Today I'll just leave you with Billy's two favorite diaper changing songs:
I'm a Stinky Baby
(I'm A Little Teapot)
I'm a stinky baby
yes I am
better change me fast as you can
better change me quick as can be
'cause I pooped and I'm stinky
Super Pooper
(Abba's Super Trooper)
Super pooper
wipes are going to find me
but I won't be blue
it's not the thing to do
'cause in my diaper there is poo
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Friday, February 24, 2012
February 24, 2012 ~ Drink Your Peas
At dinner Billy had peas and some other things but he didn't want to eat any of it. Nope. Forget it. Instead he started screaming for my glass of water.
"Mommy, meh! Meh!" pointing wildly at the water.
Ok, ok, I gave him the water. But it was immediately obvious that the glass was in serious danger of losing its life. So, I got a plastic mug out of the cabinet and filled it with water. Oh, boy. That mug could have been made of gold.
First he spilled water all down his front. Then he drank from it. But let's not stop there.
All good food and drink must inevitably become a science experiment. Why eat your peas when you can drink them? He started throwing peas into his water and tried to drink it. Then he screamed when I took the cup away and replaced it with pea-free water.
Clearly, he wanted his pea water.
"Mommy, meh! Meh!" pointing wildly at the water.
Ok, ok, I gave him the water. But it was immediately obvious that the glass was in serious danger of losing its life. So, I got a plastic mug out of the cabinet and filled it with water. Oh, boy. That mug could have been made of gold.
First he spilled water all down his front. Then he drank from it. But let's not stop there.
All good food and drink must inevitably become a science experiment. Why eat your peas when you can drink them? He started throwing peas into his water and tried to drink it. Then he screamed when I took the cup away and replaced it with pea-free water.
Clearly, he wanted his pea water.
Thursday, February 23, 2012
February 23, 2011 ~ A Lenten Appeal (Don't Do That!)
Taking a toddler to Church and expecting them to behave is a lot like jumping in to a tank of hungry sharks and expecting them not to bite. Sometimes I think the sharks might be easier to handle.
I made the (unwise) decision to take Billy to Ash Wednesday Mass. Because I work, I took him to the evening Mass, which is also the most crowded. Billy, purse, diaper bag, Car Kitty and myself grabbed a pew in the back. Immediately, he wanted into the diaper bag to see what goodies I had brought him.
Now, thinking ahead, I had removed all of the usual toys from the bag. I usually keep rattles, noise makers and other plastic items that would either sing or make loud noises when banged against the wooden pews. I replaced them with soft toys, hoping that new toys would keep him occupied and that soft toys meant he could bang them against the pew to his heart's content.
I unzipped the bag and on top was his parrot puppet.
"Caca!" he happily screamed in the middle of solemn Mass. In hindsight, naming the parrot Crackers may not have been the best choice.
This would be when I started to sink down in the pew.
Then we pulled out a book. He tried to get the attention of the girl in front of us by throwing the book at her. Ok, time to move.
I picked up Billy, my purse, the diaper bag, Car Kitty and Crackers and went to stand in the side aisle. I rocked Billy on my hip.
"Look!" he points to the stained glass.
"Shh! Billy." I appealed to him to be quiet.
"Uh, oh. Mommy." He points to the prayer candles. Then he wags his finger. "No! No!"
The choir then started singing so I walked him up to see them. Unfortunately, they were out of sight behind the altar for the Mass (which is not standard) so we couldn't see them. Instead I took him in to a side chapel, hoping to keep his attention. He looked around and then pointed up and said, "ah!"
This was followed by an "ah, ah, ah" echo resonating in the chapel. He looked at me stunned.
"Aah! AAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" He screamed in delight.
Oh. My. God. I sprinted to the back of the Church and out the doors.
In the lobby were several parents with toddlers and all of the short people were talking loudly in toddler-speak. Well, we officially banished ourselves to the lobby with the other parent rejects, unable to keep their happy kids quiet.
I think we'll just pray at home from now on.
I made the (unwise) decision to take Billy to Ash Wednesday Mass. Because I work, I took him to the evening Mass, which is also the most crowded. Billy, purse, diaper bag, Car Kitty and myself grabbed a pew in the back. Immediately, he wanted into the diaper bag to see what goodies I had brought him.
Now, thinking ahead, I had removed all of the usual toys from the bag. I usually keep rattles, noise makers and other plastic items that would either sing or make loud noises when banged against the wooden pews. I replaced them with soft toys, hoping that new toys would keep him occupied and that soft toys meant he could bang them against the pew to his heart's content.
I unzipped the bag and on top was his parrot puppet.
"Caca!" he happily screamed in the middle of solemn Mass. In hindsight, naming the parrot Crackers may not have been the best choice.
This would be when I started to sink down in the pew.
