Trip preparation stress

On Monday we leave town for a month. This is the first time Willow is going on a plane and the first time we’ve taken such a long trip. I’m just now realizing how much work it is to pack for myself and two kids, especially when we are so limited by the airlines in what we can bring. Luckily, we have a friend at our destination willing to lend us baby gear, and we’ll be borrowing a bunch of stuff from my parents. I also ordered some essentials – oatmeal, raisins, diapers, wipes, etc. to be delivered to my parent’s house.


I have a horrible tendency of experiencing something similar to third trimester nesting whenever I leave for a trip. I don’t want to leave a single dirty garment, even if it means getting up at 6 a.m. on the day of departure to throw the last dirty items in the washer. All those papers that have been sitting there forever – I really must sort through them all. The junk on the countertops should be cleared off. Those clothes that don’t fit any more – freecycle them. All garbage must be removed, even from the garage.
It’s ridiculous, because if I haven’t had time to get to these items in the preceding months, I certainly don’t have the time while trying to pack. But the day or two before leaving is usually a mad rush to try to get as many of these little tasks done as possible. The fact that we are renting out our house during our absence means there is even more pressure to leave things in good condition.

Mark has been working very long hours, trying to get his work done before we leave. But it looks like it won’t happen and that he’ll need to work quite a bit during the first week of the trip. So among the many other preparatory tasks, I’ve been looking for a local sitter in Wisconsin. It’s not going to be much of a vacation for me if I have to manage a toddler and an infant at a waterpark on my own. Thanks to care.com I think I’ve found someone.

So while my days are now a continual to-do list, I know I’ll eventually finish. We’ll be forced out of the door, ready or not, to get our flight and then the fun will begin. We’ll be seeing tons of relatives, visiting some new places, and both River and Willows will have many new experiences. River is already very excited about the waterpark and his enthusiasm is contagious.

It’s going to be a lot of work taking care of two kids on the road. I’m seeing that already, just in the act of packing. But I hope it will be fun too. The next post will probably be from the road.

Day at the Farm

Mark needed time to work, so I needed an activity that would keep us out of the house for a good chunk of the day. A party thrown by a farmer that included a lot of good food was an incentive for me to wrangle both of the kids and drive them over an hour away from home.

We spent all afternoon at this farm, and River had a blast bringing our scraps of food directly to the pigs, watching chickens run around freely, and seeing happy families of cows grazing on abundant pasture.

The farmer offered a tour, which I thought involved walking up a hill to see the cows at pasture, then walking back down. Note to self – find out how long the walk is before you take a baby and a toddler on it. I think it could have been a good two miles and it was all dirt trails, the same paths the cows walk on. Many parts were muddy and most of the walk was on uneven ground. Thank goodness I didn’t try to bring the stroller, because we would have never made it.

I carried Willow in the Ergo and she fell asleep for much of the hike. River was a pretty good sport, but he doesn’t like uneven surfaces, so he wanted to hold my hand. When a long time had passed, we were the last people by far, and he was starting to wear down and complain, a woman offered to carry him for me. When I accepted, she asked her husband to do it.

Carrying 36 pounds without a carrier, along a rutted dirt trail, is not easy. But this guy did it and was able to carry him far enough that River found the energy to complete the remaining part without complaint.

It was nice to spend an afternoon in the fresh air, to be served a good meal, and to be able to take a hike. It was good for River to have such close contact with the animals. He doesn’t seem at all troubled by the fact that we eat the animals they raise, asking me if we could kill a cow. But there was a constant sour smell in the air, which I realized was the pigs. After watching them roll in the mud, eat whatever garbage was thrown to them, and squeal, I understood why so many religions (Muslims, Jews, Seventh Day Adventists and some Orthodox churches) ban or discourage eating pork. If only it didn’t taste so good…. Despite my reservations, I bought some pork chops to take home.

After such a long hike, so much fresh air, time spent bouncing on the trampoline, and no nap, River should sleep well tonight.

So far, Willow is sleeping well too. During our first night of transition, she woke up twice and cried for just over five minutes each time. Not bad for what is supposed to be the worst night. Tonight she went to sleep with what sounded like a few complaints, but no real crying. Yay! When kids sleep well, adults sleep well and we are all a happier family. I have hope for a less stressful vacation.

Thankfulness

Things are a little stressful right now. We are about to leave for a month. So Mark is working until 10 p.m. every night, trying to get to the point where he can leave his work for several weeks. That leaves me with a lot of extra childcare and household work, in addition to trying to get ready, to get some exercise, and to prepare for my conference.

