Tag: fun?

children, parenting, terrible twos

The Sorry Moat

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We went to a park we’ve never gone to before today. It turns out to be very cool. It is constructed mostly of wood and is shaped like a castle and a fort. It is huge. I tell Mad Dog I won’t be able to take the boys to this park by myself. I would lose track of them easily and heaven forbid, one of them might fall into the moat (okay, there isn’t a moat but how fun would it be if there was one?).

After chasing them at length through the sprawling castle compound, we casually redirect them to a smaller, more confined area. That way Mad Dog and I can sit on the sidelines and have a complete view of their shenanigans. The weather today has been pitch perfect so it feels awesome to sit back and catch a cool breeze (apparently there are some cool breezes to be found in Florida, who knew?).

Full Speed plays for a bit then heads over to us to negotiate his release back to the castle playground. He’s very logical about it. “Why doesn’t one of you stay here to watch T.Puzzle and the other comes to watch me at the castle?” We rail against this as we are tired and want to stay put. He shrugs his shoulders and darts back off to play.pa293440

In the meantime, little brother T.Puzzle has befriended a mild-mannered toddler girl. They are playing nicely at first. Then, he starts to make animal sounds at her. He’s growling and barking. She’s game and returns the favor. For some reason this angers him. He cocks his arm back and lets loose on her. I jump immediately to my feet and chide him to not hit. He instantly drops in to the ‘I-am-sorry formation’. This means his arms are limp at his sides and he says ‘sorry’ over and over. Sometimes I wonder if he even knows what the heck he’s supposed to be sorry about. I make him apologize to the girl and give her a hug. She cringes in fear until she realizes his intentions are actually good. Then he is brusquely escorted to time-out. He refuses to stay put. He is shimmying his little butt all over the place except the designated point of punishment. When I scold him for that, he picks up some playground mulch and chucks it at my head. Guess what? Playtime’s over.

We head to the car and I’m carrying him like a sack of potatoes (albeit it a highly emotional, screaming sack of potatoes). I drop him next to the car (not on his head, no need to call any authorities) and let Mad Dog take over. Eventually, T.Puzzle really is sorry and gets his act together.

I’m upset and feel the steam of anger rising in me. I have a hard time letting bad behavior like this go. I need to take a lesson from Mad Dog. He claims he has selective memory and only recalls the good in life. He also claims this is the secret to a good marriage. I have to agree but sometimes I’d rather just toss somebody in a moat and call it a day.

children, mommy cliques, mommyhood, terrible twos

I Should Have Stayed Home

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This is the dilemma. Do you wait until your child can properly behave themselves in public (which could take years) to venture from your home or do you never, ever leave your house? This has been my plight since Full Speed was aggressively mobile (at about seven months of age). I have always been on the side of pushing forward and attempting to be social and expose my boys to world experiences. However, when I’m in the middle of one such experience, I often wish I had just stayed home.

I took T.Puzzle to the library for story time this morning. In the past I’ve had both boys with me and the result was often disastrous. I hoped that since I was playing him man-to-man, it would be tolerable and holding out all hope, enjoyable.
Your Frick can Read

Summer is the last time I went to story time at the library. The memories of social hierarchy come back to me in a rush as soon as the first clique-ish group of Moms walk through the door. My stomach does an unpleasant back flip as I realize that high school is never really over. I hate clique-y Moms. I’ve been a Mom long enough now that I don’t even pretend to try to talk to them. Life is easier that way.

T.Puzzle is hyper (I know, it’s like saying T.Puzzle is breathing). I think he senses that the more embarrassing he acts, the more anxiety it produces in his Mom. He must think that’s cool because he is very out of control. At one point he begins to make spitting noises. I lean down and say, “You spit again and we leave.” Story time was not going well.

He was not acting like himself. He was kind of clingy, wasn’t dancing or clapping (which at home is totally his thing) and he kept telling me to stop singing (which was getting on my last nerve). He looks at me thoughtfully and spits. He clearly wants to leave. He even tugs on my shirt and confesses, “I spit, Mommy. I go home.”

Another dilemma. I am always extremely conscious about what I say to the boys. If a threat escapes my lips, I am fully prepared to back it up. I want my words to have weight. I want them to know when I speak, it’s the truth and that I am consistent. If they don’t learn to respect my words now, what am I going to do when they are fifteen and seventeen respectively and are a head taller than me (fingers crossed Full Speed) and weigh more than me (fingers crossed me!)?

Ultimately, we didn’t go home. I felt T.Puzzle was playing the system and being sneaky to get what he wanted. We plundered through the remaining five minutes of songs and stories. This whole time I imagine staying in our house this morning might have been the right choice.

