A Busy Big Baby

They say good parenting is all about staying one step ahead of your kids.  I feel that I've done a pretty good job with the first child. 

However, I feel like I'm running to catch up to Child #2!

Check out the wake of Hurricane Joe.

While I was helping Clara get her sandals on her feet, Joey managed to throw his swimsuit, shorts, and a diaper pin into the basil plant.  When we took them out, he insisted on putting them back in.  I appreciate that you want to put things away, but the basil pot is just not the best spot for them!

On an upside, I haven't had to fish leaves and sticks out of his mouth for a few days now.  Unfortunately, he has developed an appetite for concrete. 

He keeps me on my toes, this one!

Problem Solved!

Joey is a biter. 

And last Sunday, after I had been bitten 5 times--including once on each shoulder--I had had it with him.  He was crabby and cranky and fussy and just not at all pleasant to be around.  Now, we're all allowed be cranky from time to time, and babies more so than the average person.  But this had been going on for too long, building up for weeks really.  At night, in the back of my head, I admitted to myself, "I'm not sure I even like him anymore."

WOAH!  How horrible did I feel then that I could even consider that I didn't like my own son?  It was pretty awful.

So on Monday morning, when crabbiness ensued once more and I tried everything I could think of, I finally just set him in his bed and let him wail his little head off.  After a half-hour or so, he mercifully fell asleep--for TWO HOURS!

That's when I dawned on me--I have not been real consistent about making sure that he gets a good nap or two in a day.  For the longest time, he was the most easy-going kid and would let me forget that he needed to nap.  And so I forgot.  And Ugly Baby took over his personality.  Now I can see that was clearly my fault, not his.

So all this last week, I've been making sure that he got his nap.  Sometimes he falls asleep when I nurse him.  Sometimes he doesn't, so I let him cry a little.  Regardless, he now naps like a champ--no more of this 20 minutes and I'm awake nonsense.  Two solid hours.  He's a totally different kid.

I haven't been bit since last Sunday.

He smiles again.

And so do I.   

****************************************************************************

This is all rather ironic, as I was hyper-vigilant to make sure that Clara got her naps as a baby.  OK, I still make sure she lays down for an hour a day.  When other people's children would get fussy, I'd often grumble to myself, "put that kid to bed!"

Yet I couldn't see it in my own kid.


Oh, that humble pie . . . it's actually tasting good this time around.  

Because I've Got to Do Something With These Videos . . .

On a lighter note, here are our recent videos!  One, of Joey being Joey and flinging a plastic duck around.  The other, Clara shows off on her tricycle.

Enjoy!

One of My Most Despised Phrases

So that last rant of mine stemmed from this phrase that's been at the tip of my tongue ever since Joey started showing his true colors. 

"He's all boy!" 

How I hate, hate, hate that phrase!  Yet I've nearly said it on countless occasions recently.  Aargh.

Yes, he's action-packed and busy and into things (or, better put, things go into him, as he puts EVERYTHING he can get his hands on in his mouth).  But what kind of stereotype does that place on him?  Would he then feel that because he's a boy, he's not supposed to have his quiet, reflective days?  And what does that very loaded phrase mean for naturally quiet and reflective boys?  That they're somehow less of a boy just because they prefer to sit back and take things in?  That's a lot of pressure to put on a kid who's not even a year old!

I've known my share of quiet boys and I've known quite a few rambunctious girls.  Both types of kids are perfect representatives of their gender.  We, as the adults in their lives who are blessed (or burdened) with the gift of passing on our cultural inheritance have got to watch the flip remarks we make about our kids.  They listen.

I can gaurantee that a flip comment of "you're all boy!" is a much more loaded statement to the child that heard it than it was to the adult that issued it.

I just hope that we make it equally obvious to our young listeners that it's also a good thing for boys to be quiet and reflective, or even--gasp!--cry, and that girls can be perfectly girly when they're running around like Wild Things.

And man, oh, man, I'm afraid that is a challenge sometimes.  

Liberated Boys

"Mama, these barrettes are for babies.  So we should give them to Joey!"  suggested Clara, oh-so-helpfully the other day. 

Squashing her helpfulness, I responded, "Nope, Joey's a boy.  He doesn't wear barrettes." 

Man, oh, man--not even 10 months old and I'm limiting him.  I hate saying stuff like that.  But, what else should I do? 

I didn't have this issue with Clara, because in the cultures that we live in, girls are pretty well liberated.  It's OK and even encouraged for her to wear shorts and pants.  Keep in mind, 100 years ago, that would not have been acceptable to society at large.

Just like "Joey's barrettes" are not at all acceptable in today's society, in general.

Even more telling, Clara's favorite book right now is He Bear and She Bear, by Stan and Jan Berenstain.  It's a great book that celebrates the fact that boys and girls (men and women) can do any kind of job, showing female bears driving bulldozers and male bears knitting socks.  (They also show male bears working construction and female bears sewing dresses.)  As a kid I loved that book and I'm so glad that Clara is getting attached to it. 

But no matter how much I believe the message in that book, I won't be putting barrettes in my son's hair. 

Now, if it were Joe asking me to put the barrettes in his hair, that's a different story.  I'd let him, at least while we're in the house.  Dressing up is an important part of a child's development, and I won't limit that in any way (at least while we're in our own house).  As another example, when I worked with two-year-olds at a daycare center, I took care of one little boy, who was small for his age, but nevertheless walked around like a linebacker.  He kind of acted like a linebacker, too (if linebackers have a certain way of acting).  But man-oh-man did that kid LOVE the high heels in our dress-up chest.  He'd strut around all afternoon in those high heels, looking so proud of himself.  I thought he was the most adorable guy ever and made the mistake of telling his father about the shoe obsession.  Dad freaked out.

