My little heartsong is growing up right before my eyes. Last week it was bravely sitting on Santa’s knee. This week, Hayden performed in his first ever live concert. His school put on an amazing Christmas concert – with all the actors under 5 years-old! They must be either crazy or absolute saints! I was blown away by how organized it was and how well the whole show turned out. There were a few tears on stage, but every child appeared in the performance (something that the owner of the schools said has never happened)!
Hayden’s class was fourth to perform. We had been prompting him the week before, singing various Christmas songs to try and find out what song he was singing. But he held firm on his resolve to keep it a secret. When the curtains opened and Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree came on, he was in his element. Holding hands and facing his cutie-pie girlfriend, Emily, they bounced and jived to the music while most of the other children stared shell-shocked at the large crowd watching them. Hayden soon caught on that all eyes were on him and started scanning the audience for us. He caught sight of his dad and called out to him as the performance ended.
As they were led off the stage, Hayden broke free and ran over to us. He came and jumped on my lap and gave me a huge hug, pronouncing proudly, “I dance mama!” I hugged him back with my heart swelling for his newfound confidence. I gave him a kiss and then told him to go back and join his class. AND HE DID! He ran right back over to his teachers (another first for the school apparently)!
He breezed through another number, playing a cardboard guitar and swaying to the beat (though a little dude named Carl stole the show with his funky moves). I’ve never laughed so hard! They were all so darn cute!
Hayden is the little guy in the red, just left of centre. (Sorry for the cruddy resolution, but this was taken on my phone!)
Sometimes I’m blown away at how much he’s grown and developed. It seems in the past month that he’s gone from being a shy, unsure toddler to a self-assured, confident pre-schooler. I’m just so darn proud of him.
Showing posts with label toddler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label toddler. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Not just hearing
To keep my sanity and actually get anything done, I often continue cooking dinner or reading blogs while Hayden waxes eloquently in the background. But my bright little boy has realized that mummy is not always very good at multi-tasking. He recognizes now when I'm concentrating on my other task and not on his important news. Now, when he feels that he's not being given his due attention, he holds my cheeks in his little hands and turns me to face him.
"Yook at me mama."
He stares intently at me through long lashes, his face a picture of seriousness.
It's only after he's sure that I'm focused solely on him that he will continue, usually talking very slowly to make sure that I understand every important word that passes his lips.
With this small act, this purposeful touch and look he reminds me how fleeting life is. It won't be long before I have to drag the words from him. Before I'm met with the grunts and shrugs that epitomize the teenage years.
My sweet heartsong, I promise that from now on, I wont just hear you, but I'll listen to you. Every precious word you care to share.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Morning wake up call
As I plodded through my morning ablutions, a dream-tussled toddler shuffled clumsily through the bathroom door. As soon as his sleepy eyes adjusted to the light, he raised his arms in the air in a silent plea to be picked up. He snuggled into my shoulder before holding his hands on either side of my face to give me a kiss. Afterwards, his face wrinkled and he went noodle as a wordless request to get down. He plodded over to the bathroom counter, opened my drawer and pulled out my mouthwash.
"Mummy tinky. Dink dis peas."
Out of the mouths of babes....
"Mummy tinky. Dink dis peas."
Out of the mouths of babes....
Monday, October 13, 2008
And then you are two
My heartsong. My sweet baby heartsong. In less than a month, you will turn two years old and leave all traces of babyhood behind you. Those two years feel like a lifetime for me. Because when you were born, I started a new life too. A life as a mother. And it's been the most amazing journey.
When you entered our lives, you were very angry and unsure of the world. The only place you stopped crying was in the arms of your parents. You hated baths, hated sleeping in a crib, a bassinet or a cradle. You hated loud places or changes in routine. You were super sensitive to everything around you. The world was like a loud, obnoxious disco in your mind. We used to spend close to an hour putting you to sleep only to have a phone ring or a dog bark and startle you awake with a cry. Your smiles and giggles were shy and vastly outnumbered by your tears and wails. What a difference a few years can make.
Now that you are nearly two, you have decided that this world will no longer assault you. Instead, you will conquer it. Without fear. You leap from tall places, climb structures more than triple your height without a hesitation. You run like a deer and shout your exuberance over the rooftops.
