Raising the mini-goddess

So here’s the news about the youngest whippersnapper in our lives. Katie is pretty much like she always is: A new word every day or two, happy, and energetic. She has developed an attachment to her blankie in the past couple of weeks. She’s never been a “lovey” kid. She just never had that special stuffed animal, toy, or other “transitional object” (as the books call them). But now her blankie is her best friend. The pink one with the satin on one side and the fuzzy stuff on the other side. We’re very lucky with her because, other than a few little dust-ups, we haven’t seen much of the terrible twos yet. She definitely is feisty and tries the boundaries but she seems to adapt pretty quickly when she figures out that the parents are wise to the latest trick she has for getting her way. She tries it for awhile – fussing, temper, whining, whatever – and gives up pretty quickly when it doesn’t work. One of the things I like best about our day is any time we get to talk. Yes, that’s right, I have conversations with a two year old. I often need my toddler decoder ring to figure out what she’s saying, but she has a lot to tell me and is always very intent about getting her message across. She’s also pretty patient as I figure out what she’s saying. My favorite phrases are: nack (snack), gink (drink), tank you mommy, wub you mommy, and booze cooz (Blue’s Clues). She says “tank you” without being prompted so I guess the 10,000 times we said, “And what do you say?” have finally paid off! Her daycare is pretty good with reinforcing the pleases and thank yous, too. Another favorite is one that took me awhile to figure out. It sounds like she’s saying, “kiss ass” but what she’s actually saying is, “close eyes.” She likes to have me pretend to be asleep, thus the “kiss ass” directive. She makes me lay down and turn over on my stomach (“tun ober mommy”). She covers me with her blankie and says, “kiss ass.” Then she pats/pounds my back saying, “night night mommy” over and over. Then, after a minute or two, it’s “my tun mommy!” And we reverse the process, although it’s not as cute since I can say my Rs and am not two. This night-night game is apparently a big hit at school as all her little friends take turns playing it with each other.

Of course, a big issue in our house right now is potty training. We’ve got the Pull-Ups, the potty chair, the whole deal. She goes in the potty occasionally (“I pee pee in the potty!!!” is a frequent announcement when I pick her up from daycare) and is getting better at going more consistently. Our hope is that she’s pretty well trained by the end of the summer but that may be a bit ambitious. Ethan taught us that what more experienced parents say is true: They do it on their own timelines and you can’t force it. But we certainly encourage it!

She’s always been a pretty easy baby. Even in the womb, she didn’t keep me awake at night moving around like other women report their babies do. She had a definite schedule of movement and it always concluded by about 10.30. She stayed pretty still throughout the night. I was awake anyway most of the time (I pee pee in the potty! Over and over again!) but not because of Katie moving. She was a challenge early on because of severe reflux. I had always heard of projectile vomiting but had never seen it until Katie. I’m talking the real thing – no kidding, Linda Blair-style emanations -- several times a day. It tends to be a bit difficult to get used to but the various cleaning companies – clothing, carpets, furniture – enjoyed it. But even when she had pain from her reflux, she’s always been pretty chipper and easy to please. I can definitely see diva potential, though, just like with all kids, and so we’re working on making sure any demanding or unnecessary fussing is not successful in getting her what she wants. Truth be told, I like her feistiness because I love women who are strong and independent, but Jerome is not so fond of the quality in a child. I agree that there's a time and a place for it, but my perspective is that those hairy-legged boys are going to come sniffing around one day and a young woman needs to be comfortable with saying (and meaning) no, or she’ll not be able to handle herself very well and find herself in some places she regrets. Compliance makes our lives as parents easier but overly-compliant children make me a little nervous. Leadership ability later on in life depends on being able to think for yourself and I want to foster that quality now, and not try to instill it later on. There’s a fine line between feisty and bratty, though, so we make sure we don’t let this go too far and that we keep the balance between speaking her mind and respecting us as parents. I think I’ve convinced J that raising a future goddess means tolerating a little feistiness here and there. :-)

I think my favorite thing Katie does is dancing. Ethan danced some when he was little but Katie pops up and shakes a tailfeather whenever music comes on. She shakes her bottom, hops around, and moves her arms with abandon, all with a very intent and happy look on her face. I took a lot of dance growing up so I hope she enjoys this later on. We applaud loudly and sometimes dance around with her (“Dance, mommy!”)

Needless to say, they both bring us a lot of joy and I feel very lucky.

The life and times of Ethan

OK, here it is, time to update this blog if it’s ever going to grow up to be successful. So, I have to ask, what is this going to be?

