Looking to exchange my "Grumpy" hat...

Sleep drama continues at the house of Dirt Makes Fat. Daniel has begun fighting his nap, and he is one persistent kid. After a few days of struggling to get him down for the nap, I finally picked a day to just... go without. Maybe he doesn't need it anymore, I reasoned. He got a tot crabby and frustrated, and we were butting heads more than usual. He also crashed around suppertime which made bedtime more of a bear.

The next two days he napped of his own accord at 11 and 11:30am, setting up a nice amount of space to get him off to bed in the evening at a reasonable time and without too much ado. The next day a nap struck at 2:30pm, and today held off until 1:30pm. Once he goes down, the kid also power-naps until I decide enough is enough and I start trying my darndest to wake-im up.

No matter what time he gets to bed in the evenings, he is up at 6/6:15am. Lately I'm woken by him draped across my bedroom doorway, kicking his feet against the jamb while he waits for his parents to rise.

I am starting to give up on the idea of schedules for him.
****************
In the car report, after replacing the fuel assembly and spending much moolah, the frakkin' light was off on the dashboard of my frakkin' car for almost exactly 48 hours. And it's baacck! I suspect there will be additions to this report very soon. (Stupid deer.)

Mired

Remember our encounter with Bambi? Turns out when a deer smacks your car the ripple effect lasts LOONNG after.

A month after the accident and my lovely red jeep is finally in the shop for repairs. Much haggling has ensued with the insurance over just what is really covered. There is the $500 deductible (naturally)... the remanufactured bumper that the insurance has insisted we use (can't make the car better than it was - just back to it's pre-accident state) even though the body shop says that the insurance people know that no such "remanufactured bumper" exists for my model car. And we're supposed to eat 25% of the difference in cost.

Once the car was in the shop and being deconstructed they found an additional $1k worth of damage. Good news - covered by insurance. Bad news - it means ordering new parts, and not getting my wheels back until middle of next week instead of Friday. Which means out more money on the rental car unless I take it back and do without for a number of days. With a 2.5 year old to wrangle.

And none of the above includes the new light on my dashboard (vapor leak) and the squeak from the front suspension. Insurance is of course insisting that this has nothing to do with hitting a deer. Funny thing, though. None of this came about until we smacked into the *(&^&%(_*! thing in middle of the road.

SuperMommy - 0, DestructoKid - 1

Our condo can be a tight space. It has been great for a couple, and even worked pretty well for a couple plus baby. Now that we have a 2.5 year old in our midst I despair over ever catching up with the clutter cleaning.

How is it that toys can be strewn from one end of this place to the other, and the only help I can muster up from the little one is if it's a "grown-up" chore? Move the laundry from washer to dryer, and I've got a little assistant. Sweep the kitchen, and I've got an extra pair of hands. Don't get me wrong, I love that "little helper" part! But the rest of his time is spent leaving toy bits in his wake as he moves from room to room. I've started working the ol' vanishing act on some particularly pesky items. So far we are missing one set of legos and several Little People sets. The tool bench went MIA for a few weeks, only recently reappearing - and is in danger of going poof once again. Nothing seems to work about picking up toys, so I'm resorting to a little Mama Magic.

If only that could have saved our kitchen screen. Three weeks to get the re-done frame back from the local hardware store. It does make for a convenient way to get rid of any toys that Daniel decides to drop through the hole in the door...

Toddler Fashion

So my hair is finally long enough to be put into a real pony tail this summer. This has resulted in screeches from the toddler of: No Hair! NO HAIR!! ...until I pull the pony tail holder out.

And the kid who spent all winter taking everything off his body now hands me the following assortment of items when he wants to get dressed: sweatpants, long-sleeved tees, sweatshirts, his fireman rain coat. Stand back! Commence with the meltdown when I try and talk him into something just a tad bit on the cooler side.

And the kid who wouldn't wear a hat all winter now won't leave home without one. I'm a little more relaxed on this, as at least it gives him some sun protection. I do try and talk him out of the plastic Fireman helmet, however. The last time he took it off his head he looked as though he had gone swimming. Grandpa's fishing hat looks very cute!

The Itchy and Scratchy Show

H's family has a cottage up in York, Maine. York has beautiful beaches, although the water is just too cold for me. I grew up dipping my summer toes in Michigan and Wisconsin lakes (not the Great Lakes!) that are bath water compared to York. The cottage has been in need of some attention, and so several weekends so far have had Sundays devoted to heading up there to work. Today's excursion was combined with Uncle Bruce's birthday. It made for a generally happy chaos of yard and house work, cousins chasing each other through the yard and a cake and ice cream celebration.

