Oh to be 18 months old again!

As I approach my 35th birthday next week, I've tried to put myself in Bitty Girl's shoes and think about what it would be like to be her. She spends so much time lately screeching and whining and pointing and yelling "NO!" at us, and I feel terrible that she's so frustrated. Lack of words is most of the problem, because she just can't tell us what she wants. And the other part is that she wants everything The Boy has, and that's just not possible for Miss 18-month old.

So here goes. If I were 18 months old......
1. I would rejoice when someone told me to take a nap or go to bed at 7 pm.
2. I would give as many hugs and snuggles as she does.
3. I would rule the kitchen like a queen from my highchair, commanding all my meals.
4. I would take lots of naps in the car.
5. I would still love Elmo.
6. I would love to hang upside down, make silly faces, and blow raspberries on people's tummies.
BUT....
7. I would also be very frustrated to have everyone shutting doors and locking me out of places I want to go.
8. I would be FURIOUS if they tried to distract me when I was upset by offering me some other snack or toy.
9. I would want to do everything my brother does too--it looks more fun than my stuff.
10. I would get tired of people talking about me as if I weren't there.
11. I would get sick of getting schlepped around in the car for everyone's trips to school, the store, and other errands.
12. I would get upset if they pretended to be interested in playing tea party with me, and then actually read the newspaper or tried to clean up some of my toys.
13. I would scream with protest if they made me come in from playing outside before I was done just because they were cold.
14. I would get mad and splash them if they got soap in my eyes in the bathtub.
15. I would try so hard to run and play with my older cousins, because they look like they're having so much fun.
16. I would assert my 18-month old authority and try to boss my family around.
17. I would try to make my voice heard in a family with 2 out of 3 loud people.
18. I would get tired of them telling me what to wear. I want to wear my jellyfish shirt, darn it!

We love you Bitty Girl! We are sorry that you don't have the words you need yet, and that you are at the mercy of our busy schedules sometimes. We appreciate that you are tolerant of our craziness, and that you seem to love us in spite of it!

May I have the envelope please?

And the winner, for Dumbest Mommy on Earth.....

ME!

It's as if I just hopped out of the cabbage patch, I swear. Like I haven't been his mama for nearly FIVE years. Tonight was a family Pancake Dinner at my husband's school, combined with a Bookfair. We actually planned to go. Ahead of time. Like the idiots that we are.

So we went merrily about our day, errands and toy ogling at Target, Bitty Girl taking only a one-hour nap, making Rice Krispie treats, lah di dah... The nap should have sealed it for me, but no, I'm like the girl in the horror movie who keeps walking toward the dark closet even though she knows the killer is in there.

When we arrive at the school, it's nice and early, so no big crowd yet. The Boy is suddenly nervous and refuses to go into the gym, where a teacher and parent that he knows well are cooking pancakes. We let him stay outside for a few minutes, but it's cold, and I had to chase Bitty Girl, so I made him come in. He could sit in his Dad's office, which is in the gym (hence the P.E. Teacher thing). He got a little upset, but seemed to calm down.

One visit to the bookfair should have given us our first. Big. Clue. He was overwhelmed with all the big kids, too many books, and of course gravitated toward the awful Spiderman or Transformers comic-book/magazine type things, instead of all the perfectly wonderful books there. We left the Bookfair without buying a book, and headed for the gym to get in line for pancakes.

Dinner part was fairly uneventful, except for the Bitty Girl problem. She didn't want to eat, didn't want to sit on my lap, wanted to reach across the table and hug/maul the 6 month old baby of the school counselor, wanted Daddy to hold her, was tired, etc. The Boy was actually pretty good, entertained with the person dressed up in a Clifford the Big Red Dog costume, although he got a little rough and pulled Clifford's tail a couple of times.

So what do we do? WE GO BACK TO THE BOOKFAIR. Like complete numbskulls. Like someone just dropped this kid in our laps and we have no idea about his personality or about parenting. What happened to the "quit while you're ahead" or "cut your losses" mentality? Dad took him first, and I followed with Bitty Girl.

Upon arrival, I see Dad having trouble with the "wanting weird comic book Pokemon" thing, so he took Bitty Girl and I took over with the book issue. Instead of just buying him the dumb $4.00 Transformer book that he wanted, and would be guaranteed to provide me with hours of mind-numbing bedtime stories, I decided to take this one to the mattresses. I said I wouldn't spend my money on those books, but he could use his allowance for them. Five minutes of whining and whispered, angry arguing later, I dragged him out. He was starting to kick and fuss, but escalated down the hall, and outside erupted into the hitting, kicking, spitting fury that we haven't seen much lately. Last year at this time, I think we saw a lot of it. We never learn.

