Coping

Ana of Time Flies When You're Having Babies wrote this post recently, and not only is it funny and so so so true, but I had several additions of my own.

Things I Do To Make Parenting Young Children Easier on Myself


1) I leave my children with either a sitter or their father for an hour every night I can stand it, and I go for a run with other friends of mine. We shuffle along our regular route and just talk about our lives. I do this (this is the key) even if my screaming, drippy, starving offspring need to be peeled off of my body. Then I come home and resume normal activities.

2) I feed everyone supper at the ungodly hour of 4:30pm.  And I put Clara to bed at about 6pm and Samuel to bed at 7:30pm.  Yes, this is early.  Yes, this means my mornings start early.  Yes, very early.  But it's worth it to me to have some evening time before I crash from exhaustion.

I also enforce a nap for Samuel.  Even if he doesn't sleep, he has to stay in bed for an hour.  Quietly.

3)  I take advantage of every offer of help in some way.  If you offer to help me, I will find something for you to do.  If you come over to my house to have a cup of coffee, I will use your presence in the livingroom to go to the bathroom by myself and probably pluck that stray eyebrow hair while I'm in there.  And maybe trim my nails.  But that's it, I swear.

4)  I turn off the television.  We don't have cable but the endless loop of children's dvds drive me crazy.  Instead I force poor Samuel to play with toys quietly.  Toys that don't have batteries.

5)  I listen to adult music in the house.

6)  If I think that someone is feeling sick, I don't wait 'just to see what happens' but immediately give them a dose of ibuprofen.  I also pre-dose before innoculations, even if the child doesn't have a history of getting grouchy or hot afterwards.

7)  On days when David works in the evening, I make a very large lunch and reheat it again as supper for the children and myself.

8)  I keep several activities at the ready for times when I need Samuel to stop. touching. me.  A set of tongs and a glass jar of acorns and an egg carton is one.  Sets of markers and paper is another.  Playdough, stickers, scissors and origami paper to cut into confetti...

9)  I only bathe when David is home to watch the children.  And then I lock the bathroom door.

Hurricane Parenting.

There's a Max Lucado story that I find illustrates this time of my life so well.  It goes something like this:

Three men own a yacht, which they have docked in a small bay.  One day they hear that a hurricane is headed their way, and they begin to discuss ways to save their boat.  They come up with all sorts of plans that involve tying the boat to things, even sinking it, but then an old sea-farer tells them this: "If you want to save your boat there's only one thing to do.  Take her out to deeper waters and anchor her down.  The winds may toss and turn her, but the anchor holds fast and when the storm has passed, she will have survived."

The analogy is, of course, that the tossed boat is us, the storm is life, and the anchor is Christ.  If you hold fast to Him, then storms come and go, but you will remain.

Frankly, on days like today, 'hurricane parenting' days, I need to hear this over and over again.

Morning, and HELP!

I've been looking forward to today since Sunday. 

We live in a university town, and on Wednesdays the students have a day when they help in the community...and one of them is coming to help ME!!!  Cue the hysterical laughter!  The lovely Erin, who I've known since Samuel was 10 months, will be coming by to play with my insane toddler in the backyard while I clean.  Alone.  Alone!

It can't get much better than that, right?

Plus, despite all of us being really sick over here we had an amazing night's sleep.  Some of us more than others.  Clara fell asleep yesterday afternoon and slept almost 16 hours.  Samuel and David and I slept about 9 hours each, and now Clara is back in bed and asleep two and a half hours after she got up.

Plus, we're going to have chickenetti for supper, which I think I say with certainty that everyone loves.  It's hot, filling, um...chickeny.  Delightful.

So, generally speaking it's looking like a good day.

Here's my plan.

-Clean the bathroom
-finish all laundry
-unpack our clothes entirely
-dishes
-floors
-vacuum upstairs.

Think I can get it done?  Oh, and then I'm going to walk Erin back to the school with the children in tow, and hit the grocery store and the thrift store BOTH, with two kids (alright, I may be a little optimistic).  And buy cheese.  Maybe go to craft time?  Maybe?  I'm all a-flutter.

November 8th

Rich beef stew in the stoneware baker in the oven.  Oh I love my stoneware; seriously I think I use it more than anything else in my kitchen.  I'm even thinking of possibly hosting a Pampered Chef party just to get more stoneware.  It's an addiction.  I want this one, oh and this one, oh and THIS one, too.

You know what I'd really like?  If price wasn't at all an option?  This.  Of course I will never be able to afford it, but oh...

Anyway.

The beef stew recipe came from an old cookbook from 1982 called Kitchen Technique: A Complete Guide to Practical Cookery.  It's supposed to be the filling for a pie, but since we're eating as little refined white flour as possible these days, I skipped the pastry part and made it a stew.  It went over really well for lunch.

Feel terribly productive this morning because I finished the quilted placemat I'd promised to make for someone, sewed on the felt monogram this morning, and mailed it off without a problem.  I wish I had a camera right now so that I could have taken a picture.

