Pretty Penny.

40 Weeks and 3 Days

2012-01-27T16:28:00.006-07:00

Waiting for this baby to arrive has been the ultimate exercise in patience, and I am going out of my mind. I know I should be grateful for having a full-term baby, and that I really have nothing to complain about. But FORTY WEEKS is a damn long time. I am older, crabbier, and far more uncomfortable this time. I am realizing now how spoiled I was with Penny. Everything was a marvel during my pregnancy with her. She also came 4-5 days before my due date, which I now realize was a mercy.

So naturally, I expected to go early again, forgetting what everyone says, that every pregnancy is different. Mr. Baby's due date has come and gone, although not without some excitement. I have already (mistakenly) thought I was in early labor 3 times. I called into work a week ago because I was having contractions. I started my leave of absence, thinking it could be any minute now...any minute now...maybe now?

Each time I go to the doctor, I find out I have progressed very little, so I leave appointments feeling more disappointed. Every ache, every twinge, every cramp has me bolting upright, wondering if this is it. I am making myself crazy. Everyone wants to know, is he here yet? Is he here yet? I have been stuck on "Gold Mother" by James for DAYS.

But I know I won't be pregnant forever. No one is pregnant forever! This may very well be the last time I'll be pregnant again, ever, so maybe I should relish it while I can?

Nah. I know I'm in a bad mood, but I can't bring myself to romanticize the fatigue and the heartburn and the constant peeing and the Braxton Hicks contractions. But, I've been trying to think about the time — the time we've had as a 3 person family, before everything changes.

This pregnancy has been marked by a couple of surprises, one of which is that my doctor, my beloved physician, obstetrician, and Penny's pediatrician has been out of town for the past three weeks. Suddenly I was confronted with the possibility that she might not be delivering this baby, and I had to find another doctor in the interim. But, she'll be back this weekend, so maybe things will work out after all. It wasn't that long ago that we were driving to the hospital to have Penny, and soon we will be going again. I have a vision of how I want things to go, and as time passes, the more I worry that it isn't going to go the way I want...

Meanwhile, this might be the last chance I get to write something for a little while, so I wanted to take the time to say, for Penny's sake, how awesome she is. She can do 42 piece puzzles by herself. She likes to act out scenes from her favorite stories (like when Clara's Godfather fixes her broken Nutcracker, or when Lisa buys Corduroy at the department store), and she takes books with her to bed. Her sense of humor is constantly developing and surprising. Having a baby will help me appreciate the myriad things Penny can do by herself, like getting her own yogurt out of the fridge and a spoon out of the drawer. Like climbing up onto her stool for dinner and telling us about her day at preschool. I fully expect some "regression" in behavior once baby brother arrives. How can there not be some jealousy and resentment?

Our world is about to be all topsy-turvy, so I may kick myself in a couple of days for being so impatient. For now, I'm trying to stay upbeat. Mr. Baby will come. He will. We are ready for him and we can hardly wait.

The Nutcracker

2011-12-27T22:24:00.009-07:00

When I was growing up, one of our Christmastime traditions was to get out the Tchaikovsky record and dance around the house to The Nutcracker Suite. The needle on our record player would skip any time we jumped on the floor, so you can imagine the scratches this record accumulated after repeated exposure to our synchronized "Russian Dance" jumps. PBS used to broadcast the Baryshnikov version on Christmas Eve, and my sisters and I watched it (while dancing) every year. Then one year, my dad took me to see a production of The Nutcracker while we were living in Wisconsin. I don’t know if it was a professional company — it may have been a performance at a community college, for all I know. But we had to drive a long distance in our VW van to get there. I remember sitting close enough to the stage to see the dancers’ shoes and I remember how vivid the costumes were for the Waltz of the Flowers. I thought it was one of the most amazing things I'd ever seen. Needless to say, I have a strong connection to The Nutcracker.

Years later, I learned that my dad had pawned most of his coin collection in order to take me. I was shocked about this revelation and it still induces many emotional responses: We were really that poor? He was willing to pawn something he spent years collecting? For me?

So this year, to jump-start that crazy build up to Christmas, I showed it to Penny. I checked out my old favorite from the library — the Baryshnikov version, which is the One True Version, and brought it home. And she was enthralled. That was the ultimate litmus test; I decided that if she could sit through it at home, then maybe she was ready to see the real thing. The story has everything — action, adventure, whimsy. A mysterious godfather, wind-up life-sized toys! A mouse king! The Nutcracker turns into a prince! And Clara saves him!

Ballet West does an annual production of The Nutcracker and I wanted desperately to go. But the website said that the recommended age was 6 years old and I was worried that taking Penny might be a bad idea. What if she freaked out? What if she wouldn't stay in her seat? What if she shouted through the whole thing: “MAMA! IS THAT CLARA? MAMA! IS THAT THE MOUSE KING?” What if we got kicked out?

But we took a gamble and went for it anyway. I splurged on tickets and bought one for Grandma too. In the days leading up to the show, I reviewed the rules of the theater with Penny: You have to stay in your seat. You can’t talk, you can only whisper. I felt like I was being harsh, but I wanted the rules to be well established. And it worked. Penny was marvelous even though she didn't feel that well the night of the performance.

Capitol Theatre is gorgeous. The seats are covered in dark red velvet. There's an an enormous chandelier and the ceiling is decorated in gold leaf detail. And Ballet West's production was truly amazing. The costumes were brilliant, the music was phenomenal. I was overwhelmed by the sheer beauty of it all and had an unexpected emotional experience. My eyes watered multiple times, especially during the Waltz of the Snowflakes. As I sat holding Penny's hand under the gilded ceiling, I thought about my dad, and of the things we did together as a family to expand our minds. He taught us that stuff is just stuff; that doing things together is what's important.

Naturally, this Christmas was rather Nutcracker-themed. We bought Penny her own copy of Baryshnikov's Nutcracker, so I can stop racking up late fees at the library. I found an excellent collection of paper dolls that you can punch out and put on stage to reenact the story. And one of our friends gave Penny a cupcake set with Nutcracker liners and cupcake toppers. We had so much fun this Christmas. I can't wait for next year, so we can go again and establish another tradition.

Three and One Half

2011-11-07T22:57:00.007-07:00

Dear Penny,

Well, hello there, my little 3.5 year old friend. We've certainly seen some ups and downs these past three months. I want to focus on the ups, but I have to tell you a couple of things. I think you are worried about the future. I want you to know that I worry about the future too. But there are some things you can't control, and as you get older, you realize that you can't control them, and they get easier to deal with. But for now, you aren't too sure about this older sister business coming to a household near you. You have a short fuse and an angry streak lately. We've had time outs within time outs! I'm not sure where your rage comes from, although it subsides just as quickly as it comes on. Recently, you threw a colossally mortifying fit and in the icy silence that followed, you said, calmly, "I don't want to be a big sister. I want the baby to be the big sister. I want to be the baby."

Oh, honey. Maybe we've been talking up the Big Sister thing too much. Maybe you're worried about what life will be like once there's a new baby in the house. Hell, I'm worried about what life will be like in another two months. But I need you to be my big girl. I know you can do it.

When I came to pick you up from Grandma and Grandpa's after my ultrasound appointment, you were still asleep. When you woke up, you came downstairs all groggy and crabby. I said, "Penny, you're going to have a little brother!" And you burst into tears. You wailed, "Nooooo! I want a sister!" And then I started to cry. I cried because I was hormonal and tired and the ultrasound was stressful for me this time around. And I cried because I felt like I had let you down. I have always imagined that I would have a couple of little girls who were the very best of friends. I never seriously believed I would have a boy because there are only girls on my side of the family. I have no idea what having a brother is like. For all I know, boys really do have cooties, and they're smelly and messy and gross. (Someday, your brother is going to read this and say, "Thanks a lot, you guys.")

But then do you know what happened? I showed you the ultrasound pictures of your baby brother, and you were awestruck. You couldn't put them down. You started giggling. And then I cried out of relief. Now, you tell everyone you're going to have a baby brother. Every day you tell me you're going to play with him and read to him and show him Baby Signing Time and help give him bottles. You are so excited. You've also been saying you have a baby in your belly and you tell me when he's kicking.

Do you know what else? You are going to teach your brother so many things. You know which foot is your right foot and which is your left. You listen so well to your teacher at school and to your teacher at dance, I could burst with pride. You have an amazing imagination — you have at least five different imaginary friends and you create your own adventures with them. One of them is "The Little Black Ghost," who might be like a soot sprite from My Neighbor Totoro? Anyway, he follows you around and goes "Thump!" and gets on your nerves sometimes.

My favorite thing to do in the morning is to hold you on my lap while you're still sleepy and cuddle you and smell your hair. Sometimes I'm nearly late for work because I can't break away. I love you more than anything. There will still be room for you on my lap when your brother comes. There will be room in my heart for both of you. You will always by my girl, my daughter, my firstborn. You will always be my baby.

Love,

Mom.

Halloween 2011: The Owl

2011-10-30T23:07:00.007-06:00

I'm not sure what chemicals we were on when we decided to make Penny's Halloween costume this year. Haven't I complained enough about how busy and out of control my life is? In truth, I'm not sure I would have tackled this project if Britt hadn't been so certain we could pull it off. But he said he could make it, and I said, "You can?" Why do I keep forgetting that I married such a multi-faceted man?

Back in the day, my mom made our costumes every year, and we still talk about those costumes with utter reverence. The same goes for the birthday cakes she made. The woman was amazing, but I've never really felt pressure to be like her in that way. I admire people who make their own brilliant and creative costumes, but up until now, that hasn't really been my style. I want to make things, but the lack of time and energy always interferes.

At the beginning of September, Penny declared she wanted to be a witch for Halloween, and I thought, "Yes!" because that's an easy costume to find — there are a plethora of witch costumes out there. But a couple of weeks later, she told me she wanted to be an owl. I'm not sure where that idea came from, but I kept asking her if she wanted to be a witch or an owl, and she was resolute in her owl decision. So I started looking online for costumes and ideas (and friends and family sent me links too), which yielded this and this and this. There were no aesthetically pleasing, ready made in-store owl costumes to be found. The Alphamom version was by far the most appealing to me, hence the decision to tackle it ourselves.

I wanted a mask with real feathers, and I felt that the costume needed some wings. So, I went to Michael's in search of feathers, a mask, and glue, and I went to JoAnn's for some fabric. I went with inexpensive fabric with patterns that I liked, although the old t-shirt idea from Alphamom is a good idea too. Then I found a black turtleneck and leggings in Penny's size (actually, I bought a size up, in case she wants to be an owl for a while).

I'll glue, you sew.

I used the template for the fabric feathers from the Alphamom link, enlarged it a wee bit, and printed it out. I spent a weekend cutting out fabric and gluing feathers onto the mask. One of the cats got the first version of the mask while we were out one day, because I stupidly didn't think to hide it. So, another weekend was spent fixing the cat-mangled mask. Meanwhile, Britt borrowed his mom's 1970s Singer sewing machine, and after swearing a bit, got it fired up and ready to go. He sewed the fabric feathers in rows and came up with the wings for the sleeves. He is THE MAN. I can't believe he remembers what he learned in Home Economics all those years ago. I certainly don't! What I remember is that I hate sewing!

Don't mess with a Teamster who can sew.

The last thing I had to do was make eyes out of crepe paper and tie the mask with elasticized string so it would fit on Penny's head. She wasn't too keen on wearing the mask at first, but caught the vision at her school's Trunk or Treat event.

My greatest fear while we labored on it was that no one would be able to tell what she was. In some ways, the costume looks like a raggedy Carmen Miranda ensemble. The mask has feathers and eyes, but otherwise isn't overly owl-like. But then a friend wisely pointed out that none of that was going to matter to Penny, because SHE would know that she's an owl. Thanks, Anabel. You're so right.

Apparently, people decorate their trunks for Trunk or Treat. Oops. We didn't have any creative energy left.

Of COURSE she's an owl! Penny adores her costume, and we've already gotten some mileage out of it. She wore it to dance class Tuesday, then to Trunk or Treat on Friday, and tomorrow her preschool is having a Halloween party, not to mention the Trick or Treating we'll be doing in our neighborhood. And it's a fitting outfit for her dress-up collection, which will accrue items as we take on projects like this from year to year.

I'm proud of our handiwork. We totally channeled my mom. And it was another reminder that Britt and I make a good team, that we can be crafty and creative together, and that we can divide and conquer. And the best part is, when people ask Penny if her mom made her costume, she says, "My mom AND dad made it." Huzzah!

Happy Halloween!

Still Here

2011-09-28T21:56:00.009-06:00

Hi, we're still here. We've had a lot going on. Here's a recap of the last month or so:

1. Penny is getting a BROTHER sometime around January 25th.
2. I survived neuroanatomy. Next up is 8 weeks of vestibular pathologies. Goodie.
3. Penny started preschool this month - more on that below.
4. Penny's grandparents have been in Italy for the last 3 weeks and will be gone for another 2 weeks. So there has been some upheaval in Penny's life and in her routine, combined with the general anxiety that comes with starting school and being three.

Penny's school is everything I had hoped. There is art hanging on almost every wall of the room. There is lots of time to play, inside and outside. They get to go on oodles of field trips, which are mostly nature walks and the like. Her teacher is awesome, and Penny's adjusted pretty well to classroom life — class rules, circle time, snack time, etc. But we had a rocky start. The first two weeks, Penny would wake up and announce that she didn't want to go to school, and Britt and I had to bust out the pep talks to get her mentally prepared to go. And there were a couple of mornings where she wet her bed (!!), which had not been an issue before.

I haven't been able to have much involvement in Penny's life at school. My work schedule is the same days as Penny's class schedule, plus grandma and grandpa have gone abroad. So our dear friends, to whom we will forever be indebted, have been helping with carpooling (their daughter and Penny are in the same class) and then Penny plays at their house after school, until I can come and pick her up. The poor kid has had to adjust to everything at once and I've had to stop myself (a couple of times) from regretting my new job.

But things are getting better. The first week, I was getting reports of outbursts about having to share toys, and any other number of slings and arrows related to interacting with other children. You may recall that Penny's "outbursts" take the form of Screaming Banshee Fits, which sound like she's been mortally wounded. So the first thing Penny learned at school was to "use her words." After her first day, she came home and told me, "Mama, tomorrow I will know my words."

Her teacher told me that she's fine and has been doing a lot better. I finally had the chance to volunteer in her class today (which is a requirement of the school, and a good thing), and it was fun to see how the class works. Penny was a little more clingy since I was there, but I was amazed to see her let loose on the playground. She climbs on all of the equipment and goes down the big slides, laughing all the way. She can do the fire pole (!!) and loves the tire swing. I was standing there thinking, "Who is this kid?" when a couple of the other moms came up to me and told me how sweet Penny is. And I said, "Really?"

Is it bad that I was surprised to hear that she can be sweet? I know she is. She's actually very thoughtful and articulate. But here's the thing: the screaming issue has improved at school, but it has not improved at home. I feel like I bear the brunt of her ire. She's fine until I pick her up, and then suddenly, she's whining and helpless and the littlest things send her into a giant screaming spiral. And our friends have to endure it too, although they assure me that she's fine until I show up. So what is this about?

I'm telling myself it relates to the upheaval. She's going to be a big sister. She misses her grandparents. A lot of her time has been spent away from home and away from me. I think it will get better. It has to.

Meanwhile, Penny's class is going on a field trip to the mountains tomorrow, to look for leaves changing colors. I wish I could go. But she'll have a good time and it will be another day of adventure, another day of using her words and making new friends. Another reason to be excited about school.

39 Months Old

2011-08-09T22:03:00.005-06:00

Dear Penny,

You're 39 months old? Get out! I think you are also a smarty-pants. That's a good thing. Last summer, we told you that the annoying truck that drives around the neighborhood blasting music at unsafe levels was a "music truck," and whenever you'd hear it, you'd say, "There goes the music truck!" Well, yesterday, you saw it drive by while you were standing at the door and you could see the pictures of ice cream on the side. You exclaimed, "Hey! The 'music truck' is an ice cream truck!" There goes that illusion. I'm sorry we deceived you, but I can't support something that plays music (sometimes Christmas music, in the summer!) that loud through the neighborhood. Also, we have ice cream in the freezer.

You've picked up some of the expressions we say, much to my chagrin. The other day you informed me that you didn't want to wait to have a snack at home because "Our snacks at home are crappy!" When dad was teasing you the other night, you said, "You're killing me!" which is something he says. You say, "All. Right. FINE." And "Don't freak out." You have the attitude of a teenager, but at least you use these expressions in the appropriate context. I can't wait to hear what you pick up at school.

The bedtime ritual has gotten insanely long and drawn out. July was tough because in Utah, there are two holidays that involve excessive amounts of fireworks. The 4th, which the rest of the country celebrates, and the 24th, which signifies when the pioneers first came to the Salt Lake Valley. Anyway, this year, our state legislators (in their infinite wisdom) decided to pass a law allowing fireworks to be available for the whole month of July. So for many nights, the sounds of fireworks in the neighborhood kept you awake until 11:00 at night. So these days the ritual goes something like this: put on pajamas, brush your teeth, read a story, get a drink of water "from the fridgerator," get hugs from mommy, get hugs from daddy, turn out the lights, get another drink of water, ask to go potty, go potty, get back in bed, tell stories with daddy, and then another drink of water, or whatever other stalling tactic you can think of. I get a little exasperated because this all takes a while. But the stories you and Daddy make up are outrageously funny. Yours always start out like this: "Once about a time..." And Dad's stories make you giggle. I think this part of the bedtime ritual can stay.

You use the potty! I can't tell you how delighted we are. I'm sorry I complained about it so much, but I didn't think it would ever happen. You are a little gymnast! You are very skilled at balancing on the different balance beams. You try so hard in class and it makes me very proud. We are still working on not yelling and not having meltdowns about the little things. I'm not going to give up, because I think it might just be part of being three.

You are going to be a big sister! Yep. This has been a major development these past months. You came with me to the doctor and we heard the heartbeat of your little brother or sister. Sometimes you say you want a brother, and sometimes you say you'd like a sister. We won't know either way for a couple of weeks. But I want to tell you what a wonderfully, incredibly important thing it is to be a big sister. It's something your mom and dad decided we want you to experience. Our lives are going to change, again. And this time, you get to help us.

You and Daddy have been spending a lot of time together because I've been so busy and so tired. I went back school in June, so I've had homework and other obligations that interfere with some of our quality time together. I'm sorry about that too. You've handled it pretty well so far, and your dad has been helping a lot. I can't wait to be done, even though I just started. You have been a surprisingly good sport about all of this.

Even though you will be starting school next month, you will always be my baby. Even though you can put on some of your clothes by yourself and use the potty, you will always be my baby. Even though you're going to be a big sister, you will always be my baby. You will always be my baby.

Love,

Mom.

Our Little Gymnast

2011-07-26T16:34:00.012-06:00

Since Penny doesn't have dance during the summer, I thought it might be fun to try gymnastics as a summer activity. I promise I'm not going all Tiger Mom on her. One of Penny's friends has been taking gymnastics for a while and she loves it, so I thought, why not find a way to stay active during the summer that doesn't involve fighting for space in the gross public pool?

We quickly discovered that the kids in the 3-5 year old class are expected to participate on their own with no parents present. The parents are banished to the foyer and watch the class through the glass windows. This was going to take some getting used to, because Penny takes a while to warm up to new people and new situations, and I would rather have her participate and have fun than refuse to do anything and waste everyone's time (and our money). Another discovery we made is that the teacher is not particularly warm and fuzzy, which is just her personality, although it doesn't make much sense to me, if your profession is teaching small children complicated skills. So let's just say that the first couple of classes were nothing short of disastrous. Penny refused to do anything unless I was in the room with her, helping her. She freaked out the first time the teacher touched her to assist with a maneuver, and had a complete meltdown when the teacher told her not to go in a certain direction and that she had to stay on the mats.

This is so much fun for everyone! After these classes, I really debated whether or not to keep going. Part of me thought, Hey, this is supposed to be a fun, positive experience, not a negative, stressful one. The teacher is kind of strict — It's not like this is Romania — I don't expect Penny to be a gold medalist or anything. I just want her to gain confidence and coordination. So I decided that quitting would send Penny the wrong message — when things are hard, just quit! When you have personality clashes with teachers, just walk away! No.

So, before the fourth class, we had a little chat. I said, it's the teacher's class, and you have to follow her rules. When she tells you what to do, you're not in trouble, you just have to do what she says. Followed by, "One of the rules is that the parents are supposed to watch from outside the class." To which Penny said, "Ok, Mama." And then she rehearsed this dialogue to herself as we drove to class. When we got there, she wouldn't go in the room without me, so I said, "I will go in with you, but you need to do everything yourself." And she did. And then, for the second part of class, I watched from the outside and she sweetly waved to me from the inside.

