Too Comfortable for the Terrible Twos

Preface: This post has been completely rewritten thanks to an iPad thieving almost two year old who for some reason thinks everything mama has is his, but not vice versa. He deleted the whole post! I find that a strange coincidence as it was a post mostly dedicated to the abrupt end of his string of good behavior and the  continuance of his terrible two 'tude. 

I knew it had to end sooner or later. Caden has been too good for too many days in a row. He's been listening better, saying "please" versus screaming at the top of his lungs, going down for naps like a champ, not (always) chucking his sippy cup of milk across the table like a ninja star. I havent had anything to blog about (or maybe I've just been enjoying the bliss of a very rarely seen placid 22 month old).

For the first 24 hours of the newly emerged Caden, I held my breath and waited for my crazy tot to return to his rambunctious, mama-exhausting ways. At 48 hours, I was still waiting. After 72 straight hours of good behavior, I started to relax a little bit and began to revel in my seemingly successful taming of the not-quite-so-terrible-twos. I got too comfortable (and all the moms out there know that's never a good idea). Here's how the end of an era (or at least a few nice days) went down...

- The morning went well. No screaming. No milk-chucking. No dog torturing. No brother tackling. No climbing on too-high furniture and giving mama s heartache. No major injuries. Life was swell. 

- I took the boys on our usual run to drop Caden off at his "school" (a place where toddlers can safely be crazy with other toddlers and get as messy as they want and you don't have to clean it up). 

- School was over, so Cooper and I picked Caden up and we all had fun outside for a bit. 

- I was feeling so good about the way things were going that I let Caden help me water our new garden, and I didn't even flinch when he watered my car, the garage, the dogs, his brother, or myself instead. We were soaked but we were happy. 

- Eventually, I convinced (or maybe I dragged) a soaking wet Caden inside to eat lunch. He, as usual, grabbed 4 (out of at least 20) cars and started wheeling them all over the living room, playroom, kitchen, etc. (the kid is seriously obsessed with these things). 

Caden & his cars 

- As I was cutting up Caden's sandwich, Cooper started fussing in his exersaucer. It wasn't a "Mom, stop doing whatever the heck you're doing and feed me now" cry. It was more of a "Mama, I'm bored and I want out pretty soon" whimper. 

- I kept cutting Caden's food into little non-choke-able bites. All of the sudden, out of the corner of my eye I see Caden quickly approach his brother with a cute little smile. I pause, but I don't sprint over to intervene because lately he has been very affectionate with his little brother (I'm in the 72 hour comfortable stage, remember?)... 

- I smile back and continue the lunch preparations. Then, I hear it. It's a very quick but sharp SMACK! Cooper shrieks at the top of his lungs. 

- I lunge into action. Caden runs away toting his weapon of choice, a 1963 powder blue corvette. I see the tiny but red marks on poor Cooper's forehead and immediately sweep him up to comfort him. After a minute or two, he's back to his happy self and I place him safely in his swing and go to confront the culprit. 

- I immediately take his car out of his hand and face him forward so he's looking directly at me. Mama is mad! I don't yell, but talk very slowly and sternly while holding both of his hands down at his side. I explain that we "never ever hit under any circumstances in this house." I ask him if he understands, and guess what he does?! He hits me! 

- Oh boy! Now, I'm really mad. I take away every single car and refuse to give them back. 

- He screams, throws himself on the floor, does some impressive flutter-kicks and I just walk away. 

- I let him and myself cool off for a minute before I go back over and we have another very stern conversation. This time, he hugs me. I hug him back, but it's one of the very first times that I'm actually angry at him (maybe a little disappointed too). 

Now, I know he's not quite two and that these things happen and I realize there will be more sibling spats down the road (except next time Cooper may hit back). I also know he's a boy, and typically that means he'll be more physical in his outbursts. However, I think I felt disappointment as a mom for two reasons. Firstly, I make it a priority everyday to show Caden and Cooper oodles of affection and we all hug and kiss all the time. Secondly, instead of comforting his little brother in a moment of distress, he chose to hit him and cause him more discomfort. That is probably what bothered me most. Sure, he's just learning right and wrong, but I promise you he knew that hitting his brother was wrong (because he ran from me like a cheetah), and he did it anyway. 

The rest of the day (this was on Wednesday) and days after have been OK (no more hitting episodes). Caden has had a few other outbursts (one because I took the broom away from him and another because the dogs ate the food he handed directly to them), but we've muddled through them.  I miss our string-of-good-behavior-days, but I know this is all part of the journey of motherhood, and that there will be plenty of good and not-so-good days ahead. For now, I'll remember to breathe, but it might be awhile until I let myself get too comfortable again (a good long while). 

