One Month with Baby Hank

Baby Hank turned one month old this week and in these sweet four weeks I have decided that it is amazing that third (or subsequent) children survive.

Newborn Baby Hank

Don't get me wrong, there is a lot of love for a new little baby. Maybe too much love.

On his one week birthday, which happened to be my birthday, my big kids gave me one of the greatest birthday presents ever. I received a card that plays the Chicken Dance song and a rousing performance of said Chicken Dance. Chuck and I were laughing at all those hot dance moves and Susanna said that Baby Hank needed to be with the family. (She is very sweet to include everyone.)

We told her that he was napping and he could join next time. The next thing we knew, she was gone. Chuck said, "I hope she didn't go to get the baby."

Then we heard her sweet little voice announce, "I bwing-ed the baby down!"

Miss Susanna was standing on the landing of our split stairs clutching a swaddled and still-asleep Baby Hank.

We both told her not to move and scared her. She let Chuck take the baby (he said she had a pretty good bear hug on him and we probably didn't have anything to worry about) and went to me crying.

I told her she we loved her and that there were lots of things she could do for Baby Hank, but carrying him was a job for Mommy or Daddy. To her credit, she has not picked him up again.

During that incident, she carried him through the living room and kitchen and down six steps before we saw her. (Another side note, she slid down those same stairs earlier that day. She simply slipped and then slid on her bottom for the last three stairs.)

That was Baby Hank's biggest adventure; however, he has also survived:

1. Brandy licking him every time he comes home. 
2. A two-year-old manually swinging his swing.
3. Being served king-sized portions of pretend food.
4. Almost being served real grapes. 
5. One Royals game (Only two people told me they left their babies at home because they thought it was probably too hot for a baby. First, it was 80 degrees and we spent most of the game, under an awning watching the game on a TV. He was fine. Second, I resisted the urge to tell them, "That's cool, but my baby likes to have fun so here he is. I'm sorry your baby doesn't like fun. That must be sad."
6. Children under five holding him no less than three times a day.
7. Flying balls. Our house is basically like living in a batting cage.
8. A tired, confused, divided mother who puts his diaper on incorrectly on the night.

The last item is the opposite of too much love. And at this point, it's been five years since I've slept "through the night". So I'm not just newborn sleepy, I'm I-haven't-slept-in-years-and-my brain-is-a-permanently-broken sleepy.

And I have other responsibilities, I can't hover over Hank the way I did with Ben. He squeaked! Is he waking up? I better check.

Here is a daily scenario:

Susanna goes to the bathroom to poop.

Hanky starts to stir. 

She hollers, "I'm done!"

Hank starts to cry.

I go in to help Sus wipe.

She says, "I might have a little bit more poop."

I go out because all three-year-olds need privacy when deciding if a bowl movement is complete.

I start to head to Hank who is now wailing.

Ben intercepts me, "I can't find my baseball glove, Mom! I think it's in the van. I'm going to go check."

"No! Don't go check! I'll help you." (The last thing we need is the five-year-old opening the van liftgate into a closed garage door.

Found the glove, back inside. Hank is now crying so hard he's not actually making sounds anymore. 

Susanna announces, "I'm weally done now."

I wipe her bottom. 

We both wash our hands. 

I convince her not to wash her hands again.

And I finally get to to Baby Hank who is beside himself and gasping for air. It's very very sad. 

So I have decided that third children either get way too much love or a totally ignored. And it is surprising that they survive at all. 

Hanky Baby, please forgive me. I love you dearly and am doing the best I can. 

Baby Hank sleeping peacefully in his swing.

Sweet Sister Susanna holding Hanky.

Big Brother Ben talking to Hank while I made lunch!

Enderle Cousins :)

Mom Fail

A friend posted this video on her FB page. (Seriously watch it, because it's so funny.)

It's a Mama cat and her kitten cuddling and sleeping. The kitten gets the sleep shakes and Mama comforts/cuddles her baby back to sleep.

This proves that I totally fail as a mom. When my little ones jump in their sleep, I do one of three things:

1. Point and laugh.
2. Call someone else over to join me in laughing at them.
3. Get the camera so I can laugh at them later.

It turns out common house cats are better mommies than I am.

Humans vs Apes

I went to a Nursing Support Group today (Yes, I realize how lame that sounds, but it's totally necessary and actually fun.) and one new mommy was talking about her colicky baby. Nothing was working for her: nursing, swaddling, the swing...

My heart went out to her as Ben was a super colicky babe. There were nights when all three of us were crying :(

In any case, the lactation consultant suggested "wearing the baby". Put that fussy babe in a sling on your chest and move about your day. Then she said something that got me thinking, "Humans are the only mammals that put their babies away."

I think she was suggesting that lower primates - or even marsupials - have it right constantly carrying their babies. But as I think about it:

1. I don't have a pocket on my belly and
2. Really it's the babies that have super skills, not the mommies.



I don't know about anyone else, but my babies
can't cling to my body hair while I scale a tree.

Susanna is still a helpless little lump and Ben alternates between flailing wildly (No diapy change!) and being dead weight (No nap!). He uses whatever suits his current need.

Susanna being lumpy.

In general, childcare for other mammals seems easier. Bears "deliver" their babies while they're hibernating. Baby bears (weighing less than a pound BTW) basically walk out of their mother's womb and start nursing. Mama bears don't even wake up.

My experience has been, um... different.

1. Although at times I wished I wasn't, I was awake for both deliveries.
2. We'll skip the details, but both times it took an entire team of people to yank my children out of my body.
3. Both Ben and Susanna were confused about nursing. (They are definitely not taking care of business on their own while I sleep). Ben chomped frantically like Pac-Man and Susanna coils and then strikes like a blind snake. Both tactics are as painful as they are counterproductive.