And do you know what? She CAN DO IT. She tried all the moves and let the teacher help her do somersaults. She rocks the balance beam! I watched her little face light up each time she did a dismount. And then I felt so ambivalent. I want her to do everything independently. But at the same time, it feels like the beginning of my obsolescence. I know that's really melodramatic. Of course she's always going to need me, but not for everything anymore. And that makes me proud and sad and happy all at the same time. I'm going to lose it when she starts school.

P.S. We are definitely doing gymnastics again next summer. And the teacher is really growing on me. I totally get why parents are supposed to stay out of the way; the kids do better without us.

Penny and the Seal

2011-07-25T14:07:00.004-06:00

There's a harbor seal at the Oregon Coast Aquarium. She swims back and forth, all day long. I don't know if she's content living in captivity. But she looks like she's smiling.

Vacation, Had to Get Away

2011-07-24T23:50:00.015-06:00

I can't believe the month of July almost escaped without a post. I have some pretty good excuses, though. One of them is that we went on vacation for two weeks at the end of June. When we got home, we had the post-vacation insanity of catching up on everything that went to hell while we were gone, like work and school (did I mention I'm back in school?). Oh, and I got horrendously sick during the last leg of the trip and needed a couple of days to recover. But the important thing is, we had an honest-to-god vacation, just the three of us.

Part One of our trip started out with Britt's family at a place called Six Lakes in Eastern Utah. We had never been there before, so we weren't sure what to expect. The high desert of Utah has a certain beauty - the cacti were pink and yellow and in full bloom. The sky was clear and blue. Lizards and rabbits were everywhere. Everything smelled like sage and juniper. We had bunk houses right on our own lake, so Penny got to have her first rowboat experience. Going out on the lake was a nice way to cool off, because it was hot out there. Six Lakes also has the distinction of being where Penny overcame her fear of pooping in the potty. I didn't think she would go for using strange toilets in strange locations, but she didn't have a single accident. Subsequently I showered her with candy.

Our bunkhouse.

Part Two of our trip was an adventure to the Oregon Coast. We went from the dry desert to the damp coast and saw a refreshing drop in temperature. It was wonderful. We rented a little beach house at Seal Rock and spent four days poking around tidepools, exploring different beaches, and checking out the aquarium. I hadn't been to Oregon in about 30 years. Britt visited the coast many times while he was growing up, so it was fun for both of us to relive some childhood memories and remind ourselves that there is still an ocean out there.

The view from the beach house.

Other notable successes during the trip:
1. Penny took off her shoes on the beach. It took a couple of days for her to warm up to the idea, but she finally got brave enough to try. And then she didn't want to put them back on.

Really getting into it.

2. Penny touched starfish. Last time we were in California, she was unwilling to touch the starfish in the exhibit at the Birch Aquarium. But this time, Britt found a little red one that was too cute to resist. After that, she touched as many as she could find.

3. We had a 15 hour drive to Oregon (twice - there and back), and Penny didn't have any accidents. And she was a pretty good sport, considering we were all sick of the car by the time vacation was over. Next time though, we're going to fly. That drive was ridiculous.

(There are more pictures on Flickr).

Things I have learned about my three year old (so far).

2011-06-13T22:29:00.008-06:00

(She is almost as tall as our irises.)

1. The two year-old style "fits" have decreased, but the yelling in my face has increased. Now we have a "no yelling in my face" rule, which I never imagined I would have to create.

2. She is still extremely cautious, and embraces self-preservation. After we converted Penny's crib to a toddler bed, it took her a week to figure out that she could get out of it on her own. In the morning, if she wakes up before we do (e.g. weekends), she will call for me, and I will call back (from bed), "Come here." And then I can hear the tiniest creak of the floorboards, followed by the sound of her little feet on the floor, pum, pum, pum, pum, PUM! And then she's at my side of the bed, smiling in my sleepy, disheveled face.

3. She has a bladder of steel. We are deep in the throes of potty training, for real this time. Pull-ups have been banished and are only for sleeping. Underwear is in full effect. Accidents have been minimal, except that she hides in her closet to poop. In her underwear. Sigh. Anyway, the first couple of days she only peed a couple of times, so either she can hold it for a long time, or her bladder is incredibly strong, or using the potty is just that horrible.

4. Someday she will read this and be totally mortified by item #3. But I really couldn't be prouder. She even used the potty at Grandma's house today, which is a giant step. We are finally getting somewhere.

5. She adores her family. When I tell her that her Aunt M and Uncle P are coming over for dinner, she claps her hands and shouts, "They're part of my family!"

6. She is on our schedule; therefore we have created a monster. Britt and I stay up pretty late, (although it seems to be getting harder with age), and now so does Penny. We TRY to start the bedtime ritual by 8:30, but she's the queen of stalling. Even if we get her in bed by 9:00, she talks and sings to herself and carries on for an hour afterwards. Then I have to wake her up on the mornings I go to work, and it's not pleasant.

When Penny was two, I heard over and over that three is worse than two. I think we're doing ok. Some things have certainly improved, and others have sort of evolved, or devolved, for better or for worse. I could do without the yelling, but I appreciate the energetic attempt at communication. The bedtime routine could be faster, but at least she doesn't get out of her bed! So I'll just count my blessings, then.

Penny's Third Year, in 5 Minutes

2011-05-30T12:26:00.005-06:00

Here's a little tradition I hope I can continue to do, although it is time consuming. But I'm always glad to do it, because it gives me a chance to go through all of the photos from the year. I'm always surprised by how much we cram into 12 months, and how quickly the time goes.

Song Credits:
"This Will Be Our Year" by OK Go
"Big Jumps" by Emiliana Torrini

Then I go back and watch the videos I made before, and there's my girl, in baby form! It was so clear and real back then, and now it seems distant and foggy. So I guess I'd better keep this up, so I won't forget.

Three Years Old

2011-05-06T00:07:00.005-06:00

May 6, 2011

Dear Penny,

Today you are three years old. THREE. Three years ago, your dad and I were in the hospital, holding our brand new baby girl, overjoyed with love and rapture and disbelief. It was, without a doubt, the happiest day of my life. (And that includes my 7th birthday, which is the year I got a brand new bicycle for my birthday, the "Desert Rose.") We stared at you for hours; awestruck by your tiny fingers and toes. We grinned when you yawned and stretched, we marveled at every bit of you.

You are still a marvel. You are getting taller, and your hair reminds me of a jar of honey sitting in the sunlight. Your laugh is contagious. You are, how can I say this? Dramatic. Everything is an emergency, so you can come off as a little bossy from time to time, truth be told. But you are working on asking for things nicely and not shouting at people, and understanding when things are not as big of a deal as you might think.

You are also getting better at using words to explain why you don't like certain things ("I frustrated!") and you can tell me when you are worried about something. You really are sweet and sensitive. Sometimes I forget that someone so young can have such complicated emotions.

You love dancing and playing and drawing and painting. You have a knack for art, which fills my heart with pride. You also have quite the imagination. The other day you told me you were going to the jungle and you were taking food for all of the animals. You have long, in-depth conversations with yourself and your toys and you really like it when we join in and play with you.

Last summer, you were digging in the yard and finding worms in the garden with your dad. So far this spring, you are not a fan of bugs at all, but I hope this is just a phase. Sometimes you freeze in place on the sidewalk and just scream in panic. Ants aren't going to hurt you, silly!

This coming year will bring a lot of new things. We found a preschool we really like—It's hard to believe you will be going to school soon. I am excited for you to make more friends, to learn new things, and to learn how to interact with adults who aren't your parents or your grandparents.

We have been talking about changing your bed to a "big girl bed." I think you are excited about this prospect, but you are also apprehensive. After all, big girls go to school and use the potty. There's a lot to take on, and I'm sure it seems daunting. But we are here with you, and we're all in this together. You are a big girl, Penny, but you will always be my baby. Happy Birthday.

Love,
Mom

When Things Happen in Threes

2011-04-24T22:59:00.010-06:00

Forgive me if this post goes into too much detail, but I would be remiss if I didn't try to explain the recent chaos in my life and describe what was one of the worst weeks we've had in a long time.

In the midst of changing jobs, I had been wrapping things up with the old job so I could start the new one, which included one last trip out to the boonies. When I returned, I discovered one of my tires had a flat. Fortunately it happened overnight in the parking stall, so at least it didn't blow out while I was driving on the road. I even managed to get the lug nuts off the tire and the car on the jack by the time Britt arrived to help me get the spare on. We shall call the flat tire Rupture Number One.

That weekend, Penny developed a fever and said her ear hurt. She was very specific about which ear was bothering her; it was her right ear, not her left. She didn't have a runny nose or a cough, but I'd had a sore throat for a couple of days, so I figured she was coming down with another cold. I alternated Tylenol and Ibuprofen for her fever and pain, and hoped she'd be better in a couple of days. Note: Ear infections usually resolve on their own, it was the weekend and my doctor wasn't in, and she seemed ok otherwise.

That Tuesday morning, I woke up because of a stabbing pain in my uterus. It was blinding, constant pain—not cramps, which come on and dissipate; this was like nothing I'd experienced before. I couldn't stand up. I started sweating profusely and I felt like throwing up. As I was lying on the nice, cool floor, I calculated where I was in my cycle and concluded there was no way I was pregnant. Penny brought me a blanket and covered me up while I sent Britt a desperate text. He came home as soon as he could and took us both to our doctor. Penny's fever had spiked and she was still complaining of ear pain, so we thought, let's take this party to the waiting room!

The theory is that I had an ovarian cyst rupture; which would be Rupture Number Two. Apparently this happens to women, although this was a new experience for me. It hurts like hell when it happens, and then you're ok. And I was ok, after a couple of hours. Ladies, has this happened to you? How come no one talks about it? Meanwhile, Penny definitely had an ear infection in her right ear and we started her on antibiotics. We also stopped at McDonald's on the way home and Penny and I both got Happy Meals, even though they don't contain any real food. It just sounded good.

Wednesday night, Penny had been asleep for a couple of hours, then woke up crying. I comforted her for a bit, and noticed her hair seemed damp, as if she'd been sweating. She said her throat hurt. I gave her some water and held her for a while, and then she went back to sleep. The next morning, Britt said, "Um, her ear is draining. A lot."

Which brings us to Rupture Number Three.

*We interrupt this post to explain how the middle ear system works:*
Our eustachian tubes help equalize the pressure in our ears. Children have smaller heads, so their eustachian tubes are shorter and more horizontal, so when kids get sick with colds and congestion, the tissues surrounding the eustachian tube swell up, and basically pinch it off. This creates a nice little vacuum in the middle ear space behind the eardrum. The resulting pressure draws fluid out of the membranes in the middle ear, which accumulates behind the eardrum. This fluid is a nice breeding ground for bacteria, so the fluid can become infected when bacteria gets in there and multiplies. In severe cases, the eardrum can rupture because of the build up of infected fluid behind it.

Penny's rendition of a bear with "yucky" ears. :(

So, that dampness I thought was sweat was actually infected middle ear fluid from Penny's ruptured ear drum. She wasn't in pain anymore, as the pressure was alleviated when her eardrum burst. Also, the eardrum is a remarkable thing—it can heal itself. But I felt like a negligent monster. I see kids with draining ears all the time at work, but having it happen to your own child really puts things into perspective. Penny's ear oozed goo for a couple of days; they don't tell you in school that it will get all over clothes and bedsheets and and matted in hair. Yuck.

No fever and no pain; time to mess with the cat.

Anyway, we survived. I was able to pack up my office that weekend, thanks again to Britt, who helped with everything behind the scenes, and I started my new job last Monday. Whew. Looks like I'll be bringing Penny in to see some friends of mine to make sure her ear heals.

Love Bites

2011-03-29T21:22:00.008-06:00

So....the potty. Let's just say that progress has been slow, which isn't really anyone's fault (other than mine), because we are always going somewhere, every day, and we haven't been able to do anything consistently. Add to that recent trips to Lava Hot Springs and Las Vegas, and you can see why it's been easier for us to just let Penny wallow in pull-ups most days. We keep saying we're going to go cold turkey and buy the underwear and clean up messes for a few days. But I'm still trying not to make this too traumatic.

In my limited experience, children going through potty training fall into two (or three) camps: those who don't mind running around naked, those who also seem to be intrinsically rewarded by going potty on their own, and those who are motivated by tangible reinforcement of one kind or another (M&Ms, etc). My child does not fall into any of these categories. I have not been able to find a good motivator, not to mention the issues I have with food-based token reward reinforcement systems, but what's a parent to do? Some kids really love M&Ms. My kid loves fruit snacks, but not enough to sit on the toilet for one.

"I'm a Viking!"

We've (sort of) been using a sticker chart, and there are loads of stickers on the "I sat on the potty!" and "I washed my hands!" rows, but the lines about actually producing/flushing are completely bare. At first, Penny was really into collecting stickers on the lines, because it meant that when it was full, she could get a new dolly. But somewhere along the way, it lost its appeal.

We've been talking it up a lot, about how big girls use the potty, and we list all the big girls we know, and I'm sure Penny is sick of hearing about it. I'm sick of hearing myself; for all I know, I'm making her feel bad. I hear about kids who magically decide one day they want to use the bathroom and I want to believe that will happen, but it's hard to imagine, really. Do I keep pushing the issue, to let her know I'm serious about this? Do I leave it alone for a while? Why do I feel like I've tried everything AND nothing? ("We've tried nothing, and we're all out of ideas!")

Tonight, on a whim, I asked if she wanted to sit on the potty before she put her pajamas on, and she said she did. I gave her a stack of books, because she does her best reading on the toilet. When she finished the books she had, she asked me for more, and while I was in her room, she exclaimed, "I peed in the potty!" And she was right.

And there was much rejoicing.

After she was ready for bed, I was holding her on the couch, telling her how proud I was. Then, when I gave her an encouraging squeeze, SHE BIT ME. It was the slightest nip on my arm, but still. Before I even said anything, she knew she had made a mistake. But the crazy thing was, instead of making a scene, I went into this Zen mode (which surprised me) and said, calmly, "Biting is not nice. We don't bite anybody." In classic Penny Oh-Crap-I'm-In-Trouble-And-I'm-Embarrassed form, she shut down and started crying, although it didn't last long. She rushed through an (admittedly forced) apology, and then we headed for bed.

And then I remembered something that happened to me when I was little. My sister and I were brushing our teeth one night, and I must have done something incredibly snotty. In any case, my sister bit me right on my back, and I knew, even then, that I deserved it. So I told Penny that story and she was very intrigued. I explained that we were little and I made my sister mad and she didn't know how to tell me, so she bit me. Biting me wasn't right, but it also wasn't right for me to make her mad.

Anyway, after the lights were out and Penny was in her bed, she called me into her room a few minutes later.

Penny: "Mama, I need someping."
Me: "What do you need?"
Penny: "I need a drink of water."
Me: "Ok, but this is the last one."
Penny: "Ok."
(I give her the water, and a hug.)
Me: "I'm proud of you for going on the potty."
Penny: "I sorry I bit you, Mama."
Me: "Oh Honey, it's ok."

And she really meant it. Inside, I was turning cartwheels of joy because she had thought about it, and wanted to tell me.

So the moral is, potty training may result in frustration and biting. Great! I can't wait for tomorrow.

The Ups and the Downs and the Screams in Between

2011-03-09T22:53:00.008-07:00

Part of my slacking off with regular posting is because we've settled into a rather nice routine, a comfortable, regular routine, and there hasn't been much to report, really. My days off with Penny are sublime, and I look forward to spending time with her. We get up, eat breakfast, go to dance or to story time, we eat lunch and watch Sesame Street, we take a nap (and sometimes I actually exercise instead), we get up again, we make dinner. Nice, right? On the days I go to work, Penny gets to play with her Grandma and they pretty much do whatever they feel like, and then I pick Penny up and she tells me about her day. The good days are very, very good. I can't believe my good fortune.

But there are bad days too. I'm amazed at how quickly my mood changes, depending on Penny's mood. If she's cranky, I am instantly cranky. I have to consciously remind myself that I'm the adult. She angrily SHOUTS demands like a tiny dictator. Where does she get it? Not from me, I swear! I'm polite! I tell her a million times a day to say "please" after each command she issues. Surely there will be a point where she will remember to include it on her own. She does often say, "Thank you, Mama." And that makes me so happy, I can't even tell you.

Meanwhile, she's rude to other people! Especially to her Grandpas. I don't know what that's about. Random people in the store compliment her, and she recoils, shouting, "Nooo!" I'm glad she has stranger danger because that's a good survival skill, but at some point this behavior won't be acceptable. So I'm trying to combat it by modeling polite responses to people, by asking her to say hello, by encouraging her to at least give her Grandpa a high-five if she doesn't feel like hugging him or saying goodbye. Please tell me other children are this stubborn and dramatic.

The drama doesn't end when Penny goes to sleep. Most nights she sleeps fine, but there are some nights were she wakes up screaming. It makes me bolt upright in bed from a dead sleep. So I rush to her bed, to see what's wrong. And she'll ask for water in a perfectly normal voice. What? I thought you were dying! I don't know if she has nightmares, and jolts awake, and if that's so unsettling she screams? She has a little night light, so it's not completely dark in her room. Maybe I should finally convert her crib into a bed so she won't feel trapped? Maybe the crib helps her feel contained and safe? I don't know!

It's plain to me that with each new phase of development, I feel like a brand new parent. I've never had a two (almost three) year old. Just when I think I've got this parenting thing down, my toddler throws me a curve ball and I feel totally incompetent. But tomorrow is always another day, a fresh start. A chance to be the rational, even-tempered mother (and adult) I know I am.

Remind me to rant about the potty next time (another source of frustration and the ultimate power struggle). I've complained enough about my sweet babe for one evening.

Also: Penny announced the other night that Miss Piggy is her favorite Muppet, so that might explain a few things.

33 Months Old

2011-02-14T23:22:00.006-07:00

Dear Penny,

It's hard to believe that in a mere three months, you will be 3 years old. Sometimes it seems like you're already 3, but I think it's ok for you to be 2 just a little while longer. As I'm writing this, you are sick with a nasty cough, which marks the 3rd illness you've had in 3 months. I think it's going to be a long night. I can't wait for warmer weather so we can air out the house and kick winter to the curb.

You love to play pretend - sometimes you're a mommy taking her baby for a walk, or putting her baby to bed. Sometimes you're a cowgirl, galloping all over the house on her make-believe horse (which for some reason, bucks you off a lot, and then you pretend to cry). You also enjoy painting on your easel and you've learned that mixing blue and red together makes your favorite color. You prefer to do things by yourself, and you scold me when I forget, which makes me laugh. ("No, I do it!")

You are very opinionated about the songs you want to hear in the car. The other day, you made your dad play "Joe Hill" at least 5 times, and although it is an important and meaningful song, it's a little macabre. Now you go around singing, "I never died, said he!" We haven't had to explain death to you yet, though. If it comes up, I'm going to let Daddy field that topic, since he played that song for you in the first place.

Playing "My Side!" with Daddy at the table.

I never thought I'd see the day when I'd be waking you up in the morning instead of the other way around, but we've had a few mornings where you've slept in to the point where I had to get you up so we could make it to dance on time. And speaking of dance, I'm really proud of you, Penny. I don't dance with you in class anymore because you can do everything by yourself. I sit off to the side with the other parents. You listen to your teacher (for the most part), and you remember what she's taught you, which means that you've also learned some French in the process.

The other day, I caught you looking in a little mirror; pretending to "get ready" by rubbing your face with a piece of Styrofoam, as if you were applying makeup, and my heart almost stopped. I have to remember that you are always paying attention, and sometimes I forget that. I am your role model. I set the examples for you to follow, in my actions and my behavior. Oh Honey, I'm really not ready for you to be interested in makeup yet, even though I wear it. Someday I will explain the definition of "hypocrite."

Otherwise, life is pretty good, unless you're sick, like tonight. And sometimes, even though you're almost 3 and you like to do so many things yourself, you still need me, and I still need to be needed. My heart still melts when you tell me you love me. I will never get tired of hearing that. You will always be my baby.

Love,
Mom.

Snow Days

2011-01-16T23:28:00.010-07:00

2010 ended with freezing temperatures, so instead of living it up on New Year's Eve, we went into hibernation instead. It was less than 5 degrees and snowing, and the roads were icy, so we were happy to hunker down. But the next day brought the New Year and some sunshine, so we decided to try out Penny's new winter gear.

You just can't beat purple snow pants.

