PPC day?: Distractions

This feels like a very apt title for a post about how I have been moving at Truman's pace in order to help him over come some of his fears about change.

He has a really hard time with transitions. I think this behavior has intensified since Keen was born, probably because the birth of his sibling incited whatever part of him is fundamentally resistant to change.

He loves his brother and does not take any of this out on him, which is wonderful, but he has had a really hard time going places, leaving places, getting dressed, getting undressed, etc.

Moving at kid pace, then turning off the TV for good during the daytime has meant a lot of distractions for me.

Things I used to be able to do rushing Truman along or relying on the TV to entertain him for a while I now have to do with interruptions. I used to think this was a terrible thing and that I needed the concentration to be able to complete a task, but you know, when I stopped making excuses and actually tried to do things interrupted without letting my mind panic about it I found it wasn't so bad.

In time I have gotten used to it.

So I have been distracted, continually, from every task I have been doing.

I have also been distracted from this blog. While I have continued taking pictures of the kids almost every day I have a hard time getting them online. I sit down at the computer and find myself letting my mind wander into my own self motivated distractions on Facebook, reading articles, etc.

Following Truman's distractions has been satisfying. When I really take the time to have no schedule and pause when he wants to it is amazing what we find to do. Nurturing this is helping him with other transitions (Saturday we went to church for what ended up being 3 hours, out to eat, grocery shopping and to another store and Truman was content, helpful, non-combative. He never once had a tantrum, even peeing while out.)

If I look at the clock I am always amazed at how long it takes to do something, but when I stop watching the clock I am always in awe of how much can be done in that time.

These years are few. I see that now that I see Keen growing and think about how it wasn't that long ago that Truman was that small and it won't be that long before Keen is as big as Truman and Truman is even older.

I have to embrace this time now in order to quell the fears every mother has that their children will grow up and leave them, never returning. There is nothing that can come of embracing that fear except keeping mindful of the present and appreciating every moment I have with them while they are my babies.

PPC: Revelation!

This week has been my first real week with the two kids by myself.

I had part of a few weeks before but there was always a visitor, a day off work, or something to help me.

It's been fun to be able to get everything back in order the way it runs when it is just the kids and I, but also a challenge to do everything.

Mostly to do things for everyone at the same time.

But I have figured that out by being stronger about prioritizing my time.

The real mystery has been the dreaded late afternoon when my sleepiness combine with my non-napping 3 year-old's sleepiness to create two demanding people who end up yelling at each other.

Okay, some combination of whining and yelling.

After such an incident Monday I resolved on Tuesday and Wednesday to not yell at my child.

That was my utmost goal.

And I failed each day.

Today I realized that this occurs at the same time of day when I am starting to check out a bit because I am tired.

So, I realized:

Instead of checking out if I reinvest I can avoid the spiral into a puddle of mutual frustration.

Today at 3:30 when Truman became almost impossible to please just as I was thinking of taking a break I reinvested. I took a minute to think of something for him to do that would be new, exciting, refreshing.

In this case it was a movie my mom had brought for him when she came that I had hidden away. I pulled it out.

He is watching it, I am resting, whining is at an all time low and yelling non-existent.

We did it.

I don't think it's possible or healthy for me to try to never yell at my son again. It will happen. But I will keep analyzing situations to meet our needs better so we can live peacefully in this family.

When it is warm we will spend these moments outdoors but for now we have gotten over the rainy day hump.

And look, the sun is out. Spring are you there?

PPC day ninety three: Truman's Zen garden

It's easy for me to write off my child as wild and give up on trying to take him outdoors.

Last Friday we went out around 2 and did not make it back until 6:30. That story is for another post, but was fresh in my mind when Truman asked to go play in his sandbox today.

We don't have a fence so this leaves him open to the world, which in that other post I am going to write is a great thing even if it means more work or worry for me.

But I am learning not to worry.

The thing about my willful child is if I chase him he will run.

This is either because he thinks I am playing a game or because I am putting out the expectation that I think he will run. I am not extending trust and he won't exert the energy it takes to return that trust by staying in a safe radius of where we are.

Today I sat still while he ran and asked him not to go too far.

And he didn't.

