I almost forgot - Dylan and I had an interesting conversation about renting today.
He said that we should draw a happy face on the wall of our house. Back story: Dylan's favorite color is pink. He thinks that I chose this place to live partly because it is pink. He thinks it is our house, even though we only rent the top flat.
Anyway, I told him it's not our house, so we can't do that. He was dumbfounded. How could this not be OUR house if we live here? As it happens, he peed his pants at naptime and instead of changing him into his own clothes, Maestra let him borrow another kid's clothes.
So, I explained that this house isn't ours. We are using it - and pay money to use it - but, we will need to give it back sometime. Not today - not tomorrow, but when we are ready, we will give it back.
Dylan was upset. He hugged the banister on our stairway and said, I don't want to leave our pink house. Then, he magically decided it was ok. He made the conclusion that his house with Grammy and Grandpa in the mountain belongs to Grammy and Grandpa, but we are just borrowing this house for now.
I told him that I am saving up to buy us a house someday that will be our own. He was happy about that. He also told me that he's happy we get to use this house for now.
Such an awesome day we've had!
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Make Me Happy
We've been having such a great time at the Y! It costs a small fortune for our membership, since I don't qualify for any discounts. But, the three days we've been members have been pretty fabulous. We've worked out a pattern where I drop him off in the play room and sweat for 30 minutes and then we spend an hour or more in the pool.
The second day in, some kid puked in the kiddie pool just before we got there and they had to shut it down for a dose of chlorine. The atmosphere is a little more hyper and impersonal than the Natatorium (where Dylan puked in the water and nobody cared - gross, I know, but puking is our lives...another story, another time). Also, parents are not as friendly. I think it's a class difference. In the Natatorium, most folks are upper crust. Not because it costs a lot ($80 for the season for Dylan and I, as opposed to $80 per month at the Y), but because the neighborhood is full of mansions - and even one full-blown castle. So, people assume they're all cut from the same cloth and feel comfortable with each other. At the Y, there are homeless people with free entry all the way to the rich folks who live nearby. So, people don't know where they fit - plus, there's just so many more faces to look at. Crowded and diverse - and somehow, just less inviting. Anyway, side-bar...
The puke situation forced us into the deeper pool, and Dylan's swimming took a major turn for the better. Suddenly, he's "starfishing" on his back and "swimming" (doggy paddle with my hand under him) without hesitation. He's got his face in the water, he's sinking and laughing. It's amazing!
But, I digress. My whole point is that tonight was special. We had so many great moments! Yesterday, Dylan was upset to leave, kicking and on the verge of being unreasonable. Tonight, I told him exactly the same thing as yesterday and it sunk in, even if momentarily. I told him that he had a choice to be sad because we are leaving or be happy because he had fun and could be back again. He totally chose to be happy!
He's even taking showers, now. This from a kid who hates to have his face wet at home.
As we were walking to the car, Dylan said sort of out of the blue, "I'm happy we're coming back another time." and we celebrated his choice with a little dance. So fun!
Then, bedtime was so easy. On another note, my mom will be taking him to the dentist for the first time soon. I've been trying to get him used to the idea by talking about what the dentist will do. On his own, while I was brushing his teeth, he asked me to play dentist. So, I had him open wide and I examined his mouth and brushed very thoroughly. Then, I put my fingers in the side of his mouth and had him "bite down" (softly) and hold still while I used the mouthwash bottle to take an x-ray of each side of his mouth. All great - and at his request.
Then, he submitted to the transition from reading books to singing songs for bedtime without complaint. When I was almost done, I went for the "Go to Sleep Little Baby" song - something he's heard since he was a newborn.
"That song makes me sad, Mommy. Sing something else."
So, I chose, "You are my sunshine" (only the first verse, it turns dark after that). He smiled and closed his eyes.
"See, Mommy, I have a smile now."
And, with that we went for one round of "Hush, Little Baby" and he was fast asleep.
Easy bedtime - such a precious little jewel that sits in my heart and makes my soul lighter.
