trucks and THEN we can open them" as he banged the box in frustration along the shopping cart handle bar. I tried to maintain a serene face - and not burst out laughing - when I handed the sweet old lady at the register the thrashed, partially dis-assembled box with the trucks dangling by their packaging wires so she could scan the battered barcode. This, of course, was after our trip to the library where I had wrangled Aiden at the checkout table (he's discovered pulling things out of my purse and throwing them is a good way to make me put him down so I can retrieve my tampons and other launched items) when the librarian, who also teaches the story time, didn't recognize us. She smiled as she handed me a bookmark with the story time information and invited us to come "let him get some energy out". It made me feel better knowing that his frequent public maulings of her hand puppets as she tried to lead the group in Old MacDonald had been forgotten...
Sometimes I have to admit that Aiden's mild misbehavior keeps me in check and reminds me I need to be the responsible parent every once in a while. And then, as my wonderful Playful Parenting book suggests, there are times I am happy to just be playful. Like at midnight last night when Aiden woke up for no reason and wanted to explore in the dark and then have a snack. We sat in the kitchen eating toasted raisin swirl bread with cream cheese frosting, playing peek-a-boo and giggling softly so we wouldn't wake Brian. THAT I know I will remember forever!
Tay's What-Kind-Of-Mother-Are-You-Feeding-Them-That-For-Breakfast Divine Frosted Raisin Bread:
2 slices of cinnamon raisin swirl bread toasted
small dollop of cream cheese frosting
Spread frosting thinly over the toasted raisin bread just removed from the toaster and let it slightly melt. Serve warm. Works wonders on sick, irritable children and Monday mornings.
This morning he had only been awake for 10 minutes when he came running into our bathroom, where I was pulling back my hair, stopped short and beaming, showed me Dora (with her arms and head twised the wrong direction in an exorcist-like pose) and shouted "DARA"! Then he gave her a hug and promptly threw her at me. (Boys.)
Here is a picture I took as he ran past with his hot pink tutued girlfriend in a choke hold:
And here is where he left her in a pile of books when he found something more interesting to do: (pulling kleenex out of the box I left unattended as I snapped pictures)
I'd like to thank the gals at Brian's office for buying "girl toys" so I don't have to endure Brian's protests and eye rolls when I want to provide Aiden with an array of toys, irregardless of the social stigmas attached to them. (Don't think I have forgotten about the cabbage patch baby either, Bri!) Nevermind that we absolutely could NOT leave Tuesday Morning yesterday, where I had stopped in to look for children's life jackets and new books for him, without a three dollar pair of construction vehicles. I think everyone in the store heard me calmly repeating to my screaming 15 month-old "First we buy the trucks and THEN we can open them" as he banged the box in frustration along the shopping cart handle bar. I tried to maintain a serene face - and not burst out laughing - when I handed the sweet old lady at the register the thrashed, partially dis-assembled box with the trucks dangling by their packaging wires so she could scan the battered barcode. This, of course, was after our trip to the library where I had wrangled Aiden at the checkout table (he's discovered pulling things out of my purse and throwing them is a good way to make me put him down so I can retrieve my tampons and other launched items) when the librarian, who also teaches the story time, didn't recognize us. She smiled as she handed me a bookmark with the story time information and invited us to come "let him get some energy out". It made me feel better knowing that his frequent public maulings of her hand puppets as she tried to lead the group in Old MacDonald had been forgotten...
Sometimes I have to admit that Aiden's mild misbehavior keeps me in check and reminds me I need to be the responsible parent every once in a while. And then, as my wonderful Playful Parenting book suggests, there are times I am happy to just be playful. Like at midnight last night when Aiden woke up for no reason and wanted to explore in the dark and then have a snack. We sat in the kitchen eating toasted raisin swirl bread with cream cheese frosting, playing peek-a-boo and giggling softly so we wouldn't wake Brian. THAT I know I will remember forever!