However, that’s not how I roll. You can defy me, you can act a fool and you can spit at me, but dammit, we are getting out there and we are going to live life. Some Moms may pretend we don’t exist, and yet other Moms will feel validated that they aren’t the only ones with devilish offspring. It matters not. We will always leave the safety (and boredom) of our house and someday, I hope manners and good grace find us. Until then, have compassion if you see us in public. I apologize in advance.

children, mommyhood, rock and a hard place

Hot Bananas

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You know in life that sometimes you have to pick your battles. Sometimes you’ll let your two year old change into an orange Lightning McQueen t-shirt when you had already placed a perfectly acceptable navy blue Lightning McQueen one on him. In life, you aren’t going to win them all.

When Mad Dog originally wanted to take our then two and a half year old Full Speed to see the first Transformers movie, I resisted. It seemed too violent and full of innuendo for me to think it was a good fit for Full Speed.  After a lot of persistence on Mad Dog’s part I relented. You know pick your battles and all.

So of course when the second Transformers movie came out you know who and who were first in line. Fine. At least I didn’t have to go.

Now this cinematic wonder is out on DVD. We own it. Of course.

Full Speed has adjusted fairly well to seeing the violent action. He doesn’t have scary nightmares and honestly, he is exactly as hyper as he was before (off the charts).

Well, my opinion of the movie’s effect may have shifted slightly this morning. I was eating breakfast with my adorable boys. We had a lengthy discussion about omnivores vs. herbivores (Full Speed loves dinosaurs).  T.Puzzle sang ‘Hakuna Matata’ and I announced that everyone who was eating at the table were bananavores. They thought that was giggly silly. I even belted out a few bars of ‘Hakuna Matata’ myself.

Full Speed looks at me and says, “You’re hot, but not too bright.” He means it as a way to compliment my singing but I don’t find this very complimentary. I’m speechless in fact. It didn’t feel like a very proud parenting moment either.

In the second Transformers movie there is a point when an evil robot thing refers to Megan Fox’s character in the same way. In that context it seems fitting. At home eating breakfast with my two boys it does not.

I asked Full Speed to not say that again and let it go at that. I didn’t make a big deal about it because I wasn’t sure where to begin. I would have to define ‘hotness’ and wasn’t sure how to make the term relatable to a five year old. Then, I would have to go off into the feminist juncture about never insulting a woman’s intelligence or evaluating her based primarily on her appearance. That seemed like a whole lot of heavy discourse before 8 a.m. We hadn’t even finished our bananas yet.

Surprised Frack

life in pictures, mommyhood, self-discovery

Wait for It

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Patient Full Speed is home for the week. It’s not as an intimidating prospect as it used to be because he is much easier to manage. When I was pregnant with him years ago, I had these deluded fantasies that he would accompany me on all my errands throughout the week and we would laugh and giggle and have a grand ol’ time. That was before I understood the subtleties of childhood temperament and the level of movement needed to maintain an active baby’s contentment. In other words, I didn’t know a darn thing about raising a stubborn, hyperactive boy who was constantly in motion.

Almost from the moment I brought him home it was like an assault of shock and awe. He wasn’t fond of sleep, needed constant stimulation and he was a non-believer in staying in one place. My dreams of having pleasant company as I made my way through the mundane tasks of existence quickly evaporated in a hyperactive cloud of smoke. I soon learned to do more in less time and to always be moving when doing so. For example, I could make it through a run for groceries if I did just that. Run. I would literally have to move through the store at a slow and steady jog. If I paused for a moment, Full Speed would freak. Constant movement was the key to keeping him seated and quiet. I would get to the check-out and all hell would break loose because we would be at a standstill. Oh, the fond, fond memories.

Since his little brother has taken over the reigning crown of difficult small person in our home, I am now often surprised to find how much I enjoy my time with Full Speed these days. We have very similar senses of humor and can crack each other up just by a look or a word. He’s comical. He must have gotten the funny gene from my Mom. She was hilarious.

He has been accompanying me to my allergy shots and he loves it. Surprisingly, so do I (the company, not the shots). He is calm (mostly) and respectful (mostly). He can actually entertain himself so even if it takes a long time, there is not a meltdown in sight.

We did run in to a small catch today. An elderly woman came through the door of the allergy office with a walker and Full Speed loudly says, “What in the world is that thing?” He said it rather rudely, too.

Oh, you Moms out there know the feeling of awkward embarrassment a child’s curiosity and their inability to filter their thoughts can cause. Every Mom has a similar story (that is if your child can speak). The kind of story where your child states the obvious and the recipient of this obvious observation is less than pleased.

