Friday, July 19, 2013
Drawn In Thursdays Postponed
Sorry folks. You know what happens when I'm too busy to see straight? I don't have time to draw the cartoon. Drawn In will return to it's regular schedule next week when I'm not so busy.
July 17, 2013 ~ Murphy's Law
I knew that if I wrote about our potty training successes that I would be shooting myself in the foot. I was right.
Already we're back to accidents. 5 straight successes and the playground got us again. I don't know what it is about playground equipment that inspires his bowels. As long as I keep him away from the playground we're good. Too bad there's one at school that he gets to play on every day.
*Shuffles off to do poopy laundry.*
Already we're back to accidents. 5 straight successes and the playground got us again. I don't know what it is about playground equipment that inspires his bowels. As long as I keep him away from the playground we're good. Too bad there's one at school that he gets to play on every day.
*Shuffles off to do poopy laundry.*
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
July 16, 2013 ~ We Have Poop!
Listen, I realize that normal people don't get excited about bodily functions. I get it. But when you've been potty training since September and it's now July, poop is a big deal. BIG deal.
That's right folks.
4 consecutive poops in the potty by none other than my favorite toddler. That's not just chance. That's a streak. Not only that... he pooped at school, a friend's house, grandma's and at home. By Jove, I think he's got it!
So far he has received (in no particular order): gummy worms, Reece's Pieces, a trip to the ice cream store, a football, a set of bouncy balls and a promise for more ice cream and toys if he keeps it up.
Fingers crossed!
That's right folks.
4 consecutive poops in the potty by none other than my favorite toddler. That's not just chance. That's a streak. Not only that... he pooped at school, a friend's house, grandma's and at home. By Jove, I think he's got it!
So far he has received (in no particular order): gummy worms, Reece's Pieces, a trip to the ice cream store, a football, a set of bouncy balls and a promise for more ice cream and toys if he keeps it up.
Fingers crossed!
Monday, July 15, 2013
The Sunday Post ~ 1948 Ride On Indian Motorcycle
Buy it here
This replica is for the 2-6 range, but not to exceed 60 pounds. Weighs about 20 pounds.
If you grew up in the 80s or 90s you'll probably think of this little vehicle as a Power Wheels. Technically, it's not the same brand, but the concept is the same.
This is the perfect little ride-on for the toddler that is too young to ride a bike.
Flat surfaces are a must: It goes 1.6 miles per hour, which seems fast, but it much slower than walking pace. There are no brakes, so keep that in mind. It stops when the child takes his foot off of the "gas" pedal. It has zero chance of making up a slight hill, but does present a minor hazard when attempting to go downhill without brakes.
Despite the "training wheels" the bike is extremely tippy, especially making tight turns or navigating up a slope at an angle. Helmets are a must. Getting on and off also presents a tipping opportunity, so be sure to help your child on and off.
Unfortunately, all of the cool details on the bike provide ample things to break. We have already had the tail light break off twice, and have only had this item since Christmas. Be prepared with superglue if you buy this item, since you will definitely have to make repairs to it.
My toddler adores this bike. He even rides it instead when the weather is poor. But it's not the best of toys from a parent's perspective. While cool, it requires care and keeping a sharp eye on the rider for unexpected falls.
This replica is for the 2-6 range, but not to exceed 60 pounds. Weighs about 20 pounds.
If you grew up in the 80s or 90s you'll probably think of this little vehicle as a Power Wheels. Technically, it's not the same brand, but the concept is the same.
This is the perfect little ride-on for the toddler that is too young to ride a bike.
Flat surfaces are a must: It goes 1.6 miles per hour, which seems fast, but it much slower than walking pace. There are no brakes, so keep that in mind. It stops when the child takes his foot off of the "gas" pedal. It has zero chance of making up a slight hill, but does present a minor hazard when attempting to go downhill without brakes.
Despite the "training wheels" the bike is extremely tippy, especially making tight turns or navigating up a slope at an angle. Helmets are a must. Getting on and off also presents a tipping opportunity, so be sure to help your child on and off.
Unfortunately, all of the cool details on the bike provide ample things to break. We have already had the tail light break off twice, and have only had this item since Christmas. Be prepared with superglue if you buy this item, since you will definitely have to make repairs to it.
My toddler adores this bike. He even rides it instead when the weather is poor. But it's not the best of toys from a parent's perspective. While cool, it requires care and keeping a sharp eye on the rider for unexpected falls.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
July 13, 2013 ~ Our Newest Resident
ASorry to be behind on posting again. I haven't had a busier week yet this year. Hoping to get back to normal.
