life with a new baby
Posts tagged patience
In need of a pause button
Jul 28th
Hmmmmm. So it’s been a while since I’ve updated the look of my blog. You see, I have this sweet little elf chasing me around all day long… he’s rather charming and quite endearing, and I’m totally addicted to him, so he gets all of my time and attention. I don’t mind it at all, but it means that I am forever behind on the housework and other things I need to get done!
Well, I actually MADE time and am now working on an upgrade for my blog. New look and stuff. I think y’all will like it.
Not sure when I’ll actually get around to FINISHING it and getting it all up and running. A pause button would be nice. You know, that way I can just pause life… not miss a moment of my son’s time but still be able to get everything done that needs to be done. (I’m not the only parent with this having-very-little-if-any-free-time dilemma, am I?) Plus, a pause button would be nice during Nathan’s super cute days. The days when he’s all “I love you, Mommy!” and cuddly and stuff. Except for his impish days… I’m not particularly fond of them!
Speaking of impish, my poor child is mildly sick today. Thankfully, it’s mild though. It seems like every time I get him around other kids, HE GETS SICK. Church, playgrounds, play dates… it’s enough to drive a parent insane. You know, when we went up to Michigan a couple weeks ago, I was very careful to clean the tables, booster seats, etc with my handy Lysol wipes. I kept his hands sanitized and was ever vigilant about those pesky germs. And even with all that travelling, he did not get sick.
EVEN AFTER LICKING THE BOTTOM OF HIS SHOE.
That’s right. On the way home to Tennessee, I turned around and my child had his tongue firmly planted on the bottom of his shoe. The very same shoes he wore into BATHROOMS and walked on HOTEL FLOORS with. When I saw he was licking the bottom of his shoe, I shooed him away from it and said shoes were yucky and not meant to be licked.
He left a tongue-print on the bottom of his shoe that took forever to dry. Not that I care about saliva drying time, but the point is that he was totally NOM NOMing all over his shoe, to the point that I am convinced he salivated more than normal. Hence, the long-lasting tongue print.
So anyway, even after all that, my child did not get sick.
HE DIDN’T GET SICK FROM FLOOR GERMS. Nasty, yucky, bottom-of-shoe germs.
But I take him to church on Sunday, and he’s around other kids and WHAM. Kids are so gross sometimes and I truly wish their parents would keep an actively sick child away from other children. (I totally get that sometimes one can be contagious before showing any symptoms of being sick. That can’t be helped. But what CAN be helped is KEEPING your OBVIOUSLY sick child HOME!)
I volunteered to work in the church nursery occasionally. I haven’t started yet… and I’m worried how I will react when parents drop of a child who is hacking all over the place, spreading their sick sneezing mucus throughout the room. I guess I will just have to cross that bridge when I get there… and pray God gives me the grace to handle the situation proactively yet with discretion!
Working my way back to pre-baby size
Jul 13th
I can’t remember if I’ve posted this picture before… As you know, I don’t post that many pictures of myself, but I’m thinking maybe I will post more once I get down to my weight-loss goal. You know, once I’m not so embarrassed to be seen anymore!
By the way, the weight loss is going GREAT. I have been working out like a beast (think 4x a week… working out so hard that my face turns beet red and sweat flies off of me in all directions!) for the past four months… I’ve lost 24 pounds and I’ve gone down three dress-sizes and counting! It’s hard work but it’s totally paying off. I push myself as hard as I can. I don’t shy away from the burn. Instead, I welcome it. I always say that if you don’t feel the burn, you’re not working hard enough! I work out so hard that it’s impossible for me to carry on a conversation. I’ve also modified what I eat as well… I’ve really cut back on processed foods and I’ve added more vegetables, fruits, lean meats, whole grains, etc. Basically, I’m just working out really hard and eating healthier. My motivation is not only for my health, but I want to be around for a while for my little boy.
Plus, looking better isn’t all that bad either!
Stubborn is as stubborn does
Jul 11th
My kid is so stubborn.
I mean, really, really stubborn. And strong-willed. Determined. Steadfast.
Just a few days ago, I heard one of my cats meow in exasperation. I slinked through the kitchen and caught Nathan in the living room, throwing tufts of cat fur into the air and DANCING IN IT while clapping his hands. I saw my cat Andrew hunkered wide-eyed in the corner. He looked as if he thought he was naked.
I bet he felt naked with all the fur Nathan had pulled out and was DANCING in.
“NO! Nathan, that’s not nice! You don’t hurt the cats… Time Out!” I said as I grabbed his cat-fur covered hands. I steered him into his Time Out Corner and set the timer for three minutes (the amount of time Nathan gets in time out depends on his infraction. Milder infractions get him two minutes). When three minutes was up, I returned to Nathan and squatted down on his level.
“Do you understand why Mommy put you in time out?” I asked.
He looked at his hands.
“You pulled out the cat’s fur. You hurt the cat. No touching the cats, Nathan.”
“I’m sorry,” he replied as he did the sign for sorry across his chest.
“Nathan, I need you to say ‘No cat,’” I said.
Nathan mumbled something unintelligible.
“If you want out of time out, you need to say ‘No cat,’” I prodded. Nathan crossed his arms over his chest.
