In the behind...That's what's happening with my parenting techniques. Parker is using them against me!
Yesterday he said:
"Mommy, when you say things like that, like 'You can't have anymore fruit snacks today,' it makes me not want to be around you or do nice things for you."
I happen to use that phrase when gets too rough in his play [hitting or spitting] or when he says mean things to his sister.
Then he turned my own words against me today. A work crew was cleaning up a huge tree limb that knocked down a phone line connected to our house. Parker had been begging to go outside so he could watch them use the chainsaw and talk to them. I allowed him to go onto the porch. Then, of course, he just wanted to ride his bike in the driveway. Please, mommy!
So I dragged the hose across the driveway to create a boundary. If his front tire so much as touched it...
He assured me he understood and biked happily in circles while he watched the workers at the other end of the driveway. I went inside to finish cleaning the dishes, watching him from the window. He edged his bike right up to the hose then quickly glanced at the house. I waved and gave a warning look. He smiled, waved back, and backed away.
I ran upstairs to check on Maddie who was happily destroying the playroom. When I glanced out the hall window, he was turning on the hose. Fearful of the phone wire on the ground nearby, I threw open the window:
"Parker Jacob! Turn that hose off right now!"
He looked up, startled, and ran to turn it off.
When I came downstairs, he entered the back door, lip quivering.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
"Mommy, you said, 'Parker Jacob, turn that hose off right now,' and that wasn't a very nice way to ask me."
"I'm sorry, honey." I explained, "I was nervous about the water being on around the phone line. I needed to get your attention right away."
"Well, next time you could just say, 'Please, Parker Jacob, could you turn that hose off?'"
I had a hard time keeping a straight face. Then he said, "Let's give it a try," and he ran to the back door so I could re-enact the scene in a more polite manner.
6/14/10
6/13/10
Creative Excuses
Parker is the king of attempting to extend his bedtime. Always wanting another "show" (cartoon), another story, another cup of milk.
Two nights ago, when Aaron put him in bed for the second time, he cried, "But mommy only read me some of the Bible. I need someone to read me all of the Bible." Call me a cynic, but somehow I find it hard to believe spiritual longings were behind his request.
Tonight he came downstairs with some pages in his hand.
"Daddy, while I was reading my book I think I tore some pages out by accident...and I need some more milk."
Aaron took him upstairs with the milk while I repaired the book. Upon entering his room I overheard an interesting conversation about a medical condition he had (of which I was completely unaware).
"Daddy, I can't go to sleep. I have an allergy. It's called a red allergy. I can't close my eyes because they burn. It's the allergy."
I left the room before he could hear my giggles. When Aaron came downstairs he was chuckling. Apparently Parker had agreed to go to sleep under a few conditions:
"Daddy, I'll go to sleep, but I want you to wake me up in this many [holds up his hand]. Count my fingers!"
Aaron counted: "One, two, three, four, five."
"In five minutes!...And I need mommy to bring me more milk."
Is anyone else thinking that this little scenario is completely ridiculous? It's funny, yes, but also a little crazy on our part [the parents] for allowing it to go on this long.
Enough was enough! I marched up the stairs (milk in hand, of course).
"Parker, I am going to have to tell you something, and you are not going to like it."
"Okay..."
"After tonight, you will drink your 'bedtime milk' downstairs. No more milk in your bedroom. We need to keep all food and drink downstairs in the kitchen.".
Long pause.
"You were right, mommy. I didn't like it."
Poor little guy. He has no idea what he's in for. See, I'm about to go all Super-Nanny on his little behind. Bedtime is about to get really interesting. Stay tuned!
Two nights ago, when Aaron put him in bed for the second time, he cried, "But mommy only read me some of the Bible. I need someone to read me all of the Bible." Call me a cynic, but somehow I find it hard to believe spiritual longings were behind his request.
Tonight he came downstairs with some pages in his hand.
"Daddy, while I was reading my book I think I tore some pages out by accident...and I need some more milk."
Aaron took him upstairs with the milk while I repaired the book. Upon entering his room I overheard an interesting conversation about a medical condition he had (of which I was completely unaware).
"Daddy, I can't go to sleep. I have an allergy. It's called a red allergy. I can't close my eyes because they burn. It's the allergy."
I left the room before he could hear my giggles. When Aaron came downstairs he was chuckling. Apparently Parker had agreed to go to sleep under a few conditions:
"Daddy, I'll go to sleep, but I want you to wake me up in this many [holds up his hand]. Count my fingers!"
Aaron counted: "One, two, three, four, five."
"In five minutes!...And I need mommy to bring me more milk."