Then we pulled out a book. He tried to get the attention of the girl in front of us by throwing the book at her. Ok, time to move.
I picked up Billy, my purse, the diaper bag, Car Kitty and Crackers and went to stand in the side aisle. I rocked Billy on my hip.
"Look!" he points to the stained glass.
"Shh! Billy." I appealed to him to be quiet.
"Uh, oh. Mommy." He points to the prayer candles. Then he wags his finger. "No! No!"
The choir then started singing so I walked him up to see them. Unfortunately, they were out of sight behind the altar for the Mass (which is not standard) so we couldn't see them. Instead I took him in to a side chapel, hoping to keep his attention. He looked around and then pointed up and said, "ah!"
This was followed by an "ah, ah, ah" echo resonating in the chapel. He looked at me stunned.
"Aah! AAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!" He screamed in delight.
Oh. My. God. I sprinted to the back of the Church and out the doors.
In the lobby were several parents with toddlers and all of the short people were talking loudly in toddler-speak. Well, we officially banished ourselves to the lobby with the other parent rejects, unable to keep their happy kids quiet.
I think we'll just pray at home from now on.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
February 21, 2012 ~ Adventures In Grandpop Babysitting
Tonight was another late night for me at work so Grandpop volunteered to babysit. I got everything ready for him. I wrote a list with the schedule on the board. I prepared enough healthy food for the Russian army for both he and Billy. I had everything for bedtime laid out and ready. Grandpop only had to watch Billy for an hour before bedtime, so I expected it to go easily.
How did it go?
~ Grandpop was initiated with an Epic Poo.
~ Cheese and crackers appear to be the main course from dinner...
~ Billy went to bed over an hour past his bedtime.
But the gentlemen had fun together despite having to pry Billy from me on the way out the door. I guess every kid deserves a little spoiling from their grandpop.
How did it go?
~ Grandpop was initiated with an Epic Poo.
~ Cheese and crackers appear to be the main course from dinner...
~ Billy went to bed over an hour past his bedtime.
But the gentlemen had fun together despite having to pry Billy from me on the way out the door. I guess every kid deserves a little spoiling from their grandpop.
Monday, February 20, 2012
February 20, 2012 ~ How To Lose An Intellectual Debate To A One-Year-Old
For lunch today I gave Billy some grapes with his science experiment, *ahem* I mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
He held one up to me and asked, "ball?"
"No honey that's a grape."
"Ball," he said, matter-of-factly and shoved it in his mouth with a smile.
"No. It's a grape. Can you say 'grape'? Grah-ape."
He held up another one. "Bah-all."
"Ok, it looks like a ball. But it's a grape."
He picked up another one and bounced it off of his tray. "Ball!" I don't think I realized that grapes bounce. Apparently, they do.
"Yes, it bounces like a ball, but it's a grape."
He grabbed another one and rolled it across his tray. "Mommy, ball. Buh-all!"
"Yes, it rolls like a ball and is round like a ball and bounces like a ball. But it's a grape."
At this point he had shoved all of them in his mouth (at once) and there were no more on his plate.
"Do you want more grapes?"
"NoNo. Mo(re) ball!"
"Ok, fine. More ball." And that's how he got another bowl of ripe, juicy, red, fruity balls that I like to call 'grapes'.
He held one up to me and asked, "ball?"
"No honey that's a grape."
"Ball," he said, matter-of-factly and shoved it in his mouth with a smile.
"No. It's a grape. Can you say 'grape'? Grah-ape."
He held up another one. "Bah-all."
"Ok, it looks like a ball. But it's a grape."
He picked up another one and bounced it off of his tray. "Ball!" I don't think I realized that grapes bounce. Apparently, they do.
"Yes, it bounces like a ball, but it's a grape."
He grabbed another one and rolled it across his tray. "Mommy, ball. Buh-all!"
"Yes, it rolls like a ball and is round like a ball and bounces like a ball. But it's a grape."
At this point he had shoved all of them in his mouth (at once) and there were no more on his plate.
"Do you want more grapes?"
"NoNo. Mo(re) ball!"
"Ok, fine. More ball." And that's how he got another bowl of ripe, juicy, red, fruity balls that I like to call 'grapes'.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
February 19, 2012 ~ Going Strawberry Blonde
Mealtime is always an adventure for a toddler- new tastes, new textures... what's not to love? Well, yesterday for lunch Billy decided it was high time to experiment with his food.
What to do with a PB&J? An adult would probably just eat his sandwich and go away contented with lunch. Not Billy. First, he pulled the sandwich apart to examine the innards. Next, he investigated the properties of peanut butter by getting a big dollop of it on each pointer finger and holding those fingers up in front of his face for a good look. Now, I bet you're expecting him to lick the PB from his fingers and say, "yum, yum!" But where's the fun in that? He looked hard at those fingers covered in peanutty goo and then shoved them in his ears. Ha! Bet you weren't expecting that! What? You didn't hear what I said? Maybe it's because you've got peanut butter in your ears.