I don't want to feel subpar to an orangutan just because I like to "go to the bathroom by myself" or "need both hands to eat a ham sammich". So, I tried to think of at least one mammal who isn't winning Mom of the Year.

And I found her. In 2005, Brandy had her first and only litter of puppies. She delivered 10 black lab puppies and, in general, was a caring and attentive mom. But she was always anxious to take a break. Whenever we came in the room, she'd get up and leave.

If she was a person, she would have said, "Oh, I'm so glad you're here. Do you mind watching the babies, while I run to the bathroom?" A half hour later you'd find her smoking a cigarette on the back porch.

I can safely say, I'm not sneaking smokes out back so take that other mammals - I win!

How To Ruin Your Baby In One Simple Step

We've only had Susanna for two weeks, and only had her at home for a week and a half, but never fear, we've successfully ruined her.

She was born sleeping through anything. I attribute her chill attitude to her abusive gestation. Seriously, Ben played the snare drum at top volume at my belly every single day. I actually had to wake her up to feed her and even then I'd have to poke her awake, change her diaper or even give her a bath to get her up for any length of time.

But that all changed with one innocent move. And here it is:

Chuck ruining Susanna.

Yes, that's Chuck and baby Susanna sleeping and snuggling on the couch. There is almost nothing better than snuggling a newborn baby. So one evening after I fed Susanna and she was still in-and-out of sleep, I said to Chuck, "Do you want to snuggle her while she falls asleep?"

And that was the beginning of the end. That night, I could not get her back in her bassinet for anything. She'd nurse and nod off. Then I'd lay her down and she'd pop up. I'd start all over and she'd pop up again. At one point I'd been up for two hours and was still failing at getting this baby safely back in her own bed.

For those who don't know, pediatricians suggest having babies sleep on their backs on a firm mattress with only a fitted sheet. No inclines, loose blankets, pillows, stuffed animals or any other comforts that babies (and normal people) like.

So at this point, I'm debating options trying to decide which is the least dangerous:

1. Walk, bounce and possibly drop the baby. I am only 5' 2", but that still a long fall for someone only 19 inches long.
2. I could put her in bed with us. (Both my children LOVE our pillow top mattress - you can literally lay them down wide awake and they will go to sleep on our bed. I have seen both of them fall asleep while I went to get a diaper.) But at this point I'm extra sleepy and don't trust myself not to roll on her. Nor do I trust Chuck, whose name I've been hollering for the last half hour only to be answered by snorts. 
3. I could try to put her in the bouncy chair, which she sometimes sleeps in during the day. The tricky part of this is deciding how to strap her in as she likes to wiggle out. Ben used to sleep in this chair and one extra-foggy morning I panicked because he wasn't in his chair - he was on the floor in front of it. 

See, I am a poor decision maker in the middle of the night and an even worse parent. In the end, I went with the chair and luckily come daybreak (approximately half an hour later) Susanna was still safely strapped in.

In the light of day, I have made her bassinet only moderately dangerous. I put a fluffy blanket in the bottom, but put a tight blanket over the top so it's still smooth, just softer. When she starts rolling, we're going to have to switch to the swing.

Only slightly dangerous sleeping accommodations.

On a side note, I told Ben, "Benny, we ruined your sister and we've only had her a week! Are you ruined?"

Sitting in our bed at approximately 6:22 am, with his legs under the covers and his little hands propping his head up on Chuck's pillow, he said, "Yeah!"

He's probably right.

Here are some shots of our bed at 6:30 this morning. Chuck and I were getting ready for the day and these two were snoozing/watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse happily after sneaking in our bed. They are such pills, but I guess we only have ourselves to blame.

They totally kicked us out of our own bed.

Ben looking happy that he's ruined.



Susanna was sitting up talking with us... for about
2.5 minutes. Then she fell asleep in this super
dangerous position. Don't get used to this sweetheart,
this is how babies die and we're not taking chances.



Learning How To Be A Boy

This seems like something that should be instinctual (tooting/sword fighting/scratching), but apparently it isn't.

I remember reading in Bringing Up Boys by James Dobson that boys identify with a male role model at several developmental stages - the first was as early as 18 months. He said that boys actually have to learn to how be men and that their role model defines masculine behavior for them.

In the last month or two, it seems as though Ben is going through one of these stages. He has really attached himself to Chuck and has kind of become his shadow. If watching Chuck tells Ben what men are supposed to do, then Ben is currently learning that men mow the grass and wash cars.

This spring, Ben has been standing at the window while Chuck mows. He watches him mow the entire yard. I'm talking standing at a window, watching someone walk back and forth, mowing for a solid hour. I would consider this torture, and can't believe this is the same kid who thinks it takes too long to put pants on before going outside to play.

Chuck said I could let Ben outside while he was mowing. (I don't know why I didn't before. Maybe I thought he'd bark and bite at the mower.) Ben was in heaven. He marched proudly right behind Chuck, walking in perfectly straight little lines, going all the way to the fence before turning. Then he got his toy mower and just followed after Dad shouting.


Bean mow! Daddy MOW!

 When we tell him the yard looks nice, he says, "Yeah! Bean mow!"

Chuck is being so sweet and supportive with the birth of our daughter and has taken two weeks off. He's spending a lot of quality time with Ben and trying to get a few little extras done around the house - specifically, giving the cars a thorough cleaning.

