Tag Archives: Toddler

The Precious Age

1000228_10151612210048860_473410485_nWe moved house 2.5 years ago. My daughter had just turned four the month before. My son was 20 months old.  He had been sick from months 6-14, and I called him my Velcro Baby. He couldn’t be out of my arms. Ever. When we moved house, it freaked him out and it was a solid 6 weeks before I could even walk out of a room without him freaking out. It’s all ages and stages, all phases that we pass through. I remember meeting my new neighbors. Kids hanging off me, explaining I’m a stay-at-home-mom. They always asked how old the kids were and always responded with “aww, such a precious age.” I’d look at them like they were insane. WTF was so precious, can you tell me? I still didn’t get to shower on any regular basis. Had 27lbs permanently attached me to me along with a four-year-old hurricane that went to battle with me at every turn.

Precious my ass.

I usually responded with my oblivious, socially unaware bluntness and got the shocked stares in response. Oh well.

But now, things are different. My velcro baby has essentially flown the nest and couldn’t care less where I am. My six-year-old has now realized that she’s her brother’s equal (in my  eyes) and I am able to devote time directly to her without a sick baby attached to me. I can kiss her goodnight and whisper in her ear that I’m so lucky I get to be her Mommy, that I’m so lucky I get to be with her every day and see that smile that lights up a room. I watched her purr in response, squeezing me tight and I know I’ve just given her the warmest, squishy feeling she adores.

Yesterday, my escaped mental patient (who just turned four, by the way) took a rare nap in the afternoon. As per my usual routine, I enter their bedroom before I go to bed to kiss each one on the cheek. Last night, the boy was still awake even though it was 9:30pm. “Mommy, is it morning?” he whispers. “No darling, Mommy is just going to bed.” But I first smother his face with kisses. I look at that perfect face and feel his little arms and hands wrap around my neck just so he can hold me.  I begin to tell him how lucky I am to be his Mommy and how much I love him. I hear back how much he loves me, and he means it. Because small kids don’t like or say things because they’re supposed to. They only say it when they mean it. And it hits me how precious this age is, including my 6-year-old hurricane’s age.

There’s a possibility that when she turns 7, I’ll have a slight mental breakdown. Seven just seems so old to me. Ridiculous, I know but seven is so much closer to a teenager than the small years that have just flown by. I get to sleep through the night now and can enjoy my kids more. I can appreciate them more. So yes, this is a precious age. Six and four are as precious as can be. Just don’t be alarmed if someone looks at you like you’re the devil when you say that to them because they have absolutely no idea what it’s like at that very moment for you, and don’t feel bad if you don’t immediately agree with them.  My first go-round with four was so rough. The second time, I’m able to stand back and realize how awesome this age is. I currently don’t have an emotionally clingy baby attached to me and he’s not sick anymore. I’m able to stand back and can now say that “yes, yes this is a precious age.”

Now. If only time would stand still.

The Universe Answered.

IMG_1186I was begging for mercy just a short while ago in regards to potty training. Something has clicked with my little three year old escaped mental patient and all of a sudden, he’s barely having any accidents at all. We automatically put on the cutest little pair of boxer briefs every morning and the diapers have been retired from daytime duty. Woo-Hoo!!!! As an added bonus, he prefers to have privacy when he goes potty and wants to wipe his own bum. That he actually does a pretty good job of wiping is the Universe spoiling me.

Aside from making the usual big deal “YOU WENT POTTY!!!!” smiling and clapping like an idiot, I began The Spin. Each time he goes potty, I take him in my arms and spin around really fast ten times. He loves loves loves this, and at the moment, I reserve it for potty time. After that, I chase a naked butt that bounces around the house with still the hint of that special toddler run. It’s not a stride but part hop, part jump and part run. He then decides to run back into my arms so I can tickle him and smother him with kisses. It’s pretty damn awesome, in fact.

So thank you, Universe. Thank you. <3

Raising Toddlers.

I saw this post and loved it enough to repost. There are few articles that I feel nail it on the head when it comes to small children and this succeeds.

