We have these rigid plastic vent covers intended to direct the air flow more into the room and less at the windows. Janet has turned them into skates. She turns them upside down, and slides around the carpet on them. Busby has also taken up the practice. Now he's telling Janet to skate on the ice. I just told them to stay on the carpet.
This reminds me of Busby's recent first skating experience. (I wasn't there because (a) Janet had to nap and (b) pregnant + ice + skates = disaster.) We had Busby all excited about going ice skating, and Big Kahuna took him to the skating party. Skates were rented and placed on Busby's feet to which he immediately declared that they were "heaby" and didn't want them on anymore. Kahuna got him partly around the rink, then all was lost.
When they got home, Busby declared that he had skated, that he loved it, and wanted to do it again. Um, sure. Maybe in another year or so.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
What parenting really is...
Heard escaping from my lips last evening: Sometimes I understand you and don't understand you at the same time, Janet. Is that what parenting really is?
Monday, February 25, 2008
The potty battle
And this time it is what you think.
Busby has not voluntarily gone to the bathroom since...I don't know when. We have to prod, cajole, threaten and cry to get him in there.
Janet demands to sit on the potty every time I change her diaper. And today, actually peed in the stupid thing. Which is a tiny miracle because she had to wait in line behind her non-peeing-in-the-potty brother. When she did pee, she said "Uh, Oh!" like she had made some huge mistake. I, of course, praised her and then tried to teach her about toilet paper. She looked at me like I was nuts. I tried to explain that it was like a baby wipe, but drier. She continued to look at me like I was nuts. Then she demanded to wash her hands.
This is her real motivation. She loves to wash her hands. Then brush her teeth. Then wash her hands again.
Busby has not voluntarily gone to the bathroom since...I don't know when. We have to prod, cajole, threaten and cry to get him in there.
Janet demands to sit on the potty every time I change her diaper. And today, actually peed in the stupid thing. Which is a tiny miracle because she had to wait in line behind her non-peeing-in-the-potty brother. When she did pee, she said "Uh, Oh!" like she had made some huge mistake. I, of course, praised her and then tried to teach her about toilet paper. She looked at me like I was nuts. I tried to explain that it was like a baby wipe, but drier. She continued to look at me like I was nuts. Then she demanded to wash her hands.
This is her real motivation. She loves to wash her hands. Then brush her teeth. Then wash her hands again.
The potty battle
It's not what you think. This isn't a potty-training battle, it's a "If you are going to cry until to make yourself sick then by golly you're going to learn to throw up on the potty" battle.
I was trying to get Janet dressed this morning. She didn't want to get dressed, and started kicking her legs, which resulted in a jab to my 6.5 month pregnant belly. I immediately took hold of both of her legs, held them firmly to the table, looked her in the eyes, and said "Do Not Kick Mommy." Then she started to cry. The kind of cry she has done before which ends in her throwing up. I said No way are you puking on me again. If you're gonna puke, you're gonna do it in the potty. And I hauled her into the bathroom and stood her in front of the toilet. Which fairly well horrified her into stopping crying. I pretty sure she finds the idea of throwing up in the potty fairly revolting. I'm going to keep using this technique until she actually starts puking in the potty, or stops making herself sick by crying.
I was trying to get Janet dressed this morning. She didn't want to get dressed, and started kicking her legs, which resulted in a jab to my 6.5 month pregnant belly. I immediately took hold of both of her legs, held them firmly to the table, looked her in the eyes, and said "Do Not Kick Mommy." Then she started to cry. The kind of cry she has done before which ends in her throwing up. I said No way are you puking on me again. If you're gonna puke, you're gonna do it in the potty. And I hauled her into the bathroom and stood her in front of the toilet. Which fairly well horrified her into stopping crying. I pretty sure she finds the idea of throwing up in the potty fairly revolting. I'm going to keep using this technique until she actually starts puking in the potty, or stops making herself sick by crying.
Never go up against a 3-year-old when peanut butter is on the line...
"You only think I guessed wrong! That's what's so funny! I switched glasses when your back was turned! Ha ha! You fool! You fell victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known is this: never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Ha ha ha..."
Only it's a battle of wills instead of a battle of wits.
Today I did it. For the first time ever, I gave my children peanut butter and jelly for lunch. I just could not fix Mac & Cheese again. They also had baked Cheetos and their choice of milk or water. They both chose water.
