The why stage

Has begun.

Why does paper come out of the printer?

Why are you sitting in dad’s office chair?

Why are the cookies new?

Why are you wearing a purple shirt today?

Why is there paper on the street?

Why is my model car now on the shelf instead of the ottoman?

Why don’t we have spider lights on our window any more?

Why did the object fall? Why, mama, why?


My answer is usually met with several more whys, without an end. Yet the questions are asked with such sincerity, I feel obligated to do my best to answer.

I imagine this is challenging for any parent, testing the limits of their knowledge. But the fact that I’m asked, and must answer, these questions in Spanish makes it doubly difficult for me.

I think I need to start carrying around my Spanish dictionary. And perhaps Mark’s wikireader.

Daylight savings was good to me

An extra hour over the weekend, plus Mark taking River out for large
chunks means I got a lot done. Household tasks, organizing, three
social events with friends and even some work. It was great.

When your kid sleeps 11-12 hours to start with, it doesn’t really
matter if he gets up an hour earlier. The first night, there was no
effect. On subsequent nights, he got up at 7 instead of 8. No biggie.

River strongly ties darkness into the concept of night and the need to
sleep. As soon as it starts getting dark, he’ll mention that it will
soon be time to sleep. Since he normally goes to bed at 8 and it’s
been plenty dark by then, we’ve been having an easy time with bedtime.
The darkness coming earlier will only transition him into sleep mode
earlier. No problem there.

I have a hard time getting up when it’s dark and an even harder time
commuting in the dark. I am especially loathe to walk through the
forest along the train tracks in the dark, which is part of my
commute. So if it’s dark, I’ll go to work later rather than brave a
walk in the scary woods. My preferred work schedule is to start and
end on the early side, so more light in the morning makes this easier.

All that to say that with all the parents complaining about the time
change, here is one who has embraced it. I very much appreciate the
extra hour and the change in lighting.

Taking kids to the polls

Just have to say I love this photo. I took River to the polls with me
On Tuesday (he also came with us when we voted for Obama). He pushed
all the buttons as I instructed “that one, now that one, now that
one,” then he got to push the big red button to send it all off.

Later, when we passed a small group of people at an intersection
rallying for their candidates, he asked what they were doing and I did
my best to explain.

Government, politicians, it’s probably all blissfully over his head
right now. But he has voted. And pushing buttons is fun.

Listening to my child speak

I still get a strange thrill listening to my child speak English. Since I’ve never communicated with him in English, it’s like listening to him speak a foreign language. For a long time, he spoke it with an accent and he spoke it more hesitantly, with less skill than in Spanish.

But now he’s caught up and seems to be quite fluent in both languages. I wonder what it is that captivates me so, given that I speak English most of the day.

I think it’s the knowledge that none of his English comes from me. Knowing that I haven’t taught him a word in English makes me recognize that every single word he utters, every construction he puts together, comes from a source other than me. That despite how important I am in his life, at this young age, he’s capable of picking up an entire language without my participation. If he can do that, before the age of 3, I just imagine how much else he is soaking in from the world around him. The influences are small, but they accumulate and I see the massive effect in his fluency. He is already a part of the wider world.

Spring flowers in cold autumn showers

I generally tend to seek happiness from non-material things. But I have to admit, this umbrella added a couple of points to my contentment index today. How fun to see a bright spring flower on a cold, rainy day.

My theory, yet to be proven, is that I’m less likely to lose this umbrella. The bright pink color may provide a visual reminder. But mainly, I just enjoy seeing it enough that perhaps I’ll be more likely to remember to pick it up.




Extra joy comes from seeing River’s appreciation of my beautiful umbrella, then sitting at the table with him to enjoy molasses cookies, milk and kale chips together. He raises his mug of milk and asks to clink glasses. It’s a bright afternoon, despite the rain outside.

Monster brownies

We were invited to a Halloween party and asked to bring our scariest
dish. I was going to try these but then came across this recipe and changed plans.

They weren’t very tasty, probably because I used a mix and I’m just
not impressed with brownie mixes these days. But they were a lot of
fun to make and they looked good. River had the job of unwrapping all
of the mini Reese’s. I applied the white frosting, then he put on the
chocolate chips as pupils. I had to go out and buy some supplies to
make the hair, but I have big cake decorating plans for River’s
upcoming birthday, so it makes sense to start collecting some basic
supplies.