Yesterday, he and Ben cleaned his car:

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. The tricky part is knowing when to stop washing. Chuck is very particular about water spots, in fact, you could say that water spots are his arch enemy. So, he towel dries the car after washing it. I watched him feverishly drying the driver's side as Ben "rewashed" the passenger side he'd just dried.

Toddlers need really clear instructions, "Now it's time to dry the car. Here's a towel. You do it." They also need water confiscated.

In any case, it looks like Ben is well on his way to learning the ins-and-outs of being a boy... or at least outdoor chores.

Inappropriate Responses

I love hearing Ben's words and finally knowing what's going on in his mind. However, at two, he's still far from mastering the ins and outs of acceptable conversation.

Every night we have a little family worship. By that, I mean we read one or two scripture verses and pray as a family. By pray as a family, I mean Chuck or I pray while Ben either rolls around like a pig in the mud or plays his snare drum. (Although, sometimes he prays and that basically includes listing his grandparents and my mom's dog.)

To keep him engaged, I ask him to find letters that he recognizes in the scriptures and then read the sentence containing the letter. He likes to pick out: B, I, O, and T.

Tonight, he found a B and I read the first line of Psalm 128, "Blessed is every one that feareth the Lord; that walketh in his ways."

Ben said, "Oh-kay, " as if he didn't believe what he was hearing. It was low, sarcastic, and basically the same way I say okay when he insists on doing something that's going to make a huge mess. It's kind of like, "You're going to carry that full watering can from the kitchen, through our living room and out the front door without spilling it? Oh-kay."

I wanted to say, "No, that's really true. People who fear the Lord really are blessed," but it seems a bit early for that lesson. Thankfully, our Heavenly Father loves children and I'm sure he knows Ben's heart and enjoys these funny little "missteps" as much as we do.

And this is not Ben's only conversational misstep. Here are several examples:

1. Someone sneezes. He also sneezes. No amount of me saying, "Benny, when someone sneezes, we say 'Bless you,'" seems to reach him. He continues to mock those suffering from seasonal allergies.

2. Saying "I love you": Often a grandparent will say, "Ben, I love you." And he'll respond, "Yeah!" It sounds like, "Yeah I know, what else is new?"

3. "Yah, I do." You have to say this the way Arnold Schwarzenegger would say it and Ben says it for everything. He and Evie were playing and I asked them, "Are you guys friends?"

In her little singsong voice, Evie said perfectly, "Ben's my friend." 

Ben shouted, "Yah, I do!"

I really feel like raising a child is sort of like domesticating a raccoon. (Maybe it's just Ben.) I'm going to continue to try to teach Ben appropriate responses. In the mean time, please don't hold his words against me.

Bubble Boy

In order to share this story, I have to admit to my extreme negligence as a parent. Please overlook it.

This evening Chuck was out running emergency errands - purchasing a new grill cover because ours is tattered and it will probably rain tonight. So bath time responsibility feel on me.

I started the water and began to undress and Ben, but realized I was super hot in my long-sleeved shirt and jeans so I went to change. (Just in case anyone missed it, this is the negligent part.)

Ben won't climb in the tub himself so I thought this would be a safe choice even with the water running. And if we were only concerned about drowning, it would have been. Little did I know that Benny had a secret plan and judging by the speed with which he executed it, this was a plan he'd been cooking for a while.

I came back - literally 30 seconds later - to find the bath tub completely pink and the previously half-full Lander's Kids Bubble Bath container essentially empty. This is a 64 ounces container. So, in the time it took me to put on a t-shirt, Ben unscrewed the lid and dumped approximately 30 fluid ounces of Silly Strawberry Bubble Bath into our tub.

Evidence

The extreme bubbles were already forming and within a minute they were cresting the top of the tub. At this point, we only had one choice: celebrate this extravagant bubble bath for the once-in-a-lifetime treasure it was.

I plopped Ben in the tub and we made bubble art:

Bubble Beard (I got one too, but wouldn't let Ben
operate the camera from the tub.)



Bubble Hats



Even a Bubble Mullet.



This was probably the best bath of Ben's life... until we couldn't get the bubbles off. We rinsed and rinsed and rinsed, but only made more bubbles. Finally, I had to take him to the sink and give him what Chuck calls "a whore's bath". He cried.

But I think if he had the chance again (which he won't - bubble bath is now considered toddler contraband), he'd take it.

How to Ruin Your Children

Many moms I know worry about "ruining" their children. They joke about starting a therapy fund and confess fears they probably haven't even shared with their husbands.

As friends, we reassure each other with comments like, "Oh, you're not bossy. You're efficient." or "So what if you're sometimes dramatic, you make life fun. Your kids know you love them and they're happy."

Most of the moms I've had these conversations with love their children fiercely and provide a constant home base of acceptance and security. Even adult children know that Mom's arms and ears are open if needed. These women are far from ruining their kids.

I however, am actually ruining Benjamin and here is the photographic evidence:


Ben being ruined.


That's right, Ben is roller skating... pantless. It's bad enough I let him roller skate every day like this is 1978, but letting him do it without pants is unconscionable. Adding insult to injury, instead of rectifying the situation (I'm totally capable of putting pants on him), I photograph him instead.

He's probably going to end up like this:

Ben's unavoidable future.

Ben decided he loved roller skating at SG's birthday party. He tore up the floor and even made it to the final round of the limbo. (I like to think his height advantage was offset by the fact that it was his first time skating.)

Ben's first time on skates.

He loved it so much, he found a picture of roller skates in a book (a funny Mickey Mouse book from the 80s book my mom gave to me) and said, "Bean keet! Bean keet!" probably 100 times. He'd pull out this book, shove his stockinged foot in my face and beg to skate.

