This Blog got me thinking - what is it that I do as a mom that I absolutely refuse to feel guilty about...even if I think maybe I should.
1. Letting Dylan watch TV. I never (ever) thought I'd happily plop my two-year-old son in front of "Dino Squad," but I do. His favorite shows are Pingu, Dino Squad, Dinosaur Train, Word World, Ponyo, Thomas the Train (certain episodes), Clifford's Big Adventure and Stuart Little. These shows give me a rest, and give his imagination fodder for great conversation for us later. We use them to make up songs, games, and other activities. I have even begged him to watch TV on occasion.
2. Not brushing his teeth regularly. Mornings are sporadic at best, and night brushings do not happen if he's come home asleep - period.
3. Feeding Dylan sweets. He doesn't get it much, but if there are cookies in the house, he's just as likely to get them for breakfast as for dessert. I don't care (and usually, they are some 'hippie' power-packed cookie 'cause that's what I like to eat); he gets enough good stuff the rest of the day.
4. Not drinking milk. Every time I go to the pediatrician, she is dismayed at the amount of milk my son drinks. He doesn't like milk at my house, but apparently drinks it at daycare. Again, he eats plenty good and I refuse to worry about it.
5. Going outside without a coat. Dylan hates to wear a coat. He can wriggle out of one faster than I can get one on. Long ago, I let that battle go. If it's important because we'll be outside playing for an extended time, then I tell him he has to wear it or we can't go to the park--then, he lets me dress him warmly and doesn't protest. Otherwise, trips to and from the car are almost always done sans jacket. Same goes for socks and shoes.
6. Letting him stay in his crib or sleep with me. Dylan is the only two-year-old I know who still sleeps in a crib. He likes his crib, but he sleeps on a mat on the floor at daycare. I tried lowering the side to give him a taste, and he insisted I raise it back up. He never tries to climb out of it. We'll change eventually, but not until he indicates he wants a change. Sleeping with me, well hell maybe I am spoiling him, but when he wakes up in the middle of the night pleading, "Mommy? Sleep Mommy bed!?" I simply can't and do not want to resist. If I had it my way, he'd always sleep with me.
7. Not working on potty training. He no longer has any interest in the potty. He'll do it eventually and in the meantime so the heck what?!
8. Letting Dylan see me naked. It happens. He used to think my hair was poop. The first time he saw me naked and noticed, he pointed at me and said, "Oh, mommy poop!" I said, "No, honey, that's hair. Someday you will have hair there, too." and we moved on. Since weaning, he's seen me shirtless quite a few times. He used to comment, but doesn't any more. He used to say, "Mommy nai-nai. All gone." He'll get too old to not be grossed out by my body, but I see no point in attaching shame or embarrassment to nakedness. On that note, he loves to run naked through the house before bath. I run after him, shamelessly pinching his little cheeks shouting, "NAKED BABY! I'm gonna get that butt!" while he squeals with laughter. I actually filmed it one night. Yes, I did. Dylan loves to watch it, and even tries to pinch his own cheeks on the video when I show him. Yes, I'm sure he's being warped...but, I just can't stop!
9. Not forcing interaction with others. Sometimes they boy does not want to say hello to you. He doesn't want to be held by you. He does not want your kisses or hugs. I will not force him; he's his own person.
10. Letting him eat in the living room. I hate to eat at the dinner table when it's just the two of us. It feels lonely. I'd much rather put down a blanket on the floor and eat there. He often has snacks on my chair in front of the TV. This, I feel more shameful about...maybe a bit embarrassed. Oh well. I'm not going to change that habit right now, so I might as well do it without guilt.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
That's Dylan!
Dylan is on a kick where he loves to see pictures of himself. One of our favorite little activities is to get out the digital camera and go through the pictures. He smiles this quirky little proud smile whenever he sees himself in a picture. He tells me who people are and what he and they are doing in the pictures. I got some great videos of him (I'll post later) and he LOVED looking at them over and over again. Too sweet!
