Merry Christmas 2010!!!!

Notice that the shirt says, "Believe Me. I'm Nice!" This looks like a kid who needs more toys, right?

A Dream Come True

Remember in the beginning, this story began with a dream? The dream I had before we learned that Carson even existed? If you don't, you can check out the first entry in this blog. But if you don't have time or just need a memory refresh - my dream was wacky. It wasn't just about a baby becoming ours. It involved many wacky scenes that didn't make sense...at the time. The part about the golf cart is explained in that first blog entry.

About four months ago, another wacky scene from that dream came to mind. It was the scene where it was like watching a fast-forward of what this baby became. He was older and hyper and dancing on a table. Well, that is exactly what happened. About four months ago, Carson started learning how to climb up from the dining room chairs up to the dining room table; and one day, I walked into the dining room, after having only been gone a second, to find him - dancing - on the table! Ahhhhh! A dream come true!

Other than that deja vu day, Carson has had many many charming moments. I really could write about him daily. Today, he got his first gift from Santa Claus, a late St. Nick gift, and when I asked him if he liked the gift that Santa brought him, he looked at me strangely and said, "Mama brought it!" He is not going to be easy to convince about Santa Claus, but it's OK, he's only 2.

He knows so much and understands so much, but when I ask him if he can say his A-B-Cs, he gets up to G and gets confused. One time he sang, "I'll take you for a ride on a big green tractor!" after G. I have to give that boy points for style, and never being obvious about making a mistake, or maybe he knows it all, like he knows about Santa Claus and is just testing me? It doesn't matter. I love it all!

Potty Training 101

Carson with his friend, Chip, who taught him everything he shouldn't know

My son pees in the bathtub every time I bathe him. A little geyser of water forms on the surface and he laughs when I ask him if he is "Making Water". I am amazed thinking of how we used to empty the tub and start over but now just compromise by rinsing him with water from the sink when he is done.

Supposedly, urine is cleaner than spit. My eye doctor once told me that if my contact lens popped out unexpectedly,and I wasn't anywhere near a bottle of saline or a source of water, that I would be better off rinsing it with my own urine than spitting on it. He then went on to remark how he watched a speaker at an eye doctor convention with that same contact popping out dilemma, and the speaker, of course, chose the spitting option. "Making Water" is just not something that can be done discreetly in public without complicated medical equipment or a diaper.

Speaking of which, just this morning as my son was walking around the living room, he grabbed the front of his diaper and said, "Making Water". I texted this funny anecdote to my husband at work to which he replied, "Time for potty training." To which I replied, "Hahahahahaaha!" in a crazy at-my-wit's-end sort of tone. It's not that I am against potty training at all. It's just that we have faced some setbacks in this area. OK, the word "setbacks" is not really adequate to explain it. We have faced pure stubbornness when we have attempted potty training. Even "pure stubbornness" doesn't seem to do the situation justice. I will just have to describe our attempts to reveal why I laugh like a crazy person, and I know my husband was joking when he suggested potty training.

Training Attempt #1: Pre-bath, naked baby boy, running around the bathroom, bends knees slightly and starts to pee on the floor....Frantic mommy grabs insert bucket from potty chair and shoves it in front of baby. Baby boy stops IN MID-STREAM and shakes his head and says, "No" then runs to corner and finishes peeing.

Training Attempt #2: Post-bath, naked baby boy, squats in the corner of the bathroom and announces with a red face, "Push! Poop!" Frantic mommy suggests he sit on his potty chair or on his cushy seat on the big toilet. Baby boy shakes his head and says, "No." Frantic mommy lifts baby boy to put him on potty chair. He screams and wriggles from her grasp. She tries again, but this time attempts to lay him down to put on a diaper. He screams, twists, and rolls away, and continues to squat in his corner. Finally, after successfully pooping on the floor, when asked why by the parents, baby boy announces happily, "I poop like doggy, woof, woof, pant, pant, pant."

