Still Here

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.

Our Little Gymnast

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.

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

(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.

Love Bites

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

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.

And a Happy New Year

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.

To React, or Not?

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.

27 Months Old

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

The Little Napoleon

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.

Coddled.

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.

A World of No

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.

Off to a Good Start

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?

The Way We Get By

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?