I've also noticed how observant and prone to mimicking Samuel is becoming.  I want to take advantage of this stage before it passes, and so we're trying little 'dates' to teach social skills.  Today we went to a tea shop to practice how to behave in a restaurant.  Samuel had a hot chocolate and I had a cup of tea and we just had a nice time.  We talked about how once you're on your chair you don't keep hopping off, how if you spill something by accident it's ok, just use your napkin, don't fiddle with the sugar packets, etc.  He was so attentive and sweet and even held the door for me.  After our drink we went to look upstairs from the restaurant where they have a little art gallery, and when we came home that was the part that Samuel wanted to tell David about first; he'd seen pictures.

Our big vegetable pack that I ordered several weeks ago came in today.  It cost $25 but I've split the cost (and the produce) 50/50 with a friend.  The pack is 55lb of carrots, onions, cabbage, potatoes and squash, all locally grown.  Another way we're cutting food costs!  I also ordered us another freezer meat pack, which I'm very excited about.

Look at what I unpacked!

November 5th

I often feel super guilty about not 'entertaining' Samuel.  I recognize that I'm his main playmate, but honestly I feel so climbed on and over extended some days I just want him to leave me alone.  And then I feel guilty.  Take today, for example.  Samuel has had two walks today.  A friend's older child came over for half an hour and played with him.  Grandma and Grandpa read to him.  I let him 'help' me make pancakes and David and Grandpa let him 'help' outside with the car.  He went out to a restaurant for lunch, had a two hour nap and played tag with me in the basement.  Despite all of this interaction (and that's just what I can remember) I just told him to go somewhere and DO SOMETHING that didn't involve me or the television being on.  And then I feel guilty because I think I should be magically producing an interesting activity for him at any time that he's bored.  Except even typing those words makes me sound like a real patsy.

******

I'm trying to cut myself a little slack in terms of how long it's taking to set up and fit into this house.  I want the cats to stop crying already.  I want Samuel to stop freaking out about sleeping in his own room.  I want the two bookcases lying on their sides in my livingroom to just get moved out.  I want my phone to work again and my curtains up and to figure out where the heck I packed every coathanger I own so I can stop getting dressed out of a giant pile of stuff on the floor.

But I can't do these things because these are things that require time.  And despite all evidence to the contrary, I have very little of the sort of time needed for this kind of activity.  I need Clara asleep, because if she's awake she's a ticking time bomb of neediness.  I need Samuel asleep, preferably, or quietly occupied which, haha, almost never happens.  And for many of these things I need David home, and not sleeping, and me not exhausted, and it to be daylight out, and no guests, and a concrete plan in place.

******

Clara tried a few new foods today.  So far she's had cauliflower - hated it.  Pumpkin - disliked it but dealt.  Applesauce with cinnamon and vanilla bean - adored it.  Banana - adored it.  Chicken and turkey - both of which she was ambivalent about.  Mashed potato - adored it.  Spinach - meh.  This is pretty much in keeping with Samuel's likes and dislikes.  Everyone is a fan of fruit.

She had a bath in the sink tonight as well, which was incredibly cute.  I don't know why I ever bothered with baby bathtubs for Samuel at the beginning.  All it gave me was a crick in the back.  The sink is the way to go.

******

After supper tonight I dragged Samuel out for a walk.  He was worried because it was dark out, and he said he was afraid of the dark.  I have never heard this before; I don't know where it came from.  But anyway, I told him he didn't have to be afraid because I was with him, and Jesus was with him.  He wanted to know where Jesus was.  "He's in your heart."  He thought about that for a moment and then said "Yeah.  He's in my heart.  He can't get out."  I think I may have messed him up theologically.

Last night I finally caved a bit to David's increasingly insistant demands that I *do something* with Samuel's hair.  I've been letting it grow, because I think that his hair is beautiful and soft and golden and charming, and also because that floppity-hair look on little boys is adorable.  And also because I'm a bit lazy.  But two days ago I took pity on Samuel and trimmed some especially long hair that has been hanging in his eyes, and last night after his bath I brushed his hair, realized it was now past his shoulders, and took a few inches off the back with my sewing scissors.  I think he may look even cuter, if that's possible.  And now David can stop going on about that.

******

My inlaws are leaving tomorrow.  Whenever they come over they take on the task of doing all the dishes, and can I just say that I love. that.  Because dishes are my least favourite job ever.  But it will be nice to try and get stuff organized in my bedroom again.

November 4th

Am really tired.  I really just want to go to sleep and sleep straight through the night one night.  Well, I'm ok with nursing, but a reasonable amount.  Clara has recently decided she does not want to sleep in her little rocking basinette thing beside our bed.  She doesn't like it anymore.  So this is fine, but it means that until we get back into our master bedroom (David's parents are staying there right now) we can't set up the portable crib, which is the 'next stage' my babies go through, and instead she is sleeping with us.

My friends can tell you how I feel about sharing my bed with children.  I. don't. like. it.  This is a personal thing; I have many people in my life who bed share with great success and happiness, but I am not one of those people.  I like to sleep not touching anything, and on my stomach, and slightly star-fishy, and sleeping with children is not conducive to this.  Therefore they sleep, and I lie in a cramped position trying not to breathe so as to not wake them.

So yes, the portable crib.  She'll go into that until she isn't waking regularly to feed throughout the night, about a year or so, and then she'll go into the 'big' crib.  It's all about stages.

