Threats

My friend Jean was visiting this week and offered (in the nicest possible way) some parenting advice. She is a former kindergarten teacher and long time educator so I figured I should probably take it. And anyone who's read more than a sentence of this blog probably understands that I need all of the help I can get.

I tend to give my son a lot of threats. I try not to give him crazy off target ones (like "wash your hands or you'll never see Elmo again") but things that are fairly relevant and related (such as "if you don't hold still and get your pajamas on now, we won't have time to read books").

Last night I threatened to take my son's popsicle away if he stepped off of the rug in our doorway (he's a pretty messy eater sometimes). Each time he started to step off, I'd remind him and he'd get back on. Jean's point was that if he stepped off at all, I should have taken it away. So he'd learn to listen to what I say, to stop constantly pushing the envelope.

So today I decided to try her advice. We went to the grocery store. Outside, there was a little coin operated construction paver that kids could ride in. Miles realllllllllly wanted to go in it. So I told him that if he was good in the store and didn't touch anything, he could do it.

He was pretty good to start. A few times as we went up and down the aisles I'd have to remind him - as his little fingers brushed the cookies or cereal - that he couldn't go on the paver if he touched things. And finally, when we were at our last stop - produce - he touched the tomatos. So I told him no paver today.

The lines were long and it was almost naptime and he cried for half an hour straight. Everyone was looking and I found myself explaining myself to the other people in line. But here's the worst part. I felt TERRIBLE. It was all I could do to stop myself from crying too. And first thing tomorrow, I'm sure we'll be back at the store, going for a ride on the paver.

So I think Jean is probably right. You need to draw a hard line on your threats. But here's my other learning today. Don't give a threat that will hurt you more than it hurts him.

Let Them Eat Cake

Miles has started another vegtable strike. Over the past week he's had one carrot and three slices of cucumber.... So I'm back to threatening, cajoling, and trying to sneak them in. I've always taken the philosphy that "every bite counts" but I sometimes wonder whether that's true. Or if two green beans or a few shreds of zucchini tucked under the cheese on his pizza are nothing more than a rounding error in his total nutritional intake.

There's an article in today's New York Times about the efforts of food scientists to add more nutritional value to otherwise unhealthy foods -- eg, potato chips may someday be a good source of dietary fiber. Part of me applauds this concept. It would certainly be easier for all of us if my kids could meet all of their nutritional needs with mac & cheese and veggie booty. But another part of me finds this very scary. Kind of like mini malls. Just one more effort to take all of the character, individuality and taste out of American life.

Ups

I was talking to my friend Robert yesterday and he said (in a nicer way than this) that after reading my blog he was glad that he didn't have kids. I guess I've been writing too much about the downs and not enough about the ups. So I started thinking about why I'm so glad I have my kids.

First is watching them develop as people. Miles will ask the same question say, maybe, fifty times while you are driving in the car (Daddy's in the airplane? Daddy flying to Connecticut? Daddy's in the plane? Where's Daddy?) as he tries to process the world. And Mia is learning to take care of people -- even the one who just hipchecked her away from the train table. She follows Miles around the house, constantly brininging him his lovey or binkie or sippy cup.

I also love seeing the world through their eyes. For most of my life I actually walked right by construction equipment or tow trucks and didn't spend twenty minutes marveling at the mysteries of heavy machinery. The kids also introduce a lot of laughter into my life, although I don't always understand the things that they find funny. They can crack each other up simply by passing a book or a binkie under a door. They were hysterical when he covered her in band aids. Or when he plays diaper man.

There's also the physical closeness of these two small bodies. If Mia isn't being held her favorite game is to walk toward me and then suddenly (and sometimes painfully!) dive on top of me. Miles needs to cuddle in my lap for half an hour every time he wakes up. So as much as they were driving me crazy when we were on vacation a couple of weeks ago because they were touching me constantly, I wouldn't know what to do with my personal space if I had it back.

And of course there's what children teach you about yourself. Admittedly I'm still working very, very hard on learning patience (more on this later!). But before I had Miles my friend Sam told me that one of the best things about motherhood is that you find that your capacity to love is more than you ever thought possible. And she's right.

Now back to picking tonight's mac and cheese off the floor....

Murphy's Law of Carwashes

We finally went to the carwash today. The nice one, where they vacuum and windex the inside of your car. And not thirty seconds after we pulled out, Miles accidentally dumped a bag of cheerios....

Free Time

Right now I have about five hours a week of free time to myself. It sounds like a lot, but it isn't really. It's the equivalent of the lunch breaks that a regular working person takes during their week. But the problem is that I don't usually spend it relaxing and taking a rest from my job.

Partially it is guilt. Although I don't know why I should feel guilty about taking a break. I used to work at a high-paced, high-stress software company (that shall remain nameless) and I can tell you that even the most high pressure job in Silicon Valley doesn't hold a candle to motherhood. I deserve a break, I really do.