And tonight we are going to make the big change, moving Willow from the swing to a firm surface. I think it’s going to be miserable and I’m dreading it. I’d put it off longer, but we are leaving in just over a week and she needs to learn how to fall asleep on a still surface before then, or our trip is going to be a nightmare. Also, we have reached the point where we hate the swing. Every time we go to retrieve her, her head is bent over against the bar. That can’t be good, and I’ll try to remember that as she’s screaming.

I’d like to do it when she goes to bed at 7, but Mark won’t be here and it’s too much for me to handle the 5-15 minute comfortings and putting River to bed. So we’ll wait until her 10:30 p.m. feeding and put her in the bassinet after that.

I’m stressed by thoughts of packing/organizing/preparing, my weight, my return to work in six weeks, a busy summer, and random injustices (like this one). But despite these petty stresses, I’m overwhelmed with a feeling of thankfulness and gratitude. I look at my children and they are healthy, happy, vibrant and confident. The combination of who they were born to be, and the way we have raised them seems to be working out so far, and I find that incredibly fulfilling.

It feels better now that I’ve reached the point of being able to confidently manage them both. I’m enjoying being able to do so many things with them and to experience the small moments of their days. I tend to massively overschedule myself, just because I’m interested in way too many things and I do the same thing when I’m with the kids.

No, I can’t just take them with me on an errand to an outlet mall. I have to find a fun attraction (train museum, that takes several hours) and a good place to eat to make it worth the drive. On the agenda for this weekend is a visit to the gym (the last before my membership expires), a birthday party, a playdate, a pancake breakfast at the airport and a party at a farm. Sometimes I wonder if I’m grooming River to expect this much activity and entertainment. Will be soon be bored if he’s not doing four or five things per weekend? But then I think of all the exposure he’s getting to different places, ideas and people.

I am a learner and an explorer (as well as an overscheduler) and I’m largely choosing things to do that I think are interesting, or will be interesting to him. Sometimes I learn something or have fun, and sometimes I have the enjoyment of watching him have those experiences.

Yes, I dream of time to read books, to exercise, to think deeper thoughts, to accomplish more things. But overall, I think I have a good life. I’m so grateful for my family, my education, my flexible maternity leave and the resources I have access to. I feel very lucky.

No stealing imaginary friends

We attended a party this weekend where there were three other three-year-old boys. One is an aggressive child who frequently tackles other children. One has been quite sweet when I’ve seen him in the past, but seemed susceptible to influence from the aggressive one. And one, who I hadn’t met before, was described by his parents as gentle.


Gentle boy has imaginary friends, including an imaginary sheep. While the three of them were playing outside, gentle boy began to cry, saying that the other boys had stolen his imaginary friend. No one saw it happen, so not much was done besides his parents comforting him.

Later, when we were all inside, I heard the usually sweet boy run past gentle boy and tell him he was stealing his imaginary friend. The gentle boy began to cry.

Sweet boy’s father pulled him aside. “I want you to go return the imaginary sheep and say you are sorry.”

So this boy walks back to the crying child, carrying an imaginary sheep in his outstretched arms.

“Here you are,” he said, as he placed it beside gentle boy. “Sorry.”

That was the funniest interaction I’ve seen among toddlers. Mark thought that gentle boy should have had more confidence in his imaginary friends that they would stick by him. Some of the parents wondered how they could know if their kids were stealing imaginary friends. The parents were put on the spot – how do you enforce typical rules and values as applied to imaginary creatures?

Have you come across any interactions among kids lately that have made you laugh?

Things I'm grateful for this mother's day

• Being able to sleep until I woke up naturally (sometime around 9:30). I’d forgotten what that felt like. Then enjoying a few moments reading in bed before getting up. Wow.
• A gorgeous, sunny day with blue skies and arcs of green boughs.

• A humungous buffet meal at my favorite restaurant

• Being able to walk over six miles. Some of it strolling through gardens with the family. Much of it walking through town and along a canal with my baby.

• Feeling more confident about being able to manage both kids on my own for a whole day.

• Not being back at work yet. I spoke with a couple of colleagues who said they’ve been under pressure to put in long hours lately. I’m glad not to have that stress right now, to have a couple of months of beautiful weather in which to enjoy lots of quality time with my kids.

• My computer had a virus, so I was kept away from the internet for the weekend, which meant I couldn’t use my online calorie tracker. Oh well. Those desserts were good.

• An event-packed several days, including a visit to an outlet store and the purchase at a steep discount of several pieces of cookware I’ve been longing for, a visit to a train museum that River loved, a family photography session in the park (the only way I can get Mark to agree to an annual portrait is to ask for it for mother’s day), watching an Indian dance and painting crafts with River at a community event, and a party at a friend’s house.

