Tag Archives: kids

‘Tis the Season

I think I missed the memo that it’s December, and that Christmas is essentially two weeks away.

I must have been in Kansas when it went out.

Even though it snuck up on me I am excited the holiday season is here, I love it: The cookies, and the family, and the driving, and the snow, and the cookies, and the gift giving, and the Christmas trees, and the cookies, and the kids on Christmas morning, and the family dinner in Pewaukee (this will be 98 years at the same table!), and the cookies- I love it all. And since I’m all adult-like and I get to pick out and buy presents for my family I have found that I enjoy that far more than you would think from someone who has never, ever, been a shopper.

So, now that I have received my belated memo every day I don’t have something planned I think about how I should go take the girls and make a trek out into the world of stores and shiny items to pick up some gifts. Then the Christmas spirit starts to wane as I mentally plan my day. My thoughts go something like this:

It’ll be best if I can leave the house as soon as possible to get back as soon as possible. Earliest the kids get up at 7 and it takes us a good  hour and a half to dress, eat and do chores.  That’s right about when Clara is ready to take a nap. We can skip the nap this morning, she’ll be OK so long as we are doing things. Of course skipping the nap does result in a high probability that a melt down will occur in some public place, most likely when I’m trying to pay. This will no doubt happen just as Ivy is trying to put extra items from those evil displays at the register on to our pile. It is hard to carry the two girls both throwing fits bodily to the car as well as a shopping bag, but I can do it if I have to.  Then even if we make it back on the road tear free I’ll have to try to get Clara home before she falls asleep. If I feed her something half way home that should keep her awake until we get home, but will likely mean a McDonald’s stop. Then I might be able to get her into the house for a nap, but since she’ll be overtired we are looking at an hour napping max (don’t ask me why, that’s just how it works). Or she’ll fall asleep in the car and wake up when we get home, hungry and really cranky. Meanwhile Ivy will likewise be hungry and in need of a “rest” but protesting it all the while.  Wound up from being in the car too long yet still tired in the afternoon, that’s a guaranteed recipe for an afternoon “rest” struggle.   By the time I get done attempting to get them to sleep (and possibly feeding them) it’ll be time to make something for dinner to make up for the fast food consumed for lunch. Most likely I will have to do that with two cranky kids hanging off of me. John probably won’t be home in time to help (end of the year push at work and all that) and by the time I get them into bed I’ll be hating everyone and have lost the whole Christmas spirit thing entirely…

Do I even need to mention that I have yet to attempt the shopping thing?

It’s funny how that sort of  scenario seems worth a try when going grouse hunting, yet completely unmanageable if shopping is involved.

I think instead I’ll be using nap time and the power of the internet to do a bit of online shopping.

Now I’ve just got to cross my fingers that my satellite connection doesn’t go down in the snow that just started…

Ivy’s Favorite Things

Sometimes when trying to distract Ivy I ask her a million “What’s your favorite…” questions.

I feel it evens us out a bit on the question asking.

Here is our last question and answer session.

What is your favorite…

Color- Pink

Animal – Ponies and Horses (Don’t try to make her pick just one or she’ll get mad at you!)

Food – Bananas and Apples (really? really?)

Clothes- Dresses and Skirts (Bananas and dresses, how does this happen???)

Dog – Piper

Cat – Fiona

Person -Mom

Thing to do – Picking flowers and raspberries and blueberries (She’s never picked blueberries, but she has picked and delivered at least three bunches of imaginary flowers today.)

Thing to do inside -just play

Chore- baby chicks

Time of day – night time (Odd since night time and bedtime are usually linked in her mind but I’ll go with it.)

Place to go  -park

Thing to do at the park – go on the slides

Book – Elephants Child

Thing to do with Clara -wrestle (Yes, unfortunately it is.  If Clara could talk I doubt she would answer the same.)

Friend -Natalie and horses…Natalie (Go Natalie, you got a billing above horses!)

Uncle -Tyler (actually this was me saying “What’s your favorite..” and she said “Uncle! Tyler!”)

Meal – Macaroni

Movie -Xialin showdown (Which I suspect she hasn’t seen in about a year and never requests to watch, but really, what do I know!)

To do in the car- (After lots of thinking…) play with horses and ponies

 

There you have it, Ivy’s favorite things of the moment.

She changes her answers often.

This is good.

It gives me hope that wrestling and bananas could be on their way out!

Bad Queen

“Mom, let’s pretend you are the bad queen who hates everyone and I’m the princess.”

I hope Ivy came up with this new game because of the many books and movies that involve a bad queen.

I fear it was actually because of the mood of her mother.

On a positive note, so long as I use my “bad voice” she’ll happily do all sorts of chores around the house while I threaten to lock her in the basement if she doesn’t.

Being the “Bad Queen Who Hates Everyone” is actually rather cathartic.

Reason #8 We Do A Lot Of Laundry…

…because yesterday was like this:

“Where are your pants?”

“Oh, they are just full of chicken poop.”
Later after new pants it was:

“I think a duck pooped on me.”

“No, I think you rolled in duck poop.”

Shortly after with a naked girl it was:
“Can you turn on the bathtub for me I have poop on my foot.”

How can someone who looks so sweet be so full of…

… it?

Art Guilt

Guilt.

