Heligirl: Positive Discipline Mommy » kids

Let It Snow

Heligirl — Thu, 24 Feb 2011 22:58:57 +0000

Today we had our first snow of 2011. We took advantage of the three inches of white stuff to play before the typical Seattle spoiling arrived to take it all away.

Pure joy.

Knee deep in the white stuff.

Having a blast together showing Mr. Man how to throw snowballs.

First snow angel of 2011.

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Suck Up and Sell

Heligirl — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 19:24:55 +0000

OK, so it's not this bad, but you get the idea.

The other day I took a long look at my little house that is feeling so crowded. Yes, I’ve gone from me, two Chihuahuas and a cat to me, hubby, two kids and added hubby’s two cats. But we also added a bathroom and pushed the master bedroom out adding half as much more space to that room. But still, I am feeling crowded. Yet it doesn’t take Ty Pennington and the team from Extreme Makeover to point out my unique home style – decor by Fisher Price – may be the culprit.

In the living room/dining room area alone I have an infant swing (not used in weeks), box of toys, art easel, exersaucer, Johnny Jump Up, Boppy, Breastfriend, play kitchen with associated crap, and two dinning room chairs used for kids (one with a space saver infant chair ( it can’t fit up to the table) and one with a booster). That’s not counting what Sweetness could drag out of her room at any moment, which typically could be – train set, stroller with dolly, various vehicles, and riding toys. Oh the humanity of my little ranch. I need a family room.

Then there is the stuff piling up in the garage – two strollers, infant car seat with two bases, infant bouncer seat, shopping cart seat cover, Baby Bjorn, infant floor gym, and a diaper pail.

Part of me is screaming “GARAGE SALE!!” I’m thinking of the money I can make off this and perhaps have the vacation my doggy’s surgery took from the budget. Or, I could use the cash to buy the next batch of crap the kids will need. My garage would have more space and a corner of my living room where the swing sits.

Then the hormones grab me by the throat and throttle me like a wet doll. “These are the precious little things people gave you for baby showers and that you bought in extreme excitement for your babies’ arrivals. Selling them off is getting rid of memories. You’ll never have any more babies,” the evil hormones say. Then I get all nostalgic to the point where I actually played the music on the gym one last time, even though the batteries were dying and it sounded terrible.

I know this is all so very stupid. What am I going to do, save all this crap forever? My mom saved some stuff, claiming I could use it, or she could with my kids when they came over. Guess what, I never did, and neither did she. Can’t use that excuse for my kids. There are people out there that can’t afford brand new stuff and could use my well cared for stuff, before it is obsolete or beyond it’s use-by date (in the case of the car seat).

I know that when the time comes for this stuff to really leave, I will cry really hard as it walks away. I spent so many years wanting to be a mommy. I knew I wanted to be a mom since I was a little girl (even chose the name of my daughter when I was 12) and was really feeling the urge for 10 years before Sweetness was born. All those years and the trappings of those precious infant months are in your life for such a short time.

You know, I might just have to suck it up. And by suck it up, I mean leave the hubby to sell off the stuff while I hide in the back room/take the kids to grandma’s for the day/drink myself into oblivion.

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Photo Shoot Fun

Heligirl — Thu, 18 Feb 2010 21:45:50 +0000

I took Sweetness and Mr. Man to the photographer yesterday and here are the fruits of our labors. I couldn’t resist sharing my thumbnails. We’re getting wall photos.

The Handsome Dude.

Sibling love.

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The Dreaded Moment

Heligirl — Mon, 15 Feb 2010 03:36:30 +0000

Is this in our future?

Well, it finally happened. Since I first saw those two lines on that first pregnancy test I knew I needed to start paying attention to what I said as it would take some discipline to start working a few choice words out of my vocabulary. I’d gotten pretty good, but there were times when I slipped up, like after a long day of nothing going right, low blood sugar due to not eating much, and cranky kids, to say the least. At those times an expletive would sneak out and I’d invariably turn to look into those eyes that were, by Murphy’s Law, always trained on me.

However, the other day I was rushing to pull together Mr. Man’s dinner before he broke out into full upset and I accidentally bumped a glass of milk, knocking it to the ground and spilling it everywhere. Of course, Sweetness was under foot, trying to help me, and fully witnessed my frustrated “damn it!” Then, with the utmost glee and perfect pronunciation, she began to repeat it, over and over. It was enough to make me want to say it again. But what was the need with her saying it enough for us both?