• Starting to feel the possibility of a little bit of time that makes me think perhaps I can tackle at least a few of my long-overdue nesting projects before I get back to work.

• Safety and health.

• A trip to look forward to, to plan for and to hopefully generate some family memories, perhaps even for River.

• Having two sweet, healthy children and a loving, helpful spouse.

At lunch, Mark toasted me and thanked me for what I do as a mom. My eyes filled with tears as I thanked him for my wonderful family. He was never very enthusiastic about having kids and still feels he could have done without them. Yet he went along with it because it was important to me and he tries to contribute an equal share in raising them.

I was never one to aspire to marriage or parenthood. I thought it would be part of my life eventually, but it wasn’t much of a focus of my dreams until I reached my late twenties. Despite this late start, I’m so very thankful to be able to call myself a wife and mother. Yes, it comes with stresses, compromises, lack of sleep and severe limitations on freedom. Yet it has taught me to love and to open my heart to expanses I never imagined before. It has reawakened my wonder in the world and the processes within it. It has allowed me to step back from focusing on my own goals, and to derive joy from providing opportunities for my children to learn. It has allowed me to feel pride in the simple accomplishment of giving my child a safe, loving, and enriching start to life.

Happy mother’s day to all those engaged in the most important work of all.

A weekend date with the kids

This weekend I took River to a local art museum that offers monthly programs directed at preschoolers. The program is included with the cost of admission. So I bought an annual membership for $70 and now have access to what is, in effect, a high-quality monthly art class for him.


I still don’t have an easy time venturing out alone with both of the kids. Since Willow was edgy, I wasn’t able to give him the one-on-one assistance other kids were receiving. But he still got to make a fun art project, put on a smock and mess around with paint, and take a kid-focused tour of some pieces of art. Afterwards, we had a mother-son lunch together in the café.


I’m glad to have found another regular activity that we can do together. It will be our monthly date.

Introduction to Montessori

This weekend we attended the birthday party of the son of a physicist. Needless to say, there were some smart people there, including twin three-year old boys who already speak German, Hungarian and English. Wow.

The family hosting the party is very much into the Montessori style of learning. The mom had spoken to me about it during some walks we’d taken, and while I’d listened, I didn’t take too much active note. The local Montessori is so crazy expensive (ie. expensive private college expensive) that I didn’t look at anything beyond the price tag. But when she mentioned how her family organized their house so their son could take responsibility for many things himself (using a chair he can climb up and down, placing a snack drawer within his reach, etc.) I thought that sounded intriguing.

Today, when I saw River play with their large collection of Montessori toys, I got an inkling of how cool this system might be. He was taken by their collection of wooden puzzles– a tree, a leaf, a horse, a flower. They were fairly difficult. At times, he asked me to figure out where a piece went and I couldn’t figure it out. But they seemed designed in a way that offered small clues of where to put things that eventually connected together. On the back of the flower pieces, my friend had written the parts of the flower.

So I went home and purchased the flower puzzle, the horse puzzle, and a few other items from this store, where she said the prices are lower. She also recommended this site for a larger selection, but higher prices.

Upon looking at all the Montessori toys, I’m impressed, but also overwhelmed. I know nothing about the method other than it’s supposed to promote child-led learning. Since River definitely won’t be going to Montessori school, it is worth digging further into the philosophy, investing more in some more of the toys/materials (if so, which ones?)? Or should I just have faith that he’ll eventually learn the same things through experience and/or traditional methods?

Starting sports young - very young

This is the kind of article that makes me think – give me a break. Sending a kid to a place like Little Gym because you want something fun to do is one thing. Sending them because you are already trying to train them for a career is ridiculous.

With the exception of a few months of early swim lessons, we haven’t put River in a single paid class or lesson. He is the exception among many of his peers. But I didn’t want to spend the money when he’s perfectly capable of learning and exploring as a baby or a toddler for free. I wanted to have the funds available instead to give him enrichment when he’s a bit older, and the activity is more likely to do him some good.

Perhaps we’ve failed in this realm. River is bright, personable and analytical. But physically, one could legitimately call him a wimp. As his mother, I see it as a positive. He doesn’t take risks, so he never hurts himself. I can trust him fully - whether near a busy road, near steps, or with garden shears – and we’ve never had an injury or an accident to speak of. Has he tried to get out of his crib? No way. He knows better than to let himself fall several feet.

