1. My favorite blog post this week came from Jennifer at Conversion Diary, who hosts 7 Quick Takes as well, BTW. You simply have to read this post, which despite its title is killingly funny. (Moms, if you don’t recognize the circumstances she’s describing, I want to know your secret!
My response, which came thirty-some down the line, was this:
WendyJ–I love that thought, and it resonates in my head, giving name to something I’ve had to do on occasion.
Jen–what a phenomenal summation of what we all go through on occasion. Pithy, humorous, humble. Nicole is right–your post is the best thing you could do for anyone, just for making us all comrades in arms.
At 11a.m. today, my husband called and said, “I have nothing to do at lunch. Got anything I can help you with?”
“Sure, I said, “you can go bring Alex home from preschool.”
“Uh, no. I don’t have enough time.”
“You can come home and help me feed the kids.”
“Nope, still not enough time.”
“Gee,” I said sarcastically, “I would LOVE to have ‘nothing to do’!!!”
Someday, we’ll all get a chance to go have a cup of coffee/cocoa/tea at a nice, quiet place, with NOTHING TO DO. But not while we have little ones. I keep telling myself “this too shall pass…” though sometimes I wonder if I’ll survive till it does!
2. We take toilet training very slowly in this house. Julianna has been sitting on the toilet occasionally for the last year and a half, and almost a year ago we started putting her on four times a day. But I’ve been procrastinating on toilet training for real, until about six weeks ago, when I realized that the persistent rash she has will only go away if she stops being exposed to the urine. She has been stubborn, resistant, and generally maddening about it. And then we went to Florida, and one day she came over to Christian, patted his leg, and then, looking up at him with those big, sweet eyes, she patted her diaper. It was wholly impractical to try to toilet train at Disney—but the next day we started hitting it in earnest, and on New Year’s Day, she was dry the entire day. We shook our heads and said, Wouldn’t it be ironic if our “delayed” daughter trains herself just like that, after all the headaches we’ve had with Alex?
3. And then we came home, and she went back on strike. However, she also has the worst cold I have ever seen. It’s really gross, so we’re just going to stop there, and cross our fingers that it’s the cold, and not the state of Missouri, that keeps her from controlling her bodily functions.
4. Speaking of coming home, I’m sure all parents will recognize what I mean if I say that this has been a detox week. I’m a firm believer that after any exciting, overstimulating day/week, there is an almost equal time required for the kids to detox. When we got home, I wondered who was going to pull out of it first: the flexible baby, or the used-to-it preschooler, or the go-with-the-flow toddler? Nicholas was the one manifesting the worst signs: exploding into a million pieces of wailing baby if I so much as set him down. And I’m pleased to say that yesterday, at last, he began to revert to normal. (Whew!)
5. However, there may be another factor at play. He had a well-child check on Tuesday—his first with his new doctor (we moved to a doctor 15 minutes closer to home)—and she decided he’s not gaining enough weight. Okay, so he’s only gained a pound in the last three months. But he’s sick, and he refused to eat anything but bread for five days before that appointment. So should I actually be worried about this, or should I chalk it up to doc’s who are too…interventionist? Well, really I think the trouble is I’ve tried to cut back on nursing too much. So we upped our feedings from 3 to 5 beginning on Wednesday. Maybe that’s why he suddenly became a happier baby?
6. Title this one “selective speech.” You may recall my delirious happiness that Julianna said “mmmmma” (moon). That remains the only word she will say for me or Christian, though she will occasionally deign to repeat a “da” or a “ma” when we mean Mom or Dad. But she did all three, and meant them, for her speech therapist before Christmas. And the first night that Alex & Julianna were sharing a room in Florida, they lay awake for half an hour talking. “Julianna, say A-A,” he said. (A-a being “Alex.”) “Julianna, can you say Ma-ma? Julianna, can you say Da-da?” And I’ll be darned if that little stinker didn’t repeat them all blithely, with giggles! Christian and I lay on the bed in our room shaking our heads and saying, “How can we tell them to be quiet?”
For more (and probably much quicker) Quick Takes, visit Conversiondiary.com.