- I’ve got plenty of ideas for blog posts, but I’m finding it easier to shoot out random thoughts than to write a whole post these days.
- After three pretty decent nights of sleep, Amélie decided to wake up waaaay too often last night and get up waaaaay too early this morning. I have no patience right now.
- I’m thinking that the terrible twos should be called the bipolar twos. I’ve noticed that the terrible part of the twos comes in waves. After almost a month of having a sweet toddler around, the limit-testing-attention-seeking-fake-crying version of my son has come back.
- Amélie has become super proficient in a short time at drag-crawling her was around.
- The trunk of my partner’s car won’t latch closed since Sunday. Since the car dealership (his car is still under warranty) can’t see his car until Thursday, we’ve “fixed” it à la Red Green: with a healthy quantity of duct tape.
- Did you know that we were in the middle of pool safety month right now? Look out for a guest post on the subject either this week or next.
- After a full week of beautiful warm and sunny days, Mother Nature has reverted back to cold rainy days. Oh well, it’ll just make me appreciate the sunny days even more when they come back.
- Though we raise our children in French, we do teach them a bit of English here and there (so far colors and numbers). Last week, my son realized that the colors he knew were represented by two distinct words, one in French and one in English. He now uses his English words in French sentences.
- Amélie is now the proud owner of five teeth. She’s currently working on a sixth tooth: a canine…
- Since last weekend was super busy because of Mother’s day, we didn’t get to set up our veggie garden. We’re planning on setting it up this coming weekend.
Most of the time, my son is absolutely adorable. I mean, how can you not love the quest for independence, the tender love he has for his sister, his charming smile and big blue eyes or his profound fascination with vehicles? Heck, even the mini (and not so mini) tantrums he throws in an effort to develop (and showcase) his assertiveness are adorable in their own way.
There are some moments, though, where I’m just too tired or hungry or hormonal to put up with his antics.
You see, my son seems to think that anytime is good for playtime. Of course, that can be explained by the fact that, well, he’s a toddler. He likes it when his father or I run after him and pretend we’re not able to catch him. It’s a fun game, except when I’ve been sleeping in increments of 90 minutes, haven’t had breakfast yet and he decides to play this game when I have to get him dressed within a certain time frame as was the case last Friday. Yikes!
I tried to be a good sport and be patient as I ran after him. I tried to laugh with him as I caught him and brought him to his room. I tried to distract him with his stuffed animals as I changed his dirty diaper to avoid the mother of all tantrums. When that didn’t work out and I still had to suffer through the kicks and screams of a very vocal and unhappy toddler (which, on a side note, seems to be my cue to start potty training with him as it is a recurrent event), I tried to stay patient and calm with him.
But I could feel my own emotions starting to overwhelm me as I hung on to my last nerve for dear life.
I started to get him dressed, fighting him to get his clothes on as he alternated between going limp limp a rag doll, twisting and turning, kicking and screaming, trying to run away from me and generally doing everything in his power to make the seemingly simple task of putting a few pieced of clothes on him as hard as possible for me. And then, as though he could feel that I was on the verge of losing it, he decided to find that last nerve of mine and trample it into nothingness.
And I cracked.
I cracked. I yelled at him to stay put. Yelled at him to stop moving around. Yelled at him to listen to mommy.
And he did, through tears and his own voice screaming my name over and over again as I finished dressing him. By the end of the near 20 minutes it took me to get him changed and dressed, we pretty much both looked like this:
I gave him a hug and a kiss and told him I loved him. But I felt guilty. Soooooo guilty at yelling at him like I did. But it happened and I can’t go back in time. And I am just human, perfection doesn’t exist. All I can do is know that I love both my kids to death and hope to do better next time.
But damn, this parenting thing is hard some days.
- Ok, so technically, it’s not Tuesday here yet, but since Mr. I-can-fall-asleep-and-start-snoring-within-30-seconds-of-getting-in-bed has done just that, I figured it was as good a time as ever.
- To save my sanity and
not go totally berserk on him for something over which he has no control, I’ve decided to relegate myself to the basement couch for the night. The upside is that it’s cooler downstairs than it is upstairs (yay?).
- I’m still looking for birth stories to share on my Many Faces of Chilbirth page. A big thank you to those of you who have already linked or sent a story. If anyone else is interested, please check out this page for all of the details.
- My dental clinic called today to schedule my yearly exam. They wanted to see me on August 20th. I told them that I was very pregnant and that later would be better. I ended up taking an appointment on October 8th.
- To help with the natural birth I’m aiming for, my partner has been practicing some massage techniques. I think that given my couch predicament, he’ll be doing some more practicing tomorrow ;).
- This coming weekend, my partner is participating in a miniature train exhibition. Among AFOL LEGO builders like himself, there will be a whole bunch of other exhibits for trains enthusiasts. I’ll be going along with Charles so that he can get his fill of trains (and, at the same time, I’ll be there to support my partner in one of his passions – LEGO MOCing).