Anyways, we have a new resident at our house. Well, not so new, but I finally have a picture.
Meet Chuckie:
(Name courtesy of Cub's Dad)
This is right outside our back door. No fear of dog or people. He lives in the bushes behind our house.
Billy wants to pick him up. Um, no...
Friday, July 12, 2013
Drawn In Thursdays #69
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| Click to Enlarge |
A true story from this week, and a good problem to have with a large family and a toddler.
Monday, July 8, 2013
The Sunday Post ~ Dexton Kids Ride-On Mercedes
buy it here (but you can find it elsewhere for MUCH less- I know.)
If you grew up in the 80s or 90s you'll probably think of this little vehicle as a Power Wheels. Technically, it's not the same brand, but the concept is the same.
This is the perfect little car for the toddler that is too young to ride a bike. Due to the size of the vehicle, however, your child will outgrow it before the age of 6, depending on your child's height.
Flat surfaces are a must: It goes 1.6 miles per hour, which seems fast, but it much slower than walking pace. There are no brakes, so keep that in mind. It stops when the child takes his foot off of the "gas" pedal. It has zero chance of making up a slight hill, but does present a minor hazard when attempting to go downhill without brakes.
It's fairly sturdy and when on a flat surface presents a relatively safe driving toy for a toddler.
Lightweight, but a pain to store due to it's size. And just like any car, requires buffing to keep it shiny.
My toddler adores this toy and it was the only thing he wanted from Santa. So far it has been worth the money.
If you grew up in the 80s or 90s you'll probably think of this little vehicle as a Power Wheels. Technically, it's not the same brand, but the concept is the same.
This is the perfect little car for the toddler that is too young to ride a bike. Due to the size of the vehicle, however, your child will outgrow it before the age of 6, depending on your child's height.
Flat surfaces are a must: It goes 1.6 miles per hour, which seems fast, but it much slower than walking pace. There are no brakes, so keep that in mind. It stops when the child takes his foot off of the "gas" pedal. It has zero chance of making up a slight hill, but does present a minor hazard when attempting to go downhill without brakes.
It's fairly sturdy and when on a flat surface presents a relatively safe driving toy for a toddler.
Lightweight, but a pain to store due to it's size. And just like any car, requires buffing to keep it shiny.
My toddler adores this toy and it was the only thing he wanted from Santa. So far it has been worth the money.
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| We decorated it- does not come with American decals. |
Sunday, July 7, 2013
July 5, 2013 ~ Little Lost Glasses
Poor Billy has lost his first coveted item.
A few weeks ago we bought him Spider-Man sunglasses to replace a pair that got broken while camping.
He wore his sunglasses in the Fourth of July parade and lost them at the after activities.
Billy made me drive back to the parade route and search for them. I'm sure some kid picked them up and is enjoying them. Meanwhile a toddler is lamenting their loss.
He keeps asking me to find them. Off to Amazon to hunt down a matching pair.
July 4, 2013
I'm not going to title this post. The date is the title.
Billy started his holiday by decorating his little red race car. I wasn't sure if we would actually put him in the parade, but at least we could be ready for it. We decorated it with stars and flag stickers that I made. He was very excited to decorate the car.
"Do you want to be in the parade?"
"Yes. What's a parade?"
The parade is a collection of kids on bikes, golf carts and old cars all decorated for the Fourth.
It was a scorcher. So I had Billy wait in the shade a the top of the hill and join the parade half way along the route. The car is so slow I didn't think it would make it up the hill.
Well, he stole the show. He waved like the Queen of England at the onlookers. I tried to get him to pull over to watch the rest of the parade, but parading was serious business to him. He kept going past the route and I had to get him to stop and join the post parade festivities.
There were Popsicles and turtle races and tug of war. He was very intent on all of the activities, which happened to take place during nap time. Consequently, he was asleep before we got home.
As tradition goes, after nap it was off to a cookout. That was followed by a boat ride to watch fireworks. Although to be honest, he was bored with the boat because he couldn't run around.
Happy Fourth of July!
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
July 2, 2013 ~ The Little Fisherman
I grew up around water. I mean REALLY grew up around water. I could fish, crab, swim and sail and handle a power boat long before I could ever drive a car. It's second nature to me.
Billy's turn.
Only, this time around, I have to wonder...