You have a natural gift for anything that involves a ball. You can dribble a soccer ball better than your teachers. You've also mastered the art of a drop kick to get that ball airborne. You can hit a baseball when I pitch it to you and whack a golf ball on the ground with amazing accuracy. If you spot golf on TV, you insist on watching and you clap every time they putt it into the hole. You've also started shooting hoops and amaze us all with how skillfully you can toss it through the basket. I have no idea where you get your love of sports. It must be ingrained in you from long-past genes.
You still need a lot of touch to feel comfortable and secure. Every morning, you cry out and ask to come and cuddle in our bed for the last hour of your sleep. You curl yourself into me and are soothed and slumbering within seconds. We weaned a couple of weeks ago and you did fantastic with the adjustment. You still reach down my shirt and grab your sisi's when you are scared, tired or need reassurance. Once in a while, you ask for sisi's but you seem content with my answer that the milk is all gone and don't push for them.
You are a creature of habit. Every morning you ask to go "stays" (downstairs) and once we hit the bottom step, you request your "yogut din" (yogurt drink) and a "taw" (straw). Then you sit quietly on the couch under a blanket watching Big Comfy Couch and Little Bear on TV while you wake up and mummy gets ready fro work.
You make your dad and I laugh all the time. You do funny dances, you tickle us, you run away and drop to your belly, covering your eyes to disappear. You skip and sing and can count to five. Just today, you identified your first correct colour - yeyow. Sometimes you point to mysterious booboos (usually on your fingers) and request a "banday" (bandaid). Once we put it on and give that finger a kiss, you're instantly healed and on your way.
You are incredibly caring and loving. Any time I sneeze or cough, you ask me "K mama?" and will keep asking until I tell you that I'm alright. Then you usually follow it up with "I k?" and I must ask if you are okay or face the same barrage. The other night when I came home in tears, you were nearly beside yourself with worry. Although your dad tried to reassure you that I was fine, you wouldn't quit until I told you myself. Then you offered me a hug to make it better. And you know what, it did.
Your cousin Gage is unequivocally your very best friend. You two are inseparable at school. Gage has taught you to stand up for yourself, to trust others and has helped you to gain confidence in yourself. Gage seems to understand you even when no one else can; He acts as your interpreter sometimes. You guys apply the "monkey see monkey do" philosophy whenever you're together - which usually ends in mischief and fits of giggles. You can't understand how much it warms my heart to see you treat Gage not as a cousin, but as your brother.
You love your Puppy (who you call Salem) and give him about 10 cookies a day. You'd give him a hundred if I let you. You gently put your hands on either side of his face and get yours close enough to kiss him on the nose, all the while whispering secret things to him in a high, song-song voice. You love to let him in and out of the yard and we even play hide and seek with him when Daddy isn't home to find us.
Speaking of hide and seek, it's your all time favourite game right now. It usually starts with you "hiding" in the middle of the floor with your eyes covered. I'll find you, tickle you and then run and hide myself. You stalk around the kitchen like a hunter, gently calling my name and listening for my laughter. You have amazing hearing and can usually pinpoint where I am just by sound. Once you find me, you squeal with delight and run to hide yourself. If you think my hiding place is particularly good, you will huddle in with me and call for daddy or Puppy to find us.
You love to help me. Whether it's putting things in the garbage, pouring ingredients for baking, making me tea, vacuuming, cleaning up your spills, or pulling me out of bed in the morning - you are all too willing to lend a tiny hand. Your teachers at school tell me that you are the most helpful in your class and even clear all the kid's dishes after lunch.
In short, you are a joy. You have your moments, like any toddler, but I spend most days completely enamoured with you. It's hard to believe that it's been two years already. And yet, in those two years of life, you have grown to become a completely different person. I can only imagine what you will be like in another two years.
Every day with you is a blessing. You are my little miracle and I love you more than I can put into words. Happy soon-to-be second birthday my big boy. My big, beautiful, loving boy.
When you entered our lives, you were very angry and unsure of the world. The only place you stopped crying was in the arms of your parents. You hated baths, hated sleeping in a crib, a bassinet or a cradle. You hated loud places or changes in routine. You were super sensitive to everything around you. The world was like a loud, obnoxious disco in your mind. We used to spend close to an hour putting you to sleep only to have a phone ring or a dog bark and startle you awake with a cry. Your smiles and giggles were shy and vastly outnumbered by your tears and wails. What a difference a few years can make.
Now that you are nearly two, you have decided that this world will no longer assault you. Instead, you will conquer it. Without fear. You leap from tall places, climb structures more than triple your height without a hesitation. You run like a deer and shout your exuberance over the rooftops.
