Sticky Sticky Henry

I'm female and I had one sister growing up so I had absolutely no idea what it was like to be, or live with a little boy until I had H.  

One of the things that I find to be the most confusing is that the kid is ALWAYS sticky.  Actually, it's not even just his body that's sticky, it's his chair, the floor around his chair, the walls within 10 feet of his chair, most of his toys, and all of his shoes. I'm especially confused about the shoes...

Today while C was in swim class I was watching her through the glass and H was all over the place as usual. I started taking note of what he was doing with his body and this is what happened:

1. touch the glass

2. touch the floor

3. step on mom's foot

4. grab a random bottle of water and ask if he could drink it

5. touch the glass

6. touch about 7 chairs while trying to pick the perfect chair. 

7. sit for 3 seconds

8. lick the glass

9. smirk at mom

10. lick the glass again

11. manhandle A

12. lay on the floor 

13. smear something blue on the glass

14. materialize with a handful of squashed skittles

15. lick his hand

16. touch his hair

Having a little boy in the house may mean that more cleaning/bathing is required, but there are a lot of things I'll never need again, like a swiffer, or endust, or flypaper....

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If you like what you just read, please subscribe to this blog, recommend it, and/or pass it along to your friends.  

Land Shark

Henry is a biter. It drives me nuts. It started when he was a baby and I have no idea why. 

The first time it happened  he was around 6 months old. He wasn't crawling yet but was quite mobile and had teeth. I was standing near him and he log rolled right over and chomped down on my ankle like he was a shark going after some chum. I had no idea what to do other than pry his jaws open and remind him that people aren't food. 

Today he bit Charlotte for the first time in months. I made him apologize and get his big sis an ice pack to put on the nasty bruise he gave her. I wanted him to see how upset and hurt she was, but I was also biding my time trying to calm down so I could think of a proper way to discipline him without losing my shit. 

I asked him "do you know what it feels like to be bitten?"

He said, "no"

eureka! I had my plan!

Me: "hey henry!"  

H: "yes"

Me: "I want you to bite yourself to see what it feels like."

H: "ok... Like this?"

Me: "no, harder"

H: "Chomp... Ouch, that hurts! Whimper whimper. I need an ice pack"

No shit kid. Did you see the bruised skin and teeth marks you left behind on your sister? 

As a parent you can talk until you are blue in the face but sometimes they just don't get it until they've experienced it first hand, or tooth in this case. 

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What did you do all day?

My husband came home from work a while ago and I was giving him a recap about our day.  I was filling him in about how we had such a great day; the kids were well behaved and really helpful, and we had actually managed to be productive and get way more than usual done around the house. I was impressed enough with our progress that I was being downright cocky.

He responded in a positive way, even though I noticed him slyly looking around for all of this supposed "progress."  I know he trusted me, but when I glanced around I realized that it honestly didn't look like I had done a damn thing.

It was in that exact moment that I realized that we had a prime example of "what did you do all day?".

I'm fully aware of wondering what the hell it is that a stay at home mom does all day. I actually remember asking my mom that question more than once as a pain-in-the-ass teenager that wanted nothing to do with my assigned chores. What I have learned over the past 4.5 years is that productivity as a stay at home parent is rarely if not never represented through a visual assessment of the environment.

This list shows a few ways I measure the success of my day:
1. How much undivided attention my kids got from me
2. How silly we got, and how much laughing we did
3. How much we moved our bodies
4. How little junk we ate or tv we watched 
5. What we learned together
6. How clean we managed to get at any given point
7. How few times I yelled or otherwise lost my shit
8. How few times the kids lost control of their bodies and/or emotions
9. Any progress in the life skills dept - showing independence, communication skills, problem solving
10. How well we functioned as a team
11. How many hugs and kisses were given
12. How creative we were 

Housewives in the 1950s focused on what people would see; they were primped and put together, the kids were clean and well mannered, the house was picked up, and a nutritious meal was ready on time. That was easily measured visually by anyone.

Parents of today do things very differently. We don't kick the kids out of the house for the entire day only to round them up 30 minutes before dinner for a quick bath.  Parenting styles are changing, so why are we judging success in an antiquated way? 