It is also a big tick area, which makes it very hard for me not to get a little paranoid. Between skeeters and potential ticks I was finishing up the day itching and smacking at bugs. And Daniel is as twitchy about an inspection for ticks as he was about the splinters in his feet. We finished up our evening with showers and baths for the whole family. Begone bugs!

Mama's New Challenge

We went to a small barbecue yesterday afternoon, hosted by a friend at her parents' place. Everyone had a grand time, especially Daniel. Our friend's parents have grandkids of their own, so it was a new space full of all-new toys and even a yard to explore. There was good company, and hamburgers and hot dogs never taste better than hot off a grill.

I love that Daniel is a sociable kid. When he wasn't occupying himself with all the new trucks and cars he was getting pushed on the swing by our friend's father or hopping up on the porch swing to sit next to her grandmother or showing her fiance something in a book.

Unfortunately his habit of removing his shoes at every possible opportunity has caught up with him: splinters in his feet. We got home late last night and he was completely exhausted. Any attempt at removal of the splinters only got me a shrieking, thrashing kid. I finally left it alone, and he crashed in his bed. I'm off to try a warm bath (for him, although I may need one later...) and another attempt. Wish me luck!

Mommy Doesn't Ride Again

This weekend was reminiscent of those early-baby days of endless feedings and diaper changes - I dipped a toe back into the pool of sleepless nights courtesy of Daniel and his severely stuffed/runny nose. He wasn't shy in letting me know just how unhappy he was about the whole deal. Any tricks for teaching a 2.5 year old how to blow his nose?

Saturday night, er, Sunday morning at 4am found the two of us out in the living room watching Herbie Rides Again, which was preferable to listening to the screaming about My Nose! My Nose!

The attack left as quickly as it came on, so unless there is a 24-hour cold I am now pondering the idea of allergies for the poor little guy.

You've done it again, Mr. Magee

We got back from a trip to a local farm/ice cream place yesterday afternoon, and Daniel was chattering on at the dinner table after H got home. He was talking about statues and flags and I realized he must still be thinking about our long weekend trip to Wellsboro, PA. There was a small park with lots of cool statues and fountains to look at and grassy areas to run on and tulips to see. Then he popped out with: John Magee, and I about fell off my chair.

The first time through the park we saw the monuments to soldiers, and the fountain with Winkin Blinkin and Nod as the centerpiece. We missed the bust statue, and went back to it on our next go-round to the park. To no one in particular I remember reading the name John Magee, and a small piece about his founding a railroad.

Apparently my kid is even more of a little sponge than I thought.

Deer, Interrupted

H loves to travel. Make that H LOVES TO TRAVEL. With company or without, near or far... it seems the gears are always turning for him about planning some sort of trip. I like to travel too - it's something we have in common. But that "gear" is not so much in the on position for me since Daniel's arrival.

Our most recent outing involved a trip to Wellsboro, PA. It's beautiful country, and a prime fishing target for people like my father and brother. My parents and brother met us out there for a little fly-fishing down-time for the guys, and lots of togetherness planned for everyone to see Daniel and all. The trip began with a bang when our car met a deer about 6 miles outside of Wellsboro. We're all OK, and that's the important thing. But my car has a damaged front driver's side grille, the left front fender clean off the car and a busted front left turn signal. A little prayer of thanks that we're all OK. But damn, this was my first rather nice car...

Daniel basked in the family time. It makes me happy that he is so excited to see my extended family since there are large gaps between visits. We ate in restaurants like the Wellsboro Diner and Timeless Destination, mostly successfully since getting Daniel to sit still is sometimes a challenge. Adjoining rooms meant extra space to roam, and while Daniel's sleep schedule was pretty much a haphazard-whenever-you-feel-like-slowing-down bedtime, it was still a fun/successful trip. And we seem to be getting back to normal routines without too many bumps.

Now, on to fixing my jeep so I can stop muttering stupid deer under my breath.

Not a Wonderful Thing...

Daniel and I spent a good chunk of yesterday with some friends. They are having their flooring redone, and so it was a perfect excuse to get together and let the kiddos chase each other around town. Their kitchen is pretty much out of commission, and so we accepted the invitation to a local restaurant for dinner. This restaurant is trying to get more kids/families to stop in, and on Wednesday nights there is a roaming magician, a guy who does balloons... and a guy in a Tigger suit.

We weren't there five minutes when Daniel spotted the Tigger - and freaked - big blue eyes welling up, face scrunched, mouth open in sobs. Lots of folks have stories about their kids and their first experiences with the animal-suited characters. Surprised the heck out of me, though, as Daniel has been pretty fearless. He's even started watching (and requesting) The Wizard of Oz lately, complete with the scary witch, the flying monkeys, and in my opinion the pretty fearsome looking floating-head Wizard.