Tay's What-Kind-Of-Mother-Are-You-Feeding-Them-That-For-Breakfast Divine Frosted Raisin Bread:
2 slices of cinnamon raisin swirl bread toasted
small dollop of cream cheese frosting
Spread frosting thinly over the toasted raisin bread just removed from the toaster and let it slightly melt. Serve warm. Works wonders on sick, irritable children and Monday mornings.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Always Art
Sure I may have a degree in psychology and an official job title of "Mom" but my passion has been the same since I started doodling in the third grade. I have always loved any kind of art.
Actually, I have a story to tell that no one knows. It all began in Mrs. Key's homeroom in third grade. We were assigned seats alphabetically so the teacher could learn our names at the beginning of the year. Between my friend Leslie and I sat a boy named Kevin. He was a pretty smooth little kid and was always trying to do things to impress us. One day, after I told him I liked the Garfield comic strip because of how cute the characters were drawn, he drew me a picture of Garfield. I don't think I had experienced true envy until then. I couldn't believe he'd been able to recreate something just by looking at it. I immediately got a piece of paper and tried to do the same. It looked terrible but Kevin was stunned. He confessed he had traced Garfield several times until he had the pencil strokes memorized enough to doodle it. I had looked at it and then drawn it free-hand. (Albeit my doodle looked like Garfield mangled & dead on the roadside...) Determined to learn, I began doodling all over any paper I was given. By the fourth grade I'd come up with some of my own characters and when the columns of my spiral notebook were full, my friends begged me to draw on their paper. When I was 9 my dad bought the family a brand new computer for Christmas that was for us kids to use. My brother busied himself trying to hack into the tetris game my mom had installed and then hidden because she didn't allow video games (for anyone but herself! LOL!). I found MS Paint and started playing. The day after Christmas I had made a "Happy Holidays" sign and figured out how to hit "preview" so it would cover the whole screen, kind of like a frozen screen saver. When I showed my dad he about dropped his soda and called my mom in to see. From then on I had a desk in my room stocked with drawing tablets, colored pencils and basic art supplies. By high school I was certain I would be sued by Disney for being able to draw nearly all of their animated characters and in college I discovered Photoshop. Five years later I can hardly go a day without creating something in photoshop and I am now teaching myself how to use a second Adobe software: Illustrator.
Brian has been more than supportive, allowing significant space for my art supplies and building additional shelves in the top of closets or taking me back to Ikea when I need more storage. I absolutely love art! Maybe one day I'll make him rich. It's the least I could do after all the years of finding beads in the carpet and him having to endure a constant stream of on-going projects cluttering at least one flat surface in the house. And while I never want to push Aiden to do anything he doesn't want, there is a reason that a canvas bin of kid-friendly art supplies is kept on the shelf just above his toys within his curious reach. I know what I am risking and I would gladly re-paint crayon-covered walls (and then re-cover them with chalkboard paint) to ensure he has access to art. I haven't told Brian but when he's older, I also want to provide him with tools, wood, nails and string so he can make his own fun things. Art & imaginative play. I can't think of any better way to spend childhood!
Actually, I have a story to tell that no one knows. It all began in Mrs. Key's homeroom in third grade. We were assigned seats alphabetically so the teacher could learn our names at the beginning of the year. Between my friend Leslie and I sat a boy named Kevin. He was a pretty smooth little kid and was always trying to do things to impress us. One day, after I told him I liked the Garfield comic strip because of how cute the characters were drawn, he drew me a picture of Garfield. I don't think I had experienced true envy until then. I couldn't believe he'd been able to recreate something just by looking at it. I immediately got a piece of paper and tried to do the same. It looked terrible but Kevin was stunned. He confessed he had traced Garfield several times until he had the pencil strokes memorized enough to doodle it. I had looked at it and then drawn it free-hand. (Albeit my doodle looked like Garfield mangled & dead on the roadside...) Determined to learn, I began doodling all over any paper I was given. By the fourth grade I'd come up with some of my own characters and when the columns of my spiral notebook were full, my friends begged me to draw on their paper. When I was 9 my dad bought the family a brand new computer for Christmas that was for us kids to use. My brother busied himself trying to hack into the tetris game my mom had installed and then hidden because she didn't allow video games (for anyone but herself! LOL!). I found MS Paint and started playing. The day after Christmas I had made a "Happy Holidays" sign and figured out how to hit "preview" so it would cover the whole screen, kind of like a frozen screen saver. When I showed my dad he about dropped his soda and called my mom in to see. From then on I had a desk in my room stocked with drawing tablets, colored pencils and basic art supplies. By high school I was certain I would be sued by Disney for being able to draw nearly all of their animated characters and in college I discovered Photoshop. Five years later I can hardly go a day without creating something in photoshop and I am now teaching myself how to use a second Adobe software: Illustrator.