While he was playing in the sand I had several more revelations about his behaviors. When I watch him playing calmly — which is to say in control of his behavior, not so much that he is quiet or still, but isn't frantic — I realize that getting him to a place where he is willing to cooperate means guarding him from the activities that lead him to be out of control.

Lots of young children need protection from dangers — from climbing too high, using sharp objects, from the cold, or stairs, or hot things — my eldest son is not like this.

He has a good sense of natural consequences but no innate desire to follow rules. He is fiercely independent and self sufficient.

When he was born I was expecting a baby. I was expecting someone to protect, to guide, to journey with. I am doing these things with him, but it has taken me this long to really see what it is he needs protecting from.

I think it is with simple activities — with slopes of sand, splashes of water and thoughtful building with blocks — that this child finds peace within himself.

And so his sandbox is his little Zen garden.

And it is when he is in these places that I become aware and find my own understandings about who he is and what he needs. It is in these moments that we communicate quietly and without words what we need and find a common ground on which to stand.

I think, too, that having a baby that is what I expected a baby to be, needing protection from the cold, loud, crazy world, I realize that Truman isn't just sloughing off these feelings. He doesn't have them.

Unplugging for peace

The title makes it sound like I am about to start a long journey of getting people to turn off the lights to save the world and create peace.

Maybe someday ... ;)

For now it's just for me and I am not talking about lights.

I am talking about this blinking box.

In the weeks leading up to the birth of Keen and in the second week after he was born I spent a lot of time on this thing. I was trying to rest by sitting in a big recliner snuggling my baby and I was using the computer to keep me company.

But then I realized I needed to create more rhythm and actually stick to it.

So I got off the computer and got into being with my boys.

And you know what? It's blissful.

Now when I check my email or facebook I find I am overloaded with the amount of info I have to catch up on and I will have to find a way to manage that.

But for now the most important thing is these little guys and keeping the peace within us all and collectively as a family.

I made a huge list of all the things I think we each need and how we can get these and you know how people say if you write down your goals you will achieve them?

Well, it is working.

My mother in law helped me finish cleaning the basement and I am about to have a home simplified to only the toys we really want that we can actually keep clean.

The flip side of this is that I probably won't be spending as much time keeping up with people or blogging; I will still be doing the project and will update whenever the time I have to do so meets the desire I have to do so.

I also want to get back to my roots. I am trying to take a picture of my boys every day and there is no better place to put them then right here.

PPC day eighty: sometimes they know better

This morning Truman wanted pizza so I thought of a plan to take a tortilla, cheese, carrots he could chop himself and some chicken, stick it in the oven and: pizza.

This made me realize that in all the time I wasn't cooking in the last six or more weeks I didn't notice that Truman really likes to cook.

So what used to be taking time from him, making a mess, cleaning a mess, finding something else for him to do -- often making a mess in the kitchen -- has become a win-win.

So I planned to make these pizzas open face because that is what a pizza is, but Truman wanted a tortilla on top, then while I wasn't looking, another tortilla on top.

If I was looking I would have told him that he didn't need three tortillas in his pizza. That is a lot of tortilla.

But while they were cooking I got distracted and burned them. Well, guess whose pizza turned out great?

The one with the safety tortilla.

I just pealed the burned tortilla off and there it was a perfectly good quesdadi ... I mean ... pizza.

He knows best sometimes. I need to remember that when I am looking and in situations that involve things more important than pizza.

And the rest of our lives is deciding when to trust him and when to trust me.

Wish us luck.

PPC day seventy nine: I made dinner

That, my friends, is a huge task.

I usually end up waiting until 4 or 5, then am forced into some kind of boring or non-ideal dinner, which for the end of pregnancy meant Joe would be greeted by a very round, hungry lady and a stir-crazy 2-year old zooming toward bed time.

Then I would request to go out because, frankly, the idea of cooking was exhausting. Or we would eat something prepared simply. Nothing exciting to the soul.

I am lucky enough to be part of a community that sent me food after Keen was born and oh were the home cooked meals delicious.

Thank you Nikki, Sally, Meredith, Jen, Vanessa (who was compelled to make "Keenwa" (quinoa) salad), Amy (who had a baby just 10 days before Keen was born) and Katrina (who was kind enough to bring them right to me).

Yesterday I started thinking about all the things I want to do and got pretty overwhelmed. I made a list of needs each of us has and a loose outline for each day.

