Tales from the Toddler Side

So I've been mulling over Ivy's transition from pahlah at bedtime to no pahlah at bedtime.

Oh, sorry.  Pahlah = pacifier in Ivy-ese.

It was around this time that Leif was transitioned from his pacifier, so on a whim, Wednesday night when Ivy asked for her pahlah, I said, "No more pahlah.  You're a big girl."  Of course, since I am a horrible mother, this induced a rather large, hearty cry from Ivy.  So I picked her up and held her while she cried, but I do try to be firm (pause here for possible ironic foreshadowing, please), which is most of the time rather easy with Ivy, because she's a practical girl at heart.  

Ivy's actually pretty amazing.  I mean, they all are, but we're talking about Ivy now.  Her practicality wars against her extremely determined sense of independence and knowing what she wants.  It's actually made her, so far, into a wonderfully challenging person to deal with, but fun and reasonable to work with at the same time.  

I see that I'm explaining myself with my usual muddy clarity.  You're welcome.

For example, she'll cry when not getting her way or getting into trouble, and then mid-cry, I'll ask her if she's done, and she'll stop and say, "Yes."  Then she'll get up to, most of the time, hug me, and say, "Sorry, Mommy," (if she's not decided to hold a grudge that time and therefore seek out Nana to tell her how cruel her mommy has been), and all is well.

So she has her cry out over her pahlah and her lost childhood and so forth, and then stops, gets down from my lap, lays on her pillow, and decides she wants her bear, who is normally bear non grata at bedtime since Ivy likes her space. (Isn't my Latin impressive?  Don't gush.  It's embarrassing.)  But then she gets up and decides she needs to go potty, which is what she usually does over and over each night until she gets too sleepy.

The problem this night is she doesn't gets sleepy.  The pahlah is apparently toddler-grade Ambien.  I mean, she's Ivy, so she's completely game to give up the pahlah to be a big girl now, but now she can't sleep.  She can't even get sleepy.  I figured she naps without it, so that wouldn't be an issue.  But I was wrong.  Very wrong.

Frustration met hilarity that evening.  Ivy's a good sport, and I'm feeling gracious and good-sporty, too, since I knew it would be a tough transition, and I feel for her.  Nana offers to rock her to sleep, which she agrees to for about half a minute.  But she's wired for sound without her pahlah, so then she's ready to visit me in my room.  She wants to lay in my bed.  I'm cool with that.  I figure it will last about a minute since she really, really does like her space, unlike Lily, who always opts to sleep with me if she can.  

Ivy likes her own bed.  

But we're in pahlah-free wonderland now, and everything is on its head.  She's up, she's down, she's bouncing round.  Now, two things that tend to work individually around here are, one, lying down with a spastic child so they can calm down, or, two, watching late TV a little (rare thing in these parts) to focus the kid, keep them still, so their sleepy brains take over their bodies.  So I decided to employ both, and since Ivy's such a good sleeper, we'll hang out, enjoy each other's company, and she'll eventually go to sleep, right?  RIGHT???

HAHAHAHAHA

I'm laying on the bed next to her, and for a little bit we're watching The Sorcerer's Apprentice, because how could an action movie not do the trick?  I'm saavy that way.  But of course, Ivy lays down, she's up, she's gotta go potty, she's down, she's sitting on my belly bouncing and laughing hysterically, then she's smooshing her face onto my face saying, "I want to look at your EYE!"  What are you doing, Ivy?  "Looking at your FACE!"  Ivy, you can't see my face like that.  "YES, I CAN!  I want to go potty."

By this time, we're both laughing hysterically.  Good for a school/daycare night.

We're doing this till about 11 o'clock, by which time she's flopped down again and said for the 50th time that she has to go potty, to which I reply, "Fine.  Go.  I'm going to sleep."  

But then I turn to her, look her in the eye and say, "Ivy, do you want your pahlah?"  

To which she replies, "I want to get in my bed."  

"Okay, we'll try again in a month or two," I say as I tuck her in to her bed.  She's asleep in about a minute.

Did I lose this battle in the parenting war of attrition?  Not really.  Ivy was a completely good sport and wasn't trying to get her way.  She just didn't know what to do with herself, and I get that.  If my kids are throwing fits or crying, I do stand firm.  I tell them they can never get what they want by whining.  Never.  So if they're going to change my mind, they'll have to do it another way..

Which brings me to this thought:  

I mean, I always have known that Ivy is very clever.  But is it possible that she's really criminal mastermind?   An strategic genius perhaps?  

I'm beginning to think it's possible.

Time for Doing Things

I always overbook my week.  I think the reason might be that I like to have lots of to-dos to choose from.  I'm able to weigh priorities along with just doing whatever suits my fancy that day/evening.  And after years of trying different planners and lists, I've finally found a personal to-do system that works!  Huzzah!