Is anyone else thinking that this little scenario is completely ridiculous? It's funny, yes, but also a little crazy on our part [the parents] for allowing it to go on this long.
Enough was enough! I marched up the stairs (milk in hand, of course).
"Parker, I am going to have to tell you something, and you are not going to like it."
"Okay..."
"After tonight, you will drink your 'bedtime milk' downstairs. No more milk in your bedroom. We need to keep all food and drink downstairs in the kitchen.".
Long pause.
"You were right, mommy. I didn't like it."
Poor little guy. He has no idea what he's in for. See, I'm about to go all Super-Nanny on his little behind. Bedtime is about to get really interesting. Stay tuned!
6/9/10
My new parenting book
Okay, so I'm not really going to write one. But if I were...
My first chapter would be entitled: Starvation: It really works!
Today I stumbled across this truth: If you starve them, they will eat. It may not sound profound at first, but repeat it with the same whispered reverence as the famous phrase in Field of Dreams. That's how my revelation felt to me.
Of course, I would never actually starve my children. I just don't think I allow them to become hungry enough to really appreciate their food, and I never realized that until this afternoon.
Today when I woke them from nap we immediately became so engrossed in our pirate adventures, we forgot to have a snack. Then we went outside to play. Parker drenched himself (and everything else within range) with the hose, Maddie pushed her stroller, and I cleaned out the van for the third time this week. We were just too busy having fun to be bothered with food.
When Aaron got home we all stayed outside playing frisbee (or "tuzzbee" as Parker likes to call it) while our dinner was on the grill. I ran in to set the table and give them a few extra minutes of play. Then, bracing myself for the inevitable onslaught of protests, I called them all in to eat. What happened next was nothing short of amazing.
Parker jumped into the air and exclaimed, "Yay! Dinner!" and ran inside. [That was it, in case you were waiting for more.]
Aaron and I just stared at each other as Parker ran past us into the kitchen.
You must understand how atypical this behavior was in order to appreciate the enormity of the situation. On a daily basis, I hear the same whiny responses from him regarding dinner:
Not yet!
Can you please set the timer for two more minutes?
I'm not hungry.
That's too spicy.
I don't like that.
That green stuff is yucky.
I don't want to eat.
Can I just drink my milk?
Imagine my surprise and delight when he expressed joy at the announcement of dinner, promptly came in, and actually ate!
I say it again, starvation: it works!
My first chapter would be entitled: Starvation: It really works!
Today I stumbled across this truth: If you starve them, they will eat. It may not sound profound at first, but repeat it with the same whispered reverence as the famous phrase in Field of Dreams. That's how my revelation felt to me.
Of course, I would never actually starve my children. I just don't think I allow them to become hungry enough to really appreciate their food, and I never realized that until this afternoon.
Today when I woke them from nap we immediately became so engrossed in our pirate adventures, we forgot to have a snack. Then we went outside to play. Parker drenched himself (and everything else within range) with the hose, Maddie pushed her stroller, and I cleaned out the van for the third time this week. We were just too busy having fun to be bothered with food.
When Aaron got home we all stayed outside playing frisbee (or "tuzzbee" as Parker likes to call it) while our dinner was on the grill. I ran in to set the table and give them a few extra minutes of play. Then, bracing myself for the inevitable onslaught of protests, I called them all in to eat. What happened next was nothing short of amazing.
Parker jumped into the air and exclaimed, "Yay! Dinner!" and ran inside. [That was it, in case you were waiting for more.]
Aaron and I just stared at each other as Parker ran past us into the kitchen.
You must understand how atypical this behavior was in order to appreciate the enormity of the situation. On a daily basis, I hear the same whiny responses from him regarding dinner:
Not yet!
Can you please set the timer for two more minutes?
I'm not hungry.
That's too spicy.
I don't like that.
That green stuff is yucky.
I don't want to eat.
Can I just drink my milk?
Imagine my surprise and delight when he expressed joy at the announcement of dinner, promptly came in, and actually ate!
I say it again, starvation: it works!
6/7/10
Tude
Attitude. There is so much of it flying around our house these days, we have shortened the word to "tude." Just easier to say. "Cut the tude, Parker." "Maddie, don't give me that tude." Aaron even calls Maddie "a little tude-lette."
Where did they get it? Do we, as parents, really exhibit so much they are simply mimicking what they see, or were they born with this condition?