But Clara is not the only one unhappy at night these days, with her constant nursing and grouchiness.  Samuel is not having good overnights either.  He's up in the wee hours almost every night and climbing in with us.  I'm not sure why this is but I do know that he kicks a lot, and thrashes about hitting Clara in the head and waking her up, and kicking the cats and my legs and just generally being a very unpleasant person to share a bed with.

Two unhappy sleepers.  It wouldn't be so bad if they would nap simultaneously.  Because then I could put them down for naps and I could sleep for a few hours as well.  But usually Clara is tired and sleeps, and then when she wakes up Sam is tired, and then a third switch.  No sleep for Mama.  For a terrifying few days I thought Samuel was actually dropping his last nap, which would be horrific.  I need that nap.  That's my break from a toddler.  But of course it wouldn't be unusual for him to stop needing an afternoon nap - he is going to be 2 years and 8 months old.  But still.  Clara, thankfully, shows signs of being an excellent napper.  Two solid naps a day.  They've gone down a bit in length since birth but she's six months old.  How is that possible?

Speaking of which, I went to the doctor for something the other day and he asked about Clara and then said "Six months.  Time for another one."  Ohmygoodness.  I think I laughed and made some lame joke.

Wait, I was going to say something else about bedsharing.  It's funny the difference between the mother I feel I would be if the children were personality free and the mother I am.  I would not, for example, share my bed.  But my children have other ideas.  I would not probably be nursing an almost three year old, that's for sure.  Speaking of which, the weaning is going very well.  Samuel is down to nursing once a day.  He's being pretty good about it.  I think he'd still nurse all the time if he could, but he's content enough with what he's offered.  Clara is eating a wee little bit of solid food now, so she's thrilled with life.  Oh mashed banana, where have you BEEN all my life?

October 23rd

Okay, well I think I just need to bite the bullet on this.  I've not been posting much because I don't have a camera, and I don't like posts without pictures.  But since a camera is not going to arrive in my life anytime soon, I need to just keep posting.

The Advent exchange is up to 12 (12!) participants.  Holy mackerel guys, that's fantastic.  You've got till Thursday to let me know either here or on Facebook that you are going to join in the fun.  So pass on the info to friends who you think might enjoy the exchange.

The childs and their mama were off to week two of women's Bible study.  Oh heavens eight a.m. is just not a good time for me.  I'm not asleep till midnight, and then I nurse a baby twice between then and 6 when I am woken by a pee-soaked toddler climbing into bed with me.  So I do not want to get up, deal with feedings and dressings and washings and walkings and arrivings BY eight in the morning.  But I've done it anyway for two weeks now because I'm really liking these women, and I need to do more Bible study, I really do.

We move in ohmygosheightdays.  Let's not talk about it.

Which is also Hallowe'en.  Guess who thinks she can still make two costumes by hand and take the boy out trick-or-treating the evening of the day we move?  Go on, guess.  No, no, really, it's more fun this way.

Learning the alphabet by reading with Daddy.

I watched David and Samuel looking at a book today.  Samuel wants to look at grown-up books a lot, preferably while sitting on a lap and getting to turn the pages.  David had been paging through, I believe, The Encyclopedia of Bible Difficulties, and Samuel happily joined in.

It was a really sweet teaching moment to see.  Samuel pointed at the words and I asked him what they were: "words!" he told me, and then he told me that words are made up of letters.  David and I sang the alphabet song for him, and then David flipped through until he found the name Samuel and showed it to the boy.  They named the letters together.  It was sweet to see, and I discovered that Samuel really seems to be starting on the path to learning the alphabet, which is great.

They also came across the name Hosea at one point, and Samuel said that that word said 'Jesus'.  That turned into a conversation on to whom Jesus loves (hint: the answer rhymes with 'smeverybody), and then we got to name people.  This plays really well into night time prayers, because I've been trying (unsuccessfully until last night) to get Samuel to verbally participate in prayers rather than just listen to David or myself and occasionally chime in with 'Amen'.  Last night he was willing to repeat what we said; another step forward.

5 Blatently Obvious Parenting Observations

Even if you stretch your definition of 'mother' to include the earliest of early pregnancy, I have only been a mother for about 3 years.  That's a very short period of time; people grow their hair for three years to get it long enough to donate just once.  Three years is nothing.

On the other hand, three years is a really long time.  You can get a university degree in three years.  You can also, apparently, become the mother of two children and still be learning the basics of parenting.

Today I was thinking about everything I've learned since having Clara five weeks ago, and the list was pretty pitiful, as in it will help no one, really.  Still, for my own sake, here are the top 5 blatently obvious things I've learned about children.

1.  Babies are little.

They're really little.  Even if they're big babies, they're still really little.  If you keep reminding yourself of this fact every time you interact with them their behaviour makes a lot more sense.  When they do that 'arms flailing' thing?  That's because they think they're falling.  Because they're little.  When they poop in a clean diaper?  That's because they're little and they don't know any better.  When they want to nurse for hours or refuse to let you leave the room or want to follow you to the bathroom or gag on a cheerio?  It's all because they're little.

2.  Feeding them helps.

I have developed a very sophisticated rotating series of trial and error actions intended to calm all crying.  It's quite elaborate, so try and keep up, ok?  Number 1: Try food.  Number 2: Try changing.  Number 3: Try burping.  Repeat.  Literally, when Samuel cried I would feed him, and if that didn't work I changed him, and then burbed him.  If he was still crying I fed him again.  I just kept going until he fell asleep.