At work unwrapping the Reeses





A plateful of eyes




Our monster brownies


If I were to make them again and actually wanted them to taste good,
I’d look for a good brownie recipe. But for fun and a good
impression, they definitely did the job.

Halloween

This was the first Halloween that River was able to anticipate,
understand and fully participate in, which made it so much fun. For
the first time ever, I put up Halloween decorations. We went on a
walk through the woods, we went trick or treating, we attended a
party. Throughout, he never expressed the slightest discomfort with
the skeletons, spiders and witches, but accepted it all as part of the
fun. He enjoyed the trick or treating and loved his pumpkin basket,
but his interest was more in the impressive decorations than in the
receipt of candy.

“I don’t need any more candy,” he said, after visiting several houses.
But he loved seeing the other kids in costume and examining the yard
decorations.

He wore an Elmo costume that we got for free and was very well
received. Even a middle-schooler we passed on the street said it was
a very cool costume. Hopefully it will still fit next year.

Since he didn’t go to all that many houses, his stash of candy wasn’t huge. I
let him have several treats on Halloween itself, plus he ate a copious
amount of peanut butter frosting, while helping me make the monster
brownies. He did get some less damaging treats – like pretzels and
packets of goldfish and teddy grahams. So after he went to bed, I
cleared out the corn syrup, highly artificial and highly
gooey/cavity-causing bits, leaving some lollipops, the less harmful
treats and a selection of toys, stickers and other knick-knacks. I
think the pumpkin still had enough stuff in it for him to go through
that he won’t notice or mind the disappearance. But I’m not sure how
to handle it in future years.

I think Halloween is going to become an important celebration in our
house for at least the next decade or so. It’s so much fun to see his
excitement, wonder, and enjoyment. It’s also one of the only times we
get to see some of our neighbors. For a short while, we all get to
become kids again.

What is your Halloween candy policy? How does it work for you?

Mr. Bear visits the library

Our library held an animal sleepover recently. When River went to pick up Mr. Bear, he received this photo, showing what his stuffed animal was up to in his absence. What a cute idea.

Realizing goals as I go along

This afternoon Mark was in charge of River and I was supposed to be off. I heard him wake River up from his nap after only an hour of sleep. I could tell from River’s cry (normally he gets up cheery and talkative) that he was still exhausted. I felt a pang in my heart that he should have to get up when he’s still tired. Perhaps I could relate, since I was in bed taking my own nap, and also resented being woken up. I thought River would be crabby all evening as a result.

When I went into his room and urged Mark to go do his errand without River, River’s head fell onto my shoulder and I knew he was still tired. I sang him a song and told him I’d put him back in his crib with some cars and books, for quiet time. I wasn’t sure he’d fall back asleep after such an awakening, but at least he could have a little time to transition alone to wakefulness. I don’t think he touched the cars or books and we woke him up an hour and a half later.

The pain I felt at him possibly being forced to get up when he wasn’t ready made me realize that it’s quite important to me to have a well-rested child. That wasn’t a goal I set out with when I became a parent. But it’s one that over time has assumed importance.

River having adequate rest has benefits for us. It means we have more down time and that when he’s awake, our job is easier because he’s generally in a good mood. I also know that research points to adequate rest as having all kind of implications for learning and intellectual development. But mostly, I think I just appreciate how nice it is to wake up fully rested and to greet the day prepared. It’s no fun to slug through a day. River will have plenty of time to experience that in his life. As long as I can, I’d like to protect him from demands that cut into his sleep and let him enjoy the world on his schedule.

Handling aggression from other toddlers

River is not good at handling aggression from other kids his age. He is sweet, he shares, he’s calm and happy. So when other kids are possessive, mean or physical, he doesn’t know how to react. He appears to be shocked, as though his concept of the world is caving in. As parents, we also feel at a loss of how to deal with it.

This weekend we happened upon a block party on our street. It was hosted by a group of houses where there is a heavy concentration of small children. So it was a nice opportunity to meet some other families nearby and River had a blast with all the toys and activities set up in the street.