A few examples:
If I have to repeat a request, the tone of my voice changes, becoming progressively more firm [read annoyed/severe]. "Parker, please go potty so we can leave." I will repeat this several times before I start to count. If I get to 3 there is trouble. Usually by the time I get to two, Parker will give an exaggerated high-pitched sigh, "Hhuuuuuhhhhhh!" (He kind of sounds like Ms. Piggy from the Muppets.) "Alriiiight. I hear you. I'm going!"
When he recently responded to his father's request with a similar sigh, Aaron told him to watch it. Parker quickly explained he was "just being a pirate." Apparently pirates sound like Ms. Piggy, too.
Maddie's attitude rears its ugly head in other ways.
There is the good old "stink eye." She still gives this withering look on occasion, when a stranger says hello, when we tell her "no," or when she just feels like it.
There is the full-body flail. If you so much as look at her when she doesn't want you to, she will screech and throw her body around. [See previous blog entries about my suspicions of demon-possession.]
Then there is her new, favorite word: no. Maddie doesn't just say, "No." It is an art. A lovely, long drawn out statement, "Nnnnnoooooooohhh." It is usually followed by a smile.
However, if her "no" was in response to a non-negotiable situation (e.g. "Maddie, we are going to change your poopy diaper now."), the smile vanishes and is followed by the full body flail. Not ideal when you are dealing with a soiled diaper, let me tell you.
Finally, our own children have begun scolding us. Tonight Parker was allowed to stay up extra-late and watch TV since he had such a rough day at the allergist's office. When we finally put him to bed, he was informed there would be no late-night trips downstairs for special requests (another bedtime story, milk, etc.). As I tucked him in he said, "Mommy, can you please ask Daddy to come up and tell me another story."
Me: No, he told you he had said good-night and it was time for you to go to sleep.
P: Well could you just ask him?
Me: Fine. I'll ask, but the answer is probably no, so go on to sleep.
P: Ok.
Aaron opted to stay downstairs.
Creak, creak, creak.
Tiptoe. Tiptoe. Tiptoe.
"Daddy! I told mommy to ask you to come upstairs but all you did was stay down here and watch TV!"
Where did they get it? Do we, as parents, really exhibit so much they are simply mimicking what they see, or were they born with this condition?
A few examples:
If I have to repeat a request, the tone of my voice changes, becoming progressively more firm [read annoyed/severe]. "Parker, please go potty so we can leave." I will repeat this several times before I start to count. If I get to 3 there is trouble. Usually by the time I get to two, Parker will give an exaggerated high-pitched sigh, "Hhuuuuuhhhhhh!" (He kind of sounds like Ms. Piggy from the Muppets.) "Alriiiight. I hear you. I'm going!"
When he recently responded to his father's request with a similar sigh, Aaron told him to watch it. Parker quickly explained he was "just being a pirate." Apparently pirates sound like Ms. Piggy, too.
Maddie's attitude rears its ugly head in other ways.
There is the good old "stink eye." She still gives this withering look on occasion, when a stranger says hello, when we tell her "no," or when she just feels like it.
There is the full-body flail. If you so much as look at her when she doesn't want you to, she will screech and throw her body around. [See previous blog entries about my suspicions of demon-possession.]
Then there is her new, favorite word: no. Maddie doesn't just say, "No." It is an art. A lovely, long drawn out statement, "Nnnnnoooooooohhh." It is usually followed by a smile.
However, if her "no" was in response to a non-negotiable situation (e.g. "Maddie, we are going to change your poopy diaper now."), the smile vanishes and is followed by the full body flail. Not ideal when you are dealing with a soiled diaper, let me tell you.
Finally, our own children have begun scolding us. Tonight Parker was allowed to stay up extra-late and watch TV since he had such a rough day at the allergist's office. When we finally put him to bed, he was informed there would be no late-night trips downstairs for special requests (another bedtime story, milk, etc.). As I tucked him in he said, "Mommy, can you please ask Daddy to come up and tell me another story."
Me: No, he told you he had said good-night and it was time for you to go to sleep.
P: Well could you just ask him?
Me: Fine. I'll ask, but the answer is probably no, so go on to sleep.
P: Ok.
Aaron opted to stay downstairs.
Creak, creak, creak.
Tiptoe. Tiptoe. Tiptoe.
"Daddy! I told mommy to ask you to come upstairs but all you did was stay down here and watch TV!"
Lemonade
At church, they've been doing a series called Lemonade. It's all about how you can view your circumstances when life hands you lemons.
Today we got ourselves a whole basket of lemons. Took Parker and Maddie to the allergist. Parker had been to one in Seattle when he was just a baby. I suspected he'd still have allergy issues (especially here in KY where there is a healthy coat of pollen on everything). Maddie had never been, but I knew that with her eczema (red, itchy skin rash) and reaction to peanut butter (blisters wherever it touches her skin) she'd have some allergies, too.