Disbelief
We've got ourselves a winter storm. The rain is pouring down and the wind is moaning through any path it can find into the house. Even though I have the fireplace blocked off (it's mostly ornamental and useless, anyway), the wind squeezes through and whines at me. Dylan thinks it's an owl. The creek behind our condo is overflowing. I watched a duck craftily timing his crossing, the swiftness of the rapids pulling him across with no effort.
I cannot even believe what happened at the mediation. When this whole moving to Boise issue started, I was eager to get Ivan to agree and eager to just get the divorce over with. I didn't want to go to court, and that gave Ivan a way to bully me into agreeing to far more than was reasonable. I knew it, and accepted it as the price I needed to pay to get the things that were truly important to me. Our original agreement provided that I pay spousal support regardless of whether or not he got a job (more than what the calculator said was appropriate, too). I agreed to bring Dylan to Sacramento once a month at my expense. There were other perks, too, but those were the big things. Then, Ivan decided that wasn't enough--that I should fly Dylan back to Sacramento twice per month or he would back out of the agreement. This was after we had signed it and notarized it and I had driven to Boise with my dad to ready our room at their house (and by ready, I mean serious renovation here).
The whole experience ended with me saying that we would have to go to court. And, so we have. There are three more times to go back and hopefully it will be resolved. Over. And, this has all happened without a lawyer. It isn't easy to navigate our legal system and to wonder what the paperwork means or what to ask for or do.
The first time we went to court, Ivan missed the settlement conference and neglected to file issues for trial. So, he handed his issues to me on the day of the trial (which got postponed because the court forgot to put us on the docket). It was horrible--he said so many terrible things about me, my friends, and my family in those papers. He worded everything so carefully to make it sound like my parents were the leaders of a gun-toting conservative cult that physically, mentally, and sexually abused children. I read those words, looked up at Ivan and said, "Are you serious? Are you really going to bring in allegations of sexual abuse?!" He danced around, pointing a finger at me, "Can you deny it? Can you deny that your siblings were not abused?"
For the record, I have two adopted sisters--one older and one younger. They did suffer unknown and varying degrees of abuse prior to living with us.
He said that my friends were all drug addicts, drug dealers, welfare cheaters and ex-convicts. For the record, I don't know about the drug dealer part, but I suspect most of these descriptions are of my friend who is 8 years sober. She was convicted of felony assault prior to that. It's true. Last year, she received an award from the mayor for her outstanding contributions to the community. Like the mayor, I feel that her past is no concern of mine. I felt the same way about Ivan's own youthful expriences (which will go undetailed in this blog). I also have friends who recieve some kind of help from the government. As did I in my youth. As did Ivan's mother when she needed it. Ugh. I was so sad about those things that he said. He doesn't even see how they are hurtful. Like my mom says, "Well, that's why we're divorcing him, dear."
Even as we approached this mediation, he had ideas about what he wanted. He'd call and propose them to me. Mostly I didn't get angry, but I was annoyed. I was so prepared for the mediation to be a painful experience - each of us bluffing about how much we'd be willing to bend on what we want so that we don't end up getting royally screwed. Ugh. And, he'd bring up his terrible (unfounded, but still painful) accusations about me.
I got an opinion from my ex-lawyer (what do you even call someone who used to represent you) and she told me that the only way I'd get to Boise is if I said I am moving - period. I have a constitutional right to move wherever I want. Then, I have to say I'm moving no matter what and the court has to decide if it's better for Dylan to move with me or stay with Ivan. The bluff to end all bluffs. How could I say I'd leave him behind?! It was terrifying to walk into that room prepared to say that.
Well, after all that, this is what actually happened. The mediator let Ivan go first. Ivan rambled on about his fears and what he didn't want until the mediator asked what he did want. He said I should have to pay for at least 4 trips to see him. My eyes popped out of my head! I asked the mediator if I could interrupt - he said no, of course - but, I said please I think it's important. I'm sure he expected me to go off on Ivan or protest. What I said was, "Sir, in my responsive declaration, I offered to pay for six trips per year. I believe we just came to an agreement."