From a distance, we saw River playing with a razor scooter. Then we saw a little boy run over to him and wrest it away from him. River tried to resist, but failed and walked away. I figured sorting out possessions is best figured out by kids and I didn’t intervene.

But then I watched this kid block River’s path as he tried to walk away. The toddler then put both of his hands on River’s shoulders, near his neck, and tried to physically stop him. River shouted “No, don’t do that,” but his eyes were filled with fear and a sense of disbelief.

At this point, I intervened. No one has the right to physically intimidate my child, or any child, or any adult. When River saw me, he buried his head on my shoulder and cried.

The boy’s parents didn’t see the details of what had happened. His father may have seen that he caused River to cry, but he didn’t inquire into the matter.

A little later, River was sitting at a table, painting a pumpkin and minding his own business when this same tyke reappeared. He stepped right up to River’s face and said something in a very aggressive tone about him needing to go inside. River immediately burst into tears.

The boy’s mother saw this happen and told her son he needed to be nice. I told her he had physically intimidated River not long before and that is why he was so upset. The mother told the boy to be nice and to offer River some gifts from the prize bucket, which he promptly did. The mom said he was tired.

The parents seemed like perfectly nice people. But this kid, about two months older than River, was mean and aggressive. My instinct as a parent is to keep River away from him. If River were to encounter situations like this in school or childcare with any frequency, I’d be tempted to remove him. I just don’t see any reason for him to feel frightened or threatened. I know one needs to learn to make their way in the world, but is learning to fight at age 2 or 3 really the way to do it? Part of my brain is telling me to not be a helicopter parent and to let him be independent and figure things out. Another part of me is telling me there is no positive benefit to him being intimidated by other kids and if others aren’t able to control their own children, or the environment where the children are interacting, it’s my job to keep him away from these kids.

In terms of allowing independence, I think I’m pretty liberal. I have a huge amount of trust in him and will allow him to explore, wander and try a lot of new things on his own (example – use garden shears to cut flowers at farm at age 2.5) without my intervention.

I feel pretty confident in his ability to take care of himself and his environment. Where that confidence wanes is where other kids get involved. Neither he nor I have any control over the way they behave.

The next day, we met a friend at a children’s museum. Her daughter is about six months younger than River and significantly smaller. My friend said her daughter is in the “terrible twos” and is having a difficult time sharing. She says her daughter will arrive at the playground and think the entire playground is hers.

There were several instances in which she wouldn’t share with River. While the mom tried to insist that her daughter share, generally River walked away and I was able to distract him. But in one instance, she came up and wrested a wheelbarrow out of River’s hands, sending him to my shoulder again in tears.

I’m sympathetic to parents whose children are aggressive. There was one instance, when River was about 18 months, where I saw him push another little tyke from behind, without cause. It was a horrible feeling as a parent to see my own child provoke and potentially hurt another. It made me wonder what I could be doing wrong. I felt ashamed.

I’ve read books aimed at parents of what are sometimes called “spirited” boys, which reassures them that aggression and misbehavior is normal, that they will grow out of it, and that the parents need to implement appropriate consequences. Which is all fine and understandable. But the consequences come after the act. And the act involves hurting another child. I don’t want my child to be the target that other kids learn their lessons from.

We’re in this strange situation where we have a physically large, solidly built child (in the upper percentiles for height and weight), who is physically very risk-averse (he’s almost three and just started walking up and down the stairs without assistance this month – no surprise, he’s never fallen) and emotionally very gentle, understanding and analytical.

Our current strategy has been to identify those kids we think are not good influences on River and limit his contact with them, while promoting his contact with the kids he clearly plays well with. But starting now, and increasingly as he gets older, he will be in situations where I don’t know the kids or how they behave, nor will I necessarily have any knowledge of what happens to him there. I’m going to join a class trip to the pumpkin patch later this week, primarily in order to get a better sense of who the other kids in River’s preschool are and to see if I can identify some Spanish-speaking kids with whom it might be worth trying to cultivate friendships. At the moment, I know virtually nothing about them.

I see plenty of articles on dealing with bullies at older ages, as well as on how parents and teachers can handle aggressive toddlers. But I don’t see much on what to do with non-aggressive toddlers. What is the best strategy for helping them become confident, independent and integrated with society, while also protecting them from unnecessary stress or harm?