Well, my purpose of starting this was pretty simple. I wanted one place I could point people who I re-connected with who wanted to know what I’ve been up to. That’s done. Next need is a way to update friends and family about the exploits of the kids as well as Jerome and I. I also have some random thoughts that I’d like to discuss sometimes. I am lucky to have fabulous friends and family and I value their insights but don’t often have a time to really think about and say some of the stuff that knocks around my brain on the rare occasion when I’ve actually gotten some sleep and the caffeine is working and it’s quiet enough to think. Plus, I really enjoy writing and the only way to get better at it is to actually do it. So, here we go.

I guess the first place to start is the Katie and Ethan update. I feel like I wax poetic every time I start talking about motherhood, but I can’t help it. I’m one of those people who is extremely happy being a parent, but I'm trying hard to not become one of those obnoxious, bragging parents. Anway, it’s a very difficult job and you don’t really know you’re succeeding at it until a fair amount of time has passed. The final exam in this class is not really for 20 or 25 years or so, until they become free-standing adults who are at least productive and, hopefully, are productive in a way that helps someone or otherwise makes existence a little better somehow, somewhere. But so far I love the process. Check back with me when they’re teens but so far, so good.

But I digress. Katie and Ethan. Well, let’s start with Ethan. He’s very smart and also empathetic, which I find wonderful. He’s the most effortlesly mannerly child I think I’ve ever seen. This boy is all about the “pleases” and “thank yous.” He reads very well, can do math (in kindergarten!) and seems generally academically inclined. He doesn’t seem inclined to sports or related activity, although he does take karate. He’s stuck with that the longest – tee ball and soccer were early interests that were taken up and abandoned – but he doesn’t really seem to enjoy it. He may just not be a sports kid. I don’t think his mom was and I know his dad wasn’t so maybe it’s genetic. He may be more of a bookworm or artistic but that’s all the more reason to encourage the physical stuff. That’s the great thing about being six. The world is still ahead of you, just waiting to be discovered and you can try everything your parents have the money and patience to support. A debate we have is how much to make him do regarding his activity. We want to teach him persistence and also that practice is the only way to get better at something. But, we don’t want to force him to do something that’s supposed to be enjoyable. Right now that’s karate. He loved it at first but now doesn’t want to go to practice and had a mini-meltdown before a recent belt test. So how long do we make him go and when is the point where we allow him to quit? I’d love to hear your insights, dear readers.

Ethan is a wonderful big brother to Katie. He has every reason to not get along with her. She’s the child of his dad and his step-mom, so she could easily be seen as competition for his dad’s love and maybe even the personification of the fear that all children of divorce have, that their parent will stop loving them the way their parents stopped loving each other. Add to that all the normal sibling rivalry stuff and you have an equation that adds up to potential loathing or at least eye-rolling toleration. But he seems to love her very much and she returns the feeling. He plays with her and she revels in his attention. She imitates him and just squeals with pleasure at the simplest games he devises. Of course, he loves being in charge of their play, in typical older sibling style. He’s also fairly patient with her and enjoys helping us with her. He’ll do almost anything to make her laugh, including antics that make me fear for his safety and that of the breakable items in the house. A recently purchased exercise ball is fodder for much hilarity between the two and much concern that our houseplants and knick knacks will not survive the year. I love to watch them together and I really hope they maintain that closeness as they grow up.

Ethan entered a “big question” period awhile back, where he seemed preoccupied with God. Can God lift a house? Where does God live? Today he asked Jerome if he had God’s phone number. And so on. I’m not sure we gave him the answers he was looking for – other than the whole God lifting the house thing, which was pretty easy – but we tried. It made for interesting dinner conversation. He asked me out of the blue one day how babies got out of their mommies. It was in the midst of setting the table for dinner and all the attendant “dinner, bath, stories, bedtime” craziness was ramping up. So, I took a deep breath, paused, and said (nonchalantly, I hope), “Um, mommies have a special place that expands when the baby is ready to come out and that’s how they get out.” I held my breath and waited for the inevitable follow-up: So where is this special place? What’s it called and how does it expand? And hey, how’d the baby get in there in the first place? I had a flash image of Ethan going to school the next day and announcing, a la Kindergarten Cop, that, “Boys have penises and girls have vaginas.” (C’mon, you know you want to say it in your best Ahnold voice…it’s not a tumor!). But since he just said OK and continued setting the table, I either hit the mark of taking his question seriously without giving too much information, or I completely flummoxed him.

This thing is getting pretty long so more about Katie in a later post.