So, one Saturday morning, I sent Ben and Chuck to Toys R Us with $100 in birthday/Christmas money. I gave Chuck a very detailed list of what he was supposed to buy:

1. Roller skates
2. T-ball tee
3. Sippy cups that look exactly like this (sent actual cup)

Chuck asked, "Do you want me to spend all the money?"

I resisted saying, "Please give me one example where I would say, "Chuck, it is imperative that you spend all of this money!"

Instead I respectfully said, "Well, there's no need to try to spend..."

"Ok, we'll spend ALL the money!" Sometimes I don't even know why I bother talking to Chuck, he's clearly not listening.

So off Chuck and Ben went to the toy store. I wish I could have seen them shopping. I imagine it included at least seven full laps of the store, Ben asking for things by picking them up and yelling, "Bean! Bean! Bean!" I also hope Ben called Chuck, "Daddy Chuck" which he sometimes does. I'm sure it took at least and hour and a half and was general chaos.

Then they came home with their loot: skates, a T-ball stand, hockey sticks and binkies... and Ben proceeds to ask to roller skate every moment of every day. At 6:15 in the morning, I get him out of his bed and he says, "Bean keet." When we're driving home, when I'm laying him down for a nap, when he wakes up from his nap. He wouldn't even take his skates off to eat dinner.

He always wants to skate and that's how this picture happened. Every single day, we have lunch and play for about 15 minutes while he poops. I take his pants off to change his diaper and leave them off for his nap. (I always ask and he always says, "Off.") Then he woke up, anxious to skate. Rather than wrestle him into pants, then shoes, then skates, I simply put his shoes and skates on.

And then I realized what I'd done.

Then I laughed at him.

Then I photographed him.

I wish I could say this is my only indiscretion, but it isn't. I am notorious for dressing Ben badly and then laughing at him. You can find evidence here.

So Benjamin, when you're older and reading this thinking, "This explains everything! Mom is the reason I (fill in whatever you'd like to blame on me here)," just know three things.

1. You're probably right. I did ruin you.
2. But I do love you very much.
3. And no, I did not start a therapy fund for you. You're on your own like the rest of us.

Use Your Words

Chuck and I have been attending a parenting class called Conscious Discipline. It’s put on by the St. Paul Methodist Church in Blue Springs and is an outreach program for the church and advertising for the church’s preschool.

I really enjoy this class. It spotlights some to the bad habits that are easy to slip into as a parent and gives alternatives. We’ve covered Composure, Encouragement and yesterday we learned about Assertiveness.

Assertiveness is clearly and concisely communicating what you want your children to do and expecting them to do it. There is no shouting, guilt, lectures or threats. You simply say, “Pick up the blocks and put them in the basket.” And then expect them to do it.

If they resist or say no, you use a “Tell and Show” approach. Walk over to the child, say their name and wait for eye contact. After you get the eye contact, begin to show the child what to do. As soon as they begin to comply, encourage them with, “You’re doing it! Good for you!”

Being assertive with your child takes the place of being passive (asking) or aggressive (threatening) and firmly, but respectfully communicates expectations.

This lesson couldn’t come at a better time for me, because Ben has found his No Voice. All toddlers have it and it’s an important developmental step. (I like to tell myself this when I want to give the naysayer away.) Toddlers have to separate themselves from their parents and begin to see themselves as an individual person, not an extension of the parent. At least that’s what the books say.

And at some point, we want our kids to know how to say no. Do you want to invest your life savings in this pyramid scheme? Do you want to smoke this doobie? Do you want to live in our basement for the rest of your life? Some situations need a no answer.

But at two, Ben uses no for non-negotiables. Here’s how one conversation went.

Mom: Alright Ben, let’s change your clothes.

Ben: No.
Mom (wrestling toddler): Hey, let’s sing a song. How about If you’re happy and you know it?
Ben: Yeah. Bing. Yeah.
Mom: …then your face will surely show it. Ben come back here, we have to put your pants on.
Ben (looking Mom directly in the eye): No Pants.

This is just one of many. Here is a list of some of my other favorite No Phrases:

• No come. (This always follows, “Ben come here.”)
• No topping. (No shopping. This includes an extra-sad face and crocodile tears. It’s usually reserved for the grocery store.)
• No bed. (Self-explanatory.)
• No Gaga. (Used for a variety of Gary’s antics – eating Ben’s food, sleeping in his bed, attacking his feet, biting his toys, laying on his Hot Wheels tracks. It’s sort of like Gary is Ben’s little bother and ruins his life daily.)
• No home. (He can recognize our route home from three different directions and they all produce the same heart-broken cries. “No home. No home.” When I ask him where he’d like to go, he always says, “Topping.” Yeah right.)
• No way. (This means, “No, I don’t want to put my toys away.” Or “No Mama, don’t help me. Go away.”)

Is it wrong that I think his sad faces
are so funny?

I am still surprised by this back talk. Not that it’s happening, but that it doesn’t involve, well… more talking. I always imagined my children telling me no, and including why. Ben just says no. Chuck pointed out that “No Pants” is really all there is to say. They are such peas in a pod.

Ok, there’s more to this class. The next step in this process is to teach your child how to be assertive with peers (although, clearly mine is able to be assertive with me). The example they used was a tattling situation and here it is:

Child: Cameron pushed me!

Adult: Did you like it?
Child: No
Adult: Go tell Cameron, “I don’t like it when you push me. Say, ‘Move please.’ Practice this now.”

