What's For Dinner?

I took a walk Sunday afternoon with my neighbor and returned to this:




My son "dining" on green beans, Arby's roast beef, a chunk of banana and loaded baked potato Pringles- all served on our finest china.

Daddy assured me that there wasn't any Michelob Light in the sippy cup but I dumped it out because after seeing the meal the man prepared I'm not putting anything past him...

What does your baby daddy consider dinner for your kid(s)?

Haiku Baby Hair

Check out this boy's hair!
Sticking straight up, straggly, long
Time for first haircut



Why do I feel so
sad? Another goodbye to
baby days, my last

No chullets here but still time for a first haircut, nonetheless. My neighbor, a stylist, has been recommending it for a few months but I ignored her until this week. The hair? Well, it is getting crazy and just looks badly. *sigh* With The Conqueror being more than likely my last, this is another milestone that I was dreading; another farewell to babyhood. I relished all of these little milestones with my daughter; looked forward to them. Not this time around; although the recent sleeping through the night has been wonderful....

What's In A Name?

My son has upwards of thirty words. (Yes, I am keeping track because I know this is going to be asked at his upcoming well visit.) He says "no," "ball," "kitty cat" and several others. Of course, we think he is a genius and applaud all of his new utterances.

Unfortunately, though, he has one word that he will not say: "daddy."

He said "dada" right on track and it continued until around his first birthday but somewhere along the line, my husband became "Mommy," too. At first, we just laughed and passed it off. My daughter had a thing for a while where she called my husband "Daddymommy" and it passed nearly as quickly as it came.

"Mommy" really seems to be sticking with the boy, though. I am "Mommy" and so is my husband and my daughter. She, of course, loves it and enjoys the special name. When the kid really wants me he says "Momma" and I know he means me. But when he wants his dad: "Mommy!"

It didn't bother my husband until recently. We have had several situations where in public my son shouts "Mommy" and clearly wants my husband or his attention. This embarrassed RxMan. I think it sort of emasculated him and you know how men are about their penises. *sigh*

So, we have begun Operation ReTeach Him To Say Daddy. And so far? It is failing miserably. My husband has tried not responding to him until he says "Daddy" but if he stuck to his guns, the kid would never be held by his dad again. In the past few weeks, I have heard him say something along the lines of "daddy" once and it was at a whisper and I am not absolutely sure that is what he said.

We've tried "daddy", "papa", "father" and "dad" but the kid insists on "MOMMY" and usually in all caps. Yeah. That makes my husband ever so proud and secure in his manhood. I think the boy just has his signals crossed and truly thinks his dad's name is MOMMY, like his sister's and his, well, his other mommy.

So, I come to you, internetz, some of the savviest mommas I know to share ideas on how to whip this little bugger into shape or at least share a laugh at my husband's expense with me. Any ideas on how to get the kid to call a spud a spud?

Haikuing Tantrums

Nearly sixteen months
Temper tantrums have arrived
Loud screaming, crying

Hitting began, too
Seems a switch thrown: bad to worse
What's a mom to do?

Busted: Sneaky Showering

I Want My Drink Back!

When you are a mother of an older child or not a mother at all, you forget to relish the small things. Like a good night's sleep. Or an uninterrupted shower. Or a drink. Now, I am not not talking about alcohol, although that's pretty wonderful, too, I am talking about a glass of water, soda (for MamaGeek I say soda, 'cause she teased me for saying pop) or lemondade.

Yes, I had forgotten that having a little one means you never get to have your own drink again.

My son, now fifteen months, sees me with a glass- even an empty one- and starts saying, "yum, yum, yummies". I can be emptying the freakin' dishwasher and the kid sees a glass in MY hand and thinks he needs to drink out of it.

*sigh*

I know I shouldn't allow him to drink after me- halitosis and germs and stuff- but, seriously, sometimes the fight is all gone in me. If letting him backwash into my water and spit it all over himself gives me a moment without him climbing me or shouting "MOMMA", then backwash away, kid.

It has been months since I have had a glass of water ('cause I do not let the little angel have soda pop 'cause I may be bad but I don't SUCK) outside of my kitchen, usually I'm crouched behind a cupboard or hidden behind the fridge door.