Then thought, "I can't do all this, ahhh."

But after sleeping I felt there was only one way to find out.

So I tried.

And here I am about to feast on the fruits of my labor.

And it was something Truman and I could do together. He likes to chop and stir.

Instead of feeling the need to escape the house at the end of this day, I feel excitement to sit down with my family (of 4!) and eat a meal we made in peace with love.

And some yelling. I am not going to lie; there was definitely peace and love, but also yelling.

PPC day sixty four: delayed gratificatiion

Keen is fussy at night. At least for now there is about a two hour period each night in which he initiates nursing but will not latch and if he gets frustrated enough kicks, screams, wiggles.

The first night of this I felt lost. Truman needed me all the time but I could fix everything with milk. Keen needs more than that. He needs me to help protect him from getting frustrated.

So last night I did. For two hours or more we switched position every time he got frustrated and it helped.

I was waiting to eat a small piece of chocolate until he fell asleep and while this may have added to my frustration my snack of water and chocolate in being delayed seemed to amplify the pride and love I felt when he was asleep there in my arms, lulled by diligence, presence, patients and love.

PPC day sixty: the nest

Sometimes I realize that just because my priorities align with the adult world of how things should be done or what they are fore doesn't mean Truman has ideas that are any less valid or important.

This helps me create peace b looking at the effect of choices as they affect the whole family not just one member.

What am I really talking about?

Our second night with Keen Truman I got up to potty and gave Truman the task of holding the boppy.

When I returned he had claimed it as his nest and had no intention of giving it back ever.

Thinking its use value was so much more important to me than to him I took it back.

Screaming. Tears. Negotiations.

I finally just asked Joe to take him downstairs because Keen was waking up. Then as they headed downstairs I changed.

I grew suddenly and beautifully as a mother of two.

I realized that my need for the boppy in the short period of time Truman would be awake paled in comparison for his huge desire for it and the over arching need for peace as a family.

They came back up; I gave it to him; and know what happened?

Truman gave it back.

It seemed he had grow in the same way. We grew together as a family.

Then we built him a nest where he slept.

PPC day forty five: Respecting fixations

There isn't an adult I know that doesn't have at least one fixation. Something they are obsessed with or hate. It's a normal part of personhood to have likes and dislikes and things we just have to do a certain way.

I am obsessed with packing. I love getting everything together just right, deciding where things should go and knowing that everything is where it is supposed to be. I don't like wasted space.

Does this drive my husband nuts? Uh, yeah.

But he lets me pack.

He has his own strange things and I have learned in five years of marriage to respect those.

So why is it so hard to accept the fixations of toddlers?

It's so easy to dismiss what they want to do because it doesn't seem important to us.

But that doesn't make it any less important to them.

We've been lazy about bedtime recently. Sleep is about to change and motivation to get everything in order is waning. Joe has been sick and we are all just focused on sleeping as much as we can when we can.

It's working well.

But this led to Truman wanting to sleep on the couch last night. He happily snuggled in and let us turn out the light.

At some point he started crying and Joe went downstairs to see what was wrong. Apparently he had been trying to find a certain Word World and couldn't find it.

In a tired haze he came to bed and slept. He cried several times in the night. I was not my best at these moments and told him everything was fine then shushed him.

I will have to work on that.

Anyway, in the morning he was still obsessed with the Word World. The problem? We had all the Word Worlds, yet he still thought something was missing.

He was crying a bit and very upset and we kept asking him what he wanted. He kept answering the same way: "I want one."

After asking him which one and giving him suggestions, asking for different words, etc., nothing had changed.

I knew what was going on here. His mind gets stuck in a feedback loop. He was frustrated about last night and not seeing that the situation had changed. He just remembered how he felt then and couldn't get past those feelings enough to decide what to do next.

In the past I have just left him there to calm down until he can tell me what he wants. After all, I don't have all day to sit and listen to him repeat the same phrase that I can't understand as both of us get more upset ... uh ... right?

Well, once I started looking at this as a fixation he just couldn't get passed I realized what he needed was to be guided. I hugged him and talked about last night and then showed him that all the Word Worlds were there. He thought and looked and then smiled and grabbed the one he wanted.

