Beach or Bust

It is finally here friends! My first real vacation since March of 2012 (our “babymoon”)! I am beyond excited and the mind numbing slowness of this week is proof that I am beyond ready to get out of town! We will be going to the Delaware shore, a 2.5 hour drive. We are going with my mom and my brother. This adds an element of excitement and the unknown as I have not vacationed with my mother since I was a teen (and it did not go well). I am hoping my mom and I will find our own harmonious existence on this trip. Either way, the excitement comes with a built in babysitter! Skiddlie Doo! My husband and I will get to enjoy at least one date night and possibly some afternoon freedom one day! A very rare treat indeed.  

All of this is not to overshadow the most exciting part of the week, it is the first full week I have been able to spend with Emma /we have spent together as a family since right after she was born. I am thrilled we get to create a lot of memories together on this trip! Playing in the sand, eating ice cream and pizza, possibly riding bikes together, the forecast for an awesome time looks good. However, I am not a fool. I know we are also in for some melt downs and some grumpy toddler times, but that is to be expected, more opportunities for me to work on my patience. 

Anyways, I just wanted to throw up this little blurb before we went seeing as how there is a good possibility we won’t have wi-fi and I might be in a vacation coma so my posts could be few to non-existent next week, but I look forward to documenting our fun times on Instagram (link on the right of the blog) and I look forward to sharing all of our adventures with you when we return. Until then!

Our Stinky Old Boy

It’s been awhile since I wrote a post about something non-baby related (but don’t worry this too shall swing back into that genre.)For now, I wanted to talk a little bit about our stinky old boy.  I know quite a name (and yes there is a song that goes with it – how could there not be – if you have my phone number I give you permission to call me and I will sing it for you, although I warn you it is only three lines and not very Tony worthy, but nonetheless.) Our stinky old boy in case you were wondering is not our red headed step child, in fact, he is a very well loved and cared for member of the family, our dog Stanley. Well actually, he belongs to my husband but over the years he has found a spot in each of our hearts and has become a very important member of the family. 

Stanley’s story is one of adventure, twists and turns actually. It is what I am considering for possible book material of course to be rewritten into an off the wall script and turned into a mega “Marley and Me” type of hit movie. (No, actually that would be awesome.) Anyway you look at it, Stanley and my husband have a very special bond. In fact, Stanley was never meant to belong to my husband in the first place, but rather my husband was sort of “chosen” by Stanley. They have been in each other’s lives for over 6 years. To put it into perspective, my husband and I have only been married for 2 years (in October) and together for almost 5 years, so before I came along he had Stanley, who was like his bachelor pad bro. Before I brought Bella into the picture and we adopted two more energetic girl dogs, and oh yeah had one of those babies, it was just the two of them.  They did a lot together and to this day it’s kind of like a dude male bonding thing since us girls way out number them.

So about two weeks ago, Stanley started limping. Thomas took him to the vet and we found out he had hip dysplacia. Upon further investigation, we found out that both of his hips have badly deteriorated and his lower spine is not doing well either. He also had a torn ACL which was the majority of the reason why his limp was so bad. I won’t get into to many more details but between the recommendation from the vet and what we discussed, we decided to get Stanley the knee surgery. This means he will be better with time, but basically he will never be 100% his old self and not too much will get better going forward. 

The sad fact is, he is 9 years old, which is the lower end of the life expectancy for his breed. He could possibly live to 12. He still has a lot of life left in him from what we can tell. His spirit is still very much there. I personally believe he will bounce back pretty well after the surgery, but I am trying to be realistic. We are still having a difficult time coping with the diagnosis, but all in all we knew he was getting up there in age. He really is just the sweetest dog to humans ever (he is not a fan of small animals or other male dogs.) Emma adores him and while I am almost certain she can’t yet tell the dogs apart, I know it is only a matter of time before she starts calling them by their names and not just a generic “doggie” name. 

Thomas and I have been lucky enough to not have had any major losses in our families recently so this one will be a tough pill to swallow when it happens, even if it is a few years down the line, when Emma becomes aware of the situation. It’s like all of a sudden, my life just got more adult, if that can even really happen. Explaining death to a child is something grown-ups do and definitely something I don’t even know how to approach. I am hoping we have some time before all of that. I suppose learning to cope with sadness and grief is a part of life. Something I will always be there for to support my child and help her get through anyway I can.

Ps. Stanley post-surgery is doing GREAT! He is a little bummed he can’t play with the other dogs just yet and his mobility is very limited but his tail is still wagging! We are very thankful to have more time to share with our friend. 

Little Red Chair

Little Red Chair

It sits in the corner all neat and snug

Until a little girl comes to give it some love

The shiny hard plastic comes bursting to life

When her tiny wandering hands go flying by

She moves it and turns it and positions it just right

She shares it with her friends. It brings much delight

She lounges and mingles

Kicks her feet and giggles

It’s amazing what comes to life

When an adventuresome baby comes waddling by.

A Furry Friend

Bear oh Bear, dear furry friend

I hug you and kiss you and cuddle you again

I lay you down to sleep

I pick you up to eat

We wander for hours

With you my imagination has no end.

Just two silly little poems about Emma’s two favorite things, her red chair and her pooh bear. Now to be clear, I did mention her love affair with pooh a few months back, but let me tell you the relationship there has grown tremendously since. But let me start first with the chair, or rather with the first chair. You see this little red gem is the third chair in a long line of chair trials. Yes, my kid is Goldie Locks and this third little chair seems to have hit the mark. We started out with a rocking chair from my childhood. It is still in her room but it is too high up for her and her lack of self-awareness leaves her feet in a dangerous position when near the rocking part of the chair. I find myself constantly watching to make sure she doesn’t rock over her little piggies. So, we then moved on to what I thought would be a safer, stationary chair. My husband’s childhood chair (yes both of our moms are nostalgic pack rats but we love it!) Emma had a grand old time climbing up and proudly sitting upon the chair. For some reason she gets so excited when she is sitting in a chair, like this is her one true connection with the adult world in her eyes. 