Daddy just bought him is very own fishing rod. Now, when I say fishing rod, I mean it looks like a fishing rod, but really it's a toy. No hook (there's a rubber fish in lieu of a hook) and a push button release for the line. It reels in the same way. Oh, and it's a Mickey Mouse fishing rod. All of maybe 3 feet long.
Granted, I'd never give a fishing rod with a hook on it to a 2 year old without serious supervision... aka me holding the rod and letting him help me reel it in. I'd never let him cast it.
But when I was little, I learned with a real rod with a real hook on it. We baited the line and I wasn't allowed to cast, just to drop it into the water. Casting came later when I was older. I have no idea how old I was when I learned to fish. Not very old, since my hatred of fishing goes way back. (Sitting in the sweltering sun waiting to catch a tiny fish you can't eat is not all that appealing. Little different now that I'm older... bigger fish and beer.)
I'm wondering how this will play out with Billy learning to fish on a rod that is hookless. Daddy is already teaching him to cast. They were fishing in the back yard last night. I'm wondering if it will make him (and us) blase to the real dangers with fishing. Hooks are sharp. I've seen plenty of people stab themselves with one. Nasty things, hooks.
Just another thing to add to the list of uber-safety for the little ones. Not sure if it's better than when I was growing up. I made it out alright. I guess we'll find out in 30 years.
Billy's turn.
Only, this time around, I have to wonder...
Daddy just bought him is very own fishing rod. Now, when I say fishing rod, I mean it looks like a fishing rod, but really it's a toy. No hook (there's a rubber fish in lieu of a hook) and a push button release for the line. It reels in the same way. Oh, and it's a Mickey Mouse fishing rod. All of maybe 3 feet long.
Granted, I'd never give a fishing rod with a hook on it to a 2 year old without serious supervision... aka me holding the rod and letting him help me reel it in. I'd never let him cast it.
But when I was little, I learned with a real rod with a real hook on it. We baited the line and I wasn't allowed to cast, just to drop it into the water. Casting came later when I was older. I have no idea how old I was when I learned to fish. Not very old, since my hatred of fishing goes way back. (Sitting in the sweltering sun waiting to catch a tiny fish you can't eat is not all that appealing. Little different now that I'm older... bigger fish and beer.)
I'm wondering how this will play out with Billy learning to fish on a rod that is hookless. Daddy is already teaching him to cast. They were fishing in the back yard last night. I'm wondering if it will make him (and us) blase to the real dangers with fishing. Hooks are sharp. I've seen plenty of people stab themselves with one. Nasty things, hooks.
Just another thing to add to the list of uber-safety for the little ones. Not sure if it's better than when I was growing up. I made it out alright. I guess we'll find out in 30 years.
Monday, July 1, 2013
June 30, 2013 ~ The Special Stick
You would think with all of the wonderful toys out there that Billy would prefer one of those. Nope. He wants a stick.
Not just any stick.
This stick is a piece of driftwood he found along the river. It's his special stick. (Yes, yes. Laugh now. Minds out of the gutter, folks.)
Billy was playing with 3 other boys of varying ages and insisted on carrying his Stick with him everywhere they went. Swimming? Had to bring Stick. Fishing? He used it as his fishing pole- and didn't catch anything. Playing around the house? You betcha that Stick was there. Eating? Stick was nearby.
2 days. 1 Stick.
And so as the boys were getting ready to leave, the dad was cleaning and chucked Stick into the river. Oh. My. God. In slow motion the adults in the know screamed "Nooooo!" There went Stick floating down the river.
This required a Stick rescue effort. Spotters on shore watching Stick drift away. (Did you know driftwood drifts slower than new wood?) The dad down on the dock prepping himself for a Stick retrieval. Luckily, Stick was saved from the perils of the lazy river and was completely fine except for getting wet.
When the boys left it was time for Billy to head off for a nap. On the way down the hallway he was swinging Stick and...
"Snap!"
Oh. My. God. A broken Stick! All that for a rescue only to have Stick perish in a hallway??? We had to whisk Stick off to the the Emergency Room of Wood Repair (aka the kitchen) and surgically reattach the broken end. It's only temporary, though. Stick will require another surgery to permanently reattach his severed limb.
We'll keep you updated on Stick's progress.
Not just any stick.
This stick is a piece of driftwood he found along the river. It's his special stick. (Yes, yes. Laugh now. Minds out of the gutter, folks.)
Billy was playing with 3 other boys of varying ages and insisted on carrying his Stick with him everywhere they went. Swimming? Had to bring Stick. Fishing? He used it as his fishing pole- and didn't catch anything. Playing around the house? You betcha that Stick was there. Eating? Stick was nearby.