I guess having a drink in peace is another thing I forfeit in order to have this in my life:

Mommy Needs A Nap, Too

My son has become a very random napper. He naps once a day but rarely twice. Sometimes he naps in the morning for 2-3 hours. Others, he waits and naps late morning into the early afternoon. I am not particularly pleased, of course, with him being down to only napping once a day at fifteen months (this began around 13 months) but I can handle it.

Until Sunday.

He napped early on Sunday, from 8-10AM. I was pretty thrilled with this because a nap that early often means two naps! Score!

Well, that's not what happened.

Of course.

He was very pleasant at church but began to tire after lunch. I did all the normal naptime things to encourage a rest but he resisted. I knew it was bad but I can't make him nap, y'know?

Well, by 5PM, we sunk into frantic, exhausted baby mode. He was whining and unhappy and needy. I was frazzled. I was tired. I NEEDED a break.

I shouted at him and scared him half to death when he took the trash bag out of the can in the bathroom and I knew then that he wasn't the only one who needed that nap.

I did, too.

I needed that time to decompress. And eat. And sit on the couch and not worry about taking care of him. I needed time to read the newspaper and check email without a child banging on the keyboard or whining "Momma" the entire time I did it.

By the time my husband arrived home from work, I was spent. I had cried while doing the baby's asthma treatment and just threw my hands in the air and walked away from the carrots that he had thrown all over the floor. I didn't even care that we were all going to walk in them. Really.

This makes me appreciate the fact that when my husband is home, he is very devoted to taking care of our kids (& playing Wii, of course); he feeds them, bathes them, cleans up after them. I really and truly don't think I could function for long periods of time without his help. I don't know how single moms (& dads) do it. I am such a wuss and can hardly deal with the weekends that my husband works, let alone to be by myself 24/7. Single parents are stronger than I.

Whoever said having kids was easy is CRAZY. Certifiably insane. And needs their butts totally kicked.

Haiku Did That Happen?

My boy was fifteen
months yesterday! How is that?
Where'd my baby go?

He walks, runs and shrieks
He climbs and jumps like a champ
I swear he's cursing

A year ago I
wished for him to grow
but not now! Please stop!

Nursing is over
So many milestones
Now he's a toddler )-:

Read more Haiku Friday posts.

Boys Will Be Boys...I Guess.

Well, I did yet another of those parenting things over the weekend that I vowed I would never do. The "Easter Bunny" dropped one of these off with my son's Easter loot.



Yes, not only am I the mom who spoon feeds her kid yogurt in the grocery, I am now also the mother who has so little control over her child that she resorts to leashing him like a dog.

I'm so proud.

Before I had the human baby that is a BOY, I never dreamt that I would ever have to use one of these devices to corral my child. But, this little person? He is completely different than the first one I gave birth to (i.e. a GIRL).

Now, I am completely schooled in the gendered way in which we rear our children. I know that by giving my daughter a pink kitty that I am teaching her stereotypical "girl" behavior. I also know that when my son came out of my womb (c-section), he wasn't like her. He had some exterior parts that she didn't and he was DIFFERENT.

I was forced to put aside all of my pre-conceived parenting notions about raising a child (i.e. a GIRL) and start. completely. over.

He is rougher than she is. He bites for fun. He climbs things she didn't even notice. He is more adventurous and driven. So, perhaps I added to his being a "boy" rather than gender neutral by dressing him in navy clothes emblazoned with trucks and dogs but the kid was just. born. different.

And no scientist, sociologist or anyone else will be able to convince me otherwise.

I may not even use the harness. I have very mixed feelings on it, truthfully. My son, though, sees strollers and wagons that aren't moving at a steady clip as something to climb out of instead of sit in. He is a man on the move who needs to be going at all times.

So, when you see someone who harnesses their child, please don't look at them with one of those looks (you know the look). That person may not just be a crappy parent; she may just be doing what she has to to keep the kid from running in front of a Greyhound.

When Did I Become THAT Mom?

