We refused to throw a big elaborate many-kids party for their birthday this year. They really wanted one and had the longest wish list started two days after their last birthday.
But we talked it through and they understood that we’re not willing to do that kind of exposure during COVID. And honestly now that they’re no longer at the age when kids do the whole classroom is invited thing, I simply don’t want to. PiC still wants to give them everything they want for their birthday, in the celebratory sense rather than the buy ALL THE THINGS way, but I don’t like going that overboard. So, as usual, we compromised. We probably paid about $100 for decorations, cake related stuff, and their presents. We paid another $200 for a really delicious meal from a local restaurant that adults and kids could all enjoy. That could have been Costco or other more expensive pizza, PiC suggested it, but I balked. If I have to host anything, I want to eat the good stuff. So we overspent, IMO, but for a long fun evening with a few good friends, and serving them a really nice dinner? I’m ok with that. It’s once a year, or in reality, once every four years since we haven’t had anyone over for their birthday since 2019.
At the end of the night when everyone left, they gasped: that was SO FUN.
The compromise was good for everyone. I wasn’t too exhausted to even exist, everyone had a good time, we had awesome leftovers but not too much. We sent cake home with our guests.
~~~~~
My mentor is one of the few people I can tell about my very honest parenting feelings. I’ve been feeling horrible guilt for all the conflict that JB and we have been having, and for how I just did NOT like my own child in those times. But “those times” have been so frequent these past months that it feels like I never like my own child these days, and what kind of monster can’t stand their own child??
Hearing her tell me “it’s normal to feel this way, it’s ok to feel this way, and you do NOT have to like your child every minute of every day” is balm for the soul. That lifted a burden I’d been weighed down by. So did, weirdly enough, having an adult be on JB’s side so that I could be frustrated about them. Somehow that freed me up to have my frustrations more than having an adult agree with me that they’re annoying because the latter then stirs up guilt over having raised an annoying child.
She understands my annoyance but she doesn’t share it and that also helped me to see JB in a different light. I want to like my kid all the time, but I can let myself off the hook for being human.
Life with Smol Acrobat
Six months ago, we borrowed a friend’s idea of swabbing Smol’s nose regularly so they’d be accustomed to nose swabbing enough to make COVID tests no big deal. They were curious and fine with it the first week. They were fine with it when we went for a PCR test. They were fine with it for another week.
Then suddenly they were not fine with it and all hell broke loose when we had to do another PCR. I have no idea what changed in their wee brain but it was like a switch flipped and NOPE. Tests have been a huge struggle ever since. They’ll see us swabbing and come by asking for a turn. Then turn and sprint off yelling no no no no! Bribery doesn’t work, distraction with audio, video or JB singing and dancing doesn’t work.
Fast forward to today, I swabbed their ears yesterday and they were cranky about it but I did it again today anyway. Today they relaxed and wanted “mo”. So I swabbed some mo’. And then mo’. Then “me” – they wanted to do it. So I gave them a swab and said, you can swab your nose. Only I do your ears. They were intrigued by this compromise and tentatively touched their nose a few times. I helped them get it into their nose gently. So of course the next go they jabbed their brain. Oops. But we laughed and they laughed and tried again. In the end, they and I gave both nostrils a good swabbing. But I’ll have to keep my hopes low: a new day may well bring a refusal to swab again.
This kid is so changeable.
~~~~~
Where JB was and still is Teflon against criticism, Smol is more like me: sullen and resentful of corrections. “Don’t eat the lotion!” is met with a grunt, crossed arms, thrashing, and anger. They feel the cut of a correction so deeply.
Pupdate
Ever since the holidays, Sera has been following me around the house more closely than ever before. It’s kind of cute, minus the tremendously toxic gas clouds she also emits.
She’s had her annual checkup and mostly she’s in good shape but she’s developing a touch of arthritis which the vet said to expect.
Precious Moments
Smol, getting put in jammies for bed: No no!
Smol, getting a lullaby: No no!
Smol, getting tucked in: No no no!
Smol, 1 minute after I shut the door behind me: zzzzzzzz.
