can't remember when

Can't remember when I last posted and I'm too distracted to care. I don't mean to sound like a whiner today but it's one of those days. I am fortunate to have an amazing family and job I love, so please don't take this as me being ungrateful.

I'm just so frustrated. I feel like I try to do everything "right" in terms of being a parent. From the obsessively organic food during my pregnancy to the no VOC paint in the nursery to the organic cotton blankets - I feel like I've done everything in my power to keep my baby safe from harm. And now as he's a toddler, I still go to extreme lengths to ensure he's got a happy, healthy environment. A loving sitter when my husband and I aren't around, stimulating natural toys without the buzz of TV, healthy diet, and plenty of enriching classes and play dates outside our home. Lots and lots of fresh air and love and kisses.

It's not perfect, he's two. It's hard sometimes and we do our best to stay patient and loving. I read and read some more so I can (try to) be informed about the best possible ways to handle challenging situations that arise.

But there hasn't been an article out there to address what I'm feeling now.

Our sweet little baby has some challenges, beyond what other two year olds do. We had him evaluated this week and unfortunately my concerns were confirmed. Intensified. Magnified.

And it just brings me back to this frustration. Guilt. More frustration. Was there something else I could have, should have done? Is this my fault?

As public as I am with this blog, there are some things that we are private about, so I'm not ready to go into details. Yes, E will be fine and there's no life-threatening conditions to speak of. We're addressing his situation and moving forward to help him. It's just so frustrating. We do everything we can to make his life as wonderful as possible, but in creeps this unknown...

It's that much more annoying when there are so many people that thoughtlessly go about parenting and take their child's development for granted.

The snow is falling and I hear my beautiful boy stirring. Time for a walk in the quiet, gentle snow.

Love for Kai

I'm grateful for my own baby's health, despite the commings and goings of colds or teething issues. But I'm thinking about one of my students in the preschool. Poor thing has been hospitalized, and hopefully, she'll be back on track in a month or so. It's easy to take good health for granted. It's sad to think about such a sweet, energetic little girl being pricked and prodded and the worry that must come along with it for her family.

Please send your warm wishes and love to this family, especially as the holidays approach. And remember to hug your own little one. Kai's mommy has a great blog - please visit it and send your thoughts to the family when you get a chance at my unstill life.

am I dreaming? toddler sleep issues strike

My wonderfully sound sleeping baby has had two brutal nights of toddler sleep regression. Please tell me this is a bad dream!

Now, I know there are some people that may be rooting for this news from me. After all, my kiddo started sleeping through the night at 2 months and never turned back. You might be thinking "Ha! Finally!" I get it, we've been very fortunate in the sleep department. But now this. 

A 5 a.m.wake up call. Seriously? Doesn't he know I am overseeing a HUGE special event this weekend and I need to sleep?

And what to do?

I'm sure we did EVERYTHING wrong in our sleepy haze. Well, we tried to provide comfort, let him settle down, and put him back in bed. After several unsuccessful attempts, we calmly told him (from outside his door) he needed to do "night nights" because it was still dark.

And then we did the unthinkable. We let him cry.

I stood outside his door as he cried, yelled, banged, pulled on the door, and whimpered, begging for us to comfort him. It felt wrong. I knew it was wrong, letting my baby cry like that. I felt like we were punishing him because he couldn't sleep. We've been such loving parents to him. He must be crushed to think we turned on him when he needed comfort. I feel HORRIBLE about this.

But I had all those obnoxious, well-meaning voices in my head saying "he's going to have to learn he has to stay in bed". I hate myself for not trusting my own instincts.

We know our baby. We've worked hard to establish a loving, trusting relationship with him. Not to mention happy, safe, relaxing sleep routines.

Naturally, I turned to the internet to see if other people have experienced this with their toddlers (he'll be two next month) and what potentially causes this. Here's what I gleaned from my "research":

Maybe he's too little to be in a bed. For his safety, we had to take one side off the crib a couple of months ago and replace it with a rail because he was trying to climb out. But some people say toddlers lack the self-control to stay put once they realize they can get out. I don't think this is the problem. At least, not yet.