A few weeks ago, before the sickness roosted in my home, I was at the grocery with The Conqueror. That is always a scary experience because the kid is unpredictable. Some days it goes off without a hitch. Others, well, I run cowering from the store clutching my screaming boy.

So, going to the grocery has become Operation Get It Done Quick. My husband typically goes to the store alone because, well, he cooks and I reheat. So...it makes good sense for him to do the shopping. For some reason, though, this day we went together. And took the boy.

So, things were going well. We got cocky. We had been through the entire store (at Mach speed, mind you) and were left only in the cold section (milk, eggs, cheese, etc.). We slowed down. Big mistake, as you probably guessed.

At first, the kid was just whimpering a little as we debated on what brand of butter. As we perused the yogurt section for just a little too long, his whining increased by several decibels. Then he began full out screaming. He wanted out of that cart and NOW!

Well, I may be dumb but I ain't stupid and there was no way that wild child was being let down in the middle of a grocery store because, well, I have to go back there. So, I start offering him anything (ANYTHING!!) to shut him up because I hate, hate, hate being that person in the store with the wailing kid.

What does he want? A yogurt cup. Fine. Phew, crisis averted. Until the little rat gnaws through the foil lid and is trying to drink the yogurt. I take it away.

He screams as if I have just cut one of his digits off.

With a dull knife.

I give him back the yogurt.

He is happy. For a sec.

Then he starts shouting "Yum, yummmy!"

So, what do I do? I dig into my diaper bag and get a spoon. I proceed to stand in the middle of the grocery store and feed my child an unpaid-for Dannon.

I am so THAT mom.

(And, yes, I did pay for the yogurt that he ate.)

Mrs. Whiny Pants

My son has stopped sleeping at night.

I mean, he sleeps but he wants to sleep on me. And nurse on demand.

He's big (23.2 lbs., 30 inches) and makes me ache from holding him in a chair. All. Night. Long.

His pediatrician wanted me to wean a month or so ago but I didn't. Now, kinda wishing that I had 'cause this nursing every hour or two stuff is KILLING me. The nurse told me last week at the well visit that he wouldn't sleep through the night until he was weaned.

So, few readers, I need advice. Got any? Should I wean? I'm not opposed to it just dreading the actual doing it 'cause this boy? Yeah, he loves nursing. How did you get your child(ren) to sleep through the night? Or, is it a lost cause and will eventually happen when he is 6 or so?

Wordless Wednesday: No Worries

Despite the fact it is Wordless Wednesday, I want to thank my readers for their kind and concerned words regarding my post yesterday. I did not mean to cause any alarm but my head was reeling and I needed some time to research and wrap my mind around a few things.

My son has retractile testes, we were told at the doctor visit. This means simply that his testes lie not in his scrotum but in the groin area. I mistook some of the information that the doctor (a wonderful, patient, caring man) gave us and got online with it. That was a mistake. Within minutes, I had diagnosed my son with a more serious form of this condition and envisioned him getting testicular cancer and other horrific things. In short, Toni went overboard and freaked. completely. out. (I am told this is a fairly typical occurrence.)

My wonderful husband tried to calm me. But, being an internet junkie, I couldn't be talked off the ledge until we phoned the doc today and he gave me good, solid AMA advice and then called Nationwide Children's Hospital in Columbus to double check his own action plan. (I told you a great doctor!)

Our plan, approved by the head of Urology at Children's and me, is wait and see. Hopefully, it will resolve itself but, if not, there will be a surgery in the future. The dangers I read about are for a more serious condition where the testes lie in the abdomen and not the groin.

So, from the depths of this drama queen's heart, thank you all for your caring and concern! I puffy heart you all. Big. Time.

Wordless Wednesday: Too Cute For Words

I'm so glad it is Wordless Wednesday because I am feeling rather wordless thanks to a nagging cold....

Num-nums!

Okay, I am too tired to give you a blow by blow (get it? cake, candles?) of my son's first birthday. Unlike New Year's Day, it was a regular, run of the mill first party for a too! cute! (if I do say so myself) baby (toddler? sniff). The boy got to have cake for the first time. I think he liked it, don't you? It was a good day...