Partially it is that sometimes it is a pain in the ass to take my kids on errands. Unless I can get the parking spot right out in front of the dry cleaner's, I have to take both kids out, carry Mia and drag Miles by the hand and somehow schlep Mike's mountain of dirty clothes in through the door. Even going to the grocery store can be a pain when your two year old insists on unloading the cart and paying.

I spent most of my time in high school obsessing about my weight and I don't want to go there again. However, I do have a milestone birthday coming up next year and I was thinking that it might be good be fit when I greet my new decade. Somehow I'm going have to find a way to work in working out.

Today I decided to free up my free time. Instead of going to the grocery store, I went for a run. I paid in the afternoon when I had to take both kids shopping so we'd have something for dinner. We almost got thrown out whenMiles opened the change machine and started pulling out quarters. But maybe, just maybe, I was a little more relaxed. And someday I might be a little more fit too.

Mooch

For breakfast this morning my daughter ate a bowl of cheerios, a cheese stick and 1/3 of a pear. Then I dropped the kids off at daycare for a few hours. Before I left, I took my son into the bathroom to pee. When I came out, Mia was in the high chair having yogurt and strawberries.

It doesn't matter where we are -- swim class, playground, daycare, zoo - if my kids see someone else with food, they stand there with mouths open, whining. You would think that I never fed them. I'm sure the other mothers slip them apple slices and goldfish on the sly because they think I'm starving them.

Laura's Law of Relativity

If I get on a plane with Mia, she will throw up.

Kangaroo

We were travelling last week (without Dad) and even though we were staying with an extremely hospitable friend who had a house full of toys, the kids felt a little insecure and I basically spent every waking moment holding one or the other.

I'm not unmoved by my daughter holding up her arms and bleating "Mama, mama," but after awhile my back was hurting and I was really wishing for just five seconds when someone wasn't touching me. And although I think I am a pretty good mother most of the time I haven't yet figured out how to take a shower or get dressed while holding Mia. I started thinking how nice it would be to have a pocket you could just stuff your kids into when they whine.

Mullet

My daughter has been hair challenged for most of her short life. She was born with hair, but most of it fell out before she was two months old. Now, at fifteen months she's only just starting to get some in on the top of her head. But the little fringe that hung on around the back of her neck has prospered. Today I was looking at her and realized she's looking a lot like certain baseball players....

This is probably not the last time we will have our fashion differences. My Mom bit her tongue - at least most of the time - when I was in high school and college and sporting baggy sweaters, black eyeliner and white pumps (hey, it was the '80s, what can I say). I tell myself that as long as Mia isn't into self mutilation, I'll keep my mouth shut too.

Still, I'm wondering if a little trim might be in order.

My Baby Einstein

We're constantly looking for clues as to what our children will be like when they grow up. Will they be intellectual? Athletic? Musical? Stoners?

My son Miles has a real hair-of-the-dog-that-bit-me personality. We can't tell whether he is extremely brave, or just stupid. Even when he started to walk, at ten months, if he fell he would cry for the briefest second and then wriggle out of your arms and try again. Now, at two, if he stands and falls off a chair, I can't even finish admonishing him before he is right back up there. Leaving me to think that he must be swimming in the shallow end of the gene pool.

But there are other times when I'm left speechless by his brilliance. He remembers every restaurant we've been to, and points out the ice cream shop each time we drive by. Today we drove past the airport and I told him that we'd be taking a plane in a few weeks to go back east and see some friends and cousins. He immediately said "and the lady comes and brings us pretzels." He has not been on a plane in seven months (or twenty percent of his little life) and he still remembers the flight attendant who brought him a snack.

Which confirms in my mind. If it has to do with food, Miles is Einstein.

You Know Your Car is REALLY Dirty When

your visiting 9 year old nephew proclaims from the backseat "It's a pigsty back here." Okay, I guess it really is time to clean it...

Police State?

Lest it seems like all I worry about are clothes, showers and grey hair, I'm also worried about what kind of country my children will grow up in.

Two things are worrying me in particular these days.

First, I'm worried about the fact that journalists are now revealing their confidential sources. What's going to happen to the free press? What's next? Do we lose attorney/client priviledge? Will psychiatrists have to reveal all of their clients' secrets?

Second, I'm worried about the increasing partisanship of American politics. Republicans line up behind republicans, democrats behind demos. It seems to me that people are defending the most indefensible things in the name of their parties. When did everyone lose the ability to think for themselves?

Clothes

I'm starting to obsess about clothes. I was OK with looking lousy through my pregnancy and in the months beyond. But my daughter is now 15 months old and I really feel that it is time to move on.

I want a new wardrobe. I want things that are funky and unique (not too unique, but not "motherly" either). Also machine washable. With pockets. And inexpensive. Since I'm unemployed, free would be nice. Oh yes, and I want them to be available over the Internet or within walking distance.

As far as I can tell these things don't exist. I realize I'm pathetic for thinking about this, but I can't help it.

Frustration

I have a million things to do -- the car needs to be fixed, we have a mountain of clothes in our bedroom that needs to be moved to goodwill, a perscription is waiting at Walgreen's, etc, etc, etc -- and I sit here powerless because the kids are napping and I can't leave the house.