When the child has mastered an assertive voice (not whiny or aggressive), he or she is supposed to go to the offending party and communicate exactly what they didn’t like and what they want to happen.

Conscious Discipline says, “The conflict is never resolved until you end with telling the other person what you want.” It encourages parents and teachers to focus on the behavior they do want rather than what they don’t want.

I was just thinking about how this could be applied to dealing with a customer service representative, coworker or spouse, when Chuck turned to me to practice. He said, “I don’t like it when you eat all the bean dip.”

This is on the heels of several pointed conversations. Namely, “Jackie, I don’t mean to ask you this, but did you eat all this dip?” Yes, I ate all the dip. No, I’m not sorry. BTW, I’m pregnant and hungry.

I’ve definitely had an increased appetite this last week and although I don’t feel like I have any true cravings, I do have food aversions and that leaves my options limited.

I just don’t feel like eating meat right now. I get my protein requirements from eggs and beans (I know that sounds like a bad combination, but it’s working). Chicken, pork chops, steaks all sound awful. Ben’s dietary needs (and Chuck’s dietary wants) dictate that I serve a lot of meat hunks. Rather than making double meals, I just enjoy the sides, maybe a salad and some bean dip.

So what if I polished off the dip. If I’ve ever earned the right to eat all the snack food, it’s now – I’m growing a person. I need sustenance and I choose dip.

I guess I’m proud of Chuck for finding a constructive way to air his grievances. It’s definitely better than his previous plan of asking me if I ate something, his voice dripping with judgment. Who do you think ate the dip? The other three “people” (term used loosely on all counts) in the house, can’t open the refrigerator. Yes, it was me.

So in 2011, let’s all practice communicating assertively. I’ll go first.

Chuck, I don’t like it when you judge me for eating so much. Please don’t comment on my eating habits. Ever."

And here’s my bean dip recipe just in case you want to eat too much too.

1 block cream cheese softened

1 can black beans drained and rinsed
1 can rotel drained
½ cup shredded cheese (Mexican blend or cheddar)

Blend all ingredients together. Bake at 350 for 25 minutes or until cheese is melted. Enjoy with your favorite tortilla chips.

Need a Helping Hand?

About a month ago, Ben started playing a game we simply call Hand. He gets stuck, puts one little hand in the air and yells, "And! And!" We say, "Oh no, are you stuck? Do you need a hand?" and help him out. It's a very suspenseful game and there's a collective sigh of relief when he's unstuck.

I should mention that Ben's version of getting stuck is rarely never really stuck. Sometimes he lays face down on the floor, sometimes he's on his back on the steps. He's been known to put one leg behind a piece of furniture or simply cross his legs. But if you heard his pleas, you'd believe we were dealing with a life or death situation, but we promise he's fine.

One more point before we go on, Chuck also likes to get "stuck" and Ben takes his job as emergency responder very seriously.

I love this game... at home. It's fun to see his imagination working and let's face it, a little drama breaks up the monotony of our days. I do not love this game at the grocery store. People can give you some pretty nasty looks when you have a toddler laying in your cart with one leg and one arm up in the air yelling in a panic. I also do not like this game at the doctor's office.

One morning we were waiting to see our family practice doctor and had to wait about 45 minutes (basically an eternity in toddler time). After about two minutes all the snacks were gone and we'd read Cat and the Hat - twice. So Ben started his game. He'd scoot under a chair and yell, "And!" When the nurse finally called us, the receptionist said, "He's the wild one over there."

Thanks.

Despite my best efforts to quell the game in public, it continues and is expanding. Yesterday, Gary was rolling around on his cat back and Ben yelled, "Gaga, and! Gaga and!" and reached out to take Gary's paw. Gary bit him, but Ben seems undeterred in his mission as first responder.

And this morning, I was contemplating taking down the Christmas decorations, when Ben started playing with the Little People Nativity set. We were talking about Mary being Jesus' mama and the next thing I knew, baby Jesus was face down and Ben was yelling, "And!" Luckily Mary came to Jesus' rescue.

I have nightmares of Little Sister (what I'm currently calling the new baby) face down and Ben shouting for rescue. For now, we'll enjoy the antics.

Christmas in Review

At the beginning of this Christmas season, I made a list of what I wanted to accomplish and enjoy. Here is that list:

1. Teach Ben that Christmas is about Jesus' birth.
2. Help Ben learn generosity.
3. Not worry about money.
4. Not snap at Chuck, Ben or any other innocent bystander.

I simply wanted a peaceful, worshipful, happy home for the holidays. In years past, I have been guilty of being snappy at the very people I love the most. Get out of my way! Can't you see I'm trying to do something nice for you?!?! Yeah, not what I wanted to do this year :)

I would say I accomplished those goals about 80 percent. For the last month, Ben and I have been reading children's books about Jesus' birth. Our two standbys were The Animal's Christmas Eve and The Very First Christmas. Like most two-year-olds, Ben likes to read the same books over and over again and he especially loves donkeys (which are heavily featured in Christmas stories so that helped).

Ben made all the animal sounds, pointed out the donkeys and the "GaGas" (cats). He also enjoyed pointing out the Jesus' star, kissing baby Jesus goodnight and declaring his hatred for Mary. I think he doesn't like that she's on top of the donkey or maybe it's because her eyes are closed in a lot of these pictures, but he always points to her and says, "Ick." I try to tell him, "Benny, that's Jesus' mommy, she's a nice mommy." He just looks at me and hisses. Fine - hate the virgin Mary, but seriously that makes no sense.

