Posted in Daily Life, tagged babies, children, humor, motherhood, parenting on September 26, 2013| Leave a Comment »
1. A 19-month-old can throw a snack cup — the kind with a twist-to-lock lid — such that it pops open when it hits the floor.
2. Cheerios travel impressively far on highly polished surfaces such as the floor of our local Target.
3. Saying there’s been a Cheerio disaster gets a smile from a worker bee.
Posted in Daily Life, tagged babies, child rearing, children, humor, motherhood, toddlers on September 20, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Baboo: Please?
Me: Please what?
Baboo: Ice!
(I fetch ice and give it to the Boo.)
Me: Here you go!
Baboo: No!
Me: Okay!
(I ditch the ice.)
Baboo: Please?
Me: Please what?
Baboo: Ice!
Posted in Daily Life, Growth & Development, Happiness, tagged babies, childhood, children, humor, motherhood, toddlers on September 12, 2013| 1 Comment »
Me: Say “please.”
Baboo: “bees!”
Me: Say “pee.”
Baboo: “bee!”
Me: Say “daddy.”
Baboo: “dah-DAY!”
Me: Say “yes.”
Baboo: “yesh!”
Me: Say “house.”
Baboo: “housh!”
Me: Say “ice.”
Baboo: “eyesh!”
Me: Say “kitten.”
Baboo: “nyow-nyow!”
Posted in Happiness, Milestones, tagged babies, babyhood, childhood, motherhood on September 12, 2013| Leave a Comment »
You are 19 months old.
You have somehow learned that this symbol means “trash”:
You have been collecting new words: nice, trash (which was “dash” and is now “tash”), Elmo (much to Mama’s chagrin), go, pop, boom, help, pee, beep, please, eat, on, in, baby. Not that these words sound exactly like they’re supposed to…
You now eat bananas like a normal person (previously Mama fed them to you on a spoon because you either refused to touch them, or smushed them and then complained about your banana-covered hands).
You adore your Daddy more and more as time goes on, running to see if he’s home after every nap and sticking as close as possible to him when he’s home. If you see a picture with a man and a baby, you call the man Daddy.
You occasionally get into a temper, usually when you’re tired. And it’s not really a temper so much as a very pathetic display of tears and sadness over a profound disappointment such as the kitchen gate being closed when you’d prefer to roam the entire first floor.
You sometimes take Mama by the hand to lead her to an activity you’d Iike her to participate in. Usually it involves a book. With kittens. Because…
You love, love, love kittens. Love them. When you see a dog you make your kitten noise. So it’s really cool for you that Grammie bought you a book that actually meows.
You enjoy play dates for the most part, though you tend to hang back a bit and remain puzzled by the concept of sharing.
You have become adept at going though play tunnels.
You love to “help” Mama sweep.
You will sometimes stamp your foot if you’re not getting something you want. We have absolutely no idea where you learned this charming little behavior. Seriously. Mama hasn’t stamped her foot since she was enduring the third fitting for her wedding dress.
You eschew all vegetables except carrots, sweet potatoes and the stems of broccoli.
You know what toilets are for, and you ask Mama if she needs to “bee” every time you see one. If she does, you enjoy getting paper for her, and you try to flush it while she’s still doing her business.
You can go up and down the steps of the jungle gym all by yourself. You can also get into and out of your little chair by yourself. You tend to throw your arms in the air and squeal whenever you get out of the chair successfully. Mama may have taught you that part.
You love to put on one of Mama’s or Daddy’s shoes and clomp around in it.
You said “no!” when you saw the needle for your flu shot, but you didn’t even cry afterwards.
You are 19 months old, and you are edging gently into Toddlerville.
Posted in Cross-Cultural, Daily Life, tagged babies, diversity, motherhood on September 12, 2013| Leave a Comment »
The other day in Target I was standing agape in the sippy cup aisle once again (Why so many? Why?) when I saw something that made me smile. A bunch of somethings, actually. A bouquet of babies:
See, when you’re the white mom of a mixed-race baby, you start to notice these things. I’ll never forget how bummed out I was when I realized that all the babies represented on one of Baboo’s toys were lily-white. It took everything I had to resist grabbing a brown crayon to amend that situation. I mean, which America are you living in, toy company that shall remain nameless? Even here in the Midwest, any outing makes it clear that this country’s beautiful melting pot is all around us.
