Parenting isn't all puppies and rainbows

In fact, yesterday in the Williamses household was full of doodoo and unicorn vomit. Nice imagery, eh? What? You didn't think we had bad days in this house ... actually you wouldn't, since I have posted before of fighting with Oli, having a tough day and vowing to do better about not getting frustrated, not yelling ... I think I forgot all my mantras yesterday.

The day started off great with an ornament making play date at another mom's house. In fact, that went so well that Oli refused to leave and announced that he wanted to have lunch with that house. Got him out of the poor woman's house (Sorry!!!) and got home. That was when the planets misaligned, somebody spit on a photo of me or burned an effigy of me, or something. Because what we had after lunch folks, could only be described as a 180 turnaround in a complete we-need-an-Exorcist-right-now way.

What ensued was a battle of wills for 2 hours. I attempted to get him to lie down in bed, using everything possible - lies, threats, promises, cajoling - except for duct tape. Next time, I'll just use it. It'll be less painful and time consuming. I mean, the child took his favorite toys and threw them in the garbage can when presented with that awesome alternative to taking a nap. So, he refused to sleep and I refused to let him enjoy being up. Jeff was locked in our room asleep. I locked Oli's bedroom so he wouldn't have access to any of his toys or books. I lay on the couch and told him I needed a nap. For TWO hours, this stubborn child of mine just walked around the different rooms. Every few minutes, he came over and poked me. Climbed over me. Stood staring at me. TWO HOURS! Then, he comes to me at 3:20 pm and says he's ready to take a nap. VICTORY WAS MINE!

Except he lay down when he should have been waking up. Which meant, he woke up when he usually eats dinner. That's ok though. He had the promise of watching half of a Star Wars movie, since he woke up later than usual, to get him to eat. I made a gourmet plate of peanut butter and jelly on 7 grain toast, and served it with a chilled glass of milk liberally flavored with Strawberry Nesquick. And, we all sat down to watch how little Anakin became Darth Vadar. Oh, how I laugh now at my innocent hope. My childlike belief that like Santa, peace had come slithering down the chimney. I forgot that we have no chimney.

He kicked the plate to the ground. Refused to eat or drink. Or even sit. He wanted to stand on the couch and bounce around, falling over a few times. After he kicked the plate the dozenth time, the movie got turned off. Oh, how the floodgates opened. Oh, the horrors. He was on the ground, wailing in such plaintiff tones that I am surprised our neighbors haven't come over with condolences. Or called 911 on us.

By this time, it was clear no food or milk was going to pass through his lips and no words out of our mouth were making it past his ears. So, bedtime it was. Ever tried to dress an octopus high on PCP? No? Well, borrow my kid when he's on a tantrum and you'll be ready to deal with any multi-limbed entity high on narcotics. I finally managed to put pajamas on what seemed to suddenly be a double jointed and boneless toddler. I expected another fight over going to sleep. But, he proved to me how exhausted he was when he fell asleep after only 13 minutes of cries to the heavens which I can only imagine asked for bolts of lightning to hit his captors. Or his real parents to come find him.

Do parents keep a suitcase packed for nights like that where they ask the babysitter to come over and they just disappear? No? Come on, you have to have imagined it at least! Liars.

I didn't run away but I did mentally fortify me for what today would bring.

And, today brought us this:

I mean, I swear, it's like the kid had it penciled into his calendar for yesterday, "be on your absolute worst behavior, no matter what those parental units do or say."

We love you, Oliver, but let's have no days like yesterday and all days like today. Pretty please? With a strawberry on top.

Best wife ever

from the bottom up :(

A month ago or so, Jeff was sitting at home on a Saturday evening, when he started complaining about a pain in the middle of his chest. Being a long suffering member of GERD Anonymous, I thought that must be it. Also, Oli was asleep and if you have r know a toddler, you DO NOT DISTURB THEM SLEEPING! So, I told him to drive himself to the ER. Which was obviously a REALLY bad idea, considering the chest pain and arm numbness could have been somthing worse.

Fast forward to yesterday. Well, back up to the night before that, Wednesday night. Victoria Gastro Pub, in Columbia, had a wonderful beer tasting dinner that I sent Jeff off to while I watched wonderful, deep, meaningful ... who am I kidding? I watched some real life story based movie filled with too much violence and sex. Now, fast forward to yesterday morning. Around noon, he texted me tos ay he didn't feel good and could I drive him home. I, in my infinite wisdom, thought he was just suffering from acid reflux because of the great food and beer the night before. So, I told him to drive himself to Urgent Care, about 15 minutes from him.