Somehow, he calmed down enough to get in the car. We sent Bitty Girl home in Dad's car, for her own personal safety. I managed to take some deep breaths, get him to ride home quietly, and defuse some of the anger--for both of us.

We didn't really discuss things when we got home, both kids were hungry (unfortunate after a Pancake Dinner!) but he knew it was time for pajamas and a story. Bedtime was fairly smooth, I managed to keep myself calm, and he went to sleep fine.

What I am practically too exhausted to reflect upon is this: I SHOULD HAVE SEEN THIS COMING! It was Textbook Boy Behavior, and I am just stupid. First of all, we shouldn't have gone to the dinner. Or I should have dropped him off and let Dad deal with him. Less Mama Drama, less Bitty Girl factor. And second, we should have either avoided the Bookfair entirely, or told him we weren't buying books FROM THE START, and that he could use his allowance for anything he wanted.

I feel frustrated because I get so angry and embarrassed at his tantrum. It's at his Dad's school, for crying out loud! And then I feel terrible that he gets so upset, because it's scary to be out of control like that. And then I feel like an idiot mama for not seeing it coming, and for setting the appropriate expectations.

Sigh. To quote one of my favorite kids' books, the type of book I was TRYING to encourage him to get, (Lily's Purple Plastic Purse), "Today was a difficult day. Tomorrow will be better."

Taking a deep breath

Holidays can be stressful. Thanksgiving was early this year, so the inundation of Christmas music and lights and decorations started a week early.

But I am determined to be at one with it. More this week than ever. In the last three days, we have had THREE friends or family members with weird heart-type stroke issues. One was running a marathon and collapsed, one had a small stroke at home, and one had a mini-stroke symptoms at work. These are young people--two are 38 and one is 47. Various combinations of heart defects, heart blockage, stress, and family history, but all of it is scary. So far, they are all doing well and will hopefully have some answers later this week.

While we're still in the throes of the worry and not knowing all the answers, I'm trying to take the lesson of taking a deep breath, slowing things down, and not getting overwhelmed with birthdays and parties and presents and ridiculous unimportant stuff. I know what's important--it's just easy to let other things cloud my vision.

Thankful, but...

irritable and tired and stressed. I've noticed a strange paradox, or correlation at least. When I'm worried about a friend who's sick or going through a hard time, and I should be most thankful for my healthy family or stable job or beautiful children, I seem to be the grouchiest, most impatient contestant for the Nastiest Mother of the Year! I find myself short with the kids, distracted, and just plain grumpy. I know it's because I am distracted and worried about something bigger than my day-to-day life, but it's frustrating because it's exactly those type of things that help ground me and remind me what life's really all about, and how many blessings I have in my life.

But really, being irritated at my kids for wanting me to play with them? Or snapping at The Boy for the crumbs on the floor? Not my ideal parenting day, that's for sure. But we did play outside in the cold sunshine, practice the bike without training wheels, play baseball, and play "Chase Bitty Girl." So I wasn't all nasty and ungrateful.

I'm also nearing the home stretch of this National Blog Post Month (NaBloPoMo) where I've been posting every day, and I'm exhausted! I feel like I never have time to go back and edit a post, even if I wanted to polish it up, because I have to write another one! So maybe next week I'll go down to a few posts a week and cut myself some pre-holiday slack.

On Two Wheels

I just read a blog post from Catherine Newman, one of my favorite Mama writers, about the "milestones you never read about." Her blog is here and you will laugh and cry!

Yesterday I came home from coffee with friends and walked right into a major milestone. The Boy was in the backyard with Daddy, riding his bike WITHOUT TRAINING WHEELS! I felt like I was invading a private moment as I watched my husband run, hunched over, around the basketball court with his hand behind the bicycle seat. And the wobbly, baby bird way The Boy was riding the bike, with focus and determination but also a huge smile on his face made this Mama Bird so proud.

I almost didn't go outside because I was afraid the Mama Drama effect would ruin his momentum. That suddenly he'd be rendered incapable of riding because I was there. But I did, and he wasn't. I prayed silently that he wouldn't have his first big fall because he was looking over at me. He didn't. They did a few more laps and then it was my turn to hunch and hold.
We did a few laps, and he's getting the hang of it. It was freezing November outside, and too cold to spend hours mastering this new thing, but at least he was riding, with the wheels off.