What I didn't know was that I would:
be in that tiny office for 4 hours and 15 minutes
need 2 other adult women to help me pin my screaming son down while he received about 50 pricks
have to listen to my baby boy repeatedly scream, "Please stop! Please stop! Please stop!"
hear that my kids are both "highly allergic" individuals
learn how to use an EpiPen
need to redecorate the living room (no more down pillows for us!)
have to reconsider my daughter's daily diet to exclude corn, rice, eggs, strawberries, dairy products, peanuts, etc.
bug the landlord about fixing the a/c since the kids can't have their windows open
consider shampooing my poor cat on a weekly basis so I can justify her existence in our home
The list goes on...
But, really, who cares? Seriously, who cares? So they have a slew of allergies. Am I really going to complain? Lemonade, anyone?
I am so blessed that:
Aaron has a job that provides income and insurance
our insurance allows us to see a specialist for a decent rate
our insurance covers most of the prescription costs
I didn't have to be at that awful appointment alone - I was accompanied by my awesome mother-in-law
the doctors know what they know and can help my kids feel better
my wonderful friend, Beth, is a nutritionist and has already volunteered to help us with Maddie's diet
we will have a life-saving EpiPen in our home
my kids are healthy and happy
we have a loving, supportive extended family who help us all the time
we have the means to buy the special shampoos and lotions we need
I have the time and ability to care for my family
This list goes on and on!
Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble." He didn't say we might have trouble. He promised us we would have trouble, but know what He said next?
"But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33
Best lemonade I ever tasted!
Today we got ourselves a whole basket of lemons. Took Parker and Maddie to the allergist. Parker had been to one in Seattle when he was just a baby. I suspected he'd still have allergy issues (especially here in KY where there is a healthy coat of pollen on everything). Maddie had never been, but I knew that with her eczema (red, itchy skin rash) and reaction to peanut butter (blisters wherever it touches her skin) she'd have some allergies, too.
What I didn't know was that I would:
be in that tiny office for 4 hours and 15 minutes
need 2 other adult women to help me pin my screaming son down while he received about 50 pricks
have to listen to my baby boy repeatedly scream, "Please stop! Please stop! Please stop!"
hear that my kids are both "highly allergic" individuals
learn how to use an EpiPen
need to redecorate the living room (no more down pillows for us!)
have to reconsider my daughter's daily diet to exclude corn, rice, eggs, strawberries, dairy products, peanuts, etc.
bug the landlord about fixing the a/c since the kids can't have their windows open
consider shampooing my poor cat on a weekly basis so I can justify her existence in our home
The list goes on...
But, really, who cares? Seriously, who cares? So they have a slew of allergies. Am I really going to complain? Lemonade, anyone?
I am so blessed that:
Aaron has a job that provides income and insurance
our insurance allows us to see a specialist for a decent rate
our insurance covers most of the prescription costs
I didn't have to be at that awful appointment alone - I was accompanied by my awesome mother-in-law
the doctors know what they know and can help my kids feel better
my wonderful friend, Beth, is a nutritionist and has already volunteered to help us with Maddie's diet
we will have a life-saving EpiPen in our home
my kids are healthy and happy
we have a loving, supportive extended family who help us all the time
we have the means to buy the special shampoos and lotions we need
I have the time and ability to care for my family
This list goes on and on!
Jesus said, "In this world you will have trouble." He didn't say we might have trouble. He promised us we would have trouble, but know what He said next?
"But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33
Best lemonade I ever tasted!
5/26/10
Gestures
It's the little things Parker does that make me the happiest. Small, kind gestures that can erase an entire day of whining from my memory.
Parker crept into our room a few mornings ago, followed by Aaron and Maddie. I was surprised. Typically I am awakened by Maddie's cries.
"Tell mommy what you did," Aaron prodded Parker. Parker looked nervous. Uh-oh. Usually this kind of directive was followed by a confession.
But then, Parker smiled and said, "Maddie woke up and was crying for you. She was saying, 'Momma! Momma!' and you didn't come, so I went in and got her and I sang her Si-i-lent Niiiight and it made her feel all better."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
On a different day we were visiting Aaron's cousin, Jason, his lovely wife, Jen, and their adorable son, Ben (19 months). All the kids were playing in the yard while the parents talked up on the deck. Maddie began playing with a push-toy. Ben ran over to grab it. Parker, alerted by Maddie's screams, rushed over and grabbed Ben's wrists, holding them in the air until the parents intervened.