So, there you have it. Dylan and I are moving to Boise. Every other month, I will fly Dylan to spend six days with his dad - here or anywhere else on the West Coast. That's it. Nothing else. It's way less than even my responsive declaration, never mind our original agreement. I can't even believe it. What happened? I have no idea. For sure, it's going to suck to do all that travel. But, Dylan does deserve to see his dad and extended family. Ivan has no money but mine, so of course it's going to be me paying for it. We even got supervised visitation until Dylan is three. I'd prefer four, but three is good. I'm sure I can teach him to use a phone by then.
I cannot even believe what happened at the mediation. When this whole moving to Boise issue started, I was eager to get Ivan to agree and eager to just get the divorce over with. I didn't want to go to court, and that gave Ivan a way to bully me into agreeing to far more than was reasonable. I knew it, and accepted it as the price I needed to pay to get the things that were truly important to me. Our original agreement provided that I pay spousal support regardless of whether or not he got a job (more than what the calculator said was appropriate, too). I agreed to bring Dylan to Sacramento once a month at my expense. There were other perks, too, but those were the big things. Then, Ivan decided that wasn't enough--that I should fly Dylan back to Sacramento twice per month or he would back out of the agreement. This was after we had signed it and notarized it and I had driven to Boise with my dad to ready our room at their house (and by ready, I mean serious renovation here).
The whole experience ended with me saying that we would have to go to court. And, so we have. There are three more times to go back and hopefully it will be resolved. Over. And, this has all happened without a lawyer. It isn't easy to navigate our legal system and to wonder what the paperwork means or what to ask for or do.
The first time we went to court, Ivan missed the settlement conference and neglected to file issues for trial. So, he handed his issues to me on the day of the trial (which got postponed because the court forgot to put us on the docket). It was horrible--he said so many terrible things about me, my friends, and my family in those papers. He worded everything so carefully to make it sound like my parents were the leaders of a gun-toting conservative cult that physically, mentally, and sexually abused children. I read those words, looked up at Ivan and said, "Are you serious? Are you really going to bring in allegations of sexual abuse?!" He danced around, pointing a finger at me, "Can you deny it? Can you deny that your siblings were not abused?"
For the record, I have two adopted sisters--one older and one younger. They did suffer unknown and varying degrees of abuse prior to living with us.
He said that my friends were all drug addicts, drug dealers, welfare cheaters and ex-convicts. For the record, I don't know about the drug dealer part, but I suspect most of these descriptions are of my friend who is 8 years sober. She was convicted of felony assault prior to that. It's true. Last year, she received an award from the mayor for her outstanding contributions to the community. Like the mayor, I feel that her past is no concern of mine. I felt the same way about Ivan's own youthful expriences (which will go undetailed in this blog). I also have friends who recieve some kind of help from the government. As did I in my youth. As did Ivan's mother when she needed it. Ugh. I was so sad about those things that he said. He doesn't even see how they are hurtful. Like my mom says, "Well, that's why we're divorcing him, dear."
Even as we approached this mediation, he had ideas about what he wanted. He'd call and propose them to me. Mostly I didn't get angry, but I was annoyed. I was so prepared for the mediation to be a painful experience - each of us bluffing about how much we'd be willing to bend on what we want so that we don't end up getting royally screwed. Ugh. And, he'd bring up his terrible (unfounded, but still painful) accusations about me.
I got an opinion from my ex-lawyer (what do you even call someone who used to represent you) and she told me that the only way I'd get to Boise is if I said I am moving - period. I have a constitutional right to move wherever I want. Then, I have to say I'm moving no matter what and the court has to decide if it's better for Dylan to move with me or stay with Ivan. The bluff to end all bluffs. How could I say I'd leave him behind?! It was terrifying to walk into that room prepared to say that.
Well, after all that, this is what actually happened. The mediator let Ivan go first. Ivan rambled on about his fears and what he didn't want until the mediator asked what he did want. He said I should have to pay for at least 4 trips to see him. My eyes popped out of my head! I asked the mediator if I could interrupt - he said no, of course - but, I said please I think it's important. I'm sure he expected me to go off on Ivan or protest. What I said was, "Sir, in my responsive declaration, I offered to pay for six trips per year. I believe we just came to an agreement."