Maybe he's hitting a milestone. Some sites suggest that when babies are focused on a new skill (like younger babies before they learn to crawl or walk), their sleep patterns regress. I had heard of this before and this could make sense since he's starting to talk. Maybe he's just so revved up that he can't unwind.

Maybe he's having bad dreams. Toddlers' memories get stronger so they can replay images in their heads and remember dreams. He's not in a scary environment, but then, remembering the neighbors dog jumping up on him or our cat chasing the local fox might seem pretty scary to him. This bad dream explanation would make sense since his afternoon nap is cut short and he is waking between 5-6 a.m.

Maybe he's cutting his 2-year molars. YIKES! The WHAT? Yeah, somehow I didn't get the memo on this one and wasn't smart enough to put two and two together. He's been drooling alot and I thought I saw some little bumps around his chin a few days ago. Why didn't I realize that was a rash from the drool? Then today at the store, he bit his snack and winced, then stuck his finger in his mouth. Yeah, I'm thinking this is what the problem is.

So there we were. Cliche ignorant, tired parents debating what to do and failing miserably. I feel sick to my stomach about this - him screaming and crying in pain. I should have trusted my gut to comfort him.  Here are more reasons not to let your toddler "cry it out":

-You have to de-sensitize yourself to your baby's cries.
-You have to ignore your instincts as a parent. Why would we want to do that again? To follow inaccurate theories from people 50 years ago?
-You potentially overlook health issues or illness (in our case teething).
-He's got two years of great sleep habits under his belt, so this is just a temporary sleep disturbance. Figure out the cause and address it. Making him cry will not improve things if the problem is physical. In effect, you'll be punishing him for waking that is out of his control and losing sleep over it as he cries.
-He'll start to fear going to sleep because it will no longer feel like a safe, peaceful environment. (This will then impact naps and betimes.)

New game plan: Wake up as soon as he does, no matter how early. Rock, snuggle, and sing. Hope that he falls asleep in my arms and that I fall asleep, too. Hope that he forgives us.

puttin' the smack down



"I would never throw these books across the room, mom."

If you were wondering why my posts have been a little sparse lately, it has something to do with the recent battles going on around here. No, not the ones between my husband and me when we both want to lick the brownie beater. Something far more difficult to reconcile...

Seems our little peanut is becoming his own man. This transformation, apparently, is going to begin with smacking and throwing things.

It's not exactly a newsflash, but no, our nearly 20 month old can't communicate very well. He's got some token words and signs down pat and he's eagerly learning more. But when he has a passionate yearning to accomplish something or figure something out and he CAN'T, all hell breaks loose. Sounds familiar?

Luckily, he knows how to ask for "alp". Usually accompanied with desperation in his voice, "alp" is cried while desperately signing. When he asks for "alp", it's great. But other other times, anger gets the better of him and all he wants to do is throw or smack things out of frustration.

Which leads me into the next aspect of his frustration: authority. Fresh out of infancy, my toddler is eager to do things his way. On his time table. Usually he can be coaxed or distracted into compliance. Singing songs, making silly faces or weird noises, asking him to make animal sounds, or breaking out a long lost toy will all distract him. Providing choices is empowering to him as well. But alas, these are not foolproof nor always practical ways to avoid a meltdown. It's exhausting!

Just when I thought I had the whole 'calm baby thing' down pat, my little guy has to go and smack me. Sigh.

So what to do? React sharply by yelling? That could just encourage him to get a rise (and negative attention) from me. Which probably means more smacking in the future.

Give a time out? That may send a message that he's unlovable when he's upset. And he would be totally baffled as to why mommy - loving mommy - wants him to cry all alone with no comfort. Leave him alone when he's already frustrated and can't communicate why? It seems cruel.

But then, I know with my preschoolers time outs occasionally (very rarely) are necessary. It does help older kids know that sometimes they need some personal space to cool off and calm down. Consequences and limits are important to help children feel secure, especially in a large group setting. Time out is never used as a source of embarrassment, but a way for a child to gather his or her thoughts and approach a conflict from a new direction. But my 20 month old can't possibly get all that.

Ignore the smacking and throwing? Well clearly this option makes me a permissive pushover. And doesn't help teach him the behaviors that we desire - not to hit or throw things!