2 days. 1 Stick.
And so as the boys were getting ready to leave, the dad was cleaning and chucked Stick into the river. Oh. My. God. In slow motion the adults in the know screamed "Nooooo!" There went Stick floating down the river.
This required a Stick rescue effort. Spotters on shore watching Stick drift away. (Did you know driftwood drifts slower than new wood?) The dad down on the dock prepping himself for a Stick retrieval. Luckily, Stick was saved from the perils of the lazy river and was completely fine except for getting wet.
When the boys left it was time for Billy to head off for a nap. On the way down the hallway he was swinging Stick and...
"Snap!"
Oh. My. God. A broken Stick! All that for a rescue only to have Stick perish in a hallway??? We had to whisk Stick off to the the Emergency Room of Wood Repair (aka the kitchen) and surgically reattach the broken end. It's only temporary, though. Stick will require another surgery to permanently reattach his severed limb.
We'll keep you updated on Stick's progress.
Friday, June 28, 2013
June 27, 2013 ~ How Many Trips to the Potty???
(This is a tale of toddlers and bodily functions. If you are easily offended, turn back now. Do not go this way. Stop reading now!)
Billy and I sat down to the table at a nice restaurant with PeePop. Just as the hostess handed us our menus, Billy declared, "I gotta go potty!"
I whisked him off to the potty to do his business. Mission accomplished.
We head back to the table. PeePop already has a drink. The waiter circles around so I place drink orders and Billy's food order.
"Mommy, I gotta POOP!" He says this last word with extra vigor and start bouncing up and down in his chair in a manner which can only be called 'the poop dance."
Off to the potty we go. Mission NOT accomplished. "Mommy, is that a window? What's this? What's that? Who's in there (the other stall)? Why are they in there? Do you need to potty? Do I need to potty? I don't need to potty."
Back to the table. By this time PeePop is eating salad and bread sticks. And no, we weren't at Olive Garden.
I get two minutes to read the menu while Billy restarts the Poop Dance and the whining. I wait for the waiter so I can order and then head back to the bathroom.
"Last chance until after dinner. Poop or else!"
Again, mission NOT accomplished. Now I can't tell if he's bored, constipated or really does need to poop.
We go back to the table and he started to tell me about the pain in his butt. He says he's not hungry while he shovels fistfuls of chicken tender into his mouth, complaining all the while about the poopy pain in his butt.
I threaten loss of dessert, loss of toys if he's faking, but what can I do? Back to the potty we go. And another failure. Strike three.
"Ok, you have to hold it until we get home. Mommy wants to eat her dinner."
By now PeePop has eaten salad, soup and half of his dinner. I have had salad and a bite of dinner. And I have an idea. I give him an olive (owl lip as Billy calls them). He hates olives. Never mind that.
"See this? It looks an awful lot like a prune, doesn't it? Do you know the olives are also poop fruit? (okay, stretching, but go with me). If you eat it, that poop will fly right out of your butt!"
"Really?" He gobbled it up. "I love owl lips!" Unfortunately, there were none left except that one, but I was hoping that the mental trick would take.
And, of course, he wanted to go back to the potty. So back we went and again nothing. Okay, seriously this time is the last time. I swear. No more until we get home.
We get back to the table and he starts the Poop Dance again. I seriously would love to, I don't know, actually get to eat my dinner to more than two minutes at a time. No, no potty. 4 trips of nada. N.O. NO.
He gives me a red faced look and says "I'm POOOOOPING!!!!!!"
Seriously? I mean, really? Here? At the table? Now?
I do what any parent of a toddler would do... the reach around. Yep. Grab the bum and feel for that extra lump which is not a cute little toddler cheek. Three lumps. Damn. One too many.
Back to the potty we go to deal with the carnage.
By now PeePop has asked the waiter to bring me a box. He's with the program here. I'm ready to go home. Check please.
Billy and I sat down to the table at a nice restaurant with PeePop. Just as the hostess handed us our menus, Billy declared, "I gotta go potty!"
I whisked him off to the potty to do his business. Mission accomplished.
We head back to the table. PeePop already has a drink. The waiter circles around so I place drink orders and Billy's food order.
"Mommy, I gotta POOP!" He says this last word with extra vigor and start bouncing up and down in his chair in a manner which can only be called 'the poop dance."
Off to the potty we go. Mission NOT accomplished. "Mommy, is that a window? What's this? What's that? Who's in there (the other stall)? Why are they in there? Do you need to potty? Do I need to potty? I don't need to potty."