I have some good childhood memories of making snowmen and playing in our back yard, but I don't remember lasting too long in the cold. I remember my mittens getting encrusted with snow and my fingers turning pink. I only recently learned how to ski, before Penny was born, and I was surprised to discover that being outside in the cold can be fun, as long as you stay warm and dry. And there's gear for that! Wow, winter just became exponentially more fun.

Penny and I both received new snow boots for Xmas, so we put them on and outside. Ooh, there was lots of pristine snow to mess up:

Snow castles are almost as fun as sand castles.

I'd forgotten how satisfying it is to make snow angels. Penny hadn't really seen one before (with the exception of the ones Peter makes in The Snowy Day), so I showed her how to do it. It turns out it's impossible not to laugh while you're lying down in the snow.

Before long, (as predicted) Penny's mittens became encrusted with snow, and her little nose was bright red. So we trudged back inside to warm up.

Last weekend, we attempted sledding at Penny's cousins' house. Since Penny had never been, she didn't think to protest when I put her on the sled with me. We weren't on a very steep hill, but we picked up a bit of speed, enough to make me shriek and giggle; enough to convince Penny she certainly wasn't doing that again. But she happily cheered us on, and laughed when Britt and I careened off track and tipped the sled over.

Today, it's raining, and the snow is almost gone. I'm not holding my breath for spring just yet, but it might be nice to make some more angels before the snow melts away completely.

Artist at Work

2011-01-03T13:39:00.003-07:00

The creative energy is flowing around here. I hope some of it rubs off on me.

"And sometimes I get hot and need some water and cool off."

And a Happy New Year

2010-12-29T23:00:00.009-07:00

How is everyone? Did you survive the weekend? For a minute there, I wasn't sure we were going to make it. I don't know if it was stress from the regular holiday insanity, but Penny and I didn't get along well last week. Every day was Opposite Day, the Word of the Week was "NO," time outs were threatened and enforced. I nicknamed her the Bipolar Baby because her mood swings were so extreme, I wondered if there was an adolescent trapped in her two year old body. She was crying one minute and laughing maniacally the next. I had an emergency play date with my sister-in-law and her kids, and it helped immensely (although it did involve the extrication of a traumatized Penny from the upper tier of a local play-land).

On Friday I had to go to 5 different places with all of the other last-minute shoppers and I dragged Penny along with me, and in hindsight, she put up with a lot. Also, I think there were some underlying fears about Santa, which I finally picked up on after Penny said, for the tenth time, "I don't like Santa."

Part of our problem was we went into party mode, as any self-respecting member of my family does this time of year. Penny stayed up too late, slept in too late (I never thought I would ever say that), and was surly as hell. Then Christmas morning came, and there were presents from Santa, and presents with Britt's family, and presents with my family, and Penny was totally overstimulated.

Seriously awesome rocking horse from our cousins in CO. Olivia is along for the ride.

Fortunately, Opa came to visit, and for the first time, Penny said, "Opa, you come play with me?" And how could he resist?

Drawing with Opa.

Using up the purple.

And now, she's back to her normal, (relatively) reasonable, adorable self, and we're friends again. She has many new things with which to play, and now that the chaos has waned, she's been telling jokes, like this:

Penny: "Mama, say Knock, Knock."
Me: "Ok, Knock, Knock!"
Penny: "Who there?"
Me: "Interrupting Cow."
Penny: "Come in!"

Also, she's been expressing her own opinions about songs on the iPod or the radio, and admonishes me if I change songs. "Mama, I like this song, don't change it." LIKE I would switch away from New Sensation!

Speaking of expression, the easel was pure genius, if I do say so myself. Penny received oodles of art supplies from her family (who got the memo from Santa) and she creates something new every day. She's already used up the purple pastel and the red and green ones need replacing as well. And this makes me very happy. I want 2011 to be full of art, of reading more together, of doing at least one thing with Penny every day that makes me feel like I'm doing a good job fostering her imagination, her creativity, or her emotional well being. Even if a whole day is crap, if I can point to one thing every day and say, "That was great when we did ____ together," then I think that will make for a pretty good year. And I think we can do it.

Flying Solo

2010-12-18T00:21:00.013-07:00

I have never taken a major trip without having a 2:1 adult-to-child ratio, so I was nervous about flying to Denver without my Wing Man. The last time Penny flew on an airplane, she was too little to remember. This time, she was well aware of the hubbub in the terminal; all the bustling people, the tension emanating from everyone in the security line, the tension emanating from ME, and the roar of the planes coming and going. Grandpa helped us check our suitcase and the carseat, and we took only the diaper bag and (per the excellent advice of our friends), the umbrella stroller through security so I could prevail over any toddler-dawdling once we were inside the terminal.

Everything went well until it was time to board. I explained to Penny that we couldn't take the stroller on the plane, but we would get it back when we landed. She was distraught when I checked it at the gate, as though I had given away a prized possession. Then as we were boarding, she declared she was not getting on the plane, and went completely stiff in my arms. So I hurried to our seats, with my petrified, hollering child, avoiding eye contact with everyone we passed. I noticed people inserting their earplugs and iPod earphones, to combat the hysterical screaming coming from our side of the plane. Penny would NOT sit. "Noooo!" She screamed. "It too noisy!" "I...(sniff)..don't (sniff)...want..my..(sniff) SEAT BELT!" She was only marginally upset while sitting on my lap, but was furious when I buckled her into her own seat. She screamed for 15 minutes. And that's when I knew I was the mom with that kid. You know, the one who totally ruins your otherwise enjoyable flight.

Flight attendants kept asking (over the din) if I needed anything, and I smiled weakly at them, refraining from requesting tranquilizers. My fight or flight response was so intense, I momentarily considered getting off the plane. But then I realized that was irrational. I paid for these tickets, we're GOING TO DENVER, goddammit. Distraught toddler or no.

And then, from all that effort, she collapsed in my arms. We hadn't even left the runway. She curled into a ball with her head in my lap, still strapped in, and was out like a light. Poor thing. By the time she woke up, we were in the air and well on our way. That's when she realized that flying is fun. Hey Penny, check out this tray table! Guess what? We get snacks! Here's an awesome book I've been saving for just such an occasion! Want to color? I've got new markers!

Tiger by Mommy, cave by Penny.

When we landed, she exclaimed, "I did it!" And someone nearby applauded.

Meanwhile, we had a fabulous time in Denver. I went to a workshop while Penny played with our cousins and took a trip to the Butterfly Pavilion. We also visited the Denver Botanic Gardens, which is festooned with Christmas lights, and they also have Henry Moore sculptures on display. It was a visual feast, and we warmed up with hot cider and sugared almonds. There was much visiting and quality family time, in addition to a long-awaited play date with our friends Eli and Gray, who are even cuter and more cherubic in person. We had an absolute blast.

Flying home was cake for Penny, now that she knew what to expect. We had a frank conversation about seat belts before boarding, and she was the perfect little traveling companion. The couple next to us even said so!

And then, we couldn't land. Literally. The fog (that turns people inside-out) was so terrible in Salt Lake, we had to stay in a holding pattern for 20 minutes above the airport before the pilot finally gave up and took us back to Grand Junction. My brain could not compute this. I had spent my last joule of energy entertaining Penny, first at the gate, and then on the plane. We had already maxed out every possible activity (including barf bag puppets) and now we couldn't get home.

Welcome to Grand Junction, CO.

The Grand Junction airport is small. Their dining establishments consist of a Subway, which had a 40 minute line; filled with hungry people from several other diverted flights. At this point, Penny was impatient and generally opposed to the idea of standing next to me in line. And I was tired. The Subway ran out of bread loaves and had to fill orders with flatbread. We rallied, had a picnic on the floor of the terminal, and waited anxiously for any word of boarding again. Fortunately, a colleague of mine was on the same flight, so I had someone to talk to, to help me wrangle Penny, and to keep me sane. THANK GOD.

Five hours later, we made it home. Britt, who hadn't seen his baby girl for four days, returned to the airport for the second time to rescue us (the first time, he braved the fog and was waiting at baggage claim when our little detour was announced). I was beyond happy to see him.

And now, I feel rather invincible, like I could do anything or go anywhere. I took my child on an adventure and we rocked it. Thanks to everyone who drove us around and hosted and entertained us and fed us. Let's do it again (someday).

Fighting the Humbugs

2010-12-12T23:04:00.005-07:00

In 3 more weeks, it will be a new year. This boggles my mind. And in the 3 weeks since I last posted, we had Thanksgiving in Wyoming (which was great), Penny and I flew to Denver (more on that later), I went on another overnight work trip, and we promptly came down with The Crud (the doctor's official diagnosis).

But this weekend, we managed to get into the Xmas spirit a little, by decorating the tree and making cookies. I wasn't sure we were going to be able to jam both activities into the same evening, but Penny was really into it. And I briefly felt like Martha Stewart.

Otherwise, I'm not remotely ready for Christmas. I've barely done any shopping, and instead of venturing out this weekend, I went back to bed in an attempt to sleep in between coughing fits. Bah, Humbug!

To React, or Not?

2010-11-23T22:49:00.009-07:00

We are in the thick of toddler life, which means that we are mostly having a lot of fun. Penny cheerfully converses (with me and her dolls) all the live-long day, and she's gotten really good at entertaining herself while I'm cooking and cleaning and doing all of those other things that have to be done. But more than ever, I'm faced with myriad on-the-spot decisions about how to react in any given moment, and it hurts my head. I'm constantly asking myself, "How big of a deal is this, really? What should my reaction be?"

Example 1: Penny is etching the kitchen cabinet with a ball point pen.

Example 2: Penny is constantly sniffing air in and out of her nose to a certain rhythm, even though it isn't running and she doesn't seem to need a kleenex.

Example 3: Penny is dawdling all the way to the car, and once she's in the car, she refuses to get in her car seat, saying, "This how my sit?" as she sits on the cupholders across from her seat. "This how my sit, Mama?"

Example 4: Penny declaring she WANTS to go to time out.

See what I mean? #1 was kind of a big deal, but we'd never actually had a conversation about not scribbling on walls or cabinets before, and since that wasn't some innate kernel of knowledge already stored in her brain, how was she supposed to know? I reminded her that we only draw on paper, not on walls or on cabinets, and she hasn't done it since, nor did she fall apart when she thought she was in trouble, which is an improvement from past experience(s).

#2 drove me absolutely crazy, and she knew it too, which is why she kept doing it. I got her to stop by threatening to use the "booger sucker," which she despises.

#3. This tests my patience to the absolute limit. The dawdling, the messing around, the not getting in her seat. The problem is, I'm usually in a hurry to get somewhere, and then I feel like crap for rushing around all the time and not letting her take her time. Why are we always in such a hurry? Why is it so important to sit right down in her seat? And when she says, "This how my sit?" it is really funny. So I usually try not to laugh go along with it, as long as it isn't raining or snowing on me while I'm trying to get her in her seat.

#4. At the point where I've threatened a time out, and she agrees that it should happen, time out ensues. Call my bluff, will you? Plus I've started adding a minute. Then she's usually ok, as though she really did need a couple of minutes to think about things.

Then there are other thorny issues, like constantly agonizing over whether or not to make her try new things, so she can "be brave," or letting her just be herself. If I intentionally put her in situations she doesn't like, am I forcing her to be someone she's not? How will she know if she likes something if she doesn't try it? Where can I find that balance without adding pressure? This came up at Lagoon, obviously, but there are little things every day, like not wanting to pick a song during toddler group, or not doing something in dance class that everyone else is doing. And I usually just say, "That's fine, you don't have to." Because I don't think I need to be a complete jerk. Because at the end of the day, it's not that big of a deal when you're two. I have to remember that she's only two!

And then there's potty training. We are using cloth diapers 50% of the time at this juncture, which is mostly because I work part time. I'm so tempted to go cold turkey and buy real underwear and have potty boot camp, but the other part of me wants to wait until she warms up to the idea more. But when will that be? If I don't have her try it every day, will she ever want to do it on her own? I have no idea. Will the kinder-gentler approach eventually yield a result, or should I be trying harder to make "potty time" consistent? Do I need to resort to tangible reinforcement with little rewards? I'm not sure I want to go there. Do I even want to push the issue over the break when we'll be traveling a lot in the near future, or should I seize the next 5 days?

Parenting is hard. Note to self: She's only two.

30 Months Old

2010-11-12T00:39:00.005-07:00

Dear Penny,

Wow, we have a crazy schedule right now. I'm doing some different things at work and I feel like I spend most of my time in the car, just driving around the valley. You started a Toddler Group in September, and it's been a lot of fun to go to "school" with you. Sometimes you don't want to sit in your seat, and sometimes you'd rather lie on your belly on the floor. Sometimes we have to go in the hall to have a "conversation" until you're ready to participate in circle time (but don't feel bad, you're not the only kid who doesn't want to sit). But mostly, you have a blast. You like singing all the songs and making art projects, and you REALLY love snack time. I think the other moms must wonder if I feed you breakfast, because you usually want seconds or thirds. You are learning to share toys with the other kids, and to take turns, and maybe by the end of the year, you'll be able to walk in the door without saying "Noooooo!" when the teacher says Hi to you or asks you a direct question.

You also like to come home and play school. You get out your little stool and sing the "hello song" to your dollies, one at at time. Maybe you will be a teacher when you're all grown up. It sort of runs in the family, you know. When you're not at dance or at school, you are usually at Grandma's house. When I picked you up today, you told me you didn't want to go home and that you wanted to stay with Grandma. You have no idea how much it thrills her to hear you say that. You keep Grandma plenty busy and she likes that.

I stopped counting the words in your sentences once you reached 8+ word phrases. I can have whole conversations with you, and tonight at dinner you asked your Aunt Emily what she did today. I love to hear you talk and pronounce new words and it always surprises (and worries) me how much you understand.

I bought plane tickets for us to go to Denver next month, just you and me. I debated whether or not to take you, and I could have nabbed the opportunity to have a trip by myself. But you're my best pal and I can't bear to be away from you for 3 whole nights. So we're going to have a girls' trip, just you and I. It's either going to be loads of fun, and/or I'm completely insane to take you by myself without Daddy's help. But I'm looking forward to our little adventure.

Penny, I'm sorry if it seems like I'm tired and stressed and busy. I am all of those things. It makes me simultaneously laugh and grimace when you pretend to take a shower and say to me, "You play by yourself, ok? I taking a shower." Or, "Goodbye, I going to work! I miss you!" But I relish my days off with you and my favorite thing to do is cuddle you and kiss your warm, sleepy face when we get up in the morning. Daddy has already started working longer hours now that the holidays are approaching and I know he'd rather be home playing with you.

You are two and a half! I'm a little shocked by this. But you will always be my baby, ok?

Love,
Mom.

Trick or Treat

2010-11-03T00:33:00.009-06:00

Halloween in Utah is weird, especially when it falls on a Sunday. And maybe it's weird in other states as well, but I don't recall it being an issue to trick-or-treat in Wyoming on a Sunday, but then again, my memory is a little fuzzy and I was probably more preoccupied with candy at the time. Anyway, every 6 years or so, there is a question about whether to go out on Saturday, or on Sunday, or both. You don't want to look too greedy (oh, who am I kidding?) but you also don't want to look like an idiot, if you are out there, and NO ONE is handing out candy. I know some rather mean-spirited people who refused to give out candy on Saturday, simply out of principle. I also know some people who didn't cater to those who waited until Sunday. All I can say is, thank goodness Halloween will be on Monday next year, so we won't have to worry about it.

But I digress. We were greedy buggers this year, so Penny went trick-or-treating on Saturday with her cousins, and then I took her around our neighborhood on Sunday. Saturday was pretty much a repeat of last year, with Penny sleeping over with her Aunt, Uncle and cousins (plural, now), while Britt and I went to a grown-up party. The two of us. And then we went home. Together. Yep.

Saturday it rained buckets, but Isabelle and Penny were undeterred:

Then Sunday, I told Penny we could go out again after dinner. While I was doing dishes and cooking (I know that doesn't seem like correct order of action, but that's how things are done around here), I told her to keep an eye out for any trick-or-treaters, so she could give them candy. She waited expectantly by the door, so patiently, occasionally calling out that no one was coming. After the third or fourth time she made this observation, Britt went downstairs, raided the costume box (yes, we have one of those), and came up wearing a pirate hat. He went out the side door, so Penny wouldn't see him, came up the path and knocked on the door. Penny was startled, but recognized him immediately as her Daddy, the Pirate. She laughed and gave him candy, and said, "Happy Halloween!"

Then he came back in and went downstairs, and repeated this five more times wearing different costumes. Penny was thrilled. And my heart sang. I like it when it does that.

After dinner, Penny donned her costume, declared it was "her turn," and we went out to see what was going on in our neighborhood. And it was pretty quiet out there. Every couple of houses had a porch light on or the universal beacon of lit pumpkins, so we made a few stops. Most neighbors were dazzled by Penny, the magical fairy princess, and insisted she take extra candy. And then we made the ill-fated stop at the house with the scary clown.

Oh, if only I had known a teenager wearing a demented clown costume was going to answer that door. Penny was positively freaked. And the low, muffled cackling emanating from the rubber clown mask didn't help. I pried my quaking toddler from my leg, thanked the clown and hurried down the block, explaining to a very worried Penny that the clown was just a guy! Wearing a costume! For Halloween! Isn't Halloween fun?

At the next house, a little boy in pajamas (he had gone out on Saturday) answered the door and informed us we were only his 6th visitors. Penny immediately told him about the clown, as he seemed a worthy confidant. Then he warned us against going to the house across the street, where we might get "buzzed." Not wanting to find out what that meant, we decided to pack it in.

And now, the candy negotiations have begun. No, you can't have candy before dinner. No, you can't have more M&Ms, it's time to brush your teeth. And so on. Also, there's candy in my house, which is not a good idea. We need to come up with a better idea for the "treat" part.

I always get a little depressed after Halloween, because it marks the start of the long winter of my discontent. It gets darker and colder, Britt will be working ungodly hours, and I'm not ready to think about Christmas, even though there was already Christmas candy in the Halloween candy aisle at the store.

But I shan't dwell on that right now. For now I will think about how much Penny likes to dress up and dance around the house and how she tells me she loves me every day, "I wub you, Mama." And love like that can get me through any long, cold winter.

Adventures in Cloth Diapering, Week One (And probably TMI about the potty).

2010-10-17T22:30:00.007-06:00

It might be a little late in the game to try something new, and I'm so not an expert in this domain, but I finally decided to get over my hangups and give cloth diapers a try. I chose the gDiapers because I'm a sucker for their colors, and I had tried them before. I have two other friends here in town who use different brands, but love their cloth diapers so much, they inspired me to give it a shot. So far, it hasn't been too bad. I don't really have a "system" yet, but it's not as hard as I thought it would be. My friend Sheree makes it look really easy.

I still have issues with handling poo. Penny consistently has one über gross diaper a day (I should probably be glad there's only one). The lazier, less responsible version of me secretly prefers to just roll up the yucky diapers and throw them away, out of sight, out of mind. And what about wipes? I still use those, and they can't be good for the landfill either.

So, to tackle the poo, we ordered and installed a sprayer that attaches to the toilet, to make rinsing the yucky diapers easier, and it helps. Another friend who uses cloth told me that before their diapers go in the pail, they spray them with a solution of Bac-Out and water, and that keeps them from getting grossified before they go in the washer. Bac-Out is seriously awesome. We use it for pet-related stains all the time.

We spent a good part of today at Penny's cousins' house, and it wasn't hard to pack extra inserts and an extra pant in the diaper bag. We save the plastic bags our newspapers are delivered in, so when the über gross diaper occurred, I emptied it out in the toilet and put the yucky insert in the newspaper bag I had brought along.

I still feel like I need two diaper pails - one for wipes and disposables (which Penny still uses at night), and one for the cloth diapers that need to be washed. And I may find that I need more pants, liners, and inserts to get through the week, unless I am willing to do laundry every day. After all, we're only on day 2 of this grand experiment.

Ultimately, I am wondering if using cloth will speed up toilet training around here. The cloth diapers, while soft and comfy, are not as (eerily) absorbent as the disposables. And my hope is that the difference will motivate Penny to give up diapers entirely. Meanwhile, on the potty training front, Penny goes in the bathroom and closes the door, saying, "I going potty!" when she needs privacy, but will not sit on her little potty chair and would rather just go in her diaper, and doesn't want to discuss it, thank you very much. Frankly, she closes the door in my face.

But then Penny decided she wanted a soft seat that goes over the toilet, like her cousin has (thank Jeebus for older, wiser cousins!). So I let her pick one out in the store. I held up an Elmo seat and a Tinkerbell seat, and she chose Tinkerbell without a second glance at Elmo. To be fair, the Tinkerbell one is purple, so Elmo didn't really stand a chance.

