Cry Me A River

Cael had his first time out last night. It’s been coming for awhile. The boy does not like to listen and he’s stubborn enough to keep doing whatever he wants. I think he takes after his father. Unfortunately for Cael, this doesn’t fly in my house. I have been debating whether 17 months is too little to do it. I can’t remember how old Taryn was the first time she landed in time out, but I think it was around this age.

I didn’t have as hard a time putting Taryn in time out or more likely I’ve blocked all memory of the event and I’m in denial. Taryn is a true girl and when you make her mad, she doesn’t want to talk to you or be around you. She was content to ignore my presence in the room while screaming from the time out spot. She will usually look away from me while she’s crying and if I try to get her attention, she’ll grunt and look in another direction.

Cael is a different story. Lately, when he doesn’t want to do what I ask or gets told no, he wails at the tops of his lungs and usually flings himself backwards. Not such a big deal when I’m holding him, but he smacked his head nicely on the floor the other day. That helped his tantrum a lot. This behavior doesn’t work for me and I know he’s little, but I believe in stopping that behavior right from the beginning.

He went to time out and sat there, screaming mama repeatedly while holding his arms up in the air. I’m impressed he stayed there. He sat there for several minutes until the crying stopped. If he reacted like Taryn, it probably wouldn’t have bothered me so much. The fact that he wants to be comforted and will seek me out when he is upset makes it all that much harder to stand firm. I hope it gets easier to ignore those big brown tear-filled eyes during times out, but I’m not counting on it.

"HELP ME!"

Fight for Preemies

During the month of November, the March of Dimes is campaigning to spread awareness about premature births. Did you know that 1 in 8 children is born prematurely? Did you know that only 1 state in the US has a score higher than a C for the premature birth report card? My own state is currently a D.

I was very lucky with my pregnancies. Given my clotting disorder, I knew that there could be complications that might cause premature birth. I was lucky in that my doctors knew about my clotting disorder long before I had children, so they were able to prescribe blood thinners to keep clots from forming. Others were not so lucky. From friends I know in real life to people whose blogs I happened across, premature births happen every day.

I have a clinical experience with premature birth as I have spent the last 5 years typing NICU progress notes. I know about the oxygen types, the brain shunts, the heart problems and the developmental delay. I've toured the NICU multiple times. I know that some babies go home earlier than others. I know that some stay for many many months. I know some never go home. What I know can't even compare to those who have to live through it.

No child should have to start life just fighting as hard as their tiny little bodies can to survive.

Sassy conversations

Yesterday I needed to run to the store. I told Taryn to get her shoes on while I got Cael ready. She ran around, hid in her brother's room, and laid on the couch. I kept telling her to get her shoes on and she would start towards the stairs until I looked away and then it would be time to lay on the floor and make floor angels. Finally, I got her down the stairs and put her shoes on for her.

"Mommy, how many times did you ask me to put my shoes on?"

"Too many."

"Yeah, A LOT too many. It's not nice."

Glad to know I'm not just annoying myself by repeating things over and over.

Recently, we’ve experienced a few instances where Taryn was pushed or hit by other children. I get that kids do these things sometimes. They don’t exactly have control of their emotions all the time. I would let one hit or push slide without saying anything to the child. Taryn’s learning to tell kids not to push or hit her. She even told one child who hit her twice that her dad has big muscles. I don’t know that it was a threat I would have used, but it worked for her.

One of the instances of pushing/hitting involved the other child not stopping. Shawn and I both talked to Taryn about what she could do in that situation. Mostly we talked about how she shouldn’t hit people and if someone does something to her she doesn’t like, she should ask them to stop. If it continues, she should tell them to stop or get someone to help her. After that, I think I might differ from other parents on what she should do. I fully encouraged her to hit that child back if it continues. I stressed that this should only be used as a last resort and that she can’t start the hitting. This may get her and me in trouble later on in her school career, but she will never be in trouble at home for standing up for herself against a bully.

It’s hard to realize that I can’t fight her battles for her. All I can do it help her take care of herself and if that means showing her how to throw a hard right hook, so be it. Since I get to clean up the battlefield, I want her to be the most prepared she can be when she enters it. I don’t know how to prepare myself for standing on the sidelines.

Land of Mythical Creatures

Helping daddy carve the Jack-o-lanterns.

No one ever looks at the camera.

Cael hated the dragon hood. These are the only pictures of the dragon and the monster fairy*. The camera battery died right after I took this picture. Stupid camera. Couldn't possibly due to the fact that mommy forgot to buy a new camera battery. Because I'm always on top of things like that.



*I have no idea what a monster fairy is, but that was Taryn's choice. This is my best interpretation of her vision.

Happy Birthday to me!

Once upon a time, I looked like this. I would like to think I still look like this...minus the awesome brown courderoy bibs. I was so cool once.

Taryn's Best Friend

Shawn left for a conference yesterday morning. I dread when Shawn leaves the house for anything longer than 1 day because it never fails that something goes wrong. There was the time I woke up in December at 4 AM to find out the thermostat had broken and it was a chilly 54 degrees in our house. There was the time the air conditioning broke in July. There was the time the garage door broke and wouldn't open and my car was stuck inside the garage. There was the time the battery on my car died and I had to call my parents to come give my car a jump so I could get the battery changed. There was also the time the dog we fostered jumped the fence with Taryn sleeping in the house and I attempted to jump the fence in my nice pink bathroom and fuzzy purple slippers so I could catch her. I'm still thankful that one occurred at night and my neighbors couldn't see me fall over the fence.

I thought we might be breaking that cycle because when Shawn was gone to Belgium while I was pregnant with Cael, I didn't have any problems. It was heaven. I never said out loud that I thought his curse was gone just because I didn't want to jinx it. Apparently, I was just being lulled into a false sense of security.

Shawn had been gone all of 2 hours yesterday. The kids had eaten lunch and had just been put to bed for naps. The dogs were outside enjoying the sunshine while I was reading a magazine at the kitchen table. We have a fenced in yard and I never worry about the dogs as neither one has shown any interest in jumping the fence. After about 10-15 minutes, I got up to see what the dogs were doing.

I went to let Sid back in and I didn't see Shiloh. This isn't unusual as she likes the corners of our yard and underneath the porch as well. I called for her and didn't hear her moving. As I started searching around the yard and calling her name, I felt a vague sense of uneasiness. She was not under the porch or on the side of the shed. She was not in the yard. I started calling louder. I didn't hear or see her anywhere.

I went back into the house and got the kids up from nap. Taryn kept asking me what we were doing. I told her I needed her to put her shoes and coat on because we had to find Shiloh. Taryn moved pretty quickly, apparently she heard the panic in my voice. Volunteering for a shelter did not help me keep calm as I know what can happen to dogs when they get out/lost.

As I loaded the kids into the van Taryn said "We have to find her mommy. She's my best friend." That really helped me not panic. As I drove down the street calling out the window, Taryn kept telling me that I had to find Shiloh. Seriously, what's with the pressure?

We found Shiloh 3 houses down from ours smelling the neighbor's flower bed. She came right into the car and we went home. The kids went back to bed, Shiloh went into her crate and mommy had a little moment of panic when all the thoughts of what could have happened to both dog and little girl if I hadn't found Shiloh were allowed to be fully contemplated. Shawn got a nice phone call right before boarding the plane. I needed something to calm me down and 12:30 on a Sunday afternoon might be too early for a beer.

I'm really hoping this is the most traumatic thing that happens while Shawn is gone, but I'm not going to hold my breath.