I've often wondered why Jesus was born in a stable and after actually delivering a baby (well, being in labor for a day and having him cut out of my belly - not sure if that's a real delivery), it makes me really sad for Mary. I can't think of anything worse than being in labor while riding on a donkey, delivering your baby without your mom and with your new husband, while out of town in a stable. But now I think maybe it's because kids love animals so much, it helps them learn about Christmas.

I'm not sure how much of this Ben really understands. Does he understand that babies grow up to be adults? Is it confusing that sometimes Jesus is a baby, then he's a man, then we pray in His name? I'm really not sure how much sinks in, but if he understands Jesus was born and animals, people and angels were happy, that's probably enough.

To help Ben learn generosity, we made pictures and ornaments for the people we were going to see on Christmas. When Ben received a gift from someone, I wanted him to have something to give them in return so he could learn that gift-giving is a two-way street.



There are little green scribbles
in the left corner. While
Ben was writing he said,
"Bean!"



This was an exercise in patience because 1.) I hate crafts - they are tedious and lame and 2.) I hate crafts with two-year-olds. If you want a mess to clean up and glue all over yourself, your cat, carpet and child, by all means, plan a craft. We made our presents on Christmas Eve and basically ended up with paper, pom poms and stars all over - Ben even had one little gold star stuck to his bottom, which I didn't remove because he looked so festive.

However, I think the sentiment was a success. Ben was super excited about opening gifts this year (finally learning that wrapped boxes mean toys) and he seemed to like giving too. Next year, we'll either do the craft earlier or put together little baskets of no-bake treats. Baking is also bad news with a toddler unless you like sweeping up flour and throwing away all the cookies with finger prints (oh, who am I kidding - eating the finger-print cookies.) I think I'll also let him make a list of people he wants to give a "gift" to.

I made my list and budget early and didn't stress about how much Christmas was costing even once. Yippee - that's a 100 percent victory. And I only snapped a Chuck once on Christmas day (that's basically 100 percent for me). I didn't even glare at the man who cut me in line at the post office while I was holding three packages and a crying two-year-old. Yes, single man mailing one envelope-sized package carrying nothing else, clearly your time is more important than mine and obviously your hands are more full. Please, go ahead of me.

For next year, I think my goals will be the same; although, Ben will be more involved and it will be more challenging with a seven-month-old baby tow. I think we'll add more books, more movies and more activities. Stickers are an okay "craft". I'll probably also spend more time reading the story from the scriptures too.

I had a list of activities I wanted to do with Ben and we actually made it to everything.

1. Winter Wonderland at the Bass Pro Shop. We went with Cole and Noah in the afternoon and had a great time. We watched a model train, rolled monster trucks, raced cars and even got in a little target practice with a Nerf cross bow. It was a really fun FREE event, but if you want to see Santa, pick up a ticket during the day and it moves you to the front of the line.

2. Jackson County Christmas in the Park. Ben loves lights and even though we spent almost two hours in the car (one of which he was out of his car seat and doing really helpful things like turning on our hazard lights) it was worth it. Ben loved it. Next year, I think we'll go earlier in the season and earlier in the day.

3. Trains at Union Station. We saw the model trains at Union Station and that was by far Ben's favorite activity. We went through two rooms of trains or "choo choo beans" as he likes to say. Ben also rode a small train and met Santa, whom he looked at with suspicion.


Christmas fun at Union Station



Don't look at me, Santa!

 







Lone rider on his first time around.

Hi Mama!

4. I hosted Christmas dinner for my parents and Barbra and Curtis. I made table decorations out of mason jars, left over Christmas greenery and cranberries I meant to bake into bread, but never did. We had a fun time and Ben learned his grandparents' names. He still calls my mom "Mama". But he calls my dad "Baba Jack" and Barbra "Nee Nee Ba Ba". She's lucky. I did burn the ham because I put it in the crock pot with 12 hours to cook instead of eight (math at midnight is always dangerous for me), but Chuck's perfectly fried turkey made up for it.

 

Chuck gave me new dishes for
Christmas.



Yes, I made this. It only
took five minutes and
Ben even helped.



 We also enjoyed tiny aprons at my mom's and dogs in dresses at the Enderle's.

Mom gave Ben a grill so naturally he
needed an apron to go with it
and obviously it should match Daddy's.

Lexi in her Christmas best.

 2010 was truly a blessed Christmas season. I hope it was for you as well.

It's a Girl

Apparently my dreams are still the crazy ramblings of my subconscious and have no prophetic power at all, because we are having a GIRL!

When the technician told us I was thrilled and Chuck looked like he was going to throw up. I'm excited that our house will be nice and even with three and three. I already feel a little out-numbered when Chuck and Ben are in their Chiefs gear, watching football all day Sunday.

So, here's to a little girl. I can't wait to meet her.

Yickety Yack Don't Talk Back

Ben spent the afternoon telling me how much he hates certain things, particularly things I really love.

Please don't be fooled, he's still a boy of few words. He's just getting better - much better - at getting his point across. And when he doesn't like something, he makes this noise in his throat that is somewhere between the word "ick" and a hiss. It actually sounds like someone hacking up a cold byproduct. We're not really sure where he picked up this habit, but I blame my mother. Although, she likes to reserve this lower form of communication for food.

Ben used to keep this "word" in his pocket too, but he unleashed it with full force today. While I was making breakfast, he brought me the case for A Muppet Christmas Carol, pointed emphatically and said, "Ick," like a hundred times.

What?! That's arguably the best Christmas movie ever! The Muppets meet Charles Dickens meet the best musical score I've ever heard! How can you possibly hate it?! So, I asked him and he looked me in the eye and said, "Ick."