Another half hour later, he texts me. The urgent care pysician told him it was most likely a swollen appendix and to get himself to an ER immediately. I got him to drive himself to me immediately and I took him to the Howard County ER. where, 6 hours later, his appendix was removed. I was wrong. He wasn't just making a mountain out of a molehill. Lesson learned.

MEN, STOP MAKING EVERY MOUNTAIN INTO A MOLEHILL. When you complain about every 100 degree fever like your limb has been cut off, how are we, the simple wives, supposed to know when it's for real? So, from now on, dear male spouses, please keep your worst whining for things are really bad.

So, we know when to send you to the ER and when to ignore you.

And, to leave you with a photographic piece of evidence of this, I present Jeff modeling his 2014 deisgn of the dmeical robe by Givenchy:

3

 3 isn't a big number, in the grand scheme of things, it's quite tiny. If you ignore negative numbers, it's really only the fourth from the bottom. But, you ask Oliver and he's SO BIGGER NOW! And he seems bigger ... taller, more loquacious, more knowledgeable (I mean he just announced the anatomical difference between boys and girls last night), more stubborn ...

Here are 3 things that come to mind immediately when I think of my bubs, in form of a photo montage.:

LOVING:

 GOOFY:

 

ALWAYS IN MOTION (these are all during 1 meal time):

We love you Oliver and even though we'd love to slow time down and keep you little, we love watching you grow in front of our eyes. By the minute, it seems some days. You are such a happy little boy, we feel very lucky to have you in our lives. You teach us to be patient, to look at everything with a new wonder and to be kind to everyone. You also teach us to just take a few minutes and enjoy life everyday, to run around with smokey, or race your cars on the kitchen floor, or pretend to hide from the alligators under our comforter ... your imagination is amazing and I hope you never lose that. This note to you doesn't seem very cohesive because it's not. I've been avoiding thinking about you growing up :( I feel you tugging your hand away from mine as I try to keep you close to me and safe. But, you want to spread your wings like Dusty Crophopper and take off. Pretty soon, you won't want mommy to play with you at all and I feel like I am mourning that day already. But, I need to not let the thoughts of your future independence from us take over our todays with you. We also need to prepare you for that future independence. I know that in my head. But, I don't have to do it without crying, darnit ;-) We love you so much. More than we ever thought possible to love somebody.

Happy 3rd birthday to our beautiful, big, strong, handsome boy.

Duck Face

An epiphany and a parenting win

Well, I wouldn't call it in a win, but more of a re-affirmation of something we said we would do as parents months ago and just kind of fell off the wagon. And this was the no-fighting-over-food wagon. We had talked and figured since Oli tells us he's hungry, when he's not eating, we weren't going to force it or make it a fight.

Well, let me tell ya, we forgot our own decision a few weeks ago. some of it has to do with the grandparents being here. Which is great, they get to spoil him, Jeff and I get to go out and drink. Win-win, eh? But, that adds a little to his defiance and I guess I started digging my heels in.  So, we've been having horrible dinner times on weekdays and general mealtimes on the weekend. He refuses to eat, I threaten with taking away a toy, he throws tantrums, he throws food, he hits, he loses more stuff, he cries, I cry, the grandma cries ... you get the picture.

I am exhausted from the fighting. So yesterday, on the way home, I told Jeff I was done! If Oli didn't eat, he didn't eat. He could tell us if he was hungry. So, last night, I put all the food on the table, had Oli pick out himself what he wanted to eat, put on some Disney and started feeding him. An hour later, he'd eaten less than half of what was on his plate and he said he was all done. And, I said ... wait for it .... wait for it ... I said "Ok honey, let's go play with bubbles."

Whew, it doesn't sound hard, but it was. I worry that he's not eating enough. I can count his ribs and his shoulder blades stick out. He's got skinny legs and arms and I worry about him growing. But, I worry more about having an unhappy relationship with him because of food or creating negative associations to meal time with the family.

So, I am giving up.

I am giving up arguing with him.

I am giving up threatening him.