You have a natural gift for anything that involves a ball. You can dribble a soccer ball better than your teachers. You've also mastered the art of a drop kick to get that ball airborne. You can hit a baseball when I pitch it to you and whack a golf ball on the ground with amazing accuracy. If you spot golf on TV, you insist on watching and you clap every time they putt it into the hole. You've also started shooting hoops and amaze us all with how skillfully you can toss it through the basket. I have no idea where you get your love of sports. It must be ingrained in you from long-past genes.
You still need a lot of touch to feel comfortable and secure. Every morning, you cry out and ask to come and cuddle in our bed for the last hour of your sleep. You curl yourself into me and are soothed and slumbering within seconds. We weaned a couple of weeks ago and you did fantastic with the adjustment. You still reach down my shirt and grab your sisi's when you are scared, tired or need reassurance. Once in a while, you ask for sisi's but you seem content with my answer that the milk is all gone and don't push for them.
You are a creature of habit. Every morning you ask to go "stays" (downstairs) and once we hit the bottom step, you request your "yogut din" (yogurt drink) and a "taw" (straw). Then you sit quietly on the couch under a blanket watching Big Comfy Couch and Little Bear on TV while you wake up and mummy gets ready fro work.
You make your dad and I laugh all the time. You do funny dances, you tickle us, you run away and drop to your belly, covering your eyes to disappear. You skip and sing and can count to five. Just today, you identified your first correct colour - yeyow. Sometimes you point to mysterious booboos (usually on your fingers) and request a "banday" (bandaid). Once we put it on and give that finger a kiss, you're instantly healed and on your way.
You are incredibly caring and loving. Any time I sneeze or cough, you ask me "K mama?" and will keep asking until I tell you that I'm alright. Then you usually follow it up with "I k?" and I must ask if you are okay or face the same barrage. The other night when I came home in tears, you were nearly beside yourself with worry. Although your dad tried to reassure you that I was fine, you wouldn't quit until I told you myself. Then you offered me a hug to make it better. And you know what, it did.
Your cousin Gage is unequivocally your very best friend. You two are inseparable at school. Gage has taught you to stand up for yourself, to trust others and has helped you to gain confidence in yourself. Gage seems to understand you even when no one else can; He acts as your interpreter sometimes. You guys apply the "monkey see monkey do" philosophy whenever you're together - which usually ends in mischief and fits of giggles. You can't understand how much it warms my heart to see you treat Gage not as a cousin, but as your brother.
You love your Puppy (who you call Salem) and give him about 10 cookies a day. You'd give him a hundred if I let you. You gently put your hands on either side of his face and get yours close enough to kiss him on the nose, all the while whispering secret things to him in a high, song-song voice. You love to let him in and out of the yard and we even play hide and seek with him when Daddy isn't home to find us.
Speaking of hide and seek, it's your all time favourite game right now. It usually starts with you "hiding" in the middle of the floor with your eyes covered. I'll find you, tickle you and then run and hide myself. You stalk around the kitchen like a hunter, gently calling my name and listening for my laughter. You have amazing hearing and can usually pinpoint where I am just by sound. Once you find me, you squeal with delight and run to hide yourself. If you think my hiding place is particularly good, you will huddle in with me and call for daddy or Puppy to find us.
You love to help me. Whether it's putting things in the garbage, pouring ingredients for baking, making me tea, vacuuming, cleaning up your spills, or pulling me out of bed in the morning - you are all too willing to lend a tiny hand. Your teachers at school tell me that you are the most helpful in your class and even clear all the kid's dishes after lunch.
In short, you are a joy. You have your moments, like any toddler, but I spend most days completely enamoured with you. It's hard to believe that it's been two years already. And yet, in those two years of life, you have grown to become a completely different person. I can only imagine what you will be like in another two years.
Every day with you is a blessing. You are my little miracle and I love you more than I can put into words. Happy soon-to-be second birthday my big boy. My big, beautiful, loving boy.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
From bebe to little bird
Hayden has made a huge development leap this week. He's gone from using one word to describe multiple items (bebe = sippy, birdie, blanket, berry) to using full sentences (I did it mama! More pears pees mama.) and parroting any word you throw at him. Suddenly he can make himself understood without frustration and he beams with pride when he masters a new word or sound.
