New baby is comin... move over.

So, little R is my baby.  You can tell why last born children are thought to be a little spoiled. I know we STILL say that about my little brother.  R got nursed longer, she got to use her pacifier longer, she got to use a bottle much longer.  Basically, she gets to be the baby as long as she wants.  Or wanted that is.  The new baby is coming, and it is at the point where I realized that we have much less time than I think.   The recommendation is not to change anything in the two months leading up to and the two months after the baby is born.  Well crap.  That window just closed and she is still in the crib. 

She is a funny lady though.  Her bedtime routine involves (I am not lying here) a massage.  The lady demands a full body massage nightly pre-slumber.  She will move her arms, legs, back, whatever into position.  If you aren’t doing it right, she will take your hands and put them where she wants them.  Especially when it is time for a scalp rub.  The lady is intense.  But, once she is done, she calls “papa…” This means that it is his time to come up, take her from my arms and put her in bed.  Once there, she doesn’t make another peep.

Spoiled that one is.  Stubborn too! Yesterday I asked her to sign finished when she was done with dinner.  She said “Nope” and looked over her shoulder with her arms fully crossed.   Seriously?  19 months and an attitude?   Woah.  

She is also a lover.  She still loves to be rocked, held and even squeezed tightly.  She will bring me the baby sling and ask me to tie her in just so she gets that big hug.   The other miraculous thing?  She can share.  She is 19 months old and this lady can share.   A asked her (not so politely) for a toy.  R looked at her, appeared to think about it a while and then she handed it over.   It wasn’t a mistake.  I have seen her do it more than once.  She shares.  How weird.  

This is not to say that there are times when she doesn’t share.  The big ladies call her “Godzilla” because of how she likes to come and crash/smash/steal from their play.  The good lesson from that is that it can all be put back together.   

Anyway… work calls.  Little Miss R is in for quite a surprise come Halloween.   She thinks it is prime livin being the baby.  Being grown up when she wants to and a baby when she doesn’t.   I keep telling her there will be a new baby.  She doesn’t get it.   Come to think of it, I don’t really get it either.   

School days

School.   What a funny thing.  I was just explaining to B this AM that she has been asking me since she was TWO years old to go to school.   At that time, I remember the ECFE teacher asking me when her birthday would be, so she could start high 5.  I explained that she wouldn’t be 4 for another year and a half.  They were floored.   She is tall, articulate and (ahem… ) mature?  Ok.  I lied about the last part.   She does have skills to build in the social areas, but that is what school is all about. 

The strange thing about school, for me, is that it puts on display all of our parenting skills (or lack thereof).  The teacher will notice if she isn’t polite.  She will notice if she doesn’t shower.  Even if she doesn’t use her utensils properly.   I know the whole world is watching, but the teacher – they have the right perspective.  They know exactly what is on par for this age group and what isn’t.  Of course, this is Lake Woebegone right?  All my kids are above average.  That may be, but I have this lifelong horrible fear of standing out.  It all stems from a 2^nd grade spelling bee.  I pretended not to know how to spell the first word.  This way, everyone knew I chose to be done instead of actually not knowing something in front of other people.  GASP.  Now, I have gotten much better, but parenting sure brings these same insecurities to the forefront.  

Anyway – I could go on for days about what has been going on.   I might.   With my regular posting schedule, I should get there in about… 3 years.   The hardest thing about school for B has been getting up in the AM.  She loves the school, and the friends and the routine, but the morning is torture.   Here is where I think she and I are a perfect match.  Let me explain:

I lift her from her bed singing a gentle song.  She, in toddler terms, tells me to shut the f*up.  I sit her on the couch with me where we have 15 minutes to waste.  I get the lotion she made her nana buy, and rub her legs, feet and back and tell her stories.  These could be about anything.  But here is the trick, one of them has to hook her.  She is so intellectual, that one small hook and she is brought fully out of that sleep and into the world asking questions and ready to hurry into the clothes.   Force or aggression would never work with this lady.  Slow, steady and intellectually stimulating.  Today, a story about how she has been preparing for school for more than 2 years.   