How did I handle it? I faced it head on. “Full Speed, it is called a walker that helps her to keep steady. It isn’t rude to wonder what it is, but the way you asked about it was disrespectful. I would like you to say, ‘sorry ma’am’.” He did and I’m not sure he totally understood what he was apologizing for but it seemed like the right thing. The woman seemed grateful that I openly acknowledged his comment and let it go after that. A situation concerning a walker or the like (glasses, a cane, etc.) is a little easier to handle than if your child comments on an actual physical, unchangeable characteristic of someone else. I am hoping I don’t have to blog about that anytime soon (fingers crossed!). Other than that (and it was relatively minor in the grand scheme), we had a fine time.

It took five, long years to get to the point with Full Speed that more often than not he is well-behaved and even pleasant on outings. If I do the math, and believe me math is not my strong suit, I have two years and some change for Frick to reach this behavioral/emotional milestone. I don’t know if I have what it takes to wait it out. I guess I have to. My only other alternative is to wait for my meds to kick in.

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eyesight, health, mommyhood

Eye Surgery: Take Two

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silly face twoWe are on the eve of the second surgery so I am posting this the night before. The process leading up to this has been much calmer since we know exactly what to expect. Full Speed is becoming a seasoned pro at eye drops and honestly that is half the battle. Poor guy is still getting two drops twice a day in his right eye. “The yellow one burns, Mommy,” he says each time we do them. We have progressed from long ago when I would have to straddle him to keep his arms locked in place and peel his eyelids back to get drops of any sort in. Now, he sits pleasantly on our counter, tilts his head back and I plop the drops in without incident. Maturity and growth are a beautiful thing. That is good because soon we will be starting with a series of drops for several weeks with his left eye.

The afternoon for Full Speed’s pre-op appointment ended up dragging on for over four hours before all was said and done. The doctor did her best to configure a most likely eyeglass prescription for Full Speed that she wanted us to get to an optometrist ASAP. This is her best guess until the completion of the second surgery and subsequent eyesight tests are done on Full Speed. It was already four in the afternoon. Full Speed and I booked it to the optometrist’s and made it (everything closes early in Florida). The staff marveled at his prescription’s gigantic leap from – 30 to +7.5. The ladies were in such a titter that they forgot to measure his head for his frames before we headed out the door (mistake!).

Full Speed was already done with his day. He had lost patience even when we were with our doctor (whom he adores and calls his ‘girlfriend’). He was tired of sitting and waiting. He had sat patiently (kind of) while we picked out new frames at the optometrist’s. I could sense he was on the edge of losing it. The reason he held it together is because he knew he was going to have another date at Applebee’s with his Mom. So we get the frames picked out and leave all the fussing eye-people behind and make the drive over to Applebee’s. No sooner did we walk in the door, my cell phone rings. They need us to come back to get the forgotten measurements.

You should have seen the dark cloud that descended on Full Speed’s face. He was NOT happy. We head back and get the measurements needed but he is aloof with the fawning staff and at times, down-right rude (I completely understood because it was almost six o’clock at this point). Before we leave for the second time I pointedly ask, “Do you have everything you need? Because if you don’t and we have to come back, I don’t know what that will do to Full Speed.”

They assured me all was complete. We finally get to Applebee’s, have our table and drinks, and our orders were in. It had been such a long afternoon and a long time since a potty-break, so we left our drinks and headed to the bathroom. When we return to our table our drinks are gone. They bussed our table and we hadn’t even consumed anything. Not even a drop of our beverages. It doesn’t help that our waiter is a good ten years younger than me, brings me the wrong order and has to keep saying ‘sorry ma’am’ over and over. I felt like I was one-hundred and twenty seven years old!

Eventually Full Speed and I went on to have a lovely date. He even told me that he looked forward to it all day. “I couldn’t wait to have a date with my favorite woman in the whole world. You, Mommy.” I’m quoting him exactly. That’s worth all the ‘sorry ma’ams’ in the world.
bathtime

It is now close to bedtime and I just gave Full Speed his last allowed food until the surgery is complete. He picked Oreos. I would have let him have pretty much anything he wanted. T.Puzzle is at Grandma and Grandpa’s so all is quiet. Full Speed is playing with cars and we are waiting for Mad Dog to get home (I said Full Speed could wait up for him if he was good and let’s face it, after all the nonsense today, he earned it).

I’m going to bed tonight with many prayers of thanks in my heart. I am thankful for the excellent medical care that we have access to and the hopeful certainty Full Speed will come through the other side of surgery with much improved vision in his left eye. I thank my loyal readers for their support that continues to inspire me. Most of all, I thank God (or whoever may be out there) for giving me an amazingly spirited, gift of a child (and a spare to boot). Good night!