I am giving up fighting over food.

I am looking forward to much happier meal times.

Till we find something new to butt heads about. Isn't that what this whole parenting shindig is about?

In the meantime, look at this gargantuan baby I have, who will be 3 in less than 3 months!!!

He's getting so tall!

The good, the bad and the ugly of toddlerhood

Dear Oli,

We are 4 months away from your 3rd birthday, yet this weekend felt like we had a belligerent teenager in the house. Let's start with the ugly. Just this morning, you threw a tantrum because I picked out shorts that were not acceptable so after cajoling, arguing, threatening, talking to you and asking you to pick out what you'd like for 10 minutes while you just stood there with your lower lip stuck out at me, I had to walk out and get your dad to go in. And out you walked in the same pair of shorts I had picked out. Then, you asked me to put you in your car seat but started crying when I did, because you wanted to climb in on your own. what was that all about kiddo?

And the bad? This was just a continuation of the weekend. Let's not lie, this wasn't the best weekend as far as behavior goes, from you or as a result, from me.  I might have raised my voice, threatened to throw away your nightlight in the garbage can, give you away to roaming Gypsies, screamed into my pillow, cried into my beer ....

BUT that's not why I started this post. I want to remember all the good, because there's a lot of good. We tend to remember all the negative and I am trying to let go of those memories and only remember that you went pee on the big potty every day. I want to remember how you sat through dinner at a restaurant Saturday night, ate your food and let us eat ours (well, thanks to the iPad but still, it's rare). I want to remember the dance party you and I had yesterday when everyone else was asleep. How you giggled and laughed maniacally as I threw you on my shoulders and danced around the kitchen. How you were excited to accompany me on my run Saturday morning and then went to take the dog out with me too. How you constantly remind me you are not a baby anymore and you are getting bigger.

You don't have to remind me Olibug, I can see you growing in front of my eyes. I want you to slow down, yet I cannot wait to see what every new sunrise will bring with it. You are learning to tell stories, you make up songs to sing, you absolutely love playing baseball and sliding into the make believe bases on our carpet. You are still very fascinated with trucks and Lightening McQueen. So much so, that we might have bought a second one and hidden it, just in case you ever lose the first one. Shhhhh, nobody tell him and he can't read this yet.

You love to be silly and play with anybody and everybody who'll play with you. I think these 2 photos show your wonder and your silliness:

Being silly on board the USS constellation

Feeling the raindrops

We love you, Oliver, just slow down a teensy weensy bit and be my baby just a little bit longer.

2.5 years

It's been way too long! Who do I blame? Oliver, for growing so fast I can't keep up with all the changes? Myself, for scheduling pretty full weekends? or both.

Oli's passed the 2.5 year mark and he's just growing by leaps and bounds. His vocabulary is awesome, he speaks in full sentences and almost correct grammar. Yesterday, we were returning a movie to Redbox, and he was holding it. He looked at it and said, "I forgot to watch this movie yesterday." He knew we had gotten the movie the day before, he remembered saying he had to watch it, then he remembered he hadn't watched it and he articulated it. I am amazed. Maybe to most people, it's nothing but the fully correct sentence out of a 31 month old is amazing to me!

Dear Oli,

You are growing so fast, mommy and daddy are afraid to blink. You are no longer afraid of the mall ride on toys. You actually get excited when you see them, especially the train one, and ask to ride it.

You are aware of everything you see or hear and have already started asking a billion questions a day.



You have started asserting your independence. You knows the rule of holding hands if we are crossing the road but as soon as we get onto the sidewalk, you pull your hand free and with a furrowed brow, exclaim, "we are not on the road anymore, mommy."

You love climbing up on the fences by our house and scream at airplanes.




But, I love that you still love to cuddle sometimes. You'll randomly ask us for hugs and pull us close. And, demand that we get a photo of the three of us.

You ask me to sing to you at bedtime or your daddy to show you baseball highlights on his phone. some nights you even tell us a story. Just the other night, you told me you saw some bad guys at the police station. They'd been fighting and one got a bad boo-boo on his big knee. I can only imagine your imagination.

Keep that imagination alive for as long as you can, my little one. And stay my little one for just a little bit longer. Mommy's not ready to let go of your hand yet even though you are.

We love you and can't wait to see what comes next.

Mommy and daddy.