So thanks, Munchkin, for your cute and diverse bib-hanger babies. You made this mom’s day.
Posted in Daily Life, tagged babies, childrearing, children, humor, motherhood, parenthood, shopping on September 5, 2013| Leave a Comment »
It’s a classic piece of unsolicited advice: Babies change everything. But it’s actually true.
For example, shopping:
– Target used to be where I went for affordable work clothes and fun housewares. Now it’s where I dance a little jig if I leave for under $100.
– Baby Gap was a store I glanced at occasionally as I cruised into The Gap, thinking, “huh, cute.” Now it’s where I struggle to resist spending my kid’s college fund.
– Old Navy was my source for cheap jeans that actually fit me. Now it’s where I go to feel smart about dressing my child.
– The grocery store was an occasional necessity. Now it’s midday entertainment, and (sometimes) a twice-a-week necessity.
Time management…
– Ten free minutes used to mean making a few phone calls. Now it means showering, and maybe a phone call on speaker.
– Laundry used to happen on weekends, whenever I got up. Now it happens before the baby gets up and during naps on weekends. And weekdays.
– I used to unload the dishwasher as soon as it was finished. Now I wait for the baby to be around because he enjoys handing dishes to me. Sometimes I even wait until he’s a little cranky because seriously, he loves helping me.
And everyday objects…
– The couch was where I went to watch movies. Now it’s where I go to nap.
– Measuring cups and mixing bowls were for, well, measuring and mixing. Now they’re bath toys and hats and drums and…
– My iPad used to be the reason I was never bored. Now it’s the reason I’m able to cut the baby’s hair.
And trim his nails.
And brush his teeth.
Posted in Milestones, tagged childhood, children, language development, motherhood, parenting on September 4, 2013| Leave a Comment »
When Baboo was about seven months old, or maybe a little older, I started teaching him baby sign language. Just the classics, really: more, all done, please, thank you. For a while, he used each new sign to mean what the previous one meant, plus the meaning for the new one. So when he signed “please” it actually meant “more” and “please,” and sometimes “I want it.”
Now that he’s 18 months, he has a good range of words to convey his desires and chat about his world. All the books and websites say this is when kids experience a “language explosion.” In Baboo’s case, this has mostly meant pointing out every trash can and excitedly proclaiming “dash!” He also now chants, “go, go, go” every time we pass the gate to the basement, which is our route to going to the store/playground/for a walk.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been focusing on getting him to say “yes” in response to direct questions instead of signing “more” or “please.” I knew he could handle “yes” because three or four weeks ago, he began saying “house” and “ice” clearly (whereas before it was just “ow” and “eye”). The “yes” project went well enough that I was satisfied. My baby was On Target with this Major Developmental Milestone.
But then last week, he was in his high chair and he started doing the sign for “more” perfectly. He’d never done this, so it took me a minute to get what he was saying. I seriously thought he might just be playing with his fingers. So I asked him, just to be sure: “You want more?”
Again, the perfectly executed “more,” plus the word itself, reasonably clearly. Not the “muh” of the past few months. “Mow.”
I think he got tired of me sitting there with my mouth open, because then he signed, and said, “more, please.”
Both signs, perfectly, accompanied by words that were actually recognizable. He’s never done that. Hasn’t done it since. But apparently he put all the pieces together to do it last week, and decided to show Mama what he could do.
Astonishing, what goes on in that little head.
Posted in Daily Life, tagged babies, humor, Kids, motherhood, parenthood on August 28, 2013| Leave a Comment »
When I was five or six I had a distinct thought that I still remember: “It’s hot, and I don’t like being hot. Sweat is gross.” I still remember because I think that thought every summer, all summer long. I knew I would have to adjust that attitude when the baby came. Kids need fresh air, and not just when the weather is perfect.