I briefly debated staying, but decided that there was no way he was eating a meal in that state. When I asked: Do you want to go home? He nodded vigorously and said in a meek little voice: Yes. Go home. We were outta there. I think there aren't any trips to Disney in the near future for us...

Living Large

H and I are, um, dare I say it? Quiet people. We're much more at home traipsing through old New England graveyards than boogie-ing on an earsplitting dance floor.

My sister-in-law likes to chuckle about how we've been blessed with a little guy on the opposite end of the spectrum. I still remember the first trip to the Midwest to see the grandparents, and the delighted shriek of Ma-MA! when Daniel spotted me through a crowded rest stop plaza, as I returned from the restroom. Feeding Tilly the Bunny some cheerios at the local Family Network is bound to produce similar delighted shrieks of laughter, Daniel fairly dancing on his toes with happiness.

The din around our place lately has had an opposite tone as well when Mama thwarts his quest for More Juice! or his plan to carpet every square inch of living space with the pieces-parts of various toys. Or the tooth-brushing wrestling match we engaged in tonight.

I think there's a little lesson here for me somewhere, as I realize that I don't want to constantly be the "No-Stop That!" person. I'd like to soak up a little of my baby's "living large spark" in the time to come. As exasperating as it can be - I do admire that about the little guy.

Dear Daniel

When you were born, I never thought that I might be measuring you in the state of your hair. You arrived with a bunch of the stuff that was sort of dark and a little wavy, and it had your father and I scratching our heads and saying: Huh? Where did that come from?

We stumbled through those sleep-deprived first weeks and months, and I don't really remember you losing hair, but suddenly it seems there was a new crop. Early pictures show a grinning blondie with an initial strip of hair focused in the center, prompting at least one email from Grandpa saying: Who gave the kid a mohawk? The mohawk filled in and kept going, and we all marveled at your cherub curls. I occasionally got a scissors to your bangs, to make sure you could see, but we left your lion's mane to bounce behind you as you ran on your many new adventures.

I never thought that it would be at 2.5 years old you would be getting your first official hair cut. You were a trooper, only really crying when the lady got out her spray bottle full of water to wet down your hair. It was time. The weather is getting hotter, and I know that you certainly won't miss brushing the hair out of your eyes or pulling it away from your mouth when you're trying to eat (or my trying to comb a knot out of the back of your head). We think fondly of your long locks... but seeing our new big boy come padding into our room (yes, even at 6am) makes us smile.

Love,

Mama

A night on the town...

As a teenager I can recall spending weekend after weekend at Pine Knob in Michigan on outings, just seeing whomever was playing at the time: Huey Lewis and the News, oohh there was that double bill of The Thompson Twins and Berlin... yep, even the Pointer Sisters! (OK, looking back I'm a little agog at that one...)

Even before the baby, and in the days of ever-climbing ticket prices, I'd gotten a lot pickier about an evening out. It just has to be someone I really want to see if I'm going to make that effort.

H decided to splurge for my (ahem) milestone birthday this year and nabbed us some tickets to see Jerry Seinfeld when he breezed through town. I didn't quite anticipate heading into Boston with the rest of the Red Sox faithful last Friday. We made it on time, but the jockeying for position at the **&^%$! tollbooths made me a little nervous. Thanks MBTA. Jerry was in fine form for a (mostly) family-friendly show. Refreshing to have an outing holding hands with my guy and not keeping one eye peeled for: Where did the 2.5 year old just go?

It must be a measure of my TV addiction however, that I kept half-expecting to see George, Elaine and Kramer pop out on stage as well...

A pet peeve, and something stupid...

Our cable service has that lovely on-demand feature. Perfect for when Daniel insists that he really wants to watch Thomas, and Mama really needs to take a shower. My pet peeve is this: When the programming is over, the screen reverts to a menu with a "preview screen" up top. And some of the stuff they are previewing is scary! I can remember points where the Harry Potter films were in pretty heavy rotation, for example.

So yesterday the above scenario happened. And hearing Daniel start to get pretty upset I lunged for the couch where I had last thrown the clicker. And completely crunched my right foot. Life sometimes has ways of asking you to slow down. I'd just prefer they not come with a puffy turning-purple toe and a pronounced limp.

Spice of Life

Me - (a trifle, um, indisposed in the bathroom)

Daniel - (barging in, holding out his hands) I spilled it!

Me - (Examining indecipherable dusty substance on hands) ???

Come to find out he had been occupying his time figuring out how to unscrew the top of the salt/pepper grinder and there was salt (and peppercorns) everywhere...

Strength

I am a bit of a hovering Mom. Can't seem to help it really, it's a natural tendency that kicked into overdrive when I became one. I try to keep it tempered, but the stay-at-home gig means no daycare, and we haven't done preschool yet so the little guy and I are fairly constant companions. Thank goodness Daniel is pretty outgoing and more times than not will launch himself into whatever class we are doing, park we are visiting, etc. Just stand back and watch 'im go!