My friend told me that she knows someone who used to regularly go out when her kids were sleeping and leave the baby monitor at a neighbor's house. If only....

People always say that parenting is about patience. I just didn't realize that the need for patience extended beyond the kids themselves.

More on Hygenie

A couple of weeks ago I met a friend on a Wednesday morning, after I'd taken Mia to swim class and ducked home for a quick shower. She repeatedly admired my "new" haircut and said how much she liked it.

But here's the thing. I hadn't had a haircut in four months.

Now that I'm thinking about hygenie, I'm realizing that she'd just never seen me with clean hair before. It is virtually impossible to take a shower when my kids around around. I used to put Mia in the exersaucer, but now she kicks and screams as if I'm trying to kill her. The only time I can take a shower is when they're napping in the afternoons.

So I realize that I have a whole group of friends that I've met at the playground or playdates or whatever who have never seen me clean. They have no idea what I really look like. I am usually a clean freak, but all of these people would sure never know it to look at me!

Dental Floss

I went to the dentist for a teeth cleaning today and as they were flossing my teeth I realized I hadn't flossed since my last visit six months ago. Not one single time. It isn't that I'm philosophically opposed to flossing. I just forgot about the whole concept. My mind is so full with preschools, playdates and potty training that flossing got lost in the shuffle.

My mind can only hold a proscribed amount of information at any one time. That's why I can still remember Jim Woodruff's phone number from junior high (226-4097) but sometimes having trouble recalling my husband's cell. Or my own.

So in addition to interrupting my sleep patterns, social life and everything else, my kids are affecting my personal hygenie too. I guess that's more than anyone really needed to know...

Circle?

In less than 24 hours last weekend I found out that an old friend died very suddenly (leaving behind three daughters ages 6, 4 and 2) and another friend's child had a horrible accident (from which he will recover, but it will be a long recovery after a week in intensive care and a terrible ordeal for the entire family). In those same 24 hours, a different friend gave birth to twins and another returned from China with a beautiful baby girl.

Somehow it always seems that things happen in bunches like this. I don't want to say something cheesy about the circle of life, or lie that it makes you feel better about losing a friend to know that there are new babies out there, or babies that now have happy homes. I'm still finding myself crying at the drop of a hat.

But it does remind you that good things do happen. And that helps.

The Carwash-Nutrition Connection

My friend Jaclyn has the cleanest car you've ever seen. She's had it for over a year and it still has the new car smell. What's amazing is that she also has two kids. And they ride in the car. Her secret? No food...

I'm a bit of a neat freak, so when I rode in her car I was more than a teensy bit jealous. My car is littered with zip lock bags, petrified cheese stick nubs, melted raisins and bits of carrot muffins. And dried up puddles of milk and juice. A week after we drove to San Diego I found a big hunk of rubbery banana in the well around the seat belt buckle.

So I thought about having the no food rule in our car too. A clean car. How adult! Someday I might wear dry clean only clothes again too.

But here's the problem. My son's attention span is the size of an atomic particle. And unfortunately that extends to eating too. He likes food, and - thankfully - he's back on the vegtables. But he has a hard time sitting still long enough to eat a full dinner. So he does his best eating when he's strapped down - in the car or the stroller.

I can hand him a little bag of carrots in the car, and he'll actually eat them. He's so hungry on the way home from swim class that I could probably give him a bag of sand and he'd eat that too. Some of our best eating is in the car.

So as much as I crave a clean car, I'm just going to have to wait until Miles is less squirmy. Besides, he loves going to the carwash.

Birthday Gifts?

I'll just caveat this by saying that at just 2-1/2, Miles hasn't been invited to a whole lot of birthday parties yet... but he received an invitation today that said (in 12 point type) on the back that the birthday boy likes Jojo and company, available at the Disney store and Amazon.com, as well as Elmo and Thomas the Tank Engine. Oh yeah, and that he wears a size 2T. I know you are expected to bring gifts to parties, but it seems a teensy bit wrong to be told what to get. And where to get it.

Is this customary? I can just imagine the stroke my Mom would have if I did that...

Pulling My Hair Out

In the past week I’ve noticed an explosion of grey hairs on my head. I don’t know whether to blame it on my son’s terrible twos or my impending fortieth birthday, but whatever the cause… there they are.

I used to jazz up my mousy brown hair with blonde highlights, but I’ve been growing them out for the past year under the principle that I want to set an example of good self image to my daughter. I don’t want her to grow up feeling like she has to change herself in some way to improve herself.

And yet I can’t quite accustom myself to the fact that they are there, and taking over. At this rate I can’t keep plucking them or I’ll go bald. I don’t have a lot going for me these days…. exercise is basically a distant memory, manicures are an irregular habit at best. If I can spend two hours in a chair three times a year and give myself a little sparkle, it is probably worth the investment.

So I made an appointment for highlights next week. My daughter, after all, is only fourteen months old. There’s lots of time to set a good example.