Back to the table. By this time PeePop is eating salad and bread sticks. And no, we weren't at Olive Garden.
I get two minutes to read the menu while Billy restarts the Poop Dance and the whining. I wait for the waiter so I can order and then head back to the bathroom.
"Last chance until after dinner. Poop or else!"
Again, mission NOT accomplished. Now I can't tell if he's bored, constipated or really does need to poop.
We go back to the table and he started to tell me about the pain in his butt. He says he's not hungry while he shovels fistfuls of chicken tender into his mouth, complaining all the while about the poopy pain in his butt.
I threaten loss of dessert, loss of toys if he's faking, but what can I do? Back to the potty we go. And another failure. Strike three.
"Ok, you have to hold it until we get home. Mommy wants to eat her dinner."
By now PeePop has eaten salad, soup and half of his dinner. I have had salad and a bite of dinner. And I have an idea. I give him an olive (owl lip as Billy calls them). He hates olives. Never mind that.
"See this? It looks an awful lot like a prune, doesn't it? Do you know the olives are also poop fruit? (okay, stretching, but go with me). If you eat it, that poop will fly right out of your butt!"
"Really?" He gobbled it up. "I love owl lips!" Unfortunately, there were none left except that one, but I was hoping that the mental trick would take.
And, of course, he wanted to go back to the potty. So back we went and again nothing. Okay, seriously this time is the last time. I swear. No more until we get home.
We get back to the table and he starts the Poop Dance again. I seriously would love to, I don't know, actually get to eat my dinner to more than two minutes at a time. No, no potty. 4 trips of nada. N.O. NO.
He gives me a red faced look and says "I'm POOOOOPING!!!!!!"
Seriously? I mean, really? Here? At the table? Now?
I do what any parent of a toddler would do... the reach around. Yep. Grab the bum and feel for that extra lump which is not a cute little toddler cheek. Three lumps. Damn. One too many.
Back to the potty we go to deal with the carnage.
By now PeePop has asked the waiter to bring me a box. He's with the program here. I'm ready to go home. Check please.
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
So behind...
I am busier than ever with life, work and toddler.
With my mobile device refusing to post to Blogger it's making it difficult for me to stay on top of posts. Daddy is in constant use of the main computer at home for school work, making my ability to post at home all but impossible. My laptop was once owned by a Roman, who got it from a T-Rex, so there's not much hope there.
I do promise to try to get back to regular posting.
Here's some highlights of what you missed:
~ Billy is refusing to sleep. Welcome to the Terrible Threes. Just like the Twos, only that much worse. We're pushing back his bedtime a bit to help him sleep.
~ We've instituted a positive rewards system. After some epic battles of will, we're finally getting him to do what he's told when there's a golden prize at the end. That would be gummi bears. Haribo Gold-Bears to be exact. And he will do anything to win another. So far so good.
~ Billy and Cub went to the pool together. They had a fabulous time. Billy showed off his ability to go under water a bazillion times without any issue. Show off. My heart stops every time he does it.
And that's about it. We've had a slow week to report, even though I was very busy. But with being sick last week and playing catch up this week, that's how it goes.
With my mobile device refusing to post to Blogger it's making it difficult for me to stay on top of posts. Daddy is in constant use of the main computer at home for school work, making my ability to post at home all but impossible. My laptop was once owned by a Roman, who got it from a T-Rex, so there's not much hope there.
I do promise to try to get back to regular posting.
Here's some highlights of what you missed:
~ Billy is refusing to sleep. Welcome to the Terrible Threes. Just like the Twos, only that much worse. We're pushing back his bedtime a bit to help him sleep.
~ We've instituted a positive rewards system. After some epic battles of will, we're finally getting him to do what he's told when there's a golden prize at the end. That would be gummi bears. Haribo Gold-Bears to be exact. And he will do anything to win another. So far so good.
~ Billy and Cub went to the pool together. They had a fabulous time. Billy showed off his ability to go under water a bazillion times without any issue. Show off. My heart stops every time he does it.
And that's about it. We've had a slow week to report, even though I was very busy. But with being sick last week and playing catch up this week, that's how it goes.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
June 18, 2013 ~ Conversations With an Angry Toddler
Billy was extra mad today about just about everything.
Conversations with an angry toddler:
Billy: I don't want to get in the car. I want to throw your keys in the grass. I want to throw your keys in the trees. Mommy, give me your keys so I can throw them away!
Me: Why won't you get in the car?