Rewarding weight loss/healthy lifestyle

How do you reward weight loss goals you've reached? I had a set a 20 lbs goal for myself some weeks months ok ok years ago. I am now at 10 lbs to lose and am setting small goals, like getting under the next decade number, losing 5 etc. But, I can't think of what to use as a reward when I reach that goal.

• Food and/or drink: I don't believe in any deprivation diet; I believe in everything in moderation. So, I eat a piece of candy or a serving of chips or handful of nuts when I crave them instead of waiting till I'll binge on them. So, that wouldn't really be a reward.
• Fitting into old clothing: I already do. Since I am in the middle of sizes, and the pregnancy distributed the weight differently, I can actually wear all my old clothes right now.
• New clothing and/or shoes: I buy that stuff when I see something good and on sale. I wouldn't see it as a special rewarding thing.
• Spa treatments (massage, pedicure etc.): I just don't enjoy it enough to make it a reward. I get a massage every couple years when somebody gifts it to me and at the end of it, I always think I wasted my time and their money. I get pedicures twice a year - at the beginning and at the end of summer.
• Vacation: We already have our vacations scheduled through September and then the next one will be Christmas in CA, so no time to plan one as a reward.
• Jewelry: I haven't bought jewelry in years and it's not because of any other reason but the fact that I have enough and I don't want any more cluttering my cabinets, shelves or drawers.
• Handbag/purse: I buy a new purse every 3-4 years when the one I have starts falling apart. It's not an accessory, it's an item of usefulness, so not something I'd go spend money on to reward myself.
• Haircut: I go 2 years without a haircut and I just got one that I love, so no way am I messing this up by getting one as a reward. And, it doesn't feel like a reward anyways.

So, what do I do? How do I motivate myself through these last few pounds? Come on fellow human beings, tell me what motivates you and I might get some inspiration.

I'm glad I'm turning into my mother

If I was asked to draw a picture of my mother as I remember her from my childhood, it would be her in a colorful sari, matching bangles, jewelry, bindi and shoes. In one hand, there would be a cleaning rag and in the other, a rolling pin that served 2 purposes. 1 of course was to roll out our rotis and the second was to threaten us with a beating for any infraction, it could be a bad grade, a sassy mouthed comment, a missed class, a complaint about her elder daughter (me) talking to THE bad boy at school ... You get the idea. And I'm so thankful for that rolling pin.

Ask the girl I was 20 years ago and I probably would have said I hated my mother. She was ruining my fife. She didn't understand me. She was so angry over anything that I didn't even know what she was angry over.

Ask me now. I cannot believe the things I put my mother through. I cannot believe I made her worry about my future. About what I was doing when I was supposed to be in school. About what would happen to me when I grew up.

Now that I have a child, I understand. I get it. I want him to be the best he can be. I don't want to lose my shit when he does something wrong but I totally want to kick his butt when he sasses me. And I cannot even think of when he starts dating. What's is she's a gold digger and wants all his mom's gold?

Fine, fine, I don't have any gold. But you know what I mean.

I don't even know what I mean.

All I know s having a child has made me appreciate my mom in so many ways.

Mom, thank you so much for raising me the way you did and I'm sorry for everything I did inspite of it.

Advice to any parent

Just read this and apply whichever criticism applies to your decisions. Because no matter what, somebody out there will find some way to undermine your decision and tell you how you'll forever scar your kid's psyche.

You want a natural childbirth? Freaking hippies. Want the epidural? Well obviously you're not woman enough.

You decide to breastfeed longer than a year? What a martyr. You have to formula supplement or feed? What a giver upper.

You decide to stay at home? Lazyass. You decide to go back to work? You don't love your child.

You decide to let the baby sleep with you? You murderous non-caring parent. You make the child sleep on their own? You are obviously too cold to be a good parent.


You decide to soothe the baby by carrying him and rocking him? You are going to spoil that child, you'll be carrying him to college. You let the baby cry it out? Holy cow you must not have a heart.

You let the child feed themselves as soon as they can hold food? You must be trying to choke your own child. You feed the child for as long as possible yourself? You must be a control freak.

You never leave the baby to go out alone or with each other? Your marriage must be suffering. You go out to dinner leaving the child with family or a caregiver? You are a horrid parent.