Smart phone babes and toddlers

A recent article in the New York Times addresses the use of smart phone by 1, 2 and 3-year olds.

My husband got a smart phone a couple of weeks ago. Or rather, I bought it for him. I had promised him a storm chasers tour as a 40th birthday present. But he decided he’d rather have a piece of technology. He says this phone has made his life complete and he’s a better and a happier person. He insists I would be a better and a happier person if I had a smart phone too, which I doubt.

Given how much he treasures it, I expected he’d try to keep it away from River, who shows an interest and a propensity to figure out anything electronic. While he doesn’t allow River to manipulate it, he does use it to entertain him.

“I want cat!” River will call out, and Mark goes to an interactive kitty on the Droid, where River can pet it and make it speak.

Mark will lay on the couch and River presses in alongside him to watch the screen. One afternoon, when they were in this position for at least 40 minutes, I expressed concern that it seemed like a lot of screen time. Mark said he was watching YouTube videos of things that interested River, like dolphins and whales.

Perhaps it is a good thing to have immediate access to vivid real-life images. When I come across an unfamiliar word or term in a book, it’s a huge help to be able to google it and see a photo. But I also think that interacting with the real world is equally, perhaps more, important, and Mark tends to be impatient when River is entranced with a flower, a tree or a storefront window while on a stroll.

If you have a smartphone, do you let your kids use it? What do you think is the right balance of teaching technology and making sure kids are engaged with the world?

Birthday party madness

Today a colleague asked my opinion on birthday planning for her soon-to-be three year old. She feels obligated to invite all ten kids in her son’s preschool room, even though he just moved up to preschool and barely knows them. She also thinks she needs to invite another ten kids from an adjacent preschool class who share a room. She was saying that her son gets overwhelmed in the big party places, but didn’t know where she could hold a party for 20 kids that wasn’t overwhelming.

While we have attended most of the parties we’ve been invited to, and some have been at formal facilities, we have never thrown one ourselves. So I don’t think I was of much help. I told her I’ve also been thinking of how to celebrate River’s third birthday. I found myself torn between wanting to limit it to three kids, per his age, as I’d like to stick with, between wanting to foster interaction with Spanish-speaking kids, between wanting to see some of my own friends with kids, and wondering how to navigate the kids who speak Spanish vs. the kids who speak English option.

I’ve also been feeling like we haven’t seen our own friends enough lately, but I’m not up for throwing an adult party and a birthday party in the final months of my pregnancy. So my most recent idea was to have a brunch for our friends, ask them to contribute a dish instead of a gift, and have birthday cake and ice cream at the end. It would be a bigger crowd than we’d otherwise have for a party, but I think River would be satisfied, there would be lots of kids to play with, he wouldn’t end up with a pile of presents, we’d get to see our friends, and my preparation would be limited to making a cake and an entrée and getting the house in order. Since the focus would be on adults, I wouldn’t have to worry about organizing things for the kids. Mark is OK with this idea, so it’s currently the frontrunner. I do want it to be special for River, but have been thinking of making it special mainly via the cake and perhaps some decorations.

I suggested a smaller, lower-key play center to my friend, saying perhaps her son would be less overwhelmed there. She said she was concerned that without organized games, the older kids in his class, almost four years old, would be bored, despite the room full of toys to play with.

“But isn’t the focus on your child on his birthday?” I asked. “Who cares if a couple of kids from his daycare don’t think it’s the best party they’ve ever been to?”

She seemed to be torn. She mentioned that she hasn’t seen her friends with kids enough recently either, but that inviting them plus the preschool classmates would be too many guests. Otherwise, she could only invite them if enough preschool classmates declined and there was room.

I’m just glad I’m not facing that stress. I admit, I’ve been to some places where I’ve thought it would be cool to have a party, like the children’s museum we recently visited. But if we do that someday, I want it to be because it’s special for River and because it’s worth the money, not because an institution has set a norm that every kid is supposed to throw some big party and invite everyone, whether they know him and care about him or not.