~~~~~
JB: you’re not the boss of me!
Me: no? who is?
JB: me! I’m the boss of me and you’re the boss of you!!
Me: ah ok well you’re wrong, I’m definitely the boss of you BUT you’re welcome to be the boss of you and do everything you’re responsible for and taking the consequences when you don’t.
JB’s face: not like that!
~~~~~
I sneeze three times.
Smol: mom!! *Puts hand in front of face and huffs*
I’m a highly risk averse person, and that absolutely influences how I parent and what I let JB do. They’re still not allowed to cross the street or go to the store alone, though I’d wager I was probably doing that when I was close to this age. I was walking my dog to the vet alone by the time I was 13. We live on a very busy street with reckless drivers, and their level of attention is not nearly where it should be for something like this.
This article suggests that modern parenting is preventing kids from getting reasonable doses of stress, impairing their flexibility and growth. This is a question and a balance I struggle with.
I don’t feel the need to expose them to truly stressful situations like harassment and fighting but we also don’t want them to be Pillsbury doughboy soft.
We saw a neighbor kid walking their new puppy last year. I thought he was JB’s age. It took me aback, and made me reevaluate what I considered safe or unsafe for the kids. I mean, I still wouldn’t let JB walk Sera alone. Unlike neighbor dog, Sera outweighs JB and is a STRONG pibble. Seamus used to drag me on runs and I had to sprint to keep up with him in my 20s when I had experience with dogs. So this is me being sensible. Would I / we let them walk a small dog? Hm. I’d be willing to have them practice short solo jaunts. Maybe. But we aren’t likely ever to get a small dog. I’ve had them and I love them but I tend to need a big dog to get my arms around for a therapeutic hug.
We had some conflict the other day when they came shrieking about a bug in the garage. I was quite impatient with them for panicking and not investigating the situation a little bit more before running to me. It was dead! I took care of that one but I made them sweep out the second dead bug they found. They were highly resentful but this feels well within their capabilities to hold a broom and push a dead bug out the door.
I try to give them more “advanced” responsibilities in our day to day lives but I do still worry that I’m sheltering them too much.
Life with Smol Acrobat
The new year brought a few happy changes: they seem to be eating more, and on their own. By itself, not eating much wouldn’t bother me, it’s the fact that they were constantly distracted and wouldn’t just eat their little portion and GO. They’d dilly dally and mess about and then repeatedly come back asking for more little bits. It’s such a pain!
Now that they have more of an appetite, they are more focused on eating until they’re finished and then we can move on. I hope this sticks.
Their language is developing more, they’re trying to gabble out more syllables if not not words. Some words are coming through.
I’m less enamored with the memory and object permanence related development. Specifically to do with vaccines. They’d gotten their bivalent booster and instead of forgetting all about it a minute later, they remembered. They wouldn’t stop talking about it. They kept pointing at the injection site and telling us “poke”. But they also wanted to turn back around and go back to the vaccine clinic, asking for “more” so I’m not clear on what was going on there.
Pupdate
Sera’s been extra snuggly of late and I like it. Though it is hard to work with her constantly prodding me with her nose for attention, I like that she’s been coming to hang out with me during the work day. Usually I can’t convince her to come into the office, much less hang out for petting.
Sera’s sweater arrived and it’s Very Cute! She’s so snuggly in it!
Precious Moments
JB: I wish the laundry would just wash itself so I could put it away faster.
Boy howdy, me too! On all counts.
*****
JB looking at a McLaren: hey! That looks like a Hot Wheel!
I found myself explaining US foreign policy, because they wanted to know why we didn’t think their auntie should go touristing in Iraq. We had to explain that generally speaking Iraqis don’t have much reason to like Americans and that led to how the US had used the CIA to secretly mess about elections in many places, including South America. We had to resort to using a fairly simple and potentially terrible analogy.
I could see my child-free friend’s eyes signalling they thought I was opening a dangerous door but I went with it anyway: it’s like if the neighbors decided that Dad and I weren’t doing a good job because they want us to do things for them and we aren’t. So they’d come here and take us away and replace us with new parents who would do what they wanted.
*pregnant pause*
JB: but I don’t want new parents.
PiC passing by: thanks!
Me: Right, so it didn’t matter what the people in those countries wanted. American politicians wanted specific leaders in power so they manipulated the elections, and put the leaders THEY wanted in power, even though it’s not our country and not our business.
I don’t know if they got it. I don’t doubt that most of it went over their heads.
Life with Smol Acrobat
All in one weekend, a bunch of words came together: up! bye!
Hug made it into the practice rotation (uck!) as did cut (ack! with a chopping hand motion). “Cuk!” = cook. “Book” is spot on. Love that. “Muk” for milk.
Used to be, they wouldn’t even try. They’d just babble a string of liquid sounding syllables or yell.
Conversations with them have been largely guesswork and mostly still are. We recently took a class on supporting speech for toddlers who are late developers and that’s helping us help them. We learned that their lack of mimicry has more to do with their not being ready than an inability and that just repeating the word that we want them to try 3-4 times, by itself, helps more than prompting. Oh. That sort of explains why they balked anytime we said “say bye!”
Now they enjoy saying bye out loud and on time, sometimes, which is neat. Some days they won’t STOP saying bye.
Also! PiC finally gets to be dada! He’s been designated “mama” for the past two years.
Pupdate
I went through old pictures of when we first brought Seamus to meet Sera at the rescue and brought her home with us. It made me so sad. She’s slowly warmed up to us but she loved him so much. As did we all.
She’s been hovering by me a lot more lately this month, which is unusual, but I kind of like it. Except when she follows me so closely I have no room to turn around.
Precious Moments
While giving Smol Acrobat their Tylenol, I mused aloud, I really should have given this to you before I brushed your teeth. They abruptly stopped halfway through drinking their water and slid off their bed.
Me: Where are you going?
They signed (vaguely) “toothbrush”.
Me: Oh! I was … ok. I was talking to myself buuuuut you understand words.
*****
Smol has gotten in the habit of taking their trike out for a ride but refusing to come home on the trike or under their own power. We’ve ended more than a few walks in tears because they demand to be carried and my bones demand non-compliance lest I am wrecked by carrying them.
Smol: “uck?” (hug)
Me: sure, HUG.
Smol: up?
Me: No, no up. Mama HELP. Mama will help you push it home.
Smol: Oh. Uck?
Me: Sure, I’ll give you a hug.
Smol, “now that you’re down here again!”: up!
Me: no up. Only HELP.
Smol: oh. *Shuffles feet* Ok.
*****
The kids found their little wind up bunny and chick toys, so they started playing with them and predictably one of them broke almost immediately.
JB complained, why doesn’t the bunny go far?
Me: might be that you messed with it too much when it was running, and it got a little broken. *test the bunny a few times*
Smol Acrobat grabs for the bunny.
Me: no, wait, Mama’s helping it right now. Hang on. It’s a little ouch ouch.
JB: it got SHOT.
Me: …..??!!
*****
I turned off the hood. Smol’s head popped up, issues guttural roars, pointing at the stove.
“I turned it off!”
Smol: *guttural roar”
Oh yeah, I turned it off, we didn’t need it on anymore.
When we talk about small day to day things, what happened at recess, what events are upcoming at school, how they deal with conflicts, I catch myself having reactions that are projections of how I would feel (present day me) in those situations and feeling that way FOR JB. It’s hard for me to practice separating that reaction in the moment even though I know that it’s best for me to take a step back and let them have their experiences in their own way.
Mostly that’s about the bad stuff like kids being thoughtless or if they’re anxious about being left out because their good friend moved away (there’s a big trigger for me, abandonment) or if they’re grumping about the work (signs of potential slackerhood are a huge trigger for me as they remind me of my dad and brother). I’m trying my hardest not to fix, rescue, or solve for them. But how do I keep holding my feelings at bay so they don’t spill over onto JB?
I direct my venting to friends, or here, and hold out until therapy when I can safely be frustrated without worrying I’m stunting their emotional growth or making them feel like they can’t talk to us.
We finally started up JB’s allowance after an inadvertent kick in the pants from their uncle and auntie (but that kick presented perfect motivation for JB).
We had initially put together a basic framework: this isn’t for the chores themselves which they are expected to do regardless. This base rate ($1.50 per week) is for doing all chores and responsibilities without complaint and without endless reminders. When they volunteer for new chores without being prompted, they get a bonus quarter. They’re required to put half in their long term savings bank and half in their saving to spend bank.
They (and PiC) both thought $1.50 was too low. He tried to negotiate for $5 a week but I held firm. It’s way too easy for them to spend. They need to learn what it feels like to save up for things and that’s not going to happen if they have enough to immediately buy whatever they want every couple of weeks. Plus, the opportunity to earn bonus money weekly is incentivizing their eye for spotting chores that need doing, and that’s something I really want them to develop.
We’ll see how it plays out long term but here’s where their uncle and auntie come in: they each offered to match JB’s savings for spending at the end of a year. They’re going to triple their spending money in one fell swoop. They’re absolutely jazzed about this and on the first day we started up, before they had even established the bonus money, they had volunteered to take over washing some spectacularly grubby slippers that I was scrubbing. The next day, they leapt to sweep up a mess that Smol made. My kid is immensely bribeable.
Week two went well too: they only had a couple reminders to do chores which isn’t excessive or in violation of the rules. They didn’t gripe at all, they just figured out when to do them and did them. Then they hit a jackpot coming up with a yardwork task on their own. I offered them a rate of 25Ā¢ per half bucket, because they were handpicking the stuff all over the yard, and then PiC blew up the whole thing by taking out the big rake and making the task ridiculously easy for them. Way to go, dude. Though, it was incredibly painful doing the payout at the end, not only because I needed to find an additional $7 in quarters but because JB’s grasp of money math is terrible. We’re going to have to keep working on this obviously.
Week three: We hit a snag on the weekend with some dire warnings, and then got back on track.
*****
We know that it’s best to teach JB how to handle disappointment when it comes because they’re going to have disappointments in life and we don’t want them hobbled by emotions they can’t handle or to become super entitled if we try to insulate them from all disappointment.
It’s sometimes hard to stop the “rescue” kneejerk reaction, though. Especially when they’re hurt by someone else. I think that’s a me thing anyway, before you add the parenting aspect.
*****
Mom superpowers I wish I had: the ability to cut onions without tearing up.
*****
Great reading at this age: Castle Hangnail and the Hamster Princess series, both by Ursula Vernon
Life with Smol Acrobat
Some of my favorite things about Smol this month: how they respond to lots of things I say with “oh!” and it sounds so much like “that makes sense!” or “oh ok I get it now” or “ahh I didn’t know that.” Mostly it’s none of those things but I love how it sounds that way.
Like when I say, “can I finish reading this page?” because they’re trying to turn it before I’m ready. “Oh!” and they stop turning the page.
Or “you left your water over there!” “Oh!” as they go in the absolutely wrong direction.
“Put your socks and shoes away.” “Oh!”
*****
They’re displaying a surprising amount of sentience the second half of this month. They’re talking to me with purpose: pointing out when something has fallen, passing by the office and telling me “ja ja ja ja!” (I’m going that way!) and then “jia jia jia jia” on the way back (arms in the air: I won!).
They’ve started hiding from us as play: tucking themselves under chairs and tables to peep out with a mischievous grin.
*****
Unfortunately we have hit the Terrible 2-4s ahead of schedule. They aren’t 2 yet! This is going to be a long decade. So much irrational hysteria. So much kicking and screaming and tears on the tough days.
Consecutive reasons they were sobbing for ten minutes one morning:
They asked for yogurt with granola
So I served them a cup of yogurt with granola. That started the waterworks.
I offered to help them eat. š
They wanted a hug. š
They did not want a hug. š
They wanted their yogurt and I gave it to them. š
They wouldn’t eat the yogurt so I moved it. š
I took advantage of their wide open crying mouth and stuffed a bit of yogurt in there.