Add to the confusion that it's okay to hit a drum or throw a ball. Some things are for hitting and throwing, not others. This confusion explains why my tot is going around the house (and the yard) hitting and throwing things of all shapes and sizes, then looking back at me with a questioning glance. "Can I hit this mom?"

More sighs.

So, there's my dilemma. And probably the same dilemma of all parents of toddlers around the globe. I'm wrestling with what to do about gently correcting behavior in a loving but serious, meaningful way. I want to model empathy so that he knows he is respected and loved no mater what. (No, I don't think that is fluffy or a bunch of bunk.) I don't want to make a "mistake" in these early stages of discipline even though I know there's no easy answer or quick fix. Besides, I know I've already made lots of mistakes and more are on the way. C'mon: screwing up the consistency of his baby food puree is WAY more forgivable then screwing up his foundation of positive discipline.



This is going to end badly. One of us will cry.



After all, no one wants to end up with a Bratty, Ungrateful, Unruly, Little Giant.

So I am committed to trying a combination of things because hey, this parenting gig is all about trial and error. One thing is for sure, he's too small for time outs. I'm not sure that's a route I ever want to go after researching it more thoroughly. It can set up a power struggle which is not what I want to do. Here's an interesting article I read on the topic. What do you think?

For now, I'll keep taking my licks in stride. And savoring the kisses and snuggles whenever I can get them.

first hair cut!

Pre-hair cut...note the adorable whispies sticking out everywhere.

Wow, what a big kid. At 19 months my little shnookie got his first hair cut. He looks so grown up! Daddy was all too eager to do the deed. We sat outside for the big 'do so I'd like to think some little bird is lining her nest with locks E's silky blond hair.

If he could talk, I think he'd say "I have a bad feeling about this..."

Mom, dad, what's that snipping sound?

Little guy, hair cut complete!

Our baby is growing up too fast!

sweet Dre's story



Notice Dre squished on the left, unwilling to give up his spot!

I've been caring for Dre for my entire adult life. Dre (named after Doctor Dre, the rapper) found me the way so many strays seem to find their rightful owners. I made the difficult decision to have him put down today, so I'd like to share his story with you.

When I came home from England after a 6-month study abroad during college, I found that my dear friends had taken him in as a coming home gift - complete with his well-suited name. He was wandering around the neighborhood, apparently left behind by some college guys that moved out. He was an unexpected but welcome gift. I loved him right away.

Dre and Cha-Chi, the brothers

He was a beautiful, long-haired "Maine Coon" cat, so beautiful that people would instinctively call him a "her". His silky charcoal gray fur and light, lime-colored eyes were striking. My husband and I always wanted to stroke his softest belly fur, but that was forbidden. After all, he had his reputation to keep up.

He always had some fight in him. Plenty of feisty spirit. I loved that about him. He had been abandoned but his spirit was never broken. He was so glad to be alive. Even during the most recent blizzard, he would race out the front door to smell the snow, feel it on his paws, and let it melt into his fur.

During the warm months he would join me in the garden. He would stretch out on the walk, roll around in the dirt, and quietly stalk the birds. And the pesky grass eating, well, that was a-given.

I grew to love and respect him that much more when, in his old age, our son was born. And still, Dre was tolerant and patient. E would shake the rocker as hard as he could just to get a rise from Dre (while Dre was trying to sleep). There were wet kisses on Dre's furry belly and fluffy tail grabs, but Dre kept his cool. Since our other cat doesn't let E get near him, Dre was E's first little friend. I doubt E will remember him, but I'm glad we have photographs.

Maybe the saddest part of his passing is that Dre knew so much about me. Dre lived through my party years, the single years, the traveling years, the broke years, the years with a dog, the years with another cat, the years with the live-in boyfriend turned husband, numerous moves, and the arrival of our baby boy. He could always just roll with life.

He knew me. He witnessed many highs and lows in my life. And he loved me unconditionally. Pets are amazing like that. They forgive us and love us no matter what. I guess I should take that profound lesson for all that it's worth.

So, if there's a kitty heaven, or a heaven at all, Dre is having blast. I'm sure he's prancing in fresh snowfall and chasing the heavenly birds. We will miss you, Dre. You were (and still) are loved.