Billy: it's a monster car. It's yucky!
Billy: I don't want to go to our house. It's a monster house. Monsters live in that house. That's why I don't want to go there. Spiders live there. Yucky. And a mean old witch. We can't go to our house.
Billy: I am a monster. I'm mean. That's why I have sharp teeth. I'm a mean puppy dog.
Billy: I'm going to hit you. I want to hit Daddy but he's too far away.
Me: Because he's a work?
Billy: Yes, he's too far.
So Annoyed...
I've been publishing from my phone, but my phone apparently tells me it's sending then doesn't bother to send... so there's a week of posts missing that I can't get off my phone. And like hell I'm going to retype everything.
1.) Happy Birthday, Grandma!
2.) Silly glasses... trying on pairs to find a new pair at the store...
He was in such a bad mood that he started screaming about the kids glasses. He DIDN'T want the blue Spiderman glasses that I bought him. Nope. He asked me to give them to other people, stomp on them, throw them in the parking lot...whatever. But when we got home he was so proud of them that he wore them through dinner and then went to bed with them on. He loves them now.
3.) Happy Father's Day to Daddy:
I asked Billy what he wanted to get Daddy for Father's Day (this is what Billy thought Daddy wanted, not what Daddy asked for...) Billy replied, "a ship of hot blondes."
We actually got him vegetables for his garden.
4.) Billy has had the stomach flu plus a fever for a few days. He was home. I was home. He was a cranky pants and spent most of the time laying on the sofa begging for cuddles and watching every Disney movie we own.
He's back at daycare now that the fever has passed. He's still a cranky pants, but I think that's more from wanting me to stay home with him than from him actually being ill.
And no more mobile posts!
1.) Happy Birthday, Grandma!
2.) Silly glasses... trying on pairs to find a new pair at the store...
He was in such a bad mood that he started screaming about the kids glasses. He DIDN'T want the blue Spiderman glasses that I bought him. Nope. He asked me to give them to other people, stomp on them, throw them in the parking lot...whatever. But when we got home he was so proud of them that he wore them through dinner and then went to bed with them on. He loves them now.
3.) Happy Father's Day to Daddy:
I asked Billy what he wanted to get Daddy for Father's Day (this is what Billy thought Daddy wanted, not what Daddy asked for...) Billy replied, "a ship of hot blondes."
We actually got him vegetables for his garden.
4.) Billy has had the stomach flu plus a fever for a few days. He was home. I was home. He was a cranky pants and spent most of the time laying on the sofa begging for cuddles and watching every Disney movie we own.
He's back at daycare now that the fever has passed. He's still a cranky pants, but I think that's more from wanting me to stay home with him than from him actually being ill.
And no more mobile posts!
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
June 10, 2013 ~ Tomato Storms
Last Thursday I was watching the Discovery Channel when Billy wandered into the TV room. It was well past his bedtime, but we've been having issues getting him to go to sleep. He goes to bed and hangs out for awhile, then gets bored and gets up to wander around. Sometimes outside. Sometimes downstairs. I have a few gray hairs from his wanderings.
Anyway, seeing that there was no chance of him immediately going back to sleep, I allowed him to watch the last 10 minutes of Mythbusters with me. At least it was science, right?
As soon as the show was over there was footage of that terrible tornado the week before with pictures of the storm chasers that were killed. I am actually a huge fan of Storm Chasers the show. When Team Twistex was killed it was very upsetting to me, not that I know them personally. My attention, was therefore immediately drawn and I erred in not turning off the TV as soon as the programming changed.
Billy got to see that same tornado from last week pick up two cars and chuck them down the road and then pick up a house, reminiscent of the Wizard of Oz. He was hooked.
I changed the channel but he begged, "Mommy put the tomato storm back on!" I sent him off to bed instead.
The next morning he went downstairs (an unusual thing) to fetch his movies. He was digging through them, "Mommy, where's the tomato movie?"
"Why?"
"I want to take the tomato movie to school to show my friends!"
Since then I've been hearing a lot about tomatoes. No matter how many times I correct him, he continues to call them tomatoes.
Yesterday our region was treated to a rare outbreak of tornadoes. It's not that we don't get them. We get a lot of watches and warnings, but not like in Tornado Alley. However, before I even left work there had been documented funnel clouds.
I have on my iPhone the Weather Channel App. Everyone should have this app. It beeps with the same sound as the Emergency Alert System and it's loud. It kept going off, since our house was directly in the path of the storm.