Now she will sit on her fancy seat, for long periods of time, and nothing happens. And that's ok. I'm just happy she's trying it out. She gets a lot of reading done in there, at least. And she is really proud of her "fancy pants," especially the purple ones.

Mother of the Year.

2010-10-05T23:22:00.009-06:00

Can a day go by without some measure of mental flogging on my part because of some parenting mistake I've made? I know there is no such thing as a perfect parent (there had better not be). But here's the horrible thing I did:

We had discounted tickets to go to Lagoon, so we went with the Fam. Penny would have been pleased as punch to ride the carousel a million times, and I should have just left her alone. But her cousin (the daredevil) was having a blast on the other rides, so I thought maybe Penny should branch out a bit.

First, we tried the boats. We really talked them up and said she could ride with her cousin. That got her excited, because she loves to do whatever Isabelle does. The boats are connected in a circle, floating on a small amount of water, and they have little bells for the kids to ding and steering wheels to steer while they go in their happy little circle. Fun, right? Penny barely tolerated it. She looked worried the whole time, as though thinking, "You can drown in two inches of water..." But she didn't cry! Hooray, we thought. Let's try another one!

Aboard the ill-fated "Goldfish."

Next came the cars, which seemed innocuous enough. The cars go on a little track, with no real steering involved. The only drawback is parents can't ride with their kids. So we watched Penny's cousin and her little friend go first, and they had a grand old time. Then we stood in line and watched child after child get in, take off, and come back around the track. Penny said she wanted to do it. I explained I couldn't go with her, but look how much fun it is! Whee! Then it was her turn, and the ride operator helped her get in. She panicked as the car jumped to life, ambling along the track. But she was already on her way, her cries of protest fading away from me.

Britt was on the other end of the track, waiting for her to appear. He reports that she seemed ok coming around the bend, but that as soon as she saw him, she lost it. And that's when I realized that we are really big jerks.

She made it back to me, escaped the clutches of the horrible car, and we cheered and applauded, and told her she was very brave. And yet it wasn't the end of our ruthless "this is good for you!" experiment.

It started to get hot, so we decided to cool off by going on one of the water rides. We thought, it will be like splashing in the kiddie pool! She'll love it! We can all ride together! But we neglected to consider that there wouldn't be enough weight in the boat to steer away from the waterfalls.

Have I mentioned that Penny hates to get splashed? I mean, no one loves a big splash in the face (except Penny's cousin), but Penny finds it particularly offensive. So of course, with each bump and spray and oops! and wow, that's a really big waterfall coming up, was cause for alarm. Isabelle laughed and screamed and giggled. And Penny sobbed. When it was clear we couldn't steer away from the waterfall, I threw myself on top of her in a foolish attempt to keep her dry. Did I mention the water was cold?

We've never gotten that drenched before. Britt and I were soaked to the bone. Our pants and shoes were sopping. Afterward, I realized I had only packed an extra shirt for Penny, not pants. Yep, Mom of the Year, right here. I forced my kid to endure cold splashing water and didn't even bring a dry outfit.

So, to make it up to her, we hit the carousel for the rest of the day. Later that night, she refused to go to sleep, even though she was utterly exhausted. I think she had some lingering separation anxiety from that horrible car incident.

All better, now.

Penny can recap the experience in her own words: "I like merry-go-round. I don't like the cars. I don't like that WATER." And each time she says that, I feel worse. I wonder if my attempts at forcing bravery will backfire completely. Have I lost her trust? Will she be willing to try it again in another year? Or will she go running for the hills? And is it wrong that a teeny part of me thinks the whole thing was just a little bit funny? God, I'm a jerk.

More Parenting Fails can be found on a recent post at Flotsam. Reading the comments made me feel slightly better.

Yellowstone 2010

2010-09-28T21:18:00.005-06:00

Yellowstone is one of my favorite places in the world. It is a sacred place for me, which sounds so hokey, but it's true. My parents loved it too, and as kids, we used to visit at least once a year. We haven't been there since my mom died, partly because we've been busy, because we didn't have the kind of time it takes to go through the Park. And mostly because we haven't been emotionally ready to go back there, without my mom.

But this year, we felt compelled to go. I was ready. I wanted to take Penny on the first of many pilgrimages to Yellowstone.

We had trouble finding a place to stay inside the Park, but scored a wonderful cabin outside of West Yellowstone. Even though it was late in the season, the Park was still busy. People have discovered what we already knew, that September is the perfect time of year to go. The leaves are just starting to turn, the weather is mild, and the wildlife is "active."

Lovely Norwegian Fjord horses, grazing behind our cabin. (Not native to Yellowstone).

Penny was unbelievably good in the car. It takes a while to drive through the Park, because of the "must stop" attractions like Old Faithful, the interesting scenery, and the occasional bison crossing. Any time you can get out and inspect a thermal feature, or get a better look at a distant elk herd, you must! It was challenging to coax Penny into getting back into the car once we had stopped to look at something. But she handled it well, considering her legs were probably constantly numb from sitting in her carseat.

If you haven't been to Yellowstone, you must go. I always see something I haven't seen before. I'm already wondering when we can go back.

Dance of the Wild Fairy Girl

2010-09-10T23:11:00.006-06:00

I realize I may incur some wrath here, since I'm invoking both Halloween and Christmas, and God knows nobody's ready for that, but this is mostly how we spend our mornings. Penny gets up, requests her fairy dress, and starts dancing.

Song: Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy (Red Baron Remix), by the Berlin Symphony Orchestra.

Bouncing

2010-09-05T22:45:00.004-06:00

Remember how satisfying it is to jump? Sometimes I forget. A couple of weeks ago, Penny and I went to visit a friend for a mini-play date, and Penny was introduced to the world of the trampoline. She got to experience the thrill of getting extra air, and those split seconds of free-fall. You know that extra bounce you get when someone comes and jumps right next to you? Penny thought that was hilarious.

This weekend, we went to the Annual Labor Day Celebration hosted by Britt's Union, and although we didn't win that elusive flatscreen TV, there were lots of fun things to do, including a whole bunch of bounce houses. Penny and her cousin bounced most of the morning, undeterred by the older kids who kept coming in and then back out again. Some of the other bouncy contraptions had inflated mazes and slides, which looked like they might devour small unsuspecting toddlers. So we stuck with the basic one, and although Penny asked me to go in with her, I just didn't think that would be prudent. There was a point when she finally had to be extricated from the plastic jaws of the thing.

And then I was stuck on this for the rest of the day:

If you like oddball British Comedy, you should get acquainted with the insanity of The Mighty Boosh. Penny's not old enough to watch it, naturally.

Happy Labor Day!

Common Toddler Phrases, Explained

2010-08-31T22:26:00.007-06:00

The past couple of weeks have been an enlightening look into my toddler's personality. Here are some of Penny's phrases, translated for the general public.

1. DON'T LOOK AT ME! — This means, "I'm doing something naughty and I don't want you to see what I'm doing. Because if you don't see me doing it, it's not really happening."

2. DON'T TALK, EVERYBODY! — This means, "You're trying to have a conversation that doesn't apply to me, and I like being the center of attention."

3. I NOT BORED, I HAPPY! — "I don't know the meaning of the word 'ambivalent.'"

4. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW? — "Wait. You have other emotions aside from happy? Go back to being happy!"

And then today, when I went to pick Penny up from Grandma's house, she was still napping. She was lying peacefully on Grandma and Grandpa's bed, fast asleep, breathing slowly. I went to lie down next to her, and when I put my arm around her, she stirred, rolled her sleepy eyes open to focus on my face, then smiled and sighed, "I miss you, Mama." Then she closed her eyes again and let me hold her. And then my heart exploded.

Bad Dreams

2010-08-22T15:14:00.004-06:00

A wise friend told me that sleep training never really ends. Just when things are going fantastically well in the sleep department, something happens. Like nightmares. Penny has a recurring bad dream that a baby giraffe is outside her window. She says it's a baby giraffe, not a mama, and he's cute and has spots and everything, but the thought of that giraffe peeking through her window is disturbing enough to her that she cries out a couple of times a week after going to bed. When I go in, she explains the whole thing to me, that it was a bad dream, that it was a baby giraffe, with spots, etc. And then she rolls over and goes back to sleep.

Another wise friend told me that when she was little, her mom used to tell her to think about happy things, so she wouldn't be troubled by the scary things. So I've been telling Penny to do just that:

Penny: AAaaaahhh! Mama! Mama!
Me: What's wrong?
Penny: I had bad dream. Baby giraffe out the window.
Me: It was just a dream. Think about happy things, ok?
Penny: Ok, I think happy things. Sigh.
Me: Goodnight, go to sleep.

I want a creative child, with a healthy imagination, but could the imagination maybe just take a break at night?

Another thing Penny detests is thunder, and with regular late-summer mid-afternoon thunderstorms rolling in, napping can be tricky sometimes. And how do you explain thunder in concrete terms to a two year old? I told her thunder comes from the clouds during a storm but that it's not scary. But sometimes I think thunder is scary too, so that pretty much makes me a liar.

Yet another thing is the ritualistic bed-time stalling, where suddenly Penny is extremely interested in picking up toys, anything to prevent bedtime. If only she would clean the house during the day! And sometimes I have to go in and put her blanket on her 5 times before she settles down. As I write this, she's supposed to be napping, but she keeps having blanket malfunctions. I finally had to tell her I wouldn't be coming back in to fix her blanket (after "fixing" it 4 times already). She likes to have her arms and her feet covered, but when she moves, she becomes uncovered. Apparently only I can solve her blanket dilemma. And WHY she has to be covered by her blanket in the heat of the summer is a mystery to me. But I need to stop deciphering toddler logic.

But here's whats funny/awesome/embarrassing depending on your point of view: It has never occurred to Penny to climb out of her crib. Sometimes I wonder if she should be in a toddler bed, since she's a toddler now and all. But other times I'm thrilled that she doesn't (or can't, or won't) climb out and has to stay put, even when she has a bad dream. Is that awful? I figure, the big girl bed will happen eventually. For now, she's not getting out of bed every time her blanket needs "fixing" and I'm fine with that.

I don't know what to do about that baby giraffe, though. I'm just grateful it's not a giant spider.

Fore!

2010-08-15T13:31:00.006-06:00

Last weekend, we ventured out to enjoy the FREE mini-golf course at the Salt Lake Art Center. All of the holes were created by top local artists (and some from around the country). We hadn't been mini-golfing in ages, and this exhibition was a fun excuse to go downtown and support the arts.

This one was one of my favorites, made out of yarn. Those fashionable surgical booties on Britt's feet were to protect the course. They didn't have Penny's size.

Fore!

Thwack!

Mini-golf is the best kind of golf because you don't have to be good at it to have fun. Parts of the course were intentionally designed to be hard, if not totally impossible, so it was both challenging and entertaining.

This one was aptly named "Pissing Into the Wind."

I'm glad we went—it was fun to get out of the house and do something different. If you're here in town, the exhibit ends September 16th.

27 Months Old

2010-08-11T00:04:00.006-06:00

Dear Penny,

Oh, dear. We seem to be in the thick of the "terrible twos," not that I care for that term. You are certainly not terrible. But we are navigating some difficult terrain, punctuated by daily screaming fits. We can usually get through most of the day, but right around dinner time, logic and reason fail, communication ceases, and you totally fall apart. And then I have to tell you to breathe, to calm down, and tell me what's wrong. Sometimes this works, and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes trying to put what's wrong into words causes you to melt down all over again. These mini-Chernobyls are accompanied by the waving of hands and near-hyperventilation, and it might be comical if it weren't so appalling.

But it's not all high drama. Mostly you play and laugh and read and draw and play some more. A couple of weeks ago, we went to Idaho to visit our extended family. You saw your Great Grandma Ruth, and met some Great Aunts you had never seen before, and after your shyness wore off, you gorged on deviled eggs and baked beans. You swam in the hotel pool and you got to sleep in a big bed with your mom and dad. I'm pretty sure you think that the hotel was "Idaho."

You have an uncanny ability to make me laugh. When you play, you use different voices for your dolls and stuffed animals, to jazz up their conversations. One night, while we were trying to get you to go to sleep in "Idaho," I caught you sticking your finger up your nose. I told you not to pick your nose. Then, you took your dolly's fingers and stuck them in your nose. And I said, "No, dolly, don't pick Penny's nose." So then you made your dolly pick her own nose, saying, in your cute little dolly voice, "Oh! I got boogers!"

And I'm not one to condone booger humor, but this made me laugh until I cried, and you were exceedingly delighted.

Also, you have perfected the evil eye. See?

Meanwhile, your potty chair is collecting dust, because you shun it. So I will continue to (try to) be patient, until you are ready to use it. Because if there's one thing I've learned these past 27 months, is that you will do things when you are good and ready. I'm sorry I get frustrated sometimes; it feels good to say that. We're in this together. You will always be my baby.

Love,
Mom

Tea for Two

2010-08-04T22:26:00.009-06:00

My friend Mindy recently came up with a cunning plan to have a surprise tea party for Penny and her daughter, LC. The plan involved covertly packing our girls' respective fancy dresses in our diaper bags and keeping the whole junket a secret. Penny and I spend most of our time lazing around the house in our skivvies, so whenever we get dressed, she thinks it's a special occasion. So she said, "Where we going?" And I told her it was a surprise. This really piqued her interest and she asked 100 more times, "Where we going? A Prise?" Oh yes, the "Prise" of your life, kiddo.

Gimme some knuckles!

So Mindy and LC picked us up, and took us to LC's Grandma Georgia's house, who had prepared a feast fit for two little princesses, complete with miniature homemade frosted cupcakes and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches cut into the shapes of teddy bears. When I grow up, I want to be Grandma Georgia.

The feast.

These cupcakes are divine!

Incidentally, Georgia has a room in her house dedicated entirely to the whims of her grandchildren, with Raggedy Ann dollies and Fancy Nancy books, and tea sets, and fairy wings for dressing up. Now, I've said before I don't love the whole princess mentality, and I'm fully aware that I'm encouraging it. But seeing Penny playing dress-up with her friend while wearing fairy wings was one of the highlights of my summer. And Penny still talks about her "Prise" at "Grandma George's." That surprise is going to be hard to top.

Fairy wings! Eee!

Meanwhile, Penny and I still try to go to the library on my days off, and I'd been kicking around the idea of attending the Preschool Story Time instead of Book Baby, which is our usual haunt. I was worried Penny wouldn't like it as much, because Book Baby has short stories, lots of songs, and most importantly, bubbles. But it also has a lot of babies, and sometimes it can be a little hard to hear the stories and the music over the noisy baby ruckus.

So today, we tried the older group. I noticed most of the moms and dads were sitting toward the back or holding younger siblings, while the other kids were right up front. There was no way Penny was going to sit up there alone, so she sat on my lap and we participated together. The woman in charge read three entertaining stories involving funny birds: Boo Hoo Bird, Chick, and Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus! The kids were enthralled. Next came the "Two Little Blackbirds" rhyme I had totally forgotten about, complete with felt blackbirds on popsicle sticks for each child to use, followed by some free play with instruments and streamers. In short, it was awesome. Penny was younger than many of the kids, but about the same age as some of the others. She's right in between the two story groups, so maybe coming to the preschool group will be good practice for school.

I'm so not ready to think about that yet.

One Sick Kid.

2010-07-22T23:53:00.009-06:00

Is it a rite of passage to get puked on? Does it just come with the territory? Do all toddlers freak out and throw their heads back and nearly aspirate, or is that just my kid?

We had a rough weekend. Britt had been sick earlier in the week, and Penny must have caught whatever bowel-bomb he had. Thursday night, Penny had a hard time sleeping, and cried out several times. I went in her room to ask her what was wrong, but she calmed down each time. So by the 5th time, I asked Britt to take a turn. And that's when she threw up. All down Britt's back, all over the floor, all over the changing table, everywhere. And she screamed.

I guess you have to learn how to puke properly, which is something I had never considered, even after our ill-fated return from Vegas. Penny was so upset about throwing up and the mess, that she wouldn't bend over. She was completely stiff, upright, screaming. Finally, we got her to relax and kneel, so we could keep her head down. It was awful. I have never seen her that sick before. I felt myself struggling internally with so many feelings at once: shock and panic while trying to comfort and calm, standing in toddler puke. I held her and told her it was ok, to just let it all out. I tried to explain it all had to come out of her tummy and then she would feel better. But deep down I wanted to cry.

Dr. Penny checks the temperature of one hot potato,

Getting sick makes me cry. Seeing Penny in that much distress made me want to cry. But I knew I had to keep it together, to show her it was ok, that it wasn't scary or gross, or bad. I tried to think of what my parents used to do for me, whenever I was sick. They spoke gently, held me, and cleaned up after me. Eventually, Penny passed out in my arms, exhausted. She woke up a couple of hours later, and was markedly better. That was Friday. By Saturday, she was eating and running through the sprinklers, as good as new.

And administers medication as needed.

Then Sunday morning, she started throwing up again. This time, she couldn't even keep water down. Britt and I exchanged nervous glances and I got out the BOOK to read up on "when to call the doctor." We decided to try ice chips, to slow down her system and get her hydrated, and that worked. By then, she had curled up on the floor next to her potty chair (which we were using as a receptacle) and fell asleep, after saying, to herself, "I sorry, Penny." A couple of hours later, she was able to eat some jello. Then she slept some more, on a makeshift bed on the floor.

And now she's fine, as she can tell you herself:

I don't know what that was about, but I hope it doesn't happen again for a long time. And when it does happen again, as it surely will, I'll remember what to do: Remain calm, rally, clean it up. Everything will be ok. And maybe by next time, Penny's aim will have improved.

Leading by Example

2010-07-13T22:59:00.003-06:00

One of my biggest challenges as a parent has been to be a good example for my child. In so many ways, I want her to be just like me, except for all of the things I dislike about myself, let's leave those things out. I want her to be brave enough to try new things, but I don't want to force her to do something if she doesn't want to do it. I don't want her to be afraid of creeping, crawling, or flying things. I want her to be nice to everyone, even to people who aren't nice back. I think about how mean girls can be and I remember times when I was mean, and I just cringe. So I have to assume that these things are not always inherent qualities, and that some things have to be modeled or taught.

Case in point: Recently there was a spider in the bathtub. Normally I leave spiders alone if they are up high, out of reach, far away from me. If they don't bother me, I won't bother them; it's a nice little relationship. But if they cross my path, or go in Penny's room, watch out, Mr. (or Ms.) Spider. We get the occasional spider in the tub, and if the cats are too lazy to do their cat-ly duty or torturing and then eating them, then it's up to me to dispose of the spiders so they won't crawl on my naked body in the shower, the most heebie-jeebie-inducing thought.

Penny saw this particular spider, and while I tried to ignore it, hoping it would disappear, Penny kept commenting on it, worrying about it. So— I showed her what to do with spiders. I found a cup, scooped the spider into it, and calmly placed a piece of paper on top of the cup. Then I walked out the front door and dumped it out. And it took everything I had to keep my shit together in front of Penny. All because I didn't want her to see me wail on an innocent creature, no matter how disgusting it was. Granted, if it had been venomous, I would have had a different approach: I would have made Britt deal with it.

The other day, Britt found a wounded bee outside, and he picked it up and put it on a flower, while Penny supervised. Then she came inside and told me about the baby bee who was hurt and needed his mommy. That bee probably didn't make it, but at least it died on a flower instead of on the sidewalk. Personally, I like bees, because they are important (not that spiders aren't important, but they don't pollinate my food), but I still don't like them buzzing around my head or trying to land on me. Hopefully Penny will be more tolerant.

Example #2. I had to get a TB screening for work, and I ended up taking Penny with me to the doctor's office so I could have it done. I really dislike needles, but I felt I had to be extra brave in front of Penny. I even gave her my sucker.

The point is, having a child has made me look at myself from a different point of view. When you see yourself through the eyes of your child, it can be sobering. Lately I've been worried about overparenting and I'm wondering if worrying about that makes me an overparenter by default. I don't think so. I don't have Penny over-scheduled with activities, but I am on her case a lot. I feel like I'm constantly getting after her about everything. Is that overparenting or just plain old parenting? Maybe this is a topic for another post.

Independence Day

2010-07-11T22:58:00.007-06:00

This 4th of July weekend, two of my cousins came to visit, and there was much rejoicing. Specifically, there were fireworks, sparklers, cupcakes and ice cream cones, and ice cream cones topped with frosting from the cupcakes. And then we went into diabetic comas.

Pre-coma.

There was a moment when we thought Penny might not survive the fireworks display, given how she reacted to some distant fireworks she only heard the night before. She was very concerned, and tearfully told everyone in the family she was scared, but "I ok now," (sniffle). But she was scared. So we spent the next day talking up how cool fireworks are—yes they are noisy, but they're so pretty! We're going to have so much fun, do you know why? Because it's America's birthday! Birthdays are awesome!