Uggggggg! Notice I switch to third person and refrain from using names when I describe these attempts? It is not because I think the reader will not guess the names of those involved or I am trying to protect the not-so-innocent. It is because I am hoping that these are somehow universal stories, that we are not alone in this...well...are we?

Nevertheless, we will not give up. We will continue to try any method, suggestion, gimmick that anyone feels gracious enough to share, but one piece of wisdom that I know first hand that will always hold true is that you can't push a child to do something if he's not ready. I just hope he's ready soon.

A Bird Song for Carson

Carson loves birds. He chases the robins constantly. One day he tried calling a robin as if it were the cat, Ricky Bobby. "Here," he said as he patted his leg and then made a kissing sound that seems to be a universal way to call a cat.

He also loves it when I sing that lullaby to him which begins with the line "Hush little baby. Don't say a word. Mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird..." So I made up some new verses just for him...

And if that mocking bird won't sing, Mama's gonna buy you a cedar wax wing.

And if that cedar wax wing flies away, Mama's gonna buy you a loud blue jay.

And if that loud blue jay starts to cackle, Mama's gonna buy you a shiny black grackle.

And if that shiny black grackle eats a pin, Mama's gonna buy you a fat robin.

And if that fat robin has to go, Mama's going to buy you a little sparrow.

After that last line, I make up something different every time, but nothing that sticks with me or that 's worthy of remembering. I would like to find something that rhymes with cardinal because he likes and recognizes those birds the most.

Any suggestions for how to continue and end my song????

The McDonald's Greeter

Carson "reading" the plaques at the Nature Center

My son is a reader! At least that is one thing I learned from the last professional text I read - The Book Whisperer. The author is a teacher and an avid reader. She talked about "reading" as a child and how her mother would praise her when she recognized common symbols like a McDonald's sign. She said that it was early reading experience, and Carson does that too.

Today, as we went through the McDonald's drive through, he saw the symbol on the side of the building and read it like he always does, but today he added something new, "Thank you, Welcome,
McDonald's!" And he smiled at himself in the mirror. The mirror is the one I used before I could face his car seat forward. Now I have it strapped to the back of the passenger seat so he can see himself. He likes to practice words and expressions while watching himself in the mirror. Sometimes he laughs at it, and it is like he and the boy in the mirror are sharing a private joke.

Part of me wonders if I have already corrupted my son by feeding him McDonald's, but honestly, it is the only thing he eats that he hasn't gotten sick of, but of course, we don't have it every day. It is also a very easy place to take a kid with milk allergies because their website is very helpful (yes, he is still allergic). He can't have the chicken nuggets, the fries, or the caramel that comes with the apples, or any of the Angus burgers, but the hamburgers are just fine. Luckily, he loves them, and when he sees a McDonald's sign, hamburger is usually the second word out of his mouth. Even if it is 7am, he says "hamburger, hamburger, hamburger!" as if his little heart will break if he doesn't have a hamburger right now. Yes, he is spoiled.

On his second birthday, I decided that lunch at McDonald's might be a nice treat for both of us. Since the experience, I have decided lunch in our parked van is a much better treat. The first 2 minutes went fine, and then he wanted to get out of his seat and walk around. His blood-curdling scream, when I tried to distract him from this plan, was enough to make me give in quickly. People were staring and not in a nice "Isn't he cute?" kind of way. I thought, OK, he will stand and eat, but he had a different plan in mind. He became the first ever McDonald's greeter.

"Hi, hi, hi," he said to each table as he stopped. Then he held his hamburger up higher and said, "Hamburger, hamburger, hamburger." All the while, I was following and apologizing for my son interrupting peoples' lunches. Most people were very understanding and even seemed to like being greeted.