Now, granted, it could be argued he used unnecessary force with a child who was a year and a half younger, but it warmed my heart to think that he was somehow defending his baby sister.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Last night, Parker was drinking his "bedtime milk" at the kitchen table. He was getting sleepy and ready for his routine. "Mommy," he said between sips, "what are you grateful to God for today?"
I had been rushing around trying to get everyone ready for bed. The question made me pause. (We usually asked this at nighttime once he's been tucked in bed to kick off our prayers.) I sat next to him and told him I was thankful for the food He gave us today, for Daddy - who is such a great daddy, for the beautiful day He made, and for Parker and Maddie.
"What are you thankful for?" I asked him.
"You."
Wow. In one word, he made my entire day.
Parker crept into our room a few mornings ago, followed by Aaron and Maddie. I was surprised. Typically I am awakened by Maddie's cries.
"Tell mommy what you did," Aaron prodded Parker. Parker looked nervous. Uh-oh. Usually this kind of directive was followed by a confession.
But then, Parker smiled and said, "Maddie woke up and was crying for you. She was saying, 'Momma! Momma!' and you didn't come, so I went in and got her and I sang her Si-i-lent Niiiight and it made her feel all better."
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
On a different day we were visiting Aaron's cousin, Jason, his lovely wife, Jen, and their adorable son, Ben (19 months). All the kids were playing in the yard while the parents talked up on the deck. Maddie began playing with a push-toy. Ben ran over to grab it. Parker, alerted by Maddie's screams, rushed over and grabbed Ben's wrists, holding them in the air until the parents intervened.
Now, granted, it could be argued he used unnecessary force with a child who was a year and a half younger, but it warmed my heart to think that he was somehow defending his baby sister.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Last night, Parker was drinking his "bedtime milk" at the kitchen table. He was getting sleepy and ready for his routine. "Mommy," he said between sips, "what are you grateful to God for today?"
I had been rushing around trying to get everyone ready for bed. The question made me pause. (We usually asked this at nighttime once he's been tucked in bed to kick off our prayers.) I sat next to him and told him I was thankful for the food He gave us today, for Daddy - who is such a great daddy, for the beautiful day He made, and for Parker and Maddie.
"What are you thankful for?" I asked him.
"You."
Wow. In one word, he made my entire day.
5/23/10
A bad mom
What makes one "a bad mom?"
This is a difficult question. There are but a few obvious answers: abuse, neglect, torture...
My definition has changed over the years. I misjudged many a mommies before I became one. There were the mommies with filthy shoe-less babies, with screaming babies, with candy-eating babies, with sagging diapers babies, etc. I estimated that all of these mommies were somehow incompetent, until I became that mom. Then, there were excus...I mean, explanations for those seemingly irresponsible parenting choices.
I continue to make choices that some might deem questionable. And today the blog is my confessional. I read another mom's blog. Did you know she actually posted a video of her baby chewing on a cord? I laughed out loud. I thought, it's not just me! My kids LOVE cords and wires. So I let them chew on computer cords [that aren't plugged in]. Maddie likes to wear them as necklaces. There, I wrote it! Call CPS if you must!
Know what else? I let Parker carry around a real tape measure that could drop on his toes or cut his finger. I warn him, of course, but seriously, it wouldn't be the end of the world. He loves having the "real thing." I also let him climb fences. I let Maddie cut her food with *gasp* a real butter knife!
I love my kids and supervise them well. I know you moms and dads reading this do the same. But humor me and post your own "confessions," will you?
This is a difficult question. There are but a few obvious answers: abuse, neglect, torture...
My definition has changed over the years. I misjudged many a mommies before I became one. There were the mommies with filthy shoe-less babies, with screaming babies, with candy-eating babies, with sagging diapers babies, etc. I estimated that all of these mommies were somehow incompetent, until I became that mom. Then, there were excus...I mean, explanations for those seemingly irresponsible parenting choices.
I continue to make choices that some might deem questionable. And today the blog is my confessional. I read another mom's blog. Did you know she actually posted a video of her baby chewing on a cord? I laughed out loud. I thought, it's not just me! My kids LOVE cords and wires. So I let them chew on computer cords [that aren't plugged in]. Maddie likes to wear them as necklaces. There, I wrote it! Call CPS if you must!
Know what else? I let Parker carry around a real tape measure that could drop on his toes or cut his finger. I warn him, of course, but seriously, it wouldn't be the end of the world. He loves having the "real thing." I also let him climb fences. I let Maddie cut her food with *gasp* a real butter knife!
I love my kids and supervise them well. I know you moms and dads reading this do the same. But humor me and post your own "confessions," will you?
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