I haven't even covered a small percentage of what you'll be judged on. I could go on and on. Every little decision you make will have somebody rolling their eyes. So my ONLY advice to you is take everything with a grain of salt and go with your gut. Don't let others get you to doubt your decisions.

Parenting is so hard. It is the hardest thing I've ever done. I think it was harder being that I was 35 when I had Oli. Less energy, less patience, less flexibility. But, when his face lights up as soon as he sees us and he runs to us yelling mom and dad, those sleepless nights and those seemingly unending tantrums are so forgotten. When his little arms hug me around my neck and he kisses me, I don't doubt a single decision we've made regarding him.

We as parents need to bond together and support each other emotionally, heaven knows we need it. Leave the judgment at the door and ask a new parent how you can help.

And hey new parent? When somebody asks you that, seriously, tell them. Ask them to hold the baby so you can shower. So, you can nap. Ask them to pick up groceries for you. To make freezer meals for your recovery period. Ask them to pick you up a disgustingly high in calories meal from McDonalds because that's the only thing your brain wants. Ask them to come sit with you and hand you tissues as you cry on your couch without even knowing why you are crying. Ask who keeps late or early hours, so you know who you can call at what time. Don't be afraid to ask!

Conversations with Oliver

Random outburst from Oli, "mommy a girl."
Me: what, honey?
Oli: mommy a girl
Me: oh and what's Oli?
Oli: Oli a boy
Me: and daddy?
Oli: daddy a boy too
Me: and Smokey?
Oli: Smokey a puppy


After soccer, we took him to Dunkin Donuts for a treat. We get him a couple of munchkins. 
Jeff: say thank you to the man, honey
Oli: umbel mumble
Jeff: honey, speak up
Oli: THANK YOU MAN!!!

Snow day

We were those parents

Last night at a restaurant, we were those parents that carried a screaming, kicking, hysterical toddler out half an hour after we got there

We were those parents who handed over an iPhone 5 minutes after we were seated so we could hope to keep some peace till the food showed up

We were those parents who, in that whispering yell (oh you parents know what I mean), threatened our toddler with taking away toys, taking away the phone, whatever we could think of, in hopes of getting through 15 minutes of quiet dinner

We were those parents who alternated shoving food into our mouth, trying to keep the toddler from painting the table with noodles, and frantically waving at the waitress for our check and some boxes

We were those parents whose kid then immediately melted into a hysterically sobbing octopus who had more than the 2 arms and legs he was born with

We were those parents who rushed out of the restaurant looking directly at the path of escape, trying not to drop the food or the squirmy toddler

We were those parents your glances skittered over nervously, because you didn't want to meet our eyes either but you didn't want to miss it either, like a train wreck

We were those parents
Our child was that child

And I apologize to anybody in the past whose screaming child I dared look down on and judged ther parenting.

I wanted to put this out there in case you thought our household was filled with rainbow farting unicorns all the time.

5Ks by a procrastinator

go the following way. Takes 2 years and 22 months the first time. Gets so excited by the fact that she finished 1 that she immediately signs up for one a few months down the road. March, shouldn't be so freezing, should be able to keep the training up along the way.

Holidays come and go. Sister's wedding comes and goes. She ran one day on acation and felt like she was ok.

Come back to work, whole new year. Project takes off running, nay galloping. Meetings literally from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. Justify January passing by without a single run by thinking that it took 8 weeks to train before, she can do it in February and 3 weeks of March.

February comes and goes, gets a few walks on the treadmill in.

Suddenly, looks at the calendar, and it's *GASP* March 11; less than 2 weeks to the 5K and she has no idea if she can even walk the distance. So, she pulls her Vibrams on and heads to the gym. She runs, refuses to look at the display on the treadmill, just keeps on running. Breathes in, breathes out. Ugh, got to walk now, looks down, 1/2 mile. Walk another 1/2 mile and that's all she can handle.

Oh heck, it's March 18th now. The weekend was good. St. Patrick's Day party, dinner out family. Good Irish beer. No running. Ok, head to the gym and this time, plan to run at least a mile. She plans to drop off the treadmill as the mile finishes but she's going to run that mile, come hell or high water!