The second day in, some kid puked in the kiddie pool just before we got there and they had to shut it down for a dose of chlorine. The atmosphere is a little more hyper and impersonal than the Natatorium (where Dylan puked in the water and nobody cared - gross, I know, but puking is our lives...another story, another time). Also, parents are not as friendly. I think it's a class difference. In the Natatorium, most folks are upper crust. Not because it costs a lot ($80 for the season for Dylan and I, as opposed to $80 per month at the Y), but because the neighborhood is full of mansions - and even one full-blown castle. So, people assume they're all cut from the same cloth and feel comfortable with each other. At the Y, there are homeless people with free entry all the way to the rich folks who live nearby. So, people don't know where they fit - plus, there's just so many more faces to look at. Crowded and diverse - and somehow, just less inviting. Anyway, side-bar...
The puke situation forced us into the deeper pool, and Dylan's swimming took a major turn for the better. Suddenly, he's "starfishing" on his back and "swimming" (doggy paddle with my hand under him) without hesitation. He's got his face in the water, he's sinking and laughing. It's amazing!
But, I digress. My whole point is that tonight was special. We had so many great moments! Yesterday, Dylan was upset to leave, kicking and on the verge of being unreasonable. Tonight, I told him exactly the same thing as yesterday and it sunk in, even if momentarily. I told him that he had a choice to be sad because we are leaving or be happy because he had fun and could be back again. He totally chose to be happy!
He's even taking showers, now. This from a kid who hates to have his face wet at home.
As we were walking to the car, Dylan said sort of out of the blue, "I'm happy we're coming back another time." and we celebrated his choice with a little dance. So fun!
Then, bedtime was so easy. On another note, my mom will be taking him to the dentist for the first time soon. I've been trying to get him used to the idea by talking about what the dentist will do. On his own, while I was brushing his teeth, he asked me to play dentist. So, I had him open wide and I examined his mouth and brushed very thoroughly. Then, I put my fingers in the side of his mouth and had him "bite down" (softly) and hold still while I used the mouthwash bottle to take an x-ray of each side of his mouth. All great - and at his request.
Then, he submitted to the transition from reading books to singing songs for bedtime without complaint. When I was almost done, I went for the "Go to Sleep Little Baby" song - something he's heard since he was a newborn.
"That song makes me sad, Mommy. Sing something else."
So, I chose, "You are my sunshine" (only the first verse, it turns dark after that). He smiled and closed his eyes.
"See, Mommy, I have a smile now."
And, with that we went for one round of "Hush, Little Baby" and he was fast asleep.
Easy bedtime - such a precious little jewel that sits in my heart and makes my soul lighter.
I hate you
I am a sucker for links on Yahoo! about parenting, but I rarely get much out of them.
Today there was a silly video on parenting mistakes - or rather some lady telling a story about her reaction when her daughter (school age) said "I hate you!" for the first time.
First, I can't believe she got that old before she said it for the first time. I only have my son to compare with, of course, and maybe there is a difference between boys and girls - maybe there is a parenting difference. But, my son has certainly said this, but he doesn't dare say it now. He will occasionally try it out with things like, "I hate this toy."
Second, the lady said she was heartbroken by the statement. I wonder what rock she has been sheltered under. I remember saying it (and certainly thinking it) with my parents. I know other parents who've had it said to them. To me, these expressions are not usually a reflection of actual affection (albeit, I'm sure there are cases where it's true), but rather the child either feeling out a new word or dealing the the frustration of over-exploding situational emotion.
I don't think that Dylan owes me an unwavering expression of love and happiness - that's just not how life works. I don't use the word hate in front of him, so it shocked me when he first used it with such vehemence (he's a melodramitic young man) regarding a toy that was out of batteries. At first, I was like, "Where on Earth did you get that word?!" Then, I though, ah, yes he's heard me read it in books and he's certainly heard it in cartoons--probably even from kids at school. I just told him that it's a terrible word to actually use, even if he hears it from other people. "I don't like this toy" does the job just fine and he should say that instead.
It worked for a while, but before long, he tried out "I hate you, Mommy!" Following my mom's advice, I told him that, "I feel sad when you use that word." (This is compared to "It makes me sad when you say that"...thank you nonviolent communication.) I also told him that I love him and even if I am really angry with his actions, I would never say something as horrible as "hate." Then, I dropped it. There's no use in long, drawn-out explanations or making a drama out of something. It's the fastest way for him to continue behaving badly is to focus on it - he loves the excitement of drama.