Also for lunch he had strawberries. Billy loves strawberries. But in the spirit of science he couldn't just eat the strawberries. No, not Billy. He decided that he wanted to change his hair color by rubbing the strawberries all through his hair. Brings new meaning to "strawberry blonde".
Today was an epic blueberry day. Billy ate two bowls full of blueberries. He also learned how to say blueberry. "BooBah!" Since he learned to say "boobah" it's all he wants to eat. I made him stop after a reasonable number. But, come to find out that Daddy also gave him blueberry yogurt. I came home to find him, the highchair, the floor and his clothes covered in blueberry yogurt.
Note to self: limit blueberry intake. blue bum. That's all I'll say.
So let's review the weekend: a bum stained blue, hair dyed strawberry, and peanut butter in the ears.
What to do with a PB&J? An adult would probably just eat his sandwich and go away contented with lunch. Not Billy. First, he pulled the sandwich apart to examine the innards. Next, he investigated the properties of peanut butter by getting a big dollop of it on each pointer finger and holding those fingers up in front of his face for a good look. Now, I bet you're expecting him to lick the PB from his fingers and say, "yum, yum!" But where's the fun in that? He looked hard at those fingers covered in peanutty goo and then shoved them in his ears. Ha! Bet you weren't expecting that! What? You didn't hear what I said? Maybe it's because you've got peanut butter in your ears.
Also for lunch he had strawberries. Billy loves strawberries. But in the spirit of science he couldn't just eat the strawberries. No, not Billy. He decided that he wanted to change his hair color by rubbing the strawberries all through his hair. Brings new meaning to "strawberry blonde".
Today was an epic blueberry day. Billy ate two bowls full of blueberries. He also learned how to say blueberry. "BooBah!" Since he learned to say "boobah" it's all he wants to eat. I made him stop after a reasonable number. But, come to find out that Daddy also gave him blueberry yogurt. I came home to find him, the highchair, the floor and his clothes covered in blueberry yogurt.
Note to self: limit blueberry intake. blue bum. That's all I'll say.
So let's review the weekend: a bum stained blue, hair dyed strawberry, and peanut butter in the ears.
Saturday, February 18, 2012
The Sunday Post ~ Leggo the Leggins
Once upon a time I tried the whole leggins fashion. I was 10. It wasn't a good look. I would post some terribly awkward cute kiddie pics of myself, but the fashion was so horrifyingly ugly on me that I pretty sure that I burned all of those pics. And if I didn't I should have.
Later in life I returned to the leggins fashion- as exercise clothes. I had a whole workout wardrobe and thought I looked pretty chic. Except in the leggins. I went with them for comfort. But there were serious camel toe issues. Let's just acknowledge that elephant in the room. Too big and they wouldn't stay on, just right in size and whoosh! Riding up. It's an ugly sight.
So, much to my chagrin, this year the fashion rolled around for leggins with the tunic look. I wore this style back in the nineties, albeit with electric eighties prints and matching neon designs on the t-shirts. The rule in fashion is if you wore it before, you can't wear it again. So I plan on ignoring the latest fashion trend. Camel toe just isn't a good look for me.
On some ladies leggins look great (hey G... I'm talking to you!) Those are the fit right/right body type pants. On other ladies I have to wonder. I saw a grandmother in Target the other day wearing leggins. I saw more of where her "sun don't shine" than I ever wanted to see on a stranger. Some things are better left put away. Then there are the girls trying to pass off see-through tights for leggins. I feel like breaking into grade school rhyme when I see that... "I see London, I see France, I can see your underpants!"
I get it. I was a teenager once. But I have to wonder about the grown women going out in public proudly toting their camel toe like a Prada handbag. Really ladies?
Where will fashion take us next? I just hope that next year's look isn't butt crack.
Later in life I returned to the leggins fashion- as exercise clothes. I had a whole workout wardrobe and thought I looked pretty chic. Except in the leggins. I went with them for comfort. But there were serious camel toe issues. Let's just acknowledge that elephant in the room. Too big and they wouldn't stay on, just right in size and whoosh! Riding up. It's an ugly sight.
So, much to my chagrin, this year the fashion rolled around for leggins with the tunic look. I wore this style back in the nineties, albeit with electric eighties prints and matching neon designs on the t-shirts. The rule in fashion is if you wore it before, you can't wear it again. So I plan on ignoring the latest fashion trend. Camel toe just isn't a good look for me.
On some ladies leggins look great (hey G... I'm talking to you!) Those are the fit right/right body type pants. On other ladies I have to wonder. I saw a grandmother in Target the other day wearing leggins. I saw more of where her "sun don't shine" than I ever wanted to see on a stranger. Some things are better left put away. Then there are the girls trying to pass off see-through tights for leggins. I feel like breaking into grade school rhyme when I see that... "I see London, I see France, I can see your underpants!"