In the far right corner you can see the rocking chair, the only picture I had of it on my phone at the time. 

 

Daddy's blue chair. Great for jumping off of. (not so much)

 

This chairful bliss did not last long however, she soon realized (and by soon I mean after 5 minutes of sitting) that she could STAND on this chair and jump about. I attempted to resolve this problem several times by simply instructing her not to stand on the chair, but any mother of a toddler knows that a patient explanation ain’t going to cut it (and by ain’t going to cut it, read: child ignores me and then throws a tantrum when taken off said chair). So daddy’s chair has disappeared for now. 

My next thought was to get her one of those soft comfy chairs. I thought that might be a safer choice, but let me tell you, those suckers run upwards of $50-$100 for the nice ones (sorry we ain’t –yeah I’m using ain’t again- pottery barn kids chic around here). The more affordable ones are about $20, but seeing as how her birthday was a little over a month ago I did not feel like I could justify a purchase like that (yeah even $20). Fast forward to our trip to Kmart on Saturday morning (once again, I live in the ghetto so there are Kmarts, not Walmarts). I had to pick up a few things and we were strolling around…and low and behold…there it was…the little red chair. It was short enough for her, the seat was rounded making it nearly impossible to stand on and it was affordable, $8! I knew the quality was not superb but I figured to fulfill my daughter’s need to have a place to sit, I could swing it. 

Her red throne! 

Well, she LOVES it! She sits in it and swings her feet and shares it with her stuffed animals. It’s the cutest thing…which leads me back to Pooh Bear. Pooh Bear lives in Emma’s room (for now) and every night when we go into her room she finds him and cuddles with him. Lately, she has been hugging him and then laying him down on top of this puzzle base, like it’s his little bed. It makes me melt inside when I see her already starting to use her imagination! My fear though…this is getting dangerously close to playing house…which gets dangerously close to having a little girl that enjoys stereotypical little girl things. I am not too worried at the moment, since my plan is to make sure we keep lots of blocks and trucks around for her to play with, but still I am concerned. For now, if Pooh Bear and her little red chair are what make her happy then I shall oblige, as long as she remembers to give mommy a hug once in a while too. 

 

D is for...

 

It is finally happening! I no longer have a small squishy baby that just lays contently in her bassinet cooing and pooping. I have a full blown, run around screaming toddler! And not just that, I have a little girl who is on the cusp of developing and learning new things every minute of every day. It seems to be pretty rare to just find her playing quietly in a corner. Every little thing is new and every boundary has to be pushed and I am trying my best to keep up. The D in this case is for the scariest part of parenting for me…discipline. That word scares me for many deeply complex reasons, many of which stem from my own sheltered childhood, which I will not be getting into here (sorry you will have to wait for my memoir). 

I can say that I do know what it is like to come from a strict household. As such, I was hoping to exhibit patience and have a little give and take, a little wiggle room if you will when it comes to disciplining my own children (ok ok I was secretly hoping my husband would take over in this department and I could be the laid back mom sitting on her lawn chair sipping her mint julep, you know the “cool mom”). I can see now that that will not be an option. For one, my husband works over 50 hours a week so he is not home enough and it seems that Emma keeps getting into situations that require me to say something or take action because they could cause serious harm to herself or others. The problem is she is still so young that I wonder if explaining the same thing over and over to her really does anything. 

I sort of employ the one two three method of discipline right now. One, use my words to explain to her what she is doing wrong and let her know it is not good for her (I try to offer up specifics ie. you cannot open and close your dresser drawers because you will smash your fingers in them), two I usually repeat number one and take some sort of action, ie. move her hand out of the way, and then finally I give up and take her out of the situation all together. This usually ends up in a fall to the ground crying tantrum which seems to be happening more and more these days. I realize that I have to step up into this disciplinary role for her safety as well as the safety of others but it is really no fun when you tell your kid they can no longer get on the chair (which was giving them great joy) because they kept trying to jump off it and then they have the enviable, mommy hates me and is no fun and no body loves me melt down. 

It looks like this will be our charted path for a while until she learns what personal space is (yes I have the kid that likes to touch other kids) or learns how to land on her feet after a free fall. The problem is…well me of course. I know children need boundaries and all but I want my children to be close with me and trust me and know they can come to me for anything. I don’t want them thinking oh there’s my wet blanket mother who never lets me do anything fun. I really hope to balance fun, safety, and adventure if at all possible. It’s tough having a little one who is still trying to understand language much less the behavior constructs of society, but we are working on it. 

I also harbor fears because both her father and I are very stubborn, determined individuals, which is great when you are trying to accomplish an impossible task, but detrimental if you need to follow pesky rules or conform to something you don’t agree with that’s the social norm. I know it is hard to fit into the mold sometimes but I am going to do my best to let her express herself while learning what acceptable behavior is. 

For now, I am doing my best to accept the challenging times ahead of me. After working for 7 years in retail I have the amazing ability to conjure up patience with people in the most frustrating of situations. I am trying to apply that knowledge to raising a toddler, so far my success rate has been about 50/50. With every scream and every teardrop I am getting closer to understanding and reacting in a calm, nurturing manner and that’s the best I can do for now. 

How do you disciple your toddler?