I am proud to say this procrastinator was able to complete 3.1 miles on the treadmill, after starting with a mile run and then alternating 1/4 miles of running and walking. I just have to do this everyday this week, so I don't embarrass myself Saturday.

proud that I finished the 3.1 miles

Holy cow, February is gone

Did time really move slower before we had a child? Or do we just notice it more now? Or maybe we just acknowledge it more. You know one thing I notice is ever since Oliver became mobile and talkative, it seems like the milestones hit quicker and quicker. It was easier to record when he rolled over, crawled, took his first step ... or went from grunting to clearly saying da-da when he wanted Jeff ... because it was months between those things. But, from walking to running to now galloping everywhere, and from the first word to the first sentence to the first phrase and now incessant questions every single moment ... feels like it takes mere days or hours between milestones. I cannot remember when he went from signing for more milk to asking for more milk to now stating "I want more milk NOW!" He is moving and growing and learning at the speed of a mile a minute. And even though we are awed and impressed, we'd like to ask him to slow down just a bit. And it's not because of my poor knees.

It hit me today that I was using this blog to keep track of him growing and our family changing, and now it's been a month since I have written anything. My brain doesn't retain information like it used to so unless I write it down, it's gone. One thing I absolutely want to remember and embarrass him with later in his life is the fact that he asked both Jeff and me to kiss his butt this weekend. He has gotten used to us kissing his boo-boos and asking if it's better that he said, during a diaper change, "my butt hurts, kiss it."

the attitude!

He is starting to grow a personality that has an attitude, not always a good one, but we can see him becoming his own person. He still loves the color purple. If I didn't tell him mommy hasn't washed his purple shirts, he'd wear them everyday. Pretty soon, he'll think his mother's the laziest woman on earth who takes weeks to wash a couple shirts or he'll realize I am fibbing. Overall, he's such a mix of Jeff and me. He's laid back like Jeff, but also has his cleanliness gene. The tiniest bit of something on his hands or feet and he comes to me to get it taken care of. He's also pretty social, which, I guess would be my fault ;-) He can be shy around people if he meets them for the first time, but most of the time, if I tell him to say hi/bye/blow a kiss/give a hug, he'll do it. And, if he's seen you a few times, he's pretty cool with going home with you.

So, please, won't somebody take a cute toddler home for a couple nights? Pretty please?

On a serious note, though I love that he's outgoing like me, I sometimes fear that he'll be too trusting with everybody. And might trust the wrong person someday. I guess it's on us as his parents to teach him that even though it's good to be friendly and nice to everyone around you, you have to be wary too. Ugh, this parenting thing comes with way too many grey hairs and mental anguish, doesn't it? And, I doubt it ever goes away. Now, I know why I should call my parents if I am going away someplace to let them know I got there ok. Or if I am going to be later than usual. Or just to say hi every other day. I am sorry, mom and dad, for not calling as often as I should and for making you worry all those years. I am also amazed you didn't throw the phrase "wait till you have a child," at me every other minute of my life. Having a child makes you appreciate what your parents did for you and cringe at the thought of what you put them through like nothing else.

His buddy Carl

Still loves his purple

You say hippy, I say cost effective

So, we are slowly going green. I have effectively replaced Ziploc bags in the house with these. The large sandwich bags I got from a coworker when his kids had fundraising sales for school but the small snack bags are from Sarah's Stitches. They are all dish washer safe. And look how cute!

Paper towels with these. I am trying to find the link on Bed, Bath & Beyond's site but I cannot find the pack of 10 cotton rags I got for $4.99. I also cut up a couple of old t-shirts, they work great for sopping up milk spills at the dining table, not that THAT happens a lot with a toddler around ;-)

And paper napkins with these. I got some from Kohls, some from Amazon, and I love them. You have to get the 100% cotton, and not the microfiber ones if you want good absorption. I love all the colors and I just store a few at a time on the tabletop. When we use them for dinner, I replace with a couple more colors.

So, why this move? Because we are suddenly tree huggers? Not really. I have wondered about the status of earth and where we are going with all our consumption and non-recyclable material for a while. But, nothing like having a child makes you face up to it. What we are leaving for our future generations didn't really click with me till I am facing that future generation every day. I want him to have a cleaner world, a healthier nature and a better future. So, this is my very small move towards that.

Oh, and it saves me money. Which means I might afford another vacation next year ;-) Just in case somebody thought it was all altruistic.

And, no post is complete without a photo of my giggling bug: