Category: Kids/Parenting

Tips, tricks and adventures in parenting two kids.

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Kids/Parenting Contests

Solid!

Once upon a time, Rebecca liked solid foods. Okay, well, she liked bananas like two times. But at eight months, she’s once again nursing exclusively.

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Baby: folds for easy storage convenience!

I think it had something to do with the entire month she spent with teeth painfully bulging her gums. The closest she came to solids was a steady stream of Tylenol.

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Also, she had the dreaded car pox

We tried a variety of foods; we gave her teething biscuits; we let her hold saltines. The only thing she had any interest in sticking in her mouth was the bottle of the aforementioned medicine.

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Silly Mommy. I don’t want this!

One tooth finally came through last Friday and the second this Friday. But that wasn’t what it took to get her interested in solids.

Yesterday, I had some beef stew. She found my empty bowl very interesting, so I tried to tease her with a little of the leftover sauce in a spoon.

She ate it. She ate and ate and ate until I couldn’t scrape together enough to put in her mouth anymore. I fetched half a teething biscuit; she suddenly understood where that was supposed to go. She went to town on some saltines.

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Nummy!

We haven’t attempted any more solids today, but here’s hoping she’ll be interested when we do!

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Kids/Parenting

Cute Hayden sayings

Although I always appreciate your encouragement, my last post wasn’t prompted by frustration or disappointment with motherhood. (It’s actually the result of conversations with Ryan about whether or not working or pursuing further education with small children is ‘selfish,’ though perhaps the post sounds a bit far afield from that.)

Yeah, I talked about how much of a drudgery motherhood can be with several concrete details (some exaggerated, but not by much). But it wasn’t out of bitterness or frustration—though perhaps it was out of resignation.

And yes, I know that being a mom’s not all bad (and being a working mom isn’t all bad either). So now might be a good time to share the cute phrases I’ve been collecting from Hayden over the last week or two.

hayden gazing intently at a donut

  • “What dis sheener do?” (What does this machine do?)
  • “I so cited see you!” (I’m so excited to see you! Upon returning home to me)
  • “What’s going on in here?” (Upon seeing a rather lot of stuff in the car.)
  • “It’s windin’ awound” (The wind is blowing around us.)
  • “Get more a’ store.” (Said whenever we run out of something.)
  • [turns straw to me] “Do dis: gu’p! Gu’p! Gu’p! Ahhh! Mmm!”
  • “Guess what! [repeat] I yub you!”
  • [Aunt Brooke: Tell me about baby Becca.] “Whad a ’bout baby Becca?”
  • “Know what? I yub you!”
  • “Wayda minit! Wayda minit! Wayda minit!” (Wait a minute!)
  • “Fix it better!”
  • “Openinin it!”
  • “Turn it yowder” (‘louder’—turn up the television. Opposite of “Turn it yiddle!”)
  • “Dis one’s strong an’ hewfy!” (This one’s strong and healthy, said of a battery.)
  • “Don’ wowwy.” (worry) and “Don’ wowwy; I god it.”
  • “I yubs you [jump up an octave] ‘O MUCH!”
  • “Reawwy???”
  • “How me feew? Me feew happy!”
  • “I been freaming for days!” (I’ve been screaming for days.)
  • “Why not?” (Instead of “Why?”)
  • “B’cuz”/”B’cuss”/”P’cuss” (Because, often given by itself as an explanation. Wonder where he gets that from?)
  • “Gooooo Cougars!” (upon seeing our alma mater’s logo)
  • “I soakin’ wet!” (when he is)

Sometimes, you just have to laugh (and not just to keep from crying).

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Kids/Parenting

I have a daughter (Or, alternatively, I am slow)

Maybe I’ve been a mother of a boy for too long. Maybe I’ve been out of school for too long. Maybe I’m just clueless. But this week, it suddenly hit me.

I have a daughter.

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What up, Mom?

Okay, really, I know she’s a girl. In fact, it was one year ago today that we found out we were having a girl. So I’ve had plenty of time to get used to that idea.

But I guess I hadn’t really appreciated the full meaning of having a daughter until this week. It happened gradually. First we ran out of everyday pants for Rebecca, so I went through the mass of 6-12 month clothes we finally got out for her (she also still needs a dresser). All I found were dresses and skirts. I settled for a denim play skirt.

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Look at those lashes!

We went through two denim skirts that day, and still the laundry didn’t get done (where is my laundry fairy?!). So the next day, I put her in a dress.

kids-feb-mar-2009-092smallIt was at this point that it hit me. I have a little girl. She can wear play dresses and tights—and I can buy frills and ribbons and flowers. She can play with dolls and pretend to teach them to read. She can play house, pretend to cook (if Hayden will let her take over those duties, of course), and dress up in my high heels. (No comment on doing her hair.)

But most of all: she can take dance lessons. Most instruments, most sports, most clubs, most other extracurriculars are fairly gender-neutral. But, let’s face it, dance lessons are they epitome of little girlitude.

This led me to a new dilemma: what kind of dance lessons? I did years and years of ballet, and a semester of Irish dance in college. I love lyrical; I don’t enjoy tap or jazz. We’re technically of Scottish descent, so there’s always Highland dance to consider.

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I’ve decided, however, not to worry about all that now. Even after she’s old enough to start “dance” lessons, it’ll be years before she’s old enough or required to choose among the various styles.

And considering it took me a year to understand that we have a daughter, I’m sure it’ll take me that long to figure out what kind of dance (if any) we want her in anyway!

What are your favorite things about little girls?

