Semantics

Catherine: Can Grandma come over right now?
Mom:  No, she can't.
Catherine:  Why?
Mom:  Because she is coming this evening to babysit you and Chase while Mommy and Daddy go out to eat.
Catherine:  Chase and I aren't really babies anymore.  You should say she is coming to kidsit instead.

I really, truly love conversation with three year old kids. 

Face Painting Fun

On our recent trip up north to visit my parents, my dad and his wife took us to the Newport Aquarium where we had a blast and had many firsts.

We saw piranhas for the first time.  They were not a big hit.

We saw penguins for the first time.  They were a big hit.

We saw jelly fish.  Oh my, they were a huge hit.

 


Catherine  had her face painted for the first time.  Enormous hit.  Can you guess what she chose?

A butterfly. 

Since returning home this week, the request for face paint has been incessant.  Since I am prone to give in to badgering, okay, since it is super fun, we went to the craft store and acquired some face paint.  I got to try my hand at recreating the butterfly, and voilà!

Note the butterfly shirt is a necessity, also.

Please excuse us if it is weeks before our daughter is seen again without a butterfly painted face.

Sibling Companionship

For weeks now Catherine has been begging us to let Chase sleep in her room.  It has been a request denied over and over, since little brother still habitually wakes up around 11:00 p.m. every night for a good five minute scream.  Yesterday while I was dressing, Chase was hanging out in his crib and Catherine played in his room.  There was much giggling that rapidly increased in volume and when I went to the room I discovered the source of all the laughter:  Catherine had climbed in his crib.

Since then the request for Chase to sleep in her room has been nonstop.  Badgering might be the best word to describe it.  So this evening we decided to give it a try.  The excitement was high, bed time stories were read, children were tucked in, and then the crying began.  First it was Chase, then it was Catherine.  Oh well, it was worth a try.  Perhaps if the request is made again, we'll give a shot in a few months.  Until then, separate rooms for a good night sleep.

Or as good of a nights sleep as one can get when one sleeps in these positions. 

Why Don't My Kids Listen to Me?

Why don't my kids listen to me?


This is the question.

This is what all parents want to know. 

Undoubtedly a psychiatrist has answered this in a parenting book somewhere;  however, I am not a psychiatrist, and parenting books make me crazy.  Over the past two weeks there has been a series of events that have brought this question to mind, and I would like to share my thoughts.

To begin, take a look at this photo of my son.

 

What exactly is he doing?

After finishing a set of push ups, while my daughter counted for me, I looked up to see this.  Why, he was doing push ups, too!  When we acknowledged what he was doing, he was so proud.  For the rest of the afternoon he would do this anytime he wanted our attention, then proceed to march round the house clapping.

A few days later, during a chaotic moment, when my hands were full and trying to get out the door to the grocery store, I kept calling for my kids to come get in the car.  It felt like it was taking them forever, and frustration was budding.  After the second time of calling them with no cooperation, I went to physically round them up, to find they were both in my bedroom closet trying to get their purses ready (packed with juice boxes and toys) for the trip.  The frustration vanished, and we had a very merry shopping trip.

Lastly, while tucking my daughter into bed one evening, I asked her which story she would like to hear. 

"Cat Skidoo!"  she replied excitedly. 

"Well where is it?" I asked, because it was not on the bookshelf.

"Right there on my night table.  Just like your favorite book," she answered with an unusually large grin.

Sure enough there it was.  And indeed, it was just like my favorite book, which was sitting on my night table, down to the elastic book mark.  She had improvised with a headband.

So, back to the original question.

Why don't my kids listen to me?

They are simply too busy watching.

A Wagon Ride

 

Today, despite the chilly temperature, we went for a wagon ride.  It has been a week of runny noses, coughs, fevers and all other sort of illness uglies.  The kids were feeling better, the house was scrubbed from top to bottom, and  we were all about to rip each other to shreds when mom had an idea:  a wagon ride.  All bundled up with blankets and lollipops to boot.  It was the perfect solution to the end of a week long of sickness.  The ride was filled with the silliest game of I Spy that has been played to date, songs, and much giggling.