“NO!” he yelled.
“Okay then, you made the choice to have more time out,” I replied. I set the timer for another minute. When the timer went off, I repeated the process.
Again.
And again.
And again.
And again…
In fact, I repeated the process a grand total of THIRTY SEVEN times. That means that THIRTY SEVEN times in a row, I asked Nathan if he was ready to say “No cat.” And THIRTY SEVEN times in a row, Nathan obstinately refused. Until finally, a grand total of FORTY minutes later (including the three minutes for his first time out) and with tears streaming down his cheeks and snot dripping out his nose, he begrudgingly gave me what I asked for.
“No cat,” he whispered. That’s right. He wouldn’t even speak it. HE WHISPERED IT.
With his arms crossed over his chest and his chin up in the air.
But at least he said it, right? My kid may be stubborn, but his mama is even MORE stubborn. Getting tired of the discipline and giving in is not an option for me… giving in means that Nathan would know that all he needs to do to get his way is put up a fight and eventually I’ll cave. And then? Then I’m left dealing with an A-1 Brat. Not gonna happen in this house. It is my responsibility to prepare this child for life, and letting him have his way teaches him nothing.
Even if it takes THIRTY SEVEN repetitions.
Hey, no one ever said parenthood was easy.
In which Nathan proved to be faster than light
Jul 8th
A few days ago, my mom came over to my house for a visit. When I heard her car outside, I opened the front door and stepped out on the porch to greet her. With my hand still on the doorknob (I hadn’t turned the knob to release it), I closed the door. In the split second it took for me to close the door, I realized I had made a mistake. I needed to go back inside to grab my keys, just in case Nathan locked me out.
Click.
Too late.
Nathan locked the deadbolt. WHILE MY HAND WAS STILL HOLDING THE KNOB. I hadn’t let go of it, so the door had not even latched closed. He was that fast.
My heart dropped down into my stomach.
Nathan giggled impishly behind the door.
My mom saw the look on my face and jumped out of her car. “Oh no!” she said. “Did he lock you out?” I didn’t even have to answer. I’m sure my blanched face was answer enough. Meanwhile, Nathan stood on the other side of the door, giggling as I peered through the glass.
“HI, MOMMY!” he laughed.
“NATHAN! Open the door, please,” I said through gritted teeth. Nathan flung the curtains over the door’s window to either side. “Mommy! Hello! How are you?” he sang. Then he clapped his hands while spinning around in a circle.
“I want you to open the door, that’s how I am!” I responded. “Nathan, turn the lock on the door the other way, please.”
Nathan jiggled the deadbolt, but to no avail. He didn’t understand what he had done. All he knew was that he now had the ENTIRE HOUSE TO HIMSELF. And what does a two-year-old who now has the ENTIRE HOUSE TO HIMSELF do? THEY RUN. They run around like a crazy little cracked-out bull. I watched hopelessly through the window as he tore through the living room and kitchen. Then I heard his little feet stomping their merry way into my bedroom.
I knocked on the door.
I heard little feet come running.
“Hello?” he said when he reached the door. I knocked again. He knocked back.
“Nathan, open this door please!” I beckoned.
“No please!” he replied as he knocked some more. Then he took off once again. I turned to my mom and asked her to keep an eye on him through the window while I borrowed her cell phone to call my husband.
No answer. Of course. Doesn’t that always happen?
So I did the only other thing I knew to do… I drove to Paul’s grandparents’ house (they live about 2-3 minutes away). I pulled up and saw Paul’s grandfather outside working. I rolled down the window.
“Nathan locked me out. Do you happen to have a spare key?”
He smiled and nodded his head. It was the smile of knowing. The smile of With a kid like yours, how did this not happen sooner? A smile of understanding and empathy. I wondered if the same thing had ever happened to him. I made a mental note to ask sometime. He walked inside and reemerged after a couple of minutes with the spare key.
“THANK YOU!” I said as I was leaving. He smiled that knowing smile.
I raced back to the house, heart pounding in my chest, praying to God that my child didn’t drown himself in the toilet. My mom was still standing on the porch. Somehow, she had managed to keep Nathan fairly interested in her conversation by enticing him to stay near the door by dangling one of his favorite outside toys in front of the window.
“Is he okay?” I called as I raced to the front door.
“He’s just fine,” my mom responded. She was so calm. “I just kept him by the door. Whenever he ran off, I knocked and he’d come running back.”
“I can’t believe he did this,” I said as I slid the key into the lock.
Click.
Finally, I was inside. My child ran up to me, arms wide open. “Hi, Mommy! Hello!” he called excitedly. He truly didn’t understand what all the hubbub was about. He only did what he’s seen me do time and time again when Paul leaves…. but he still had to be put into timeout because touching the door is off limits.
And this whole story is exactly the reason why he is not allowed to touch the door.
Recent Comments
Aww thanks, Tina, it was good to see you too! I wish I could have talked to you more... I ...
I'm sorry you all had a rough go yesterday, but it was good to see you both :) I have ...
Thank you, I appreciate that. It's so cool to hear people say that we look alike... I've been told there ...
Awww... what really nice photos! You two look so alike, especially with the way you smile.