Cake

Smash Cake

Flaming! Chocolate! Cake!

Sugar Rush

11 Months

I never imagined that today, the day I mark my son's 11th month on earth, I would be told to stop breastfeeding. When I awoke this morning and showered and went about all of the things which are normal for me, I didn't even consider the fact that his pediatrician would recommend I wean him.

In a lot of ways, the idea of weaning The Conqueror is a relief. I have been his sole source of comfort for the majority of these last eleven months and that, as so many of you know, is exhausting and wears on a person. And, yet...

Breastfeeding did not come easy for us. Baby + Breast = frustration! My milk was slow to come in- glacially slow- and then I had issues of low supply. He latched poorly. It hurt really badly. But, we persevered and, finally, finally!, it worked and then it was the easiest and most natural thing I had ever been a part of.

So, today, at his doctor's visit, RxMan and I were describing the way he has been waking up and screaming with pain in the night and then having really bad gas. After some questions, the doctor said it was likely lactose intolerance. To make a long story short, my milk produces lactose and his little body can't digest it, thus the gas and pain. So, after some more questions, he said that since he nurses so infrequently and for such short times, I should just wean him.

Of course, it is ultimately my decision. I can ignore the doctor's advice if I so choose. I am torn, though, because a part of me would be relieved to be finished with the nursing. I am a little tired of being the only one he wants and of being a human pacifier at 2 AM. On the other hand, though, I really enjoy the closeness that nursing provides, particularly now that he is mobile. It is often the only time he is content to be still.

I have a decision to make and I am torn. I had wanted to end the breastfeeding at my choosing- or his. I guess what I really wanted was to keep him little forever but that can't happen, I know. I don't know what I will do. I want him to sleep- desperately- and I want him to feel better. Weaning will/would occur sooner than later at this point anyway but, still... I don't know if I am ready to close the chapter on this episode of my little guy's babyhood.

What I do know: the little monster is walking! And I mean walking as in without holding on to anything! It is so cute- Her Highness says he looks like Frankenstein because of his arms held out in front for balance. Plus, he got his eighth tooth! And, he weighs 22lbs. 6 oz. and is 29 in. long. My little guy is perfectly healthy and wonderful in every way.... and growing up each day. sigh.

Windex...Yum!

To my kids, Windex is like crack. They can't get enough of it. Her Highness has outgrown her addiction but The Conqueror is reveling in his. He loves, loves, loves licking windows and all glass surfaces to taste the squeaky goodness that is Windex.

We spent this afternoon with my parents at their home and my son was allowed to sit on the dining room table, which is incidentally covered with glass. (See where this is going?) Well, he soon figured out that it had recently been cleaned and leaned over and licked the surface. He then begins crawling across the table but I grabbed his leg and pulled him back. As he was pulled across the slick glass, he left a slobbery trail the size of his ten month old tongue in his wake. Classy, huh?

The good news for me is I don't clean. So, our surfaces are rarely freshly Windexed so I don't have to worry about the little fiend getting his tongue stuck to a window like the kid on A Christmas Story did to the flagpole.

Ten Months Old!

Today, my boy, The Conqueror is ten months old!

In some ways it seems like he has been a part of my life forever. He has melded into the fabric of this little family so well that it is hard to even imagine our lives before him. For months, I would still forget, for just the eensiest second, that we even had him. Like when signing a card, I would automatically sign RxMan, Toni and Her Highness. I didn't even stop to consider writing his name, too.

Now, though, he has managed to stake his part in the family. He is the earliest of the early risers. The boy rarely, if ever, sleeps past 5:30am. RxMan and I used to bemoan Her Highness's waking at 6:45 on non-school days. Now, 6:45 seems like heaven. He is loud, too, and difficult to ignore (much like his father). He worships his sister and has begun to say something that sounds a lot like her name when she enters or leaves a room.

The kid is a waving fool. He loves, loves, loves to wave. A special greeting is the two handed wave which is reserved for only the most special of people (ME!). He pulls himself up and is trolling around furniture and walls and walking with his walk behind. He eats well and loves his veggies. He has six teeth, as of bedtime. He bites. Hard.