While writing this post  I realized there were so many physical representations of love in the above photo, I couldn't help myself from pointing them out.

We are so fortunate to have so many wonderful friends and family.

A Major Breakthrough

I am a stay at home mom. Because of this my family benefits in many ways, one of which is the lack of day-care-facilitated-illness. In our daughters three and a half years of life she has gone to the doctor three times for sick visits.

Let me say that again three sick visits.

Perhaps it is the irregularity of the visits, perhaps it is the memory of vaccination, or what ever other speculation may apply, she hates going to the doctor. It started when we went for her two year wellness visit. At the time I was quite pregnant, and thrilled that she was finally able to walk on her own. While waiting for our turn, we happily played with puzzles and read a few books. The nurse called her name and she proudly walked to the exam room on her own. Then she was asked to take off her clothes.

A perfectly reasonable request.

Well perhaps reasonable if you are not two.

Little did I know that one simple request would open the door for new and unimaginable levels of embarrassment and frustration for me as a mother.

"Catherine please take off your clothes," I said.

"No. I don't want."

"You must take off your clothes so the doctor can check your body."

"No!"

"It's okay. She can leave on her clothes. Lets see how much she weighs, " said the nurse symatheticly as she walked over to the scale.

"I don't want to! I want to go home!" yelled Catherine much louder this time.

"You get to stand on the big girl scale. Just like at home." I was beginning to panic.

"No! Get me out of here! I want to go home!"

Maximum volume had been achieved. For sure my mother in Kentucky was able to hear her.

"Please, Catherine. All you have to do is stand on the scale." Now I was beginning to beg.

"It's okay, Catherine," said the nurse.

Wrong answer. Well meaning people do this to us all the time. Say something meant to be comforting when I have clearly lost control of my child; however, it always plays out the same way. Tears. Huge, crocodile tears, with screaming. Not even words, just screaming.

She began running down the hall towards the exit.

"Get me out of here! I want to leave! I want to go home!"

"Catherine stop this right now!" I was screaming, too. And at a loss.

Let me take a minute to say, this was not the first public tantrum I have been exposed to as a mother. I am a well seasoned veteran. I have a system for such behavior. A good system that gets me back in control. A good system that works. We stop what we are doing immediately, leave the situation until she is calm and cooperative, then return to do what we set out to do in the first place. However what she wanted was to leave.

Give me just a minute to decide what to do. Everyone was looking. All the doctors, nurses, even other patients were poking their heads out exam rooms.

She started stomping her feet.

"Get me out of here! Now! Get me out of here now!"

Okay, I'll just stick with my plan. My good plan. The one that always works.

I swooped her up in my arms, and headed for the car. Arms and legs were swinging, tears were rolling, and words were gone, only blood curling screams remained. And I did mention I was in the third trimester of pregnancy, right? She was strapped into her carseat, still screaming, and I was crying too. I called my husband, he reassured me. Finally, fifteen minutes later she was calm. We went back in.

"Please stand on the scale."

It began again. We skipped the weigh in, and I manually restrained her for as much of the exam as possible. Most of what is supposed to be done was skipped.

This is how every visit has been for the past year and a half. The pediatrician has told me more than once that although this behavior is common at this age, our situation is "extreme" and one of control not fear or anxiety. Lucky me.

Then, a few weeks ago, I worked up the courage to schedule her first dentist appointment. We read books, we looked at Dr. John's webpage to see pictures of everyone who works there, and talked to all of her friends who have already been to the dentist. She was excited. When the big day came, there was no hesitation. We happily sat in the waiting room watching the fish tank, playing with toys, and chatting with the receptionist. The hygienist called her name, it was time to go back, and it started, the moment I was dreading. The moment for which I had saved up my courage.