I can’t get the little creature to repeat “I love you” to save my soul, even though I say that to her hundreds of times a day. But she hears this ONCE and it’s perfect pronunciation and repetition out of the gate. Luckily, my youngest dog is Daggett (sounds close, right?). I started saying his name angrily over and over as he was right there trying to lick up the milk and getting underfoot too. She wasn’t convinced. She had herself a new word and she was proud of it. I began envisioning the discussion I was going to have with her daycare provider the day she pulled out that little nugget of vocabulary with the other kids.

But time passed and we didn’t hear the word again. I began to think I got my ‘get out of jail free’ card. Perhaps she forgot it.

NOT A CHANCE. This afternoon we were all eating lunch together at the table and she was messing around at the end of her meal, pushing her plate around and running her spoon around her place mat. Then she dropped her spoon on the floor. She looked down, paused, and said in perfect clarity, “damn it.”

Hubby spit water out his nose, and I bit my lip and covered my face. React and they’ll repeat. I kicked Hubby and he just presumed to cough. I was both horrified and racked with a terrible case of the giggles. She didn’t say it again because we both started calling “Daggett,” who of course was already there because food had hit the floor, or so he thought. (Luckily you don’t pay for your dog to have therapy. This poor pooch.)

I can’t get this girl to use most sentences in the correct context, sentences she’s heard her WHOLE life. But of course, THIS she has to get on the first shot and she not only says it perfectly, she uses it in the right context. What the hell? I’ve decided to draft my letter of apology to the other parents at daycare now, just to get that out of the way. I was hoping to put her up for early entrance into Kindergarten since she’s a September baby. Will they hold this against her? Can they deny you entrance into public school for this? Surely you can’t lose custody of your kids for them learning foul language. Maybe I can enroll her in Los Angeles Unified School District in South Central then no one will notice?

I must admit, I’d like to be a fly on the wall when she pulls this out the day I’m not around. Perfect little blue-eyed, blond-haired little two year old. My only hope is she’s not pronouncing most other words very well that folks will just think she’s trying to say something else and it only sounds like what they think they heard.

Not.

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Nine Months

Heligirl — Fri, 12 Feb 2010 03:22:53 +0000

Mr. Man turns nine, months that is.

My Handsome Little Man is nine months old today. Hard to imagine that nine months ago I was in the hospital again with a little newborn baby boy in my arms. That went so fast. It seems like those first nine months with Sweetness took longer. My little guy’s infancy is screaming by and I can’t seem to slow this train down in any way to savor it more. I’m hating how fast life has been going since I found my happiness. Why couldn’t it have gone this fast when I was living in the Evil Place?

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How Do Rock Stars Get that Green Streak in Thier Hair?

How Do Rock Stars Get that Green Streak in Thier Hair?

Heligirl — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 03:37:05 +0000

My mom doesn’t tell many jokes, but when she did when we were kids they were funny to us. The answer to this one, one of her oddest, is an action. Make a huge sniffing sound as you wipe your nose and rub your hand up over your forehead and back through your hair. Lovely. Thank goodness Gowan actually has red bangs. It doesn’t apply.

Today reminded me of that joke as well as the fact that when you become a parent, any and all aversion to bodily fluids and functions is met head on and dealt with in the most direct of manners. Poor little Mr. Man was making the green snot faster than I could wipe it away. Seriously, he’d sneeze, I’d see the two long lines of green mucus, grab a Kleenex, wipe, turn to toss it and when I looked back, more green snot lines running to his upper lip. The poor little dude. And if I wasn’t fast enough he’d rub his nose. I found dried snot all over his face, chin, hands and, well, I think you get the picture.

As you’ve probably guessed, the little man us under the weather. He’d been coughing a bit, like his sister, for a couple of days so I figured he was most likely on the mend. But yesterday he really wasn’t sounding all that great by the end of the day. I made an emergency run to Bed Bath & Beyond to get a new humidifier (as I have a knack for causing those in my possession to die suddenly during cold season. Maybe it’s my magnetic personality. Though I’m not sure magnets can kill a cold mist humidifier.) This time I got a warm mist one. We set it up and his room was like Alabama in July by 10 pm, except without the mosquitoes. His coughing had reduced, but he was still waking and crying from discomfort every couple of hours.