For me it's a bittersweet growth. I'm so delighted that we can have actual conversations and he can easily tell me what he wants. It makes our interactions really full and rewarding. He gets frustrated less and shares more of his world and inner thoughts with me. But at the same time, it makes me realize that my baby is a baby no more. He's got a mind of his own with expressive thoughts about life. He is becoming more independent and adventurous every day.
I think every mother goes through this mourning. Accepting the loss of being the centre of your child's world. Mourning the days when you provided everything for them, food, love, warmth, comfort, security. Suddenly it seems that their eyes are open and they realize that there are other ways to fulfill these needs, including doing it themselves.
I'm determined to squelch my selfish thoughts of keeping him my baby. I remind myself that these verbal skills and independence are wonderful and liberating stepping stones that pave the way to becoming a confident child. Any time I feel that ache for infancy, I have only to hear him declare "I ya you mama" to know that my little baby is blossoming into a wonderful little man; That our nearly two years of unconditional love and attachment parenting have helped him to grow from a demanding, high-needs infant into an courageous, inquisitive and loving toddler.
I ya you too heartsong. I ya you so very much.
For me it's a bittersweet growth. I'm so delighted that we can have actual conversations and he can easily tell me what he wants. It makes our interactions really full and rewarding. He gets frustrated less and shares more of his world and inner thoughts with me. But at the same time, it makes me realize that my baby is a baby no more. He's got a mind of his own with expressive thoughts about life. He is becoming more independent and adventurous every day.
I think every mother goes through this mourning. Accepting the loss of being the centre of your child's world. Mourning the days when you provided everything for them, food, love, warmth, comfort, security. Suddenly it seems that their eyes are open and they realize that there are other ways to fulfill these needs, including doing it themselves.
I'm determined to squelch my selfish thoughts of keeping him my baby. I remind myself that these verbal skills and independence are wonderful and liberating stepping stones that pave the way to becoming a confident child. Any time I feel that ache for infancy, I have only to hear him declare "I ya you mama" to know that my little baby is blossoming into a wonderful little man; That our nearly two years of unconditional love and attachment parenting have helped him to grow from a demanding, high-needs infant into an courageous, inquisitive and loving toddler.
I ya you too heartsong. I ya you so very much.
Friday, August 8, 2008
A cuppa morning rage
A morning person he is not. Most mornings Hayden wakes with a cry and then needs a good 20 minutes of nursing before he’s ready to face any sort of activity. Usually, after his nursies, he will quietly play and pad around upstairs while we both prepare for the day. But now….oh my.
He’s begun to have what I can only describe as fits of rage. If you ask him to do anything that he doesn’t want to (change his bum, get dressed, brush his teeth), he collapses on the floor and screams, wails and goes completely stiff. He refuses to be picked up, doesn’t want you to even touch him. If I pick him up anyways, he will thrash in my arms and repeatedly hit me until I put him back down and he can bury his face into the floor. There is absolutely no reasoning with him or calming him when he gets into this state. And it’s an instant thing. Like an angry switch has been flicked to full power.
These fits usually last about ten minutes and only end when he’s where he wants to be and has exhausted himself. It seems nothing we do shortens them or stops them. When he’s done, he wants to cuddle me and the switch is just as abruptly flicked back.
I’ve never seen this kind of behaviour in a baby before. Never seen a child who could go from one extreme to the other in such a short time and for such random reasons. I have to admit it sort of frightens me. He never lashes out at others during his fits (unless we interfere with him), but he’s so very angry. Does anyone have any suggestions? Any similar experiences? Why is my baby so full of anger?
He’s begun to have what I can only describe as fits of rage. If you ask him to do anything that he doesn’t want to (change his bum, get dressed, brush his teeth), he collapses on the floor and screams, wails and goes completely stiff. He refuses to be picked up, doesn’t want you to even touch him. If I pick him up anyways, he will thrash in my arms and repeatedly hit me until I put him back down and he can bury his face into the floor. There is absolutely no reasoning with him or calming him when he gets into this state. And it’s an instant thing. Like an angry switch has been flicked to full power.
These fits usually last about ten minutes and only end when he’s where he wants to be and has exhausted himself. It seems nothing we do shortens them or stops them. When he’s done, he wants to cuddle me and the switch is just as abruptly flicked back.
I’ve never seen this kind of behaviour in a baby before. Never seen a child who could go from one extreme to the other in such a short time and for such random reasons. I have to admit it sort of frightens me. He never lashes out at others during his fits (unless we interfere with him), but he’s so very angry. Does anyone have any suggestions? Any similar experiences? Why is my baby so full of anger?