Brian has been more than supportive, allowing significant space for my art supplies and building additional shelves in the top of closets or taking me back to Ikea when I need more storage. I absolutely love art! Maybe one day I'll make him rich. It's the least I could do after all the years of finding beads in the carpet and him having to endure a constant stream of on-going projects cluttering at least one flat surface in the house. And while I never want to push Aiden to do anything he doesn't want, there is a reason that a canvas bin of kid-friendly art supplies is kept on the shelf just above his toys within his curious reach. I know what I am risking and I would gladly re-paint crayon-covered walls (and then re-cover them with chalkboard paint) to ensure he has access to art. I haven't told Brian but when he's older, I also want to provide him with tools, wood, nails and string so he can make his own fun things. Art & imaginative play. I can't think of any better way to spend childhood!
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
I need a distraction...
To see if my creative juices will get going again. I was on a roll and then Aiden refused to nap - LOUDLY - and *poof* the creative spark was gone. We'll see if writing on my blog brings it back!
I'm still working on getting through my Playful Parenting book. It's been good, right up there with Redirecting Children's Behavior. I like that this author gives lots of examples. Sometimes I feel like I know what the outcome should be but I don't know what action to take. For example, if your child cusses, Lawrence instructs readers to say in a calm, playful tone "You can say that word all you want but if you say Bogglildyboop, you're in BIG trouble!" Kids will ALWAYS shout "bogglildyboop" and then you can scoop them up & cuddle or start play wrestling - anything. He says he knows most parents would argue that doesn't address the cussing "problem" but he insists that young children only use bad words to get a parent's attention. The next time they want to drop a verbal bomb, it will be a playfully-said "bogglildyboop" because THAT was the word that got them all the positive attention last time and it is now a fun cue they can use to "ask" for your attention. Nothing happened when they said the cuss word so that drops out of their bag of tricks IF you never react to it. ;)
Which brings me to my next Aiden story.....
CRAP. I have brought all use of the "undesireable" phrases to a screeching hault except for the word crap. It flies out of my mouth and I didn't realize I was saying it. Until I started hearing it echoed! Luckily Aiden cannot pronounce p's so his "crap" sounds identical to "car" (caah) except for the r sound he's learning to slip in (crahh). After a slip-up, and an echo, I usually say "CAR! Yay!" and show him a car. He doesn't seem to be fooled - I hear him in his playroom practicing dropping things, saying "Uh, oh" followed by a short, frustrated "crahh" that sounds exactly like mine. Great.
I have decided it's just easier to change my verbal habits than worry about Aiden using profanity at 15 months. So if you see me drop something and mutter "car", you'll know why!
For the Grandmas: Rest assured crap isn't Aiden's only new word. He shouts out something new every day. Today it is "boat", clear as a bell. Before that it was "water". His signing is getting more reliable, too. He'll sign "hungry" if you say snack, lunch, hungry, food, dinner, breakfast - anything. It's nice to ask him and get a response. Except that his sign for hungry has progressed to a long drawn out "ahhhhh" as he pats his hand over his mouth, making the native american war cry we all learned how to do in Kindergarten. He's hilarious!
Oh, speaking of hilarious, he's learned to point to eyes and noses. Unfortunately he hasn't distinguished between I and eye. So I'll be saying "Aiden, I can't let you run into the street" and he'll proptly poke me in the eye, with a smile big as Texas, waiting for me to celebrate that he correctly located that part of my face. Thanks kiddo! Less problematic is the knows vs. nose confusion. "Aiden, Major knows that's your toy and he won't take it from you. Find his bone." Aiden turns, smiling with his finger half up his nose, and turns back to continue trying to hand the peek-a-block to the dog. LOL!