This boy's dad failed to think about all the important things his son was learning while wearing those heels.  First, and I think the driving factor for this boy wearing the heels is simply the fact that they're fun.  Keep in mind that two-year-olds have just mastered the act of walking.  High heels take that achievement and kick it up a notch.  And this little guy got to be an inch taller--awesome!  Furthermore, little kids trying on "typical" clothing from the opposite gender is learning that, although I may wear heels and a dress like Mom, I'm still me, and a boy (if the child in question is a boy).  The feathers do not change the gender.  That's a pretty big lesson for little people to get.  So thank goodness lots of little kids are permitted to test these theories with the clothes found in dress-up trunks and discover for themselves that, "yep, I'm still me, even if I'm wearing a dress (or a tie)".

I'm glad that most of my gender-limitation angst is limited to clothing (and hair accessories).  Boys, who grow into men, are generally able to pursue and hobby and career that piques their interest.  And I rejoice that we live in this century and this area of the world, so my daughter also has very few limitations placed on her.

But at this point in his development, I feel that it's my son who has more cultural limitations placed on him, thanks to his gender. 

How weird is that?

Furthermore, what do we do about it?


    

Joe--He's a Beast!

I keep thinking about all kinds of things I need to remember to write down about Joe. 

So here goes:                            [hehe . . . that's why we named him that!]

• He is now a master of the pincer grasp (using his thumb and forefinger together).  Two weeks ago, I experimented by giving him some small pieces of bread on top of the tray of his highchair.  We've had LOTS of bread on the floor over the last two weeks.  But within the last few days, he's getting about a 90% success rate.  And it's rather breathtaking to see how fast he can go through whatever it is I give him on his tray.  This morning, I thought he was into waffles because, well--who isn't into waffles?  But for dinner he inhaled both his bread AND chayote (a type of squash), so it's not just the sweet stuff.  This kid is an eater!  

• Two days ago he added consonants to his vocabulary.  On Tuesday we were eating dinner and I distinctly heard something that I hear all too often from the other child.  I looked at Mario and asked, "Did he just say 'mama'?"  Mario agreed.  However, it was not in relation to me (or anything else, apparently).  And I haven't heard it since.  However, I have heard quite a bit of da, dai, and ya.  It's a nice change. He's got the cutest, little, scratchy voice.  (And, dear heavens, do I LOVE scratchy voices!  (Anyone else know Toni from NPH?  I could happily listen to that girl talk to me for days on end with her glorious scratchy voice . . . *sigh!*))

• He sprouted a third tooth! 

• When he's interested in an object he goes for it!  This might not be startling news for anyone else who's been around babies much, but it's taking me aback a bit.  (When Clara was a baby, if something was out of her reach, she normally decided that she didn't have much of an interest in it anyway.)  However, Joe is really good at rolling over and squirming around in order to get to what he wants.  When I need to work in the kitchen, I sit him in front of the shelves and plop some toys in his lap.  Invariably, he turns himself around so he playing with the box to the crock pot.  It gets to be a bit tiring to hold him in my lap, as he is so wiggly.  And holding him in my lap at the table--forget it!  Everything is fair game and winds up on the floor.  I'm so glad Clara has finally decided that she is a big girl now and she doesn't mind at all that Joey gets the high chair now.  Because he's enough of a handful that she no longer gets a choice of where she'll sit.  

• Because he's so squirmy when he's "sitting" on my lap, I've tried standing him up on his feet.  He enjoys that and his legs to bear a bit of weight!  There is hope that this kid will walk sometime before he's 18 months old!  Of course, there's also the fear that he could walk sometime around a year . . . nah, he's still our lazy-walking genes.  ;)

Candy Land Lessons

I may have mentioned earlier that CandyLand (or, as Clara refers to it, "Candy Castle") is the current obsession in our house. We pack in a few games a day.

As my competitor is a three-year-old, it's interesting the quirks and life lessons I've picked up by playing with her.

#1) Since she is still way to young for the competitive stage that crops up around 7 (depending on the kid), the game is all about the journey. The object is simply to play the game. The act of playing is enjoyment in itself. When one of us wins, whether it's me or her, the winner is gleefully announced, "You're at the Candy Castle!" Which is immediately followed by, "let's start again!"

It doesn't matter who wins.

What a precious time in her development! Furthermore, I love that she's been the one who was able to re-teach me that.

#2) For those who have become unfamiliar with CandyLand, the point is to take your player down the rainbow-colored road of sweets on the way to the Candy Castle. On the way you pass Cupcake Commons, Ice Cream Slopes, a Gingerbread House, the Popscicle Palace and the Chocolate Mountain (in that order). So when Mario or I draw the Cupcake card, which forces us to return to almost the beginning, we groan a bit. Clara, however, will draw the cupcake card and shouts, "Oh boy! I got the cupcake!!" She is equally excited for all the various candy destinations on the board, even the Licorice Lagoons, which force her to lose a turn. No matter. She's on the candy square and that's pretty cool.

While drawing these special cards is the highlight of any round of CandyLand for her, she is happy to share the joy. Whenever I get a candy card (even if it's the Chocolate one, which puts me almost at the end) she always puts her seal of approval on the turn saying, "I like it when you get the Chocolate."

I've been known to be a little too competitive when playing games, and her graciousness has reminded me why we play games in the first place.

And when she tells me that she likes it when I get the cupcake, it's not because that card sent me back to the beginning. It's because she thinks it's a pretty great spot to be. She'd like to be there. (No matter that it means starting over.) But if she can't be there, she's genuinely happy I'm there.

It's a little overwhelming to be so gently schooled by the three-year-old.