Tag Archives: preschoolers

mommyhood, things toddlers say

Things Toddlers Say

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Happy Tuesday! We’ve had a fun week, including EK’s weekend trip with her grandparents, who thankfully sent me a few of her one-liners to share with you 🙂

  
First and foremost, J now says his version of EK’s name. He says, “E-Tay”. Adorable.

At some point, we explained to EK that D couldn’t eat food yet because he didn’t have any teeth. That led to lots of discussions about how babies are born without teeth, and how she didn’t have teeth when she was born either. Now when she sees someone – anyone – the first thing she wants to tell them is the D doesn’t have teeth, and how she didn’t either when she was a baby.

We went to the hospital the other day to meet our friend’s new baby girl, and all the way from the “alligator” (elevator) in the parking deck up to her room, EK was singing “We’re going to see our baby! We’re going to see our baby!” to the tune of “na-na-na-na boo-boo”. Awesome.

On the same trip to the hospital, walking in next to another group of people…
EK: Mom! Those people are going to see our baby, too!
Me: I don’t think they’re going to see the same baby we are, but they might be seeing a baby!
Turns out they were, right down the hall!

Meeting our friend Ginna’s baby, Grace…
EK: Aww! She’s so cute! She doesn’t have any teeth, because she’s a baby.
Good thing we’ve really solidified that concept.

J now sings part of the chorus (the oh’s) on Katy Perry’s “California Girls”. That is all. (Disclaimer: This is purely the result of how often it comes on the radio. I do not own the song or play the song or choose the song.)

In one day, J had Mexican for lunch and the. Chips and salsa for a snack at home. He started tossing food in the floor (his M.O.) so I pushed everything away from him. He got really sad, then pointed and said, “I want salsa!” in a sweet little voice. Hubby responded with, “Yes sir! You get what you want when you use the right word!” Encouraging vocabulary, discouraging selflessness.

J, climbing into a barstool-height chair…
J: Hep! Hep! Hep wit dis!
(Update: “Hep wit dis” is now on a permanent rotation for when he needs any sort of help with anything.)

And now for a few gems that my mother-in-law passed on to me from their weekend together at the lake…

Annie: EK, do you need to go poopy?
EK: No, I’ve already done that this week.

Annie: Would you like some goldfish to eat in the car?
EK: No thanks, just some M&Ms.

Being tucked into bed…
EK: This is just so cozy!

Finding a dead centipede…
EK: He’s really sad. He shouldn’t have bit his brother.

And there you have it. My one and a half year old is now making regular appearances and my preschooler is blowing my mind with how she consistently is hilarious. What are your kids talking about these days?

mommyhood, parenting fails

Never Do That Again: A Pondering on Threenagers

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Never is a big word, friends. I try not to use it. Its permanence and irretrievable negativity make me nervous. But the one time I do use it, I’m okay with: Never do that again.

 When I’m talking to my daughter, and she does something that scares me, hurts me or someone else, or is just plain offensive, I tell her to never do it again. And then I explain why.

For example, a couple of weeks ago, we were meeting some friends for lunch at our favorite bagel place. I had parked and gotten the kids out before our friends had, so we patiently waited for them to get out of their car, cross the aisle, and meet us. Well, I was patient. EK suddenly pulled way from me, and ran across the parking lot aisle to be with her friends. AND THERE WAS A CAR COMING. Thank God the mother in the Suburban was closely watching and didn’t hit my kid (maybe because she had had a kid who ran out in the road in the past) but I was frantic. I was angry (about as angry as I’ve ever been) and scared and angry some more. I was obviously glad she was fine, but that almost took a backseat to the fear she made me feel when she pulled her hand from mine and took off.

When I had crossed to her, I knelt down, took her face in mine, and made her look at me. I told her how she should never do that again, because it was dangerous, she could’ve gotten hurt, she scared me, she scared our friends, etc. She knew I was serious, I thought. She didn’t cry, but I could tell by her face she was listening and at least partially comprehending. My heart slowed down a little, and we went and had a nice lunch.