I get it. I was a teenager once. But I have to wonder about the grown women going out in public proudly toting their camel toe like a Prada handbag. Really ladies?
Where will fashion take us next? I just hope that next year's look isn't butt crack.
Friday, February 17, 2012
February 17, 2012 ~ Baptism: A Look Back
This weekend marks the one year anniversary of Billy joining the Church.
This is, by far, my favorite picture of Billy. Daddy is not a fan: he thinks the white baptism outfit is weird. But I love the little bonnet and the expression is priceless to me. The humorous thing about this photo is that he was actually crying at the time.
He wasn't so thrilled about this photo shoot we did a few days after the big event. We managed to get some really cute photos inbetween the tears, though.
These photos represent the beginning of (hopefully) a very long journey with religion and the Church. But a year out, he has had very little exposure. Daddy and I used to go often, but attending Mass with a toddler is just out of the question. He can't sit still or quiet for an hour and our Church doesn't have a kids' room. I have NO idea how parents manage to take their kids. We gave up. We went to Christmas Mass and Daddy and I took turns walking him around the VERY crowded Church to keep him quiet. I never leave before the priest exits the altar, but with Billy in tow we actually had to leave before that. Billy simply would not tolerate being in Church longer.
Some day I hope to take him to Church, but it's just not going to happen at this age. We tried a couple of times, but it's not worth the effort. Daddy and I don't get the experience we want out of it, and Billy doesn't understand what's going on.
Well at least he's baptized, right?
This is, by far, my favorite picture of Billy. Daddy is not a fan: he thinks the white baptism outfit is weird. But I love the little bonnet and the expression is priceless to me. The humorous thing about this photo is that he was actually crying at the time.
He wasn't so thrilled about this photo shoot we did a few days after the big event. We managed to get some really cute photos inbetween the tears, though.
These photos represent the beginning of (hopefully) a very long journey with religion and the Church. But a year out, he has had very little exposure. Daddy and I used to go often, but attending Mass with a toddler is just out of the question. He can't sit still or quiet for an hour and our Church doesn't have a kids' room. I have NO idea how parents manage to take their kids. We gave up. We went to Christmas Mass and Daddy and I took turns walking him around the VERY crowded Church to keep him quiet. I never leave before the priest exits the altar, but with Billy in tow we actually had to leave before that. Billy simply would not tolerate being in Church longer.
Some day I hope to take him to Church, but it's just not going to happen at this age. We tried a couple of times, but it's not worth the effort. Daddy and I don't get the experience we want out of it, and Billy doesn't understand what's going on.
Well at least he's baptized, right?
Thursday, February 16, 2012
February 16, 2012 ~ The Birds
This morning on our way out to work and daycare a peculiar sight stopped us in our tracks. Out on the lawn were hundreds of blackbirds and over twenty robins. It was quite a sight to behold. They were making a racket and I had several thoughts about Alfred Hitchcock while we stood in the driveway admiring this awesome sight.
"Kock, Kock!" Billy pointed, meaning "quack, quack".
He knew enough to compare his toy ducks to other birds and to know what noise a duck makes, and therefore, these birds.
"No. Those are Robin Redbreasts. They say chirp, chirp."
"RaRa... chi chi?" He asked.
"Yes, that's right." Well, pretty close anyway.
"Ooh. Duck. Kock, kock!"
And we're back to the ducks.
He found them so interesting that he ran at the lot of them on the lawn, causing hundreds of birds to take to the air and landing in the trees, sending up a cacophony of alarm. He just stood there and pointed up at the trees.
I don't know what inspired all of those birds to be out on the lawn this morning. All I know is that they inspired my son to "chi, chi" the whole way to daycare.
"Kock, Kock!" Billy pointed, meaning "quack, quack".
He knew enough to compare his toy ducks to other birds and to know what noise a duck makes, and therefore, these birds.
"No. Those are Robin Redbreasts. They say chirp, chirp."
"RaRa... chi chi?" He asked.
"Yes, that's right." Well, pretty close anyway.
"Ooh. Duck. Kock, kock!"
And we're back to the ducks.
He found them so interesting that he ran at the lot of them on the lawn, causing hundreds of birds to take to the air and landing in the trees, sending up a cacophony of alarm. He just stood there and pointed up at the trees.
I don't know what inspired all of those birds to be out on the lawn this morning. All I know is that they inspired my son to "chi, chi" the whole way to daycare.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
February 14, 2012 ~ The New Shoe Jig
Billy has finally outgrown his old shoes. This morning I broke out the new pair I bought him for Christmas that have been waiting in the closet for the inevitable growth spurt. It was love at first sight. He put them on and danced around the whole morning in his new shoes. Little stutter steps and lots of spinning around. It looked like a jig as he tested his new shoes.