But when we see him around kids his age or younger, we see he’s physically behind. They can scamper up nets while he takes only a few cautious steps. At the Chinese preschool, one child sat on a trike and deftly took a passenger for a ride, while River preferred the push car that toddlers learning to walk choose. A couple of friends have suggested that perhaps we should enroll him in an activity, such as yoga, that develops his physical skills.

One thing I liked about the Chinese preschool is that they give more challenging tasks to kids who are advanced in a certain area (like scissor use for River). And they push them when they are behind their peers. They gave the example of pushing one child to ride a trike and that is definitely where River could use intervention. In fact, they did push him during the one morning he was there and he made more progress on a bike than he’s ever made before.

So, he’s unlikely to make it to the World Cup, as Mark may have dreamed of. He may even be unlikely to make the soccer team. But that’s OK with me. I want him to be healthy, to be physically fit, and to have the confidence to engage in a variety of activities. But I feel that at this age, he should be free to develop and explore at his own pace.

Highlights (good and bad) from a March weekend

Willow fell off the bed. I don’t think I can express the oh-my-god-how-could-I let this happen shock/guilt I feel in that sentence. I was sleeping on a twin bed while visiting Mark’s parents and she was on another twin bed just over a foot away. Mark’s mom had asked whether there was a risk of her falling off the bed and I said no. I placed her on the bed, tightly swaddled, horizontally, thinking if anything, she’d roll to the side. I couldn’t imagine that in her swaddle, she could jujitsu herself downward and off the edge.

She went to sleep at 8 and I went to bed at 10. I put in one earplug, hoping to reduce my reaction to little night noises (like, duh, a thunk which I did not hear). I did hear crying at midnight, so I reached over to grab her. And reached again. And once more, without feeling her. Tired and confused, I turned on the light and saw her on the floor. Luckily, I hadn’t stepped on her. Luckily, the floor was carpeted.

I picked her up quickly as my heart raced with desperate fear and guilt. What if something happened to her? How could I forgive myself? How could I tell if anything was wrong? What if she had a concussion?

The rest of the house was asleep, so there was no one to consult. She had a red mark on her forehead which has now turned into a bruise, but she stopped crying immediately upon being offered the breast and she nursed vigorously. So I could only hope all was OK.

Nevertheless, I held her tightly the rest of the night, which meant I received even less sleep than usual. Three months old and she’s already on the move.

**

During each of the two nights we spent at Mark’s parents’ place, I put Willow to bed, waited a half hour, then pumped. During that half hour, I had 30 minutes to myself to drink hot tea and to read. I have this at home too, but somehow the time was calmer and more concentrated there. I felt in the moment, enjoyed it and appreciated it.

A big part of it was the quiet. That silence, stillness, calm, peace, ability to concentrate brought to light how noisy our house is. It was beautiful. I mentioned it to Mark and he reminded me that yes, we live in a duplex and have neighbors that play loud rock music. Then we have other neighbors not too far away, traffic, a tenant or two in our house (which makes us conscious of the noise we make too). As I write this, I hear the annoying music playing on Willow’s swing and the creak as it moves back and forth.

In addition to physical silence, there was greater mental silence. I didn’t use the computer for over 48 hours. Being away from messages, news, sites and activities made me feel calmer and more able to focus on my thoughts. And of course, not being in my own house meant I wasn’t surrounded by reminders of things I could/should be doing.

Those were nice little bits of time and now I crave more – some chunks of quiet, concentrated peace.

**

It used to be a given that if we traveled by car at River’s naptime that he would go to sleep. Not this time. I tried limiting stimuli. I tried distracting him with magazines. We put on Barney music, thinking he’d be lulled to sleep. Finally, I bribed him, telling him that yes, he could have a third cookie if after finishing it he’d close his eyes and rest. No go.

I put in earplugs and told him I was resting. I closed my eyes (though I really wanted to read) and tried to model sleep, thinking he’s soon follow suit. No.

As we neared home and he’d continued to chatter for nearly three hours (why are you driving a car, why is it windy, why do we need gas), my patience was wearing thin.

“Please let me read,” I said to him.

“Please let me chat,” he responded in kind.

**

We’ve passed that exciting yet bittersweet moment of putting away the newborn clothes and bringing out the size 3 months. It’s when I have to recognize that my baby is growing, this time is slipping past me, I can’t keep her tiny in my arms. At the same time, I marvel that this big, strong, little girl has been made and nourished by me.

During the newborn phase we dressed her almost only in zip-up and snap up sacks and one-piece outfits – whatever was easiest for us was good for her. Now that we have a little more time, I can take the few extra moments to dress her in something that may go over the head, or have two or three matching pieces. She looks better in real-person clothes. It’s even more fun to hold her and to play with her.