I'm still working on getting through my Playful Parenting book. It's been good, right up there with Redirecting Children's Behavior. I like that this author gives lots of examples. Sometimes I feel like I know what the outcome should be but I don't know what action to take. For example, if your child cusses, Lawrence instructs readers to say in a calm, playful tone "You can say that word all you want but if you say Bogglildyboop, you're in BIG trouble!" Kids will ALWAYS shout "bogglildyboop" and then you can scoop them up & cuddle or start play wrestling - anything. He says he knows most parents would argue that doesn't address the cussing "problem" but he insists that young children only use bad words to get a parent's attention. The next time they want to drop a verbal bomb, it will be a playfully-said "bogglildyboop" because THAT was the word that got them all the positive attention last time and it is now a fun cue they can use to "ask" for your attention. Nothing happened when they said the cuss word so that drops out of their bag of tricks IF you never react to it. ;)
Which brings me to my next Aiden story.....
CRAP. I have brought all use of the "undesireable" phrases to a screeching hault except for the word crap. It flies out of my mouth and I didn't realize I was saying it. Until I started hearing it echoed! Luckily Aiden cannot pronounce p's so his "crap" sounds identical to "car" (caah) except for the r sound he's learning to slip in (crahh). After a slip-up, and an echo, I usually say "CAR! Yay!" and show him a car. He doesn't seem to be fooled - I hear him in his playroom practicing dropping things, saying "Uh, oh" followed by a short, frustrated "crahh" that sounds exactly like mine. Great.
I have decided it's just easier to change my verbal habits than worry about Aiden using profanity at 15 months. So if you see me drop something and mutter "car", you'll know why!
For the Grandmas: Rest assured crap isn't Aiden's only new word. He shouts out something new every day. Today it is "boat", clear as a bell. Before that it was "water". His signing is getting more reliable, too. He'll sign "hungry" if you say snack, lunch, hungry, food, dinner, breakfast - anything. It's nice to ask him and get a response. Except that his sign for hungry has progressed to a long drawn out "ahhhhh" as he pats his hand over his mouth, making the native american war cry we all learned how to do in Kindergarten. He's hilarious!
Oh, speaking of hilarious, he's learned to point to eyes and noses. Unfortunately he hasn't distinguished between I and eye. So I'll be saying "Aiden, I can't let you run into the street" and he'll proptly poke me in the eye, with a smile big as Texas, waiting for me to celebrate that he correctly located that part of my face. Thanks kiddo! Less problematic is the knows vs. nose confusion. "Aiden, Major knows that's your toy and he won't take it from you. Find his bone." Aiden turns, smiling with his finger half up his nose, and turns back to continue trying to hand the peek-a-block to the dog. LOL!
Monday, July 7, 2008
Double Trouble
Brian's cousins, Melissa & Zach Gleason, moved to Houston this weekend and they brought Aunt LeeAnn and Melissa's sisters with them! Us gals had entirely too much fun! Aiden got to play with his second cousins Ruthie (2 and a half) and Lily (4 months) for the first time.
Everyone knows Aiden is a "busy" boy so when I heard that Ruthie was a bit of a handful I was quite excited for someone to wear our little man out! When we first got to the house, Ruthie was playing upstairs on her new Ikea table with some new Ikea baby food dishes. When Aiden grabbed for a bowl and spoon, he promptly got his first lesson in table manners. He stood dumbfounded and let Ruthie instruct him about which items he wasn't allowed to touch (all of them) and that he should sit. NOW. To my surprise, he sat, still watching her intently and waiting for her next instruction. Then he spied her plastic shopping cart.
Aiden is really into anything with wheels. He loves cars and to push things. He couldn't resist the shopping cart....full of Ruthie's brand new dishes. She let out a protest as he sped off with her cart and I split up the first fight of the weekend about 90 seconds after they had met.
I found myself giggling about what good "training" this would be for Aiden, who doesn't have any older siblings. He got some practice in "sharing" (read: remaining calm when items were pried from his hands) and learned that mom & dad are more apt to give hugs and take pictures than to win his battles for him. He got to see how older children do NOT throw their food on the floor and he finally learned to climb down stairs safely. Well, without any major falls any ways.