He tried it out a few more times, and each time I just reiterated and added a bit more commentary depending on the situation, like, "If you are angry, you need to say you're angry, don't say something mean." or "Saying that won't change my answer."
Now, he doesn't say it anymore about people--his choice. He's never been punished for saying it.
It reminds me of "shit" and "dammit", which he has, of course, heard me blurt out. (I am a die-hard potty mouth trying to keep my language in check around my son.) He tried them out, knows that they are bad words to use and doesn't use them, even if he hears me say them. Sometimes, he likes to sneak in a use for them like, "Mommy, I don't say dammit." For these words, he will get in trouble. I told him he can choose to use them when he's an adult, but that they are ugly words--they are words that will get him in trouble at school. I expect he will use them later - especially to prove he's really upset or really independent. I expect there will be at least one letter home or parent conference about it. Dylan is strong-willed and passionate just like me - just like his father. But, for now, it's not an issue. The best I can hope for is to give him the foundation to work through and work with those strong emotions. Those strong emotions will bring him great happiness and love - they will put magic in his life.
I don't know - and don't get me wrong, I have my own set of parenting mistakes to acknowledge, but I just wonder about parents who take things said by children in a state of heightened emotion personally. They must have been very different children from what I was - or they have forgotten what it feels like to have your entire world governed by the rules and actions of your parents. Kids aren't subjected to the cares and concerns of the world like a job, bills, and, well, raising a child. They also lack the means to work towards many of the goals they have (getting a new toy, staying up late, visiting a friend). As adults, we can take more responsibility for those things (work to save up for the toy, understand the consequences of staying up late, balance our choice to visit a friend or do something else). The adults in their lives are the gatekeepers for these goals - the yes and the no remain solely in the parents' power.
So, what does an adult feel when they are stripped of the power to make their own choices? When they are powerless to pursue that which they prize most? Well, I'll tell you, my friend. It pisses us all off or it beats us down. As adults, we've developed our own patterns for handling it. Maybe we pursue the goal with mind-numbing passion, maybe we rail against the system, maybe we give up,maybe we go home and beat the dog...maybe we even learn to accept it and find the happiness that we've been given. But, the source of our problem is not as clear--could be the "government" or "society" in general--could be a situation caused by our own choices and behavior. For a child, it is very clear. Mommy said no. I'm mad at Mommy. It's not personal, it's logical.
I do feel tired when my efforts are met with whining and tears. Like, last night I made up a great picnic dinner, and Dylan found the one thing I hadn't packed and decided it was the only thing he wanted. He decided this halfway through his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which he threw to the ground in protest. I'm not sure why he does this - sometimes he just gets in a mood to be angry. I can see it coming from a mile away, but at this point he just has to go through the motions.
It was difficult not to get angry back. There's always that flash of emotion where I see myself shaking some sense into him. Like I said, I am a passionate and emotional person - impulsive in my initial reactions. But, I'm also an "end-game" thinker and what's the good in reacting with the same actions I am trying to teach him not to use? I have to take a breath and push past it.
Last night, I just told him that I felt sad because I worked so hard to make a nice picnic for him so we could go have fun. If he would be happy and say thank you, I would feel happy-I feel sad when he doesn't thank me for working hard so that we could have fun together. I told him that he was being rude - that's no way to treat someone you love who's done something nice for you. I reminded him that he should focus on the good and be happy, not on what's missing and be sad. I picked up the sandwich and told him he would have to decide if he was going to be happy and we would have a nice picnic and go play, or if he was going to continue to be rude and angry and we would just go home. (Mind you, this conversation it taking place in small pieces in between whines and complaints from him.)
He whined about wanting the thing (can't remember what it was) for a while.. Finally, he came around to being happy; "Mommy, I am going to be happy. Please give me my peanut butter and jelly sandwich." (which, of course, came out in pieces with a little prompting on my part). When he comes around to this thinking, I try to always congratulate him on making the right choice and then we move on.
