Yes, I cliched, 'cause it does seem like she was just in diapers non-stop. The Toddleator is almost potty learned---almost. It seems that she's experimenting with control today, and while playing with the water in the sink as I cleaned up the dinner dishes, she lost some "control". Accidents will happen, though. It doesn't pay to be squeamish in this profession. Usually when she's so into what she's doing, completely distracted, that she forgets to go to the potty. So long as I am calm about the whole process, she will be, too. I have to remember that though she shows a lot of potential for learning the potty very quickly---on the easy days---she is only 2. Which means her attention span lasts only minutes if I'm lucky, she's ultra-tenacious, and might appear stone deaf the way she's capable of ignoring me. Lately she's started yelling, "NO! GO!" (as in, GO away from where you are) "STOP!", and today she screamed at me in frustration. Most of the time my response is to ask, "Are you mad at mommy for...(disallowing somesuch)? Show me how mad you are! Stomp your feet, flail around...my goodness, you ARE mad. Well, mommy can't let you do that because..." If she's screaming, usually she acts like she might let me pick her up, but then flails and hits/kicks at me when I do try. Today it seemed she just wanted me to watch her antics..."ok, if you need some time to calm down, or scream or cry, please do it in your room, Little One." When she's calm again, I talk about how she must have been feeling, or theorize why she was so upset, and then reaffirm my unconditional love for her. I am not perfect, I have been known to lose my sh*t. Then when I'm calm, I lovingly reassure her, explain why I got so upset and that it was bad behavior for mommy, and apologize. (But I retain the tenet; "Don't be sorry, just be different." I'm better everyday.) It is utterly amazing, usually Fiona will give me a kiss, or a hug by way of making up. I really think that we don't give these new tiny humans enough credit in their understanding of the world.
In the last couple of weeks she's been prone to wake up real early (4-5am) some mornings and trot, yes, TROT, around the apartment. I blame Porter-kitty for going into her room immediately upon hearing her stir, she sees him and figures, "HEY, catty is awake, I can be too!" I stumble to her room, mumble something about her going back to her bed. She might start screeching and crying...and I'll tell you what, that is absolutely the worst noise to hear first thing in the morning before pee, before coffee, before even that first deep breath. I had to explain to her that if the sun isn't up, it's not time to get up, it's still sleeping time. That may back fire on me later---I've really got to get her a clock, we'll continue working on her numbers. We'll work on not venturing out until the little hand hits the 7 at the earliest.
In other news, we are moving 2 weeks from now, to a suburb of Denver. A house, quiet, in situ laundry, mature neighborhood. I'm tempted to explore making a business of packing & moving for other people...I've had enough practice, I bet there are people out there that may appreciate someone else's expertise to move their personal goods from house to house...I wonder if that's lucrative?
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
2 year old---in FULL effect
Have you ever seen anyone eat meatloaf from a cup? It's not graceful. As I write, Toddleator is "drinking" her meatloaf and peas from one of her favorite purple cups. Given the time and leeway she'll eat a considerable amount, the appetite waxes and wanes though. Some days are nonstop eating, while others it's difficult to see how she still has energy to do anything with what she hasn't eaten.
Today I heard "NO" a LOT. Feels a lot like I'm caught in a thick haze, and little angry stubborn gnomes are popping out at me at random, shrieking, flailing, shouting pejorative "NO"s. Ah the absolute adventure that is The Toddleator. TWO in full effect I assure you. Last Friday was a classic tantrum, in wide open public, she and I were on display. At a water park, after paying what seemed an unfair amount for a toddler and a mom (who we know will get no fun from this), my little mermaid 'swam' for almost an hour. When she started the fall-down-every-time-mama-asks-a-question routine I decided it was time TO GO. This is really the first time that she's been completely out of hand in public, it was embarassing, it was humbling, it was enormously frustrating...I can't believe I made it out alive, with her.
So it goes.