I decided to put the local weather on while we sat in our "safe spot". I can see the tv from there. Billy was THRILLED. "More tomatoes, Mommy!"
Luckily, we just got heavy rain and a few thunder rumbles. When the local stations stopped showing round the clock coverage he was so sad. "But Mommy, I want more tomato show!"
Yep. He's obsessed. Here's to no more tomatoes. He'll just have to be disappointed.
Anyway, seeing that there was no chance of him immediately going back to sleep, I allowed him to watch the last 10 minutes of Mythbusters with me. At least it was science, right?
As soon as the show was over there was footage of that terrible tornado the week before with pictures of the storm chasers that were killed. I am actually a huge fan of Storm Chasers the show. When Team Twistex was killed it was very upsetting to me, not that I know them personally. My attention, was therefore immediately drawn and I erred in not turning off the TV as soon as the programming changed.
Billy got to see that same tornado from last week pick up two cars and chuck them down the road and then pick up a house, reminiscent of the Wizard of Oz. He was hooked.
I changed the channel but he begged, "Mommy put the tomato storm back on!" I sent him off to bed instead.
The next morning he went downstairs (an unusual thing) to fetch his movies. He was digging through them, "Mommy, where's the tomato movie?"
"Why?"
"I want to take the tomato movie to school to show my friends!"
Since then I've been hearing a lot about tomatoes. No matter how many times I correct him, he continues to call them tomatoes.
Yesterday our region was treated to a rare outbreak of tornadoes. It's not that we don't get them. We get a lot of watches and warnings, but not like in Tornado Alley. However, before I even left work there had been documented funnel clouds.
I have on my iPhone the Weather Channel App. Everyone should have this app. It beeps with the same sound as the Emergency Alert System and it's loud. It kept going off, since our house was directly in the path of the storm.
I decided to put the local weather on while we sat in our "safe spot". I can see the tv from there. Billy was THRILLED. "More tomatoes, Mommy!"
Luckily, we just got heavy rain and a few thunder rumbles. When the local stations stopped showing round the clock coverage he was so sad. "But Mommy, I want more tomato show!"
Yep. He's obsessed. Here's to no more tomatoes. He'll just have to be disappointed.
Sunday, June 9, 2013
The Sunday Post ~ The Little Boy With Wings
It was somewhere around the time that my son declared his favorite color to be pink that I started thinking about the inequities between girls and boys.
For the longest time I have always considered that girls had the short end of the straw, and certainly as adults that may occasionally be the case. But our world is ever more gender neutral. And I started thinking about all of the things I could do as a child that my son is not supposed to do.
There were days that I was the girly girl with pink dresses and dolls and tea parties full of lace. And then I would cast those off for blue shorts and soccer balls and riding bikes. Anything a boy could do I could do too. There were no limits.
So, with my two year old son in love with pink, I dragged him off to the clothing store to buy him some clothes. But there was no pink to be found. Not for boys anyway. The girls section is like a rainbow with every color you could imagine. Want to dress your little girl in navy blue or brown? They have it. Orange, red, teal, green? Not a problem.
But try to find a nice polo shirt in pink that's not dripping in bows and frills. The boys colors- even for the little ones- are blues and greens and browns or orange. Often darker, muted colors. He's immediately attracted to the vibrant pastels and bright jewel tones offered to the girls. And with a look of disappointment I have to point him away from those to the limited boys section, half the size of the girls' offerings.
And then there are shoes. Girls can wear shiny shoes, glitter shoes, every color shoe. And he wants to know why he can't have glitter shoes. Why all of his shoes are blue or black or brown. And I have to tell him, "because you're a boy."
He sees me painting my nails and doing my makeup and he wants to do it too. I have to tell him, "you can't, because you're a boy." But then I stop myself.
Why?
He's not trying to be a girl. He's only two. He has no concept of gender. He's seeing me be "creative." I'm painting. Yes, sure I'm painting my nails. And I'm painting color onto my face. This isn't about looking like a girl to him. This is about creativity and having fun. It would be the same as if I were putting a sticker on my shirt. Of course, he would want to as well.
In the airport one day he asked if I would put his hair up in a ponytail. He has a boy cut, so the best I could accomplish was a top knot. I was shocked at how many people complimented me on my little girl. My "girl" dressed in boy colors in a polo and shorts and rugged shoes. But despite every other indication that he was a boy, everyone assumed by a navy blue hair tie that this must be a girl. Even a gay couple assumed he was a girl, proving that even those that break the social "norm" of male are still biased by it.
