Well, we’ve had some nice success getting W to settle in his own bed each night after we read something like 700 books to him. It’s partly my fault since I’m also trying to wean myself from our “snuggling with the Simpson’s” routine. Each book is more time spent with the funny little love bug. He awoke the other morning minutes after 5 a.m. (yeah, I was hatin’ it) talking on and on about flying on airplanes where “they give you cookies and they give you crackers and they give you toys.” Oh, how I wished at that moment he was actually on said plane and not babbling on with the sunrise two long hours away. But I’m acclimating myself as I mentally prepare for many days of very much quality time with him when we move. I mean, I’ll secure a nanny for sure when we get there but ultimately it’s just me and him and sometimes the Hubs when he can make it out. I’m preparing a photo album for him of our house here, friends from school and family members so we can talk about them everyday. I’m putting an Art Box together for him so we can have creative time often. I envision our house off Hwy 67 covered in his genius, which is purely fitting since Marfa is an art mecca. Maybe I’ll host an art opening for W’s new friends there and they can come check out his work while sipping juice boxes, munching on Veggie Booty and listening to Of Montreal sing “I Want To Have Fun”. Yeah, we’re gonna fit right in.
Tomorrow is my last day at the office. Today my officemates surprised me with a plastic bucket filled with sunscreen, bug bite meds, baby wipes, a sewing kit, a map of Texas with the route between here and there highlighted, band aids, a flashlight with a blinking “Find Me” LED and an Us Weekly. Several things I can take off my shopping list now.
Heading out of town on Thursday to go suss out the details of our journey to come. Finally get to see the state of the job site, see the house where we will be living and finally come up with a timeline for all. Let’s get this party started already.
Showing posts with label Discipline. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Discipline. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Friday, April 18, 2008
Regrowth
Yesterday the Hubs picked up W from school and I had the chance to do whatever I wanted to do when I got off work (go to Target! shoe shopping! Sephora! read!) but instead I went home and pulled weeds until my fingers cramped. The early evening was cloudy, a bit breezy, perfect weather to hunker down in the beds and dig. But it was more than digging and tugging and cursing the gnarly roots. I was deep in thought, buried in curiosities, fears, excitement and responsibilities of the weeks to come. It was blissful and I look forward to my next adventure providing me the many opportunities to work and think, work and reflect, work and enjoy instead of being twisted up about a five mile traffic jam, a long line at the post office, or a person driving out of turn at my neighborhood 5-way stop. Yeah, that one really gets in my crawl. I will be forced to slow down and really smell the yucca (while keeping an eye out for snakes and loose dogs and scorpions). Really can’t wait.
On the home front we are trying to correct a wrong that we thought was oh so cute and convenient (i.e. we were being lazy) and get our son to sleep at a reasonable hour IN HIS OWN BED. It all happened by default, thanks to Miss Jo who came over last night bearing gifts. After dinner, the conversation spun to W’s sleeping habits and she very matter of factly said you need to put him to bed between 8 and 9 and Hubs why don’t you do it now or something like that. I cringed inside knowing W hadn’t really eaten his dinner but there’s no time like the present, right? Books were read, PJs were donned and protests were heard. The Hubs finally emerged from the bedroom as W whipped himself in a frenzy that lasted half an hour (or what seemed like an eternity for me) before he was quiet, exhausted by his efforts to get someone's attention. Miss Jo hung around until it was over probably knowing full well that I would’ve gone in to his room to rescue him and be the hero. W slept through the night if you consider “waking at 5 a.m. and ready to get the day started” sleeping through the night. But I’m committed to making this work and the Hubs is committed to being the bedtime person and I will pick up the slack when he’s not home. Besides our relationship could use a shot in the arm and having that evening time together is just what Miss Jo ordered.
On the home front we are trying to correct a wrong that we thought was oh so cute and convenient (i.e. we were being lazy) and get our son to sleep at a reasonable hour IN HIS OWN BED. It all happened by default, thanks to Miss Jo who came over last night bearing gifts. After dinner, the conversation spun to W’s sleeping habits and she very matter of factly said you need to put him to bed between 8 and 9 and Hubs why don’t you do it now or something like that. I cringed inside knowing W hadn’t really eaten his dinner but there’s no time like the present, right? Books were read, PJs were donned and protests were heard. The Hubs finally emerged from the bedroom as W whipped himself in a frenzy that lasted half an hour (or what seemed like an eternity for me) before he was quiet, exhausted by his efforts to get someone's attention. Miss Jo hung around until it was over probably knowing full well that I would’ve gone in to his room to rescue him and be the hero. W slept through the night if you consider “waking at 5 a.m. and ready to get the day started” sleeping through the night. But I’m committed to making this work and the Hubs is committed to being the bedtime person and I will pick up the slack when he’s not home. Besides our relationship could use a shot in the arm and having that evening time together is just what Miss Jo ordered.