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
This and that: 1st Edition
Life is too crazy lately for my regular rambling, so I thought I'd update everyone in a quick bullety form.
- Thank you to everyone for their well wishes for my dad. He's recovering really well and got a good health check from the doctors earlier this week. It really was the best care scenario: his heart attack was big enough that it made both the doctors and my dad stand up and take notice, but not so much that it caused irreparable damage. Hopefully now that his arteries are all clear again, he'll be around for a long while to come!
- I got my first comment on this blog from someone who isn't a family member or good friend. I was filled with this wonderful feeling of connection and also a slight panic as I realized that my words are out there for anyone to read. It's a weird combination. I'm proud that people who don't know me find my musings interesting enough to read. And somehow it's easier to post to people I don't know and don't have to answer to. Lord knows Mama Mugs lets me know if I've stepped over any lines - and it goes way past a mere comment on here!
- We've finally finished our vegetable garden! It may have taken us two months to get it made, but now the fence is up, the soil is tilled and mixed with compost and I even have some veggies planted. All that we have left is to plant the celery and a few odd veggies...and I have to work at keeping everything alive. That's the real challenge!
- Hayden has become what we now call "Horrible Hayden." It seems that along with all the other milestones, he's entering the terrible two stage early. He has his daddy's quick temper. When you piss him off (which isn't hard to do) he will either throw himself to the floor and flail around while screaming like a banshee or with a very determined look, he'll wind up and smack you. This happens at least five times a day. Thank goodness he's so darn cute and has long periods of tender loveliness or I'd go crazy.
- My nephew turned two last weekend. That kid is going to be a rocket scientist. At two years old, he's talking in full sentences, making jokes and solving problems. He can sing the alphabet song and count to ten. I don't know what my sister feeds him, but I'll bet it's some sort of mental steroid. How else does a kid get that smart so young?!
- For said birthday, I made my little Gagers a little something special. I wrote and illustrated a book about his adventures with his dog and then made the t-shirt and cape that plays into the story. I was pretty darn proud of myself. Except when I tried to put the iron-on letter on the shirt and screwed up twice and then had to buy another shirt and a whole new pack of transfer sheets and start all over again. Argh.
- Storms here suck! I'm so used to the mild pitter-patter rain storms we'd have in Ottawa. Now I'm in southern Ontario where every time a drop of rain falls, they issue a tornado warning.
- I love spray-on sunscreen! I bought some of that continuous spray stuff and don't think I'll ever go back to the sloppy goo of regular sunscreen. This stuff is so fast to apply that even Horrible Hayden doesn't have time to complain before I'm done. Plus I can get the weird crevices easily (like when he ventures stark naked into the yard...don't want his little member getting sunburned!).
Monday, May 5, 2008
A change of heart
I’ve noticed in the past few weeks that my love for Hayden has changed.
When I found out that I was pregnant, I loved him for what he was: a symbol of our love, a tiny little person growing inside of me.
When he was born, I loved him because he completed me. He made me a mother. He was a miracle of perfection and stole my heart. I developed that feral mother need to protect him against all odds. He gave my life a whole new purpose and changed me in ways I’m still discovering.
But now, as he nears his year and a half mark, I find myself loving him not just for what he is (my perfect, wonderful son), but for who he is. His personality has come shining through in the past few months. He shows me his sense of humour by performing funny dance moves just to make me laugh. He shows me uncanny patience as I try to understand his new words. He shows me tender love by coming undone if he accidentally hurts me. He shows his wonder of the world by proudly bringing me rocks, worms or ladybugs. He shows incredible intelligence as he quietly figures out how everything works: from the TV remote to flowers in the yard. He shows his exuberance by bellowing out his favourite words and running to me with arms outstretched. He shows his gentle nature with his hugs and pats for Salem.
He is truly becoming a little person. Not just my son Hayden, but this independent little boy with a mind of his own. And I truly love it. I find myself getting up early on my days to sleep in just so that I can bask in his wonder of the world just a few minutes longer. I don’t want to miss a moment of these magical toddler years where he begins to discover who he is.
Before I had children, I couldn’t imagine how parents could love their children any more than during the completely dependant newborn phase. The sheer innocence of a mind not yet tarnished and the tiny pinkness of those miniature features. But now I know better. I know the satisfaction of raising a child who has the strength and support to become his own person. I know the joy of watching them learn and the pride as they discover a new skill.
