Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Big Boy

It seemslike whenever I crow about something on here, it has a mysterious way of ceasing. So, I have been understandably reluctant to write the following two sentences. Sam has been using the potty on a regular basis. He's also been sleeping through the night for about a week.

First, the sleeping thing. He'd been sleeping through about every 3rd or 4th night, and I really felt like the times he was waking up to nurse had become more of a want than a need. I also needed more sleep. So, we decided that Mark would take over night comforting duties, and we would tell Sam that "Na-na's are asleep now - you can nurse when it's day." It took about 5 nights of various degrees of protest, but I never felt like he was being deprived of something he absolutely needed. And, on the 6th day, he slept. For 9 hours. I should add that because it's summer, "day" appears in our window around 5 in the morning, so to get a full night's sleep we've needed to go to bed earlier. But, the hours in a row have been nice, and at the 5:00 mark I hear "It's day! You can nurse?" and he crawls into bed next to me. That morning nurse has gotten pretty long to make up for it, but that's fine with me.

And now, the potty! I'd heard that M&Ms work magic, so we thought we'd try it - one for a pee-pee, and two for a poop. Seriously, that kid is MOTIVATED. You'd think we never give him chocolate. For the last few days, I've had about one wet diaper a day and no poop. He even used our big potty with his little seat on it. He always tells me if he needs to go, and on one occasion he managed to hold it until we got home. Is he a potty savant? The one owwry I have is that he's doing it for the chocolate, and not the pride of being a big boy. But then I realized: I don't really care. The next step is to get him excited about "big-boy pants." I think that will be a Mark thing.

So, here's the funny thing about both of these things, and maybe another reason I've been reluctant to write about this. As much as I complained about getting up at night, and as dismal as changing and washing diapers and wiping a bottom can be, I sort of...miss it. It's weird. I thought I'd be jumping up and down, and I mostly am. But there's a part of me that realizes that he's growing up and needing me less, and that in the grand scheme of things, the amount of time that he did need me so intensely was so short and precious. I know they tell you that, and you don't believe them when you're in the thick of it...but it's true.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Little athlete

A few amazing little tidbits from our play gym time today:

Sam learned to pedal a tricycle! He's been working on it for a while, but I think having a few different ones to try out and watching the other kids helped a lot.

He's a gymnast! There's this long, slippery slide with a pad at the bottom, and kids were just flying and rolling off the end. Sam did this the first time, too, but then every time after that, he stuck it like he was in the Olympics - arms forward, evenly on both feet. I half expected him to raise his arms and bow to three sides.

So, will he win the gold in cycling or on the vault?

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Rant of the month

I figure I don't really go off on rants all that much (maybe Mark will disagree), but this really set me off today.

Where we live is a pretty well-off demographic area, and we see lots of nannies with their charges at our playground. For the most part, they're lovely women who are involved in their kids' lives. One bad one can ruin the day for everyone, though...

Sam and I arrived at the park, and he made a beeline for the sandbox, which contained two brand-new plastic wheelbarrows. Anyone who knows Sam knows that it would be a chilly day you-know-where before he'd pass up a chance at one of those. Trouble is, two kids - a girl about 3 1/2 and a boy about 4 - had them cornered, and they were not about to share. "Noooo!" yelled the little girl. "I'm using that!" whined the boy. I glanced around - no one watching these kids, apparently. Lots of moms chatting on the bench, a few grouped around the slides, all spoken for by kids. Except for that one girl on the bench zoning out in the other direction listening to her IPod. I had a sinking feeling. Fine, we'd find something else to do. What ensued was me taking a gradually escalating Sam repeatedly away from the sandbox where he was making a grab for the wheelbarrows, the kids continued to refuse to share, and I started making louder statements about how "maybe we can all work out how to share, since you two have had a long turn now." I was getting sympathetic looks from the other moms. IPod girl was still zoned out. I eventually went over to the bench and asked pointedly, "Does anyone know who's with those kids? Because I'd like to work out a way for us to share the toys." Nothing. Finally, I became bossy mom. I went over to the sandbox and said "Look, guys, Sam has been waiting for a turn, so let's figure this out. Can you guys share a wheelbarrow while Sam pushes one around?" Sure that was fine - just "not mine." Grrr. Finally, I was noticed by IPod girl, who came over, and managed to drag Lauren, the girl, away from one of them. "How about we play with it for 10 minutes and we bring it back?" I asked, in the absence of any constructive input from the nanny. She petulantly agreed. So, Sam finally got his turn, and the kids had snacks on the bench. After 10 minutes, I told Sam it was time to return the wheelbarrow to Lauren. And he did.

Look, lady, the point of nannying is not to just make sure that the kids don't get killed or kidnapped at the park, which you were barely doing anyway. It's to provide them with guidance and attention until their parents get home. I wish I could talk to your employers about how you did your job today, but unfortunately I don't know them and probably wouldn't have the guts if I did. All I can do is write my little scree and feel a little better, and hope that this isn't representative of the rest of your day.

Whew. I feel better.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

A trip to the park

Yesterday was a little reminder that Sam's growing up. We were at the park, and all of the kids from the preschool down the street were there, too. He played very nicely with a few of them, pointing out one girl's zipper and then helping her with it, and then sitting in the big tube with a few kids facing the side and suggesting to them that they were "watching TV," which they all agreed to. Then, the monitor yelled, "All Magnolia co-op kids - we're going now!" The kids all gathered round the little rope and grabbed on, and started walking away. "Where they going?" asked Sam. "They're going to preschool, kiddo," I answered. He looked like the most forlorn, envious little two-year old in the world. "Go with them?" "Sorry, honey, you're not in preschool yet." And we stood there and watched the big kids go back to preschool.

The trip was salvaged shortly afterwards with the arrival of Lorelai, a very cute 3 and a half year old. She loved playing with Sam, and he followed her around, star-struck. At one point, he said "hold her hand?" and tentatively reached for her hand. She looked down at his little paw and grabbed on, and they walked, swinging their arms, over to the sandbox.