Once she is hooked, she looks at the clothes I have picked out and sitting on the couch.  Inevitably, there is something there that is totally wrong.  That is also by design.  This is so she will get off the couch now and take me to the closet to show me what she WILL wear.  Boom.  No fight about leaving the comfort of storytelling to get engaged with the rest of the AM routine.    Then, in the bathroom she wants to use this fancy pre-rinse that shows her where to brush.  I can handle that.  We brush, potty and put on one of “mama’s necklaces.”  Wait, you say. You let her wear your necklaces?  Oh… there is a trick to that too.  I bought some costume necklaces at the State Fair for $2.00 a piece.  They are MINE (wink, wink) and she is wearing them proudly.

Anyway.  That is our routine. We go to the bus stop and sit and talk about nature.  We observe things like why is some of the sidewalk wet while other parts are dry?  Why is it colder today w/o clouds then it was yesterday w/ clouds?  Why does that lady wear tennis shoes with her skirt on her way to the bus?  We are learning all about this dang neighborhood in our 10 minute wait.  

The remaining mystery?  Why in the past two days has she hesitated getting on the bus in the AM?  What is the problem and what is the “trick” to solving it?  I have my theories… but you stopped reading by now anyway. 

Little Dx2

Don't know why these makes me giggle so.  Not much action, even less technique.

For Cousin D

Cousin D wrote to request some videos.  

And the classic too much haha leads to boohoo

Little corn have big ears

So, it is no secret that kids listen to everything.   I mean, B was no more than 15 months when she said, in what was her creepy clear baby voice “the campaign is heating up.” But we have been reminded of this time after time that you CANNOT talk over their head.  They hear it.  Even the boring stuff.  Examples:

We had an exchange student from Japan here when the earthquake hit.   For weeks after that, in the car the ladies (2,3 at the time) would always say “they are talking about Misato.  What are they saying about Japan?  Is Misato OK?”   One would assume that they block out the NPR b/c it isn’t interesting.  So not the case. 

Same thing happened when the world discussed Libya hourly.   Ms. A wanted to know why they were talking about Olivia on the raido.  What did they know about Olivia?  She was very excited. 

The examples abound for how these ladies listen to everything that is said.  My favorites are probably when B jumped out from behind the couch and yelled "Heeeeeers Peter Sagal."  Or, when A asked why on earth the radio know about TV when Terri Gross was talking to the guys who created Yo Gabba Gabba.

Just last week, little B was talking with big B.  Somehow they were talking about going to Jail. Little B informed the big guy* that “Kids don’t go to jail, democrats go to jail.”   Now who the heck has she been talking to?  He quickly corrected her on who he thinks should be in jail.

And, just to be sure I KNOW they they listen, she really got me the other day when I told Brendan that I had a dream where we got up, sipped coffee, ate beignets and read the coffee w/ no chores or kids.   The next day, Father’s day, I made café au lait and beignets.  At the end of that day, 18? 20 hours after my first comment, B asked me “why do you want to get rid of us? Why don’t you want us around for beignets?  They are delicious.” 

Heart breaking.  Kids hear e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g.   They are always paying attention.   Good thing we are always discussing their cuteness, brilliance, sense of humor and balance. Right?

*not THE big guy.   

Video

Remember when I said there are days when we have forced poetry time?  Well, I referenced a video and you know what?  It does exist.  Through the magic of technology and brainstorming ways around non-standard video cords .... I bring you:

Anyone who comments on the mess in the background of the video gets banned from the site FOREVER. :)

Family structures

We talk a lot about loving whoever you want as long as they are nice to you.   You see, your number one job in life is to love yourself and be good to yourself.  Beyond that, if you decide to couple - you need to be sure that that person loves you and is as nice to you as I expect you to be to yourself.

So we talk about families with two mommies, a mommy and a papa, or two papas.   We even found the cutest book And Tango Makes Three at our local ECFE class.  It talks about two male penguins that... well - you should just come over and read the book. 

Two things about this lesson.  One, B was so excited when she came back to ECFE and saw the book.  She said "Teacher M, Teacher M - we have this book!  We have the same exact book at home!"  The teacher was very confused and said to me "I didn't think you would need that book at your house."  I politely said "I think everyone does" but naive me was still shocked that someone would think that only certain people would need books on "fringe" topics.

Secondly - I forgot to talk about more families than just the three options listed above.  Why?  Because I am dumb sometimes.   We were talking on Friday about Mother's day.  B was wishing everyone she saw a happy Mother's day.  This included a group of men playing volleyball.  She as confused why the men didn't answer her.  I explained that there was a day called Father's day - and we could wish them well on that day.  
B told me "I think everyone should celebrate mom's.  I am going to keep wishing them well."  
Ok Lady - do what you want. 
A few moments later, my sister said "I don't have a father." True.
B said "that's right.  You don't.  Why don't you?"
Oops - like I said - I am dumb, never thought to explain that.
Me: "there are all kinds of families, just like we have talked about.  Some with two daddies, some with two mommies, some with a mommy and a daddy and some with just a mommy or just a daddy.  All of those are great families."
B: ....
Me: "plus, my mommy is so great - she doesn't need a daddy for help."
B: "that's true.  Nana is great just as she is."
A: (who i didn't think was listening) "Nana is my Nana and I am happy I don't have to share her with a grandpa."

they grow up fast

Or so everyone tells me...

Apparently faster than I ever realized.  You see... B has informed me that she is pregnant.  She will be getting stretch marks on her belly soon so it looks pretty and decorated like mommy's.  Just what I hoped to share with her.  

A - went flower picking last night.  She decided that the bouquet was so beautiful that she would use it for her wedding.   I asked her when it would be.  Tonight.  Of course.  Who are you marrying A?  R.   Daddy is too tall to dance with and R will be just right.  

Two minutes later Nana asks - A - who are you marrying?  A: Mommy. 

Not sure what lessons we are teaching in our house, but apparently one can be pregnant at 3 as long as they marry by 2. 

I wonder what R is thinking of getting into this week?  Drugs? Stealing?  I should never have let them leave the house. 

Forget the internet

Hot off the press from day care:

B: I like to be Superwomen sometimes.

Kid: Who is superwomen? Is Superwomen a Girl or a VERY BIG girl?

B: I am not sure, we have to check the magazines.

Now I have to figure out what the heck she is reading in her free time...

Nursing. Yep, nursing

So, I have some stories, but they involve nursing and talking about boobs.  So... if you aren't up for that - try this photo on for size.   It is the "tatoo" B wants to put on the car.  She saw a car with skulls all over that.  She indicated that that might be OK for Kassie, but she wants one with a princess sniffing a flower.  Feel free to look away after the photo if you need to. 

Ok, warning aside - R is the funniest lady.   She really likes to nurse, but at some point, she decided that she was the boss.   For whatever reason, I had a hard time keeping up this go round.  It could have something to do with the fact that I have been non-stop pregnant and/or nursing since July 2006.  Perhaps the bod is tired?  Or the fact that she is smaller and has never eaten as much as the other ladies.  Who knows.  All I know is that there wasn't enough for the little lady. 

At times, she would keep poking me and signing "more milk" as she is eating.   Smart ass.

Even A likes to get in on the action when we are discussing nursing.  I was feeding R when she was very small and A came over and looked at me and opened her mouth with a smart smile on.   "Me too momma?" Nope.

One time that really cracked me up, as we were deciding if we were going to stop or not - she caught me changing.  As soon as I took my shirt off, she put her hands over her head and started to cheer like a frat boy.   Apparently we weren't done.  

Well, just this week R caught me in bed and lifted up my shirt.  She pinched me and said Milk.   We have not been nursing for a few months.  I told her that there was no milk in there anymore.   Smart lady that she is, she turned to her papa and asked for a glass of milk.  I thought whew, no drama.  Well, once she had the sippy cup, she brought it over and tried to pour the milk back into my nipple.   Clever girl. 

I just had to share that the ladies are super clever and can tell jokes even w/o words.  All three can make you laugh with their troublesome eyes.  They know they are up to mischief.  I just thought I would have a moment or two before they learned to give the look.  I wonder who taught it to them?  :)

Walking changes everything

Our middle has always been the snuggliest baby we have.  She still would sit for hours in my arms just to nuzzle and cuddle.  I am not going to argue with that.   This disposition lead her to be less than impressed with our decision to have baby #3.   We knew this, but her increased vocabulary has given us a few supporting clues.