It’s a common theme amongst mothers.  A mother can find something to feel guilty about in anything.   Working mom, stay at home mom, public schools,  McDonald’s, nursing , co-sleeping, formula feeding, diapers,  soap, playing,  learning,  reading, house cleaning, TV watching, socialization, pretty much if a mom or a kid can do it some mother somewhere is feeling guilty about it.

I like to think I do pretty well at avoiding feeling guilty, not perfect but perhaps better than average. Lately though I’ve been struggling with a doozy dose of Mom Guilt.

My current dilemma…

…artwork.

Admittedly what Ivy creates has only recently achieved a status that I would call artwork, but whatever you call it what do I DO with it? In the last few days she went on a frenzy and turned most of a package of computer paper into pictures for us.  In the past her pictures have involved five swipes of color on one sheet of paper.  I can leave them sit for a few days by which time they get eaten, crumpled or spilled on and then I can throw them away guilt free.   Now I have a ream of pictures, many of which are family portraits. (Just in case you were wondering these aren’t heads and necks, they are heads and legs. Just wanted to clear that up for you so Ivy didn’t have to.)

The sensible part of me says to follow my past plan and throw them away after a few days. The sentimental part of me wants to keep them. The sensible part says, “Where Jessie, Where would you keep them?” to which the sentimental part answers that there must be someplace that I can stash a few drawings. Then the sensible side says that there are truly NO artwork storing area in the house and I’ll end up putting them someplace stupid, lose them, forget about them and find them in ten years having been eaten by mice. The sentimental part retorts that at least I’ll have tried.

As my multiple personalities war inside me,  all I end up with is a big dose of guilt as I slowly filter pictures off to the garbage. To combat the Mom Guilt I have collected a few pictures and stapled them together into a book. The sentimental part of me is going to go put them some place stupid, lose them, forget about them and probably find them years in the future having been eaten by mice.

But at least I’ll have tried.

 

Independence

I have independent girls.

Sometimes people exclaim how wonderful it must be to have such independent children, I say yes but… Have YOU ever heard your daughter say from two aisles over at the grocery store: “Do you know where my mom is?” This is a normal occurrence for us. Unfortunately the adult being asked where I am is unaware of this and I see a bit of panic in their eyes when I pop around the corner. Because while Ivy may not know where I am she’s pretty easy to keep track of, you just listen for her constant chatter. But I digress…

Some of their independence is just personality. Ivy has always been out and about on her own without a problem, and now that she’s three that’s been taken to a whole new level!  Clara also seems to have got some of that same personality.  She won’t even let someone hold her hand while she walks, try to do that to help her out and you get rapid head shaking followed by yelling if you persist in trying. Clara is going to do it herself!

Other parts of their independence (particularly Ivy) is a learned thing. My favorite parts of motherhood do NOT include putting on clothes, shoes, socks, jackets, getting glasses of water, finding toys… Therefore the general rule I follow is if she can do it I’m not going to. Which is why last year when Ivy was two I woke up one morning to the sound of firewood being dropped on the floor. I went downstairs to discover my two-year old had gotten up, gone down stairs, put on boots and a jacket and hat, gone out to the porch and brought in a load of firewood.

She was very proud.

I was a bit worried that I was able to sleep through all that.

Truly though I love that Ivy is so self-sufficient and independent. Today as we were getting ready to go to the park I tried to remember that.  Last year, I would find the clothes and shoes and things and she would put them on. This year she does it all. The problem is she does it all on a three-year old’s time table (which translates to no timetable or urgency but lots of stories about princesses).  As we slowly, slowly got ourselves out the door I thought how easy it could be…

If I found her clothes and put them on her, if I found the socks and shoes and stuffed her feet in them, if I found the toys that were apparently completely necessary for our five minute drive we were taking and if I loaded her into and buckled up her car seat.

It’d take ten minutes.

But when we got to the park would she have played by herself and with Clara while I walked dogs  in circles around them?  Fixed her shoe by herself? Figured her own way up the unfamiliar ladders?  Relentlessly followed other kids around the park talking to them? Maybe.  But after the 30 minute struggle to get out the door I like to think that what I’m doing is actually helping her become a better person rather than just torturing all of us.

Besides had Ivy been glued to my side she never would have had the opportunity to excitedly yell across the playground: “MOM! Guess what!? I can get boogers out of my nose with my tongue!”

Clearly this is not a recent picture of Ivy. This is Ivy with her finger up her nose at four months. At four months it’s sort of funny, a current picture of her activities would not be so endearing!

The Second Child

I’m sure you’ve heard that saying about how you worry less about your second child because you’ve been through it all before.

The problem is I was never super worried with the first child.

Today Ivy, Clara and I made a big leaf pile at my parents house for the two girls to jump in.

As we were playing I thought Clara had a stick.

It was not a stick.

It was a dead shrew.

She was about to put it in her mouth.

Not completely lacking in the worry/grossed out department I leaped the leaf pile and took it away.

Ivy of course was fascinated by the small dead thing and wanted to know what it was and speculate on what killed it. (Yes, I realize that this is kind of strange but at least she’s got the idea of what dead means, and how food chains work.)

As Ivy and I were checking it out I noticed both it’s front legs were missing and it looked very, fresh…

As I threw it into the woods I decided that it couldn’t have been my second daughter, the girl who eats everything, who ate the legs.

Right?

Right.

Then we went back to jumping in leaves.

It’s possible a bit more worry in my life might have been a good thing.