Cooper & Caden are ready to swim!

 

For the Good, Bad & Everything In Between...

The other day Caden and I were looking through my baby album and I was trying to explain to him (as best you can to a 22 month old with the attention span of a fly) that he was looking at photo of "mama as a baby." I am not sure he got it, but it made me realize how quickly time has passed in my life, and how quickly it will continue to pass as I watch my babies grow.

My mom laughs as she recalls that every night before going to sleep, I would have to cover up EVERY doll AND stuffed animal (and I had far too many) with a washcloth or Kleenex if I ran out of washcloths. I'd sing to them, tell them stories, and kiss them goodnight. Then, I would get ready for bed. While I giggle at the thought of this, I also give a lot of kudos to my mom and dad for surviving that routine every night... It sounds exhausting (and how much kleenex did we go through?!). 

Caden lines up his cars along the window sill in the playroom, and then tells them "bye" before running up for his bath/books/bedtime routine each night. It's fun to watch him carefully place them bumper to bumper while talking quietly to them. It also reminds me that some things in life are not only timeless, but also gender neutral, like the instinct to take care of something (for me, dolls and for Caden, cars). I hope he continues to develop that nurturing instinct as he grows and one day cares for his own family. 

Thinking of that makes me think of the many experiences in my life (so far) that I think conditioned and continue to prepare me for the tenderness and toughness that it takes to be a good mother.  There are too many to list here (and that require more detail than this tired mama has the energy to unravel), so here's the "short list":

1. Watching my mom do-it-all for my younger brother and I every day without pause and without complaint. Everything I ever needed or didn't even realize I needed she provided to me. When I graduated from high school the main office said they'd "really miss seeing me AND my mom."  I still smile thinking about how she attended EVERY concert or play I was involved in, and may also have been in the office every (other) day bringing a notebook/paper/lunch I happened to forget at home. I, too, want my children to know that they will ALWAYS have me by their side and in their cheering section (I just prayed they're a little less absent-minded).

2. Knowing what it's like to be the odd man (or woman) out.  Although, it's still painful (more than twenty years later) to take a "walk down memory lane" into my small catholic grade school years, I do it from time to time. Being the kid that was singled out, made fun of, and deliberately brought to tears is a BIG part of what makes me a stronger, more aware and more compassionate as a mother and human being. After all, I know firsthand what it's like to have your confidence ripped to shreds so that you're left standing with two things:  1) faith that GOD will help you survive the bullying, and 2) a piece of your soul that, although injured, will grow to one day become the strongest part of you, the part that drives you forward to become better, more loving, and deeply determined to succeed not in spite of what happened to you, but BECAUSE of it. I thank God all the time for every harsh word spoken to me, and for every ostracizing moment of my adolescence. Sound crazy? Not to me.  Without all of it, my eyes and my heart may not be opened as wide as they are today. 

3. Having such noble, relevant mamas to try to emulate. I've mentioned my own mother as my most influential role model, but I am also beyond grateful (and amazed) at the other mothers and women that have inspired and continue to inspire everyday by acting with such grace, integrity, and compassion under some pretty unfavorable and challenging circumstances. I won't name these women out loud (or online), but I pray they know who they are. Often, it is their perseverance that keeps me going on the days I feel like throwing up my hands. Their courage becomes mine. If they can keep at it, so can I.... so will I.

I know I wouldn't be the person or mother I am today without having experienced all the good, bad, and in between moments. I thank God for allowing me every minute of every new day (oh, and a special shout-out to my mom for being patient enough to allow me to use every washcloth you had to tuck my dolls in each night).

         

  

 [It's been a  really great week, and Caden continues to snuggle with mama (which I will never get enough of). I'd like to bottle it up, so I can spread it around during the next string of not-so-good days (and I know they're likely coming soon).]

 

 

Unexpected validation

I'll admit it, most days I lie in my big, cushiony bed (as the husband gets ready for work), and I think to myself "I don't have the energy to do this today. I'm too tired. Too worn out.  I need more sleep..." While all of those things are too true, and while I try very hard to just fall back asleep and pretend that I don't have a care in the world, I can't do it! So, I throw the covers off in one swift swoop (like when you quickly pull off a band aid so the pain doesn't last as long), I take a deep breath, say a quick prayer, and I step into the craziness that most certainly lies ahead. Isn't that what we as moms do ALL the time? We put our own feelings, physical needs, wants and needs aside, we drink an extra cup of coffee (or three), we put on our big girl pants, and we do whatever is necessary to ensure our children are healthy, happy and loved. I always appreciated how much my mom did for my brother and I, but I had no idea how hard it was to put on a brave face and a smile every single day. "Hey Mom, I get it now." 