**

I ran across a piece in FitPregnancy about the likelihood of losing car keys. According to the article, memory loss was still apparent into the third month after giving birth. In the third month myself, and still not feeling intellectually up to par, this felt reassuring.

**

I think I’m coming closer to breaking out of the cocoon of new motherhood. I want to get away for longer periods. I used to leave for up to two hours. Now I often leave for at least two hours. I want to be able to focus on something, to take a hike in the woods, to have a conversation, to read a book, without the timer of the next milking constantly ticking away.

Beyond the fourth trimester

We’ve made it through the fourth trimester and life really does feel distinct.

Willow has passed the extended fetus stage and is developing into more of a person. With smiles and laughs (extended, happy aaahhhhs) and a demonstrated interest in things, such as faces, lights, fans, computer screens, TVs, windows and little animals that hang from play mats or bouncy seats, she makes us feel liked and is beginning to reveal herself to us.

Breastfeeding is no longer painful and I’ve resumed a normal diet. I’m on medication for another two weeks and am crossing my fingers that everything will still be OK once I stop it. Day by day, the supply in the freezer grows. If I keep this up, I should have an adequate backup by the time I go back to work.

I am finally, finally, able to start being reasonable about diet and exercise. I’m walking 7500 steps a day and keeping my calories to 2,770. Yes, I recognize that 2,700 calories is not very low. But it’s currently lower than I would consume if I wasn’t tracking.

It’s increasingly feasible to handle both of the kids. I’ve been able to spend more quality time with River, which makes me feel better about our relationship and I think has reduced the whining. He likes to give me hugs and kisses and I treasure those.

I’m engaged in planning our month-long trip and am enjoying what research says is often the most rewarding part of a vacation – the anticipation.

Things are slowly returning to normal. However, I’m still having severely interrupted sleep. And my confidence level is low, both physically and intellectually. Physically, I’m fat. Not just post-partum heavy, but at the same weight I was around 35-36 weeks pregnant. Wide, flabby, pale and lacking strength, I still dress only in maternity clothes and feel like a dowdy middle-aged lady.

My intellectual confidence is also low. I struggle with Spanish and worry I can’t speak it well enough to keep River engaged. Too often, I come across words I don’t know, so I revert to a simpler way of saying it to River, or I don’t say it at all. I’m removed from current events, having spent the past few months in an insular focus on my family. And while I can handle small, discrete tasks, I’m starting to question my ability to think big, to connect the dots. Is it that I don’t have the time to focus long enough to get deep into a subject, or am I just losing intellectual capacity?

I take faith that I’ll improve physically as I increase exercise, take care with my diet, and eventually get off the medications. I’m hoping that my brain will start to work better with time too, as I gradually am able to get away for longer amounts of time and to focus on larger tasks. This is the price of having children, I tell myself, and looking into their faces during our happy moments, I think it is worth it.

an almost-spring, almost-normal weekend

Willow turned three months old. It felt like things got significantly easier at two months, and a bit more so at three. Hopefully this trend will continue. We remain in the happy afterglow of the news that our baby is healthy. Last night I took a walk with her and I pushed her in the carriage, staring at her face. All the little imperfections, like baby acne, diminished and she appeared to be perfect to me.

The sun came out, we shed our jackets, the birds chirped, flowers opened their petals and revealed their colors. The last sight of snow is gone and we are hopefully, finally, welcoming spring.

We visited an aquarium as part of a family class trip organized by River’s school. The trip was sponsored by a community organization and I think it’s a nice idea – provide transportation, admission and lunch to a fun and educational place, allowing kids access to something they might not be able to visit, and families the opportunity to spend quality time together. An excursion like that could easily cost $100 for a family of four, so it’s not an insignificant expense. Nonetheless, I’m sure our family wasn’t the one these people had in mind when they planned to sponsor a trip. It was a bit uncomfortable to be the recipient of a charitable venture. River is a member of the class, and was as entitled to go on the class trip as anyone else. Yet I found myself turning the diamonds on my engagement ring inward and trying to avoid mentioning that not only had River been to this aquarium several times before, but he has an annual membership. His class is not limited to low-income students. But it tends to attract them because of the financial aid available for those who can’t afford the modest cost, and because the amenities aren’t on the same level as more expensive programs. Also, the fact that it’s a dual-language program, targeted at kids whose first language is Spanish, results in most of the kids being Hispanic. I think it’s fantastic-- for the value, for the language, and for the opportunity to meet kids River probably wouldn’t have the opportunity to meet otherwise. But none of my friends have shown any interest in it.