That stopped the crying until they swallowed and the yogurt disappeared. š
*****
Books they come back to five times a day:
Down at the Beach
Noodles for Baby
Hush now, Banshee
My Kite is Stuck and other stories
Pupdate
Smol has been learning to help me with feeding Sera. The problem with this is they get Very Attached to Routine. In the mornings, I add some joint powder and a cranberry extract tablet to her bowl, to go with the kibble and chewed fruit that Smol Acrobat previously tasted and refused.
In the afternoons, she just gets kibble.
Smol’s job is to bring me the powder and the tablets. But they don’t have a job if I only give her kibble! So they insist on the whole shebang and then (bizarrely) scolds her when she starts to eat. Not sure what that’s about.
That done, they put away the kibble and the jars and then waits (very) impatiently for Sera to finish eating to give her a dental treat.
Precious Moments
JB: You know an easy way to have flower girls at your wedding?
Me: How?
JB: You just give birth to girls. Then you can get married and have your flower girls!
Me: …… There’s nothing easy about that….
JB: Yeah but then you’d have flower girls!
*****
Washing a bottle out for Smol Acrobat’s milk, they sounded oddly… content? Behind me? That’s not usually a good sign. I turned to find they’d been happily stuffing their face with something they found on the counter. Usually we have nuts and crackers there, all things they’re allowed to have, but we don’t usually let them serve themselves.
Imagine my surprise when I discovered they had found a secret stash of Sugar Babies and was in the process of gluing their mouth shut with them! I confiscated the few left in the container, and then peeled the lower jaw mold of Sugar Baby stickiness off their bottom teeth. Eewww.
*****
Smol has some weird priorities.
Wood block? Stick it up the nose.
Pencil? Stick it up the nose.
Pork chop? Stick it up the nose.
COVID test? Absolutely not, get away from me!
*****
Smol Acrobat signs “open” at the vacuum.
No, it needs to sleep now just like Mommy.
Smol: oh.
*****
Smol Acrobat signs *milk*.
I offer a cup of milk.
They throw their hands in the air: no no no!
Me: Did you want milk?
Smol: Yah.
Me: This is milk.
Smol: Yah. *takes it like they knew that all along*
*****
Smol: mum mum!
Me: that’s dad.
Smol looking straight at me, still patting PiC’s arm: MAAAAAAAMMMMM.
One of my primary directives is to keep my kids safe. JB had an incident at camp a little while ago where an aide wasn’t respecting their “stop” (playing some game) and while the camp did everything they should have, it brought up some feelings I can’t reconcile and I’ve been sitting with that. I know we can’t protect them forever so part of keeping them safe is teaching them how to handle conflict and difficult situations as far as they are able, and to ask for help when they can’t handle it.
I’m really bad at the latter myself. I hate asking for help, I feel vulnerable and useless and weak if I do. But I also know, in my head at least, that that is ingrained from childhood and not the objective truth. Having not had the experience of knowing when I could ask for help as a child, it’s hard for me to direct JB in a constructive way at times.
Aside from that mundane practical truth that we need to be preparing them to fend for themselves in the future, though, is the stark reality that there are few to no places we can promise are safe. We cannot even protect them adequately as children from disease and mass shootings. This makes me so angry at the world, in so many ways.
*****
Speaking of safety, we keep seeing a parent drop their second grader (JB confirmed their identity) off on a corner of a busy street and gesturing at them to cross alone. At first, I thought it was just a bit dicey but the adults were were still watching so it didn’t seem too bad. Then they got a lot more reckless: the parent was ONLY watching their kid and not the other kids crossing in the crosswalks. They also encouraged their kid to run out in the middle of the street to grab a mask from the driver’s side instead of pulling over. I don’t know what their deal is but it’s not great how often their kid has nearly been run over or hit by a car.