Being a mom is tough business, and an often under appreciated one, but then there are moments like I experienced today that make it the most fulfilling job on earth (and perhaps beyond). 

The day started out like any other day, with me lamenting over getting out of my blankety nest, and Caden yelling "maaaaa-ma, maaaaa-ma" over and over and over again until I finally ask, "yes, buddy?" And he (like he does every single time) responds with a sideways grin and a quick "hi." "Hi, Caden... I love you." Then, (as he often does) he's screaming for "cookies," which he's obviously not getting for breakfast (right?!). Cooper is fussing because he's hungry (only his food comes straight from the tap, which is currently busy), and the dogs are whining because someone's got to feed them too! That's the beginning of my every day (the volume and intensity of the screaming/fussing/dog whining varies). It's very peaceful. 

So, after a big breakfast (for everyone but me) and our usual game of cars (which basically involves me on my hands and knees driving matchbox cars all over the house with a toddler), we took a break to watch a little Sesame Street. Typically, Caden stands at the coffee table (with 2 to 3 cars tucked under his arms) and teeters between casually watching the tv and jumping/crashing/diving around the living room. Today, however, he wanted to sit on my lap with his head on my shoulder, his hand in my hand and his other hand resting on top of his little brother's hand. We sat like this for almost the entire episode (yes, seriously), and I found myself basking in the immense love I had for these two imperfectly perfect little men. There is NOTHING that could have been more beautiful than those precious (and rare) moments. My eyes involuntarily welled up as I looked down at both sets of tiny fingers, and this time I couldn't blame it on pregnancy hormones (or at least I hope not!), I was just overwhelmed with joy, unbridled, unequivocal joy. As expected, the stillness of those few moments was over before I could enjoy it much longer. Caden then tried to hug Cooper by climbing completely on top of him like a human blanket. Cooper didn't appreciate that at all, and responded with some shrill shrieking, but I was lucky to catch this shot first.

My awesome-day-to-be-a-mama didn't end there (believe it or not). Caden continued to pause (whatever activity he was doing throughout the day) just long enough to hug me and his little brother, so deliberately and lovingly. Then, when it was time to head upstairs for the dreaded "n" word (N-A-P), he actually walked right up and into his room, over to his crib and asked for me to put him in it. He then told me "Bye, Mama," gave me another hug and a kiss, grabbed his blankie and laid down. I closed his door and there was no screaming, just beautiful, but surprising silence. 

As I tiptoed back downstairs, I could not stop smiling. I was so proud of my little boy for being so loving and so good, and I felt beyond grateful for the opportunity to experience life (in all its glory and fury) with my two sons. Tomorrow may (and likely will) be a total crapshoot and hell may break loose, but I'm going to try my very best to savor the memory of this special day for as long as I can (even as Caden throws his turkey, fruit, cheese and whatever else I so nicely prepared for him off his tray fastball-pitch style). 

I really needed today, because every mom needs to feel validated every once in awhile, and there's no better validation than the unprompted and repeated affection from your child. I'll be tired tomorrow, and I'll lay under the covers as long as possible (or until Phil tells me I HAVE to get up), but this time I'll be completely hungover with love.

Soaking it up

It's been a little while since my last post (I know, I know you've been stalking my page just waiting for this update, right?). Things have been hectic in a (mostly) good way, as we prepared for sweet Cooper's baptism last Sunday. Fortunately, (since my last post) the week took a more positive turn, and our "series of unfortunate event" dissipated (and my mom I are are back to being best buds, thank goodness!). Don't get me wrong, we still experienced our share of skinned knees (Caden's), bruises (mine), smelly toots (Cooper's and Phil's) and some nap battling (among other protests), but things returned to our unique shade of normal. 