It's hot here at the moment, and I'm no longer worth a damn when it's hot outside. I've had to switch my running/biking to the earlier mornings as much as possible, 'cause it seems that I overheat pretty easily now. If it's going to the 9's, I won't exert myself out-of-doors after 10 am, I learned that today. Now with a brutally vague migraine-esque headache, puffy head, and Toddleator who has decided to "shush" me she she doesn't like what I've suggested as the next thing (i.e. done with dinner? get down from chair), folks I am toast. IF and only IF it cools off sufficiently, I might make brownies...but it's almost 7 and looks like ye olde mercury is still waaaay up there. Thank goodness there is little humidity here!
p.s. now she's progressed to bloating her face around the aforementioned cup until pressure released...silly :)
p.p.s HOORAY for Papa! He once again rescued the beloved blankie from the wasteland of lost toys in Wash Park.
Today I heard "NO" a LOT. Feels a lot like I'm caught in a thick haze, and little angry stubborn gnomes are popping out at me at random, shrieking, flailing, shouting pejorative "NO"s. Ah the absolute adventure that is The Toddleator. TWO in full effect I assure you. Last Friday was a classic tantrum, in wide open public, she and I were on display. At a water park, after paying what seemed an unfair amount for a toddler and a mom (who we know will get no fun from this), my little mermaid 'swam' for almost an hour. When she started the fall-down-every-time-mama-asks-a-question routine I decided it was time TO GO. This is really the first time that she's been completely out of hand in public, it was embarassing, it was humbling, it was enormously frustrating...I can't believe I made it out alive, with her.
So it goes.
It's hot here at the moment, and I'm no longer worth a damn when it's hot outside. I've had to switch my running/biking to the earlier mornings as much as possible, 'cause it seems that I overheat pretty easily now. If it's going to the 9's, I won't exert myself out-of-doors after 10 am, I learned that today. Now with a brutally vague migraine-esque headache, puffy head, and Toddleator who has decided to "shush" me she she doesn't like what I've suggested as the next thing (i.e. done with dinner? get down from chair), folks I am toast. IF and only IF it cools off sufficiently, I might make brownies...but it's almost 7 and looks like ye olde mercury is still waaaay up there. Thank goodness there is little humidity here!
p.s. now she's progressed to bloating her face around the aforementioned cup until pressure released...silly :)
p.p.s HOORAY for Papa! He once again rescued the beloved blankie from the wasteland of lost toys in Wash Park.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Underpants Dance
It's a happy dance, the underpants dance, it truly is. With the idea that the Toddleator wasn't really making a solid connection with keeping a diaper dry, she picked out some 'big girl' underpants at Target yesterday. Curious George won the day, or as we are referring to them "monkey underpants". Today she successfully kept her new grown-up cotton undies dry all day---with exception of a poopie accident while sleeping. How one could poop during sleep without being disturbed, well, I don't understand it. So, in addition to a home-made chart of flowers, one for each day, to "house" all of her triumphant sparkly bug stickers (rewards for successful pee-pee or poo-poo, wiping, disposal, & hand washing), I have a system in place for the toilet learning. As a bonus for going a whole day keeping underpants dry, she got some "pony" cotton undies, too (as in My Little Pony). It interests me that almost all things "firsts" for kids seems to have a logo, some selling cartoon. Fiona really doesn't recognize much of these 'cause she doesn't watch that much TV. She enjoys her Dora back-pack, not because it's Dora but simply because it is her back-pack. Curious George is one of the rare movies that I wholly accept, without reservation, for her to watch. Others include Cars, Surf's Up, and Nemo although I would have preferred to wait another year for the latter...in addition to Shrek. She still likes Baby Einstein stuff, haven't tried Little Einsteins yet, Blues Clues and Teletubbies are favorites though. AND VeggieTales are great, I hope to simply purchase them all as a package one day.
Speaking of things she enjoys, WHO gifted the XYLOPHONE for her birthday??? There was NO NOTE! I like to send thank you notes to people, but was at a loss when considering the xylophone. Toddleator loves when we play music class, that xylophone is fantastic.
Anyway, here we are, pluggin' along, waiting for the next big thing!
Speaking of things she enjoys, WHO gifted the XYLOPHONE for her birthday??? There was NO NOTE! I like to send thank you notes to people, but was at a loss when considering the xylophone. Toddleator loves when we play music class, that xylophone is fantastic.