Everyday I am amazed at what he is picking up; he is truly a sponge. I am also amazed at the way in which he interacts with my daughter. That is truly one of the greatest joys of having him; seeing Her Highness be a big sister. She was destined for the role and the mutual affection is immeasurable. Seeing them together makes me feel like all of the difficult days (nights!) are worth it.

So, I am feeling a little weepy today. I would hit pause on the remote control of life if possible and keep him at this age. He is still a baby but I watch the baby ease more into the body of a toddler each day as he acquires new skills and grows. He doesn't want to be held for snuggling much any more; those days have passed. But, he has begun to do something that is a pseudo-kiss where he opens his mouth wide and lays it on your cheek and if you move at the right time, you don't get bitten. He also has started laying his head on you and saying, "ahhhh." We have decided this is giving "lovies".

It is always a give and take in parenting, I know. He learns a new skill and moves slightly more away. It is my job to raise him, I realize, but I had forgotten how painful even these little letting go's can be.

Adventuring: Conqueror Style

Yesterday was a good day in our home despite the fact that The Conqueror woke at 4:45AM. Yes, you read that right. He was up for about 2 hours and then took a morning nap for about 2 1/2 hours. I was able to get a great deal of school stuff done and feel much, much better about my chances of not failing the class that has kept me up at night lately.

He awoke at 9:30 and was mostly pleasant, considering he has red, tender and swollen gums. This time, I know he is teething because one new tooth erupted on Thursday and the other areas are inflamed. He stayed up for about 3 hours and took a marathon (for him) 2 hour afternoon nap during which time I actually did a load of laundry in peace and read a magazine! Can you imagine???

After Her Highness arrived home via school bus, they spent some time basking in sibling love but, soon, friends stole her away from her biggest admirer. When she left, he was playing nicely in our mud room with shoes (and, yes, he was probably eating them and dirt but, honestly, he wasn't crying so I didn't mess with him. Pick your battles, I say.). So, I picked up my magazine again.

Shortly, I realized something. It was quiet. Too quiet. I jumped up, calling his name. No response. Immediately, I think he has somehow escaped and is crawling down the road. Impossible. Did he choke to death on dirt? Unlikely.

He did manage, with a little help from a big sis who forgot to close the door, to enter the powder room. Uh. Oh. Still saying his name, I approach with trepidation, fearing he is honey dipping, as my mother would say, or playing in the potty, as I would say. I was relieved to discover he was not. He was, however, feasting on toilet paper. And it. was. everywhere. Mostly, though, it was in his mouth, which explains the silence.

I should have known not to be lulled into complacency. That is what he was waiting for...

Cleopatra and A Firefighter

This afternoon we had trick-or-treat in our neighborhood. We do it on Sunday because the larger ones in the surrounding areas are on October 31st and most people who live in our 'hood are off on Sundays.

It was The Conqueror's first Halloween costume. Sigh. So many firsts lately. He is growing up so quickly! He hated the hat so it was "Quick! Snap the photo before he rips it off!" He was way more into the snacks on the tray of his stroller than the actual trick-or-treating, although he did dig the stroller ride accompanied by nine other kids and four moms.

Her Highness was feeling really beautiful today. Did you notice the make-up? I pulled up a photo of Liz Taylor as Cleopatra and tried to mimic the look. I think I did all right, what do you think? At seven, it is all about being cute and she was feeling it and enjoying the compliments although she was worried about the removal of the eyeliner.

My Husband Will Kill Me For Posting This...

Intrigued?

I have mentioned before that my boy likes breasts. Turns out he doesn't care if said breasts are on males or females.

RxMan gave The Conqueror his bath this evening as he does most evenings when he is off. After the bath, they went through the ritual of lotion, diapering, dressing and a little silliness.

The Conqueror, fussy and ready to sleep, suddenly tried to latch onto his shirtless father. Not surprisingly, RxMan was taken aback a little.

Hey, you can't flash those things around little nursers like that. That'll teach you to go around without a shirt on, Daddy, you big tease.