Mark and I had a date night. We went out for dinner (with Willow), then went to a play. The play was almost three hours long, and I didn’t leave the (new) sitter with any milk for Willow. Luckily, she slept until we got home. If she hadn’t, we may have had trouble convincing this sitter to come back.

Some family time, some couple time - we're getting close to resuming normality.

watching through the window

I’ve been able to have a little more one-on-one time with River in the past week or so. One of the activities we did together was to attend a trial gymnastics class at Little Gym. He has always been very physically cautious, which means he’s never hurt himself, but also means that he seems to be behind other kids his age in his ability to jump, swing, hang, etc. So I thought it might be fun to try out something that would motivate him to develop some of those skills.

The class was fun, better than I expected, and the facilities were great for a child of his age. But the one thing that struck me was the parental involvement. Parents of younger children participated in the class with the child. Parents of children in River’s class (3-4 year olds) weren’t allowed in. However, chairs were lined up along the glass windows and parents sat in a long row gazing out at their babies as they traversed balance beams, jumped over a rope, and ran in circles.

I found it strange that I was led to a chair rather than being offered the choice of watching or taking an hour for myself. But all the other parents were lined up to watch and a friend of mine told me her two-year-old is in a morning preschool program that offers parents the opportunity to watch through a window (and she does). If I’d had the choice, I probably would have gone to a café and relaxed for an hour, confident that River would have been fine without me. Upon sitting, I realized I forgot my book and thought it would be a very long hour until I found an audiobook in my coat pocket.

To my surprise, I ended up enjoying watching the class more than I expected. River waved to me several times and perhaps it made him feel good that I was there to see him. After the first 15 minutes or so, he didn’t look my way again, but I did remember back to my high school tennis playing days and the extra effort I’d put in when I knew someone from my family was there. Also, I have to admit the voyeuristic pleasure I take at the gym when I watch him from the treadmill videocam and see how he manages on his own or when he doesn’t realize I’m watching him play outside and I can see how he explores his environment.

It was nice to see River in a classroom context, a place where he thrives. I loved watching his face change from the “what the fuck is this?” look of confusion upon encountering something new, to the look of concentration as he attempted to figure it out or do what was asked of him, to the look of confidence and achievement that appeared once he had done it. It’s the cycle of learning playing out in his expressions and it’s beautiful to watch.

I could also see how important the other kids were as role models. When he saw a little girl, a fraction of his size, grab onto rings and hang from them, he tried hard to be able to do the same thing, though he had never done it before. In the course of just an hour, I saw him do several things he had never attempted before, and he smiled almost the whole time.

Mark asked the other day why people pay huge amounts of money for preschool or these types of classes. He doesn’t think it’s worth it, and I’ve also been skeptical at the benefits to the child of classes offered at very early ages (though I see the benefit for the parents). I left that class feeling I had a possible answer. It’s for the opportunity to experience intense learning in a structured and fun environment, to be able to learn from the strengths of other kids, and to develop confidence in one’s body, mind and social skills.

I don’t know if I’d line up with the parents against the window every week. I might be like the mom next to me, who was doing work, or I might sneak off and get a cup of tea. But I did really enjoy getting a glimpse into how River can join into a class of strangers, have fun, and learn. Seeing him challenged and watching how he encountered those new situations gave me a sense of who he will be as an independent person.

Do you want to be able to watch your kids in school/classes/activities, or do you prefer to take time for yourself? How much parental involvement do you think is needed/worthwhile?

Pi day

This was our first year celebrating pi day, but I imagine it will become an annual occurrence. We started small, the highlights being a train ride with Einstein and the purchase of a small cherry pie.

River knows that Einstein was a famous man and perhaps knows he had something to do with math and physics. I told him briefly about the number pi, though I doubt it meant anything to him. But he definitely loved the cherry pie.

I have a friend who celebrates by eating various types of pie for every meal on pie day. Perhaps if I ever become very ambitious, or River and/or Willow become enthusiastic about this holiday, I’ll go for it. In the meantime, it’s a low-stress opportunity to mix some history and math with sugar and fun.

Do you celebrate pi day?

Heaven

Willow is swaddled and asleep in the swing and I’m in bed at 7:15 p.m. I hold a warm cup of white vanilla apricot tea and an almost 700-page Polish novel that appears to be promising. It’s raining outside, so I can listen to the patter of the drops on the roof.