He's been a sporadic bike rider, going for stretches of riding every day and then leaving the bike untouched for a week, but over the summer had really mastered the training wheels. Every time he would have a big fall or some episode of riding to the park and getting too tired, he'd give it up for a while. He's a December baby, and the bike purchases always seem to be in the fall, right before his birthday and right before the crummy weather hits. And again, here we are--training wheels off right before we may get our first snow of the season.

But riding a two-wheeler with no trainers is a big deal, a big step toward being a big kid, and he was proud of himself. Maybe if the rain stops I'll be in for more hunching and holding.

Photo coming soon--I have a memory of my sister taking a big fall right after she posed--while riding--for her "no training wheels" picture, so I didn't want to take the chance on the first day.

Two Tired Turkeys

Make that four. We survived Thanksgiving weekend, but are all tired and two of us have colds. Bitty Girl is making that croupy cough sound as I type... hope it doesn't get worse.

We had big Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday, The Boy and Hubby had dinner out on Friday, we had friends over to watch the Apple Cup on Saturday, and went to the Science Center today. Lots of germs mixing together, late bedtimes for The Boy three nights in a row, and everyone having their schedule disrupted.

We all have work and school tomorrow, and Bitty Girl is going to cough on her Grandma and Papa but hopefully not get them sick before they leave for Hawaii on Tuesday.

We need some rest to gear up for my birthday (no party planned), The Boy's 5th birthday 11 days later (small easy party planned but need cookies for two preschool classes), two Christmas parties, and Christmas 11 days later.

So we grit our teeth and remind ourselves that it's about family and the spirit of giving and NOT all the stuff. But we could all use a little more sleep.

Hopefully I'll be inspired to close out November with some better blog posts this week! 25 days and going, at least...





In honor of Bitty Girl being 18 months old today, we had a little fun with the shampoo...
A great name for a rock band--The Anvil Heads!

Yes, that's snot running down Pee Wee Herman's nose... She's one of us with a cold...

To Plan or not To Plan...

No question about it. I am a planner. I like to know what's on the calendar, what time we're supposed to be at the party, and when we have a play date. I am married to a planner, as well. If you're guessing we're not very spontaneous, you're right.

But Thanksgiving weekend brings hubby's side of the family into town, which now involves many aunts, uncles, and cousins, as well as the crowd of second cousins, numbering 11 all under the age of 7. Yes, our Thanksgiving dinner was loud and messy.

Notice I said Thanksgiving weekend. That means it's not just Thursday. There are events planned all weekend, including a Friday dinner out, and now various trips to the Aquarium or Science Center or Children's Museums. And trying to coordinate everyone's schedules and naptimes and preferences is interesting, to put it lightly. There are various levels of planners and non-planners in the group, which often leads to interesting discussions and stress levels.

Tonight we extended an open invitation to the family to come watch the Apple Cup football game at our house, for anyone who didn't have tickets. (It's the annual University of Washington vs. Washington State University game, in Seattle this year) There is normally a big Saturday evening gathering at my in-laws, but because of the football game, the gathering was canceled. I was determined to be non-planned about it, leaving things open and figuring we'd get pizza and not worry about who was coming or not.

And by this afternoon, after a barrage of phone calls about tomorrow's plans for the Aquarium, I was still in my laid-back, non-planner (and very non-me) mode. The kink in these plans is The Boy, my first born who doesn't like surprises and who was counting the minutes until his guests arrived. He was really patient all afternoon, SO EXCITED, and very helpful. When he found out his cousins weren't coming after all, and then had to wait an hour for the friends who were late, he was naturally disappointed. He handled it well, thanks to a movie, and then had fun playing with his friend. Slight wobbles of control, but we made it to the end of the game safely. They were both a little wild, thanks to late bedtimes and family gatherings, but they were great considering all that.

So the non-planning started out thinking it might be 10 adults and 9 kids here today, and it ended up being 6 adults and 4 kids, 2 of them mine. So of course we had too much food, but I was very proud of myself for not being stressed about it. Fewer people was actually easier. But both hubby and I agreed that if you PLAN things and have a TIME set for dinner, that maybe people would actually let you know if they were coming AHEAD of time and SHOW UP on time.
But hey, we're laid-back, spontaneous party planners today. And amazingly enough, it turned out fine. Except that our team lost and my sister, the stinkin' Cougar, had to call me to rub our noses in it.

And at least now our house is clean. Maybe we should have people over every 2 weeks--that way we're forced to dust and vacuum and clean the bathrooms!