What's the point of all this? I don't know. Just a rant to make myself feel better about myself I imagine. I think a parent, I want to reassure myself that I'm doing a good job. Sometimes, typing it out makes it more true. Maybe it's my own positive reinforcement for myself. :)
Today there was a silly video on parenting mistakes - or rather some lady telling a story about her reaction when her daughter (school age) said "I hate you!" for the first time.
First, I can't believe she got that old before she said it for the first time. I only have my son to compare with, of course, and maybe there is a difference between boys and girls - maybe there is a parenting difference. But, my son has certainly said this, but he doesn't dare say it now. He will occasionally try it out with things like, "I hate this toy."
Second, the lady said she was heartbroken by the statement. I wonder what rock she has been sheltered under. I remember saying it (and certainly thinking it) with my parents. I know other parents who've had it said to them. To me, these expressions are not usually a reflection of actual affection (albeit, I'm sure there are cases where it's true), but rather the child either feeling out a new word or dealing the the frustration of over-exploding situational emotion.
I don't think that Dylan owes me an unwavering expression of love and happiness - that's just not how life works. I don't use the word hate in front of him, so it shocked me when he first used it with such vehemence (he's a melodramitic young man) regarding a toy that was out of batteries. At first, I was like, "Where on Earth did you get that word?!" Then, I though, ah, yes he's heard me read it in books and he's certainly heard it in cartoons--probably even from kids at school. I just told him that it's a terrible word to actually use, even if he hears it from other people. "I don't like this toy" does the job just fine and he should say that instead.
It worked for a while, but before long, he tried out "I hate you, Mommy!" Following my mom's advice, I told him that, "I feel sad when you use that word." (This is compared to "It makes me sad when you say that"...thank you nonviolent communication.) I also told him that I love him and even if I am really angry with his actions, I would never say something as horrible as "hate." Then, I dropped it. There's no use in long, drawn-out explanations or making a drama out of something. It's the fastest way for him to continue behaving badly is to focus on it - he loves the excitement of drama.
He tried it out a few more times, and each time I just reiterated and added a bit more commentary depending on the situation, like, "If you are angry, you need to say you're angry, don't say something mean." or "Saying that won't change my answer."
Now, he doesn't say it anymore about people--his choice. He's never been punished for saying it.
It reminds me of "shit" and "dammit", which he has, of course, heard me blurt out. (I am a die-hard potty mouth trying to keep my language in check around my son.) He tried them out, knows that they are bad words to use and doesn't use them, even if he hears me say them. Sometimes, he likes to sneak in a use for them like, "Mommy, I don't say dammit." For these words, he will get in trouble. I told him he can choose to use them when he's an adult, but that they are ugly words--they are words that will get him in trouble at school. I expect he will use them later - especially to prove he's really upset or really independent. I expect there will be at least one letter home or parent conference about it. Dylan is strong-willed and passionate just like me - just like his father. But, for now, it's not an issue. The best I can hope for is to give him the foundation to work through and work with those strong emotions. Those strong emotions will bring him great happiness and love - they will put magic in his life.
I don't know - and don't get me wrong, I have my own set of parenting mistakes to acknowledge, but I just wonder about parents who take things said by children in a state of heightened emotion personally. They must have been very different children from what I was - or they have forgotten what it feels like to have your entire world governed by the rules and actions of your parents. Kids aren't subjected to the cares and concerns of the world like a job, bills, and, well, raising a child. They also lack the means to work towards many of the goals they have (getting a new toy, staying up late, visiting a friend). As adults, we can take more responsibility for those things (work to save up for the toy, understand the consequences of staying up late, balance our choice to visit a friend or do something else). The adults in their lives are the gatekeepers for these goals - the yes and the no remain solely in the parents' power.
So, what does an adult feel when they are stripped of the power to make their own choices? When they are powerless to pursue that which they prize most? Well, I'll tell you, my friend. It pisses us all off or it beats us down. As adults, we've developed our own patterns for handling it. Maybe we pursue the goal with mind-numbing passion, maybe we rail against the system, maybe we give up,maybe we go home and beat the dog...maybe we even learn to accept it and find the happiness that we've been given. But, the source of our problem is not as clear--could be the "government" or "society" in general--could be a situation caused by our own choices and behavior. For a child, it is very clear. Mommy said no. I'm mad at Mommy. It's not personal, it's logical.
