There's no denying it, people. He's obsessed. I don't know if it's the high pitched voice, the slammin' dance moves or the red fur, but my boy has got it bad. Elmo, thy name is toddler god.
It's even gotten to the point where I have to spell out you know whose name if I don't want an immediate begging for an iPhone video or book. And by begging, I mean Mateo saying "Elmo? Elmo? Elmo? Elmo?" while simultaneously signing "please" by patting himself repeatedly on the upper chest. (By the by, for those of you who have kids who have signed, do you ever feel like you're being "yelled" at when they repeatedly sign over and over again? More, more, MORE, I said!)
I'm down with Elmo, I suppose, and it's cool that he hangs with celebrities. Particularly Adam Sandler, who I heart. Welcome to my world:
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Difficult Conversations
Last week when I was in the bookstore of the law school where I work, (buying a Diet Dr. Pepper; don't judge me for my addictions), I noticed the featured book by the cash register: Difficult Conversations: How to Discuss What Matters Most. At first I was just going to pass it by, but then I decided to read a little bit of the description on the back, which in addition to work stresses, mentions the challenges of parenting. So, Harvard Negotiation Project, you're going to help me deal with my toddler? Sold!
I wish I could go on to tell you how amazing the book is, but truth be told, I have yet to crack it open. I'm very hopeful, though.
Despite not yet reading the book, the fact still exists that I'm thinking a lot these days about how to handle difficult situations, mostly of the 2 foot variety. As I mentioned last week, it's been challenging to shift from the baby paradigm to the toddler paradigm. You basically spend 12 or so months doing everything you can to meet every need of your child immediately, and then suddenly as they start to walk and talk, you (and everyone around you), start to think about things like rules, discipline and "indoor voices."
I think part of what I find so hard about it is dealing with my own, and other's, expectations. Both Geno and I grew up in relatively strict houses, where manners and rules were part and parcel of daily life. We want the same thing for Mateo, but we know that he's not developmentally in a place where he can truly grasp what an "indoor voice" actually is, let alone logic-based rules. Given all of this, I took it pretty hard recently when a friend told me that I'm not the kind of parent she thought I would be. I think she thought I would be strict, and I think eventually I will be, but right now, I don't know how to be strict with a 1 year old.
What I do know, however, is that the author of the following list is a genuine genius:
WHY HAVING A TODDLER IS LIKE BEING AT A FRAT PARTY:
10. There are half-full, brightly-colored plastic cups on the floor in every room. Three are in the bathtub.
9. There's always that one girl, bawling her eyes out in a corner.
8. It's best not to assume that the person closest to you has any control over their digestive function.
7. You sneak off to the bathroom knowing that as soon as you sit down, someone's going to start banging on the door.
6. Probably 80% of the stains on the furniture contain DNA.
5. You've got someone in your face at 3 a.m. looking for a drink.
4. There's definitely going to be a fight.
3. You're not sure whether anything you're doing is right, you just hope it won't get you arrested.
2. There are crumpled-up underpants everywhere.
1. You wake up wondering exactly how and when the person in bed with you got there.
I wish I could go on to tell you how amazing the book is, but truth be told, I have yet to crack it open. I'm very hopeful, though.
Despite not yet reading the book, the fact still exists that I'm thinking a lot these days about how to handle difficult situations, mostly of the 2 foot variety. As I mentioned last week, it's been challenging to shift from the baby paradigm to the toddler paradigm. You basically spend 12 or so months doing everything you can to meet every need of your child immediately, and then suddenly as they start to walk and talk, you (and everyone around you), start to think about things like rules, discipline and "indoor voices."
I think part of what I find so hard about it is dealing with my own, and other's, expectations. Both Geno and I grew up in relatively strict houses, where manners and rules were part and parcel of daily life. We want the same thing for Mateo, but we know that he's not developmentally in a place where he can truly grasp what an "indoor voice" actually is, let alone logic-based rules. Given all of this, I took it pretty hard recently when a friend told me that I'm not the kind of parent she thought I would be. I think she thought I would be strict, and I think eventually I will be, but right now, I don't know how to be strict with a 1 year old.
What I do know, however, is that the author of the following list is a genuine genius:
WHY HAVING A TODDLER IS LIKE BEING AT A FRAT PARTY:
10. There are half-full, brightly-colored plastic cups on the floor in every room. Three are in the bathtub.
9. There's always that one girl, bawling her eyes out in a corner.
8. It's best not to assume that the person closest to you has any control over their digestive function.
7. You sneak off to the bathroom knowing that as soon as you sit down, someone's going to start banging on the door.
6. Probably 80% of the stains on the furniture contain DNA.
5. You've got someone in your face at 3 a.m. looking for a drink.
4. There's definitely going to be a fight.
3. You're not sure whether anything you're doing is right, you just hope it won't get you arrested.
2. There are crumpled-up underpants everywhere.
1. You wake up wondering exactly how and when the person in bed with you got there.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
17 Months
Querido Mateo,
Earlier this week you hit 17 months, and let me tell you, July was off the hook.
Let's run down the high (and low) lights: First sprinkler experience on the 4th of July, the now infamous trip to Puerto Rico, a heatwave, a febrile seizure & trip to the ER, an up close and personal greeting of the concrete with your forehead and nose, tons of quality time with Dad, being left by your parents for 5ish days, lots of time with your cousins and a visit from your grandparents.