- Everyone around me is betting that Peanut is going to come early. I think that given that both myself and the dada are stubborn as heck, the little peanut will decide to extend his/her stay just to contradict everyone. My thoughts: s/he’ll come out when ready.
- It was finally warm enough yesterday to warrant going in our pool! Woohoo! I think I’ve only been in it about 5 or 6 times since the start of summer so far.
- Our few pool visits were enough to get Charles accustomed to the water once again though so I expect that the transition to the swimming lessons we’ll be continuing with him in September will be rather smooth.
- Speaking of the little guy, he’s definitely entering the wonderful world of the teenaged-toddler. It’s both a pleasure and a pain in the butt to see him asserting himself.
- A little late in the day for a TTT, but hey, better late than never, right?
- By next Monday, we’ll be in June. Can you believe it !?! The school year has zipped by.
- We’ve been looking at paint colors for Little Dude’s big boy room. The bottom half of the room is going to be green and the top half blue. The colors are going to be separated by a road decal and we’ll be adding some car and truck decals on the road. We’ve already decided on the green that we’d use, but are now hesitating between three blues: Rushing Stream, Yucatan and Perfect Sky.
- The little guy has been getting his game on and has been experimenting with yelling, crying and pouting when he doesn’t get what he wants. It never lasts very long though. I’m hoping it’s because he understands that yelling, crying and pouting won’t get him any closer to what he wants.
- I don’t know if I have bad memory, but I can’t remember Charles ever moving as much as Peanut when I was pregnant with him. Seriously, I am rudely awoken nightly with well-placed kicks to my bladder and then kept awake by a seemingly hyperactive baby.
- Since I’m aiming for a med-free birth this time ’round, I have started to work on a birth plan. I found an awesome resource here and am happy with what I’ve got down on paper so far. I like how the author of the post, a L&D nurse points out that a birth plan needs to be flexible because, well, labour and delivery is unpredictable and we shouldn’t feel as though we’ve failed at birth because things don’t go as planned. Valerie put a great post on the subject earlier this week.
- While working in the garden last weekend, my partner found a couple of grub worms. I fed one to each of my geckos. They were very happy for the treat!
- In a contrast to the nice weather we’ve been having for a couple of weeks, it was really chilly outside today. Brrr… But I won’t complain, the sun and heat is supposed to come back by Thursday.
- I just realized that I’m off next Monday. I think I will try to get an appointment for a massage.
- Tomorrow morning, I’m heading to Charles’ 18 month checkup. I’m curious to see how much he weighs now!
My wonderful son has recently decided to explore the wonderful world of tantrums. You see, he is somehow under the impression that if he screams at the top of his lungs, cries as hard as he can, throws kicks, hits and goes in the corner of the room to pout, he’ll get what he wants.
I suppose that part of it is my fault. I mean, when he first started his pouting spells (seriously, he crosses his arms and stomps his way to a corner somewhere), I couldn’t help but chuckle. In fact, his dramatic demeanor still makes me smirk when he gets angry with his father or I.
Then, last week, I broke a whole lot of rules with regards to eating. I mean, he got sick (ran a fever for the first time an all) and refused (categorically refused) to eat or drink anything for a little over 24 hours. It was no fun. He was miserable. I was miserable. So, I snuck a fruit platter beside him as I zombified him in front of some Baby Einstein (lo and behold, he ate and drank!). I also allowed him to sit on my lap for a couple of meals so that I could coax some nutriments into his body.
It seems, though, that even though my rule-breaking was short-lived (we’re talking a few meals over the course of two days here), my son decided that it meant that rules were made to be broken.
Of course, perhaps I had nothing to do with it. Perhaps it’s just his inherited double stubbornness (yup, he got the hard-headed gene from both his father and I) that is causing the tantrum. Perhaps, he’s just there developmentally.
In any event, I need to arm myself (both with patience and strategies) because meal-times in particular have become nightmarish.
You see, yesterday morning, the little guy decided to initiate a power struggle with me for breakfast. He wanted to have his breakfast in my arms. I wanted him to have his breakfast sitting at the table. I even got my psychology out and figured that if I gave him some measure of control, he might be cooperative. I gave him the choice between sitting in his high chair and sitting in his booster chair. No dice! I gave him the choice between his favourite soy-based yogurt and toast with a raspberry spread. He would have nothing to do with it.
So I put him in his high-chair, placed his two meal choices in front of him (which he immediately proceeded to push on the table) and calmly ate my own breakfast as he screamed and cried and twisted and turned to try to get out of his chair. This isn’t the first time he’s acted out at mealtime. But it seems to be getting worse. I know that he obviously won’t let himself starve to death and though I love the little guy to death and am ready to compromise to some measure, I am certainly not going to let him have his way at 17 months old.
So, I’m turning to you all. Any ideas as to how I can approach this tantrum-throwing? What has worked for you?