"I don't want to. I want to leave."

I picked her up, at least I'm not pregnant this time, and carried her to the exam room.

"Get me out of here. I want to leave!"

Dr. John came in immediately.

"Is this how it goes at the doctor?" he asks. I had told them about our "situation" on the new patient form.

"Yes."

"I have a suggestion. Why don't you leave Catherine with me and Michelle, and wait in the waiting room."

I've tried everything, and nothing works. This is something new, why not give it a shot. So I went. She screamed, and screamed. I could still hear her as I made my way through to the waiting room. The door closed behind me and all was silent. Fifteen minuets later Michelle came out.

"Mrs. Weddendorf, we're all done."

I went back, and there she sat, my daughter, perfectly calm in the chair. Exam complete. What was the secret? Mom may come back when you decide to calm down, and we complete the full exam without kicking, hitting, or biting. Total cooperation achieved. The rest of the day she talked about nothing but Dr. John and how she loved going to the dentist.

So Monday morning of this week she woke up coughing, sneezing, fever of 101.8, and then she vomited. Indeed she was sick, and going to the doctor a necessity. As I sat in the waiting room, son in tow for he was sick also, I was thinking, plotting, planning. When the nurse called us back, Catherine took my hand.

I said to her, "You can do this, I know you can. "

We walked back, there it was, the dreaded scale.

"Lets see how much you weigh," said the nurse.

"I want to leave." She took a step towards the door.

I knelt down. I looked in her eyes and said, "Calm your self down and cooperate. If you do not, I will have to wait in the waiting room like at Dr. John's office."

She stood on the scale.

She calmly stood on the scale.

She calmly cooperated through the entire exam. She even chatted with the doctor about the name of the tool that looks in your ear (an otoscope) and the artist of the finger paintings on the wall. She left smiling with a sticker for the first time.

A major breakthrough.

Raspberries Anyone?

One morning while we all lazed in bed, Dad taught us how to play the raspberry game on Mom's belly. Now that we got the hang of it, we no longer need Mom to have a good time. On occasion, Chase finds it hilarious to make a kiss noise to Mom, come in for a cheek kiss, and then blow raspberries instead. This is called the bait and switch method of making Mom laugh. For the record, Mom finds this hilarious, too.

Dentist

Last week Catherine went to the dentist for the first time. To be honest, it is unclear who was more nervous, Catherine or Mom. Going to the doctor is always a production in which Catherine is the star of a rather unpleasant scene, so the thought of the dentist was overwhelming. Fortunately the dentist is well rehearsed for such scenes, and had ample patience. Mom waited in the waiting room, and as seen in the photo above, all went much better than expected. She talks about going to the dentist on a daily basis, and even sings the rhyme they taught her while brushing her teeth. The beloved Wall-e toothbrush has been abandoned for the one from the dentist, and there is hope that next time will be less stressful on us both.

Valentine Fun

Yesterday we had a Valentine party with our friends.

We decorated cupcakes.





We made cards.



We had much fun!

Additional photos taken by Kimberlee Edwards.

Happy Valentine's Day.

Bookworms

Lately Catherine and Chase have been playing together in Chase's room unsupervised for short periods of time. Yesterday after a few minutes of silence I poked my head into the room to find them sitting on the bottom shelf of the bookcase, reading a book. It is no longer a mystery why anchoring bookshelves to the wall is suggested.



Once the photo was snapped and the book finished, everything was returned to its proper place.

Quotes from Children

As of late, most sentences that are spoken by Catherine being with the phrase "I want..." It is tiresome have to constantly correct this, and stressful having such a demanding tone ever present. In hopes of keeping our good humor, Bill and I make jokes to each other, that until recently, flew over the head of our eldest child. This morning our first conversation of the day, while lying in bed, went something like this:

Catherine: I want juice.

Bill (to me): From now on Mommy and Daddy are going to ignore all comments that start with "I want."