You know that expression that basically states that one day you'll all of the sudden realize that you've officially become your mother. Well, believe me, I never thought that statement to be true until my Dad said to me this past weekend, "Katie, you really ARE turning into your Mom" (as I'm hovered under the kitchen table with the dust buster after the baptism). What?! Doesn't everyone vacuum up crumbs the moment they make contact with the floor? As soon as he said it, I had to laugh, because it was oh-so-true! No matter where we lived and how much we had going on, my mom always made sure that everything was in its place and looked pristine. As she will admit, this was sometimes to a fault, because it caused her to go,go,go without pausing to really appreciate the mess for what it truly represented, a family that was having a lot of fun playing together! In fact, she reminds me all the time now to slow down and not worry about "making everything perfect." Most of the time, I listen (just not when hosting a party). I get down on the floor to play "cars" with Caden and build a giant train track with lots of twists and turns (and bridges too)! I snuggle sweet Cooper, knowing he'll be bigger (and more mobile) far too soon.  I know life moves too fast. Even so, sometimes, I find myself with a DustBuster under the kitchen table. It's OK though, because along with everything having a place, my mom also taught me how to make sure every special milestone in our lives was celebrated and full of love. So, Dad, if you're reading this... I'll take your comment as a big compliment. I guess I am turning into Mom.

Cooper behaved like a little gentleman during his baptism ceremony and smiled through all of the rituals. We were and are so proud. It's important for our children to begin their journeys in faith early. Although, there were and are still times in my life that I don't make it to mass every Sunday, I never ever doubt God's presence in my life and place in my heart. I want that for my children too.  Caden was a pistol (or maybe more like a cannon) as usual. Thank goodness for Jenny (my future sister in law) who chased him around in the back of the church like a zookeeper trying to tame a lion cub! My little brother and one of our dearest friends (who is truly the sister I always wanted and the aunt Caden and Cooper need) served as Cooper's godparents (as they also do for Caden).  The same priest that baptized Caden also welcomed Cooper into the Church. We prepared way too much food (as usual) and drank too much wine (ask anyone, I'm a lightweight), and  we celebrated the beginning of what I pray is a very strong and deep faith-filled journey for our son. It was a sacred day, and one that I know we'll always treasure as a family. 

Isn't it funny how life works? It's usually a "series of unfortunate events" that open your eyes a little wider to the joy that surrounds you. It's typically the dark days that allow you to bask a little longer in the bright ones.  

I'm soaking it all up, God. I promise.

A Series of Unfortunate Events...

Did I say I would update this thing "every other day?" What-I-really-meant-was-whenever-I-have-time-or-energy. It's been a rough few days. Nothing particularly earth shattering has occurred, rather just a series of unfortunate events that have left me feeling less than inspired. I know that you're allowed to have "one of those days" but what about one of those weeks?!  

Here's the short list of "joys" we've experienced this week:

1. Caden has this new game where he likes to sprinkle milk (completely on purpose) from his sippy cup  all over the floor/couch/baby brother/dogs/table. I say "NOOOOO!" He giggles and then bites the lid entirely off and dumps the milk on whatever surface he chooses. Fun, fun, fun times I tell you... (By the way, have you ever smelled sour milk? Imagine smelling that every time you turn the page of a book because your toddler decided to bathe every page in milk!!!)

2. It's been raining a lot. I know it's good for the plants (and our new sod), and just like anyone I love a good thunderstorm, but enough is enough! It's depressing and it ruins my running plans.

3. Poor baby Cooper was (uncharacteristically) miserable for almost a fully 24-hours before the reason for his misery was discovered by my Mom. A strand of my hair was tangled and wrapped very tightly around his left index finger, strangling it and cutting off all circulation. It's called a hair tourniquet, and apparently it's more common than I ever would've guessed! We went to the pediatrician's office to ensure there was no more hair and no damage, and all is well! Read more here: http://www.babymed.com/blogs/jaclyn-stewart/when-check-your-baby-hair-tourniquet

Look at poor Cooper's finger! 

4. I got in a stupid fight/argument with my Mom. I was frustrated (and sleep deprived), but I know that's no excuse. We both said things we didn't mean. We both got way too upset, and nothing positive came from it. My mom is my best friend, so whenever we argue, it really gets me down and I'm always sorry it ever happened.

5. I'm just lacking any energy/motivation/inspiration this week. For those of you who think I have this constant flow of energy and enthusiasm, I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but I'm just like any other mama trying to keep herself afloat in the midst of a whole lot of craziness (and spills, and snot, and scrapes, and some spit-up too). I'm a hamster in an ever-turning wheel (except maybe in my case it's more like the spin cycle of my washing machine). 

I'm sorry, folks. It seems I'm lacking in gusto and cheer, but I want to always "tell it like it is"... to keep it real. So. If you're looking for that "double rainbow" at the end of this post, you won't find it. Period. (See what I did there?!) 

