Life here's good. Rooster's still working on the teeth. 6 of 8 are through, and since he's beginning to actually get decent at walking more than two steps at a time, he's sleeping for crap, poor baby. Poor mama, too.
Eeny's all of a sudden become a conversationalist. This morning's discussion:
E: Hi Mom!
Me: (under the covers and barely awake) Mmmfhhff. Hi.
E: Mom! Wake up!
Me: I'm awake. (yawn)
E: Where's Rooster?
Me: Right beside me.
E: (thinks for a minute) Can I have some Nee?
Me: Count of ten, but that's it. Then you can snuggle.
[We count to ten] Okay, that's it. Time to snuggle.
E: Can I go play cars now?
Me: Sure.
E: Okay. I'm going to the other room.
DarthHusband's out of school for the summer, and we're figuring out how to make all of our schedules work. He wants to make sure he gets to the gym every day, and I want to make sure we get lots of house projects done, and lots of kid stuff done, too.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Monday, May 22, 2006
Me this week.
| You Are 36% Abnormal |
 You are at low risk for being a psychopath. It is unlikely that you have no soul. You are at medium risk for having a borderline personality. It is somewhat likely that you are a chaotic mess. You are at medium risk for having a narcissistic personality. It is somewhat likely that you are in love with your own reflection. You are at medium risk for having a social phobia. It is somewhat likely that you feel most comfortable in your mom's basement. You are at low risk for obsessive compulsive disorder. It is unlikely that you are addicted to hand sanitizer. |
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Looking back...
There's a thread on my month board about discipline that talks a little bit about saying please and thank you. We taught Eeny to say please and thank you by modeling it for him. He picked it up pretty quickly, and without the "you say please or you don't get it" power struggle that defined so much of my childhood. I was sharing our methods with the other posters, when I remembered something from after the Rooster's birth.
Rooster was literally only a day or so old (I can't remember if it was the day of his birth or the day after), and I was sitting on the couch, nursing him. My parents were there, as were my sister and brother, and DarthHusband was chatting with us, too. My sister brought out shortbread cookies. She gave one to everyone, and Eeny ate his quickly. He asked for another one, and she said, "Say please." He didn't, and the power struggle began.
I hate the way my will is ignored during my labor and postpartum period. It angers me. It's as though I'm invalid, since I've just gone through this amazing, trying, exhausting process. I have no energy left to fight for what I want, and it goes by the wayside. I spoke up, and said that he'd just gotten a baby brother, and she hadn't made him say please for the first cookie, just model it and move on, but Darth overruled me. I just sat there, and watched my entire family insist my 20 month old baby say please before he could have a stupid cookie on the day his world was changed forever. He must have been so overwhelmed with all of the big people demanding he perform. He gets overstimulated easily. No wonder the poor wee man burst into tears and melted down completely. I wish I could go back and stand up for him. :( My sweet little boy. I love him with all of my heart. The joy he and his brother bring me is immeasurable.
I wish I found it easier to communicate with him. I have learned, through nearly three years of sometimes trial and error, how to meet his needs, and how to respond to his intense emotions. It's a delicate dance--teaching him acceptable expression, and meeting his needs, teaching him to balance his wants and desires with the reality that life isn't always what we think it should be. He's such a precious child. The way he explores the world is a sight to behold. I love watching him play with his cars. I adore hearing him say, "Come play cars with me?" For the first time today, I did it. I'm usually on the computer when he asks me, and by the time I close things out, he's moved on. No more. At the request to play cars, my away message shall go up, and I shall gleefully dash to the other room to bang model cars together with a happy two year old. This time is too short, and too precious to miss.
The realization of the above sentence creeps up on me ever so softly. I need to ask my friend K to watch the kids while I go observe the Preschool room at DarthHusband's school. Preschool. Wow. Eeny will be three in July. I can't believe how fast time has flown. Before I know it, he'll be grown, and bringing home to meet us a wife of his own. Ack. LOL I hope she breastfeeds and likes the idea of homebirth. I hope I'll be a good mother-in-law. Anyway, preschool is still a bit farther off than I'd expect, as all of the preschools in My Fair City require attendees to be potty trained. Considering Eeny still refuses to do anything Not Pee in the potty ("Do you want to poo on the potty?" "Nooooooooooooooo!"), I think full time underoos are not in our immediate future.
I hear Rooster stirring. He'll want to nurse. I'm so glad my babies need me. It's such a wonderful feeling.
I'll try to remember that at 5 this morning when they both want to nurse, and neither of them will give me one inch of my own space. God bless these boys of mine. I love them so. :)
Rooster was literally only a day or so old (I can't remember if it was the day of his birth or the day after), and I was sitting on the couch, nursing him. My parents were there, as were my sister and brother, and DarthHusband was chatting with us, too. My sister brought out shortbread cookies. She gave one to everyone, and Eeny ate his quickly. He asked for another one, and she said, "Say please." He didn't, and the power struggle began.
I hate the way my will is ignored during my labor and postpartum period. It angers me. It's as though I'm invalid, since I've just gone through this amazing, trying, exhausting process. I have no energy left to fight for what I want, and it goes by the wayside. I spoke up, and said that he'd just gotten a baby brother, and she hadn't made him say please for the first cookie, just model it and move on, but Darth overruled me. I just sat there, and watched my entire family insist my 20 month old baby say please before he could have a stupid cookie on the day his world was changed forever. He must have been so overwhelmed with all of the big people demanding he perform. He gets overstimulated easily. No wonder the poor wee man burst into tears and melted down completely. I wish I could go back and stand up for him. :( My sweet little boy. I love him with all of my heart. The joy he and his brother bring me is immeasurable.
I wish I found it easier to communicate with him. I have learned, through nearly three years of sometimes trial and error, how to meet his needs, and how to respond to his intense emotions. It's a delicate dance--teaching him acceptable expression, and meeting his needs, teaching him to balance his wants and desires with the reality that life isn't always what we think it should be. He's such a precious child. The way he explores the world is a sight to behold. I love watching him play with his cars. I adore hearing him say, "Come play cars with me?" For the first time today, I did it. I'm usually on the computer when he asks me, and by the time I close things out, he's moved on. No more. At the request to play cars, my away message shall go up, and I shall gleefully dash to the other room to bang model cars together with a happy two year old. This time is too short, and too precious to miss.
The realization of the above sentence creeps up on me ever so softly. I need to ask my friend K to watch the kids while I go observe the Preschool room at DarthHusband's school. Preschool. Wow. Eeny will be three in July. I can't believe how fast time has flown. Before I know it, he'll be grown, and bringing home to meet us a wife of his own. Ack. LOL I hope she breastfeeds and likes the idea of homebirth. I hope I'll be a good mother-in-law. Anyway, preschool is still a bit farther off than I'd expect, as all of the preschools in My Fair City require attendees to be potty trained. Considering Eeny still refuses to do anything Not Pee in the potty ("Do you want to poo on the potty?" "Nooooooooooooooo!"), I think full time underoos are not in our immediate future.
I hear Rooster stirring. He'll want to nurse. I'm so glad my babies need me. It's such a wonderful feeling.
I'll try to remember that at 5 this morning when they both want to nurse, and neither of them will give me one inch of my own space. God bless these boys of mine. I love them so. :)
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