Today also came with the Crayon Incident. The paper came off of the green crayon. This was an absolute tragedy. I tried to get him to color with the paperless crayon, but it was a No Go. Finally, I got the paper back on to the crayon and the world was right again. I never thought I'd see tears shed over the crayon wrapper.
For dinner I decided to treat him to dessert. As soon as I pulled out the cake that was the end of dinner. He saw that cake and that was all he was going to eat. He sucked every last sugar crystal from the fork like it was pure gold. Well, it is a pretty tasty treat- key lime cheesecake from the cheesecake factory. Yum. Even Billy was saying, "nom, nom, nom!"
So in honor of the holiday Billy would like to send you this very special valentine.
Today also came with the Crayon Incident. The paper came off of the green crayon. This was an absolute tragedy. I tried to get him to color with the paperless crayon, but it was a No Go. Finally, I got the paper back on to the crayon and the world was right again. I never thought I'd see tears shed over the crayon wrapper.
For dinner I decided to treat him to dessert. As soon as I pulled out the cake that was the end of dinner. He saw that cake and that was all he was going to eat. He sucked every last sugar crystal from the fork like it was pure gold. Well, it is a pretty tasty treat- key lime cheesecake from the cheesecake factory. Yum. Even Billy was saying, "nom, nom, nom!"
So in honor of the holiday Billy would like to send you this very special valentine.
Happy Valentine's Day, toddler style.
Monday, February 13, 2012
February 13, 2012 ~ Attack Robot!
After daycare I took Billy over to Grandma's for a visit. Usually he doesn't visit with her in the den, but she was sitting down there so we joined her. The first thing he noticed at the bottom of the steps was Roomba, her vacuum robot. He was very curious about it so I brought it in to the den with us.
I sat Roomba in the middle of the room and turned him on. He made his little beeps and bleeps and then began his spiral vacuum pattern. Immediately, Billy was afraid. He grabbed my pants and hid behind me. I demonstrated that Roomba is harmless and walked in front of it. Roomba gently tapped into my foot and rotated, then tapped again and again until it found a clear path away from my feet. But Billy still wasn't sure so I turned Roomba off and then sat down next to it.
Billy ran over and pointed to Roomba. The On/Off button was still lit up and called to him. He bent over and pressed it with gusto. Then Roomba sprang to life with his beeps and bleeps and took off sweeping. Billy leaped from the floor at the speed of light. He fell and propelled himself at the same time into my arms. While Roomba merrily vacuumed along, Billy clung to me for dear life and wouldn't let go until he was sure that Roomba was off for good.
You would think that vacuums would be a Hygiene Enforcer's best friend. But no, they are mortal enemies. Or rather, Roomba chugs along unawares while Billy runs screaming from it.
I sat Roomba in the middle of the room and turned him on. He made his little beeps and bleeps and then began his spiral vacuum pattern. Immediately, Billy was afraid. He grabbed my pants and hid behind me. I demonstrated that Roomba is harmless and walked in front of it. Roomba gently tapped into my foot and rotated, then tapped again and again until it found a clear path away from my feet. But Billy still wasn't sure so I turned Roomba off and then sat down next to it.
Billy ran over and pointed to Roomba. The On/Off button was still lit up and called to him. He bent over and pressed it with gusto. Then Roomba sprang to life with his beeps and bleeps and took off sweeping. Billy leaped from the floor at the speed of light. He fell and propelled himself at the same time into my arms. While Roomba merrily vacuumed along, Billy clung to me for dear life and wouldn't let go until he was sure that Roomba was off for good.
You would think that vacuums would be a Hygiene Enforcer's best friend. But no, they are mortal enemies. Or rather, Roomba chugs along unawares while Billy runs screaming from it.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
February 12, 2012 ~ First Haircut
That's right. Today Billy got his first haircut. It wasn't at a shop. It was in the kitchen and the barber was me. I sat down in the chair and put him on my lap. I trimmed off the curls in the back so now he truly has short hair. But I was too scared to go after his bangs and around his ears. One, he's squirmy and I'm terrified of nicking him. Two, I'm terrified that I will cut it wrong and he will be stuck with a bad haircut courtesy of Mommy until if grows out. But it looks much better.
As of this weekend Billy also has a new trick. Zerbert!
Imagine this and pardon the TMI. I wasn't feeling so hot and was having some quality time with the throne. At that most inopportune time Billy, who was hanging out in the throne room with me, decided to have a new trick. He walked over to my bare knee and... Zerbert! Not once, not twice, but three times I got raspberries while trapped. He's so proud of himself.