First, when we told A around February that we were getting an exchange student to live with us and we were going to pick her up, she told Brendan "Not another babyyyyyyyyyy."  Whew, she sure was pleased with the woman that came.  College age, could read, write and did not steal any lap time from her.

Then, as R transitioned into a walking and talking baby, A said "R is a toddler.  That is much better than baby.  She can now come with me to daycare."   Huge step because I have been talking about this potential transition (B to school, A and R to daycare) for approximately 8 months.  Two months ago it became a possibility.   

Well, R has been walking for at least 4 months with her first steps falling around Christmas time.  She is a complete trouble making machine (as I hear is typical for third children in this family).  We have a bar height table.  She crawls right up on that bad boy.  She enters her cars Dukes of Hazard style and prefers to stand on things that rock, swing or have wheels.  A particularly likes this spunk. 

Last night,  the girls were supposed to be SUPER tired.  They went swimming and all gave it a full workout.   They were whiny and hungry in the car and really mellowed out with a huge imagination bedtime story in the car.   Well, hunger won out.  We had dinner #3 at 8pm.  Then the fun began.

B and I were taking care of some business. The other two could be heard giggling and running.  R would run into the room and sure enough here comes A chasing and imitating her walk.  R found that hilarious and tried to walk in a completely different way.   A would mimic and run away.  In and out, shutting the door between each appearance.   B was so very patient, she would hear them coming and crack the door and welcome them back in.  This happened for about 15 minutes.  Running, playing, laughing.

Finally A stopped R and said "thanks for being so funny.  Kiss me."  Then she said "get to bed so we can rest and do this again tomorrow.  I love you sister."   Whew.  R has finally earned her sister merit badge.

Gross

Ok, I will not go into details, but we had an incident in the car where I didn't believe a baby who said she was sick.  Turns out, that is a bad gamble. 

It was a moment when I thought "oh Michelle... some days you are right about not being able to make it through certain moments." 

I thought, I panicked and then I got to work.   Brendan said he wouldn't have had an issue with the mess.  I did.  I wanted to cry.  Instead, we improvised, we cleaned, we praised everyone who didn't cry about it. 

Woohoo, parenting is glamorous.   Oh, and the car is now stocked with paper towels, baby wipes, Lysol and rubber gloves.  You will not catch me unprepared again dear folks.

And I am sorry...

I really do mean to post, but every time there is a long break it is because I planned to put up a picture or a video.   This time it is/was Ms. A saying a poem.  I cant stand how cute it is.  Perhaps some day you would see it.  But I won't hold out on other stories just because I am incompetent...

It is important to note that should you come to dinner at our house, it is possible that you would be asked to say a poem.  Have one at the ready.  At times we all get shushed and only people who have poems prepared can speak. 

I try to incorporate sound teaching advice

So I was in the break room at work the other day and came across an article for one of the child development classes that was discussing how kids don't just intuitively "get" race.   Everyone talks about raising kids in a global culture and hoping that they will just be "color blind." 

Great in theory, but not in practice.  Kids notice everything.  They see that one person's skin is a different color than theirs.  Heck, my ladies are concerned with who has the same eye color as they do.  B was very calmed the day that I came home with my hair straightened.  Now I "had hair like her and Auntie Elizabeth."  They are comforted by familiarity. 

One day at an appointment,  B and A were chasing down these two boys from Somalia.  B called to them.  She thought she knew them.  They were similar, I guess, to two kids in ECFE.  In that they were about the same age and from the same country.  But these kiddos were definitely not the ones she was thinking of.    Bam.  My smart, super observant kids - the ones who would notice if you parted your hair on the different side of your face - suddenly think all black people look the same. 

That was all the push I needed.  We started to talk about race.  I am not great at it, it is actually a very weird conversation to have.   I don't know what to say or how to say it, but I guess this is good practice for the birds and the bees...?  Whatever.   We look at books and talk about people who are different colors, we talk about our friends, our neighbors - whoever.   Super.  I am doing my part. 