I know now that my little heartsong has taken my tune and is now adding his own lyrics, making his own masterpiece…I can’t wait to hear the final score.
When I found out that I was pregnant, I loved him for what he was: a symbol of our love, a tiny little person growing inside of me.
When he was born, I loved him because he completed me. He made me a mother. He was a miracle of perfection and stole my heart. I developed that feral mother need to protect him against all odds. He gave my life a whole new purpose and changed me in ways I’m still discovering.
But now, as he nears his year and a half mark, I find myself loving him not just for what he is (my perfect, wonderful son), but for who he is. His personality has come shining through in the past few months. He shows me his sense of humour by performing funny dance moves just to make me laugh. He shows me uncanny patience as I try to understand his new words. He shows me tender love by coming undone if he accidentally hurts me. He shows his wonder of the world by proudly bringing me rocks, worms or ladybugs. He shows incredible intelligence as he quietly figures out how everything works: from the TV remote to flowers in the yard. He shows his exuberance by bellowing out his favourite words and running to me with arms outstretched. He shows his gentle nature with his hugs and pats for Salem.
He is truly becoming a little person. Not just my son Hayden, but this independent little boy with a mind of his own. And I truly love it. I find myself getting up early on my days to sleep in just so that I can bask in his wonder of the world just a few minutes longer. I don’t want to miss a moment of these magical toddler years where he begins to discover who he is.
Before I had children, I couldn’t imagine how parents could love their children any more than during the completely dependant newborn phase. The sheer innocence of a mind not yet tarnished and the tiny pinkness of those miniature features. But now I know better. I know the satisfaction of raising a child who has the strength and support to become his own person. I know the joy of watching them learn and the pride as they discover a new skill.
I know now that my little heartsong has taken my tune and is now adding his own lyrics, making his own masterpiece…I can’t wait to hear the final score.
Friday, April 25, 2008
The words of an angel
So Hayden is coming up on his 18 month doctor's visit. At every appointment she asks me how many words Hayden has. And every time I fumble and spit out a random number that probably isn't even close. So I decided I'd be more proactive for this next appointment and write down all of his words. In the last three days, I've come up with over 60 of them! For your entertainment, I thought I'd post my Top 10 favourite Hayden originals, complete with translation!
- Peeboo (peekaboo)
- Feh fi (French fry) <- Please don't ask why my baby knows what a french fry is!
- Coo (cool)
- Doo (dude) <- 3 and 4 usually go together!
- Ada (all done)
- Moe (more) <- This one always makes me think of a particular Simpson's episode
- Waygo? (Where’d it go?)
- Bebebes (blueberries) <- That's a hard one
- HEEPO (hippo) <- This one is always said at full volume with an emphasis on the O!
- Cracka (cracker) <- Just like a little white Chris Rock!
Take me out from the ball game!
So last night Adam had a baseball practice and Hayden and I decided to tag along. I had visions of Hayden cheering his daddy on from the sidelines and playing on swings and slides once the novelty rubbed off.
Umm...no.
The daimond was at the university, which strangely doesn't have a play structure anywhere near it. (What do these college kids do for fun? Aren't they about 10 when they graduate high school now?!) So all there was to play with there were bits of garbage and a large, dangerously balanced pile of benches. Not exactly perfect for a toddler. Hayden constantly wanted to run out onto the field to hug his daddy and would scream like a banshee if I held him back. We lasted about an hour before I announced to Adam that practice was over. At that point Hayden was a screaming, thrashing mess in my arms and I was covered with boogers and dirt and water.
Lesson learned: my toddler finds baseball almost as exciting as I do. Next time, we'll just stay home.
Umm...no.
The daimond was at the university, which strangely doesn't have a play structure anywhere near it. (What do these college kids do for fun? Aren't they about 10 when they graduate high school now?!) So all there was to play with there were bits of garbage and a large, dangerously balanced pile of benches. Not exactly perfect for a toddler. Hayden constantly wanted to run out onto the field to hug his daddy and would scream like a banshee if I held him back. We lasted about an hour before I announced to Adam that practice was over. At that point Hayden was a screaming, thrashing mess in my arms and I was covered with boogers and dirt and water.
Lesson learned: my toddler finds baseball almost as exciting as I do. Next time, we'll just stay home.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
I hate molars!