Later, he demonstrated to Grandma how he can attack hug me and zerbert any bare skin he can find. He crawled up under my big sweater (it's a wrap style but I didn't have the belt on). He figured out how to get my shirt up enough to zerbert my back. Lots of giggles. He was so proud of himself for knowing how to zerbert Mommy.
This weekend Billy also got to see our new home for the first time and got to help Daddy start packing up our stuff to move. It's a daunting task, and Billy's not so sure about the whole process, but it will be a grand adventure. But that's a story for another day!
As of this weekend Billy also has a new trick. Zerbert!
Imagine this and pardon the TMI. I wasn't feeling so hot and was having some quality time with the throne. At that most inopportune time Billy, who was hanging out in the throne room with me, decided to have a new trick. He walked over to my bare knee and... Zerbert! Not once, not twice, but three times I got raspberries while trapped. He's so proud of himself.
Later, he demonstrated to Grandma how he can attack hug me and zerbert any bare skin he can find. He crawled up under my big sweater (it's a wrap style but I didn't have the belt on). He figured out how to get my shirt up enough to zerbert my back. Lots of giggles. He was so proud of himself for knowing how to zerbert Mommy.
This weekend Billy also got to see our new home for the first time and got to help Daddy start packing up our stuff to move. It's a daunting task, and Billy's not so sure about the whole process, but it will be a grand adventure. But that's a story for another day!
Saturday, February 11, 2012
The Sunday Post- Spanking
A big discussion that came up this week on another blog I follow was about spanking. Yes or no?
It seemed that parents are divided and heated about their positions on spanking. Studies show that spanking does long term emotional harm to children.
But I think that the definition of spanking isn't clearly defined enough to prove or disprove anything. There's "spanking" that involves belts and bare bottoms and then there's spanking that uses light raps on the bottom, sometimes clothed. Are these in the same category? Do they cause the same kind of damage? There is a whole spectrum of spanking. It's a hot button topic and open for debate.
I'm not a big fan of spanking. And depending on the child there are much better punishment methods out there. But Daddy and I do sometimes have to use light raps to cull the bad behavior. What do we mean? We never, ever bend Billy over the knee with bare bottom. Nope. Too far for us. If he is really bad- having been told "no" three times and been in time out and still continues the dangerous behavior- then he gets a rap. I usually call it a bum smack. Three taps on the rear in the diaper and fully clothed, nothing stronger than a pat on the back. In every instance it has curbed his behavior. And we follow up with making him apologize and getting a hug. This is a specific practice for a toddler too young to listen to words, too young to understand time out and too young to know not to run in front of a car.
Discipline is very important to us and we work on it every day. It's a constant struggle and we are always instructing Billy on what is right and wrong for his health, safety and social welfare. We work hard enough on it that getting a rap on the bum is something very rare around here. He knows better because we teach him daily. And he reinforces that knowledge by walking around and telling me what he knows is a NoNo.
So how do you feel on the issue? To spank or not to spank?
It seemed that parents are divided and heated about their positions on spanking. Studies show that spanking does long term emotional harm to children.
But I think that the definition of spanking isn't clearly defined enough to prove or disprove anything. There's "spanking" that involves belts and bare bottoms and then there's spanking that uses light raps on the bottom, sometimes clothed. Are these in the same category? Do they cause the same kind of damage? There is a whole spectrum of spanking. It's a hot button topic and open for debate.
I'm not a big fan of spanking. And depending on the child there are much better punishment methods out there. But Daddy and I do sometimes have to use light raps to cull the bad behavior. What do we mean? We never, ever bend Billy over the knee with bare bottom. Nope. Too far for us. If he is really bad- having been told "no" three times and been in time out and still continues the dangerous behavior- then he gets a rap. I usually call it a bum smack. Three taps on the rear in the diaper and fully clothed, nothing stronger than a pat on the back. In every instance it has curbed his behavior. And we follow up with making him apologize and getting a hug. This is a specific practice for a toddler too young to listen to words, too young to understand time out and too young to know not to run in front of a car.
Discipline is very important to us and we work on it every day. It's a constant struggle and we are always instructing Billy on what is right and wrong for his health, safety and social welfare. We work hard enough on it that getting a rap on the bum is something very rare around here. He knows better because we teach him daily. And he reinforces that knowledge by walking around and telling me what he knows is a NoNo.
So how do you feel on the issue? To spank or not to spank?
February 10, 2012 ~ Old Dog, New Tricks
This morning Billy learned a new NoNo. He was following Buddy around and finally got him cornered. Then he grabbed Buddy's short, little tail and hung on for dear life, laughing hysterically. Well, docked doggy tails are pretty funny. But Buddy's not to fond of a 25lb weight hanging off of his tail.
"Billy!" I said forcefully, "no, no!"
Right on cue Billy let go. Oh, NoNo? So now we have a new game. Billy chases Buddy's bum around the room giggling "NoNo!" Just in case you were wondering, Buddy's bum is off limits.