It was a fun weekend full of laughs (see: Aunt LeeAnn in town) and Brian and I both remembered how much we miss having his family close. We're excited Zach & Melissa are less than an hour away.
So let's get to the pictures!
Here is Aiden on the drive out to their house watching "caahs" out the window
Being cute...
And showing off a few light elbow bruises from all the times he went up & down the stairs. He didn't fall, he just practiced THAT MUCH! (The bruise on his forehead was my fault - he bonked his head on the wall trying to fight me off while I took his shoes off. Or wiped his face or some other totally inappropriate mommy activity....LOL!)
Rub-A-Dub-Dub two cousins in the tub!
And Aiden must need a rinse...
They enjoyed a bath together on Saturday night and luckily there were no anatomy questions. We dressed Aiden in pajamas for the ride home afterwards.
Aiden & Ruthie Story: We brought the pack & play so Aiden could sleep yesterday afternoon. He had fallen madly in love with Ruthie's bald Cabbage Patch baby and was content to cuddle it and his blanket for his nap. (She didn't mind, she went down for a nap at the same time.) A little while later - maybe 20 minutes - we heard a commotion up stairs, someone shouted "RUTHIE!" and then we heard Ruthie's little feet scampering across the floor as fast as she could run to her room. Bekah brought Aiden downstairs. He had been awoken from his nap by a little lotion finger painting on his face. Cousins! LOL! I couldn't resist a picture! He had the softest skin and smelled divine all evening!
Everyone knows Aiden is a "busy" boy so when I heard that Ruthie was a bit of a handful I was quite excited for someone to wear our little man out! When we first got to the house, Ruthie was playing upstairs on her new Ikea table with some new Ikea baby food dishes. When Aiden grabbed for a bowl and spoon, he promptly got his first lesson in table manners. He stood dumbfounded and let Ruthie instruct him about which items he wasn't allowed to touch (all of them) and that he should sit. NOW. To my surprise, he sat, still watching her intently and waiting for her next instruction. Then he spied her plastic shopping cart.
Aiden is really into anything with wheels. He loves cars and to push things. He couldn't resist the shopping cart....full of Ruthie's brand new dishes. She let out a protest as he sped off with her cart and I split up the first fight of the weekend about 90 seconds after they had met.
I found myself giggling about what good "training" this would be for Aiden, who doesn't have any older siblings. He got some practice in "sharing" (read: remaining calm when items were pried from his hands) and learned that mom & dad are more apt to give hugs and take pictures than to win his battles for him. He got to see how older children do NOT throw their food on the floor and he finally learned to climb down stairs safely. Well, without any major falls any ways.
It was a fun weekend full of laughs (see: Aunt LeeAnn in town) and Brian and I both remembered how much we miss having his family close. We're excited Zach & Melissa are less than an hour away.
So let's get to the pictures!
Here is Aiden on the drive out to their house watching "caahs" out the window
Being cute...
And showing off a few light elbow bruises from all the times he went up & down the stairs. He didn't fall, he just practiced THAT MUCH! (The bruise on his forehead was my fault - he bonked his head on the wall trying to fight me off while I took his shoes off. Or wiped his face or some other totally inappropriate mommy activity....LOL!)
Rub-A-Dub-Dub two cousins in the tub!
And Aiden must need a rinse...
They enjoyed a bath together on Saturday night and luckily there were no anatomy questions. We dressed Aiden in pajamas for the ride home afterwards.
Aiden & Ruthie Story: We brought the pack & play so Aiden could sleep yesterday afternoon. He had fallen madly in love with Ruthie's bald Cabbage Patch baby and was content to cuddle it and his blanket for his nap. (She didn't mind, she went down for a nap at the same time.) A little while later - maybe 20 minutes - we heard a commotion up stairs, someone shouted "RUTHIE!" and then we heard Ruthie's little feet scampering across the floor as fast as she could run to her room. Bekah brought Aiden downstairs. He had been awoken from his nap by a little lotion finger painting on his face. Cousins! LOL! I couldn't resist a picture! He had the softest skin and smelled divine all evening!
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