So, there you have it. Dylan and I are moving to Boise. Every other month, I will fly Dylan to spend six days with his dad - here or anywhere else on the West Coast. That's it. Nothing else. It's way less than even my responsive declaration, never mind our original agreement. I can't even believe it. What happened? I have no idea. For sure, it's going to suck to do all that travel. But, Dylan does deserve to see his dad and extended family. Ivan has no money but mine, so of course it's going to be me paying for it. We even got supervised visitation until Dylan is three. I'd prefer four, but three is good. I'm sure I can teach him to use a phone by then.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Butterflies
Today, in just a few hours, Ivan and I will be sitting in front of a stranger who will be making a major decision for us: where Dylan will live and how often he's see his dad. It feels like a monumental moment and I have to take a step back and remember that nothing is permanent. It reminds me of the emotions of high school - like every decision is forever and the most important thing that is ever going to happen to me.
Dylan is up and watching TV (good, mom, way to start the day) and I am working manning a booth at a virtual conference that my company is participating in. I've got Word World and the Beatles in my ear and Dylan chatting with me about what's going on in World World. He woke up in such a good mood! It makes me feel great!
Dylan is up and watching TV (good, mom, way to start the day) and I am working manning a booth at a virtual conference that my company is participating in. I've got Word World and the Beatles in my ear and Dylan chatting with me about what's going on in World World. He woke up in such a good mood! It makes me feel great!
Sunday, February 20, 2011
El Dolor Que Tengo Yo
No sé como decirte
No sé como explicarte
Que aquí no hay remedio
De lo que siento yo
De lo que siento yo
La luna me dice una cosa
Las estrellas me dicen otra
Y la luz del día me canta
Esta triste canción
Esta triste canción
Los besos que me diste mi amor
Son los que me están matando
Y las lágrimas me están secando
Con mi pistola y mi corazón
Y aquí siempre paso la vida
Con la pistola y el corazón
No sé como amarte
No sé como abrazarte
Porque no se me deja
El dolor que tengo yo
El dolor que tengo yo
Esta noche tan oscura
Con sus sombras tan tranquilas
Y el viento me sigue cantando
Esta humilde canción
Esta humilde canción
Los besos que me diste mi amor
Son los que me están matando
Y las lágrimas me están secando
Con mi pistola y mi corazón
Y aquí siempre paso la vida
Con la pistola y el corazón
And I just realized that none of our Los Lobos made it onto my iPod before I left. Admittedly, it was probably all his to begin with, so I don't begrudge him still owning it. I took no music with me except the "crap" I had when we met that I know he doesn't like. Still, I thought I'd gotten this on my music list. Watching an episode of Prison Break (Season 2) today with Robin, this song highlighted a scene and I couldn't get it out of my head. The only part I've ever been able to sing without looking at the lyric sheet is...
"Looooos BEsos QUUUEE me DIste, mi amor..."
Tragic. I see some iTunes spending when I get my tax refund back...
My New Hat!
Meredith finished my hat and now Dylan and I have "matching" (albeit, different colors) hats. We call them "Meredith Hats" (or "Messy Hats" if you say it in Dylanese). Here's mine:
More Carseat Fun
I really, really can't help it. Really, I can't; it's an addiction.
When I'm driving down the street and we are singing another song or playing a game of scare mommy or talking about monsters, T-Rexes, or sharing with friends...I just love that little guy in the rear view mirror. And, I snap a picture if I can.
Park Daze
So, now Dylan and I have started patrolling the parks. Paranoid that I am, we never hit the same park twice in a row--there are plenty to choose from. I also like the variety--it helps me keep from going stale. This is a couple weeks' worth of photos.
It's also fun if we stop and get a special treat first:
We usually run around a lot. We play a game called "Mommy Monster, Dylan Monster" and I'm pretty sure you can tell how it goes. A bunch of growling and running--taking turns chasing or being chased. When it's my turn to be chased, I always run with my hands in the air. We usually pick a "safe" spot, where the chasee becomes the chaser.
Dylan took his T-Rex one day...and decided that he needed to swim in the muddy waters left behind from the recent rain.