3.  Children will tell you things if you ask them.

This was a revelation to me!  Sometimes, when Sam is upset, and I say "Hey friend, why are you crying?" get this...he'll tell me why he's crying!  I know, right?  Crazy.  No guesswork involved.  But with Clara I have discovered something even more fascinating.  She will also tell me why she's crying without using words.  Tongue sticking out and head rotating means feed me.  Arms flailing and legs kicking means swaddle me.  Eyes fixated on me means talk to me.  It's nuts is what it is.

4.  Things that bother me also probably bother them.

I don't like coughing when I'm sick.  Neither do they.  I don't like having an upset stomach.  Neither do they.  I don't like being hot or cold or hungry or tired.  Neither do they.  And whatever I would usually do to fix the things I don't like are the same things I should think of as solutions to their problems.  So, if Samuel says his head hurts, and if my head hurt I would take a Tylenol and lie down in a dark room with some ginger ale, then it's not fair to say "Just close your eyes, buddy." or get on my high horse about not giving him a dose of Tylenol unless he 'really needs it'.  If he's in pain, he needs it. 

5.  They're not going to stop making toys and clothes.

These items are not going to disappear off the face of the earth tomorrow.  So it's ok to get rid of them once I don't need them anymore.  Really.

Maybe by baby #3 I'll be an old pro...

Works For Me Wednesday - Vol 3

In honour of new mothers who have toddlers, here's something so, so very simple I can't believe I haven't thought of it previously.  In fact, it's so simple I honestly think it may not be worth mentioning as something that works for me, since surely I am the very last person in the world NOT to have realized this.  But here goes:

You know when you make homemade salt dough for your toddler to play with?  Well, I make a lot of it around here, and then I put it in a Ziploc bag in the fridge, we get a week or so out of it, and I have to toss it away because it starts to acquire a certain mushy patina.

BUT, three things have revolutionized my playdough making.  The first is that you can make up the dry ingredients, in the proper ratio, and keep those until you need them.  It saves the whole 'where is my salt, oh I don't have the right flour, I'm too lazy to get up and make this right now' step.

Secondly, if you put the food colouring in with the water, it mixes up so much nicer and smoother and doesn't require 10 minutes of kneading to achieve a uniform colouring.

Thirdly, I now only make one colour at a time, instead of a rainbow of them.  Maybe that's just my child, but honestly he seems quite happy with whatever colour I produce, and is more into molding and shaping than creating much in the way of intricate design.

It works for me.

Samuel's Birthday Cake

sitting with his new bear.

cake is coming!

two years old.

but don't touch it!

blow on the candles...

Cake with Ms. Nancy

bear on the sleeping bag.

Butterscotch Pie!

I came home from work to such a surprise!  David and Samuel had made butterscotch pie for Mama.

March 20th

Do you see what I see?  A shaving brush appears to have joined the parade of 'favourite toys' right now.  Like Daddy, like son.

Saying Goodnight With Jesus

My two year old son started having 'bedtime troubles' a few weeks ago.  It began as a refusal to sleep in his crib and eventually progressed into full out screaming fits every time a nap or bedtime was even implied as well as wake-ups in the night that stretched for over an hour.  It got to be a stressful drain on my husband and I, especially seeing as we both essentially work shift work and I am due with our second child in a month.  Just as important, though, was the drain it was proving to be on our son; he was napping irregularly, crying himself to sleep, clearly agitated about something despite our very best efforts to soothe him, and exhausted most of the time.

Having tried all we could think of to keep him happy and sleeping in his room and in his crib, we eventually decided that perhaps the issue was one of simply growing out of his current bedtime arrangements.  So, we set up the toddler bed that we'd been saving for when (we thought!) he was older right beside our bed, and we started putting him in there, instead.

Almost immediately he took to this new sleeping situation like a duck to water.  Finally, we breathed a sigh of relief.  Yes, there were some serious drawbacks to sleeping in the same room as a two year old, not the least of which was how much it impacted MY bedtime routine, but it was, we reasoned, temporary.  I like to read before bed to help me sleep, and without that time I find it difficult to get rested, but I could cope.  I could cope with having to get changed in the hallway or grope in the dark for pajamas.  I could cope with suddenly having my bedroom 'off limits' from around 7pm onward.  The plan was that once he was 'settled' in this new bed, we would simply move the bed into his room.

This far-from-idyllic-but-at-least-functional situation lasted a few weeks before Samuel started to insist on falling to sleep nursing, a habit he had dispersed with on his own ages ago.  I've found nursing him to be a strain during my pregnancy, but since he seems to express no interest in weaning I've continued as I can, distracting him or saying 'no' when it isn't possible physically for me.  I wasn't very keen on having nursing re-enter our night time routine again, but it seemed 'easier' to just get him to sleep any way possible to avoid crying.  And it didn't take long, really, just a few minutes and he was out for the night.