A few times he almost escaped out the side door by the drive through. One lady gave me a compliment, "Well, I can see how you stay so skinny!" and another woman remarked how wonderful this age is, and of course, the old "Enjoy it. It gets harder." I think she was either not there for the blood-curdling screams or she chose to ignore that part.

Eventually, Carson, joined two gentlemen by pulling himself up onto a chair at their table. Luckily, I knew them, and they were very understanding, and like an easily distracted, 2 year old, Carson got bored and moved on to something else after about 5 minutes.

It was an experience I will not soon or ever forget, and not just because I'm writing about it. It was reinforcement for why we don't go to nice restaurants with him anymore. Someday we will again, but who knows. I wonder if he will remember this birthday and how he became the first ever McDonald's greeter.

Maybe a future job is what he was practicing for in the van today when he added the "Thank you, Welcome." And once he gets a job, then he will want a car, a cell phone, a later curfew. Ugggg! That does sound worse....but I shouldn't get worked up about things that haven't happened. It may or may not come to be. One thing I know for sure is that my son is friendly, outgoing, a really fast runner, and already a good reader. Now all we have to hope for is that all of this will take him a lot farther in life than McDonald's. I just hope he doesn't start saying, "Would you like some fries with that?"

Tyrannical Twos - What? You Mean it Gets Worse???

Recently, a friend of mine posted on facebook her frustration with her daughter's terrible twos. I commented that I was right there with her and suggested that we start a support group. Immediately, other "friends" chimed in with their comforting words, little pearls of wisdom such as, "three's are worse" and "I have a five year old who's naughty". Almost every parent with any age of child two to twenty-something plus and every age in between expressed frustration with their children.

I would like to be hopeful and believe that those parents of older children are all just exaggerating or that this is a case of "the squeaky wheel" and the other "wheels" - parents who have no problems - are just staying quiet. Still, I can't help but come to this conclusion - "Being a parent doesn't get easier." However, I still don't think that is any reason to despair because while frustration will never completely go away, some problems will. Here is a list of the things that I know will pass once he is over these "terrible twos."

• He will stop throwing matchbox cars at people.



• He will stop biting.
  
  
• He will stop laughing when I say "Ouch!"



• He will learn that putting on his coat is a not a reason to scream because it means he gets to go outside.



• He will learn to listen to reason.



• He will stop digging up the houseplants to get dirt for his tractor trailer.



• He will stop spitting water on the floor/table/wall/himself. (Note: he has stopped spitting water on the cat)

Here are some things that he does that I don't think will change.

• He will continue to be a back seat driver ("That way! On there! Hawk and bear!" - it means turn here Mama, I want to see the hawk and bear at the Nature Center)



• He will continue to seem to like his "mamadaddy" (his word for daddy - I am "daddymama") more than me - I think it's just natural for a boy and for kids to cling more to the parent who works longer hours outside the home.



• He will continue to want to be outside, no matter what the weather is like.



• He will continue to be a strong-willed person.


Recently, one of my good friends just had a baby girl, and I am catching myself thinking that I wish in some ways to go back to those days of just holding him, but then I remember all the anxieties that come with being a parent of a newborn. So I think I can understand where those parents of older children are coming from when they are saying they wish they could go back to "terrible twos" because it gets worse. They are looking at it in hindsight. If only I could go back with what I know now and comfort that "old" me, the problems that seemed so big then would be laughable, almost.

People live in the present, but sometimes, not enough. So now I am going to make a list of things that I know will change that I would like to remember.





• He "calls" the robins like he "calls" the cats by making a kissing noise, patting his leg, and saying "Here!" He believes they will actually come to him.



• He chases the robins as if he really can catch them.



• He believes he can fly by spreading his arms and running.



• He falls asleep in my arms as I rock him.


• When he wants to be held, he turns around and backs into us, and sits down if we are on the floor.



• He makes sounds of wonder and amazement (Ooooooo) when he sees tractors, big diggers, or any other wonderful things.



• He thinks he can hide by just covering his eyes.