Young Janet will eat anything. She's a lot like Mikey that way. Janet ate an entire 1/3 of her sandwich (and all of her Cheetos), which, given the fact that she had a morning snack, is good enough for me.
Busby, on the other hand, will emphatically not eat something if it is not his "faybritt." Peanut butter is not his faybritt. Ok, I'm down with that. You don't have to eat it all, but you do have to eat one bite. Just one, small smackerel of a pb&j on white bread. Of course, he ate all of the Cheetos that have not been poisoned with a tiny smear of peanut butter. He finished he water, smacking his lips together after every single sip. But he will not eat the pb&j. I told him that if he didn't take a bite before his nap, it will be waiting there for him when he gets up.
A few minutes ago, Janet came up to me and said "Nap." I said, "Are you ready for a nap." She replied, "Uh huh." So she's laying there in her new big-girl bed, singing herself to sleep. Busby is sitting here asking for his blankie. I told him he has to eat a bite of sandwich first. He's not happy with me.
We'll see how the rest of the plot unfolds...
*****
15 minute later update: Janet is passed out asleep in exactly the same position I left her in. She wasn't kidding when she said, "Nap!"
Busby is now laying down. Ya, I'm a wuss. But that sandwich will still be there when he gets up. I already told him there will be no afternoon snack until he eats that one tiny bite that I even went so far as to cut out for him, and put on a fork after he said he didn't want to use his fingers.
*****
3 hour later update: I just couldn't make him eat it. It was dry and crusty, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
Only it's a battle of wills instead of a battle of wits.
Today I did it. For the first time ever, I gave my children peanut butter and jelly for lunch. I just could not fix Mac & Cheese again. They also had baked Cheetos and their choice of milk or water. They both chose water.
Young Janet will eat anything. She's a lot like Mikey that way. Janet ate an entire 1/3 of her sandwich (and all of her Cheetos), which, given the fact that she had a morning snack, is good enough for me.
Busby, on the other hand, will emphatically not eat something if it is not his "faybritt." Peanut butter is not his faybritt. Ok, I'm down with that. You don't have to eat it all, but you do have to eat one bite. Just one, small smackerel of a pb&j on white bread. Of course, he ate all of the Cheetos that have not been poisoned with a tiny smear of peanut butter. He finished he water, smacking his lips together after every single sip. But he will not eat the pb&j. I told him that if he didn't take a bite before his nap, it will be waiting there for him when he gets up.
A few minutes ago, Janet came up to me and said "Nap." I said, "Are you ready for a nap." She replied, "Uh huh." So she's laying there in her new big-girl bed, singing herself to sleep. Busby is sitting here asking for his blankie. I told him he has to eat a bite of sandwich first. He's not happy with me.
We'll see how the rest of the plot unfolds...
*****
15 minute later update: Janet is passed out asleep in exactly the same position I left her in. She wasn't kidding when she said, "Nap!"
Busby is now laying down. Ya, I'm a wuss. But that sandwich will still be there when he gets up. I already told him there will be no afternoon snack until he eats that one tiny bite that I even went so far as to cut out for him, and put on a fork after he said he didn't want to use his fingers.
*****
3 hour later update: I just couldn't make him eat it. It was dry and crusty, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Baby Names
Tonight at dinner Janet lifted up her shirt, pointed to her tummy and declared "STOP THAT!" I can only assume she did that because she's heard and seen me push on my ever growing belly and say "Stop that."
So we had to ask her who was in her tummy. And she said "Sarah........baby!" That's not entirely unexpected, especially since she's taken to calling her baby sister Sarah. That lead us to ask both Janet and Busby what we should name the baby. Busby has settled on Farmer Pickles. Which just makes him laugh and laugh. He thinks it would be hilarious (literally, he says it's hilarious) to give his baby sister a boy's name. We've also come up with Junior Asparagus, Laura the Carrot, and Mr. Lundt.
So we had to ask her who was in her tummy. And she said "Sarah........baby!" That's not entirely unexpected, especially since she's taken to calling her baby sister Sarah. That lead us to ask both Janet and Busby what we should name the baby. Busby has settled on Farmer Pickles. Which just makes him laugh and laugh. He thinks it would be hilarious (literally, he says it's hilarious) to give his baby sister a boy's name. We've also come up with Junior Asparagus, Laura the Carrot, and Mr. Lundt.
It's like playing the lottery
His response to not matching a single number in last night's Powerball drawing: That's stupid. It's like playing the lottery or something.
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