Through it all, though, you have been such an amazing little trooper. Even when you were so, so sick, you made a point of lifting your head off of Dad's shoulder to say "hola" to the ER nurse. You start most days by "singing" (you like to make up your own tunes, but I think one is oddly close to the Barney theme song, which is interesting, because you don't watch tv), and similarly end the day by humming to me as we rock in the dark.
Of course, you're not always a happy camper. This month you started to embrace your independence, and there has been a significant uptick in meltdowns. You get really frustrated by not knowing the word for something you want, and likewise when something desirable is out of reach. I can already hear adumbrations of "Do it by myself!" This new phase of yours also means a new phase for us as your parents, and it has already been challenging to figure out how to best handle your new toddler lifestyle. (More on that later in the week). It's a vortex of wonderful, hard, exhausting and exhilarating all at once.
At the end of the day, though, it's all about being a family.
Te amo,
Mama
Earlier this week you hit 17 months, and let me tell you, July was off the hook.
Let's run down the high (and low) lights: First sprinkler experience on the 4th of July, the now infamous trip to Puerto Rico, a heatwave, a febrile seizure & trip to the ER, an up close and personal greeting of the concrete with your forehead and nose, tons of quality time with Dad, being left by your parents for 5ish days, lots of time with your cousins and a visit from your grandparents.
Through it all, though, you have been such an amazing little trooper. Even when you were so, so sick, you made a point of lifting your head off of Dad's shoulder to say "hola" to the ER nurse. You start most days by "singing" (you like to make up your own tunes, but I think one is oddly close to the Barney theme song, which is interesting, because you don't watch tv), and similarly end the day by humming to me as we rock in the dark.
Of course, you're not always a happy camper. This month you started to embrace your independence, and there has been a significant uptick in meltdowns. You get really frustrated by not knowing the word for something you want, and likewise when something desirable is out of reach. I can already hear adumbrations of "Do it by myself!" This new phase of yours also means a new phase for us as your parents, and it has already been challenging to figure out how to best handle your new toddler lifestyle. (More on that later in the week). It's a vortex of wonderful, hard, exhausting and exhilarating all at once.
At the end of the day, though, it's all about being a family.
Te amo,
Mama
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Traveling Mercies Part Deux
I may have been on an airplane in July more than I was in my car. (Hooray?) Our first family trip to Puerto Rico was such a joy, and quickly followed by the first trip that Geno and I have taken without Mateo. The trip was brought about because I had the honor of officiating the wedding of our dear friends, Kate & Per, (or KaPer, as they are now known,) in the beautiful city of Portland, Oregon.
At first we thought we would bring Mateo along with us, but given the amount of wedding responsibilities I had and the inability of any family members to come play babysitter, we decided to leave him at home. As fortune would have it, my parents were actually on the east coast to visit my sister, so in our absence Mateo got to be entertained by both sets of grandparents, aunts, an uncle and all his cousins. Lucky kid.
Spending 5 days and 4 nights apart from Mateo was definitely hard on us, (especially since we were so far away and he had been quite sick earlier in the week), but it was also wonderful to have time just to ourselves. We each celebrated in our own unique way: Geno went for long runs and watched the Yankees while lying in bed. I took 45 minutes to blow dry my hair. Ah, the freedom. (Of course we also enjoyed getting to have long talks, seated dinners, plenty of sleep and by-choice late nights.)
All in all, the trip was great, and I think that it was good for the three of us to figure out how to function outside of our usual nuclear family routine. And, in addition to learning more about who I am, who Geno is, and who we are as a couple, I was also forced to get my parenting ducks in a row. Preparing to leave Mateo meant doing the following:
At first we thought we would bring Mateo along with us, but given the amount of wedding responsibilities I had and the inability of any family members to come play babysitter, we decided to leave him at home. As fortune would have it, my parents were actually on the east coast to visit my sister, so in our absence Mateo got to be entertained by both sets of grandparents, aunts, an uncle and all his cousins. Lucky kid.
Spending 5 days and 4 nights apart from Mateo was definitely hard on us, (especially since we were so far away and he had been quite sick earlier in the week), but it was also wonderful to have time just to ourselves. We each celebrated in our own unique way: Geno went for long runs and watched the Yankees while lying in bed. I took 45 minutes to blow dry my hair. Ah, the freedom. (Of course we also enjoyed getting to have long talks, seated dinners, plenty of sleep and by-choice late nights.)
All in all, the trip was great, and I think that it was good for the three of us to figure out how to function outside of our usual nuclear family routine. And, in addition to learning more about who I am, who Geno is, and who we are as a couple, I was also forced to get my parenting ducks in a row. Preparing to leave Mateo meant doing the following:
- Creating an emergency medical treatment authorization. This form gives the caregivers of your choice the ability to make medical decisions for your kid when he or she is not in your direct care. (You can make it time specific or open-ended.)
- Talking to our family members about what we would want for Mateo's care in the event that something happened to both of us. Yes, I know this is really morbid, and yes, as an attorney, I'm painfully aware of the fact that we don't have this spelled out in a will. (That's on my next to-do list.) (Also, just fyi, if your kid has godparents, this role in and of itself does not give them legal standing in terms of custody. You actually need to put your wishes in a will, otherwise state law will determine custody by next-of-kin rules.) Nonetheless, despite being a tough conversation, I'm really glad we did it. No discomfort outweighs the relief of knowing that we are doing all we can to look out for Mateo.
- Putting together a little morning and evening checklist for his antibiotics doses. I know that I sometimes have a hard time keeping track of giving myself medicine, so I figured it would make it easier on the grandma's to have a little box to check-off each morning and evening.
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