Wait!! There is one lovely thing to share! Cooper and I enjoying our new porch swing (a gift from my it's for Mother's Day)! 

Taking my chances...

This post is dedicated to all the moms out there who, like me, may have a hard time knowing what the "right" choices are for their children in the tumultuous world we live in today. 

Sometimes, I buy non-organic milk at the grocery store and let my children (I'm taking my chances).

Once in a while, my kid wants a cookie before dinner and I allow it (I'm taking my chances).

At times,, I let my kids finger paint my kitchen cabinets (I'm taking my chances).

Once in a while, I let my child learn something the hard way (I'm taking my chances).

Sometimes, I give too much praise over small victories (I'm taking my chances).

Every so often, I spoil my children (I'm taking my chances).

Sometimes, I turn the television on and let my toddler watch it (I'm taking my chances).

Every week, my children and I visit public places unarmed (I'm taking my chances).

Every night, my baby boy sleeps nestled next to me in my bed  (I'm taking my chances).

Every day, I give too many hugs, cuddles and kisses (I'm taking my chances).

Every moment, I fill our lives by taking chances (and I'm OK with that). 

Moms, please remember that something will happen everyday that will make you cringe, or cause you great fear and anxiety. Take it in stride. Don't stand still. Too often, someone will judge you for the choices you make, or don't make. Turn the other cheek and move on. Keep going, and have faith in yourself. When you lay down at night, you will doubt yourself for something you did that day. Don't. You're doing the best you can, and that is exactly what you should be doing. Remember this, no matter what, you are everything to your child (children) and they are everything to you. Love is enough. You are enough. 

[My mama and I, circa 1982] 

Making strides... one baby step at a time

Well, folks I don't know exactly how it happened or why it happened (although I'd love to think it was my doing entirely), but after 3-straight-days, the napping strike ended in our household. Caden (and mama) are in a much happier (and more rested) state of mind, and the husband is no longer scared to come home. It's a good thing too, because I was starting to become pretty desperate (e.g. "what would be so wrong with giving him a shot of Benadryl?!")  and things were looking bleak. I'm glad I didn't get any random solicitors or toll-free calls over the last several days, because had you rung my doorbell while the babes were "trying" to nap, I might've had to call the cops on myself (no joke)! 

So, this is how it went down... After much Internet-researching and other-mama-consulting, I was determined to win the napping war by the fourth day. I was not about to wave the white flag (Caden gets his stubbornness honestly). I made a plan... Invite "Crazy Uncle Steven" (my still rambunctious younger brother), go to the park (and strongly encourage rampant running around and screaming), eat a healthy lunch (cookies don't count), then take some quiet time to wind down, read, get comfortable, and hopefully begin our nap!! 

Well, Steven definitely wore Caden out (he was already yawning at the park), so when it came to "quiet time," Caden and I sat down to read his favorite book about cars (what else?!), and we talked about how "everyone takes naps... Mama naps, Da-da naps, your doggies nap... Even Elmo and Cookie Monster take naps. Naps help us get strong so we can play more when we wake up..." I promised him a snack and a trip outside again to play, gave him his favorite car to sleep with (the kid is obsessed) and off he went to dreamland... I stood at the bottom of the stairs for at least five minutes holding my breath and waiting for the screams, but they never came!! My brother was still there (drinking my chocolate milk... Jerk!), so we visited and chatted about his upcoming nuptials (of course being a guy he had no answers to my questions), and Caden never made a peep! After Steven left, admittedly, I jumped up and down (but ever-so-gently as to not wake the monster). It's been two days and I think we just might be back-on-track (can I get a "whoomp whoomp?!")

Don't send congratulatory flowers or cards just yet though, because another thing we're working with  Caden on right now is setting boundaries and learning limits... and that's not going so well. I did another sweep of the inter-webs re: "how to discipline a toddler," and I came across some good (and really awful) ideas. Here's one of the good ones I found:  http://www.askdrsears.com/topics/discipline-behavior/8-tools-toddler-discipline. To summarize, the good doctor basically advises parents to pick your battles, set clear boundaries and limits, make sure your toddler understands when and why they've done something wrong, and also remember to praise them when they react the next time by doing the right thing. Sounds reasonable, right?! I thought so... Well, I followed all of your tips Dr. Sears, and guess what?! They're not working on my kid!!