Anyway, here we are, pluggin' along, waiting for the next big thing!
Monday, June 16, 2008
'appy PahPah Daeey!
A shaft of sunlight bisects the dinner table. Mid-sentence from me, The Toddleator goes slightly un-focused wide-eyed and "ppffffff" as if blowing out a candle. She's spotted the dust in the sunlight again---not that our place is dusty, mind you, it's just those particles that are highlighted by the laserbeam afternoon sunlight. Yesterday she was exceptionally cute, it was probably due to the mass of barrettes coiled into her coif by the ever-adored Papa. Aft
er a big breakfast we visited "the fiiiishesss" at The Aquarium Downtown again, but this time Papa came and Toddleator was able to show him around the place...and mama got to go potty alone, what a treat! After a nice lunch we napped and then visited Bonnie Brae Ice Cream for cones and a 'nana split. If you're ever in Denver, Bonnie Brae is a must visit, in ye olde ice cream shop tradition, it's awesome.
Later on, after a potty trip herself, Little One snacked on a black crayon and colored herself blue. Ah the joys of creative toddlerhood---she was coloring while potty-ing, I guess she got a bit off track.
er a big breakfast we visited "the fiiiishesss" at The Aquarium Downtown again, but this time Papa came and Toddleator was able to show him around the place...and mama got to go potty alone, what a treat! After a nice lunch we napped and then visited Bonnie Brae Ice Cream for cones and a 'nana split. If you're ever in Denver, Bonnie Brae is a must visit, in ye olde ice cream shop tradition, it's awesome.
Later on, after a potty trip herself, Little One snacked on a black crayon and colored herself blue. Ah the joys of creative toddlerhood---she was coloring while potty-ing, I guess she got a bit off track.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Dia del la Mierda del Gato
Or if you prefer..."Jour de la merde de chat" sounds more sexy-pretentious, no? Maybe "Giorno della merda del gatto"? Oh, "Tag der Katze-Scheiße" 'cause everything sounds mean in German. Or how about "День дерьма кота" just for sh*ts n' giggles?
First let us review the CAT. His name is Porter, we adopted him on Oahu, he started thinnish, now chubby, but always been spotted like cow---except when he's been dyed blue. After some initial trepidation Gary has completely given over to this cat, it is an understatement to say that the man would be crushed should something happen to the Pookus MacDookus. Which is odd, considering The Man is technically allergic to cats, and is an admitted prior cat-hater. ANYWAY, we have a special super-kewl-neato-fer-sure Litter Maid auto-box with kitty cabana (ask me sometime about Gary trying to assemble that thing). Now this may be one of the only times I will adhere to what the advertising on the box says, regarding using only litter maid litter. We've tried others and it literally doesn't work as well, smell, dust, clumping, etc. The litter maid litter truly is better with this particular sh*t box. It is expensive though, and so happens that a lot of it is wasted in the machine's raking process, I've devised a method to 'save' it somewhat. Part of my afternoon was spent sifting cat sh*t. The rest of my afternoon was spent shifting Porter turd from my clothes, here's why;
Fiona likes to close Porter-kitty's closet door (where the litter box is located), sometimes poor PK gets stuck IN the closet as she has closed it when he's cabana-ed doing his bizness. Before we left for the race in Utah, The Toddleator had closed the door and we neglected to make sure it was open before departure. When we returned home that Sunday evening Porter was beside himself with kitty glee, I opened the closet immediately and briefly searched for cat smell throughout the house. I caught a whiff in my closet but it dissipated and I chalked it to paranoid nasal hallucination. This morning however, my vain attempt to find things that still fit in my closet led me deeper into the first shelf than I had been in a while what with the tri-clothing getting most of the attention, articles that no longer fit simply being ignored and buried...I grabbed a shirt, then the cat pee smell wafted and out flew several dessicated cat turds. I looked closer, and still closer. The realization hit me, and all I could do was chuckle some, began singing "the cat shit in my closet" song. At that point I didn't have the time to clean it all up---besides it was going to be a closet overhaul and I needed more than the insane, frantic fuming attempt would have produced at that point. So, after Little One's nap time I took my time with the disinfectant and deodorizers sorting out the clothes, cleaning everything, more laundry to do (still may not be redeemable clothing though). I glimpsed the large piece of bark Fiona had adopted during a walk, and the idea that "holee goodness, it's everywhere!" flitted through my mind....then I recognized the mulch chunk for what it was. The damage was contained on the one shelf, luckily. Cat piss in one's closet is a super-closet-cleaning motivator! I can be grateful that this didn't happen on Kauai where everything mildews...it could have been so much worse.