PPC day thirty six: Rules

In the last several weeks Truman has been very receptive to following rules if we explain why he needs to follow them. This is huge because previously he couldn't accept arbitrary rules.

Natural consequences are easy for him to understand. He ate hot food once as a baby and to this day won't touch food that is more than lukewarm. He knows to stay a safe distance from fires and not to jump from too high from instinct.

But, "you need to stay with me in a store," or "you need to sit in a restaurant?" Not so much.

Why? There is no motivation. He doesn't want to do those things and every part of his body is screaming to do other things. To climb, to look, to touch, to learn.

And following a rule requires quieting internal desires for external reasons. It is really quite sophisticated work.

I've been using a lot of communication to give him reasons to want to do those things. At first a lot of those reasons were what I call bribes. Now, I am not saying it's wrong to offer rewards or remind a child that it is only after work that we can play, it's just that to me, semantically, these are all bribes.

So at first as we approached a situation in which I knew it was difficult for him to follow rules, I would talk about it heading in. This usually involves stores. We would run over what we needed to do and how I expected him to act.

Then I would usually offer a bribe. But bribing my son doesn't work well because he assumes the bribe will happen no matter what. I have tried being tough on the follow through, but it's just not worth it. I would rather go without the bribe.

So I cut out the bribes and it worked well, depending on the day. If he was in a place where he wanted to follow rules he was happy, if not, well ...

Then I discovered the power of positive communication of telling him how I knew he was capable of acting instead of how I wanted him to act.

Game changer.

He is so much more receptive now than he was before. I also added in why and that was really what has made the biggest difference.

We now talk a lot about how when he stays with me in a store it is helpful to me and when he runs away I get frustrated or scared. And he gets that. He is sympathetic to me and wants to help.

Instead of making these rules about control and what I expect him to do I've reshaped them to be about relating to one another. They are about what he can do and how he can help, which motivates him.

Rules become more about the relationship we have as a family and how we can treat each other with respect than anything arbitrary.

The obnoxious onlooker in my mind is telling me I am one of those parents that is a softie. I will be pushed around and he won't have structure. But that isn't what this is about. Nothing about explaining a rule in a way that makes it about respect is soft. There will rules in his life, but each one should have an explanation.

That's not soft, it's peaceful.

PPC day thirty five: We parent differently but united

I think it's weird that there are certain statements Truman accepts from my mouth but argues with Joe about. It works the other way, too.

He doesn't accept physical restraint from me because he knows I can't follow through. He knows he can get away from me, so taking a minute in public doesn't work. It's all kicking and screaming and escaping.

But daddy can take him to the bathroom, talk with him for a few moments and he's fine.

I am lucky to spend so much time with my son. I know him on an intimate intuitive level, so when he's tired and can't communicate what he needs, I know what it is. I can respond appropriately to weird sounds or looks.

But daddy has a harder time because he's not a mind reader (and no one expects him to be).

Today we went out to brunch and Truman did not want to sit and eat. He hasn't been very hungry lately and so sitting while not eating was even less appealing. But daddy took him to a quiet place, talked with him, and they returned. He sat calmly for quite sometime.

When he came back he told me "daddy ang at me" (which means yell). I knew that Joe had not yelled at him, but I also knew that to him it felt like yelling because it had the effect of making him feel yelled at.

So I talked to him about it. I am trying to help him develop his internal voice that says he is loved even if someone yells at him. So I asked him why daddy talked to him that way and reminded him. I told him we loved him and that we were eating and needed him to stay at the table while we eat.

I chose my words carefully. And Joe and I talked about it right after in front of him. I told Joe I am with him and I want Truman to know that we are on the same side of things, but that I also feel I need to comfort him if he is scared or hurt.

Joe does the same thing when I get frustrated with Truman and yell.

I think there is value in parenting differently but it is important to keep the transparency that we are united. Daddy may do one thing and mommy may do another but the rule is the same.

PPC day thirty three: p.s.

Also, even though I am running out of clothes that fit I am going to try to look cute.



Because you know, it just makes me feel happier.

And look I got Truman dressed, in a new shirt, easily!

PPC day thirty three: Hope and change

That closet was clean last week. It has been clean for months. It was one of my first organization projects in a long line of things to organize our life from chaos as a family of three to order as a family of four.

I know this isn't going to be solved in 9 months, but I was making good progress.