I don’t know when JB will be allowed to cross streets alone but I think we’ll be easing our way into having them practice with closer supervision. There are some terrible drivers by the school. (more…)
I didn’t show (feel?) any empathy for my mom when I was growing up. I remember her getting mad at me for not sympathizing about her moments of (physical) pain. I can’t remember FEELING any concern for her when she had minor moments of OUCH. I don’t have any memory of that feeling so assumed that I didn’t though of course memory is imperfect. It’s like how we don’t have an equivalent of “bless you” / “gesundheit” / “salud” for sneezing that I know of in our native language. I just didn’t register an “ouch” as a thing to respond to. I have the same sort of numb non-empathy / impatient reaction to when JB is being super dramatic about relatively small (to me obviously) things like dripping juice on their art and declaring it ruined.
I worry about illness, serious injury, and deep emotional distress, but I don’t over the small things.
I shared this with my therapist in a recent session. I had always assumed it was because I was a uncaring kid and that’s carried over into adulthood. Her theory is a little different. She thinks that I never had a model for being “weak” (having emotions, being vulnerable, needing empathy), so I didn’t know how to respond to it in others. I still don’t, apparently, because I struggle deeply with parenting JB through their moments of small crisis. I get angry first, or I get annoyed. Especially because JB is given to random dramatic declarations to get attention when my reaction isn’t what they want: “You don’t love me” and “Fine, I’ll do (whatever happened to them) to your stuff!”
I hate dramatics, so I get more mad or non-responsive.
Eventually I might find myself remembering that they’re a kid and of course the small things matter deeply to them and that I’m supposed to be showing them empathy but that’s usually a long haul from Point A to Point B.
In that recent juice incident, I had to talk them through the fact that we all make mistakes. We all have the choice to learn from them or not, to ask for help or not, and of course it’s going to be sad, disappointing and frustrating but if our choice is then to tantrum and go on the attack and destroy things, people are much less inclined to offer help. As an example, I shared that I made a mistake on every single one of my sewing projects this year. If I had blamed my sewing sisters like JB blamed me for their drips, they would never have had the opportunity to point out a possible fix that made the projects better than the original plan. I don’t know how much that sank in but I made a suggestion for them to fix their project and they started to sing “I wonder, what if, let’s try” so thanks to Sesame Street for that assist.
Life with Smol Acrobat
That clean up song is like mind control. I was amazed how well it worked on JB in daycare but I assumed the environment, being surrounded by other little kids doing the cleaning too, had more to do with it than the song itself. They’ve only experienced it at home obviously and it still works! Not as well, they need a lot of direction, but it works.
*****
They’ve finally come around on scrambled eggs! A staple in our household they’ve always refused but they have come around!
Fun new thing: if they’re in the mood and you kneel down, and say hug? Smol will run to you fast as they can and throw themselves into your arms.
Their other new thing: playing trust falls with me even if I am nowhere near them. They think the scramble to catch them is HIGH-larious. They think it’s even funnier when they crash and fall to the ground.
*****
They’re a pretty self contained little soul right now but these songs make them boogie a little (which is a lot for them):
Pupdate
Poor Sera experienced an overdose of Smol affection this month and she did not like it. They’ve been wanting to hug, kiss, and nibble on her the way they do to me. I don’t like the nibbles either! I also don’t know why they think it’s so funny, but both my children enjoy/enjoyed biting on me and it’s weird.
Sera is a big target for Smol’s affection because they really like animals and especially their own doggy so we’ve had to be extra vigilant in intervening when they get TOO “loving”.
Sera’s benefiting from Smol’s picky eating, in the meantime. We don’t share people food but fruit doesn’t count and when Smol pulls that really annoying “chew it up and spit it out” thing with their (dog safe) fruit, Sera gets the chunks. She’s very pleased with that.
Precious Moments
JB: If you do rock paper scissors with three people and one does rock and one does paper and one does scissors, does that mean it’s a tie?
…. That’s a good question.
PIC: where’s JB?
Smol points at JB.
Where’s Daddy?
Smol points at PiC.
Where’s Mommy?
Smol pats PiC’s arm.
Where’s JB?
JB walking past a test kit I’d used: can I take a COVID test?