We ended up scoring a great spot to watch the show, and Penny was very brave. She even commented on the ones she liked (the green ones). We snuggled together on our blankets and enjoyed the pyrotechnics, oohing and aaahing appropriately. It was fun to go out, stay up late, and be in the throng of people who all came out to celebrate.

Another weekend highlight was the pink dress Penny's Auntie Em got for her, which she now wants to wear every single day. Now I understand why kids show up to school wearing Halloween costumes, it's almost not worth the battle.

The green froggy boots make a fetching ensemble, don't you agree? Not your typical red, white, and blue, but it has a certain quality.

Hugs all around.

I loved being with my family. Games were played, sparklers were lit, and best of all, Penny got to bond with her cousins. Meanwhile, I'm trying not to think about how quickly this summer is passing. Can we squeeze in a few more celebrations before the weather changes and the days get shorter?

The Binky's Demise

2010-06-30T21:58:00.009-06:00

Ding, dong, the binky's dead! Which old binky? The bedtime binky! We are 100% binky free!

Wow, if I had known life without the binky would be this easy, I would have banished it ages ago. But I think a month of talking about being a big girl (and reading the book I made for her) really helped Penny to prepare for the inevitable. Nights have been a piece of cake, although the afternoon nap has been more of a battle, which is exactly the opposite of how I thought it would go.

When I told Penny that the binky was gone, she was sad. She was beyond sad, she was visibly aggrieved. And I was sad too, I truly was, because the whole thing had been my fault to begin with. I'm the one who got her hooked on it in the first place, and I'm the one who didn't take it away sooner. I'm the one who had to devise a cunning plan to be rid of it, who compiled advice (solicited and otherwise) and gathered enough ideas to fill a tome, something I'll call "The Big Book of Binky Extraction."

But Penny's binky grief ended when she realized it was nap time, and thus decided to spend her energy negotiating for more play time. Ordinarily, she would have been won over by one satisfying binky, but now that my ace in the hole (pardon the expression) was gone, I was not prepared to deflect the relentless stalling techniques of my toddler. I had no idea she was so crafty! She pulls out all the stops when it's time to lie down, and it almost works, until I remember that I am actually still the boss around here. I hate those little spells of amnesia.

That first day was hard, I won't lie. There was screaming, 40 whole minutes of howling, "5 more minutes! 5 more minutes! Mama! Mama!" during which I went in her room (and stood at her doorway) several times to remind her that it was, in fact, nap time. I know she was mad because she didn't want to nap, but I think there was also some underlying anger about the binky's demise, anger she couldn't put into words ("You're a monster, mother!"). Furthermore, it is my observation that there is a relationship between the actual need for a nap and the resistance a child puts up, which is to say, the more Penny needs a nap, the harder she tries to convince me she doesn't need one.

The next day, there were 10 minutes of furious anger, followed by 1 minute of minor fussing on the third day. Meanwhile, night time has been considerably easier, in fact, I think she sleeps better without the binky at night, because she doesn't wake up and wonder where it's gone off to. And better yet, she doesn't wake me up to help her find it in the dark. The first night, instead of crying out for the binky, she woke to report, lucidly, that the cat was being "really silly," then she rolled over and went back to sleep. And she's slept all night since.

And now, Penny tells me, "Binky all gone. I a big girl now." It's her mantra. And it sort of makes me want to cry. Because if I had my druthers, she could keep the damn binky, if she would stay little forever.

Various things that start with "P."

2010-06-20T23:16:00.009-06:00

Here it is, my first obsessive post about potty training. I can't remember how long ago I bought a little potty chair for Penny, but it's been in our bathroom for months, and I guess I was hoping she would just learn how to use it on her own, by simple observation. Here's another thing: I dislike the word "potty." But I don't know what else to call it, and I haven't come up with a better word for it, and now Penny says it, and here we are, beginning our first earnest attempts to potty train, although I also dislike the verb "train" as it pertains to my child, and I fully expect this to be an arduous process.

By the way, Flotsam has a hilarious post about the potty nomenclature, which generated many comments from people who shared their potty training experiences. I haven't read all the comments because I was too overwhelmed.

And here's why it's going to take a long time: Because it has to be Penny's idea. Not just Penny's, any kid's. I have heard horrific tales of kids resisting the well-intentioned pressure of their parents, of early successes totally backfiring later, of kids holding it in because it has to be their idea, not a grown-up's, to go in the socially acceptable receptacle. At Penny's annual check-up, I asked my doctor for some advice, and she reinforced the notion that kids will do it when they're ready. Some are ready at 2 years old, some are 3, but sooner or later, everyone gets it.

Hoo, and there are so many different philosophies and strategies! Some kids just run around naked all the time (which might be easier now that it's summer), and eventually get tired of having pee running down their legs, so that's motivating enough, I suppose. But that involves cleaning up lots of messes, which doesn't thrill me. Some people keep the potty in the play area, or wherever their child spends a lot of time, which I also don't love, because I think the bathroom should stay in the bathroom. Some kids are easy to bribe, and some kids aren't. Some people favor a little seat on the big toilet, so there isn't anything extra to clean, while others prefer the portability of a potty chair. Sheesh, I had no idea this would be so complicated.

But I'm posting about this because today, we had our first potty success, and that made me unbelievably proud. For months, Penny has been sitting, but not doing anything, and not really sitting long enough to do anything, and really just running back and forth, sitting for one second on the potty, then standing, running down the hall, running back, and closing the door, shouting, "I going potty!" x100. (This prompted a doorknob change because we were worried she was going to lock herself in). But today, when she got up from her nap, her diaper was pretty dry, so I figured, let's give this a try, and I gave her some reading material, and she sat long enough for the magic to happen. And we laid the praise on soooo thick, she was very pleased and we were pleased, and we said, let's see if she'll do it again! Two accidents later, and she was a bit unnerved and requested her diaper. "Oh, no!" Penny exclaimed, worried. So. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow.

Reading, the ultimate motivation.

It's going to be hard not to pressure her too much. It's also going to be hard for me to persist, in a consistent fashion, because that takes a certain amount of energy and each day is a little different schedule-wise. But, I figure we'll go slow, provide ample opportunities, celebrate the successes, and follow her lead. Sounds good enough, anyway. "Process" is another word that starts with P. And if none of that works, I guess I can always make another book.

Sevens

2010-06-11T19:44:00.003-06:00

This is Penny's current favorite song, the song that appeases her in the car, now that the binky is toast. She also requests it the moment she wakes up in the morning.

Sevens, by They Might Be Giants:

"I would like some cake." "Me too."

Binkies and Existential Crises.

2010-06-09T23:52:00.014-06:00

Putting mommy's drawing skills to the test.

Before he went to work the other morning, Britt came into our room while I was still sleeping and whispered, "I don't mean to alarm you, but our baby is gone. She's been replaced by a toddler who grew 4 inches last night and now she's all legs." And he's right. We don't have a baby anymore, we have a little kid. A kid who likes to water the plants in the garden and who reads books to her dollies, who pretends to cook hot dogs in her little kitchen and says, "Careful mommy, it hot!" A kid who says, "Hey mama!" And when I say, "What?" She says, "I want to hold you."

A kid who no longer has a binky in the car, and we're gunning for the bedtime binky next. Do you hear me binky? You're next.

Here's the scoop on the cunning binky plan. At my place of employment, some of the kids use "social stories," which are a way for children to learn about a particular social situation, or to be more prepared for an upcoming event, or to learn a certain routine. In extreme cases, they are used to change a target behavior. I'm not a psychologist, but I know Penny loves books, and she loves to look at pictures of herself, so I got to thinking: What if I wrote (and illustrated) a book about a girl named Penny who becomes a big girl and doesn't need her binky anymore?

Let's just say I've spent many nights working on this, and it's finally done. But before I finished, I had a small existential crisis. What effect will the book have? Will it prepare Penny for the impending loss of the bedtime binky? Will it be a self-fulfilling prophecy, or will it merely be an amusing cautionary tale with no lasting effect whatsoever on my child?

That bike was really hard to draw.

Then there was the small problem of the plot. I knew the beginning and the end, but I wasn't sure what should happen to the binky, since I hadn't done anything about the binky myself. I was sort of hoping the book would magically solve that problem for me.

And then I didn't have to wait for inspiration. Because last week, the car binky became so disgusting, I had to throw it away. I was driving when I heard a slurping sound, something that sounded like Penny sipping through the straw in her cup. But when I looked in the mirror, she wasn't drinking from her cup. That hideous sound was coming from the binky. She had chewed a tiny hole in it, thereby compromising the plastic, and her spittle had collected in the bottom. That sound was the spittle being sucked in and out. BLECH.

That's it, I thought. That's just too gross. So when she wasn't looking, I pitched it. The next day, when we got in the car, she started looking for it. "You find it!" she said, panicked and angry. She asked if it was in the backpack, and I said no. I said, "The binky was gross and yucky, and it's all gone now." She was a little sad, but recovered once I started playing her current favorite song ("Sevens" by They Might Be Giants).

Then she said, "Car binky gross-y. White binky in house." And I could see her practically sighing with relief, because her beloved bedtime binky was still safe. Curse you, you clever two year old, you've got me there. It sure is, but not for long. Penny's done phenomenally well without car binky. She's talking more while we drive around, she sings more to the music, and life has been great. The white binky might be a little harder to get over, since that (theoretically) helps her sleep, but I am encouraged by our first step toward our binky-free life.

My sister kindly laminated and bound my book for me, and I plan to give it to Penny tomorrow. I suspect she'll want to read it a lot, and I hope it will prepare her for the next step. Stay tuned.

Friends

2010-06-01T23:26:00.002-06:00

Good friends butt heads, a little. Ouchie.

I really need to work on NOT reacting.

The Duck Party

2010-05-26T23:00:00.009-06:00

I'm having one of those evenings where I have so many ideas, but instead of doing anything productive, I just want to lie down instead. I realized I never raved about Penny's awesome 2nd birthday party, which was the origin of the fabulous bike (trike). Also, even before Penny turned two, I came up with a cunning plan to address the binky, but I am sorry to say the plan has yet to be implemented. I'm working on it, really. Tomorrow is her 2 year check-up, so I'm sort of hoping to avoid the binky topic altogether, assuming my doctor doesn't notice my shifty eyes, which may betray me.

Anyway, the party. This year I wanted to keep things simple, so I wouldn't feel like pulling out all of my hair. This is a tricky thing. On one hand, I like parties, and we rarely throw them at our house, because we prefer to go to other people's parties. On the other hand, Penny will likely not remember a birthday party at her age. So what's a parent to do? Go all out and go crazy, or keep it low-key? I tried to shoot for a happy medium, because we still like a good party.

I chose a duck theme, because Penny is rather partial to ducks, and many of the songs she likes involve ducks in some way. I also decided to include an end-time for the party, so people wouldn't feel obligated to stay late, and so we wouldn't feel like we had to put on an epic bash. We invited friends who also had children, as well as Penny's family. I wanted Penny to have ample opportunities to play with other kids, seeing as how it was actually her party. I bought a little bubble machine (which sort of worked), and provided kazoos and other musical instruments for the kids, and we played a few rounds of Ring-Around-The-Rosy, Penny's favorite. We also borrowed the slide from Penny's Grandparents' backyard. Fortunately, the weather was good. No freak snowstorms! We would have been utterly screwed if we'd had to move the party indoors!

The crowning achievement was something I didn't even do. A friend of ours offered to make a cake for Penny. I told her we were going for a duck theme, with rubber duckies and kazoos as party favors. This is what she made:

Holy crap. I never could have made this. Now the bar has been raised! And it was tasty, to boot!

Our friends gave generously to Penny. She still hasn't caught the vision of politely opening everyone's presents and thanking them before playing with her new things. In fact, I ended up opening many gifts for her, because she was busy trying to play with whatever had been opened previously. I felt lame doing that, but I didn't want the present-opening to drag on too long. Hopefully next year, she'll have learned some more gift-opening etiquette.

Then came the fabulous trike. Penny had been admiring (and trying to take turns with) her friends' tricycles for the past couple of months, so her Grandparents bought her one of her own. It's very pink, and Penny loves it. I like it too, because now instead of the stroller, we can take the trike to the park. I can walk and get my exercise, and Penny can ride. I can usually coax her into doing a whole lap by rewarding her with the swings afterwards.

It's still a challenge for me to be a good hostess. I never get to talk to friends as much as I want to. I had hoped to play more games with the kids, but I ended up letting everybody do their own thing, instead of being the task master. In the end, Penny blew out her candles to a chorus of "Happy Birthday" hummed on kazoos, so I'd call that a success.

Meanwhile, the cunning binky plan is related to the trike, so when that transpires, I will divulge more.

The Little Napoleon

2010-05-18T22:51:00.009-06:00

Help! I have a two year old on my hands! I'm not sure where this tiny dictator came from, but she won't listen to reason and loses decorum in the blink of an eye. Where is my sweet baby? Where is my obedient, well behaved, sweet-natured child? Why has she had it with me and logic?

Here are some things I learned this weekend:

1. When in doubt, bring something cool from home. If you are out in public, say, at a friend's baby shower, and someone had the foresight to bring an enjoyable toy for their child, but you forgot to bring something for your own child, you know, because you were at a PARK, and because that should have been entertainment enough, if you expect your child to take turns with said awesome toy, you'd better have something amazing you can produce out of thin air, otherwise, your child will throw the biggest fit of the century in front of everyone, including the expectant couple, who might suddenly regret their impending entry into parenthood. Biggest. Fit. Ever. I had to pry Penny's fingers from her friend's toy, while she was screaming, "MINE! MINE!" For a second, I thought her head might start rotating on her shoulders. We retreated to the swings so she could calm down long enough to hear me explain how turn-taking works. And then it didn't work, all over again.

2. Choose your battles. Let's say you are in the magical land of IKEA, just because you enjoy fantasizing about remodeling your sucky kitchen, and you like to wander around showrooms in your spare time, and your child balks at riding in the cart, but refuses to leave each model bedroom you encounter, because she would prefer to play Goldilocks with each bed, and walking a mere three yards to the next room is a battle that repeats itself over and over to infinity and beyond, maybe it's best to just let your child play while you send your sister on to fantasise without you. You know, because you don't want a repeat of the Biggest. Fit. Ever. Eventually, Penny became so worn out, she capitulated to the cart by the time we were done. Yes! We dodged that one.

Meanwhile, as you are getting ready for work the next morning, and your child insists on taking all of her new cups and plates and bowls to Grandma's (purchased from the IKEA adventure), and you say that she can take one plate and one bowl and one cup, and instead she slips all of the cups and 2 of the bowls into the bag while you aren't looking, maybe it's ok to just let it go, because you have better things to do than to fight with a two year old, and at least she left the plates.

3. Offer choices. When you're at the park, and your child is tired of riding her fabulous new trike, but you are still some distance from you car, offer a choice: You can ride your trike, or you can walk. No, you can't haphazardly push your trike into innocent bystanders. No, I can't carry you that far, besides, I have to push this fabulous trike you suddenly don't feel like riding. Hmm, maybe holding mom's hand and walking and finding birds and squirrels isn't so bad after all.

Don't cross her.

It's not all horrible. When Penny gets mad, she angrily storms off, elbows swinging, to an adjacent room, stands there for a minute, and then returns, saying, "I happy now." Whew, that's a relief. But sweet Baby Jesus, how are we going to survive the next 11 months? Oh, and people need to stop telling me that 3 is worse than 2. I really don't need to hear that.

Penny's 2nd Year, in 6 minutes.

2010-05-14T21:08:00.003-06:00

I thought babies changed a lot in their first year, going from tiny infants to robust toddlers, but looking back at the past twelve months, it's amazing to see how much Penny has changed since she took her first wobbly steps.

Song credits:
"Four Winds" by Taj Mahal
"Nobody Told Me" by John Lennon

Side Note: When I was a kid, I remember seeing the video for John Lennon's posthumous "Nobody Told Me," which had clips of him and Yoko and their son, Sean. I tried to find a copy of that video, to no avail. I seem to recall a clip of Sean running on the beach into the water, and thinking it looked like daring fun, since I hadn't yet seen the ocean.

2 Years Old

2010-05-06T23:42:00.011-06:00

May 6, 2010

Dear Penny,

Two years ago, you came into our lives, our Lucky Penny, our golden child. I've never told you this before, but it took a lot longer for you to get here than we thought it would. Someday I will tell you the whole story, but ultimately, things didn't work out the way we expected (twice), and I had to learn how to cope when things didn't go my way. But now you're here, and you've made me so happy, I don't think about all of those sad days I had before you came along. The third time really was the charm, and my luck has changed.

It's hard to believe that just a year ago, you weren't quite walking yet. Now you zoom around. You can gallop! A year ago, you were still eating mostly mushy food, and now you can devour a good part of a rotisserie chicken on your own. A year ago, you only had a couple of words, and now you can say, "Look mommy, I have a new dress on!" You had a haircut the other day, and you told the woman you wanted to watch Elmo's World while she cut your hair, and you asked for an orange balloon when you were done.

In no particular order, your favorite things are coloring with markers, dancing, swinging on swings, digging in the garden and watering the plants with your watering can, taking care of your baby doll, and eating chocolate cake. You have a burgeoning interest in dressing up, with bracelets and sunglasses and you like to wear scarves as fancy skirts. You are really into Fancy Nancy right now, and I'm apprehensive of having a princess-diva-movie-star-child, but I went through a princess phase when I was little, and I still turned out (more or less) ok.

You're getting better at sharing and we're working on taking turns and not grabbing things from our friends. You have a surprising amount of empathy for others, and if someone is upset, you tilt your head, furrow your brow, and earnestly say, "Oh, it's ok," while giving them a reassuring pat on the shoulder. You also get embarrassed easily, a trait you probably inherited from me. If you fall or do something silly, like accidentally walk into a wall, you check to see if anyone saw you, and then you get mad. Trust me, I feel that way a lot.

You have a brand new baby cousin, and "He cute!" as you would say. Watching him sleep and cry and nurse and sleep all over again, reminds me of how tiny you once were and how little I knew. I remember wishing you could just tell me what you needed and wanting so badly to do everything right. I remember being amazed that people intentionally choose to have subsequent children. Now you can tell me exactly what you need, and I don't worry quite so much. We're getting pretty good at this stuff.

Penny, you are my little friend. I miss you when I'm away, and I melt when I come home, and you wrap your arms around my neck and say, "I miss you, Mama." I still check on you at night, before I go to sleep, to make sure your blanket isn't tangled and that you aren't jammed into the corner of your bed. When I see your sweet sleeping face in the dim light of your room, I have to resist waking you with a barrage of kisses. You will always be my baby.

Love,
Mom.

California Dreamin'

2010-04-30T22:28:00.007-06:00

Sometimes I dream of California, and I would live there, if we could afford it, and if I could get used to regularly occurring earthquakes, and if I wouldn't miss the dramatic seasonal changes we have here at home, although after the never-ending winter we've had, maybe I could do without the drama.

Our drive there and back was amazingly smooth, because I focused on keeping Penny fed and entertained. Oh, and we had the binky. She napped a little, but mostly colored pictures with her crayons, read books, sang songs, and talked to her dollies. We made a few pit stops so we could stretch our legs and keep our blood sugar up, and that was the golden ticket.

We stayed one night in Barstow, and were greeted the next day by the eye-popping colors of a state in full bloom. We stayed with my Aunt and Uncle, who graciously put us up in their house, and were treated to the excellent company of two of my cousins, some sight seeing, a trip to the aquarium, a picnic on the beach, and a family game night. It would be unthinkable to get together without playing games!

The weather was gorgeous, and it was fantastic to see the ocean again. Penny handled the beach a little better this time, but was still hesitant to walk on the sand, always keeping one eye on the crashing surf. Eventually, she walked a little on her own (but would not remove her shoes), and dug holes in the sand with some rocks. That's progress, anyway.

Oh yeah, and I worked a bit too, sort of. I attended a conference and it felt good to stimulate my brain and get back in the loop, chat with colleagues, and think about how to apply the things I learned to my job. Meanwhile, Britt and Penny got to spend a lot of time together, without me. (Thanks to my lovely cousin for taking so many beautiful pictures.)

I think they had a good time.

It's always hard to leave when you're having fun, knowing the daily grind is waiting for you at home. The drive back was less fun, but we made one last pit stop to see my good friend in Vegas, and it was a nice overnight respite (hello, hot tub!) before our reluctant return to reality.

I'm amazed at what Penny remembers from the trip. She can recount some of the things we did, like seeing the fish and playing with her cousins (whom she can name), Uncle's train set, the water of the ocean and the sand on the beach. It's all short-term memory recall, but I wonder if she will be able to store these details in her long term memory if we keep talking about them. I wonder how soon we can go back.

Twinkle, Twinkle.

2010-04-26T21:09:00.003-06:00

We're back from our trip and we've been busy trying to get caught up. We're also putting in a garden, which is a lot more labor-intensive than I thought it would be. Back-breaking is the correct term. I'm still trying to process all of the great things that happened during our travels, so while I'm doing that, there's this:

I like how she shoves the camera away, as though she's practicing for the paparazzi. Pay no attention to the colossal mess in the background, the mess that looks like the Easter Bunny was mugged, because we still have all of the Easter stuff out.

Coddled.

2010-04-11T22:29:00.005-06:00

This week, Penny is on an anti-dad campaign and it's making me feel bad. I know it is a phase, and I will probably be sad when I am no longer deemed her favorite, the Queen Mother. But it's getting a little old, hearing, "No, Daddy! Mama do it," again and again. Fortunately, Britt has rather thick skin, and isn't taking it too personally (whereas, if our positions were reversed, it would probably make me cry). He will come home and ask her for a hug, and she will reject him outright, only to turn around and smother me with affection. I'd like to think she's not doing it to hurt his feelings, but sometimes I wonder. "Daddy, way!" (Daddy, go away.) Since when do we get to make Daddy feel bad, Daddy, who would much rather be home, but works full time so I can be home as much as I am?

Actually, she's fine with Daddy as long as I'm not around. They have great times without me, which is another excuse for me to leave them to their own devices (and also means I can add sleeping in and going shopping by myself to the list of things I can do, so believe me, I'm not complaining). But when I'm home, she wants me to help her brush her teeth, to be the one to change her, to read stories to her. When I pick Penny up from Grandma's house, she will be fine, but as soon as she sees me, she starts whining. And we're talking about a stab-my-ears-with-a-screwdriver level of whining. I try not to give into the whining, because that's one thing that drives me crazy, but it is disheartening to know that my mere presence triggers it.

I was explaining Penny's recent behavior to a woman at work, and she asked if Penny is held a lot. I had to think about that, although I'm not even sure what she was getting at. Was she insinuating that Penny is coddled? I'm trying not to raise a spoiled child, now that I think about it, maybe Penny really is spoiled. She gets cuddled, picked up almost whenever she asks, and gets (almost) constant attention from an adult during the day. I'm trying to figure out if that's a bad thing, and I'm not sure it really is. If having a spoiled child is the worst thing to come out of our bumbling parenting attempts, I'll take it.

Sometimes I think the amount of adult attention she gets affects her ability to entertain herself, as I've mentioned before. It is a relief to go to her cousin's house, or a friend's house, so she can play with someone her age, and she plays pretty well with others. She is still negotiating that line between getting bullied (having toys taken from her) and bullying (taking whatever she wants), but as long as someone is there to referee, it doesn't go too far. So maybe we're ok.

And what does it mean to have a spoiled child? That she'll get a wake up call when she starts school and doesn't get her way all the time? Good, I say. Huzzah!

We're departing for San Diego this week, and I'll be attending a conference while Britt and Penny have adventures together. I think it will be good for them to spend time without me, and it will help Penny learn (as we already know) that Daddy is a hell of a lot more fun than Mommy.

Easter 2010

2010-04-09T00:06:00.006-06:00

This Easter brought intermittent snow showers that threatened to ruin any possibility of an enjoyable egg hunt, plus Penny came down with croup. She's never had croup before, and she's been coughing and hacking like an old man for a week. I didn't know such a small person could produce so much phlegm.

By Sunday morning, snow was covering the ground, so we passed the time with some indoor egg hunts while the snow melted, and I put Penny in a bright outfit, to encourage the arrival of some SPRING around here.

This year, I tried to be a little healthier with the Easter treats. Penny's basket contained some Annie's organic fruit snacks (which are bunny-shaped), raisins, a Hello Kitty tin purse (with pennies inside for the fountain at the library), a purple Slinky, and a plush bunny. Some of the eggs we hid contained jelly beans, but we tried not to overdo it. You should see this kid on a sugar rush. My friend Suzi sent me a link for a yummy-looking rice crispy treat recipe, which I will have to try next year.

By mid-morning, the snow was mostly gone, so we put on our sweaters and boots and headed outside.

As Penny's basket became laden with eggs, she started to drag it along, and wouldn't let anyone help her carry it, for fear of losing her colorful bounty. "No, MY eggs."

Later, we feasted on egg salad sandwiches, which were nearly as colorful as Penny's basket. Britt got creative and added Dijon mustard and kalamata olives to the mix. Tasty!

Failure to Thrive

2010-03-31T22:58:00.004-06:00

Ordinarily I try to stick to writing about Penny, but what kind of mommy blogger would I be if I didn't occasionally rant about something else? This week, Jamal, the baby giraffe at our zoo, died in his enclosure. He was 8 months old, and hadn't been growing, so the cause was determined to be "failure to thrive." When I read about it in the paper, my first response was shock, then sadness, then outrage. Why did this happen? Did they do everything they could? Why wasn't he growing at a normal rate? There will be a federal investigation into Jamal's death, which may or may not be conclusive.

I'm not an animal expert, so maybe I shouldn't criticize or point fingers. But I am a patron of the zoo. I have voted for initiatives to help fund projects and new enclosures for the animals. I'm glad I had the chance to see little Jamal this fall, and I'm sad that he's gone. His death is not helping me resolve my conflicting feelings about zoos. I'm not sure giraffes are suited for our climate, at least part of the year, so maybe we have no business turning them into attractions in the first place. I've never liked the concrete enclosure at our zoo, but is it realistic to demand a reproduction of an African savanna in the Rocky Mountains?

But in spite of all that, how does his mother feel? Does she miss him? As mammals, they must have bonded on some level, mother and baby. And what about this vague "failure to thrive" diagnosis? At first I didn't think it was a satisfactory answer. But then I started thinking about that really scary moment we had with Penny after she was born, when I thought she was nursing enough, but she wasn't, because my milk supply was practically nonexistent. I can see how the inability to grow properly could happen to anyone, even to giraffes.

I know animals die every day, in the wild, in captivity, in slaughterhouses across the country. Hell, I'm an omnivore, so I am responsible for the death of something, every day. But that doesn't mean I can't be sentimental about Jamal's death. That doesn't mean I can't question the circumstances or think more critically about how animals are treated.

Rest in peace, little guy. Thank you for giving me pause.

Opposites

2010-03-29T23:03:00.003-06:00

Here's a belated clip of Penny explaining opposites, based on (what else?) Baby Signing Time.

Yeah, that whole "you" and "me" thing is confusing. It reminds me of Smokey Bear, from The Simpsons: "You chose 'you,' referring to me. That is incorrect. The correct answer is 'you!'"

A World of No

2010-03-26T11:57:00.006-06:00

Lately I feel like a very negative person. I am constantly saying, "No" to my child. No, you can't climb on that. No, you can't have another cookie. No, we aren't going to the park. No, we're not reading that book again, it's time for bed. Sorry, you HAVE to brush your teeth. What a drag mommy is!

I'm trying to maintain my tenuous grasp on authority, which can be hard with a little Napoleon running around, competing for control. I'm the boss, and while we have a lot of fun, there's a limit to the fun, which is kind of depressing. It's a delicate balance. I don't want to fall into that trap of trying to be so cool and fun that all of the rules go out the window, and then suddenly I have a teenager getting into lots of trouble. But I don't want to sweat the small stuff, either.

Determining what is and isn't a big deal can be tricky. Playing with daddy for a few more minutes before bed? Not a big deal. Giving into obvious stalling attempts at bedtime, like extra drinks of water, or reading the same book 5 times? Slightly bigger deal. Demanding cookies before dinner? I don't think so.

Penny also thinks that if she says "please," especially in a cute or sorrowful way, then whatever she wants is a gimme. And she can be very hard to resist.

See?

Strangely, we haven't had any Time Out Situations for a while, and I'm not sure if it's because Penny hasn't felt like testing her limits lately, or if she's been able to communicate better, or what. She has thrown a couple of fits, but they don't last long. She pitched a fit today while we were at a friend's house, because she wanted to play with a jumper that was in pieces. I wasn't going to put it together (and she's probably too big for it anyway). She was very angry at me and there were tears, and then she was laughing and smiling again. But I can't shake the ominous feeling that the tantrums will only increase...

Penny is surprisingly obedient, for the most part. She doesn't stray away from me when we are out. She stays in the bathroom with me while I take a shower. My mom used to say that she never had to worry about me getting into too much trouble as a baby. She would say, metaphorically of course, that if I were put in a room with broken glass, that I wouldn't touch it. Penny is the same way - she's not very impulsive and her sense of self-preservation outweighs her curiosity. But she never wants to put her coat on. If I want her to run in the opposite direction, all I have to do is say, "It's time to put on your coat!"

Meanwhile, here are some other observations from the week:
1. Washable markers are a marvelous invention. Penny loves to color, preferably with markers, and as a result, she now knows 8 colors. She needs help getting the lids on and off, but she will ask me for the color she wants, so I can help her with the lid. She's pretty good about staying on the paper, but when she's not, that's where the washable part comes in. Brilliant.

2. Mr. Potato Head rules.

3. Every girl needs a couple of little cars. Penny has a friend who has lots of cars and trucks, and now Penny is interested in cars. I think that's a good thing, so I let her pick out a couple of Hot Wheels, and I even got one for myself.

4. Songs by They Might Be Giants are still entertaining. I have been stuck on this one for days:

Penny likes it too.

Feelings

2010-03-12T22:56:00.010-07:00

"Ing. Whee!"

A few months ago, I read an article about Emotional Quotient (EQ), which is like IQ, but pertains to the emotional side of intelligence and cognition. In other words, Emotional Intelligence is one's ability to assess and manage one's emotions, and some argue it might be more important than IQ. I am certainly not an expert in this area, and it is a facet of psychology that is not free from criticism. However, it seems rather important (to me) for a child to be sensitive about others' feelings and to be able to express how they are feeling themselves.

Penny has been thinking a lot about feelings lately. She used to laugh if she saw another kid crying or yelling or expressing an emotion, because it was unexpected, and (probably) genuinely funny. But now, if she overhears a baby crying, she says, with wide eyes, "Baby crying? Sad?" We were walking through a parking lot and overheard a woman yelling angrily into her cell phone. Penny looked at me for an explanation, and I told her the woman was mad. She thought about that for a little while, furrowed her brow, and said, "Mad." She saw a kid run into his sister with a shopping cart at the store, and overheard him apologize, saying it was an accident. So Penny has reviewed that incident several times at home, saying, "Elbow, cart. I sorry, ah-ee-dent."

She's also been giving human characteristics to inanimate objects. She grouped her blueberries together while she was eating them, saying the big blueberry was the daddy, and they were "walking" to the corners of her tray, because they were going "home." Later, she had two spoons, which were "dancing" and then "sleeping."

Anthropomorphism is not unfamiliar territory for me. As a child, I used to feel sorry for garbage in the trash, wondering if the discarded things were lonely in the bin. At restaurants, I used to pretend the salt and pepper shakers were getting married (the bride being the salt, obviously). This trait runs strongly in my family, so I suspect Penny has inherited the propensity for it. Or maybe she has a really good imagination? Maybe it is the same thing.

This may be related to the inordinate amount of time she has devoted to playing with her "House," which is the Fisher Price house my sisters and I had when we were little. I love that house. The garage door raises up and the doorbell is a little bell that really dings. Penny's little family of cats has moved in, so they have crazy adventures every day (which mostly involve sleeping and waking up), and I have to pry Penny from it to get her ready for bed.

Best toy ever, brought to you by the 1980s.

Other amusing things overheard this week:

"Oh, maaan!" (Heard at least 100 times).
"I hiding!"
"Ah want more cereal. Put milk in it."
"Uv you, mama."

It's getting really fun around here, and it almost makes me want to have another kid. Almost.

Kill Your Television...

2010-03-06T22:35:00.008-07:00

...Not really. I just wanted to see if anyone remembered that obscure 90s song from Ned's Atomic Dustbin. Lately I've been beating myself up about the amount of "screen time" Penny gets, if only because it was on my long list of things I wasn't going to do, that list I had in my head before I actually gave birth, along with having a binky and swearing and using disposable diapers.

I grew up in a house where we were only allowed to watch Public Television for many years, mostly because that was the only channel we got on our TV. There were the occasional Saturday morning cartoons, but otherwise, Sesame Street and the Electric Company and 3-2-1 Contact were all we watched, until my parents had more children and eventually got cable, and then the rules evolved.

I have more or less applied the same rule to Penny, which isn't too hard, considering we don't currently have cable or satellite. But I borrow DVDs from the library (and purchase the ones we like), hence Penny's obsession with Baby Signing Time. She also enjoys various Baby Einstein discs, Yo Gabba Gabba, the Classical Baby series, and Sesame Street. She watches something every day; and asks to watch it. Part of me says, well, that's all mostly educational stuff, and it doesn't have commercials. But then I read this, from the American Academy of Pediatrics:

It may be tempting to put your infant or toddler in front of the television, especially to watch shows created just for children under age two. But the American Academy of Pediatrics says: Don't do it! These early years are crucial in a child's development. The Academy is concerned about the impact of television programming intended for children younger than age two and how it could affect your child's development. Pediatricians strongly oppose targeted programming, especially when it's used to market toys, games, dolls, unhealthy food and other products to toddlers. Any positive effect of television on infants and toddlers is still open to question, but the benefits of parent-child interactions are proven. Under age two, talking, singing, reading, listening to music or playing are far more important to a child's development than any TV show. For more information on your child's health, visit www.aap.org.

And now I kind of feel like crap. The stuff I let Penny watch is still brain candy. But come on, in the real world, sometimes I need a minute. Sometimes it's the only way dinner is going to get made. In the real world, Penny picks up a new sign every time she watches "Baby Time," or sings a new song when she wakes up in the morning.

A friend of mine, a retired teacher with a lovely grandchild of her own, told me the rule she heard was limiting amount of "screen time" toddlers get to 2 hours a day, because the visual input of the TV (or computer) develops a different part of the brain, and kids need auditory input as well, not to mention the social interaction with a warm body instead of a warm screen (which might be what the AAP is getting at with the statement above).

So that's what I'm going to shoot for, because 2 hours actually seems like a lot (I should probably get her source on that). I'm not trying to make anyone else feel like crap. But I am curious to know if any of you had similar TV rules when you were growing up, or if you have applied any "screen time" rules to your own children? Have you been successful?

The Pet Store

2010-02-27T23:56:00.004-07:00

We had some time to kill the other day, so I thought I'd take Penny to the pet store across the street from the grocery store. As we were walking, I thought, "This could be a gigantic mistake, one I might live to regret."

The first thing we saw (and smelled) when we walked in the door, were two ferrets, running around their enclosure. Penny did a little happy dance and watched every animal with rapt attention. She was fascinated by the animals and is still talking about them, especially the "Nake," or snake. It's hard to hear her hissing and saying "Nake" over the microphone noise on the camera, which is what she's doing when she scrunches up her face and shows her front teeth:

(She's not picking her nose there at the end, that's just her sign for "bird.")

There weren't any dogs or cats at the store, except for the ones getting groomed. Otherwise, the store had miscellaneous animals for sale - rats, mice, snakes, fish, turtles, parakeets, frogs, scorpions, and other "pets" I would never consider having in the house, and one bunny. When we left, the ferrets were sleeping on top of each other in a furry pile. I wonder if future trips to the store will result in visits to the animals across the street.

In case you were wondering, we didn't buy anything, because we have enough creatures to care for at the moment. But I'm amazed by her language, and her grasp of the present tense. I suspect that soon Penny will start asking questions about how the world works, and I really hope I have the answers.

Leaving Las Vegas

2010-02-24T21:37:00.007-07:00

In our continuing efforts to make a seasoned traveler of our little one, we took Penny on a road trip to Las Vegas over Valentine's Weekend to visit some friends. It was wonderful to meet up, enjoy delicious food, go shopping, and relax. I love my girls. We've been friends for so long that getting together is one of my favorite things to do.

The weather in LV was so nice, it felt like early summer, and the consumption of mojitos added to that summer feeling. We also ate waffles with bacon IN THEM, at Hash House A Go Go. The portions there are larger than your head.

Behold, the Bacon Waffle. Served with powdered sugar.

Naturally, we were on vacation schedule, and Penny got to stay up pretty late, but by the end of the trip we noticed she wasn't eating much and she seemed a bit crabby. Well, she's probably worn out from all of the excitement, I thought.

When we were getting ready to leave, Penny said, "Sick," and pointed at her forehead, in an attempt to sign "sick" to me. I asked, "Are you sick?" and she didn't say yes or no, although she probably wasn't sure how to answer. So again, I thought she was just tired.

In her Valentine's finery, accompanied by a new friend.

Off we went, reluctant to leave, but ready to go home. As we drove, Penny became increasingly fussy, which we chalked up to being stuck in the carseat for another long drive. Britt stopped in Mesquite for a milkshake, so we ordered some french fries, thinking we could bribe Penny with them in the car. But she didn't want them, and she was adamant. That should have been another red flag, because the events that unfolded were a lesson in WHY YOU SHOULD LISTEN TO YOUR CHILD.

We were only a few miles out of Mesquite, when Penny's fussing turned to crying, and suddenly there was a horrible sound, followed by what I can only describe as a waterfall of vomit.

Poor baby. You know how when you get sick, you can pretty much identify the culprit, that item that didn't settle? Well, in this case, it was bananas.

Poor daddy.

Have I mentioned how much Britt hates bananas? He hates them with furious anger. Therefore, True Love is your husband mucking the banana sick out of the carseat on the side of the road, while you sit on the tailgate, trying to clean banana sick off your toddler (and yourself).

Poor mommy.

We were still at least 4 hours from home. I won't describe the way the car smelled, but I was actually grateful she threw up something fruity and not something else, something savory, like chili. However, Britt's hatred of bananas has increased exponentially.

Penny felt so relieved, she slept for a while, and we managed to get home, as the warm weather turned to cold rain mixed with snow. Penny was sick for the rest of the week. She was lethargic and seemed depressed, and didn't want to do anything. She didn't throw up again, but she had diarrhea for three days, and I started to worry about dehydration, which prompted a call to the doctor.

Then, as quickly as it came on, Penny was back to her old self, running and playing and laughing and TALKING. We've had a language explosion around here. Gee, I'll take streams of words over banana sick any day, thanks. And in a way, it seems like the whole experience made for a more authentic road trip, because it wouldn't be a family trip without someone getting sick, right? Or was that just my childhood?

Lovely, Love My Family

2010-02-18T00:39:00.004-07:00

We were in Las Vegas for Valentine's this year (more on that later), and this song has been repeating itself in my head. Yo Gabba Gabba! continues to be one of Penny's favorite shows (second only to Baby Signing Time), and she insists on watching the "Family" episode over and over and over...mostly because she loves Baby GoGo.

Here's Lovely, Love My Family, by The Roots:

Happy Belated Valentine's Day to you and your sweethearts!

21 Months Old

2010-02-08T14:53:00.015-07:00

Dear Penny,

Hello, my Sweet Baboo. My mom used to call me that and I think it's a Charlie Brown reference.

We are hurtling toward age 2 faster than a speeding tantrum, and we've been navigating some time out situations. You haven't had to spend much time in purgatory, yet. You have been saying "Yes" more often and I love to hear that word after so many months of "No." Your favorite book right now is The Elephant and the Bad Baby, which was one of my favorites when I was little (which is why your Auntie M bought it for you). You laugh when we read it because that Bad Baby is pretty funny, and your favorite picture is at the end, when everyone gets to eat pancakes, even the Elephant. Speaking of pancakes, you love to eat yours with jam.

Um, we're going to need some more jam over here.

At dinnertime, you like to eat what we eat (usually), and you like to say "Cheers!" and clink your cup against our glasses. And then you say, "More Cheers!" and we do it again.

You and Daddy are becoming good friends. Not that you weren't already, but I have been in the Number One spot for a long time now, and you are starting to realize that your daddy is pretty cool. You and he were playing with your blocks the other day, and you were telling him all of the words for the pictures on the blocks. He thinks you are amazing. You are the reason he works so hard, and you are the reason his eyes sparkle when he gets home. Sometimes he looks at me, shakes his head, and says, "How did she get so cute? Where did she come from?"

Sometimes I think Daddy is more fun than I am. For one thing, he gives you rides around the house in the laundry basket.

Who will push me?

Daddy will! Vroom!

You love to go to dance class, although you still prefer to watch the other kids before jumping in. You remember things from class and do them at home. Last week you got to hold a pretty leaf in each hand and pretend to be a tree, growing tall, swaying in the breeze, and shaking your leaves. You are an adorable little tree. Today, you spent most of class running back and forth in front of the mirror, with your tongue out, like so:

The best night of the week is when your Aunties and your Uncle P come over to play with you and eat dinner with us. You shriek with joy when they walk in the door. Last weekend was Auntie A's birthday, and you have been singing "Happy Birthday" ever since. I have stopped counting your words because you have well over 100 and I can't keep track anymore. Your best new word is "Awefum," otherwise known as "Awesome."

You are an affectionate little one and it makes my heart melt when you give hugs to your friends and family. You like to hold your cousin's hand when you walk together.

My life would be so dreadfully, painfully dull and lonely without you. I am so lucky to have you. You will always be my baby.

Love,
Mom.

Salad Days

2010-02-01T15:40:00.010-07:00

February begins with me trying to decide how big the binky issue really is, since I seem to be the one who is bugged by it. Is it really that terrible? Not in the grand scheme of things. Show me a child who doesn't have an overbite. Am I naive to think that Penny will one day decide that the binky is not satisfying and be done with it forever? Probably. Should I be so uptight about something that brings her comfort? I have no idea.

Sometimes I fear it WILL be a big issue if I don't do something about it now. But I am all talk and no action, in case that wasn't already painfully clear. Something will have to happen to make me say, "That's it, no more binky," and that hasn't happened yet. My doctor gave me a deadline of age 2 to get rid of it, and I am the ultimate procrastinator.

Meanwhile, Penny's had yellow goo coming out of her nose for a week and I'm wondering about a possible sinus infection. The humidifier is in full swing, but a call to the doctor may be in order. The lovely doctor I don't want to disappoint in May when we go for Penny's 2 year check-up, after we've killed and buried Binky.

Here's a parenting news flash: I've discovered if Penny gets a snack before her nap, she sleeps longer and isn't famished when she wakes up. Eureka! Duh! Our "routine" seems to constantly evolve, depending on what time Penny wakes up (which is anywhere between 7-9 a.m., depending on the day). Oh, those 9:00 mornings are heavenly, but so rare. Usually the culprit on the early mornings is Britt, who has to get ready for work, and who can't help thundering around the house a bit in the process. He wears work boots and we have squeaky floors.

Penny did this, and then tried to feed them milk from her cup.

Still, I look at Penny and marvel at what she understands, and what she can do. I think back to where we were a year ago, and I remember teething, sleep training, separation anxiety, and my own anxiety, as a result of all of those things. These truly are salad days in comparison. And I've been a parent long enough now to know that the binky issue will be resolved at some point, because that's just how things work.

Rhymes with "Sock."

2010-01-25T22:08:00.006-07:00

I came down with stomach flu this weekend, which left me weak and ill-humored. Blech. Britt came to the rescue and took care of everything while I stayed in bed, and Penny stopped in periodically to check on me, and patted me reassuringly on the head. She has learned the sign for sick, and says, "Sick," while jabbing me pointedly in the forehead.

Last night we all slept horribly. My stomach still hurt, and Penny woke up at least 3 times, crying out in the middle of the night. This morning, she had a yucky nose, so she's either cutting more teeth, or she has a cold. Today I felt a bit better, but I'm sorry to say that Penny's persistent demands tried my patience. The incessant, "Mommy? Mommy? MomMEE!" was a bit much. My fear is that we do such a good job entertaining her, for the most part, that she can't (or won't) play by herself, because that's not as fun. But there are times when I just can't do it, and that makes me feel crappier than the worst case of stomach flu.

Penny: "Ride?"
Me: "Mommy can't give you a ride, Mommy's sick."
Penny: "Sick." (Jabs me in the forehead).
Me: "That's right."
Penny: "Ride?"

Meanwhile, she's jumped from 2 word utterances to 3 word phrases, although she's probably only intelligible to us. "More biscuit, please," and "Wash your hands!" are music to my ears. But repeating everything you hear has a downside:

Penny's also been singing a song, a song which uses a word I'm not going to type here because I don't want this site to pop up that much on certain browser searches. Let's just say, the word is also the word for a rooster, and we have no idea why Penny is saying it so much. I blame Britt, because he's the one who's been going around the house singing about a "Cockney Geezer," in the spirit of "The Mighty Boosh," and I'm pretty sure that's where she got the idea for her new song. And he still sings his song, despite my "icks-nay on the ock-ney eezer-gay!" because frankly, that song is about a scary hitchhiker who stabs people, and toddlers don't need to hear that, no matter how humorously it is sung.

But Penny also just learned the "5 Little Ducks" song, so she could just be walking around quacking, and it just comes out...that way. "Quack, quack, quack, quack!"

The Fun Never Stops

2010-01-19T21:34:00.002-07:00

It's (probably) a scientific fact that other people don't find your kid as cute as you do. Especially kids with dirty faces behaving obnoxiously. But baby laughter is like a drug for me, and Penny laughs like Fat Albert.

Of course I would never encourage this behavior in public.

Discovery

2010-01-17T22:33:00.006-07:00

This week we had an adventure at the Children's Museum with Penny's cousin. Minus 100 points for me for forgetting to bring my camera. But, it was really fun. My hat's off to Penny, I think her attention span is longer than mine. She spent ages in one place and didn't want to move onto the next exhibit, even though I was ready to. I just wanted her to have the chance to see everything! Ooh, Penny! Look over here! Penny, look at this! Earth to Mom: Follow Penny's lead.

When you first walk in, there's an exhibit called "The Garden" where kids can put balls in tubes, some of which are pneumatic, so you can watch the balls get sucked into the air. Penny LOVED it. But suddenly, we were surrounded by hordes of noisy children carrying balls and clamoring for the tubes and I started to get claustrophobic. One child fell over and knocked Penny down, who knocked another kid down, and it almost resulted in a baby domino catastrophe. I hastily plucked her out of the pile of children and we moved on to the next part, before she could protest too much.

The next part was amazing. The "Kid's Eye View" has a construction site, a house, a grocery store, and a farm, where kids can play to their hearts' content. Penny found a baby doll in the house and she pushed it around in a little stroller for the duration of our visit. I tried to direct her attention to the other parts of the museum, but she wouldn't have it.

Me: "Penny, do you want to go to the store?"
Penny: (pushing the stroller) "No."
Me: "Ooh, we can put things in the cart!"
Penny: (walking away) "No."
Me: "Penny, do you want to see the farm?"
Penny: (pushing faster) "No."
Me: "We can walk dollies at home!"

At one point, I wasn't sure she would leave the baby doll behind, and I wasn't looking forward to the impending discussion about how that baby wasn't ours and that it had to stay at the museum. Fortunately, she left it behind long enough to climb on something, and when we turned around, another child had absconded with the stroller. Whew, dodged that bullet.

My favorite part was the little mouse hole inside the play house, where you can peek inside and see a tiny mouse hideout with tiny mouse loot. Penny and her cousin also liked the little bird house, which had two toddler-sized couches and a play kitchen. They might have moved in permanently, if given the chance.

Little did we know, we chose an insanely busy day to go. We thought schools were still in session, but some kids were on break and others were there for a field trip. The noise was tremendous and we didn't even make it to the second level before both girls were overstimulated and cranky. So, we had some lunch and went home for a nap. Discovery is exhausting! Let's go again!

It's Dancey Dance Time!

2010-01-11T22:02:00.010-07:00

I will admit that taking Penny to "Mom and Tot" dance classes is a glorified excuse to relive my childhood. And I'm pretty sure all of the other moms in class are in the same boat. I took dance when I was little, from the time I was a toddler on up to third grade, until my family moved to a remote area in Wyoming where classes weren't available. In Kindergarten, I told everyone I wanted to be a Ballerina when I grew up. My dad took me to a performance of the Nutcracker even though it was some distance away and he had to pawn part of his coin collection to pay for the tickets. I will never forget that.

Needless to say, Penny is in dance. We've been twice so far, and Penny prefers to watch everyone else before she participates, which is just about the time the class moves on to a new activity. Then she gets upset, and says "More?" "MORE?" Today, she was mad when the class started flying around the room (flapping our arms like wings), because we were supposed to be sitting on our spots. So I carried her a bit and we flew together. When I put her down, she took off, flying and running and shrieking. She was the noisiest, craziest bird. And when that song ended and it was time to move on, she became upset again.

Next came the parachute. She likes to walk with it, shake it, make it go up and down, but she does NOT like to be underneath it. The other kids seem to love it, but not Penny. Today she went under for a minute, while the rest of the class waved to her and said, "Hi, Penny!" to which she firmly replied, "No." and got the hell out of there.

Getting warmed up before class starts.

The rest of the time, she looks at herself in the mirror. I can't say I'm surprised by any of this, based on what I have heard about Britt as a child. Apparently, he didn't like to sing in school, but he wanted everyone else to sing because he just wanted to listen. Evidently, he wouldn't tumble in a gymnastics class until everyone left and he could do it alone. He also likes to look at himself in the mirror. A lot. So when I told him about dance class today, he just laughed.

Reading is easier than dancing. For one thing, no parachutes are involved.

Meanwhile, Penny says, "Too?" when she wants us to do whatever she is doing. If she is playing, she says, "Mama, too? TOO?!" This is how our conversations go:

Penny: "Watch?"
Me: "Do you want to watch something?"
Penny: "Okay." (Pause) "Too?"
Me: "Do you want me to watch too?"
Penny: "OKAAAAY!" (Cackling).

If she is doing anything, she will tap her index finger and say, "Too?" That finger cracks me up. It's the most understated, demanding gesture ever. TAP, TAP, MOMMY. And I feel bad when I'm in the middle of something, like cooking dinner. If I can't join her game, she mournfully says, "Up? UP?" because she feels rejected. And yet, she can entertain herself amazingly well when it's time for bed. Hmmm.

Off to a Good Start

2010-01-03T23:38:00.005-07:00

2010 is already off to a great start. We've painted, we made up a new joke, and we've had our first Time Out.

Penny likes crayons and will use pencils and pens to draw (in the absence of crayons), but we branched out this weekend and tried the paints we got from our friends for Xmas.

The artist at work:

I think she's a natural.

Penny will now repeat anything we say, including "Dude," "Oh, Good God," and "Whoa, Mama!" In our efforts to curb the amount of swearing around here, I said something nonsensical, which she thought was hilarious, so I continued:

Me: "Oh, Griddlecakes!"
Penny: (Laughing hysterically). "More?"
Me: "Oh, Hammerpants!"
Penny: (Laughing). "More?"
Me: "Oh, Poodlefluff!"
Penny: (Giggling). "More?"

And we went on like that. But later, she thought it was funny to hit Daddy, and when I was getting her ready for bed, she kicked me in the solar plexus, and kicked me AGAIN, even after I told her not to. After the third strike, Time Out ensued.

It shouldn't surprise you to know that I had been reading up on this so I would be fully prepared for a Time Out Situation (TOS). Britt and I discussed it ahead of time and we decided we didn't want the time out location to be in her room, or in her bed. We decided the best place would be to have her sit against the wall in the living room, away from anything that might be tempting to play with. I said, "You're going to time out because you kicked Mommy," had her sit in the designated spot, and watched the clock for 1 minute. We gave her our most serious and stern faces to show we weren't kidding. She was quite entertained by the notion of sitting against the wall and saw fit to giggle through the whole minute. When time out was over, we continued getting ready for bed, and guess what happened? She KICKED ME and she LAUGHED.

So. Time Out #2 ensued, with a stern lecture about how it wasn't funny, not funny AT ALL. We don't kick, because that hurts and it isn't nice. Oh, but Penny thought it was highly amusing. Time Out #2 ended (we went for 2 minutes this time, because she is almost 2 years old), I proceeded to put on Penny's pajamas, when she KICKED ME AGAIN.

Time Out #3 was swiftly executed, with Britt and I busying ourselves in the room, ignoring the giggling toddler who was really enjoying this new spot on the floor. Fortunately, she did not kick me again. But when I was getting her tooth brush ready, I noticed she left her room and was sitting in the Time Out Spot of her own volition, merrily kicking her feet and talking to herself. It's her new favorite spot. Oh, we are so screwed.

I have to admit, I almost laughed during Time Out #1, because she was so entertained by our feeble attempt at punishment, and our little troublemaker looked so cute sitting there. See? That's how they get you. Britt and I looked at each other and read each other's minds. We couldn't laugh or show any signs of weakness. We were SERIOUS, dammit. But the second and third times, it wasn't funny, and it made me realize this discipline thing isn't going to be easy.

It's going to be a long year. When does old fashioned guilt start working?

'Tis the Season

2009-12-29T22:30:00.006-07:00

Best. Christmas. Ever.

This year, I truly felt like Santa, and that was an incredible feeling. I wonder if this is how my parents felt when we were kids? Because this is pretty damn fun. When I was little, I remember lying in my bed, too excited to sleep, watching the numbers on the clock. In the morning, I would run past the living room, covering my eyes, trying my best not to peek at the presents Santa left out so I could see if my sisters were awake, so we could all be surprised together.

This Christmas Eve, I went to bed feeling tired but excited, much like I felt as a child, lying there, too wound up to sleep. When Penny woke up in the morning, she was surprised (and a little baffled) by what was waiting for her:

(Note: The toy box is a present from Santa to ME.)

Penny's too young to understand that Santa brings presents - right now, she knows he has a beard and looks a little like Opa, but he's otherwise a scary stranger. But next year, she might be ready for the whole Santa thing. And as fun as that is, I hope she won't be too disappointed later, once she is old enough to know the whole story. As an 8 year old, I remember feeling disillusioned when I discovered the truth. And disillusionment is a strong emotion.

Now that I'm a parent, I can understand why traditions are passed on. I want Penny to feel the same level of excitement I felt when I was little, waiting for morning to come, running to wake my sisters, so we could empty our stockings and read our notes from Santa, who always wrote something sweet, who seemed to know us so well. And I want the same for Penny, not just so I can relive those feelings from my childhood (which is nice and all), but so the creation of those magical moments can continue, for a little while.

All of the Santa stuff aside, this is the time of year when we can eat, drink, and be merry. Our family was all together, and Penny made out like a bandit. We were also able to catch up with some friends we haven't seen for a while, which is always a good thing.

I always feel sad when Christmas ends. It's a lot more fun to decorate the tree than it is to take it down. The Christmas hype begins in October, but ends promptly once the last present is unwrapped. Compared to the frivolity of December, January seems like "the New Cruelty," as a friend of ours just said today. But we'll leave the tree up a while longer, because that's another family tradition.

What Her Mama Gave Her, etc.

2009-12-23T23:51:00.001-07:00

I see either a band geek or a rock star in the making. It's a fine line.

Must Be Santa

2009-12-20T23:41:00.006-07:00

Ok, so I'm officially in a Christmas-y state of mind. Last week, Britt phoned from the local Union office to say there were still kids in need of presents on the Angel Tree. One of them was a 2 year old boy who needed diapers and a ball. That alone almost made me cry. But there was also a 5 year old girl who wanted a baby doll. How could we not help her?

We've donated to charities in the past, but this year, I felt an urgency to help that I haven't felt before. Maybe it's because I thought about a little boy about Penny's age who didn't have a ball to play with. So Penny and I went to the toy store, and Britt contacted his co-workers to see if anyone could donate to the cause. He had pledges of $60 by the end of the day, and with money from us and Penny's grandma (who also felt compelled to help), we were able to get several things.

I'm not writing this to brag or increase my sense of self-importance. I'm writing because it felt good and important to help, and we didn't do it alone. In a way, I felt guilty for not doing something like this sooner, back when Britt and I were both working full time and theoretically had more money.

Meanwhile, in my quest to find dolls, I was overwhelmed by the girls' section at the toy store. It's a plethora of neon pink and purple and glitter and it's frightening. Penny's eyes widened as we walked down the aisles, because a new world was opened to her - a world of Barbies and Ponies and Princesses. I walked quickly and tried not to linger too long over anything, and then I felt like a hypocrite, trying to protect Penny from this world. Because I had Barbies and Ponies growing up and half of my life was spent dreaming of being a princess. It's inevitable. And then I rebelled against the princess mentality, so hopefully that's inevitable too.

Can I tell you a secret? Shh, don't tell Penny, but I can't wait for her to open her present from Santa:

(Image from HearthSong).

Wow, speaking of pink...
I ordered this from Hearth Song. Penny loooves babies. She still lugs my old Cabbage Patch doll around, like a cavewoman dragging her prey back to her lair, and still whacks herself in the face with its large plastic head, so this one will be more proportional. And she can put little Penelope Peapod in her basket/bed, which cinches up to allow for easy carrying.

I can't wait!

But that's another interesting thing. Why does Penny love babies so much? She gravitates to her dolls a lot more than any of her other toys. I'm not ready to propose that gender roles are totally innate, but it will be intriguing to see how her interests evolve. How much will she be effected by me, in an effort to share with her all of the toys I loved as a child (Barbies and Ponies and Legos included)? What limits will I impose? That she can have a Barbie, but it has to be the one most sensibly dressed?

Let's just take it one Xmas at a time.

The Way We Get By

2009-12-11T23:36:00.008-07:00

Penny and I like go swimming at the community pool on my days off. We go with our friend LC and her daddy, and we try not to think about the amount of pee that must cycle through the pool, but that's what chlorine is for, right? The pool isn't too crowded this time of year, and it has a fun section just for kids, with water features and a slide. As an added bonus, it's good exercise for me, because I'm the one lifting a 25lb toddler in and out of the water.

The first time we went, Penny didn't like the water features, which were spraying water in all directions, and she clung to me like a little monkey baby. But with each consecutive visit, she has gotten more brave and will walk around in the shallow end, let me hold her and swim around, kicking her legs and moving her arms. Our friend LC's dad taught us some of the songs they learned in swim lessons, and that makes it even more fun. There's a version of Ring Around the Rosy that involves, kicking, splashing, blowing bubbles in the water, and finally, dunking our heads underwater. And the dunking isn't too bad, because of the singing!

One of the more challenging aspects is showering in the locker room with a monkey baby. We stand there, shivering, while I try to get the temperature right. Then she gets all slippery and doesn't like the spray of the shower hitting her, but she doesn't want me to put her down on the floor. There are many comedic moments that occur behind the shower curtain. I'm usually more concerned with getting her dried off and dressed than covering myself up, so there's much streaking to the lockers, because if I walk really fast, no one will be able to see me. The last time we were there, I didn't get a diaper back on Penny in time, so I ended up using my towel to mop up the little yellow puddle she left by our locker.

When we are not at the pool, we go to Story Time at the library, where we learn even more songs and check out new books. Story Time is a lot less time consuming because it doesn't involve changing clothes, showering, or streaking.

Meanwhile, Pen has become more defiant in recent days. I know she is testing her limits, but she's been outright disobedient. She had a meltdown last weekend over the binky, and was so screechingly furious it almost resulted in a time-out situation. I was able to defuse things by distracting her with reading and rocking, but I think we might be headed for a real, honest-to-god-TIME-OUT in the near future. And that makes me a little sad, but it is inevitable, right? How else are kids supposed to learn what isn't acceptable behavior? I guess I'm uncomfortable because this is uncharted territory, this discipline stuff. Penny usually listens to me, but lately, seems to NOT hear me. I don't want to be a hard-ass, but I think it is important to be firm. Can you be firm and sympathetic at the same time?

Confessions of a Binkyholic

2009-12-02T22:47:00.008-07:00

This binky thing is getting out of hand. We had rules for it, but they have been bent so far I'm not sure they should even exist. Penny mournfully requests her "Dinky" anytime she is bored, frustrated, or insulted. If she trips and falls, she says, sadly, "Dinky?" And I say, "No, you don't need it right now," and then I do a tap dance to distract her. Ta-Da! Sometimes it actually works! And sometimes it FAILS. Sometimes she walks right over to the diaper bag and starts rummaging for it. Other times I honestly don't have it on me and she has to tough it out. If we are in the car, for example, I might have to sing "Row Your Boat" 100 times to keep her mind off of Dinky.

I know it is time to part ways with Dinky, but the thought of sleep training (again) exhausts me. I keep giving myself little deadlines. At 18 months, we'll sleep train without the binky. After Christmas, we'll lose the binky for good, etc. We have been so spoiled by a baby who falls asleep happily and quickly with her binky. I have thought about cutting the end off of it, but I'm afraid to see Penny's reaction. Will she feel utterly betrayed? Will I be the meanest mommy who ever lived? She will know it was I who mutilated Dinky. Maybe the Dinky will just have an unfortunate accident and disappear. :(

In the meantime, I have been trying to reestablish the rules, by which I mean RULE, because there is only one. Dinky only gets used for sleeping. If Penny is insistent, I sing her favorite songs or change the subject.

