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Archives for April 2010

Cotton Balls, Mop Buckets and Other Scary Things

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Nora has a book called Where is the Green Sheep.  In it, we are introduced to many types of sheep: red sheep, blue sheep, sheep in a bed, sheep in a bath.  A near sheep and a far sheep.  A scared sheep and a brave sheep.  I tell Nora she is the brave sheep. 

Nora likes a bit of danger — jumping off of high places into her daddy’s arms and going down the slide on her stomach. But she wasn’t always so brave.  Little more than a year ago, her biggest fears were everyday objects. 

I remember reading an article about cheap ways to entertain your kids.   The writer said the best present her daughter ever got was a box full of cotton balls.  Sounded good to me.  One night, to stave off boredom, I pulled a bag of cotton balls from the closet and presented them for Nora’s entertainment.  She shrieked in terror. 

When she was about eighteen months old, she got a feather boa for Christmas.  It was six months of gentle exposure therapy before she would willingly touch it. 

And then there was the big, bad mop bucket at daycare.  Her teacher was carrying her through the hallway and bent over near the mop bucket to retrieve something.  Nora got so scared, she crawled up the teacher’s body and clung to her head for safety.

While I’m relieved she has outgrown the fear of common household objects, it’d be nice if she was a bit more tentative when it comes to things like perching atop a beach ball that is precariously nestled on a mound of blankets on our bed.  Alas, she has no fear of the hardwood floor beneath her.

Parental Anxiety

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While filling out the enrollment paperwork for Nora to attend school in the fall, I came across a form that released the school to take her on field trips.  My heart skipped a beat.  For a moment, I was back in the anxiety that gripped me as a new parent.  Someone is going to take my child out in public with a gaggle of other kids and return her safely?  Gulp.

I was absolutely blindsided by the anxiety that took hold when Nora came home from the hospital.  I was terrified to take her in the car.  I was scared I was going to drop her.  I was paranoid about stranger abduction. 

I would imagine a dangerous scenario and then dream up a way to save her from it.  If someone broke in the house right now, where’s the nearest object that could be used as a bludgeon?  If she starts choking on that, I’ll flip her upside down to dislodge it from her windpipe.  If the plane crash lands, I’ll unbuckle myself, then release her bottom harness, then the top, then head to the nearest exit, which is exactly three rows behind us. 

It was kind of scary.  And exhausting.

I’ve asked around and this seems to be par for the parenting course, to a greater or lesser degree.  What could make more sense than your brain demanding that you prepare yourself to protect your young?  Sometimes I worry about not worrying as much anymore.  Should I really be letting my guard down? 

There’s a clear line to walk here, on one side, you have no idea what to do should an emergency arise.  On the other side, you are an overprotective freak who keeps your child home while her classmates go on field trips.  The balance for me is to keep first aid instructions posted on the fridge, sign the school field trip release form, but then volunteer to come along.  And always know the location of the nearest exit.

Kid Logic

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For your listening pleasure, I bring you one of my all time favorite episodes of This American Life, “Kid Logic“.  Summarized by the TAL website as, “stories of kids using perfectly logical arguments, and arriving at perfectly wrong conclusions.” 

So good.

Attachment

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If my daughter were my boyfriend, I would have taken out a restraining order long ago. 

“Your honor,” I would say, “He wants me to do everything for him, I end up with a fat lip or a black eye every few months.   He never wants me to have any alone time.  He’s so bossy and controlling; he won’t even let me go to the bathroom by myself.”  Signed, sealed, delivered.  Don’t come within 1000 feet.

Behavior that would be universally intolerable in an adult is just right for a toddler.  Though sometimes it can feel like too much (particularly when I want to get something done at an adult pace), I know we’ve done something right when Nora can’t get enough of me.  And yes, for the time being, it’s me she wants most.  (I am looking forward to the “Daddy’s girl” phase, so I can take a shower with the door closed.)

To a large degree, we followed the tenets of attachment parenting.  We were into baby wearing, co-sleeping and breastfeeding.  We use positive discipline techniques, we respond to tantrums as compassionately as possible.  Nora knows she is safe with us and that we respect her as an individual.  I love parenting like this.  I am linked to Nora in a way I’ve never been linked to anyone before and I am proud that our parenting approach is designed to do right by her.

This morning, we were in the “family friendly” check-out line at the grocery store.  There was a woman ahead of us with two kids, one little girl a bit older than Nora and a little boy about seven months old.  She was burnt.  She face was without affect.  The only words she spoke to her kids were commands, sit down, stand-up, walk on your own.  All three were miserable. 

In contrast, our family was happy and relaxed.  Nora had memorized part of the grocery list and was sitting in the cart, making sure we remembered everything.  She asked to put her nail polish on the conveyor belt, and I explained that we needed to wait until there was more room in front of us, so she could reach.  She nodded and waited patiently.  When all of the items were unloaded, I plucked her out of the cart and snuggled her while Ben paid the bill.  I gave her the option of walking or being carried to the car, she chose to be carried.  We passed aisles and aisles of tempting goods on the way to the car, she begged for nothing.

I’m not trying to brag about our mad parenting skills, I’m trying to demonstrate the difference in attitude between the Ben and I and the mother in front of us.  Granted, she could just be having a bad day, we’re all entitled to those.    But the message those children were getting was that they were a burden to be dealt with, not people to be respected.  Right now, there are thousands upon thousands of children getting that same message.  My heart breaks, and I reach for my girl.

Meal Planning

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I just planned my meals for the week and made a grocery list.  Ride my coattails.

  • Club Sandwiches, Steak Fries and Boddington’s Ale
  • Country Fried Steak and Eggs
  • Tuna Wraps with Lime and Cilantro
  • Chicken Caesar Salad
  • Chicken Enchiladas
  • Breakfast Burritos
  • Meatloaf and Broccoli with Herb Butter