Chucking him into the puddle was oodles of fun; each time, Dylan said, "T-Rex take-ah bath!"
"In da mud!"
Then, he set up a "happy cake" shop under the slide and made mud pie, which he sold to me for "money." He did cheat me out of a piece, though, running off after I paid him. Which, of course, became a variation of the monster game as I ran after him shouting, "Give me my happy cake!"
It's also fun if we stop and get a special treat first:
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| lemon poppy seed |
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| yum! |
We usually run around a lot. We play a game called "Mommy Monster, Dylan Monster" and I'm pretty sure you can tell how it goes. A bunch of growling and running--taking turns chasing or being chased. When it's my turn to be chased, I always run with my hands in the air. We usually pick a "safe" spot, where the chasee becomes the chaser.
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| grrrr! |
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| So cute! |
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| SAFE! |
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| climbing up |
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| Sliding Down |
Dylan took his T-Rex one day...and decided that he needed to swim in the muddy waters left behind from the recent rain.
Chucking him into the puddle was oodles of fun; each time, Dylan said, "T-Rex take-ah bath!"
"In da mud!"
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| Got my T-Rex |
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| Bath Time |
Then, he set up a "happy cake" shop under the slide and made mud pie, which he sold to me for "money." He did cheat me out of a piece, though, running off after I paid him. Which, of course, became a variation of the monster game as I ran after him shouting, "Give me my happy cake!"
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| Setting up shop |
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| no cake for you! |
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| give me money |
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| dropped your happy cake |
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| Time to go home... |
Pajama Sundays
By virtue of not wanting to do battle with Dylan over fashion choices, we've developed a tradition: Pajama Sundays.
Dylan doesn't need to get into real clothes on a Sunday. This is from a few Sundays ago.
We grabbed the tricycle and went to the park. I made my decision to not do that again for a while. The magic of the trike has worn off and the struggle to get home was horrid. It's easy enough to convince him to leave, but the 20 minute walk back "quickly" turns into an hour. Blech.
Still, the getting there is fun!
Dylan rolled around in the grass and insisted I do the same.
Dylan doesn't need to get into real clothes on a Sunday. This is from a few Sundays ago.
We grabbed the tricycle and went to the park. I made my decision to not do that again for a while. The magic of the trike has worn off and the struggle to get home was horrid. It's easy enough to convince him to leave, but the 20 minute walk back "quickly" turns into an hour. Blech.
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| A man on a mission |
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| serious business |
Dylan rolled around in the grass and insisted I do the same.
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| oh - too bright |
Monday, February 7, 2011
Successful
Being a single parent means that there's rarely anyone to "tag in" when you need a helping hand. With my parents back in Idaho, I'm really on my own. Days when I've stayed up too late working almost always go hand-in-hand with an early wake-up call from the little mister. Thus, my invention of "minimal effort" parenting--calculating the least amount of movement that is actually required to make it through the next hour. One hour at a time.
Those days don't feel much like a success. I'm skirting the edge of a meltdown...for both of us. It's all I can do to keep moving and get enough activity in to keep Dylan from misbehaving. Usually there are too many goldfish consumed and not enough veggies. Sunday morning was one of those days. I was just hanging on by the skin of my teeth watching the clock and waiting for nap time, supplementing learning time with a walk to the park (aka: torture mommy for an hour while she tries to get you home). Hopefully, Dylan doesn't notice much, but I'm sure he does notice. I have a look about me on those days that says, "I'm hanging on by a thread!"
Well, today was not one of those days. Today was a day that I will go to bed with a success notch in my belt. I was up with energy - no desperate morning television so that I can sit with Dylan on my lap and just not move for 20 minutes. We had actual learning time, a good teeth-brushing, and a trip to the pediatrician all before 9 am! Go mommy!
I was productive at work, finishing up some loose ends that have been plaguing my "to-do" list for too long. Go employee!