We had a stand off the other day. She wanted a piece of bread, but had her binky in her mouth (Note: she wasn't sleeping). I told her she could have it if she gave me the binky. She stood there with the binky in one hand (held away from me) and her other hand outstretched for the bread. We literally stared and shook our heads at each other for 5 minutes. Finally, she relented and I put Dinky away.

To complicate matters, she gets a binky at Grandma and Grandpa's, who feel it is ok for her to be attached to it and don't feel like fighting her. They really think it is a phase, and I agree. But, it is only going to get harder from here. The other day I saw a child at the store who looked to be at least 4 and SHE HAD A BINKY. I thought, "That could be Penny, it really could."

Today wasn't so bad. She didn't ask for it very much, and when she did, she said, "Dinky? Nap?" So I put her down for a nap and she was happy. But the day is coming, I know it is, and it will be hard for all of us.

On a cuter note, Penny plays a game we call "Penny's Discotech." She pushes the button on her musical stacking toy, picks up a dolly, and dances to the music.

Must. Videotape.

Giving Thanks

2009-11-30T22:47:00.008-07:00

Thanksgiving has come and gone, but before things get crazy with tinsel and lights and carols, I just wanted to say (while it is still technically November) we had a nice weekend with our families and I didn't want it to end. Penny's Auntie Em and her Opa came to be with us, and we spent some time with Britt's family as well. I think I ate my body weight in carbs, and I might have to get out some maternity pants to wear for the next couple of weeks.

When I was little, my family had a tradition where we feasted like kings at my grandparents' house. Grandpa always made pies for dessert, and Grandma made caramel brownies and rice krispie squares with chocolate frosting *drools*. After we had digested somewhat, we'd eat some more and play our favorite games, like Scrabble and Rage.

Thanksgiving changed drastically for us when my grandparents died. For a while, we tried to improvise, but it wasn't the same, and I'm not sure my expectations were realistic. Then my mom died, and we had to figure out how to carry on without her. This continues to be the problem with any holiday, really. Do we stick to the same script, or write a new one? We've had to adapt, which is hard, but my family still gets together, to eat and laugh and reminisce. My Thanksgiving Tradition is to make Grandma's caramel brownies, which are typically devoured over games, which go late into the night. And that makes me happy.

On Thanksgiving Day, I thought about things for which to be thankful. The first things I thought of were Penny, Britt, and my family. Then I thought of my friends. Then I thought about how much I hate our tiny kitchen, but at least we have one, and a house to live in as well. I'm glad I have a job I actually like. I'm grateful that Britt goes to work every day, even though he doesn't always want to.

As much as I hate to admit it, I'm starting to get excited for Christmas, mostly because now we have a reason to start some new traditions, and her name starts with "P," or "Eee," as she says, because she thinks every letter is the letter "E." Penny will be old enough to help us decorate the tree, and there are many treats I want to attempt to make. I'm already tired of the music, though.

Zoo Babies

2009-11-23T00:05:00.008-07:00

A couple of weeks ago, we took advantage of the sunshine and went to see the new babies at the zoo. Our local zoo has a new baby elephant, a baby giraffe, 3 baby tigers, and a baby colobus monkey, among others. Penny was keenly aware of the animals this time, unlike our last visit, when she was only a few months old and slept most of the way around the park.

(Colobus Monkey family with their newest arrival.)

This time Penny had a strong affinity for the monkeys, and now she talks about "key-keys" all the time. She "draws" them on her doodle pro thingy, and asks me to draw them as well: "Key-Key? Key-Key?"

The main attraction is Zuri, the new baby elephant. I was watching Zuri interact with her mom and it was pretty fascinating—Zuri is still nursing and likes to play. She is still a little awkward on her legs and it's amusing to watch her raise her little trunk. Her mama is Christie, and Zuri gestated for 22 months(!). She weighed 251 lbs at birth and even has her own blog. Meanwhile, while we were watching them, mama Christie was trying to pull apart/eat her enclosure, and that got me thinking about how I feel about zoos in general.

(I'm not sure there's anything cuter than a baby elephant.)

On one hand, it's a great educational opportunity. Penny was really interested in the animals and would not be talking about Key-Keys so much if she hadn't seen them in real life. But I have mixed feelings about animals in captivity. I remember loving the zoo when I was little, but when I got older, I started wondering how the animals felt and if they were happy.

(Baby Giraffe, who gestated for 15 months...and who stood on his legs an hour after he was born.)

I truly believe our zoo has been trying to improve the habitats to help make the animals as comfortable as possible, and I noticed some vast improvements compared with what I remembered as a child.

(Baby Tigers! Their mama was sleeping some distance away.)

But I also wondered how the animals feel about the end of fall, with the changing leaves, and cooler temperatures. It's snowing like crazy now, so I'm thinking about baby Zuri while the snow falls. I hope she's warm enough tonight. I'll have to check her blog tomorrow to find out how she's doing.

18 Months Old

2009-11-11T23:31:00.008-07:00

November, 6, 2009

Dear Penny,

How did I end up with an 18 month old? Where did the time go? I keep saying time is passing so quickly, and it's true. Sometimes when I hold you I think about how big you have gotten and someday, you won't fit in my lap anymore. That thought makes me feel a little sad, so I don't dwell on it for very long. For now, I love to hug and cuddle you. I still rock you a little before you go to bed, and we have an inside joke: Either you or I will start making a funny croaking sound in the back of our throats, and we take turns making each other giggle.

You are so much fun! If you had told me a year ago that motherhood was THIS enjoyable, I might have been skeptical. Not that I wasn't having any fun. But I worried about everything, all the time. Now I feel more relaxed and confident in myself as your mom. You understand so much now. Your vocabulary is growing tenfold and you try to say ANY word we say. Today's exciting new word was "delicious," or "ish-ous." You are also putting two words together. Tonight you said, "Baby watch?" while signing "baby," because you love Baby Signing Time more than anything on the planet and you wanted to go watch it. You think every DVD should be BST and you get a little annoyed if anything else is on TV.

You know something like 14 body parts, and the best words you say are "ees?" (please) and "dank-o" (thank you). Your "please" is heart wrenching because you sign it too, and when you are really desperate for something, you say "ees?" in the most plaintive voice, and then I have no choice but to succumb to your request. Ah, your mom is such a sucker, isn't she?

We have started going to Story Time at the library, and you like to "read" to me while I get ready for work in the morning. You love to scribble on your Magnadoodle, and your scribbles are becoming more purposeful. You like to "cook" while I make dinner, and you have picnics for your dollies using the plastic food from your shopping cart. You are always talking about something, although I think your primary language is Ewok.

You had fun on Halloween, except for the pumpkins. You really don't like pumpkins. We tried to get some fall portraits taken with your cousin, but when we got to the photo studio, they had fake pumpkins as part of the backdrop. You decided right then that you were not going to sit next to those pumpkins and there was NO WAY you were going to get your picture taken without clinging to me and crying. So, we went to the bedding department and I took pictures of you with my cell phone. We saved a lot of money that day.

I still call you my baby, but that is a misnomer. You are a toddler, the very definition of the word. Sometimes you get mad if I don't do something immediately, and you stand rigid, shake your little fists and yell. We have days where every toy and book you own is off the shelf and there is food all over the floor, because things are a lot more fun to get out than to put away. But this is life with a toddler.

In spite of the messes and the mini-tantrums, you are becoming a beautiful little girl. You still fit in my lap, and you love to be cuddled and rocked. I fully and truly adore you. You will always be my baby.

Love,
Mom

Slapstick

2009-11-09T01:20:00.002-07:00

I consider physical humor to be the basest kind in existence, but I'm in the minority around here.

Slapstick from Be Like the Squirrel, Girl on Vimeo.

I wonder if Mummenschanz is hiring.

The 'Ween '09

2009-11-06T00:04:00.011-07:00

This Halloween, in honor of life in the Beehive State, we dressed in bee-themed costumes. I found cute costumes online for myself and Penny, and Britt wore his coveralls with an actual beekeeper's hat and veil, which I bought from a local bee supply place. I consider it an investment, because who knows? Maybe someday we will have an apiary. It could happen!

Damn, those tights are cute.

I tried to get all Martha Stewart and do my hair in a beehive, but that didn't work, as my hair is not really long enough. But I DID make my own little bees out of yellow and black pipe cleaners (using white ones for the wings), which we attached to my costume and Britt's hat. Take THAT, Martha. Unfortunately, in the craziness that unfolded on Halloween, we neglected to get a picture of the three of us in our bee attire. Photo Op FAIL!

Ummm...hi.

We went to Penny's cousin's house, so they could trick-or-treat together:

(Penny's cousin, and her Uncle David, before the fun had even begun).

I mentioned before that Penny is easily frightened by things, things like pumpkins and elevators. She completely freaked at the sight of a pair of those Groucho Marx glasses, so I wasn't sure how she was going to handle seeing people in costume, coming right up to the door, shouting for candy. But once she got the concept of putting candy in other kids' buckets (fun!), and went to a couple of houses and got candy for HER bucket (REALLY fun!), things were a little less scary.

Our terribly frightening pumpkins.

A word about candy. Don't get me wrong, we love dessert around here, but candy is not really something we keep in the house as a general rule, because if we did, I would eat it all day long. I was naively hoping to keep Penny in the dark as far as the existence of candy is concerned (Have some delicious apple slices!). But my best made plans were laid to waste, because she would catch me or Britt sneaking some candy on the side, and would request it. And not wanting to be hypocrites, we would share with her, so now she's developed a taste for Reese's Pieces. When she got home, she meticulously took the candy out of her bucket and put it back in, over and over, all the while not realizing or caring that it was edible, which was a relief. And I have to say, most of her candy was crap. Come on, where's the good stuff? There were no Reese's Pieces in sight.

I just thought of a story I heard about my first Halloween as a baby. My parents were destitute college students, and I was 4 months old, so they taped a bunch of leaves to my pajamas and took me around their neighborhood, so they could get some candy. Isn't that desperately sad, and funny?

Suspiciously eyeing the dry ice, which was "Na Arie." (Not scary.)

The girls came back from their trip around the neighborhood, and then Britt and I made an undramatic exit so we could attend our grown-up party. Penny's Aunt and Uncle graciously offered to let Penny sleep over, so we wouldn't have to worry about driving back across town at a very late hour to wake her (and them) up. I wasn't sure I would be able to handle having Penny away from us all night, but she had a blast with her cousin. And we had a blast with our friends. When we picked Penny up in the morning, she had slept through the night, and had already eaten pancakes for breakfast. Her toenails were even painted bright red, so it must have been one exciting sleep-over.

It's the most wonderful time of the year...

2009-10-23T23:34:00.008-06:00

Can you tell I'm slightly excited for Halloween?

This year, we have plans...to go OUT. I'm struggling with a tiny bit of guilt for plotting to go to a party for GROWN UPs. The plan is to take the little one around to friends' houses, so Penny can practice the fine tradition of begging for candy, and then we're going to take her to Grandma and Grandpa's, so they can Trick or Treat together in their neighborhood and put her to bed at their house, while we are out having FUN. I'm not ready for Penny to spend the whole night away from us, so we'll sneak in to take her back home after the party. What could possibly go wrong with that plan?

I've been wanting to get into Halloween more than in years past, partially because Penny is getting older and can understand more things, sort of. She doesn't really know that candy exists yet, and she dislikes Jack O'Lanterns. Also, she can't say "Trick Or Treat," but maybe people will accept her very polite "Please?" Which sounds like "Eeees?"

But the truth is, I have always loved this holiday, because it is the one time of year when it's ok to pretend to be someone you're not. As someone who has only recently accepted the person she's become, this holiday holds a considerable amount of significance for me. My mom, the creative genius, used to come up with the most amazing ideas for costumes. She would start by asking us what we wanted to be, and then try to make our ideas come to life, using ordinary items, or by sewing costumes for us. It wasn't until I was an adult that I actually paid money for a store-bought costume. An adult who can't sew and whose creative genius of a mother has died. But this is not meant to be a sob story.

I distinctly remember my costumes over the years, from the various incarnations of Princess Leia, to the Gypsy Woman whose identity I assumed to attend my first teenage Halloween party. Some of the more outstanding costumes made for my sisters were the Swiss Army Knife, the Sandwich, the Alligator, and the Spider, which was hand-sewn with the right number of legs and lots of googly eyes.

But the first Halloween I remember well was when I was in Kindergarten. I wanted to be a fairy princess, so my mom used my dance recital costume and made wings and a crown out of leftover Christmas tinsel. Penny's Aunt Meg was only 2, so we were Fairy Princesses together, naturally. Our wands were wooden mallets from our toy xylophone with tinsel around them. The best part was the Halloween costume parade at school. I remember walking down the street with the other kids in my class, feeling so proud and so beautiful, just like a real fairy princess.

We've upheld the fine tradition of pumpkin carving, another talent of my mom's. We carved pumpkins at our friends' house this weekend, and feasted on roasted pumpkin seeds, which Penny devoured. She was fascinated by the pumpkins, but did not enjoy the sight after that first incision, when the top of the pumpkin is pulled away from rest, complete with pumpkin goo and innards dangling from the stem. No, she did not like that one bit. Later, she was entertained by the pumpkin's face, because she likes faces, but did not like to see it lit, in the dark, with its glowing eyes.

So we've been having discussions about things that are "not scary." She will be babbling about something, then stop, and look at me with the most sincere and serious expression on her little face, shake her head, point her finger, and say "No, Nair-ie." Nope, that's not scary. Not really, baby.

Nesting Doll

2009-10-16T23:25:00.001-06:00

Sorry for the "shaky cam" on this one, I was holding the doll with my right hand and trying to operate the camera with my left. Penny prefers to see what's going on behind the screen of the camera, so she's been hard to film lately.

The littlest doll is her favorite, obviously.

Communication

2009-10-15T23:16:00.006-06:00

Time keeps on slipping (slipping, slipping) into the future, and things around here are better than ever. Communication is getting easier all the time - when Penny asks for something, I can understand her, which she thinks is the greatest thing ever, to be finally understood, and I think it's great that she is communicating, and I get all excited, and then she gets more excited, so it's a nice little positive feedback loop. She's been trying to say everything we say, and sometimes she comes pretty close. Other times, she's not even speaking the same language, but has what we call in the business, "pattern perception," which means she gets the number of syllables right. It's so exciting for a speech nerd like me.

Speaking of nerdy speech things, I've been keeping track of the words Penny uses consistently (of COURSE I do!) and she has 50 words and 16 signs. The kid blows me away, and pretty soon it will be impossible to keep track of everything she says. Her "b" sounds are all "ds." So, "belly" is "de-yee," "buckle" is "duck-oh," "baby" is "deedee." And her favorite thing in the world, her binky, is "dink-dink." For which she will plaintively wail, when she's tired: "DINK-DINK!" (Yes, we still use the binky for sleep). She will say "Wok," and then I have to figure out if she's talking about her sock, a rock, or going on a walk? I can usually guess correctly, and she's thrilled, but I have the feeling Britt and I are going to be the only ones who understand her for a while. Meanwhile, she understands everything.

Don't read the opinion section, it will only make you angry.

And she can sing! And she follows commands! Penny can throw trash in the garbage or put clothes in the laundry basket when I ask. She's become my slave! And her songs sound like actual songs! She hums the alphabet to herself in the car, and when she's sleepy, she will hum the lullaby we sing to her every night. She doesn't have the words, but she has the notes and the inflection (what's the musical term for that?), and it's so sweet to hear.

Other things Pen likes to do:
Playing dress up with my shoes, and any other article of clothing (including underwear) she can put around her neck.
"Cooking" and feeding her menagerie of dollies and animals.
Stacking up towers of blocks or cups and knocking them down.
Taking apart the nesting dolls and demanding I put them back together for her, x1000.
Playing "whispering secrets," which consists of her lying on the floor and us whispering things in her ear to make her laugh. I don't know why she has to lie on the floor, but she won't receive secrets any other way.
"Talking" on the phone, or her toy remote, which she thinks is a phone.

Penny unlocks the secret of the cannibalistic nesting dolls.

I get lonely in the car when she's at her Grandma's. I'm so used to hearing her jabbering, laughing and singing, that when she's not with me, I feel like something is missing. I miss her and the sound of her voice. She's my little friend, you see.

The Valley of the Goblins

2009-10-08T23:16:00.004-06:00

Goblin Valley is one of our favorite places on the planet, and it's practically in our back yard. In the spring and fall, the weather is perfect, so we try to go at least once a year. Our friends have a really cool pop-up trailer, and they invited us to join them on a little excursion into the Valley of the Goblins.

This trip to the desert was much smoother for Penny than our last venture. She's becoming more independent, so I didn't have a little monkey baby clinging to me the whole time. She also likes her friend Niels, who shares his trucks with her.

Heading into the trailer....

Goblin Valley is truly a geologic playground. We had a nice picnic lunch at the overlook after wandering around the hoodoos. Hoodoo? Youdoo.

Staying hydrated is key for survival in the desert.

Plans are in the works for a return trip soon. It will be fun to see Penny scrambling around the rock formations when she's older. It's hard to imagine her being that big, but she's getting bigger and faster and more agile all the time.

The Fair

2009-10-04T22:19:00.005-06:00

September wouldn't be complete without a trip to the state fair. We put Penny in the trusty backpack and ventured out on the last night the fair was in town. Many of the animals had already gone, but we were still able to show Penny the goats and the rabbits, eat some funnel cakes, and do some people watching. The demolition derby was sold out, but we could hear it and saw a little bit of the action behind the scenes. Ah, the fair. Where else can you see award winning amateur art, eat a deep-fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and listen to the sounds of revving engines and people cheering?

It was nice to be there around dusk, when the sun was setting. I was tempted to try the carousel, but after our recent Lagoon experience, I decided against it. We'll wait a little while before we try that again.

Traveling

2009-10-01T22:19:00.006-06:00

Whenever I feel like complaining about the 7 hour drive we make on a regular basis to Wyoming with our baby, I think of my friend Alisha, who flew from Guam with her baby to visit her family and friends here in the states. She traveled 30 hours ONE WAY with her 10 month old. I have flown once with Penny, it was an hour and a half, and it was the longest flight of my life. I don't know how Alisha did it, but she did, and she was even coherent despite the layovers and time changes and ALL OF THAT FLYING.

Penny liked Xavier quite a bit, and who can blame her? He's really cute and a seasoned traveler already.

Our trip to Wyoming was fine - during the mere 7 hour drive, I honed my skills of entertaining Penny while Britt drove, and Penny did well, although whenever we stopped, she didn't especially want to get back in her seat. We got to see Opa and Grandma Shirley, bathe Penny in their magnificent jetted tub, watch some of the TV shows we never get to watch after she went to bed (I love vacation!), and went on a little outdoor adventure in the badlands for some fossil hunting.

One of the various wind farms along I-80, harnessing Wyoming's most abundant resource.

Britt got to partake in his favorite activity, fly-fishing. Penny and I went up to the fish hatchery, while Britt took to the creek. The hatchery has changed a lot since I was a kid, but you can still feed some of the big rainbow trout, and Penny got a kick out of that.

On the trip home, the travel-sized MagnaDoodle from Opa and Shirley was a godsend. Penny discovered that scribbling and erasing is fun, and I was even able to do some reading on the drive home. Huzzah!

The Reset Button

2009-09-24T22:27:00.006-06:00

Today was one of those days where I needed a "redo" within an hour of being awake. Do mornings come with reset buttons? No? Folds arms. Harrumph.

I discovered one of the cats had thrown up on our bed (Eww! They usually have the decency to puke on the floor) and was cleaning it up by stripping the bed and wadding the soiled sheets into a ball and carrying them downstairs. Upon shoving the sheets into the washer, I noticed some water was on the floor of the basement, water that was coming from the kitchen sink upstairs. By this point, Penny was hollering because she finds the baby gate positively insulting when I use it to block her entry to the kitchen. I was trying to explain to her (over the ruckus of her yelling) that I was pulling dangerous chemicals out from under the sink, and didn't really need her in the kitchen at the moment, but the screaming is really helping, thanks. After strategically positioning a bucket under the hose beneath the sink, I was able to calm Penny down, which worked until she stubbed her toe on her high chair...at which point, my mother-in-law called.

It's always fun to take a phone call while your child is crying in the background. She asked if she could do anything to help, and I honestly couldn't answer, because I knew the only reasonable solution would be to go back to bed and start all over.

Needless to say, the day improved.

In case you were wondering, Britt is saying:
"I'm a little farmhand with no arms
I hope that no one tries to give me charms
When I get all fogged up
I hear the alarm
(Whoop Whoop Whoop Whoop)
Tip your server and then go out."

Don't ask. He does that on purpose because he knows it makes me crazy when he doesn't sing the RIGHT words to songs.