First, please reserve your back talk, for a time when there is actual talking involved. Second, I don't care if you do hate it - I'll just watch it when you're in bed and your judgey father is out of town (like I do every year).

He also told me he hated a CD of instrumental Christmas music (which is beautiful and super calming by the way) and his cup of apple juice... which I later found in the trash.

He is truly his father's son and even now they love many of the same things: meat, grunting rather than talking, and the Chiefs. That's right, Ben loves the Chiefs and he proved it today when a friend dropped off some Chiefs apparel her son outgrew. Ben pointed at that arrowhead logo and said, "Cool Chiefs!" Actually, it sounded more like, "Coo Sheesh," but the sentiment was clear.

Fine, the two of you can have each other and you're welcome to make fun of the things that I love all you want. It's only fair, I remember mercilessly making fun of my mother for watching this awful, black-and-white version of A Christmas Carol. I'm pretty sure it followed the book word-for-word and that's why my mom loved it so much. But to me, it was torture.

So Benjamin, here is a list of my favorite Christmas movies. Please feel free to hate them and tease me relentlessly. It's your God-given right as a child to think your mom is lame.

5. White Christmas - I love Danny Kaye and can sing every word of every song. So what.
4. Elf - Will Farrell in green tights. I don't think there is anything else to say.
3. A Charlie Brown Christmas - Linus' monologue made me love him even more and someday, my blanket-toting son, will love this movie too.
2. It's a Wonderful Life - This movie always fills me with so much hope. It's great to remember how valuable we all are.
1. A Christmas Story - "Randy laid there like a slug. It was his only defense."

And the very best Christmas movie of all time - A Muppet Christmas Carol. I really don't know how anyone can resist this movie's charm. Check out my favorite song from this movie.

Unto Us a Son is Given

I got Ben a Little People nativity set to play with during the Christmas season and so far it's been a whole lot of fun.

First, we are a little confused about the contents of the set. It's seems as though one character can double as both Joseph and a shepherd. He was standing in the stable by baby Jesus, but he's also holding a shepherd's staff. Chuck keeps saying really helpful things, "Where the heck is Joseph? You'd think he wouldn't miss something like this."

Second, Ben really likes to play with this set and one of his favorite things to do is put another character on top of the stable where the angel is supposed to be. So far his favorite choices are one of the wise men and the cow.

This tempts me to say things like, "But the cow said unto them, 'Fear not, for behold I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day, in the city of David, a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.'"

Third, Gary likes to get into the action further leading us to rewrite the Christmas story. Here's an example. "And this is the way you shall find the babe, he is wrapped in swaddling clothes, and is lying in a manger. And it came to pass a great and terrible beast came upon the land. And the beast destroyed all that was in his path. And all the people were sore afraid. And they called the beast Catzilla.'"

Lastly, this toy allows me to ask this question every single day, "Ben, where is baby Jesus? Benjamin, look at me, show me where you put Baby Jesus." He's usually tucked safely under Ben's blanket (which he now calls Buddy) or sometimes he's less fortunate and laying face down under the couch or Christmas tree.

In any case, this toy has been a whole lot of fun for our imaginations over the last few days. And we wish you a joyfilled holiday season too.

Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Girl?

Ben has developed a new phobia… girls. He’s especially fearful of baby girls who are trying to touch him.

Every morning when I drop him off, Evie sings, “Beh-en,” and tries to hug him. Ben responds by looking panicked and backing away slowly. Alternate means of defense include clutching his blanket and crying.

At first, I thought maybe he just isn’t into hugging right now, but I threw out that theory Sunday, when he acted similarly fearful of little Emma. Emma is 13 months old and enamored with hair. She toddled over to Ben and ran her hands through his luscious locks. Again, he looked panicked, cried and this time ran away. 

Seriously, what’s so scary about these lovely ladies? They’re beautiful, sweet little girls. This phobia is especially funny because, Ben is a pretty brave kid. He climbs on and off furniture that’s taller than him, he slides down big-kid slides with delight, runs straight up to almost any dog, but these gentle little girls, with their sweet smiles and sing-song voices, seem strike true terror in his heart. 

Last night one of Chuck’s friends from high school joined us for dinner and I told him about Ben’s girl-phobia. He laughed and said, “Well, I remember his dad being that way too.”

I’ve heard many stories about Chuck’s lack of girlfriends. Chas, Chuck's sister, to this day tells me, “I thought Chuckie was gay. He never had any girlfriends.”

She even made this comment on our wedding day. I thought, “That’s kind of weird, I was expecting, ‘Congratulations’ or ‘Welcome to the family’ but okay we’re going with… relief?”

I’m sure Ben will grow out of his fear of girls, probably before I’m ready for him to. And I’m equally sure he’ll be fearless when it comes to snakes and other creepy crawlies that terrify me.

I can imagine him stuffing frogs in his pockets – or worse my pockets – and wondering how cheerful little girls are so scary, but icky frogs are so intriguing. 

Monkey See Monkey Do

Kids are notorious for proving their parents wrong. If you say, "Oh, he never eats that," be prepared to eat your words.

Ben proved me wrong twice this weekend. He spent Saturday night with Aunt D and Uncle J and his cousins, CJ (3) and NW (17 months) and Sunday we went over as a family to watch the Superbowl.

Saturday night I told D to have Ben do everything her boys did: dinner, bath, milk, bed. She specifically asked, "Can he take a bath with the boys?" And I specifically answered, "Oh yeah, he loves bathes."

And he does. This kid loves water and wails any time you try to remove him from water of any source: the bath, pool, hose, dog bowl, toilet, anything.