But, my evening was particularly successful. Dylan was spunky and excited when I picked him up from daycare. I decided to make the most of that mood and put off going home to make dinner by swinging by the library and park. I grabbed a book for me (I mean, why not...what with all the spare time I've got, right?) and a handful of books for Dylan (all from the same shelf, of course...no time for reading titles). We shoved those in the car and ran amok in the park--over the slides, around the swings. A fabulous time was had by all and not a whimper or a whine about getting back in the car.
I made chicken, broccoli, and brown rice for dinner and Dylan ate it all! Plus, some veggie-fruit juice to wash it down. Watching my son eat healthy and heartily gives me a special warm fuzzy feeling. We watched just a little Dinosaur Train and then scooted for bed. Dylan gobbled up his new books even better than he gobbled dinner and went to bed with his two favorites (for today) tucked under his arm. I love it!
Those days don't feel much like a success. I'm skirting the edge of a meltdown...for both of us. It's all I can do to keep moving and get enough activity in to keep Dylan from misbehaving. Usually there are too many goldfish consumed and not enough veggies. Sunday morning was one of those days. I was just hanging on by the skin of my teeth watching the clock and waiting for nap time, supplementing learning time with a walk to the park (aka: torture mommy for an hour while she tries to get you home). Hopefully, Dylan doesn't notice much, but I'm sure he does notice. I have a look about me on those days that says, "I'm hanging on by a thread!"
Well, today was not one of those days. Today was a day that I will go to bed with a success notch in my belt. I was up with energy - no desperate morning television so that I can sit with Dylan on my lap and just not move for 20 minutes. We had actual learning time, a good teeth-brushing, and a trip to the pediatrician all before 9 am! Go mommy!
I was productive at work, finishing up some loose ends that have been plaguing my "to-do" list for too long. Go employee!
But, my evening was particularly successful. Dylan was spunky and excited when I picked him up from daycare. I decided to make the most of that mood and put off going home to make dinner by swinging by the library and park. I grabbed a book for me (I mean, why not...what with all the spare time I've got, right?) and a handful of books for Dylan (all from the same shelf, of course...no time for reading titles). We shoved those in the car and ran amok in the park--over the slides, around the swings. A fabulous time was had by all and not a whimper or a whine about getting back in the car.
I made chicken, broccoli, and brown rice for dinner and Dylan ate it all! Plus, some veggie-fruit juice to wash it down. Watching my son eat healthy and heartily gives me a special warm fuzzy feeling. We watched just a little Dinosaur Train and then scooted for bed. Dylan gobbled up his new books even better than he gobbled dinner and went to bed with his two favorites (for today) tucked under his arm. I love it!
Just Talking to my T-Rex...
Yesterday, Dylan and I were playing with Play-Doh, when he suddenly stood up and went behind a chair. A couple grunts later, and it was obvious to me what he was doing. I've been trying to get him to admit he's pooping, but he rarely does. So, I asked him:
"Dylan, are you pooping?"
"No!"
"Are you sure? I think you are pooping - yeeeaaah!"
"No!"
"Dylan, are you pooping over there?"
"NO! Stop it, mommy!" (holding up his little hand, and another grunt)
"Pooping is good, Dylan. I think you are pooping in your diaper."
"No, mommy. I talkeen dat T-Rex ova here."
"Dylan, are you pooping?"
"No!"
"Are you sure? I think you are pooping - yeeeaaah!"
"No!"
"Dylan, are you pooping over there?"
"NO! Stop it, mommy!" (holding up his little hand, and another grunt)
"Pooping is good, Dylan. I think you are pooping in your diaper."
"No, mommy. I talkeen dat T-Rex ova here."
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Hike Day
Dylan and I went for a hike with the hikers group today. Well, more of a walk really.
There were so many people this time because it is an easy jaunt.
Dylan wanted to walk with the others, so I carried an empty backpack for a while. Everything was going well until Dylan started slowing and stopping. I couldn't figure out what he was up to until we were standing alone and the last of our group had meandered off around a corner. He needed to poop. In private.
Of course, I was in a bit of a hurry (toddler mistake #1) and changed his diaper as soon as he was "done" grunting. Not done pooping. After diaper change number two, I convinced him to get in the backpack again and we trooped off to find our troupe.