That's it, I've had it with teeth! First my own have decided to deteriorate for the first time in 20 years. I have a cavity in one of my bottom molars. This forces me to face my greatest unreasonable fear: the dentist. I seriously get panic attacks at night thinking of the drilling and needles and scraping. Ugh.
And now, Mr. Hayden has decided it would be a good time to get some of his own molars. For those of you with toothless kids, count your blessings. Molars suck. My baby who used to sleep through the night peacefully is now getting up at all hours to scream and chew and gnaw on various parts of my body (hands, nursies, cheek, whatever piece of skin he can slip between those razor teeth). These days I feel like he's living on Motrin and I'm running on fumes. All I want to do right now is go back to bed. Just a few hours of uninterrupted sleep please!
Molars suck. Give me a self-refilling shark smile any day.
And now, Mr. Hayden has decided it would be a good time to get some of his own molars. For those of you with toothless kids, count your blessings. Molars suck. My baby who used to sleep through the night peacefully is now getting up at all hours to scream and chew and gnaw on various parts of my body (hands, nursies, cheek, whatever piece of skin he can slip between those razor teeth). These days I feel like he's living on Motrin and I'm running on fumes. All I want to do right now is go back to bed. Just a few hours of uninterrupted sleep please!
Molars suck. Give me a self-refilling shark smile any day.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Mother knows best.
I've discovered as of late, that I am an unconventional mama by western standards. Hayden is now almost a year and a half and he still nurses. It's trickled down to a few times a day now that I'm back at work, but we still enjoy some peaceful, cuddly moments in the morning and evening.
Now I'm perfectly fine with this arrangement. It allows me to eat what I want without gaining weight, gives Hayden some extra nutrition and fat and it gives us a special bonding time. What disturbs me about it is society's perception of our daily ritual. Somehow, those of us north of the equator have established bizarre guidelines for rearing our children. Strange ideas like: children must sleep alone, boys can only play with "boy toys," babies have to learn to self-soothe by crying themselves to sleep, nursing should only occur for the first year - tops. All very foreign ideals to me.
Hayden slept in our bed for the first year of his life. He didn't sleep one night in a crib until after his first birthday. And I don't regret a single minute of it. He now confidently falls asleep and sleeps 12 hours a night in his own bed without needing me. I think that knowing I'm always there for him when he needs me gives him the reassurance that he can do it on his own.
And as far as nursing past a year - it's the most wonderful thing to nurse a toddler. I was one of those naysayers before I had Hayden. I thought that if a child could walk up and ask for nursing, that child was too old to get it. But now I understand. I understand that with a busy boy, it gives you 10 minutes to just rest and cuddle. I understand that when owies happen, nursing is the best way to make it better. I understand that children have their own cycles and their own needs and you just have to listen. They will tell you when they're ready for a change.
The strangest idea of all for me is our stereotyping of what little boys and girls can play with. I got more than a few sideways glances when I bought Hayden his own kitchen. It didn't seem to matter that helping me in the real kitchen is one of his favourite things. While it seemed perfectly rational to me to offer him his own culinary space, I was barraged with statements that I might be effeminizing my son, turning him gay. Bullsh*t is all I have to say. If Hayden is going to be gay, he'll be gay. Buying him a kitchen is not going to change his genetics. And if he does turn out to be gay, he'll probably appreciate that his mum accepted him for who he was even before he had any idea of sexuality.
This is how I'm raising my son - by listening to his needs and guiding him when necessary. I'm not raising a spoiled child, but one who feels that his opinions and preferences count for something. I believe that his needs are way more important than society's views on what we should be doing. It sure doesn't hurt anyone else if we nurse for a few more months.
So to all you naysayers and those of you who just can’t help but give a mother your opinion on how she’s raising her child, just stop for a minute before you speak and consider that age-old adage, mother really does know best.
Now I'm perfectly fine with this arrangement. It allows me to eat what I want without gaining weight, gives Hayden some extra nutrition and fat and it gives us a special bonding time. What disturbs me about it is society's perception of our daily ritual. Somehow, those of us north of the equator have established bizarre guidelines for rearing our children. Strange ideas like: children must sleep alone, boys can only play with "boy toys," babies have to learn to self-soothe by crying themselves to sleep, nursing should only occur for the first year - tops. All very foreign ideals to me.
Hayden slept in our bed for the first year of his life. He didn't sleep one night in a crib until after his first birthday. And I don't regret a single minute of it. He now confidently falls asleep and sleeps 12 hours a night in his own bed without needing me. I think that knowing I'm always there for him when he needs me gives him the reassurance that he can do it on his own.