I spent all last weekend cleaning the office area in which this closet is located. The floor was clean. Toys were in bags to be put where they belong and I felt good.

But I didn't quite get all of the toys away and days later the floor was already covered in this and that. Then he destroyed that closet. The closet where I keep my photography equipment, props, knitting, computer stuff, frames — the things he is not supposed to play with.

This wasn't as much of a problem when the closet closed, but it broke a few months ago and we haven't decided on a fix.

What is really most frustrating about this is that I really, really want to keep cleaning. There are a million messes I want to fix right now but I am so tired. I have a cold, I was up for several hours in the night last night and Truman woke up early. I just don't have the capacity to clean or control the way I feel about this closet right now.

So I feel frustrated. Really, really frustrated that he couldn't just leave it alone despite constant pleas.

I also feel powerless because what has worked in the past (having him take a minute in his room until he calms down and gain control of his emotions and body) is something I just can't do right now. He's big and hard to carry all the way up stairs to his room.

So I feel trapped.

I could keep wallowing in these feelings, try to keep pushing him away so I can have a minute to come out of my fog of frustration, but that isn't working.

I think maybe I had a romantic view of parenting before I was in it where I assumed that in moments like these a knight in shinning armor would come and save me. I know several knights who would love to if they were closer.

But sometimes I just have to face the fact that this is our life, this is my child and whatever life I want to live I have to create here. Sitting around feeling frustrated won't help.

So, instead of watching the clock until Joe gets home, we are switching it up. We're going out. A change of setting will change the pace for both of us and we'll move on.

I know his mess won't look as terrible when I return and I am sure that picture will be cuter in a few hours when the memory of him throwing rainbow colored flash cards around my once clean room yelling "sparklies!" is not so fresh.

I am sure, later, this will be much cuter. And in the very least we will stop making messes while we are not here.

PPC day thirty one: Don't fight battles you can't win

Truman wants to play with food coloring on the couch. On. The. Couch.

Not happening.

I told him he could play with it in the shower where it could be cleaned but he didn't like that idea.

He is now throwing a tantrum about it.

There was a time I would let this make me angry and frustrated, but I won't. It's a battle I can't win.

I can only hope to give him to the tools to understand why he can't do it and move forward.

p.s. File the food coloring under the light bright category of potential awesomeness gone horribly wrong. I bought it for crafts and it has become a constant attraction and now potential mess of doom.

PPC day twenty four: If at first you don't succeed ...

... try, try again, right?

I hear a chorus of children saying that in my head as I write this, yet as a parent it can be hard to remember to try things that are hard again with your child.

Today I had some errands to do in Milaca, so we met up with Joe for breakfast and then he watched Truman while I went to the post office.

Taking a two-year-old out to eat is not easy, but today instead of focusing on that in my mind, I focused on ways to make it easier for him.

He was excited for a placemat and crayons, but after we sat and ordered he grew restless and started climbing on the table to reach a line of Valentine's Day decorations.

I told him not to touch the decorations because they might fall, but instead of stopping or just continuing he explained what he was doing.

He was building a hill.

So, I suggested we build a hill with his placemat, which turned into a house. A few YMCA cards, crayon "food" and napkin wrapper car later and we had a whole pretend land in which to play until the food came.

There you have it: he's growing up. It used to be so hard to keep him entertained in restaurants, but we tried again and it was different.

After I went to the post office I had a crazy idea to take him to Milaca Unclaimed Freight to get supplies to make valentines.

That doesn't sound like the worst idea until you consider that the store is a warehouse full of stuff purchased from abandon freight and being resold at discount. It's a toddler's dream. It's big and interesting and overwhelming.

It's kind of like parent-of-toddler purgatory.

Or, it was.

Today he was too big to sit in the cart, but rode on the front and walked. I had no idea how well this would go. My son has been one of those kids that embraces the world, bolting away from me since he was quite small. So I have grown to fear shopping with him, especially in big places full of interesting unknown things.

But today he stayed near me. He looked at things but put them back and even wanted to fix things that were out of place. He didn't protest when I told him he couldn't have a remote controlled car, but offered him something he could have instead.

Eventually he did get overstimulated and wanted to grab things I asked him not to, but the entire trip was so dramatically different than it had ever been all because he is older and capable of controlling his desire to touch things.