However, they were long gone and I didn't know the path they were taking. We tried a couple routes,
but never found them.
Self portrait
Soon, I felt the familiar drag of a sleeping boy. Since he was already asleep, I walked around a bit more to see what was there and then made tracks for the car.
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| what's that? |
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| oh... |
So, I thought maybe I was going to be able to get him in the car, but he popped up awake at the sound of bells in the playground. Ok, ok, playground it is. On the way back to the playground from the car, a mom was feeding the chickens. Dylan wanted to be a part of that, but he didn't want to share his goldfish.
The rest of the group came back shortly after that. Nobody even noticed we were missing. I don't think I'll be going with this group again unless the number is smaller. That scares the piss out of me!! The whole point of going is to have other people who know where I am in case something happens. This particular walk is very exposed - homes within earshot the entire way. But, other hikes are not so casual. There is safety in small groups, not large number. Anyway, bygones.
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| big boy swing |
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| more push, mommy |
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| Holding up the tree |
Friday, February 4, 2011
Camera Happy
I found my digital point-and-shooter today! Woohoo - just in time for our hike tomorrow.
Dylan really liked it, too, and wanted exclusive rights to it. Every time he went to "take a picture," this is what he did:
Good job, little man!
Dylan really liked it, too, and wanted exclusive rights to it. Every time he went to "take a picture," this is what he did:
Good job, little man!
Library Day!
I am so excited! Dylan and I went on our first trip to the local library yesterday. Dylan was more interested in playing on the computers than picking out books, so I grabbed just a few with titles that had key words I thought Dylan might like: dinosaur, truck, alligator, bugs, and frog.
As a surprise added bonus, there is a little park behind the library that we've never been to that has fantastic slides! We absolutely will be going there more often. We ran ourselves silly until it got too dark to play. Dylan has gotten pretty good at transitioning by saying thank you and goodbye to all the lovely toys. "Bye, park..thank you park. Bye slide...thank you slide." Well, you get the picture. Here is is asking for a round of Dylan Monster..."You run, Mommy."
It turns out that the dinosaur books won't work. I got him interested in the alligator book, but he didn't make it through the whole thing. So, I picked up the frog book...and that is where the fun really started. If you've never seen Beware of the Frog, I think you really need to check it out. Contrary to what the sweet little cover suggests, it is one sick and twisted kids book! I wasn't more than two pages in and thought to myself, "Holy cow, why on Earth am I reading this to my boy?"
The book goes like this: Mrs. Collywobbles lives next to a big, dark, scary wood and is protected by her little pet frog. A goblin comes to steal her stuff, but the frog eats him. A troll comes to stink her out of house and home, but the frog eats him. An ogre comes to eat her, but the frog eats him. Mrs. Collywobbles agrees to kiss the frog as a symbol of her appreciation and is magically transformed into a pink frog. This pisses her off, so she eats the frog. The end.
The pictures are vivid and the words are terrifying. The bad characters all have disturbing little chants like, "Nickerty-noo, nickerty-noo, if I get a chance, I'll steal from you..." which are perfect fodder for nightmares.
Dylan fell in love with this book.
He made the most glorious frown for every new bad guy, his brow furrowing even deeper as the frog at them up. He, himself, gobbled up the marvelous new vocabulary words: goblin, troll, ogre. He practically shook with anticipation by the time ogre got eaten up, exclaiming, "Dat fog eat-a da oh-ga!" But, when it got right down to the ending, he was completely thrown off by the irony. He just couldn't accept it. That frog ate all the bad guys and now the big pink frog ate him? This can't be right! He went back and re-read the last few pages as if he was trying to make sure the book really intended to let things end this way, then demanded that I "fix it."
Of course, by this time, I was laughing as I explained that I can't fix it, that's just how the book ends. He came to terms with it and then had me read the book - six more times before I laid down the law and sent him to bed...frog book tucked safely under his arm.
He also read the book a few times - well, at least the part from ogre to goodbye little froggy - all on his own.
This is him letting me know that the frog ate up the troll:
And this is the ogre-by far Dylan's favorite character in the whole book:
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