This evening Billy continued to harass Buddy, but I made Billy apologize and give Buddy a big hug. Billy just wants to be best buds. Sorry for the pun, but it's true. Billy threw Buddy's ball for him, all 4 feet that Billy can muster. Billy shared his snack with Buddy. And Billy tried to pet him on his back gently- well, gently for a toddler, anyway.
Dogs are a very interesting thing to Billy and he wants to know more about them. He sat in my lap while Buddy showed off his repertoire of tricks. Billy even got to shake Buddy's hand on command. I asked Buddy to talk and then taught Billy to talk back to Buddy. Buddy would do his high-pitched trick bark (the one that gets him treats) and Billy would say "oo, oo!" right back at him in a high-pitched voice. OoOo, like "woof, woof" for someone that can't say w's or f's.
Yep. I taught my son some new tricks for playing with our old dog.
"Billy!" I said forcefully, "no, no!"
Right on cue Billy let go. Oh, NoNo? So now we have a new game. Billy chases Buddy's bum around the room giggling "NoNo!" Just in case you were wondering, Buddy's bum is off limits.
This evening Billy continued to harass Buddy, but I made Billy apologize and give Buddy a big hug. Billy just wants to be best buds. Sorry for the pun, but it's true. Billy threw Buddy's ball for him, all 4 feet that Billy can muster. Billy shared his snack with Buddy. And Billy tried to pet him on his back gently- well, gently for a toddler, anyway.
Dogs are a very interesting thing to Billy and he wants to know more about them. He sat in my lap while Buddy showed off his repertoire of tricks. Billy even got to shake Buddy's hand on command. I asked Buddy to talk and then taught Billy to talk back to Buddy. Buddy would do his high-pitched trick bark (the one that gets him treats) and Billy would say "oo, oo!" right back at him in a high-pitched voice. OoOo, like "woof, woof" for someone that can't say w's or f's.
Yep. I taught my son some new tricks for playing with our old dog.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
February 9, 2012 ~ The Wagging Billy Finger
Billy will be happy to walk you around the house wagging his finger and letting you know what is a "no, no!" He walks into a room and immediately goes over to the NoNo and wags his finger at it, letting me know that he knows it's a NoNo. Care to walk around the house?
The Den:
Radiator: "NoNo. Hot!" Finger wags.
Wall heater: "NoNo." Hands in air. He's not sure why it's a NoNo.
TV: "NoNo." Then he smacks it with his hands and I shout, "No! No!" He laughs.
The Kitchen:
Dog water: "NoNo." Finger wags. Tries to stick a foot in the water anyway.
Oven: "NoNo. Hot!" Not right now, but let's go with it.
Trash: "Ooooh!" What Hygiene Enforcer doesn't love a dirt container? He loves to throw things out.
Our Bedroom:
Outlets: "NoNo." Finger wags.
My alarm clock: "NoNo." Tries to push the buttons anyway and grabs the electrical cord. "Billy, no!"
Bathroom:
Toilet: "NoNo." Then he grabs as much toilet paper as he can before I stop him and throws it into the toilet. "Look!" Yes, yes. That's enough. Save some TP for me! Mommy doesn't wear a diaper!
Wherever we are, Billy will be sure to let me know what is a "NoNo." Then, if he feels like it, he'll do it anyway. It's a toddler prerogative.
The Den:
Radiator: "NoNo. Hot!" Finger wags.
Wall heater: "NoNo." Hands in air. He's not sure why it's a NoNo.
TV: "NoNo." Then he smacks it with his hands and I shout, "No! No!" He laughs.
The Kitchen:
Dog water: "NoNo." Finger wags. Tries to stick a foot in the water anyway.
Oven: "NoNo. Hot!" Not right now, but let's go with it.
Trash: "Ooooh!" What Hygiene Enforcer doesn't love a dirt container? He loves to throw things out.
Our Bedroom:
Outlets: "NoNo." Finger wags.
My alarm clock: "NoNo." Tries to push the buttons anyway and grabs the electrical cord. "Billy, no!"
Bathroom:
Toilet: "NoNo." Then he grabs as much toilet paper as he can before I stop him and throws it into the toilet. "Look!" Yes, yes. That's enough. Save some TP for me! Mommy doesn't wear a diaper!
Wherever we are, Billy will be sure to let me know what is a "NoNo." Then, if he feels like it, he'll do it anyway. It's a toddler prerogative.
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
February 7, 2012 ~ A Picture of Paw
On a bookshelf in our den I keep an old, faded photo, yellow with time. It is a photo of great importance to me, although I look at it infrequently. It is my parent's wedding photo. They are young, happy, long before the divorce. Standing with them are their parents. They are dressed in all of their finery. To my knowledge it is the only photo with all of them together.