Hubby took the late shift so I could sleep. By morning the nasal mucus flood gates were on full open and my usually easy going, mild mannered little bundle of joy was uncharacteristically cranky. I stayed home with him all day, drinking tea and water like it was going out of style in order to try to keep up with his liquid intake needs. (I can’t dip into the frozen milk with Heli Expo so close.) His temperature then began to sneak up. Oh the joy. By 6:30 pm he was more than ready for bed. We reset his room to Alabama and tucked him in for the night with a shot of Tylenol to help with the fever as it was getting close to 103. Here’s hoping he’ll feel better by tomorrow. Because a happy boy a happy mommy makes.

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Another Use for the Kitchen Sink

Heligirl — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 03:20:05 +0000

The Handsome Man getting all squeeky clean.

I’d been giving Mr. Man a bath in his baby tub in the bathtub, basically out of habit since Sweetness had a complete aversion of sinks (sinkophobia?). However, I’ve somehow contracted Caitlin’s lovely fever/crappy stuff which has made me feel really achey and, quite frankly, not the least bit interested in leaning over the tub.

Alas, my little man found the kitchen sink a perfectly acceptable substitute and he seemed to enjoy being at mommy’s eye level. It was a fun bath time. Sometimes set backs (feeling like a train ran me over after the four horsemen of the apocalypse trampled me) can clear the way for new discoveries. Not quite a cure of world hunger, but little victories are always welcome.

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98.6 is for Sissies

Heligirl — Thu, 21 Jan 2010 03:33:00 +0000

So I’m sitting at work, working away like a good little Umpa Lumpa, when I get a call from the nanny.

“I thought I should call you because I’ve never seen this before. (Sweetness) is shivering hard and has blue lips. We were out playing. I washed her hands in warm water and have bundled her up, but she keeps saying she’s cold. The shivering has stopped but her lips are still blue. She’s breathing and talking fine.”

My heart stops. It’s an unseasonable 58 degrees out and the nanny said Sweetness was wearing a sweater and coat so I’m not thinking the nanny did anything wrong going out on a nice sunny day with that much bundling.

“Wrap her in a blanket and hold her tight to share your body heat. I’m on my way home.”

I raced home, breaking all sorts of speed laws in the way and waiting on hold with the pediatrician on the car’s Bluetooth speakers. Terrible visions of tragically rare diseases are racing through my head. What causes sudden loss of ability to regulate temperature? Cancer? Fungus? Raccoon-carried round worms? (note to self, get gun and kill all raccoons that enter the yard.) Agent Orange? The nurse finally comes on and assures me after I give her my panicked account that it might just be a fever coming on. She’s not worried now but told me to call in an hour or so if I’m unable to warm her. I’m glad I didn’t ask her about Agent Orange.

I raced in the house and grabbed my beautiful baby girl from the nanny to hold tight (basically to stop my own shaking from fear). Her head, neck and torso were really warm, but her hands and feet felt like ice. Despite this, she tells me “all better,” “diaper change please,” and “I want to play.” When I changed her diaper I “snuck” in a temperature check. I don’t think she was tricked as she screamed bloody murder. It’s 101.1.

I got home two hours early so I decide to prepare for the worst – a nasty fever. I gave her some water and we watched an episode of Penguins of Madagascar (her favorite) to relax her. Sure enough, after being distracted and relaxed, her hands and feet warmed up. She sat down with the nanny sat down to read books while I got a quick shower and lunch. By the time the nanny was ready to leave (about two hours after I got home), the Princess’ temperature had jumped to 103.3 and she was lethargic. Enter Tylenol.

After a viewing of Cars (I’d been saving that for a sick day) and a nap, she was a little cranky but her temperature was back near 101. I braced for a rough night, but she slept hard and long, waking 12 hours later this morning with a nice normal temperature and lots of energy. That’s the second time a fever has come on so fast and hard then left just as quick in the past six months. It scared the crap out of me, but helped build my faith and confidence in my little one’s immune system.

So far Little Man hasn’t shown any signs of copying his sister, but the week isn’t over yet.

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More than a Museum

Heligirl — Sun, 17 Jan 2010 20:33:21 +0000

Here’s a “well, duhhhh” for you. When you have kids, it’s like a whole new world is opened to you. I always planned to go to the zoo and aquarium more when I had kids to share them with. Yet, there are so many more things out there that I was somewhat aware of, but never really noticed until these small creatures popped out of me. It’s kind of like those locked games on the Wii game console that you can’t access until you have enough points. One of those things is the Children’s Museum. I always saw this place when I was at Seattle Center, but never really gave it much thought. I just had no interest whatsoever. Then I had kids.

Cuteness "in" Goldilocks.

