Tubful of monkeys

Bigga's first bath in the "big boy" tub. Kiddle has been vehemently against sharing his tub with Bigga, but tonight he finally relented. And loved it.

Perhaps it does grow on trees.

How exactly does a three-year-old know what money is? I kind of get that he understands that bills are money. But coins? Hmmm. I've certainly never made a point of talking about what money is. And, the reality is, he doesn't see actual currency that often since I put everything on my AmEx. Now, if he called a credit card "monies," I'd totally understand. A few recent financial transactions we've had:

A couple of weeks ago, he pulled out a change purse of random foreign coins from my desk drawer, opened it and started passing out "monies" to me. Um, thanks. That's MY money and I'm not headed to Europe anytime soon.

At the zoo last week he wanted to go on this little carousel ride (it had an elephant ... need I say more?) that cost 75 cents. He first said to me, "I need monies," so I, of course, directed him to his father. "Daddy, Daddy, I need monies!" he cried and POINTED TO MR. P'S POCKET. "I need monies in dere, Daddy." Yep, he's definitely got the concept down.

And today was the best. He dashed into the kitchen and said, "I found a penny!" Seriously, how the hell does he know what a PENNY is? Someone explain this to me, please. I'll have to test him tomorrow to see if he knows the difference between nickels and quarters. Perhaps I can train him to scavenge for quarters in the fountain at the zoo and actually contribute a little to the family coffers. He's extra cute. He can get away with it, right?

For the birds.

One of my favourite recent additions to our county zoo has been the new bird exhibit. Simple concept: you can walk along a path filled with parakeets and other tiny birds. For a dollar you can buy a feed stick and entice a bird or two (or ten) with a snack for an up-close encounter. When it first opened, I wasn't sure how Kiddle would react, but he loves it. As long as the birds don't actually perch on his hand, that is.

Men in Trees

Kiddle and I have an understanding. I let him climb this tree whenever he wants and he promises he won't break his arm until he's four.

Oh yeah. That new kid? He's two weeks old today.

Criminal mastermind in the making.

But he's not one just yet.

I was upstairs putting away some laundry, while he was downstairs watching TV. I heard some suspicious, not-watching-TV noises so I headed toward the stairs, calling down, "Kiddle! What are you up to?"

Thump, thump, thump, thump, as he runs back into the living room.
Click, as he turns the TV back on.
Whump, as he throws himself on the couch.

Nice cover. Except that he left the water running in the bathroom.

Where's Kiddle?

Oh. My. God. Kiddle just about sent me into labor a bit ago.

I was upstairs, sorting laundry. Mr. P was in his basement office, working on his thesis. And Kiddle was on the couch watching "Cars." At least that's where we left him.

I thought I heard him crying, and since I knew Mr. P was in the basement, I came downstairs to check it out. He wasn't in the living room and I continued on toward the basement, looking for the source. It sounded like he was crying OUTSIDE so I paused by the side door and called out to Mr. P, "Are you with him?" "Nope," came his reply wafting up from the basement. Fuck.

Kiddle had gone out the side door by himself and was on the driveway sobbing because the asphalt was burning his feet. (I should mention it's almost 90 out today and he was only wearing a diaper.) I almost had a heart attack or, at least, a baby.

In the last week or so, he figured out how to unlock and open the front door. I got an alarm for that door on Friday, but hadn't dealt with the side door just yet. It has a double key deadbolt so he can't get out that door (although he already swipes my keys on occasion and attempts an escape), but today it was open to the screen door because of the heat. Looks like we'll be headed out to Home Depot soon to get another alarm.

Or maybe a lo-jack for Kiddle. They make those for toddlers now, right?

Happy Birthday Kiddle!

Three years old today! It's hard to believe. (And, yes, I know I said that last year and will continue to say it every year of his life. As my mom still does about me!)

We had a birthday party for him at the house yesterday. I admit it was somewhat last minute, because eons ago I thought we might be moving before his birthday, so I had pretty much put party planning out of my head. I finally realized a few weeks before that it might be a good idea to do some celebrating, especially considering that the imminent arrival of a major life disruption is looming.

But, despite my procrastination, it all came together quite well. The theme was Old McDonald's Farm since he's still obsessed with animals. The kiddos wore cowboy hats, decorated farm-animal-shaped cookies (made from scratch by me, thankyouverymuch), sang a spirited version of "Old McDonald" complete with cow, horse, pig and duck visors, and, of course, had the staples of three-year-old birthday parties — pizza and cupcakes. I kept the guest list tiny — just LK, Jack, Mabel and Liam, plus Grandpa, Grandma and all the parents — mostly to keep the cookie decorating manageable. Kiddle had a fantastic time and really seems to be grasping the "birthday" concept.