Until he began creeping into our bed.  At first he was fine with falling asleep in our bed and getting transferred into his own when David came home from the night shift, but that progressed into harder and harder transitions back into his own bed.  Eventually, he wouldn't even lie down to sleep in his own bed at all, and even if he spent most of the night on his own mattress, many times I would wake up to find him squeezed in between us, demanding to nurse again and kicking up a huge fuss if I said no.  At the same time his bedtime got later and later, eventually moving from 6:30pm, where it had been for ages, to creeping upwards of 9pm some nights.  His waking time didn't change, though, to correspond to the new bedtime, remaining at around 6:30-7am.  He started having terrible days without naps, and then equally terrible days with three to four hour naps in the middle of them.  Some days he woke up clearly tired, cried the whole time he was up, threw multiple tantrums, and eventually crashed around 10am, and other days he sat in bed for two hours refusing to sleep no matter what we did.

As much as Samuel seemed agitated by sleeping and the routines surrounding it, it was affecting us even more.  My due date crept closer and the final few weeks of work carried high stress around them in addition to my physical capabilities decreasing.  David felt the strain of once more being called on to become the sole breadwinner in the house, as well as being in the midst of an intensive job search and taking on extra hours to pay for the baby's expenses.  The severe lack of adequate sleep made my morning sickness resume in full force, and David, whose immune system isn't the strongest anyway, fought constant headaches and a cold that refused to budge.

On a good night we could get Samuel into a bed, any bed, by around 8pm.  He often now had a list of demands that included nursing, sleeping on 'Daddy's pillow', a cup of water, food, certain toys, music on, lights on but dimmed, someone lying beside him, several books, songs and made-up stories, patting, a back scratch and numerous other 'extras' and even then I often had to creep out of the room.  I've never been one to use what works for others as a yardstick with which to measure my own 'success' in parenting, but this routine was, for us, a huge problem.  It wasn't working.  We have a double bed and it isn't big enough for three people to sleep in, and I don't like people touching me while I sleep.  I had to lie facing away from Samuel all night so he wouldn't pester me to nurse, and that gave me cramps.  David couldn't even access his side of the bed with the toddler bed blocking it and had to crawl from the bottom in, which was painful for him with a bad back after a nine+ hour shift.  I couldn't make my bed properly with the lack of room to move around the furniture, and that often resulted in the bottom sheet getting pulled up in the night leaving David and I sleeping on a bare mattress.

And still, despite it all, Samuel wouldn't sleep well.

Finally, tonight I was done.  I gave him fair warning at 7:45 that tonight was an 8pm bedtime.  No later.  Frankly, I think this is too late as it is, but I also knew he'd slept for 3 hours this afternoon and my chances of anything earlier were nil.  I offered to nurse him, but only in a chair in the livingroom, no nursing in bed.  And no cups of water, either; several times a week I've been changing sheets drenched with pee from an over-watered boy or water from an over-filled cup, and I'm tired of the laundry.  He didn't put up a fuss when I said 'bedtime', and duly followed me into the room.

The first conflict we encountered was where everyone was going to sleep.  I showed him his bed, with his pillow and special blanket, and his stuffed toys and told him that he would sleep there tonight.  I promised that I would lie beside him in bed while we read our story together, and although we had a bit of fussing it never became crying and the first hurdle was jumped.

Next we read our story, had a kiss and a hug, and I tucked him in and told him I would be back to check on him later and got up to leave.  The second conflict loomed as he wanted companionship to fall asleep.  I promised him several times I would be back, and I was only in the next room if he needed me, and eventually he was reassured enough to lie down and let me go with, again, a minimum of fussing.  Problem two dealt with.

I wandered around the house not getting involved in any one project because I knew that the third big issue was about to start.  Inevitably, I get called back into the room every night and Samuel demands that I lie down with him, or nurse him, or fetch him something he's forgotten.  If I ignore these protests, they get louder and more shrill and are accompanied by the pattering of little feet into the hallway!  If he's marched back to bed, tears ensue and the process starts from square one again.

Tonight was no different and about 10 minutes after 'lights out' I heard the tell-tale "Mommy!" coming from behind my door.  Sure enough, tonight he wanted me to lie down with him and nurse.  Instead, I had what I can only think of as a flash of divine insight and rather than lying down I sat on the end of the toddler bed and quietly told Samuel that it was bedtime and that sometimes it was hard to sleep alone, and so tonight we were going to talk to Jesus about it together.  He was pretty reluctant, but I squeezed my eyes shut and clasped my hands to show that I wasn't talking to him anymore, and started to pray.

At first my prayers were as they usually are when I pray with my son, simplistic and easy to understand, very much of the 'thank you God for Mommy and Daddy' variety.  Tonight a funny thing happened, as I was praying for Samuel aloud, my prayers became more than lip-service and I found myself praying for him truly, as I would on my own.  I'm not certain, thinking back on it, that my son has ever seen me really pray; I tend to pray in silence and alone.  He was listening, though, and I heard him mimic back a few words.  At the end of our few minutes together I told Samuel again that Jesus was right here with him, and that if he needed to, he could talk to Jesus as well whenever he felt like it.  I told him I would be in the house and I would check on him later, and I got up and left.

There was a momentary fuss, and then some mild muttering could be heard as he chattered himself to sleep, but within ten minutes silence had descended on the bedroom.  When I peeked in later he was asleep still in his own bed, under the covers, and with his head on the pillow rather than with covers strewn everywhere, toys thrown in frustration and lying half on his bed and, defiantly, half on ours.

I don't know exactly what to make of this, but if prayer helps him sleep well (and I guess we'll know tomorrow) then prayer it shall be!