I have taken flack from both of my parents for displaying their wedding photo. But it's not about their defunct marriage. It's about the people. In that photo are all of my parents, grand or otherwise.
Today while playing, Billy went over to look at the digital picture frame that sits next to the old wedding photo. Then he looked at the photo and pointed directly at my maternal grandfather. "Granddad!" he said matter-of-factly.
I have never referred to this man by that name. To me he was simply Paw. I grew up in his house and was as close to him as I am with my parents. This is the benefit of having three generations under one roof. There is a very special bond when the grandparent is around full time. I think of him often. But, honestly, I rarely speak of him now.
I have also never talked to Billy about who is in the photo. Speaking of long gone relatives seems a bit over the head of a one-year-old. We're still working on things like eating with a fork. So, he should have no knowledge of who is in the photo other than by mistake.
Daddy suggested that maybe he thought the man in the photo was Grandpop and he said the wrong name too. I guess this could be so. But Paw is wearing thick-rimmed glasses in the photo and Grandpop doesn't need glasses. Also, the two men look nothing alike, except for the receding hairlines. Perhaps he thinks it is his grandfather (Daddy's dad). At least he wears glasses. But Billy has only met him twice and I doubt would recall him by name.
I will probably never know if it was simply a mistake or if he somehow knows who Paw is. But I would like to think that maybe, just maybe, his namesake is watching over him. I hope so.
I have taken flack from both of my parents for displaying their wedding photo. But it's not about their defunct marriage. It's about the people. In that photo are all of my parents, grand or otherwise.
Today while playing, Billy went over to look at the digital picture frame that sits next to the old wedding photo. Then he looked at the photo and pointed directly at my maternal grandfather. "Granddad!" he said matter-of-factly.
I have never referred to this man by that name. To me he was simply Paw. I grew up in his house and was as close to him as I am with my parents. This is the benefit of having three generations under one roof. There is a very special bond when the grandparent is around full time. I think of him often. But, honestly, I rarely speak of him now.
I have also never talked to Billy about who is in the photo. Speaking of long gone relatives seems a bit over the head of a one-year-old. We're still working on things like eating with a fork. So, he should have no knowledge of who is in the photo other than by mistake.
Daddy suggested that maybe he thought the man in the photo was Grandpop and he said the wrong name too. I guess this could be so. But Paw is wearing thick-rimmed glasses in the photo and Grandpop doesn't need glasses. Also, the two men look nothing alike, except for the receding hairlines. Perhaps he thinks it is his grandfather (Daddy's dad). At least he wears glasses. But Billy has only met him twice and I doubt would recall him by name.
I will probably never know if it was simply a mistake or if he somehow knows who Paw is. But I would like to think that maybe, just maybe, his namesake is watching over him. I hope so.
Monday, February 6, 2012
February 6, 2012 ~ Early Morning Serenade
First, I would like to report that Billy is doing just fine and still has no symptoms from his fall.
This morning Billy woke up extra early. He was up before me, before Daddy and even before the sun. At least once a week he does this, if not more often. How do I know? He wakes up and starts singing.
Imagine a nice warm bed, all cozy and sleeping soundly. Then, the soft wafting of toddler tune drifting through your bedroom door and waking you up in the darkness before dawn. Sometimes too quiet to hear, sometimes loud, never to a recognizable song nor with a tune you could remotely try to follow. The lyrics are always unitelligible toddler ramble, non-rhyming and repetitive. Sometimes, rarely, his melodic windings will be interjected with an, "oh, no!" or "oh, look!" or "uh, oh!" Sometimes, rarely, giggles and pure laughter will punctuate the songs. Then, when one of our alarms goes off, the happy singing will turn to whining [translation: I can hear you, come get me now].
This morning Billy woke me before my alarm. I turned it off and let him serenade me. He kept singing until I got up to get him, happy as a clam in his crib. What better way to wake up?
This morning Billy woke up extra early. He was up before me, before Daddy and even before the sun. At least once a week he does this, if not more often. How do I know? He wakes up and starts singing.
Imagine a nice warm bed, all cozy and sleeping soundly. Then, the soft wafting of toddler tune drifting through your bedroom door and waking you up in the darkness before dawn. Sometimes too quiet to hear, sometimes loud, never to a recognizable song nor with a tune you could remotely try to follow. The lyrics are always unitelligible toddler ramble, non-rhyming and repetitive. Sometimes, rarely, his melodic windings will be interjected with an, "oh, no!" or "oh, look!" or "uh, oh!" Sometimes, rarely, giggles and pure laughter will punctuate the songs. Then, when one of our alarms goes off, the happy singing will turn to whining [translation: I can hear you, come get me now].
This morning Billy woke me before my alarm. I turned it off and let him serenade me. He kept singing until I got up to get him, happy as a clam in his crib. What better way to wake up?
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