Just think of it this way. If you were to walk into a 1950s house blindfolded and a modern day house blindfolded, what would you pick up on differently?  

Most of our parents turned out just fine, but that doesn't mean there isn't another way to do things.  I've chosen to focus on the things that I will cherish, and not the housework that will just be there again tomorrow.  

I've heard many Moms respond to questions about their levels of exhaustion with the phrase, "I'll sleep when I'm dead."

Well, when people want to judge me because not all of my dishes are loaded in the dishwasher, the beds aren't made, the kids faces need to be wiped, or  there are art supplies all over the table and toys all over the floor, etc.. I respond with "I'll clean when they move out."  

Get with the times folks. Get a new measurement tool and figure out how to use it.  It's not an issue of laziness, it's all about priorities, and I'm totally comfortable with where mine are at.

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Proud Mama

When my kids were small I took pride in the same accomplishments most parents do, and for good reason. When a baby learns to sit on their own, crawl, walk, or utter their first words it's a clear indication that growth and development are occurring. Our jobs as parents are to feed, protect, and nurture our children as best as we possibly can so when all of these things come together and a milestone is reached, we have a reason to be proud. 

These are some special moments from last week:

On Thursday Henry managed to complete all the steps of bathroom usage (potty, wipe, flush, wash hands, get dressed) in one event.When he came out of the bathroom and I asked him all of the questions that I usually ask to verify that he did everything necessary, he as able to answer "yes" to everything. I could see his smile getting bigger and bigger with each response.  He started beaming because he for once didn't have to say "no, I forgot."  

On Friday Charlotte accidentally used too much toilet paper and the toilet started to overflow.  She immediately came running and hollering "Mommy, Mommy, we have a flood.  Come quick!!!" She followed me and while I was turning off the water she asked "What can I do?" and I told her to grab towels.  She ran to the linen closet, grabbed an armload and was back to the bathroom so fast that she was able to soak up the water before it started going through the floor. I told her that her quick response and her helpfulness is the only reason we didn't get water damage and she responded in a perfectly Charlotte way by saying, "Oh that's a relief. We have enough projects to do around here." She doesn't sure her excitement as openly but I could see exactly how happy she was to have saved the day.

As my kids have grown I have felt pride in completely different ways and not necessarily in ways that I would have expected. There has been a slow shift from me feeling proud of myself for what I have done to contribute to their successes, to being proud for them for what they are accomplishing by themselves. I'm so glad I get to be home with them so I can witness these moments and share their pride with them everyday.

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Monsters

Henry has a new favorite book. It's called The Big Book of Big Monsters. 

I knew he was pretty hooked on it when he started running up to people he didn't even know and asking "Do you know what a Yeti is?" 

Here are a few other random interchanges that have occurred since this book entered our lives:

Me: "Henry do you want to get a frosty after we pick Charlotte up from school?"
H: "a frost giant? That's preposterous!"
Me: "no, a frosty is ice cream, not a mythical monster"
H: "oh yes! I do want one of those!"

We were at the gym and I went to childcare to pick Henry up. He didn't want to leave and one of the ladies watching him tried to help by saying, "Look how dark it is outside. It's almost bedtime." Henry looked her right in the eye and said "it's not bedtime, Skoll just swallowed the sun." 

Lady to her son: "Look Kyle, that little boy has an octopus and a pirate ship on his shirt"
Kyle giggled and showed Henry his fistful of pirate coins
Henry to lady: "It's not an octopus, it's a Kraken"
Lady: "Oh... What is that?"
Henry: "A creature of legend that attacks ships"
Kyle (pointed to his coins, the pirate ship, and then to the kraken) : "booty, shit, crack"

I apologized to Kyle's mom for Kyle's new phrase, although I probably shouldn't have joked that this may be a good reason to practice making "P" sounds.   

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Luxuries

When I had kids I knew I would be giving up many luxuries, and I thought I had a pretty good handle on what they would be.  To this day one of the liberties I miss the most is one I never even noticed I had before it was gone. It was probably one of the greatest perks to being a childless adult and I had absolutely no clue it was even something to cherish.