This is when I’m glad we’re in a low-income preschool. Just to attend the parties of 20 classmates and bring 20 gifts can be a real financial burden, not to mention hosting a party or multiplying this all by two or three or more for families with more than one child. I feel a bit guilty sending River to school with a $40 lunchbox, knowing that most of the kids in his class can’t afford something like that.

A Mexican mother told me how sad her kindergartener is because his classmates throw these big parties. Since he can’t afford to match them, and is ashamed of doing something smaller, he does nothing at all for his birthday. I see no reason to set up those expectations for toddlers.

I know the pressure may hit us one day, or perhaps just the temptation of letting someone else handle the work. In the meantime, I’m glad to know that even though I’ll be full-term pregnant by River’s birthday, we can escape the party madness for one more year.

How do you set norms and expectations for parties in your family? How do you decide how many to invite and where and how to host it? If there is a tendency to invite the whole class and you have resisted that, have there been any negative repercussions?

Being pregnant means you can't give airplane rides

When we first told River about my pregnancy, he didn’t really seem to process it. I told him again, a few weeks later, when he asked me for an airplane ride. I was too far along to be able to place my feet against his chest and lift him into the air with my legs. I felt bad denying his request, and explained why I couldn’t do it. That time, he seemed to understand.

There has been no more mention of airplane rides since that discussion weeks ago, and in fact, I’d forgotten about them.

Last night Mark pointed out my belly to River and how the baby in there would be coming out in a few months.

“Your stomach is very big,” River said.

“Yes,” I agreed.

“That means you can’t give airplane rides.”

At first I was taken aback. What does a pregnancy have to do with airplane rides? Then I remembered how I’d combined explaining the news to him with a denial of his request for an airplane ride.

“Yes, you are right,” I said. “After the baby comes I can give you airplane rides again.”

“Si,” he agreed, seemingly comfortable with the idea that rides would come again and that waiting for this bump to grow and then disappear is nothing out of the ordinary.

I know that memory should be functioning at this age. I imagine it starts much earlier than when we, as parents, are capable of noticing it. But still, I find myself blown away every time I’m confronted with him pulling out a single fact or incident he was exposed to once, in passing, weeks or months beforehand. The brain is a fascinating thing. I’m coming to accept that my child’s brain now contains a vast collection of impressions, connections, facts and memories that form a basis for all his subsequent interactions with the world. Still, I can’t help but marvel at what it is capable of doing, and how little of it I understand.

Making a dream come true

I think if River had the chance to make a wish, like through something like the Make a Wish Foundation, it’s quite possible that wish would be to ride a school bus. He doesn’t know that places like Disney World or Sesame Street exist. But he does know that school buses exist, and he has never been on one. When he started preschool, he was under the impression that he’d get to go to school on a bus. Sorry, no luck.

So today I had the joy of making arrangements to make his wish come true. His preschool is planning an outing to the pumpkin patch next week. They are going on a day he doesn’t attend, but they offered to add him to field trip days on his day off if we’re interested.

When I initially inquired, they said they didn’t have room on the bus, but we were welcome to attend if I could drive. I said in that case, we’d skip it. I take him to a farm almost weekly. Driving to a farm with me wouldn’t be very special to him – not special enough for me to miss a morning at work. It’s the bus that would be the most exciting part of the excursion.

I asked if perhaps I could take some staff members in my car and they could find room for River on the bus. Suddenly, the director remembered that one child would be gone that day and River could have her spot. So the plans are on. I’ll drive there and meet them (I’m curious to attend in order to meet some of his classmates) and he’ll board, ride and disembark a bus with his classmates and teachers.

Tonight I get to break the news to him that he will be going on a bus next week. And next Thursday, he’ll actually have his dream experience of riding a bus (a minibus, but I don’t think it will matter) with a bunch of kids. I sure hope it’s a bright yellow school bus.

If only it were always this easy to fulfill the dreams of loved ones. Easy or not, it feels great when it can be done.

Beautiful words

“Can I please go do a caca (pee/poo)?”

The end stage of potty-training, when not only are there no daytime accidents, but we don’t have to ask him if he has to go, is great.

Someday perhaps, he’ll wake up in the morning dry after 12 hours. But until then, we’ll enjoy the calm days.

Excursion on a pirate ship