All because of the work all of us have been putting into help him gain control over his own actions and decisions.

I also tried something different before we went in, inspired, again, by Meredith's blog, I talked to him about what we were going to do in positive terms. I usually talk to him about something before we do it, but realize I may use more negative statements than positive.

I might say: "I need you to be careful not to touch things," whereas I could be saying, "I know you are capable of not touching things."

Just semantics to adults, but it can carry so much more weight for toddlers and I wanted to try it out.

Today I said we were going into the store and we would go potty because I knew he could and it would be best to do it before we shopped. And he agreed.

And what do you know? He did. I don't know if it was the talk before hand or the consequence from the day before sinking in, but I am happy that he is thinking about the choice to pee more now.

Then I reminded him why we were there, to get Valentine's Day supplies, so that we wouldn't get too distracted by the big warehouse of whozits and whatzits (which, frankly, is an internal monologue I run for myself in these situations).

And while we did browse many other things and I did let him touch and explore, while explaining, it worked.

When we came home, we even started some of the valentines.

It was a big day, but it was a good day. So many other days like it have not gone as well in the past. But today, like all others, was a new day — a new chance to learn, a new chance to grow, a new chance to try something we've done before again.

PPC day twenty three: Consequences

Here's the thing about consequences: they are not fun to enforce. But that doesn't mean I can just avoid teaching my son things because it's hard.

Not that you would expect me to, right?

On the other hand, I strive not to be an authoritarian parent, based on instinct and research I have done.

Most recently Nurture Shock taught me that according to studies most teens lie. Now, Truman is no teen, but he will be someday and the foundation of our relationship is being mapped out now.

So, what makes teens lie less? Teens who feel their parents set rules, but are willing to bend the rules under some circumstances are least likely to lie. If they feel they can negotiate, then they will try, instead of lying out-right.

The parenting I am trying to practice involves both set and malleable rules. Of course this makes deciding what is set and what is malleable hard.

Really hard.

Anyway, I have been thinking about consequences after reading about a moment my friend Meredith had with her son.

What things will I negotiate and in which will I draw a hard line?

There is only one way to find out: trail and error.

Today we went to the Maple Maze (a big indoor climbing structure). When we got there Truman did not want to go potty. I told him that was fine, but he needed to tell me when he did have to go and I would help him.

I should pause here to say that I have already tried drawing the hard line with pottying. But here is the thing, you can't make someone who doesn't want to pee pee. You can try to trick them into peeing while running water (30% efficacy), but you can't actually force them to pee.

I think some kids can be "forced" into peeing by being told to do so, by bribes or other explanations, but my spirited child will not pee unless he has decided to.

I have focused on trying to make sure he remembers when he has to go and this has worked somewhat well.

Anyway, a little while later he wet his pants. I told him calmly that it was okay and that we needed to go change his pants. He tried to pee, but didn't have to. While he was getting into his new pants I explained that this was his last pair of pants. He needed to go in the potty because if he went in them we would have to go.

A nice natural consequence: if you pee in your pants and don't have anymore, you have to leave.

He played for a while. I asked him if he had to go several times, then finally took him to the potty with me and asked him to try. He refused.

I reminded him that if he peed in his pants we would have to go because we didn't have any more pants. He understood. I told him to tell me when he had to go.

That boy can hold his pee for a long time, I give him credit. And he did not want to leave the maze.

Finally, hours later he came to get a drink, and once he started sipping he peed. He looked at me right away and said "ut oh!"

This was the hard part. He clearly didn't mean to pee his pants. I so wanted to just take him to the car, get more pants and come back. I so wanted to carry 5 pairs of pants so he wouldn't have to feel like he made a mistake and now he couldn't play.

I felt bad for him.

But, I also want a child who understands consequences and will take the time to pee in the potty so he doesn't wet his pants.

I want him to know that when I layout a clear set of rules to which he agrees that there will be consequences and to learn to foresee consequences for himself.

So we left. I think he thought we were getting the pants to bring back inside. He was upset when he realized we were leaving.

That part was hard.

What was good: for once he did not want to be in wet pants. He wanted to change his pants. This is a huge change from even last month. In the past few weeks he has gone from not caring that his clothes are wet or dirty, to wanting to change his pants and wash his shirt.