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Kids/Parenting Fulfillment Faith

Why I really chose to be a mother

All kidding aside, I did choose to have children and it (obviously) had nothing to do with the laud, praise and reward I receive everyday when I leave the house.

I knew I would be a mother my entire life. It was what I was supposed to do—go to college, get married and have kids. My husband was raised with the same life plan (plus “get a productive job” somewhere in there).

I know that we come to this earth to receive a physical body that is necessary for us to learn and progress, and I know that part of God’s plan for our eternal happiness is having children.

When I was a teenager, my mother was trying to get me to go to a midweek church activity. She argued that this was our Heavenly Father’s plan for my happiness. I retorted, “Then it’s not working!” Sometimes, though I know God designed parenthood for our eternal happiness, I still want to shout “It’s not working!”

Before I had children, I knew it would make us happy. Since I’ve had children, there have been a lot of times where I was too tired or overwhelmed or annoyed or hormonal or otherwise off-kilter to remember that—and I think that is a big reason why I started this blog.

It’s too easy for me to forget that I wanted my children—and I did and I do. I couldn’t imagine where I would be without them now, and though I don’t often think/say/admit this, I do think I wouldn’t be as happy without them.

My children have taught me things about myself, lessons about life, truths I sometimes forget. They have made me less selfish (though we have a long way to go on that one!), more caring and, yes, exponentially more exhausted.

Whenever a mother says something (gasp!) less than positive about motherhood (like that she’s so freakin tired she can’t see straight and she could just strangle her dear sweet husband for getting sick on the first morning in two weeks that she could get an extra hour of sleep), she is obligated to add “But it’s worth it.” As I’ve said before, every time I hear a parent say that, I immediately begin to wonder if I could claim the same and really mean it.

But I chose this life because I know it will be worth it. Even if I can’t say it after spending three hours trying to put Rebecca down for a nap only to have Hayden wake up the second she falls asleep, I know one day I will be able to say it.

I hope.

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Kids/Parenting Fulfillment

Why I Chose to Have Children

Just in case we weren’t clear, the following is a satire.

I like me.

No. I take it back. I love me.

I love everything about me. I have blue eyes, I’m tall, I’m fashionable, I’m a talented writer and musician, I’m extremely intelligent, I’m svelte, I’m funny, I’m witty. I could go on, but I’m sure you get the picture.

To make an already-too-long story short (as if you could ever tire of hearing how great I am!), I know that my specific combination of genes and je ne sais quoi is, frankly, the among best that the world has seen. It would be tantamount to a crime to deny the world the perpetuation of my DNA.

july-2008-rebecca-hospital-051Also, I like attention. I enjoy having every eye in the room on me, and before I had children, I couldn’t help but notice how everyone in the chapel turned to stare at the mother with the toddler screaming “MOOOOOOOOOORE WAAAADDERRRRRRR!” during the Sacrament.

Or how everyone in the quiet restaurant clucked at the mother with the five-year-old throwing his $7.99 macaroni and cheese on the floor. Or the surreptitious yet piteous glances at the mother whose teenage daughter will be having a baby of her own any day.

I couldn’t help but think, “Oh, if only I were that mother. Every eye would be on me!”

Let’s face it; mothers are a privileged class in our society. No one else demands the attention of a crowd like the mother with more small children than hands, especially if she should be lucky enough to have one run away or throw a tantrum.

No one else gets to sit at home eating ice cream for breakfast and watching oh-so-premium daytime television, and only be expected to explain to everyone outside their elite tier exactly what it is they do all day. No one else receives the admiration of peers and strangers, evident by such comments as “You certainly have your hands full!” and “Don’t you know what causes that?”

Speaking of which, mothers are never at a loss for conversation starters. Mothers have kind strangers approach them in public places to offer much needed and prized job feedback. Helpful soon-to-be-friends always know exactly where you could improve. (The less kind people just smile and nod, or offer a not-conducive-to-conversation “We’ve all been there.”)

Mothers get tax credits. They get to have the booths and biggest tables at restaurants; they can use handicapped ramps, door openers and elevators without guilt; they even get to board airplanes first! Little wonder I was so envious of mothers.

Lest I forget, there was a range of experiences I felt fundamentally lacking from my life. I’d never been puked on, peed on or pooped on. I had a queasy qualm about the sight of blood that I definitely wanted to resolve. And I’d never been to an emergency room.

I was getting entirely too much sleep, hadn’t had stretch marks since my preteen growth spurts, and had only ground a few pounds’ worth of food into my carpet.

The privileges our society unfairly reserves only for mothers begin as soon as one is visibly pregnant. Suddenly, people finally feel the license to address my weight gain, to touch my person without the pesky formality of asking permission.

In the end, I think it was a foregone conclusion that I would choose motherhood. Between bequeathing the world with the continuation of my genetic line, earning the admiration and attention of everyone within earshot (or macaroni and cheese range), and the fabulous conversation starters, how could I pass up this opportunity?

Why did you choose to have children? Please, leave only sarcastic answers here; we’ll try this again with sincere reasons later in the week!

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Kids/Parenting

Christmas jammies

I can’t remember how long we’ve had this tradition, but every year, my mom would let us open one gift on Christmas Eve—and it was always pajamas (and virtually always flannel pajamas).

This year, Hayden and Rebecca got pajamas that match all their cousins’ (thanks Aunt Toria!). You can see Hayden’s beloved monkey pajamas with his bike on Christmas morning.

Keeping with the animal theme, my mom got us reindeer pajamas!

Here’s our happy family in front of my in-laws’ Christmas tree:
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Rebecca seemed to like them very much:
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