And as far as nursing past a year - it's the most wonderful thing to nurse a toddler. I was one of those naysayers before I had Hayden. I thought that if a child could walk up and ask for nursing, that child was too old to get it. But now I understand. I understand that with a busy boy, it gives you 10 minutes to just rest and cuddle. I understand that when owies happen, nursing is the best way to make it better. I understand that children have their own cycles and their own needs and you just have to listen. They will tell you when they're ready for a change.
The strangest idea of all for me is our stereotyping of what little boys and girls can play with. I got more than a few sideways glances when I bought Hayden his own kitchen. It didn't seem to matter that helping me in the real kitchen is one of his favourite things. While it seemed perfectly rational to me to offer him his own culinary space, I was barraged with statements that I might be effeminizing my son, turning him gay. Bullsh*t is all I have to say. If Hayden is going to be gay, he'll be gay. Buying him a kitchen is not going to change his genetics. And if he does turn out to be gay, he'll probably appreciate that his mum accepted him for who he was even before he had any idea of sexuality.
This is how I'm raising my son - by listening to his needs and guiding him when necessary. I'm not raising a spoiled child, but one who feels that his opinions and preferences count for something. I believe that his needs are way more important than society's views on what we should be doing. It sure doesn't hurt anyone else if we nurse for a few more months.
So to all you naysayers and those of you who just can’t help but give a mother your opinion on how she’s raising her child, just stop for a minute before you speak and consider that age-old adage, mother really does know best.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Bed bug!
Hayden and I have both been sick this past week with strep and scarlet fever (ya, I know, who the heck gets scarlet fever outside of novels from the 1800's). When Hayden gets sick, he gets clingy. Very clingy. And so, for the past week, he's slept more in our bed than he has in his own.
At first, I resented this little invader with his flailing limbs and persistent seeking out of nursies. I resented not having the freedom to flip over when my side was sore or being able to get up and pee without slithering out of the bed onto the floor like a liquid blob.
But then the other night he reminded me of why we had this co-sleeping arrangement for a whole year. He was having a particularly bad night and refused to even entertain the thought of going to sleep in his crib. And so I slung him on my hip and he kept me company while I got ready for bed. We climbed under the covers and instead of his usual giggling pleas for nursies, he climbed on top of my chest, flopped down so all four limbs were dangling to my tickly sides and promptly fell asleep.
I lay there for a minute, sure that he was just storing up energy for a melt-down before I realized that his breathing had become deep and even. And it was at that moment, as I kissed his wispy hair and breathed in his signature smell, that I remembered just how much I love holding him in my arms as we sleep. So I snuggled the heck out of him all night. And I'll keep snuggling him when he asks for it. I never want to think back and wistfully say "I wish I'd just held him more often. You know, back when he wanted to be held"
I love that Hayden is a cuddly child. I love that by hearing my heartbeat and feeling my breath, he calms and feels secure. I love that he still likes to sleep with his mama sometimes. These days are fleeting - soon enough he'll be taller than me and telling me how uncool I am. Till then, I'll keep him as my favourite little bed bug.
At first, I resented this little invader with his flailing limbs and persistent seeking out of nursies. I resented not having the freedom to flip over when my side was sore or being able to get up and pee without slithering out of the bed onto the floor like a liquid blob.
But then the other night he reminded me of why we had this co-sleeping arrangement for a whole year. He was having a particularly bad night and refused to even entertain the thought of going to sleep in his crib. And so I slung him on my hip and he kept me company while I got ready for bed. We climbed under the covers and instead of his usual giggling pleas for nursies, he climbed on top of my chest, flopped down so all four limbs were dangling to my tickly sides and promptly fell asleep.
I lay there for a minute, sure that he was just storing up energy for a melt-down before I realized that his breathing had become deep and even. And it was at that moment, as I kissed his wispy hair and breathed in his signature smell, that I remembered just how much I love holding him in my arms as we sleep. So I snuggled the heck out of him all night. And I'll keep snuggling him when he asks for it. I never want to think back and wistfully say "I wish I'd just held him more often. You know, back when he wanted to be held"
I love that Hayden is a cuddly child. I love that by hearing my heartbeat and feeling my breath, he calms and feels secure. I love that he still likes to sleep with his mama sometimes. These days are fleeting - soon enough he'll be taller than me and telling me how uncool I am. Till then, I'll keep him as my favourite little bed bug.
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