Today has been pretty low-key. We spread out the gift opening by tying a helium balloon to a gift every couple of hours and sending him off to look for it. He got lots of puzzles, books, a giant John Deere tractor and wagon, a new backpack, a kid-size wheelbarrow and a BIKE. (Well, one of the pedal-less ones so he can learn to balance.)

So, it's been a pretty successful birthday weekend so far with still more to come: a celebration at preschool on Tuesday, then one last chance to blow out the candles with Mr. P's family at Easter dinner next weekend.

Happy birthday, my little one! I love you more than words can describe.

School is cool.

If you've been following along for a while, you'll know that Kiddle has had some going-to-school issues. He's much, much, much improved but his common quip as we pull into the carpool line is "NO KOOL, NO KOOL," and sometimes there are still some tears as he walks away with his teacher.

Imagine my surprise today when when he was giggling to himself as we got in line, and when I trotted out my cheerleader-ish "Yay school!," he actually clapped and said, "YAY KOOL!!" as well. Shocker.

Think he'll have a meltdown next Tuesday?

10 steps to bed.

1) Aim for a 7:00 bedtime ... but always start the process a half hour too late. (Remember, people, he stopped napping. 7:00 is not ridiculously early.)

2) Wrestle Kiddle into a fresh diaper, pull-up (yes, we're layering) and pajamas while he's madly jumping on my bed and hiding under the covers. "HIDEY, Mama! HIDEY!"

3) Dose of Zyrtec, then teeth brushing.

4) Read one or two books. Much to my annoyance, this means toddler look-and-find books. He will not listen to anything story-based right now.

5) Rock in his big red chair for 10 minutes or so while listening to U2 or Led Zeppelin lullaby CD.

6) Tell him it's time to get into bed. He then pushes me backwards to try to keep me in the chair: "Nooo, no bed. Rock, Mama! ROCK!"

7) Rock for two more minutes, then insist he get into bed. Cover him with a blanket, give him a kiss, say "I love you," and hightail it out of the room as quickly as possible before he can untangle himself from the blanket and catch up with me.

8) Dash down the stairs as he flings open his door, rattles the gate, sobbing "MAMA! MAMA! MAMA!"

9) Listen to the wailing until he decides he may as well shut up and go to sleep. Hopefully only two to five minutes.

10) When I head up to bed several hours later, check to see if he's asleep at his door or if he actually made it back to his bed.

I just don't get the racing-after-me step in this process. Why waste a perfectly good sense of sleepiness when he knows I'm not coming back? I do know why though. He wants to be rocked to sleep or for me to sit there while he goes to sleep. No way, bud. I've spent too, too many hours walking, jiggling, snuggling, and rocking you to sleep in the last three years. I'm done. Time to man up and go to sleep on your own. I know you can do it. I've seen you do it. So just do it.

Chariots of Fire: The Toddler Years

I think I broke my kid today.

He had a playdate at our house with a preschool friend. When her mom dropped her off, I said we would just walk Mia home later because it was such a beautiful day out.

Mia doesn't live too far from us; basically just up the street a few blocks. Kiddle and Mia ended up running the entire way there. I must have said "on your mark, get set, go!" one hundred times along the way. Normally I'd take the stroller, as a backup, but didn't this time since I had both kids. Several times I mentioned to Kiddle he could walk, but his reply was always, "NO ... I RUNNING!" Alrighty then.

On the way back he was so wiped out, I wasn't sure he was going to make it home without passing out in someone's yard. Of course, he kept saying, "I KIY YOU," which translates to "I'll carry you," which means YOU carry ME.

Only on the downhills, babe. I'm six months pregnant and you weigh 30 pounds.

I did carry him for a bit and I really did think he had gone to sleep. He was so still and so snuggled into my neck. Until we passed a cat, and I heard him mutter, "LOOK, KIY CAT." Down you go, bud.

When we got home he was a complete blithering idiot. Every single interaction we had was filled with sobbing hysterics.