• He runs almost everywhere he goes.



I am sure there is more, but right now, these are all I can recall. Some day I will return and add to this list because I want to heed the advice of many wise parents that I have heard repeatedly, and that is "Enjoy it! It goes fast!"

Everything I Need to Know I Learned BEFORE kindergarten?

Not saying that I am biased or anything, but I was continuing to think Carson is the cutest and smartest kid in the world. "And he's not even two yet!" I would often exclaim after sharing another incredible story of his obviously genius-level intelligence. I was continuing in this fantasy world until this week when an older and wiser mom decided to burst my bubble.

I don't think she meant any harm, but she was talking about her children (now 16 and 17) explaining how they learned to read in daycare. So I chimed in with how Carson, on request, can make the sounds for 10 different animals, various transportational vehicles (tractors being his favorite), and a pirate (rrrrrrr!). I also mentioned how he once counted up to 6 and now consistently says, "One!" while holding up the index fingers on each hand when I ask him what numbers he knows.

People must have been humoring me all along because usually they react with amazement, but this mother wasn't about to do that. She mentioned with increasing concern how her children, just to get into kindergarten, had to be able to count up to 20 and know their full names and address, among many other requirements. I don't remember the rest, I think, because I was a bit taken aback. It sounded ludicrous. She may as well have told me that children need to memorize the periodic table of elements, write a thesis paper about their future goals, and understand the fundamentals of algebra before kindergarten! She then went on to point out that this was 17 years ago. "Just think what they may have to know now," she added with, what I thought, seemed a smug smile.

So what happened? Is this even true? I have yet to find out; but if it is, I really have some work to do, because it seems that Carson hasn't even mastered the list of simple lessons in Dharma that Robert Fulghum claims he learned in kindergarten. "Don't hit people" is the one Carson needs to work on right now the most.

Most people believe that children do wrong because their parents condone it. I think it is because the parents are tired. Disciplining a child who's "Not even two!" is a challenge on the same level, I think, as bathing a cat who still has his claws. Now granted, there are those rare cats and children that will submit to that "bath" without even a whimper, but my child is not that cat. He's creative and sensitive and very expressive. He loves to laugh and throw things to see what happens. He loves to spit whatever he is drinking on different surfaces (the wall, his truck, the cat) to see what happens. He is a little scientific experimenter who needs to be reminded often about danger and not hurting others.

I am a tired parent, but that doesn't mean I will stop trying to remind him of these things. We have started trying "time-outs." The early results are frustrating, hopeful, and sometimes hilarious. Here is a play-by-play of one attempt.

• Carson throws a tractor at his daddy who is lying on the couch (an easy target).


• I immediately take the tractor and put it up high (after asking daddy if he is OK).


• I then make Carson face me, and I say, "You threw a tractor at your daddy. That's not nice. You need to say 'sorry Daddy' otherwise you will get a time out."


• Carson grumbles, whines and tries to walk away from me.


• I repeat, "You need to say 'sorry Daddy' or you will have to sit."


• Same response from Carson at a louder volume.


• So I sit him on the floor and start the count.


• He tries to stand up.


• I gently set him back down.


• He tries again two more times.


• I begin to doubt if he really knows what I mean, and just when I am about to give up, he says, "SORRY, DADDY!" and stomps away.

Is this a victory? Maybe a small one step forward...and then ten steps back the next time (sigh).

Later that night, after I have again given him another time out by sitting him on the couch and saying, "Sit down" repeatedly, he throws a hot wheels car at my face. "OUCH!" I cry. He looks angry, and then he says, "Sit down" and walks himself over to the couch for his time out.

Now wait a minute! Does this mean he is giving himself a time out? But he's still throwing things! So have I just taught him that you can continue to throw toys at people as long as you say you are sorry or give yourself a time-out afterwards?!!!! Yeeesh! This is hard. Maybe counting to 20 will be easier.