This one actually works a little more like my brain works, and it's snappy, too.  And I can just take goals down as they're completed and replace them with new ones.  I got the idea from Rachel at Cornflower Blue Studio.  I had a few different ideas for the little decoration in the header, but her idea was so simple and pretty, I just had to use it.  I figure I may eventually need a few variations of these lists hanging up as life continues to vary.    You can get instructions to make your own version of Rachel's DIY Rotating Goal List here.

I was using bigger sticky notes, but they were some odd brand that didn't stay put.  So I decided to use the little Post-It ones until grocery day when I could pick up some proper large ones.  But now I think I like these better.  You can fit more in, and therefore they cater to my delusions of free time.

I plan to invest a lot of time in making things this week, so what to do when the munchkins are around?  Why, have them make things, too, of course.  They love it.  Then they love playing with the things they make.  So I decided maybe it would be more fun to have it tie into what my mom and I are working on, too.  So the kids made clothes for paper dolls.  They had so much fun, and it's fun to see how they interpret these things with loose guidelines.  I pretty much just gave them the supplies and gave them the okay to have at it.

The Supplies:  

First I cut out four naked little people and drew on faces.  I made their faces resemble the kids because they really like their own stuff.  My kids don't really look like these dolls, though; that would be weird.  But it was easy to make them recognizable, though, since I have four kids with very different hair.  I so love my kids' differences -- personality-wise and every other way.  Then my mom cut out little bits of fabric so the kids could collage them however they wanted onto their dolls.

The Process:

Next I threw a blanket on the floor so that it would be protected from stray bits of glue stick and fabric.  It's so cool that they're all old enough to do a lot of the same things now.  Some said I was crazy for having these guys so close together (I believe the polite way of alluding to this is, "Boy, you sure have your hands full."  If I had a quarter for every time I heard that one, uh.... I'd have a heck of a lot of quarters.)  But it's so cool that they like to play together.  Who's laughing now?  Huh?  Huh?  

It's possible I'm paranoid as well as delusional.  Please don't lock me up just yet.

The Results:

I love how Leif picked the the more manly fabrics, and actually those are bits of the shirts that are being made for him presently.  And I love that his is wearing a tie.  Rose's is wearing the most lovely maxi dress.  Lily and Ivy made sure to glue bits of fabric to the back of them, too, which of course is so practical.  Who wears clothes just on their front?  Nobody I want to hang out with; that's for sure.

Cheerful

Reasons for me to be cheerful this lovely Florida winter afternoon:

1.  I just had a lovely lunch of egg sandwich on and everything bagel with cheese and Tabasco.  I love Tabasco.  I put Tabasco on eggs, on my cheeseburger, on my Tabasco.  It's delicious and spicy.  And now my dream is that someone from the Tabasco corporation will see this post somehow and send me some.

Thanks in advance, Tabasco person.

2.  I looked up my credit score the other day.  It's wayyyy better than I thought it was, which after the troublesomeness (Yeah, it's a word... that I made up) of the past few years, was a bit of a happy surprise.  I now have new found motivation to save for a house for me and the crew.

Splendid!

3.  The twins wanted two kisses apiece this morning when I left them at daycare.  Lovely toddler kisses.  And it was an added bonus that neither of them stuck a tongue out at the last minute.  They do that sometimes.

4.  I'm back home!

5.  I have found that my oldest daughter is crafty.  Not sneaky; I mean she loves crafts.  She's actually the opposite of sneaky.  She's terrible at hiding things.  She's very upfront and honest and loud, and I like these things about her.  But she also loves making things and drawing, and as an art history major and crafter myself, this pleases me greatly.  Now we have something to bond over.

6.  My feet are chilly.  While that may not cause immediate cheerfulness, I am cheerfully looking forward to putting on my warm, soft, cozy socks.

7.  My son loves hanging out with me.  He's three, and it probably won't last long.  I'm loving it while it lasts.

8.  My friends and family make me laugh... intentionally.

9.  I got a gift card to Old Navy, and I used it.  I have a package coming with clothes for me!  Not the kids, me.  Me, me, me, me, me.  I was told I wasn't supposed to spend it on the kids this time.

Ouch.  Don't twist my arm.

10.  God loves me.  And while that should always be enough, sometimes I forget.

But I'm remembering now.  (Insert smile here.)

Leif

 

Dear Leif,

You, my only son, completely crack me up.  And it's never, ever on purpose.  Your gentle sincerity morphs into rambunctious hilarity, and adds fullness and variety to our would-be girly lives.  You are my little man with big man potential.  You make me nervous of how to do right by you in raising you.  But I know you will be destined for something wonderful, and I hope never to get in your way.  I want so much for you and from you as you become a man, but that's mercifully somewhat far off.  So for now, I just enjoy your growly laughter, your wanting to be close, and, most of all, your always-surprising and always-cherished trust in me.  I love you, Bud.

Love,

Your mom.