(Yes, shirt. He wears one shirt, but at least he wants to wash it now).

I hope that this consequence helps him learn to think ahead. I hope it helps him see why he should try to pee when I take him. I hope it helps him see consequences I haven't even outlined for him.

Afterward I explained why I take him potty when he doesn't have to go. That I want to offer him a chance so that he doesn't forget.

PPC day twenty two: learning from mistakes

Most people would say what you learn from this:


(circa early 2009)

is to never, ever, ever leave a giant box of paints under your child's craft table where they can easily repeat the paint-tastrophe.

Well, that is one way of doing things. And probably the way people with clean houses do things.

For a time the paints did migrate away from the table, but eventually they made it back and nearly a year, if not more, passed before today: paint-tastrophe 2.

But you know what? By the time I realized what was going on, my son was already coming over to ask for help.

What had I learned from past mistakes? How to clean up the paint mess, of course!

I grabbed an already dirty towel waiting to go down to the washer and a bowl, and scooped the pain into the bowl. A few more towels later it was pretty much clean and Truman was in the bathroom washing the bowl.

Last time I explained to Truman that he couldn't dump out his paints. And I can't say that I like that he dumps them out on occasion, but ultimately I am just excited that he wanted to paint.

His art table has gone unused for a while, so I welcome the renaissance and its messes.

And what I learned from past mistakes is that I am willing to deal with mess for the benefit of my child and that when that giant mess arrives, I am not even angry.

This project is helping free me from anger over tiny things and enabling me to see the joy in the process of spilling paint and focus on simply the calm process of cleaning it.

Now to use that same calm to clean up the stack of raisins on my floor.

As part the process to become more organized, we are keeping our upstairs clean. This is where the majority of living spaces are (bedrooms, living room, kitchen, dinning room). And after a whole week, we are still doing it! I spent time last night wiping down all the counters and making sure toys were away. Not my favorite way to end a weekend, but the clean living room was my ideal way to start the week.

I think having part of the house clean also makes small messes, like paint, easier to deal with. It's not another mess on top of pile of hopeless messes. It's just one mess in a sea of clean.

PPC day nineteen: Letting him steer the ship

Truman has been struggling with a variety of things lately: potty set-backs, difficulty wanting to leave house and difficulty wanting to return, and even hitting other children the last few days.

For a while I was too frustrated about these set-backs to figure out what the underlying cause was. I kept trying things to treat the symptoms of the set-backs (new potty ideas, new ideas for getting out of the house) but none of them were working well. Until one day it hit me that maybe he is just getting scared of the change that is about come.

He knows and loves the baby. He kisses my belly and talks about the baby, but I think he sees all the changes we are making and realizes our family has changed.

So then I thought, how do I help him deal with this bigger issue?

And I couldn't figure that out, either.

Until I really started listening to what he was saying. As he is running away from me in the morning he was literally saying: "I don't want to go ____. I want to stay home and do ____."

I was taking this as resistance, as him just wanting to be in control of the day. I knew when we got where were going that he would enjoy it (and this was true), so I thought he just needed me to be the one to make him go.

Today among pleadings to stay home I realized maybe he just needs more time at home. Home is a safe place where he is potty independent (except for the occasional wipe), can practically get his own food and roam from activity to activity in his own time without interruptions.

We all need the renewal of being home.

Whats more, his instance to stay home made me realize how much I want more time at home, too. How I feel overwhelmed by all the stuff we have been wanting to do + all the things I want to get done at home.

So we cut out our Friday class today and now have free days on Monday and Friday. Days to renew ourselves at home or go and do something less structured.

I know I will still need to steer the ship for him sometimes, encouraging him to do things I know are good for him or that he will enjoy, but Truman has a good compass within himself letting him know what he needs.

I need to listen to that.

PPC day eighteen: Honoring the baby in toddlers

Truman seems older than he is. He's big, verbal and independent. He can do a lot of things like a three year old and he's certainly the size of a three year old, but that doesn't mean he IS three.

He's still two, he still has those needs he had as a baby and it's easy for me to forget, fall into traps of frustration and want him all grown up at once — potty trained, in control of his body and emotions, weaned from the family bed.

I get so caught up in what I want to accomplish with him. I want to help him accomplish these things so he can move on to other things he is ready for.