I've been spending some time the past few months helping the local family network arrange their annual family fun fair. The event was this past Saturday, and with H working it meant that Daniel spent the morning at his Gram's house sans Mom or Dad. Everything went beautifully, of course, both with the event and with Daniel. He played and played with Auntie, an Uncle, Gram, one of his cousins and was pretty much zonked on his feet from all the activity and no nap by the time I got there. High five for me!

We spent Monday with feet firmly planted in tantrum city. Hauling a shrieking, struggling 30+ pound 2.5 year old into a car and then up two flights of stairs to our condo was an interesting way to end my afternoon. All kinds of strength needed in being a Mom, eh?

Well, that was new!

The toddler wake up call has been averaging around 6am lately. He used to give me until 8am or so, so this has been an adjustment on my part to say the least. While we are still in PJs, and he is settled in with breakfast and Curious George I try to collect myself and get a start on my day.

Yesterday, just a bit into the morning, I found him rolling around on the carpet saying: My leg hurts. My fogged, pre-caffeinated morning brain interpreted this as: pay me some attention Mommy. I murmured something appropriate and kept doing whatever it was that I was doing. When he repeated this a few minutes later, I took a closer look. Why did one leg of the feetie pajamas look all puffy? Further investigation revealed that the diaper had detached, but only on one side, and slid down one leg to puddle around his ankle! Thank goodness that (ahem) puddle was all I really had to deal with at the time.

Everythings rockin' - me - I'm just tryin' to roll...

We had grand plans to get down to the Cape this Saturday to see my sister-in-law sing. If you're ever in the area, check her out - The Somers-Frost Band rocks!

Unfortunately this ended with two parents on the, um, ill side of the street. (Ack! Not the flu! NO!). Ever try to drive hours back home with a 2.5 year old and two feeling pretty punk parents? There was a moment of serious contemplation of paying for an extra hotel room night. It's a good thing we crawled our way home, as the saga ain't over yet. And I've officially lost track of being under the weather this season, which is extremely exasperating. Both H and I hope to get further than two feet from the bathroom soon. Here's hoping you have all managed to stay that way. Because this, is miserable.

The Prince of Carbs

Sigh. I know that it is typical of toddlerhood to be incredibly picky about what you eat, but c'mon Daniel! At the moment you seem to be thriving on bananas and whole wheat ritz.

Seriously. This kid ate more variety as a baby. I could put most kinds of baby food in front of him (or shovel it in...) and he would at least try it - and ate most of it. The one exception was the spinach, which earned me the first all-over-body-shudder from the little guy. (I couldn't really blame him!)

I made the online acquaintance of Amy at Ice Cream is not for Breakfast recently, and have found some solidarity in reading some other Moms' struggles with this issue. I have even gotten a cookbook that talks of ways to hide the "good stuff" in food that your kids will actually eat. I've tried a pizza bagel that contained carrot, sweet potato and white beans in the sauce that actually went over fairly well. I do believe that this should be in conjunction with trying to get them to eat "non-hidden" good stuff too, but I do like the idea of taking some of the battle out of kids meals.

Now I just need to conquer my personal battle of being a "non-chef" in the kitchen. I love good food, but have a tendency to look for the four-ingredients-or-less, toss-in-a-pot, no-fuss sorts of dishes to make. Any good recommendations?

Sleep Experiment, Part Deux

Confession time. We have a bed of blankets and pillows for Mama and/or Dada in the little guy's room. A HUGE no-no, I know... When we were in that early fog of caring for a newborn, we tried every sleep trick we could think of: swings, bouncy seats, sleeping on one of us. The crib would result in crying howls of protest that did not stop. After listening to hours of it, we would pick the boy up and go back to one of the old methods. I ditched most of the "sleep manuals," as all they ever really did for me was point out that every single thing I tried doing was wrong, sending my sleep-deprived self into an even greater funk.

We stumbled our way into co-sleeping for awhile. With many tears on both our parts I eventually managed to drag Daniel into sleeping in his own room, and in his own crib. The thing that helped him with that was being able to peer out, and see that Mama or Dada were right there as he was drifting off. This has been difficult to break. I think we've sort of looked at it as a trade-off to avoid the nightly sobbing stress-fest. As the pediatrician said to me at one point: Sometimes you just do what you gotta do, so that everyone can get some sleep.

Flash-forward to our recent sleep developments of converting the crib to a toddler bed. It's been rather anti-climactic as, in reality, Daniel hasn't spent very many nights actually in the bed. He thinks that the little nest of blankets on the floor look pretty comfy-cozy for the night. At this rate, I may forgo the bed altogether and pitch a tent. But I can't complain.

He's still in his room.