We’ve gotten off easy this summer, with a long stretch of mid-80s in August that blew everyone’s mind. But last week the temps climbed into the 90s again. And I had an outdoor play date coming up. I won’t lie, I kind of panicked for a bit.
The plan was to go to a splash pad that’s deep inside a botanical garden with a vast blacktop parking lot. There was no getting around the ick factor of sweating the whole time. Also, I have a weird thing where the sun gives me a rash even through SPF 30, so I tend to wear long sleeves to cut down on the itching.
So I was all, “Dammit, I’m going to have to wear sunscreen and long sleeves and people will think I’m a freak for wearing long sleeves, and on top of that, I’m going to be sweating the whole time.” I may have stomped my foot. A few times.
And then I thought, “Baboo’s first splash pad. He’s going to love it. Suck it up, Mama Dean. You’ve been to India. Several times. You grew up in a house without central air. You’ll live, and then you’ll have a nice cool shower afterwards.”
And he did love it. And I survived. And man, that was a great shower.
Ah, the things we do for love.
Posted in Daily Life, tagged babies, childhood, childrearing, motherhood, parenting on August 22, 2013| Leave a Comment »
“Good morning, Sweetheart!”
It’s 5:30, maybe 6 if I’m lucky.
“Uh-oh!”
His beloved Ned hits the floor. He’s been standing and dangling that poor little bear over the crib rail, waiting for the necessary audience for his daily performance. (I know this thanks to the video monitor, that double-edged sword of a device that sometimes entertains as well as reassures parents.)
“Uh-oh! Uh-oh! Uh-oh! Uh-oh! Uh-oh!”
That’s the soundtrack as he works his blanket over the rail with both chubby hands because it’s too big to fling over in one go.
“Uh-oh!”
The elephant-head blankey lands on top of the small mountain of fluffy baby things. Ned is typically at the bottom unless Baboo performed with particular flair and flung him to one side.
“Ney-ney!”
“Yes, I’ll get Ned.”
I retrieve the toy and bend to pick the baby up, moving in ways that protect my mid-40s back. We sit down with Ned. I reach for the bottle I set down as I watched the show. He holds his bear and drinks while I rock us and nuzzle his noggin.
Another day has begun.
Posted in Ugh, tagged embarrassment, motherhood, older mothers on August 20, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Does this haircut make me look old?
Because last week, a nun flat-out called me my baby’s grandma. And I’ve been told I have nice skin, and I was not dressed in old lady clothes. So surely it must have been the haircut.
As background: In celebration of Baboo’s 18-month birthday, we delivered thank-you snacks to the nurses who took care of us when he was born. I had meant to do this earlier but never got around to it, so I decided to make an occasion of the day.
So we went into the (rather Catholic) hospital with our snacks, and the nurses got all happy, and I got a little weepy, and we were standing around chit-chatting, and up walks a nun. (Sadly, she was not in full habit. The story would be better if she had been, but no, she’s a modern nun and the only way to tell she’s a sister is her name tag.) I explained why we were there, and she leaned over the baby and cooed, “Aren’t you lucky to have such a nice grandma?”
I’d like to say I pondered my response, but I didn’t. It just popped out, albeit with laughter. “Actually, I’m his mom.”
That poor nun. I’ve never seen someone say so many nice things so quickly to try to fix a verbal blunder. I did not tell her she was the first person to stab my ego to bits with that assumption, because A) I like nuns and B) I try really hard to be nice, generally. I assured her I wasn’t offended, and that I knew it was inevitable given the color of my hair.
It seems inevitable that this will happen again no matter how chic my coif is, because I love my grey hair and do not plan to color it again, ever. Also, people are quick to judge and not necessarily well-filtered when they speak. I’m steeling myself for that, but in the meantime I’ve had it cut into something more youthful. (Nikki Wright, y’all, is the business.)
So if I get called “grandma” again soon, I guess I’ll just have to start wearing skinny jeans and, um, whatever the teenagers are wearing these days.
My journey to becoming a dietitian and other cool stuff
Living The Road Less Travelled
Mama-Come-Lately 