River jumps onto the bed to give me a goodnight hug, then disappears into his room with Mark. Burrowing under two quilts, I start reading the novel, and all the excitement, thrill and appreciation of a long, quality novel stretch out before me. I’m brought back to the joy I felt reading the great Russian novels – War and Peace, Anna Karenina, Chekov’s stories, collections of Russian literature.

After reading River his stories, Mark comes in to cuddle while I read. By 8 p.m. I’m asleep. It didn’t last quite as long as I expected (Willow woke up to eat at 11:30 instead of 1), but still, it was blissful, a dream like the one Torpid Trifling described so well.

First visit to the dentist

River made his first visit to the dentist today. Mark didn’t want him to go, thinking it doesn’t make sense to invest money in teeth that are just going to fall out in a few years. But should there be any decay, I didn’t think we could leave them to decay for that long, nor would it teach River good hygienic practices.

So we went, paid $125 out of pocket and received the reassurance that despite putting him to bed with a bottle for a long time, not starting brushing until the later side, and not being the most precise brushers, he is doing fine. The dentist said he could tell River’s diet is healthy, which perhaps is the most important factor. River brushes himself, usually once a day, and oftentimes for what seems like not enough time. But he uses my electric toothbrush (he has his own head) and I think those toothbrushes are super at preventing cavities. I went through years with a new cavity every time I visited the dentist. Then I got an electric toothbrush and haven’t had a cavity since then.

The best part of the visit was the office. I have never seen a doctor’s office as cool as this one. It had video games, an interactive activity on a flat screen TV, a juke box, a dinosaur emerging from a wall, Native American headdresses, stained glass showing a giraffe, a huge selection of magazines for children and for adults, and PC and Mac computers available for parents to surf the internet. In his office, the dentist had the most impressive collection of toys I’ve ever seen – a cow that poops jelly beans, a large face that dispenses Kleenexs through the nose, a nose with a giant rubbery booger hanging out. I guess there has to be something to woo people since the office doesn’t take any insurance.

River is getting a very good impression of medical offices. When I told him the other day I was going to take him to the doctor due to a rash on his face, he said, “Yay! They have stickers and lollipops there!” Now the dentist will be associated with video games and toys.

Wanting to hear the three magic words

River doesn’t tell us he loves us. He’s said it to me perhaps two or three times in his life. I don’t know if he’s ever said it to Mark. One might start to think he’s autistic or something, except that he is sensitive, loving and happy. He’s proud of his family and will say he has the best family in the world. He enjoys the book Mi Mama, where the child narrator describes what a super mother s/he has. He gives hugs and kisses and does kind, considerate acts

I’d mentioned this to Mark lately, how other little kids seem to tell their parents they love them, but we don’t hear it from River. I even know a parent of a three year old whose child has told her he hates her. We don’t get words of love or hate. Then on our night away, our waitress told us she has an 18-month-old and she’s so cute because she’s always telling the mom she loves her and giving her hugs.

Mark and I both tell River we love him multiple times a day. When I tell him that, he either says nothing or says, “Yes.”

It is that girls say these things more so than boys? Or is River unusual as a three-year-old who doesn’t express love in words, but does in actions.

Infant play mat

A friend of ours passed along her infant play mat, which seems to intrigue Willow. But someone else in the house likes it even more, an usually large baby.

our mini escape

We made it out of town with just one kiddo. It was definitely more relaxing to not have a toddler around. It would have been even more relaxing to not have a baby either, however, her presence didn’t change things too much, besides the fact that our attention was focused on her during dinner, rather than on each other.

While our excursion was very cheap, getting a babysitter for almost 24 hours was not. I tried not to dwell on how much that cost and instead enjoy the time away. We need an occasional investment in our relationship. In the future though, it may make sense to plan a getaway when the grandparents are visiting, or we are visiting them.

After a mediocre dinner, which was included in our hotel stay Willow went to sleep in her carseat, which we placed in the shower. She slept very well in there, waking up at 1 and at 6, which allowed me some nice blocks of sleep. Mark and I were able to have some couple time, which hasn’t happened in a long time, we were able to read a bit and spend a greater than usual amount of time in each other’s presence.

Today we played pinball while Willow slept among the dings and bangs and pops of the many machines. I recalled my days at Chuck E Cheese, when tickets would spew out of the skee ball machine, allowing me to buy all types of plastic treasures, as I challenged Mark to a game and won. For lunch, we indulged in a soul food buffet, which was fun as a cultural and a culinary adventure. I cheated big time on my no-sugar diet, trying the chocolate cake with creamy chocolate frosting, taking home a piece of red velvet cheesecake, and indulging in apple cider donuts from my favorite orchard.