But just because he is ahead in some areas doesn't mean he is ahead in all areas. And just because I want something done by X date, have reasonable time lines, steps and everything the books recommend, doesn't mean he is going to be ready to take that next step.

He has been fighting a cold and his sleep has been all out of whack, making our sleep all out of whack, making for one cranky round lady.

He hasn't wanted to go anywhere, even our normal outings and if we go he doesn't want to leave.

Today I honored that. Today I stayed home with him as he wanted.

In the afternoon he settled down for a nap on his own curled on the floor looking just like a baby. Then he stirred a few hours later. I greeted him cheerfully, but he wanted me to hold him. He wanted to sleep in my arms like he had for 18 months.

So, I held him. I was sewing at the time and grabbed a piece of fabric I had, wrapped it around him and have been sitting, wearing him since.

He is still asleep in my arms, cuddling his sibling, peacefully.

Maybe what he really needs is not more rules, more structure or me stepping away. Maybe what he needs is just this closeness he has always had.

Maybe he is sensing that it will be shared soon. Sensing me pushing him to grow up and feeling unsure about it.

As independent as he is, he still needs his mother. I need to remember to honor that. As fearlessly as he approaches the world, he still needs security. I need to remember to honor that.

PPC day seventeen: Good days do not always lead to good nights

Last night I slept entirely in about 1 hour increments.

Joe joked it was one way to train for the baby, but I was more wondering how this would work if there were a baby here, too.



Of course, I know that these nights are rare and I am keeping it in perspective. But in the process of letting it go, I want to share the story of our monumentally haphazard night.

Truman fell asleep after 7:30 on our way home. We got him in the house and tucked him in, then I did a load of dishes, cleaned out a cupboard and the fridge, put away the groceries and swept a little (as part of an effort to keep our newly clean house, well, clean).

Confession, though: our Christmas tree is still up in the basement.

Then we made snacks and settled in to watch an episode of The Office on hulu.

Truman has a cold, so I wasn't surprised that I had to get up twice to calm him back to sleep.

By the third time, right around the end of the episode (which is only 30 min. long) I started to think it was a little weird. But tried not to get frustrated.

He had finally wet those pants and I took them off, comforted him back to sleep and he settled in for a while. Then Joe and I fell asleep on the couch while trying to watch an episode of the X-files on netflix we had fallen asleep watching before.

This is what we have become.

We got up and headed to bed, then the real fun started. About an hour later Truman got upset again. Then an hour later I had to pee. An hour later Joe wasn't feeling well and got up, while Truman climbed into bed, usurping his spot. Thirty to 40 minutes later Joe came back and realized he had to sleep in Truman's bed. About an hour later I got up to pee. An hour later Truman's feet were pushing on my head and I had to ask for help. One hour later Truman got upset and wanted to be on the floor. Then changed his mind and came back to bed. It was 5 a.m. and Joe got up to go to basketball.

That is where any attempt to keep Truman asleep ended. He laid in bed for a while, waking me every time I dosed asking me something. Once he heard daddy's car leave he was up for the day.

So I did what desperate, sleepy parents have done for quite some time and put on a movie from him to watch hoping to sleep a bit more.

Well, the rest of the morning developed much like the night: He came back after about an hour asking for a snack. I set him up with a snack and an episode of Word World. He came back in about 30 minutes saying he had spilled his milk, frustrated I told him to get a towel from the bathroom and put it on the spill (which I discovered he did when I got up a few hours later). Then he wanted more snack. Then he wanted to move up stairs. Finally Joe came back home, I slept for another 30 min, and got up.

While I won't pretend that I wasn't grumpy during some of these moments, I did a pretty good job not pushing my grumpiness on my child. I feel good about that.

And, I found out that while I had thought I wasn't having crazy pregnancy dreams, I am. I am just not remembering them.

My dreams all spiraled together into an Inception-like web of layers. There was even one point where I was deep within the story, heard a small voice, said "I don't want her here," and had to start slapping my face through dream layer after dream layer until I got to the last layer and Truman woke me up.

I am pretty sure that little voice was Truman.

That is the worst night of sleep I have had as a parent where someone wasn't up sick all night.

But, you know, it really wasn't that bad.

I am hoping for a joint afternoon nap in a few hours, though.