4 Things I Wish I’d Known When I Was Parenting Toddlers the First Time Around

1. It really is this hard. You’re not doing anything wrong.

“If I could go back, I would say, relax. Tantrums, running away, accidents, lost belongings, mischievous nap times… it’s all a normal part of toddler life. I wasn’t making life harder than necessary. Raising two toddlers really is just that hard.”

Potty Training. An open letter to the Universe.

IMG_2510Dear Universe,

Please. I am done with pee and poop. It’s been years. Did you hear me? YEARS! Not only do I have a blind dog that randomly pees around the house, I’m onto year number six of cleaning poop from bums. And now we are potty training. Odd as it sounds, I think I almost prefer diapers to this potty training business. At least it is predictable. While my three year old does a great job of using the potty when he’s naked, the little mental patient doesn’t understand that underwear isn’t a diaper and without fail, will soil himself. The unmistakable scent of urine wafts permanently through the house now no matter how many loads of laundry I do.  So we live in a constant state of red alert. You never know when those accidents are going to happen. Asking him if he needs to go potty just antagonizes him. He’ll go when he’s ready, and refuses to think ahead on these matters.

I understand this is a transitional phase. But it’s as much fun as when kids transition to dropping naps. Napping is great, not napping is great. But that hellish phase in between? Oh yeah baby!

So please look down kindly on us. My washing machine could do with a break and my sanity could do with saving.

Thank you.
The Ragged Mommy.

P.S.  Seriously, how does one get rid of this smell from clothes?

 

So, back to being a bad parent.

Whether it’s exhaustion or just frustration from two young children (seriously, how does anyone do more than two?), I’ve come close to reaching my limit. It has strangely coincided with my son roaring his way into the Threes. Now, things have morphed to where I am beyond sensitive parenting. I’m past caring what damage I do. Sometimes I just have to shut behaviors down. For example, today my son was joyously jumping up and down that he had peed in the potty. I give him my best ever happy face, a cheek-splitting-smile while telling him how happy I am for him. He bounces his way over to me and then he bites my leg.

What.The.F&*K.

Immediately, I tell him no biting. Instead of being sorry, or even looking sheepish, he defiantly says “I bite Mommy.” Well then, thank you very much. After this behavior, I’m a whole lot less likely to care when he has a tantrum. I wonder if this is nature’s way of pulling me back emotionally. He’s not so endearing when he looks like Dracula.  There is no logic to this three-year old beast. His repeated outbursts of ridiculousness remind me daily that he’s an escaped mental patient.  The constant exposure I have to this has also somewhat numbed me to the screaming (mine and his).

1003716_10151588618398860_619910048_nI will admit that more often than not, the answer to his tantrum is very simple. Sometimes, when I calm down and look straight at him, he will lower the decibel.  And then I close up the issue, whatever it was, by asking him if he wants a hug. Because he always does. He screams and freaks out regularly, because so much of this world is beyond his control. When he is frustrated or angry or sad or simply not getting what he wants, the outpouring of any emotion is a tantrum. As if the intensity of the emotion is too big for his little body and it has to come out somehow. Which leaves him feeling drained and sad, and in need of some loving. That’s where the hugs come in. As a mother, you know when that moment is – when the fight is over and they just need a hug. Sometimes I don’t want to give a hug, but I do it because it lets him know that I am there for him, even if I want to strangle him.  Inevitably, 30 seconds later, he is back to his old happy self, as if nothing ever happened (how do they do this??).

Mother nature has a funny way of working. This struggle may be her design or it may simply be because I am clueless as to what I am doing. I never had the twos- or threes-issue with my daughter (her fours were another matter of affairs!). Either way, it’s kicking my ass.

Baby Creed

  1. If it is quiet, scream.
  2. If it has a button, push it.
  3. If you see it, taste it.
  4. If it has liquid, pour it.
  5. If it is clean, throw up on it.
  6. If it is fragile, break it.
  7. If it is inedible, eat it.
  8. If it has a lever, pull it.
  9. If it is bedtime, wake up.
  10. If it is a door, open it.
  11. If it is a hole, fill it up.
  12. If it is juicy, smash it.
  13. If it’s high up, jump off it.