"Want to watch Zoboomafoo while I get lunch ready?"
"NOOO .... PINGU. PINGU!"
"No Pingu right now. If you don't want to watch Zoboomafoo, then let's have some cottage cheese."
"NO CODGE CHEESE! ZABOO. ZABOO!"
He watches TV for a bit, has a complete meltdown when I sit him at the table, until he digs into his cottage cheese with gusto. (I should probably point out that feeding him cottage cheese is not a punishment ... rather, it's the mainstay of his diet.)
"All done? Ok, time to go upstairs to rest."
"NOOO! NO UPSTAIRS! NO NA! NO RES! MO CODGE CHEESE! PINGU! NO NA!!!"
This diatribe continues as I carry his kicking, writhing body up the stairs to my room and attempt to change his diaper.
"NO DIPEY! NO DIPEY! DOWNSTAIRS! NO NA!"

Ten minutes later, he's sound asleep in my bed and takes a two hour nap for the first time in weeks. I had the hardest time not laughing at him because he was just so fried. I'm not sure that I've ever seen him that tired in the middle of the day.

Oh, and I finally checked the distance my two-year-old ran/walked/stumbled: one mile round trip. Turns out Mia's house isn't quite as close as I thought. Whoops!

Pacifier No More

Kiddle seems to have weathered the end of his pacifier shockingly well.

His last silicone pacifier was tattered to the point that it annoyed him. (He kept manipulating my hands to squeeze the ends together, telling me it's BOKEN and to FIH-IH.) So I trimmed off the jagged parts. Then it really bothered him. But not as much as the alternate choice of a fully-formed latex pacifier.

He pushed on through his annoyance for several days, just so he had something in his mouth while falling asleep. But the last few nights he hasn't even asked for it. It's sitting, rather forlornly, on the ledge in his room. Of course, it's probably helped that he's had a massive cold the last 10 days and can't really breathe through his nose. But I'll take whatever advantage I can get in this process.

.

***

I'm finding that Kiddle is remarkably more adaptable than I anticipate with lots of things. I don't read a lot of child development info because it usually makes me feel like a worse mom than I already do, but it seems like most of what I do read emphasizes helping ease them through whatever transition they happen to be in -- giving up a pacifier, moving to a big kid bed, potty training. (And, lord knows, I am not self-sacrificing enough to do much of the advice. Sleep in a sleeping bag next to their bed ... as if.)

Yet he seems rather unfazed by most things. (Although the worst transition of his short little life, for me anyway, was when we finally let him cry-it-out just before he was a year old. Two weeks of complete and utter hell. And he still doesn't really sleep through the night.) I thought giving up his pacifier would be traumatic and heartbreaking, but he's getting through it just fine. Although I'm sure the first time I don't worry and stress over the approach to a new phase in his life all hell will break loose.

Or will it?

Kiddle peed on the potty!

Yay Kiddle!

His friend LK, who is very proud of her big girl underwear, was over for a playdate this afternoon. Her potty training is going well, but she's still in the stage that you need to put her on the potty every half hour or so. This, of course, meant Kiddle had to sit on the potty too.

Now, sitting on the potty is nothing new. He loves to do it so he can flush the toilet. But today was the first time he's actually produced some pee while sitting there. Way to go! Hopefully it was a bit of a light bulb moment ... but I'm not holding my breath. We're still a lonnnggg way from potty training.

No more pacifier?

So I had this plan.

Throw away his pacifiers as they disintegrate, until they're all gone. Then no more pacifier. Simple, right?

Now that the moment is almost here I find myself waffling. He's always been an intensely oral kid -- he came out of the womb with his hands in his mouth -- and I went the pacifier route to avoid thumb sucking. He loves his pacifier and would still have it 24/7 if I let him. But, he's been quite cooperative about only using it for sleeping and even willingly leaves it in his room when we go downstairs in the morning.

I'm feeling conflicted though about taking it away from him so close to the baby's arrival. Is it better just to let him keep it until we've all adjusted to the new kid? Assuming the baby takes a pacifier, will Kiddle be intensely jealous and try to yank it out of the baby's mouth? Or will it be even worse to try to eliminate it a few months after the baby is around? ARGH! I'm not sure what to do.

I asked on my local moms' message board and of course got the wide range of answers I expected. Do it now. Don't do it now. Go cold turkey. Cut a little more off the pacifier each day until he doesn't want it anymore. Give them to the pacifier fairy for new babies. Focus on what a big boy he is now. Let him do a build-a-bear to replace the pacifier. The problem is I don't think he'll fall for the pacifier fairy, he isn't particularly interested in being a big boy, and he's never been that attached to any one thing for any length of time -- except his pacifier.

So I guess I have to trust my instincts (!!) and stick with the original plan. He's on his last silicone pacifier -- already completely shredded -- and I have one latex pacifier as a backup. He hates the latex, so I'll offer him that one after the silicone one is done and perhaps he'll just stop using it.

It won't be too traumatic, right?

Gulp.