Friday, October 26, 2007
Faker
For several weeks now parents have been reading about the misuse of infant cough medicine ending in some overdose cases but I have yet to read about the addiction they may cause. For example, I’m getting ready for work this morning. W is doing his usual rooting around in various drawers and reveals two bottles of adult cough medicine. He brings the larger of the two over to me and says, “W cough, need cough medicine.” He starts fake coughing and continues begging for the meds. I tell him this one is for adults and he doesn’t have a cough and stop sticking your finger down your throat and let’s watch Curious George instead. The dramatics are cued and he starts with the whining and begging and more fake coughing/choking and I’m just looking at my toddler junkie and wondering who I should call for backup…911? NA? His doc? Pest control? My imaginary therapist? I admit to using cough meds when I felt he needed it but I’m not a believer in the band aid method of curing what ails you. I believe your body should work to banish the illness on it’s own. With constant observation and care of the situation, the natural method usually works for us but I’m disheartened by my 2-year-old’s junkie-like reaction to the sight of a cough medicine bottle. Anyone ever heard of toddler intervention?
Friday, September 28, 2007
Crimes and Chaos
It’s been hell getting things back on track since my journey to West Texas. The hell being that I’d much rather be out there than chained to my desk.
I use my personal laptop for work. I have my browser set to CNN.com when Safari opens. I have since had to change it because I cannot stomach the horrifying and constant headlines about people neglecting and abusing children. Yesterday there was the 4 or 5 year old girl that authorities were hoping to identify because she was being sexually abused by an adult in a video that was found outside of Vegas. Then there was the report of the 4-month-old that was found in a daycare bathroom with its pacifier taped to its mouth. Today there’s the one about the parents that strapped their 14-month-old in his stroller so they could go party. He was found with severe diaper rash, his temp was 12 degrees below normal and was required to have 21 minutes of CPR to revive him because he stopped breathing. The mother of this child admitted to only changing his diaper once a day! Once a day, people! What the fuck? How? How can they do this? Makes me sick. I can’t read this crap at work anymore. I’ll never get anything done.
W had a true blue meltdown this morning right before leaving for school. I went in his room to put on his, yes, you guessed it, his Crocs and he flipped out. His body went stiff and he little arms were spinning like windmills. I quickly gave him the once over to rule out anything poking or scratching him. I was on the verge of being late for work so I carried him out to the truck kicking and screaming. I calmly put him in the carseat and that was like wrestling an armful of piglets. He wailed all the way to school despite my efforts to console him with an improvised version of The Wheels On The Bus. When we pulled in, I finally exhaled and gently extracted him from the truck. I retrieved the shoes he launched to the front seat and put them on him. He had settled down by this time but I was completely rattled. We hugged for a few seconds, collected ourselves and headed to the playground. I couldn’t unload him fast enough. I know this is only the beginning of the alleged Terrible Twos and, so far, it really stinks. Must do research.
I use my personal laptop for work. I have my browser set to CNN.com when Safari opens. I have since had to change it because I cannot stomach the horrifying and constant headlines about people neglecting and abusing children. Yesterday there was the 4 or 5 year old girl that authorities were hoping to identify because she was being sexually abused by an adult in a video that was found outside of Vegas. Then there was the report of the 4-month-old that was found in a daycare bathroom with its pacifier taped to its mouth. Today there’s the one about the parents that strapped their 14-month-old in his stroller so they could go party. He was found with severe diaper rash, his temp was 12 degrees below normal and was required to have 21 minutes of CPR to revive him because he stopped breathing. The mother of this child admitted to only changing his diaper once a day! Once a day, people! What the fuck? How? How can they do this? Makes me sick. I can’t read this crap at work anymore. I’ll never get anything done.
W had a true blue meltdown this morning right before leaving for school. I went in his room to put on his, yes, you guessed it, his Crocs and he flipped out. His body went stiff and he little arms were spinning like windmills. I quickly gave him the once over to rule out anything poking or scratching him. I was on the verge of being late for work so I carried him out to the truck kicking and screaming. I calmly put him in the carseat and that was like wrestling an armful of piglets. He wailed all the way to school despite my efforts to console him with an improvised version of The Wheels On The Bus. When we pulled in, I finally exhaled and gently extracted him from the truck. I retrieved the shoes he launched to the front seat and put them on him. He had settled down by this time but I was completely rattled. We hugged for a few seconds, collected ourselves and headed to the playground. I couldn’t unload him fast enough. I know this is only the beginning of the alleged Terrible Twos and, so far, it really stinks. Must do research.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Banner Day
Here is a list of Dr. Spock approved disciplinary words and phrases I am currently using on W. I’m certain I’ll be wearing the Mother Of The Year banner on Mother’s Day…
“DUDE! (insert questionable situation in high pitched voice here)!”
“Get a grip.”
“WAIT!”
“Not for babies!” -My favorite and works like a charm.
“Hey…hey…heeeeyyyyy!”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“This is your dad’s fault!”
“This is why mommy drinks in the closet after night night.”
Yup, I’m the best mom EVER!
“DUDE! (insert questionable situation in high pitched voice here)!”
“Get a grip.”
“WAIT!”
“Not for babies!” -My favorite and works like a charm.
“Hey…hey…heeeeyyyyy!”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“This is your dad’s fault!”
“This is why mommy drinks in the closet after night night.”
Yup, I’m the best mom EVER!
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