Dillierama

What a difference a couple of months make

A few months ago I took Alex to a place called Kangaroo Zoo where there were about a dozen inflatable bounce houses and slides.  Alex had a ball.  Running around like a maniac, making sure to go on every single activity at least five times.  He went through mazes, he slid down slides, he bounced until he couldn't bounce anymore.  It was such a success, that when a friend of mine asked if we wanted to go with her and her boys this morning, I jumped at the chance.

Alex was excited to go.  All morning, I'd ask him "Are you ready to bounce?" and he'd jump up and down saying "boing boing".  I was excited.  The last few days Alex has been such a cranky pants.  Throwing tantrums at the drop of a hat and pulling his patented "boneless legs" trick when trying to take him home from the park.  He's also getting very aggressive with other kids.  Sure, he's aggressively HUGGING them, but still, unwanted hugs can cause problems.  I figured a day at Kangaroo Zoo would give him an opportunity to run wild and scream and burn off some of that excess energy.  He'd have so much fun, he wouldn't want to waste any time throwing a tantrum.

I was wrong.

It started out great, he ran for the first bounce house and "boing boing"ed happily with his buddies.  Then he got out and made a bee line for the two and under section.  That's where it all went to hell.  Kangaroo Zoo has a sectioned off area for littler kids to play.  Filled with toys and cars and big pillows and puzzles.  This is great, because Alex can go in there and play with some toys when he gets sick of getting pushed around by the bigger kids in the bounce houses.  The bad part is, when he wants to get out, he wants to take the toys with him.  This isn't allowed.  This rule pisses Alex off to no extent.

He'd leave the play area, toy cars in hand, running for the nearest inflatable slide.  I'd go running after him, take the cars away and he'd scream at me, fall on his back and howl.  I'd pick him up, tell him that I understand he wants the toy, and he can have it in the play area.  He'd take the toy, I'd put him in the play area, he'd escape again, and throw the fit again.  Play this scenario on a loop for two hours and toss in a liberal amount of kicking, screaming, crying and throwing of said cars, and you'd have a good picture of what our morning at Kangaroo Zoo was like.

We finally left at noon, both of us covered in tears and snot, Alex still screaming about the fact that he did not have the toys in his hands.  I gave him a package of fruit snacks which he threw one by one in my general direction until they were gone, finally passing out about halfway home.

I'm beginning to realize that they weren't kidding about the "Terrible Twos".  My son is a grumpy little troll most of the time, with the occasional up mood swing when the planets are aligned just so.  Fun things are no longer fun.  He reacts to previous favorite foods as if they were poison.  I'm at a loss as to what to do.  My Positive Parenting book tells me to acknowledge and validate his feelings, and give him extra hugs and most of all smile, speak lovingly to him and simply redirect his attention to something else.  Redirection PISSES HIM OFF.  Alex knows what he wants, and I'm no longer able to distract him with a shiny object or odd looking kitchen utensil.  Not even a similar toy will do.  He wants THAT car.  THAT car with the STRIPES.  The YELLOW stripes, not the BLACK stripes and Oh my GOD, how DARE you try to trick me with the car with the yellow stripes and the blue bumpers when I've clearly indicated that I wanted the car with the yellow stripes and the green bumpers, you horrible beast of a woman!  Giving in to his demands only intensifies the tantrum because I WANT BOTH CARS!  WHY DON'T YOU LOVE ME?  WWWWWAAAAAAAA!!!

I'm scared of Two.  Somebody, please hold me.

Manipulation

He has recently discovered that saying "peees"  (please) will get him anything he wants.  If, for some reason, "peees" doesn't get him what he wants, he'll say "pitty peees" (pretty please).  That always works.  I mean, could YOU say no to "pitty peees"?

Another worthy entry for the baby book

Baby's first poop in the tub:  August 6, 2007

Though I'd heard many, many other mothers talk about their children pooping in the bathtub, I'd long ago gotten over that fear, due to the fact that Alex has never, ever done it.  I'd get after John for refusing to give Alex a bath using the "tub-poop" defense and I'd counter with my belief that since he hasn't done it in nearly two years, he's not likely to start now, so go get the bubble bath already!

I was wrong.  This afternoon as he was playing in the bubbles, he stopped moving and started grunting.  And almost immediately, there lying on the bottom of the tub was a little brown turd.  Having become immune to any and all bodily functions and excretions, I took it as an opportunity to take him out of the tub and stick him on the potty to hopefully finish his business there.  He promptly clamped his cheeks and refused to do any more business.