Case Study A: 

Caden throws his sippy cup of milk and it splatters EVERYWHERE (keep in mind this is the third time this same incident has occurred in a span of less than 2 hours). I (inhale, exhale) sternly say, "NO, Caden! We do not throw our drinks. No more milk for Caden now..." I do exactly as Dr. Sears advises, and I look him directly in the eye while saying this. He stares right back at me with his big brown eyes, turns the right corner of his lip up into a patronizing smirk, giggles, and says "oh mama," while patting me on the top of my head. (Seriously?! Where did this kid come from?!) I'm not sure what he meant by "oh mama," but I can assure you it didn't mean he was going to stop throwing the blasted sippy cup (so, I filled it up with water instead). It's times like this that I wonder who's really in charge... Me or my 22-month-old hooligan?!

On the brighter side, we are also working on teaching good manners, and I'm pleased to see and hear Caden saying "peeeeaaaaassss" when asking for his "wa-wa" (in addition to other objects of his desire). He's also beginning to respond with "tanks" (thanks), and learning to wait his turn to play with a toy, go down the slide, be patient while waiting in line, etc. He's learning to be "gentle" and kind to his younger brother, and to the other kids he plays with during the week. Having and practicing good manners is one of those "non-negotiables" for me as a parent and a role model. All too often (sadly), I see a young, careless kid (iPad in tow) run in front of an older lady or mom with her hands full, letting the door slam in her face without a second thought (usually, their parents are too distracted to even notice, or they let the door slam first). This same kid is the one who demands things without asking, expects new stuff without appreciating what he/she already has, and may one day grow up to be the "mean girl" or guy in my (and your) child's classroom. I know that I can't control what those kids do (although believe me, I'd love to tell them and their parents what I think), but I most certainly CAN and WILL influence and guide what my children do and how they behave - with dignity and respect. So, we're starting early in our house and we've got a lot of work left to do... but whenI hear that tiny voice ask, "peeeeeeassss?," my soul feels a little more at ease, and my hope is restored for all the great things that lie ahead. Sure, we may go through another napping strike next week (say it ain't so!) and we will definitely continue to butt heads on many things as Caden (and one day, Cooper) learn limits, but it's nice to know that we're still making strides in the right direction... One little baby step at a time.

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The Tale of the No-Napper

Remember that saying, "there's no rest for the wicked?" Well, I'm fairly convinced I must've done something "wicked" because lately I'm getting zero rest/alone time/try-not-to-go-insane time. Why?! Oh, because my not quite two year old all of the sudden is refusing to take naps and has vehemently protested bedtime for two days straight!!! I'm about to lose my mind (or the little that's left of it)!

Typically, Caden goes down for a nap for about an hour and a half in the early to late afternoon (varies a little depending on the day), and I treasure this time to do any of the following:
1. Spend one on one time with baby Cooper snuggling on the couch, or playing on the floor, chatting, etc.
2. Clean up around the house (or clear the path of destruction Caden has left behind)
3. Take a shower (a very rare luxury these days)
4. Eat something (other than a protein bar)
5. Take a nap, too (this hardly ever ever happens, but it's nice to know I could ... One day)

Nap-time is one of the very few moments I have to breathe during the day, and to worry about one kid versus two (a vacation for sure). When I'm not afforded that opportunity, I'm not a happy camper (just ask the husband).

Over the last two (excruciatingly long) days, I've literally examined everything that's occurred (and I mean everything). Short of him not wearing socks to bed one night, and brushing his teeth with the green toothbrush vs. the blue one, nothing has changed from his normal nap and bedtime routine. I took his temperature (a cool 98 degrees), examined his entire body for unforeseen "boo-boos" or rashes... Nothing. Nothing!! I asked him what was wrong, and he responded with, "cars" followed by "bus" followed by "da-da" topped off with "cars" again. Thanks, kid... Big help, buddy. Thanks for that.

Basically, I have no freaking clue what the deal is! I actually found myself promising him "cookies before dinner" if he napped (although I think I would have given him cookies FOR dinner if he actually slept at all).

Although Caden is pretty rambunctious most of the time, he has been a great sleeper ever since I begrudgingly agreed to allow him to sleep in his crib when he was around 8.5 months (mama had a little separation anxiety, I admit). He typically goes down fast and hard (even our 2 very hyper dogs barking at every dog they see on TV) doesn't wake him. For that reason, I never really thought I'd be dealing with a "no-napper" anytime soon. Every (stupid) parent book or article I read (all lies) said "kids typically don't begin to give up napping until around the age of three or four." Really?! Really?! Well, how about telling that to my 22 month old?! He's the delightful tow-headed monster screaming at the top of his lungs while jumping up and down in his crib.