This year I suddenly became aware of this establishment and all I can say is WOW! I wish I’d had a place like this to hang out and play when I was a kid. There’s a whole section for little ones, Discovery Bay for Birth to 3, so they can feel a little safer to explore things like a water sensory table, a small slide, lots of mirrors and manipulatives, and even a soft climbing area. There are even little nooks in there to nurse in somewhat private. This whole area is contained behind a short door so you can feel safe letting your little one tear around and wreck havoc without fearing he or she will make a run for it.

The rest of the museum of one great big preschool on steroids with all sorts of exploration opportunities from dressing up as a fireman (or woman) to a fully stocked grocery store where kids can put very realistic food into shopping cards and check out (chips in the food cause the food to ring up!), an art room where they can make art projects, and on and on and on. I could write a book about the cool things here. All I can say is it takes a fleet of employees to keep all the stuff where it belongs since there are so many things in each and every exhibit and kids are inherent cleptos.

The first time we went, Sweetness was totally overwhelmed and found the library, filled with books, comfy pillows and chairs, and a beautiful fairy tale mural, to be more her liking. I’m sure I read half the books there to her. The next time she was totally into grocery shopping and has since fallen in love with the car in the international area. Point is, you can take them again, again, and again and they’ll always find something new and interesting.

And there is a rotating exhibit. Right now it’s Sesame Street’s The Body exhibit. Stupid me, I forgot my camera when we went last, but Sweetness found it very cool and she loved stepping into Elmo’s World. And if you’re in the throws of teaching the fine art of potty training, there’s a reather interesting hands-on piece about how food becomes poo. Compelte with sound effects. I’ll leave the rest to you to imagine and see for yourself. This exhibit is traveling so you can check here if it’s coming to a museum near you.

For $75 a year, our whole family gets in, we can list our nanny as an additional adult that can come, and we can bring up to four people free with us. This place was a life saver when the temperature hit 105 this summer and has since been a great rainy-day escape. Never underestimate the word “museum.” Sometimes they can really be hands on.

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Did I Say ‘You Have the Controls?’

Heligirl — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 19:37:29 +0000

In a momentary lapse of reason, I let my mind wonder a bit (what’s left of it after two kids, a job, and 6 hours of sleep a day) and think back to the days when I hand it together. You know, when you knew who you were, where you were going, what you were going to do today, and you ACTUALLY got it done. It was an interesting flashback to say the least.

I was a professional, living and breathing my trade and all things aviation. I was jet set, traveling all over the country doing my job and having a blast. I was a networking guru, making connections, pals and friendships everywhere I went. I stayed up late, went out with pals, traveled and ended every day with a sense of accomplishment.

Today I wonder what on Earth I did with all that free time because that life was no where near as hectic as life today.

When I was a flight instructor, I taught my students that there would always be a positive transfer of control of the helicopter. I’d say “you have the controls,” and the student would respond, “I have the controls,” then I’d visually confirm and repeat “you have the controls” before I let go. I’m looking at my life that has somehow jumped into Warp Factor 9, and I don’t feel I’m totally in control and I don’t remember handing the controls over.

I don’t have the time or brainpower to think about work all day and night and, it’s probably my own insecurity, but I feel that I’m not doing that great of a job as a result. Don’t get me wrong, I’m getting the job done. Yet, those non-breeder co-workers on e-mail all hours of the day and night, texting and Tweeting all the time, are making me look bad, I tell you what.

I think a part of this is just what happens when you have kids. They run your life, not you. I eat, sleep and pee when they let me. Right now, most of my meals are cool if not cold, I have to force myself to get three meals in a day (eating two while I’m at work), and sleeping fewer than eight hours a night on a pretty regular basis regardless of how early I get to sleep.

And at the end of the day, I’m lucky if I get a shower, pump extra milk for my little man, eat three times, and clean up whatever disaster was created. Forget getting ahead on projects, calling people back, touching base with pals, cleaning the house, etc.

Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’d not change anything for the world. That former life was fun, but I’d be so very lonely if I went back to it. It’s just that you go from being who you are and pregnant to living your life according to this (or these) little people’s needs without any transition. No amount of friend and family warnings that “your life is going to change” prepares you for this. You mommies know what I’m talking about.

Maybe the answer is I need to just change aircraft – accept a shift in priorities. Embrace meal planning, scheduling sex, and to do lists in hopes of keeping on top of the important things while putting all my free energy into being there with and for the Rugrats. Wish I had the money for a house cleaner and cook though…

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