We returned home to River napping, allowing us a bit more free time. I used my hour to walk nearly three miles in the rain, soaking my jeans from the knee down, but feeling invigorated.

In the evening, we joined friends for a potluck, where we enjoyed good food and company, without the hassle of cooking or cleaning up. River held hands with his buddy and they danced together. It’s fun to see real cooperative play.

Mark thinks we could have had an equally fun time at home, and saved a lot of money. He wasn’t impressed with the dingy town we visited and joked that I like to have adventures in run-down places. But the hotel itself was fine and to me, it was a real vacation. Upon waking up in the hotel, I colored my hair, something I haven’t had time to do in months. I spent the 25 minutes the process took reading a book, without a single interruption from a toddler demanding oatmeal, asking when the oatmeal will be ready, complaining that the oatmeal is too hot. To me, that’s a vacation.

maybe we’re doing better after all

At my weekly visit to the breastfeeding support group, I bared my nipples for the lactation consultant’s inspection (this now seems like the most natural thing in the world to do) and was surprised to hear her say she doesn’t think the thrush is back.

“Thrush usually has a shiny look,” she said. So while mine are pink, and occasionally red, they are not shiny. I no longer remember what normal nipples look like and I certainly don’t know what non-thrush infected breastfeeding nipples look like.

She told me I needed to continue staying away from sugar (“no excuses!”), but that I didn’t have to go back on drugs for thrush.

I feel some relief that perhaps the thrush has abated after all. It’s hard to tell though since the other issues are still active and no one knows what came first, or what is causing what. But I’m definitely bummed at the prospect of several more weeks on a restricted diet. I’m also starting to feel pretty bad about myself, as I’ve GAINED five pounds since putting these restrictions in place. So I not only feel deprived, but fat.

I’m also not feeling good about the way I am parenting River these days. It seems I spend too much of my time with him telling him no, hurrying him up, trying to get him to stop whining, or trying to deal with his needs quickly so I can move on to other things I need to address. There are times, especially when he’s whining, that I’m annoyed, I don’t want to listen any more, and I just want to get away. There have been occasions on which my chidings have made him cry, and there haven’t been enough fun, silly moments to make up for them.

I keep telling myself that I’ll do something special with him. Perhaps I’ll read him bedtime stories, perhaps I’ll take him somewhere. Sometimes I do. But most of the time, I’m tired or something else needs to be done, and fun time with him is pushed to the side.

This weekend we’ll be leaving him behind as we go out of town for the weekend. I plan to take him to get his hair cut before we leave and perhaps we can grab something to eat together. I’ll be taking him to a free trial gymnastics class soon. Occasions like this, where just the two of us can do something together, without Willow, are rare. I need to try to make them happen more often. Or I need to learn how to tune out the other things that need to be done and be able to sit and listen to him fully.

The first signs of bilingual rejection

I knew this would come someday, so I tried to prepare for it. We aren’t at outright rejection yet, but River has started to show a bit of resistance to the Spanish. I worry this might just be the beginning and may be a sign that he sees English as dominant, more important, more often used among his peers.

Today he asked me for blueberries, but refused to say the word in Spanish. “Quiero blueberries, muchos blueberries.”

I figured it doesn’t make sense to act like I don’t understand, since he hears me speak English with other people. So I asked him to say it in Spanish.

“Blueberries!” he repeated.

Mark also told him he had to say it in Spanish, but he wouldn’t.

An hour or so later, when it was clear to him that saying it in English didn’t get him blueberries, he asked for it in Spanish.

I don’t want language to become a subject for fights. But I do think it’s important for my kids to speak Spanish and I want them to stick with it. Eventually, I’d love to take him to a Spanish-speaking place for several weeks, where he can hear it as the dominant language and see children who use it as their main means of communication. But it will be a while before that is a possibility.

In the meantime, I’m thinking that I’ll continue to speak to him and read to him only in Spanish and will only fulfill his requests if he makes them in Spanish. If he eventually asks why I speak Spanish to him and English to dad and so many other people, I’ll tell him that I think it’s a beautiful language and it’s important for him and Willow to know so that they can travel many places and communicate with different people. He does have a strong interest in travel, so I’m hoping that will make sense to him.

But I’m not sure. I haven’t done this before and I don’t want to screw up, as it could affect his communication abilities and/or our relationship. Does anyone have any tips on how to avoid or deal with a bilingual language strike? Any thoughts on whether introducing Chinese this fall will make it better (my hope is that he’ll see that there are different environments for different languages and they are all useful) or worse?