I'm praying that this is just a phase (a very, very short one), and that tomorrow I am greeted by my nap-loving, bedtime friendly little boy again (and if that happens, I'll give him cookies as promised). "Are you listening "Nap Fairy? This is a very tired, frustrated mama begging you to come back from your vacation and resume your day-to-day sleep-inducing responsibilities. I'm not above bribing you if needed, too (do you like cookies?)..."

Seriously, there better be some sleeping going on tomorrow, or things are about to get real (real zombie-like that is).

Have any of you other mamas out there been through a nap strike with your toddler? What are some tried and true ways you got them back on track? Help wanted!


The photo for today is what happened when my "no-napper" attempted to eat his dinner. FAIL.

Mothering is never guilt-free!

So, I'm going to accept that this blog is going to be updated every other day (during a good week), and I'm not going to feel guilty about that (even though a daily blog was my original goal). Speaking of guilt, if there's one thing I would REALLY like to rid my psyche of, it's the dreaded "mom guilt." Why do we as moms have that horrible nagging, poking, unshakable "symptom," and more importantly, is there a cure?!

Before having Caden, I'd feel the occasional pang of guilt in my stomach for telling a white lie, playing "hooky" from school (ok, work too), eating too many sweets (damn you skinny-cows!), and a handful of other pre-mom misdemeanors. The guilt was sparse and typically quieted by a long conversation with my mom (during which I covered every unnecessary detail about WHY I felt guilty). I, for the most part, enjoyed a guilt-free lifestyle. Then, I had my first child, and now I'm fairly certain the knots in my stomach are permanent (Pepcid just doesn't work)!

While I was working full-time (it's starting to seem like ages ago), I felt tremendously guilty for sending Caden to daycare everyday (even though we chose the best place we could find with the highest possible ratings). I would wake him up, give him a million kisses, sing to him, feed him breakfast, give him a million more kisses, then "da-da" would do the drop-off (because my heart and conscience couldn't take it). While at work, there were moments, hours and sometimes entire days that I felt like crap, because my cute, loving baby was in daycare and I was assuredly missing some incredible "first" moment (even if it was his first nose-picking) while typing the latest update to my work project. I knew plenty of seemingly satisfied, happy, dynamic working mothers who had equally happy, well-balanced, loving children, BUT I still felt so incredibly guilty that I wasn't the one caring for my child. When Caden would get sick and the administrator of his daycare would call me, I'd immediately feel like an awful parent (and person) for not noticing that he was getting coming down with something (or did I notice and ignore it?) How did I miss the signs? (Did he feel neglected now?) Did the doctor think I was a terrible parent too? The guilt was overwhelming. In fact, it was all-consuming at times. I (naively) thought that once I started staying at home with the boys that the "mom guilt" would calm the heck down. Boy, was I wrong! It may actually have gotten worse.

Recently, Caden fell in between a bench and a wall (don't ask how) at a "kid-proof" (but not "my" kid proof) play cafe, and he acquired his first fat, ugly, bloody lip (see previous post). The worst part? I was right there (literally holding on to him) when he took the nasty spill. Talk about feeling like a failure! I scooped him up like a mama hen and he buried his tiny, bloody face in my jacket, but not before looking at me with those big brown eyes that clearly asked, "mama why'd you let me fall?" The guilt froze my entire body in that moment.

On a daily basis, I have to unapologetically drop cooper into his swing seat, as I chase after Caden at top speed. Sometimes, the poor baby is enjoying a calm, angelic sleep on mama's chest and "BAM," he's jolted wide awake in an instant, as his crazy mom runs in the other direction screaming "NO, CADEN, NO!" I feel guilty for that. I'm sorry, mostly, that sweet Cooper has fewer moments to himself with me than Caden did, because he was first. I feel awful that every time I go to the toy store etc., it's usually to buy Caden a new outfit (as he's outgrown all the others), or to add to his ever-growing car collection. Cooper sits happily in his hand-me-down onesies with the occasional new rattle, and he never seems to care. I know, I know... He won't remember any of this, but I do and I will, and I feel GUILTY. Every time he cries and I can't get to him because I'm "trying" to prevent Caden from imminent injury (usually injuring myself in the process), I feel that nagging, never satiated, always churning, ugly "mom-guilt."