The first big, fat, public tantrum.

Oh, I think we all knew that this day would come.  Samuel and I had been at playgroup for a few hours, we'd had lunch and it was getting close to nap time, but we didn't quite make it out in time.  A block was thrown across the room, and I said.

"We don't throw blocks.  Please go pick it up."

And you know what happened next, of course.  He said no.  And I was faced with the 'is this the hill I want to die on?' question.  Every arguement, every difference of opinion, every debate I've had I ask myself "Is this worth it?  Is it worth it to keep going with this battle?  Is this the hill I want to die on?"

And today, I don't know, today it was.  I was crampy and achy and fat and 30 weeks pregnant and taking that thrown block to heart in a million and one ways.  And this was the hill I was going to die on.

I got up (in itself an indication of how serious I was) and I waddled over to him, and I held his hand and said:

"We don't throw blocks.  You have to pick up that block that you threw and put it away."
"No."

And I sat down with him on my lap and pointed at that block.

"That block that you threw?  That's your block to put away.  Do you want me to help you put the block away?"
"No."
"Samuel Timothy Frederick you will put that block away."
"No."
"Fine.  Then we'll sit here."

He cried.  He cried and he twisted in my grip and he fought me tooth and nail.  That block was not going away and so help him Lord he was going to die on that hill.   We must have sat there for ten minutes.  Screaming bloody murder.  Me trying every option I knew.  Would he like to push the box for the blocks over here and put it away?  No.  Would he like to pick it up and give it to me and we could walk together and put it away?  No.

Ten minutes in he said he wanted to get up.  We got up.

"Time to put that block away."
"No."

He threw himself on the floor screeeeeeeammming.  I walked away.  This wasn't acceptable so he followed me ON THE FLOOR.

"You threw that block.  We don't throw blocks.  You have to pick up that block and put it away."
"Nonononononono."

I cleaned up the other toys but that block sat on the carpet.  "Don't pick up that block." I told the playgroup worker.  "Why?"  "Because" I said through gritted teeth "That's OUR block to deal with."
She backed away a little.

Samuel got up, dusted himself off and went to play with the dollhouse.  I walked over and took the toys out of his hands.

"We have to pick up that block.  No other toys until that block is picked up."
"NO!"

He tried for another toy.

"No.  We do not get to play with any. other. toys. until you have picked up that block."
"No!  Mama no! No!"

He fought me for the toy and I had to pry it out of his hands.  He threw himself back onto the carpet.  This was about 20 minutes in now.  The other children were gone, the playgroup was over.  It was time to leave.  I picked him up and walked over to the block.  He wanted to nurse.

"We can nurse once you've picked up the block."
"No."
"Do you want me to help you pick up the block?"
"No."

He collapsed into tears again.  The playgroup workers said "It's 1, we're closed now."

I picked up the block and tossed it into the basket.

The whole way home I fumed.  I fumed up the stairs.  I fumed taking his coat off.  I fumed putting him into the crib for a nap.  He kicked and screamed and fell asleep.

Samuel: 1.  Mama: 0. 

Monday morning successes.

After, ahem, figuring out the constipation issues that have been plaguing him for the past few days, Samuel seemed in a much better mood this morning.  So much so that when he woke up before 6am and started loudly demanding to be taken from his crib and brought into the big bed, I was ok with that.  Good mood+some early morning nursing might equal a fairly good day.  Maybe even a long nap.  MAYBE even going back to bed!

But when, after 30 minutes, he did go back to bed it was to scream and yell and bang his crib railing against the wall for an hour and a half, interspersed with brief periods of silence just long enough to allow us to fall back asleep before being startled awake again. 

"I swear, David, if you get up and just make him an egg or something I promise you on my dead grandfather's grave that I will take him to music class and give you an hour at home by yourself."

"If I take him out of bed you know perfectly well he's going to be in this room like a shot, climbing all over you.  How do I bar the door?"

"I don't care if you move the couch in front of the door, just give me another hour of sleep.  Make bacon.  There's bacon in the freezer.  Fry up bacon and he'll stay with you, I promise."

But the bargaining wasn't working and we both ended up having to get out of bed.  We both got to enjoy the first tantrum of the day.  Things picked up slightly in excitement with the discovery that the hot water heater was broken, but the real highlight of the day was figuring out that if I told Samuel he would look just like Bob the Builder if I put overalls on him, I actually was successful in getting him into pants.  This might mean that he wears nothing but overalls for the next few years, but who cares?

Didn't you hear me?  He's WEARING PANTS!!

What Almost-Two Looks Like

In the past two weeks my boy has turned from a darling, sweet, and wonderful little person into a serious cranky-pants.

Two years old.  Charming.  Because...

being two years old means hitting everything with the broom.
being two means toruring the cats.
being two means yes, I do want to read a book, but...OH MY GOSH I SUDDENLY DON'T!!!!
it means...

No pants.  No pants on and no pants off.  No socks.  No shirt.  For the love of Pete no shirts with buttons on them, the horror.  No shoes.  No blue boots, only red boots.  No snowsuits, only coats. No mittens.  No hat.  NO HAT!!

Because two is wanting a bubble bath more than anything in the world until you're IN the bath at which point it is utter torture and you spend your whole bath whining and complaining and trying to pull the plug.