Enter a day in the community.  We head off to take Auntie to swimming class.  We are at Oxford pool which is at Jimmy Lee Recreation center in the Old Rondo neighborhood of St. Paul.  It is a beautiful center with a great pool and fab resources.  I think I only had the big two that day.  We signed Auntie in and were waiting in the commons area.  It was us, Hi Ho Cherry Oh! and about 12 5th graders.  Now, that is a party.   The 5th graders were... being 5th graders.  They were chatting, arguing and talking back to each other.   B went right over to them, looked up (but not too far that tall duck) at them and said "you stop that sassy talk right now."  All heads turn to me.  What the heck? The rec center guy shook his head and said "little lady has a lot of nerve standing up to a group of black kids like that." Time for a change of activity.

We move into the gym where there is a volleyball game in progress.  Jimmy Lee vs. Miriam park.   Now, if there was going to be a race divide across teams, this was certainly going to be the game.  I went in with the thought that the game would be just as eye opening as the basketball game was.   I guess it was - but in a totally different way.  You see - junior high volleyball is boring.  One person hits - maybe someone hits it back.  Then it stops.  Then we start again.  Not so interesting. 

There was a mom there that was joking with me about the Miriam Park girls looking like they were college students.  I laughed and said "maybe so.."  It took me an inordinate amount of time to figure out that she figured I was a parent of the other girls.  Clearly not a parent on her team.  I felt a little dumb.  Then B came into the conversation.  She of course picked up just where the conversation left off.  She informed the woman that "she was black."  Duh right?  I was nervous about where she was going.  And she kept going: "you are black and that is ok."  The lady looks at me.  "We are all the same on the inside you know.  You and I are both beautiful."  I was a little tense.  Yes, this is what I said - but I didn't really think it would be spelled out in such a public way. 

Thankfully, the woman rolled with Ms. B.   She said "yes we are.  That is totally true."  Whew.  We are all the same on the inside.   If this has taught me anything it is that I need to practice now for the sex talk.  I am so not ready!  Oh well.  At least we have the concept down now that a) everyone is different - they should be who they are and b) who they are is beautiful and we should respect that. 

Earthquakes

Did you hear the news?  There was an earthquake in Japan.  This probably wouldn’t have been HUGE news to our babies in ordinary circumstances.  I mean, what is the context?  Why would we show them that kind of devastation?  But, these were not ordinary times. 

We hosted an exchange student for a month.  From where you ask?  From Japan of course.  So, in the AM, the girls caught wind of the earthquake when Brendan informed Misato.  They learned a little about that, enough to bring to day care and ask more questions.   

Well, this must be a difficult position as the provider.  The kids clearly had some insight into this catastrophe.  They want to know more.  She knows that we teach the girls about all kinds of things.  So – what was she to do?  Show them more photos. 

This resulted in the girls coming home keyed up.  Totally nervous, and interested and confused.  B came in saying “there was an earthquake in Misato’s hometown.”  Over and over and over again.  And again.  I have never seen anything like that from her.  Running, screaming, nervous.  I tried to push it off.  I tried to just say “no B, it isn’t her home town.  Her country, but not her town.”  I repeated this several times – back to back, countering her chant with my own.   After about 5x, I realized it was silly.  

Attempt #2.  I sat down.  I said B- tell me your questions or concerns.  She said “It was in Japan!  I need to see a map.” So we got out the easel and drew a map.  We showed her the difference.  A little calmer, she said “what about her family?”  Great- we discussed the family, friends… everyone was OK.   

Then she said “There WAS AN earthquake” still hyper, and then said “but everyone we know is ok.” 

Deescalated.  She gave Misato a pat on the arm and moved on.  On the way out of the room she said “thanks Mom, it helps to know all the information.” 

It is always hard to take the time.  I find myself trying to reason with the children, trying to explain the logical reason why things are the way they are.  And then… when that doesn’t work it hits me.  They aren’t old enough for that.  They need to be listened to instead of talked to.  When I remember how to be a good parent, it works smashingly.  Thankfully, toddlers give you that extra step of time to be able to try the second technique.  It will probably be different with three teenagers.   Oh…2021.  How I fear you.