[As an aside: why do husbands/da-da's never seem to feel this guilt? Seriously! I ask Phil at least once a day if he ever feels guilty for this, that or the other thing, and the answer is always "Uh, no. Why?" "Why?????" I furiously ask (sometimes out loud, sometimes to myself), "How about because I am carrying around enough guilt for a family of twenty, and I'd like to share the wealth (or the curse)!!!" So, now I'm left wondering is it genetically programmed in us, as women, to feel guilty as soon as we give birth to/foster/adopt a child? If so, thanks God! I appreciate the gift that keeps on giving! To all the husbands and dads out there, here's some advice: pretend that you feel guilty every once in awhile. It'll do you and your relationship some good.]

I also know that my mom, at an age undisclosed, still feels guilty too. It never stops... So, I suppose this is just another badge that we get to wear as mothers until we pass on to the afterlife (which, I'm hoping it ends there, because I want to be leaping upon the clouds guilt-free).

Most of the time, the "mom-guilt" is more of a curse than a blessing, but it does one very positive thing. It keeps us striving to be our best for our kiddos... our imperfect best.

Everyday we act as protectors, nurturers, nurses, cooks, teachers, counselors, enforcers, entertainers, and so much more. Everyday we feel like we're not quite good enough at any of those jobs. Yet, just as I finish typing this post, Cooper is napping on my chest and Caden just looked up at me (before throwing a plastic bowl of apple-jacks at the wall) and said "my mama" in the sweetest way. For a brief moment, all is right in the world, and I feel nothing but absolute love and gratitude (even for the dreaded "mom-guilt"). For a moment, I feel guilt-free...

In his "little" shoes...

Today was one of those days that I not-so-secretly wanted to be over almost as soon as it started. It wasn't that something particularly bad happened to make me feel that way. It was just that I woke up (actually, I tried hiding under the covers first), and I just didn't feel like I had enough energy or patience to "put on a happy face" and "carpe diem." (But I did, because that's what moms do... Right?!)

As I tried to boost my own morale (while wiping up the 'crud' Caden left for me from breakfast), I remembered something we were probably all taught as wee children. Our parents/teachers/adults would tell us to "put yourself in his/her shoes" when attempting to understand someone. So, in my attempt to understand my little wild man (the one we call Caden), I tried to put myself in his little-but-very-fast shoes.

Here are the "Top Five" things he likes to do on a frequent basis and my attempt to rationalize them.

1. Saying "no" to every.single.thing. and then getting extremely irritated at me when I don't understand that "no" sometimes means "yes!" ------ Mama's take: I am guessing he hears me tell him "no," the dogs "no," the husband "no," the birds trying to build a nest above our back door for the 10000th time "no," so he wants to try it out for himself, too. "Nooooooooo!!" (Cute, and annoying at the same time!)
2. Feeding the dogs his food and then getting absolutely irate at the dogs for eating his food ---- Mama's take: This one cracks me up. It's like he thinks it's funny they eat his favorite snack and then he suddenly remembers he actually wanted to eat it and wants to karate chop them. Guess it's time to teach him the "don't be an Indian giver" rule.
3. Putting his hands in his "poopy" diaper when I try to change it (yes, it's totally gross) ------ Mama's take: I don't freaking know! Who does that?! Seriously?! Is this a little boy thing?? I can handle the peeing-on-everything, but NOT playing with poop!!! This HAS to be a boy thing, right?!?
4. Wanting to wash his hands all day long... (Of course, after #3 I guess that's a good thing!) ----- Mama's take: I don't think (at least I hope) he's not OCD, but I know he loves playing with "wa wa." So, it's not that he really wants to wash his hands all the time, it's that he wants to find any excuse to get wet and squirt water all over the place. (Oh, to be so easily amused!)
5. Random screaming fits for no-apparent-reason-whatsoever ----- Mama's take: I know this is a common toddler quirk, but I have to think it has something to do with all the different and new sensory, emotional, physical and social experiences this little human being is exposed to in a day. Sometimes, it's just too much to process and the result is an eardrum-bleeding screech (by the way, it should also be acceptable for moms up do that, too).

So, there you have it ... After putting myself in Caden's shoes I still feel completely exhausted, a little numb and pretty amused. Actually, I do feel better, because I am pretty positive that my tenacious tot is just as tired as his mama! After all, waking up to a virtually new world everyday and trying to learn how to navigate through it all is a pretty ambitious and exhausting job! I, for one, am glad I can't remember that crazy stage of my life (and they say the teenage years are wild?!?! Hmmphh!)

In other news, tomorrow is Friday, which means the husband is home, which means I just might survive (maybe).