Two is never, ever ever ever wanting to be changed regardless of how disGUSTing the situation has become and how clean you will be in only a few minutes if you would stop trying to wipe your feet in your diaper.

Two is eating nothing but spinach nuggets and ginger ale for two days.  Two is insisting on bananas and apple juice and then throwing them.  Two is kicking.  Two is yelling.  Two is long, drawn out stories about snow and people outside.  Two is endless, endless Bob the Builder episodes.

I'm having some trouble with this almost-twoness right now.

Multiple children in small bedrooms - is it possible?

This is a very long post.  It's so long I should split it into sections, but I'm not going to.

I'm fascinated by the sleeping options there are now for children sharing a small room!  Take a look at these:

This is a trundle bed


Your general service trundle bed.  Buy it anywhere, in any colour.

You can buy it alone, for a few hundred dollars, and roll it under an existing twin bed to make room to sleep a second child.

But, I mean, why stop there?

Let's say you need to fit two children in one room but can't sacrifice the storage provided under the bed?  You can also get the trundle bed with drawers.

A twin bed with a trundle and three storage drawers.

Ok, but let's say you need to fit two children in the room but also have the room be a playroom or even a living space?  You can get a daybed with a trundle bed, to maximize the use of a room...

Or..

you can get a daybed with a trundle bed, and the storage drawers as well.  So, you get a sofa, two beds and a storage space!

Ok, so you like that, but the drawers make the trundle too high up for your little person?  No problem.  You can get a daybed, with a trundle bed BELOW the drawers.  And lest you think the drawers opening would be inconvenient and squeeze the mattress, you can have the drawers come out either side of the bed.  Now the mattress is low, the storage isn't sacrificed, you fit two children in the room and you have a sofa space.


Sleep two children, with three storage drawers and a sofa space for $500 new.

Or you could get a pop-up trundle bed that converts from a twin to a king size.


Alright, but what about when you don't need a trundle bed forever?  Your children aren't going to want to sleep in this configuration for good, so then what?  Well, you could get a twin bed, with a trundle bed that has three drawers...AND a separate unit to use once you no longer need the trundle bed.  Pop out the trundle with three drawers, and slide in the large, four drawer storage unit.  And the trundle and drawer unit can go fit under another bed.


Shown with the trundle/three drawer configuration but available as a four-drawer too.

Now, you've clearly fallen in love with the daybed/storage/trundle configuration, as I have, because you're no fool.  But the child on top - won't they fall on the child below?
Nope. 

 - You can get the twin bed with a safety rail and a trundle bed.
 - Or the daybed with the safety rail and a trundle bed.
 - Or a toddler bed, which has built in safety rails...and a trundle bed.

But you have MORE than two children to fit in this room, right?  You have a six year old, a four year old, and a two year old.  It's a little room and you've got a lot of children to squeeze in.  So you can use bunk beds with a trundle bed.

Ok, ok, let's just say it.  You hate bunk beds because of the ladder-is-dangerous bit.  No problem.  I present to you, bunk beds, with a trundle bed, with three large storage drawers, and stairs.


It solves practically every problem there is in the world.

If you can squeeze two people into a full-size bed, you can do the same configuration but a bit wider (with or without the ladder):


Four people can sleep here!

Or if space is very, very tight, you can use a bunk bed, with the bottom bunk made as a futon for your sofa option, but able to fold down to sleep two.  Add a trundle bed to that and you can sleep four people in a room.  When it's all folded up in the morning it won't take up much more floor space than a twin bed.

That's crazy compact. But not as crazy as this:

Yeah, that's a set of bunk-cribs.  Where are your children sleeping, the closet?

Now, all of these are cool, without a doubt.  But at some point you get into 'barracks' mode and you need to pull out the BIG GUNS.  Take a look at these inspirational spaces:

I imagine that four girls would adore such a grown-up looking room.  Though, do
those top bunks look ridiculously high to anyone else?



Perfect for a smaller space.  You could even make those under-the-bed areas built in drawers
for a more streamlined look.



A bit 'too' barracks?  Still, imagine how light and airy!

This looks incredibly treacherous to me, but whimsical, too.



I had my wedding reception in a smaller area than this, but it does show
you how lovely a few architectural details can make a room.

  

My goodness.



An excellent use of a long, narrow attic space.

 And if you start to think about space-saving, you really need to consider the usefulness of the space you do have.  The last picture up there illustrates a great use of a long, narrow space to fit four beds with under-bed storage.  Here are some other long, narrow space options:

Anyway, clearly space doesn't have to be an issue.  Anything, simply anything is possible.





Buying a Carseat for Baby #2

This is the carseat we bought for our son, Samuel.  It's an Eddie Bauer Deluxe 3-in-1 that will work as a rear-facing seat up to 35lbs and front facing from 22-50lbs.  At which point it will convert into a booster seat that works up until 100lbs.  All of these are great attributes, but none of them is the *real* reason we bought this seat.  I had no experience at all with babies until I had one.  I knew that a) children sat in car seats when they were little and then at some point in the future no longer sat in them and b) that when I was a little girl I had to sit on a booster seat that looked like a stepstool with a brown velvet cover (it was very 80's).