Oh how I long for the days when I had to leave the house for one reason or another,  and was able to just, well... LEAVE!

People always ask me what the hardest part about having 3 kids is and I say it is hands down the process of getting everyone out of the house and safely secured in the van.

This is our family's 52 step process......

1. Announce to the kids that we are leaving soon
2. Tell C to go potty and get dressed
3. Tell H to go potty
4. Change A
5. Remind C to get dressed
6. Find clothes for me
7. Find clothes for H
8. Dress A
9. Ask Henry again to go potty
10. Get myself dressed
11. Tell C to change because she didn't pick weather appropriate attire
12. Find the detangler for C's rat's nest hair
13. Brush my teeth
14. Give H his clothes
15. Chase naked H down to retrieve the detangler that he took off the counter
16. Spray Detangler in C's hair
17. Feed A
18. Brush my hair
19. Bring H's clothing to the room he's in now and remind him to get dressed
20. Brush the part's of C's hair that she missed
21. A pooped- change her again
22. threaten H with a consequence for not getting dressed
23. wait 7 minutes while H poops
24. dress H against his will
25. Load A in her infant carseat (A starts screaming)
26. Tell C and H to find shoes
27. put on my shoes
28. Tell C to change her shoes to something appropriate for the outing
29. Beg C & H to hurry because A is still screaming
30. Help H with his coat
31. Put on my coat
32. Tell C to stop trying to soothe A because she's not going to be happy until the car is moving
33. Tell C to put her coat on
34. Gather my purse and keys.
35. Grab A and start walking out
36. Tell H to walk to the van
37. Get A in the van
38. Holler at C to get out of the house
39. Ask H to get out of the mud/snow and get in the van
40. lock the house
41. Tell H to stop eating the french fry he found under the seat
42. Ask H to get in his seat
43. Remind C to buckle
44. Put H in his seat
45. Wait a solid minute while H tries to buckle himself
46. Buckle H against his will.  (H starts to cry)
47. Snap at C for messing around and not being buckled. (C starts to cry)
48. Get in the driver's seat
49. Buckle self
50. Start car
51. Turn on the radio and crank it up to drown out all 3 screaming kids
52. drive

Whoa, I'm exhausted just typing that. It's a wonder I manage to make it through that process every single day. 

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What's mine is yours

When I became pregnant with each of my kids I started living life with the understanding that what was mine was also theirs. 

From the moment they were zygotes, my kids were in control of my body. They dictated when I could sleep, what I could eat, and how I could otherwise spend my time.  It may not always be ideal but I knowingly signed up for it. 

When I became a stay at home mom I knew I would go days at a time without having the opportunity to be both awake and alone.  Yes it gets troublesome at times when you need to do something private and it's just not an option, but I take comfort in the fact that most babies and toddlers are too young to form many lifelong memories.

I also knew that it would be years before I could enjoy a meal, adult conversation, or the ability to complete any task without being interrupted a million times. Luckily I can usually talk myself down from going completely bonkers when I remind myself that it feels amazing to be needed and this phase won't last forever.

I have allowed my kids to use my toothbrush, kick me out of my own bed, sit on my lap while I'm on the toilet or at my feet while I'm in the shower and generally without complaint. I assumed there was no limit to my willingness to share everything with them. 

Tonight I told the kids to save me one snickerdoodle to eat after I finished cleaning up from dinner. There were 5 in the package when I only had one more pot to wash, so I assumed there was no risk of them disappearing. Boy was I wrong! 

I looked over at Henry munching away on what was supposed to be MY cookie and said "I thought I asked you to save one for me." He responded with, "Woops! Sorry! Here you go mom," and he extended  a half eaten, saliva soaked cookie in my direction.  I could tell by the look on his face that he never expected me to take it. 

 Most loving moms would have said, "It's ok honey, next time you'll remember right?"

Ha! Not here. This Mama snatched that cookie right out of his outstretched hand and polished it off in one gloriously satifying bite.

What's mine is yours kids, as long as you keep away from my damn snickerdoodles.


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