I do feel tired when my efforts are met with whining and tears. Like, last night I made up a great picnic dinner, and Dylan found the one thing I hadn't packed and decided it was the only thing he wanted. He decided this halfway through his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which he threw to the ground in protest. I'm not sure why he does this - sometimes he just gets in a mood to be angry. I can see it coming from a mile away, but at this point he just has to go through the motions.
It was difficult not to get angry back. There's always that flash of emotion where I see myself shaking some sense into him. Like I said, I am a passionate and emotional person - impulsive in my initial reactions. But, I'm also an "end-game" thinker and what's the good in reacting with the same actions I am trying to teach him not to use? I have to take a breath and push past it.
Last night, I just told him that I felt sad because I worked so hard to make a nice picnic for him so we could go have fun. If he would be happy and say thank you, I would feel happy-I feel sad when he doesn't thank me for working hard so that we could have fun together. I told him that he was being rude - that's no way to treat someone you love who's done something nice for you. I reminded him that he should focus on the good and be happy, not on what's missing and be sad. I picked up the sandwich and told him he would have to decide if he was going to be happy and we would have a nice picnic and go play, or if he was going to continue to be rude and angry and we would just go home. (Mind you, this conversation it taking place in small pieces in between whines and complaints from him.)
He whined about wanting the thing (can't remember what it was) for a while.. Finally, he came around to being happy; "Mommy, I am going to be happy. Please give me my peanut butter and jelly sandwich." (which, of course, came out in pieces with a little prompting on my part). When he comes around to this thinking, I try to always congratulate him on making the right choice and then we move on.
What's the point of all this? I don't know. Just a rant to make myself feel better about myself I imagine. I think a parent, I want to reassure myself that I'm doing a good job. Sometimes, typing it out makes it more true. Maybe it's my own positive reinforcement for myself. :)
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
All or Nothing
I decided that one of my problems with exercise is that I have an "all or nothing" attitude. If I can't have the perfect workout, then I don't want one at all.
That means that as of today, I am terribly out of shape. I get winded far too easily and I have little stamina for longer activities. My upper body (which used to be my pride and joy) is sadly incapable of any of the activities I would have loved (think, swimming, kayaking) and my lower back and shoulders are unable to sustain the weight of Dylan to go on a hike longer than a mile.
It is a sad state of affairs.
This, I believe, is one of the contributing factors to my prolonged melancholy. I've tried different approaches and headed off in the right direction a few times on fixing the blues. But, the isolation of my work & lack of social life take over and I'm right back to singing them again.
So - I decided that if I can get my body back on track, my mind will follow. Yesterday, I got Dylan and I a member ship at the Y. It's amazing! The children's area is perfect - a small-scale monkey bizness. Plus, the pool is wonderful. Dylan and I plan to have him go to the play area while I work out and then we can both go to the pool.
I also finally went to the noon swim at the Natatorium. I can only fit in 15 minutes of swimming between biking there and showering up, but that's the thing. 15 minutes and a short bike ride is far better than nothing. I'd prefer 45 mintues, but it's not going to happen.
That means that as of today, I am terribly out of shape. I get winded far too easily and I have little stamina for longer activities. My upper body (which used to be my pride and joy) is sadly incapable of any of the activities I would have loved (think, swimming, kayaking) and my lower back and shoulders are unable to sustain the weight of Dylan to go on a hike longer than a mile.
It is a sad state of affairs.
This, I believe, is one of the contributing factors to my prolonged melancholy. I've tried different approaches and headed off in the right direction a few times on fixing the blues. But, the isolation of my work & lack of social life take over and I'm right back to singing them again.
So - I decided that if I can get my body back on track, my mind will follow. Yesterday, I got Dylan and I a member ship at the Y. It's amazing! The children's area is perfect - a small-scale monkey bizness. Plus, the pool is wonderful. Dylan and I plan to have him go to the play area while I work out and then we can both go to the pool.
I also finally went to the noon swim at the Natatorium. I can only fit in 15 minutes of swimming between biking there and showering up, but that's the thing. 15 minutes and a short bike ride is far better than nothing. I'd prefer 45 mintues, but it's not going to happen.
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