Coming out of the restaurant, we were hugging and high-fiving on the sidewalk with our friends, making plans for the next time we’d see them. We had almost gotten to our car when EK decided to make a second round of running around the parking lot. I ALMOST LOST IT. This time, there was no car, and anger was much more than fear. I finally got to her, pulled her over to the car, and made her stand right there while I put J in his car seat. Then, I made some sort of country threat (straight to my roots in a moment of primal fear) like “I’m gonna tear your butt up if you do that again!” in a way that totally lost its “oomph”. I thought about spanking her right then and there, but settled (wisely) for pinning her down in her car seat, closing the door, and taking a deep breath.

Where had I gone wrong to make her think she could do that? How had I not taught her better? I’m a broken record with the “We always hold hands in the parking lot.” (Note to the mom: Always is a concept much like never. If she doesn’t get one, she probably won’t get the other.) I’ve warned that streets and parking lots are dangerous places and told her repeatedly to be careful. I mean, I’ve literally held J like a football to prevent him from getting to the ground for takeoff. But there was obviously a fail somewhere along the way.

I guess she didn’t understand the concept of “never”. It’s a hard one, to be sure. But she didn’t understand. I was just her mom, telling her what to do, just like 25 other times already that day. Why should “Always hold my hand.” and “Never run from me like that.” be any different? Giant light bulb for me: my threenager doesn’t understand obscure concepts. Duh.

How do I make my threenager understand the difference between something serious and something that doesn’t matter as much? Between something dangerous and something I’d just rather her not do? Tacking “never” on to the front of the sentence obviously won’t do it. It doesn’t hold the weight for my daughter that it holds for me. Why? Because she’s three. I can’t remember that and repeat those words to myself enough. She’s three. She’s only three. It’s because she’s three.

Maybe she’s just three, and I’m just trying to be a good mama.

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus

Potty Training Is Hard.

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

I guess the title sorta gives this one away, huh?

I’m not saying anything that tons of parents haven’t said before. The idea that potty training is hard is not new. But for some reason, it really hit home how hard it was when I had my first poop-in-big-girl-panties experience. And then the second.

  
Gross, am I right? Bleaching the underwear, making sure nothing ended up on the floor, trying to firmly scold without shaming said potty trainer… those things are all important. That last one most of all. I feel like I’m stuck in a lame cycle of “Mommy’s so proud you used the potty!” and “We’ll try harder next time.” when what I really want to do is shout, at the top of my lungs, “YOU JUST WENT – WHY DIDN’T YOU POOP THEN?!”

Okay fine. I’ve shouted it. This morning at 8:00am, I shouted it.

I don’t want to shame my daughter. I don’t want to scare her into using the potty. I’d like to her use it for a good reason, like it’s less messy, or it’s more fun (no, that isn’t a stretch). I want to help her do the right thing, whether it’s use that porcelain throne or not bite her brother (I mean, does he taste good or something!?), because she knows to make the right choice, not because she’s scared of what I’ll say or do.

We’re in a season of pushing limits, repeating what I say (THAT is scary, if you’re not a parenting of a talking child yet.) and coming into her own. I’ve learned I have to clean up my mouth, watch my actions, and not project bad feelings onto my kids. She asks if I’m sad or mad when she can tell I’m not happy. And sometimes, I don’t want her to have that feeling put onto her. Sometimes, I don’t really need her to know I’m totally fed up at cleaning her messes when I know good and well she’s able to tell me when she needs to go (she told me once on a farm and used a Port-A-John, for goodness sake). I don’t want her to think I’m disappointed in her.

As for right now, stuck in potty training hell and knowing I’ve got two more rounds to go, I’m trying to set a good example. Not just for the practical side, but also the emotional side. I want to respond to unfavorable situations positively. I want to be an example of grace as I help her correct her mistakes. I want to (figuratively and literally) clean up the mess, and try harder next time. We both need a little grace to be the best we can be.