Mommy giggles.

Catherine: Oh, I need juice.

Yes, the days of speaking as if she doesn't understand us are quite over.

In other, yet similar news, our youngest is talking up a storm. His vocabulary includes words such as phone, bye-bye, da-da, ma-ma, Bast (our cat, and every cat he sees), bath, na-na (music, don't ask), ball, and shoe. He follows directions quite well, when he wants, so we know he understands much of what we say.

Perhaps the most difficult lesson of parent-hood that I am still trying to learn is how to separate adult conversation and not talk about my children as if they don't understand what is being said.

Birthday Boy

It occurred to me as I was making the train post, that a birthday post was never made. Man has this mom been shirking! Chase celebrated his first birthday on November 15th with a low key party at home with his NC family. There were balloons, music, presents and of course, cake. The most notable event of the evening was the striptease the birthday boy preformed
.
The evening started out in an out fit nice enough. Shortly after, it was decided that the shirt had to go. By the time we got to presents there were no pants to be found. Ironically, this box was full of adorable clothes from his grandparents in TN.


Some of the action was caught on film, but the camera (wo)man was too busy laughing to hold the camera proper. More photos can be viewed at our Flickr site.

Trains, Trains, Trains!

On behalf of our children, who are yet unable to type, we would love to thank all who contributed to the train table, or the collective table of happiness, as we call it. There have been several morning cups of coffee enjoyed while still hot, so this is also a gift for parents. The kids pulled their gift cards (many thanks for these, too!) for Wii Sports Resort, and oh my, I'm not sure how long it has been since we have laughed so hard. Catherine is getting really good at some of the games, while Chase dances to the music and affectionately shakes his wiimote at the television. As a matter of fact, he is so attached to the wiimote he insisted on taking it to his crib during nap this afternoon. My mom has been visiting all week, so there should be some awesome, and abundant photos/videos available soon..

Questing

Make believe land is where our home is all day, every day, these days. Today, instead of going to the jungle to fight "the bad guys" , the following quests were given:

Step One: Go into the jungle (our back yard) and recover a lost bucket. Then return to Mommy (in the sunroom) for the reward.

Step Two: Return to the jungle to collect five leaves. Then return to Mommy for the reward.

Step Three: Once more, go into the jungle and collect a fallen tree branch. The return to Mommy for the reward.

Step Four: Go with Mommy to recover construction paper, glue, and crayons. Assemble the tree, and enjoy your art!

What a difference a year makes

One year ago

Today.

We have another walker!

It is official, Chase can walk! Yesterday Catherine, Chase, and Mommy hit the mall to get a pair of Pedipeds to celebrate the occasion. For a few weeks now he has been flirting with the idea of walking, and over the weekend realized that he could indeed just let go to run after his sister. Pictures and videos to come, if one can actually be captured!

Nice Mommy, maybe

After having administered a much needed time out today, I was told, "You're a really nice mommy. But, sometimes you're not."

Guess I must be getting better at my job!

The Origin of Carrots

During dinner this evening, Catherine explained the life cycle of a carrot to us. We were not, however, eating carrots. Her version is as follows:

Dogs live in the ground and you put seeds inside them and they grow into a carrot.

Bill and I have never grown carrots, but we agree that this does not seem to be the accurate life cycle of a carrot.

Alive

Yes we are still alive and doing well. Finding time to blog is difficult these days! There has been some big fun recently, and some big silliness (photo above). Catherine got a new tricycle this week, and we have been bike riding fools. In addition to the bike, Chase is trying his best to crawl. He is so close, and is not at all stationary. Talk about best diet plan ever: two mobile children! Anyway, there are actually new photos posted to the Flickr site of our recent adventures.

Rolling, and eating, and crawling, oh my!

Chase can officially roll both directions, eat baby food (yummo sweet potatoes!), and move forward across the room. Here's to the end of lazy days!