As a first time tub-poop goes, I count myself very lucky.  Alex had been suffering from a bout of the squirts all weekend so I've been giving him Gatorade and water in lieu of juice, making this bowl movement thankfully solid.  I just drained the tub water and picked it up with some toilet paper.  It could have been so much worse.

A rookie mistake

Last night we were to spend the evening with our friends and their three year old daughter at their apartment.  Normally I absolutely hate going anywhere because it's so hard to keep Alex from breaking things or drinking water out of the dog dishes or smearing poop on other people's couches.  But last night we were going to be somewhere that was already mostly kid-proof, so I was uncharacteristically looking forward to getting out of our house for a change. 

Alex and Regan get along wonderfully, mostly because sharing isn't an issue.  She wants to play with the stuffed animals and Alex wants to play with matchbox cars.  This arrangement allows the two of them to play quite happily together in the playroom for hours with minimal hair pulling, biting and crying.

As expected, the evening went very well, with the exception of the one 15 minute tantrum Alex pitched because he was not allowed to play with the daddy toys (collectible GI Joe's and Star Wars figures that John and Josh were fawning over in the living room).  I blame this tantrum on John because really, what does he expect?  Of course Alex wants to play with the toys the daddy's are playing with.  When his choices are playing princess horsies with Regan and super cool army guys with the daddy's, I mean, come on.  Once he calmed down, it was smooth sailing the rest of the night.  He even fell asleep for two hours allowing us to finish up playing our game on the Wii uninterrupted by requests for juice.

And then we woke him up to go home. 

Normally, when we go somewhere I pack a 50 pound bag of anything and everything you could possibly need for an evening out with Alex.  A variety of different kinds of snacks ranging from Goldfish crackers to a can of green beans.  two bottles, one filled with juice, one empty and a spare juice box.  A minimum of two matchbox cars, three transformer "bots", two favorite stuffed animals, a dozen mega blocks, five books, and some random thing from the kitchen he's never seen like a whisk or an adjustable measuring cup.  I also bring eight diapers and two packs of wipes, butt cream, baby Tylenol, orajel swabs and a small bottle of instant hand sanitizer.  The most important thing I pack are one or all of his three favorites:  "Bunny" (his blue stuffed Easter bunny from this year), "Bankie" (his rocket ship blankie he's had since birth) and "Diego bankie" (his new Go Diego Go blanket).

Last night, I brought one bottle of juice, four diapers, one pack of wipes and hand sanitizer all packed in my relatively small tote bag.  I did this on purpose, reasoning that since we're going to a home occupied by a small child, I wouldn't need to load up for bear, moose and woolly mammoth.  And mostly I was right, that is until he woke up at 2:00AM to go home only to find he did not have "BANKIE!".  He didn't have "DIEGO BANKIE!".  He didn't even have "BUNNY!"

He cried as though John and I had just shot Diegogo in the head right in front of him.  The entire 40 minute drive home, our car shook with the wails of a child scorned.  His sobs were punctuated by shrieks for "BANKIE!  BBBBBANKIE!".  Occasionally, he'd collapse back into his car seat with a whimper and fall asleep for a few seconds before sitting bolt upright howling about the injustice that has been done to him.  I spent the drive turned around in my seat talking to him, occasionally trying to stroke his cheeks, hands and feet to comfort him, only to have him recoil in disgust and scream at me with fire in his eyes.  About halfway home, I began telling him how many miles until we get to bankie.  I told him bunny was waiting up for him in the living room and couldn't wait to see him.  I tried to tell him I was sorry, that I'd messed up.  Mommy made a mistake and it will never happen again, I promise. 

When we finally pulled up to our house, Alex was covered in tears, sweat and snot and I was sick to my stomach with guilt for having caused my poor child so much pain.  We went in to find bunny next to the door, having been tossed into the corner of the room earlier in the day.  We then went immediately into Alex's room, found Diego bankie and I wrapped him up like a burrito and held him until his sniffling subsided and he fell asleep for the night.

Had I ever doubted the need for a comfort item, had I ever thought that my child could survive a simple drive home without his favorite blankies or bunny, those notions have been banished for good.  Mark my words, I will never leave the house without my 50 pound "rescue pack" again.

It doesn't help that I encourage it

Taking charge of his own safety

Alex has spent his entire life being strapped into things; carseat, highchair, grocery cart.  Very rarely he is in a sitting position without a belt buckle on.  He's gotten so used to it that now, when I take him to the grocery store and put him in the cart, he will actually buckle himself in.

Go Alex Go

When we were in Panama, we watched Dora the Explorer and Go, Diego Go because they were the only kids shows that had any English at all.  Alex didn't seem to care much for either show at the time so when we came back, I didn't bother putting either show on for Alex. 