When we were expecting our son we went to Walmart and bought this:

Or at least something very similar to it.  It was a crummy stroller and a terrible infant bucket seat that took forever to do up with a squirmy baby in it.  I detested it, and Samuel grew quickly anyway, and so we knew we needed another seat and I was darned if I was going to buy something that would frustrate me as much as the Safety 1st bucket seat had frustrated me.  The only carseat I'd ever seen in action was for my nephew, and so I went to Sears and purchased the exact same model (same fabric and everything) that my sister and brother in law had for their son.  It cost around $250, which made me confident that it wasn't a cheaply made seat, and that was that, I thought.

But I feel as though I've had nothing but problems with this seat.  To start with, it has a level on the side that, to be level with the ground, requires the seat to be practically lying down in the car.  I've actually been in cars where I couldn't install the seat rear-facing and had to install it front facing simply because the front seat wouldn't move up far enough.  I've had to start carrying a towel with me in case the seats of the car are overly sloped when I install my carseat.  The level drives me crazy.  And then there's the tightening belt, which requires my full weight on it to make it tighten.  And the seat is so large that it takes up half of the back seat of a car, making anyone who shares the back seat with my son very squeezed.

So.  Anyway.  The seat works, and it was expensive and I have no intention of replacing it for the reasons listed above.  But I also don't want to buy the same seat for baby #2.  I'm exhausted by the prospect of having to research and choose another car seat, and yet that seems to be what's going to have to happen.

Tell me, what car seats do you use and why?  I already know the answers for a few friends, but strangers? Romans?  Countrywomen?  Ahem, speak to me.

Stringing beads for toddlers

It never ceases to amaze me how quickly Samuel's abilities, likes and dislikes change.  I discovered the other day that stringing things together is actually something he's interested in doing now, and that particular skill always struck me as something that older children did.  Like, much older children; maybe four.  Also, I thought this was a girl thing.  Why did I think that?  I don't know, I just have memories of plastic bead jewellery making kits from my childhood (again, when I was, like, eight or something, not under two) and how intricate the beading was or, alternatively, how cheap and plastic-y with those long rubber lanyard type strings.  Anyway, I know that there are larger beads out there specifically for little hands, but they just flew under my radar.  Finally, I have to say that any little boy whose idea of a fun activity is jumping on the cat is probably not (in my opinion) going to sit quietly and in a not-frustrated way string beads.

But, this is where I was wrong.  Because Samuel is really interested in this skill, despite my complete disbelief and feelings of "whose child is this?" every time I see him sitting patiently trying to stick a piece of thread in a hole the size of a screw head.  I had been giving him dried pasta, but, of course, he can't quite manage that, and so I thought the other day that perhaps I could buy him some beads that would be very easy to string.



Melissa and Doug Toddler Beads



So first I found these ones, the Melissa and Doug bead set.  But I've purchased some Melissa and Doug stuff before, and I always find the paint comes off.  I'm trying very hard to re-adjust my thinking from "I have one child who is almost two" to "I have two children, one toddler and one newborn" and purchasing things accordingly, so the paint chipping was an issue for me.

Plan Toys Toddler Beads

Then I found the Plan Toys bead set, which is stained rather than painted, but it's also, oh, about $15!  Holy hoppin'!  $15 is too much for wooden beads.

So I turned to Etsy to see what they had and found lots of unfinished wooden beads, some that even came complete with paint, twine and a storage jar...but everything required, well, a lot of effort.  I know how lazy that sounds, but the idea of hand-painting 48 individual wooden beads exhausts me, and that's just how it is right now.

Anyway, I knew there had to be a way to make beads that would string together easily, and to that end I thought of modelling clay.  The modelling clay that's sold in stores around here seems to be pretty expensive, though, for the amount you get.  Enough to make perhaps 24 large toddler beads would be in the region of $6, which isn't ridiculously expensive, but is more than I would spend casually.  However, when I taught Sunday School I often brought in the ingredients to make home made playdough for the children and, after some Googling, discovered in this simple recipe, that the ingredients are the same for play dough and for a dough that can be dried and kept.

*1 cup of table salt
*4 cups of flour
*water to make a dough (approx. 1.5 cups)

The ingredients for this cost me perhaps $3, maybe, and will give me dozens of beads!

Now, if you are planning on painting your beads, or leaving them plain, then the list above is complete.  If you want to colour your beads without paint, as I did, you'll need to either add food colouring, or else tint the water with something coloured.

First I made up the batch of dough and split it into eight sections.  Each section made about 10 large beads.  I tried colouring some of the dough with spices (tumeric made a fantastic pale yellow and paprika a soft orangey-brown) and I also gave food colouring a go as well for a pale green/blue.  I rolled out my dough and cut thick circles with the rim of a glass, and then smaller circles inside using the lid of a container.  Then I dried them in a 200 degree F. oven for about two hours, flipping over once.

They looked like large, colourful doughnuts, sort of.

The remaining five sections I wrapped in a damp cloth and put in my fridge in a Ziploc bag.

Samuel's reaction to my homemade beads?


Broken, broken, broken.

So, clearly I need to rethink the method here.  Maybe a different shape?  Maybe varnishing?  Hmmm...if you are one of those incredibly crafty mothers who does this sort of thing with your hands behind your back, do pipe in any any point and give me suggestions!  Unless you also happen to have great hair.  'Cause if you're super crafty AND have great hair, well, we were simply not meant to travel in the same circles.