In other news, the phrase of the day is "Mommmy, mommy, heolp itt", in use when asking for help with an item OR when attempting to help me with a task. Yesterday's phrases were, "mommy gotch-yoo" and "babee gotch-ooo". The Toddleator asked me for a diaper this morning, I asked her if she wanted to sit on the potty, "Jeasss" was the answer...and voila, poop in the potty! She was proud, I think.
That's my day today, lots of poop, sh*t, doo-doo, doodle, feces, scat...
Mommy or not, Here I Am.
First let us review the CAT. His name is Porter, we adopted him on Oahu, he started thinnish, now chubby, but always been spotted like cow---except when he's been dyed blue. After some initial trepidation Gary has completely given over to this cat, it is an understatement to say that the man would be crushed should something happen to the Pookus MacDookus. Which is odd, considering The Man is technically allergic to cats, and is an admitted prior cat-hater. ANYWAY, we have a special super-kewl-neato-fer-sure Litter Maid auto-box with kitty cabana (ask me sometime about Gary trying to assemble that thing). Now this may be one of the only times I will adhere to what the advertising on the box says, regarding using only litter maid litter. We've tried others and it literally doesn't work as well, smell, dust, clumping, etc. The litter maid litter truly is better with this particular sh*t box. It is expensive though, and so happens that a lot of it is wasted in the machine's raking process, I've devised a method to 'save' it somewhat. Part of my afternoon was spent sifting cat sh*t. The rest of my afternoon was spent shifting Porter turd from my clothes, here's why;
Fiona likes to close Porter-kitty's closet door (where the litter box is located), sometimes poor PK gets stuck IN the closet as she has closed it when he's cabana-ed doing his bizness. Before we left for the race in Utah, The Toddleator had closed the door and we neglected to make sure it was open before departure. When we returned home that Sunday evening Porter was beside himself with kitty glee, I opened the closet immediately and briefly searched for cat smell throughout the house. I caught a whiff in my closet but it dissipated and I chalked it to paranoid nasal hallucination. This morning however, my vain attempt to find things that still fit in my closet led me deeper into the first shelf than I had been in a while what with the tri-clothing getting most of the attention, articles that no longer fit simply being ignored and buried...I grabbed a shirt, then the cat pee smell wafted and out flew several dessicated cat turds. I looked closer, and still closer. The realization hit me, and all I could do was chuckle some, began singing "the cat shit in my closet" song. At that point I didn't have the time to clean it all up---besides it was going to be a closet overhaul and I needed more than the insane, frantic fuming attempt would have produced at that point. So, after Little One's nap time I took my time with the disinfectant and deodorizers sorting out the clothes, cleaning everything, more laundry to do (still may not be redeemable clothing though). I glimpsed the large piece of bark Fiona had adopted during a walk, and the idea that "holee goodness, it's everywhere!" flitted through my mind....then I recognized the mulch chunk for what it was. The damage was contained on the one shelf, luckily. Cat piss in one's closet is a super-closet-cleaning motivator! I can be grateful that this didn't happen on Kauai where everything mildews...it could have been so much worse.
In other news, the phrase of the day is "Mommmy, mommy, heolp itt", in use when asking for help with an item OR when attempting to help me with a task. Yesterday's phrases were, "mommy gotch-yoo" and "babee gotch-ooo". The Toddleator asked me for a diaper this morning, I asked her if she wanted to sit on the potty, "Jeasss" was the answer...and voila, poop in the potty! She was proud, I think.
That's my day today, lots of poop, sh*t, doo-doo, doodle, feces, scat...
Mommy or not, Here I Am.
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