A few weeks ago Alex and I went shopping for a new toothbrush for him.  He's at an age where he really seems to enjoy picking things out himself, so I showed him all of the toddler toothbrushes and immediately he began saying "Diego! Diego!"  pointing wildly at the Go Diego Go toothbrush. I was surprised he recognized the characters, not having seen them since March.  Of course, we got the Diego brush.

Alex LOVES his new Go Diego Go toothbrush and when we go into the bathroom every morning to brush his teeth, he squeals with excitement "Diegogo! Diegogo!"  I still hadn't bothered to put the show on for him though.

This week we were out looking for new sippy cups. I didn't even have to give him choices, the second we walked up to the sippy cups, Alex went wild shouting "Diegogo! Diegogo! Diegogo!"  I found the Diego sippies and handed to them to Alex and he hugged the package like it was his long lost best friend.  He insisted on holding them in the car on the way home and when we got home I washed them at the sink with Alex clinging to my leg wailing "DIEGOGO!" in the most pathetic manner imaginable.  I filled one with juice and handed it to Alex, "DIEGO JUICE!" he exclaimed.

Finally catching on that my son, he kinda likes Go Diego Go, I put the show on for him.  He's usually not able to sit through an entire television program, but he plopped on his butt about a foot away from TV stand and watched the entire show, occasionally pointing to the screen and saying "Diegogo!"  I really don't know why he likes it so much, I can barely stand it, but he does, he absolutely, truly, madly, deeply, loves Go Diego Go.  It could be worse I suppose.  At least it's not Boobah or The Wiggles.

This is the first time in his life that he's demonstrated his very own preferences.  Go Diego Go isn't something I've encouraged he watch.  We watch Arthur every single morning and Alex barely acknowledges the aardvark exists.  It's just another reminder that Alex isn't just an extension of me or John, he's his own person, with his own likes and dislikes.  I love that. 

The big boy bed is a hit

This big boy bed is really working out.  Alex absolutely loves it.  When he wakes up in the morning or from a nap, he'll usually stay in bed for a while, just chillin', then he'll get up and come find me.  Sometimes he just won't get out of bed at all, and I have to go into his room several times tempting him with yogurt or fruit snacks or his singing duck puppet.

Tonight he actually put himself to bed.  We were walking down the hall to his room, I was fully expecting to have to rock him for 10 minutes or so, but no, he just got into bed, laid down and stayed there.  I stood in his room in shock for a while, thinking any minute he'll get up and start jumping on the mattress, but nope.  He went right to sleep.  Weird.

There is still the worry of him getting up in the night and roaming the house unsupervised.  He can open doors, so closing his bedroom door won't keep him in if he really wants out.  We do have a security system with motion sensors, so if he trips those, it would wake us up, but he may be too little for them to detect him.  He's generally a great sleeper, only waking up in the night if he's sick or has a bad dream.  When he's sick, we usually just have him sleeping in our bed anyway, and I'll hear him crying from a bad dream before he can ransack the house.  He's been sleeping in this bed all week and hasn't gotten up yet, so here's hoping it won't be a problem.  I really think it's more likely he'll come get in our bed with us if he gets up in the night anyway.  I hope.

Kissin' Cousins

I never knew how much Alex loved his baby cousin Lily until today.  Yesterday I had a photograph I took of Lily made into a 5x7 and put it on my piano in our family room.  Alex has not left it alone all day.  He keeps taking it off the piano and saying either "baby" or "wiwwie"  I didn't even know he knew her name was Lily.  He's never said it before.  I'm guessing "wiwwie" is his version of "Lily".  If it's not, it's one hell of a coincidence.

Anyhow, just now, I caught him giving "Wiwwie" kisses.  Complete with puckered up lips and smoochie sounds.  One of those times I wish I had my little camera that takes video handy.  I took some still shots with my Canon but it just doesn't do the cuteness any justice.

Smoochie, originally uploaded by Jmelee.

Click on the photo or here to see the set.

Lunchtime entertainment

This afternoon while John was home for lunch, Alex entertained us with a spirited rendition of "The Itsy Bitsy Spider"  complete with the hand actions (though "down comes the rain"  looks suspiciously like Spirit Fingers)

Alex's version of the song goes like this:

"Biddy biddy sider pout RAIN! biddy sider" 

over and over again.  And yes, he sings "RAIN"  bold and underlined with exclamation points along with the aforementioned Spirit Fingers.  The song concludes with a dramatic flourish as he falls face first into the couch cushions.

I almost died from cuteness overload this afternoon is what I'm saying.