And I have to wonder if I'm harming my little boy by allowing him to venture into the realm of things that are girl?
But how can I stop him?
He wants to play with girl toys. Sure, he loves to play with balls and cars and sticks. But equally he wants to play with ponies and fairies and play dress up. When did ponies become a girl only toy? Certainly My Little Ponies are plastered in pink, but he loves pink. And he thinks horses are cool. He wants to play with them. He wants to dress up like a princess one day and a fireman the next. And I have to stop myself from telling him to "stop playing like a girl."
Why shouldn't he want to play with ponies or fairies? Why must he be relegated to playing cops and robbers or pirates? These are violent things that he's not into right now. Why should I force it?
And so, after watching a Tinker Bell movie with boy and girl fairies in it, he wanted to have a pair of fairy wings. My husband scoffed at the idea. "Those are for girls." I had a pair of my own tucked away in the attic, so I fetched them for my son. He immediately put them on and wore them all day. He was so proud of himself.
And I realized this is not about girl vs. boy. It's not a gender issue. I still teach him the social "norm" but I'm not going to hinder his play. This is about a little boy wanting to express his creativity and his imagination. I want to give him this freedom. So I gave him wings.
For the longest time I have always considered that girls had the short end of the straw, and certainly as adults that may occasionally be the case. But our world is ever more gender neutral. And I started thinking about all of the things I could do as a child that my son is not supposed to do.
There were days that I was the girly girl with pink dresses and dolls and tea parties full of lace. And then I would cast those off for blue shorts and soccer balls and riding bikes. Anything a boy could do I could do too. There were no limits.
So, with my two year old son in love with pink, I dragged him off to the clothing store to buy him some clothes. But there was no pink to be found. Not for boys anyway. The girls section is like a rainbow with every color you could imagine. Want to dress your little girl in navy blue or brown? They have it. Orange, red, teal, green? Not a problem.
But try to find a nice polo shirt in pink that's not dripping in bows and frills. The boys colors- even for the little ones- are blues and greens and browns or orange. Often darker, muted colors. He's immediately attracted to the vibrant pastels and bright jewel tones offered to the girls. And with a look of disappointment I have to point him away from those to the limited boys section, half the size of the girls' offerings.
And then there are shoes. Girls can wear shiny shoes, glitter shoes, every color shoe. And he wants to know why he can't have glitter shoes. Why all of his shoes are blue or black or brown. And I have to tell him, "because you're a boy."
He sees me painting my nails and doing my makeup and he wants to do it too. I have to tell him, "you can't, because you're a boy." But then I stop myself.
Why?
He's not trying to be a girl. He's only two. He has no concept of gender. He's seeing me be "creative." I'm painting. Yes, sure I'm painting my nails. And I'm painting color onto my face. This isn't about looking like a girl to him. This is about creativity and having fun. It would be the same as if I were putting a sticker on my shirt. Of course, he would want to as well.
In the airport one day he asked if I would put his hair up in a ponytail. He has a boy cut, so the best I could accomplish was a top knot. I was shocked at how many people complimented me on my little girl. My "girl" dressed in boy colors in a polo and shorts and rugged shoes. But despite every other indication that he was a boy, everyone assumed by a navy blue hair tie that this must be a girl. Even a gay couple assumed he was a girl, proving that even those that break the social "norm" of male are still biased by it.
And I have to wonder if I'm harming my little boy by allowing him to venture into the realm of things that are girl?
But how can I stop him?
He wants to play with girl toys. Sure, he loves to play with balls and cars and sticks. But equally he wants to play with ponies and fairies and play dress up. When did ponies become a girl only toy? Certainly My Little Ponies are plastered in pink, but he loves pink. And he thinks horses are cool. He wants to play with them. He wants to dress up like a princess one day and a fireman the next. And I have to stop myself from telling him to "stop playing like a girl."
Why shouldn't he want to play with ponies or fairies? Why must he be relegated to playing cops and robbers or pirates? These are violent things that he's not into right now. Why should I force it?
And so, after watching a Tinker Bell movie with boy and girl fairies in it, he wanted to have a pair of fairy wings. My husband scoffed at the idea. "Those are for girls." I had a pair of my own tucked away in the attic, so I fetched them for my son. He immediately put them on and wore them all day. He was so proud of himself.
And I realized this is not about girl vs. boy. It's not a gender issue. I still teach him the social "norm" but I'm not going to hinder his play. This is about a little boy wanting to express his creativity and his imagination. I want to give him this freedom. So I gave him wings.
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