Well, that night Ben didn't love the bath. In fact, he hated it. I was told he stood the entire time angrily and urgently signing 'please' and then lifting his hands as if to say, "Please pick me up NOW!"

Sunday night, NW asked for a banana and D gave him one while she informed me that the only way he'll eat bananas is if he can hold it himself. The next thing I know, NW is happily sitting on D's hip holding and eating a banana. He looked like a baby monkey.

Ben was happily sitting on my hip watching NW eat his banana. As I said, "Ben hates bananas no matter how I serve them," Ben pointed one little finger at the bunch and signed 'please'. I tried to remind him that he hates bananas, but D said, "Let him try it."

So I did. And he loved it. And there we were, with our baby monkeys on our hips eating their bananas.

I found Ben's habit of proving me wrong irritating at first, but now I think I can use it to my advantage. Just like everyone else, Ben is motivated by his peers and this is my new key to encouraging good behavior.

We have not completely transitioned from a bottle to a cup. Ben drinks water and juice from a sippy cup, regular cup and a cup with a straw just fine, but when it comes to his milk, it can only be a bottle. I'm going to arrange bedtime with his older cousins again. We're going to make a big deal about how everyone gets milk in a cup and hopefully he'll drink it.

It seems strange to think that someday I'll be advocting against peer pressure, but right now, I'm using it.

Just Smile

Lately I've been writing about my poor parenting skills. And while usually my skills are somewhat lacking, I've got a good piece of parenting advice today. It isn't mine. Michelle Duggar, matriarch of 19 Kids and Counting, gives this advice often. Are you ready, because it's revolutionary?

Smile at your children.

I'm guessing people who don't have children are saying, "duh." But seriously, sometimes you have to remind yourself to smile and it really makes a difference.

Ben is 15 months old and the littlest things break his heart. If I tell him bathtime is over he bursts into tears. If Grammy gathers her coat to leave, he gets fussy. Sometimes I look at him and wonder how he survives so many mini crisis every single day.

Luckily, a smile and hug go a long way to mend these wounds. So remember, smile at your children.

Fashion vs Function

I'm always a tiny bit envious of those moms whose children always look so put together. Their daughters' ponytails are perfect and their sons' sleeves are jam-free.

Ben never looks that put together. He always has bed-head by the end of the day there's definitely food on his clothes.

For a while I blamed him, but now I realize this is my fault. I found this picture yesterday while I was looking for photos of Sharkey. I remember this day. We were totally out of clean clothes and hadn't purchased a fall jacket yet. So Ben ended up wearing this lovely outfit.

Yes, he's is wearing horizontally striped pants, smurf-blue socks, and a fleece dog jacket complete with a bone for a zipper. And yes, I dressed him. Although, when our babysitter mentioned his outfit, I told her Chuck picked it out and we both had a good laugh.

Just like anything else, looking neat and tidy takes planning, specifically planning to do the laundry. In this case, I failed to do that. It also takes planning to purchase the appropriate outerwear for the season. I also failed to do this.

So, as I was riffling though his drawers and weighing our options - the pants you see or swim trunks - I was faced with the choice: Do I let my son look good and be cold, or be warm and look bad? I chose warmth over fashion... and opted to photograph his misfortune.

Confessions of a Bad Parent

Chuck's been gone for two weeks. We had a great time visiting him in the City of Angels last weekend (I'll cover vacation highlights later) but I've basically been a single parent for the past two weeks and we're all suffering. Trying to juggle the meals, bills, licensing the car, Ben, bath time, and working is too much for me.

So, here are two recent (read daily) shortfalls. Confession is good for the soul, right?

1. Jacking Benny's Tunes: Ben falls asleep to Baby Einstein's classical lullabies every night. He loves his tunes and even makes the same noises during certain songs (my mom swears he sings along to Ave Maria). We have two CDs, but I left one in California and one at Evie's house. So, I was trying to find his 18 songs in an iTunes list containing literally thousands of songs. I could find the first song, but the library was set on shuffle. As soon as the last melodic notes of "Piano Sonata No. 7" faded away, Busta Rhyme's "Gimme Some More" scared both of us. Hearing Busta shout, "Yeah," was definitely not what we were expecting. Thankfully, SG set me straight on how to manage iTunes and we were in business.

2. Letting Ben Play on the Stove: By the time it's bedtime, our household is starting to unravel. Ben is fussy, dishes are stacked in the sink, food stuck to the table (and elsewhere) and for some reason, Ben insists on being held while I heat up his pre-bedtime milk. If I put him on the floor, he rolls around crying. Holding him is inconvenient so I usually put him on the stove. He scoots around up there, sets the oven to "Clean" mode and stacks my spices in candle holders, stores his pacifier in the tea pot. He loves it and I get 45 seconds to make a bottle. I think we can all agree that the oven is not an appropriate toy for a 15-month-old, but at that time of day, all of the appropriate toys are old news.

I have a myriad of other shortcomings that involve letting Ben eat chips or a cinnamon roll so I can finish dinner. I also let him play on the washer when I'm folding clothes and the vanity when I'm getting ready. For variety, sometimes I put him Chuck's dirty clothes hamper for folding and the hot tub for getting ready. Usually Gary joins him and they look like they're having the adventure of their lives so I only feel a little guilty basically locking my baby up so I can put on some mascara or find clean underwear.

My mom always says, "I know I ruined you kids," and I think about these things and wonder how I'm currently ruining Ben. I can imagine him solemnly telling his therapist, "No, I didn't have any toys as a child; my mother used to put me in a basket of dirty clothes to play." Or worse, "My mother made me listen to Busta Rhymes."