Parenting from Scratch

Something I’ve realized about becoming a parent is that it really highlights the dominant elements of my personality. If I was introspective before, now I’m an absolute naval-gazer. A curious web-surfer? Now a total research junkie.

There’s just all this pressure to Get It Right. The French are doing it right. And so are the Italians. In fact, everyone is doing it right but me. Or you. Or anyone who is actually doing the naval-gazing at the time.

These new chickens are a-okay with Sadie.

Parenting Sadie is hard freaking work. She’s the most awesome kid I’ve ever known, but she can be a real handful for me a lot of the time. I do my best to convince myself that it’s no big deal that she hits and kicks me when she’s mad. That it’s normal that she nearly always does exactly the opposite of what I ask her to do, unless she’s in a magical mood. She doesn’t listen to me. She couldn’t sit through a meal at the table if her life depended on it. I can’t take her into any store without almost certain meltdown. She yells and screams at me, flings her Sadie-sized furniture over onto the floor or even strikes out at the dogs and cats when she doesn’t get her way.

And I’m no peach, either. I speak too sternly, raise my voice, lose my patience, forget to look at things through her eyes. There are a hundred-and-one answers to the “problems” I have with Sadie, and I’m not using them. In the moment, it is unbelievably hard to remember the tricks to making your “no” come out like a “yes.” Nearly all of the time, I’m winging it.

But you know what? I don’t sweat it like I could. Yes, I worry about what it looks like from the outside when people see me “not having a handle on her” at Target. And absolutely, I am SO TIRED. But I don’t worry about my parenting, and I don’t worry about Sadie. Why not? Because every single time I share Sadie with the other adults in her life, her behavior is nearly immaculate. She spent Friday night at my aunt and uncle’s house (her Mimi and Papa), and when I picked her up Saturday morning, my aunt said that I’d left her with a “perfect child.” Okay, nobody’s kid is perfect, so don’t think I took that literally. But there is a recurring theme to the reports I get back from family members who have helped take care of Sadie. It’s that she’s well behaved, well mannered, pleasant and easy.

Whether or not I’m Doing It Right, whatever I’m doing (and Trevor, too, of course) is working.

The all-important phase of lining things up: one of my favorites.

No, I don’t love how hard it is sometimes to parent Sadie. But I love her with every fiber of my being, and I want her to be a happy, successful person. So If I have to take one for the team and be the person Sadie tests every single limit (I mean every single one) so she can be well behaved, well mannered, pleasant and easy for the rest of the world, I’ll do it. Because it’s working. So far, at least.

Well, I managed to buy some $91 worth of groceries, yet made it out of Kroger without a single meal to prepare for the week. Sadie screamed (and hit and kicked) for at least five minutes before I made it through the checkout line, because I wouldn’t go back to the candy isle. Dinner was a total hodge-podge: I’m pretty sure Sadie had five olives, a little yoghurt, some mustard and a couple of bites of “burrito.” Must get back to meal planning and solo shopping on Sundays.

But I can’t even tell you how glad I am that bedtimes are mostly smooth. Pajamas, medicine, brush teeth, good night to Daddy, read three or five books, quick bedtime nurse, scratch back, scratch belly, scratch armpits (I don’t even know what that’s about), I Love Yous, kisses, cuddles, sleep. It’s such a good mending time for Sadie and me when we’ve had a rough spot. And it’s SO much less work than it was even a month ago, as hard as that might seem to believe.

Not all evenings are so rough, mind you. Yesterday was one of painting and goons, whatever that means. But this toddler thing sure kicks my ass sometimes. Oh, and Kroger, would it hurt to have the peanut butter on a different isle than the candy?

To all the people out there who told me Sadie wouldn’t want to be patted and shushed to sleep forever: You were right. It only took two years and nine months.

First, a special shout-out (not that they’ll ever read this) to the ladies at Vintage Socialite in Hillcrest. They were so kind to let a pleading Sadie not only try on some shoes, but they also didn’t kick me out when I (reluctantly) helped Sadie try on this big, beautiful red dress.

But, really, what I have to get off my chest is that I am completely worried that Sadie’s brain is being consumed by Princess. By our design, not any particular princess, but princess and pink to be sure. I do hope this is a phase, and it’s not something we’re discouraging, but I can’t help but worry (hey, I’ve got to do something my free time), especially when I listen to an interview like this.

For now, I’m focusing on things that are attainable, like learning ballet like her 13-year-old cousin, who is an all-around great role model for Sadie to choose.

Want to know what not to get your kid to celebrate no more diapers (!) and being 2 and a half (not two and ever, as Sadie would tell you)?

A fish in a tank.

Sadie loved the idea of the fish, who she named “Daddy Fishey.” But she pretty much flipped her shit yesterday when I tried to explain she could not, under any circumstance, hold Daddy Fishey. Not even just a wittle bit moore.

So now Trevor and I are keeping Daddy Fishey safe, way up high on the wardrobe in our bedroom. I guess until Sadie can understand that Daddy Fishey will be asleep forever if we take him out of his water house. And can agree not to bang on the tank when told such news (guess a larger, heavier tank would have been the better choice after all).

Oops.

Wow. I feel like things have been going a mile-a-minute lately. Here are some ramblings to catch you up (and so I can at least sort of remember what life was like with a 2 year-old Sadie.

Verbal, verbal, verbal. That’s definitely where most of Sadie’s development has been lately. We’ve gone from simple two-word phrases to full-blown sentences and conversations we can actually follow. There are, of course, still many conversations that leave us scratching our heads. We talk A LOT about what is and is not Sadie’s. She really seems to like knowing what she can claim as her own and what is Mama’s or Daddy’s. I’m trying to work in the categories “Sadie’s to share” and “everybody’s.” Her manners are so cute and funny. She says “sorry” a lot, apologizing to us, to her toys, to herself. The other day she started saying, “Yes, Mama.” and “Yes, Daddy.” And, the very best of all, she’s starting to spontaneously say “I love you.” She’ll even say “I love her,” when talking about her toys, puzzle pieces (?) and BFF Margie.

Sadie continues to be very nurturing with her baby dolls and other toys. Thankfully, she’s getting a little better about petting the cats gently. Though, she’s becoming more and more interested in trying to carry the cats around. For their sake, I hope Sadie doesn’t decide the cats need diaper changes like all of her other toys. Here’s a good example of just how far this goes: Last Saturday, I decided we should make some graham crackers. I mixed up the dough and put Sadie in her Learning Tower so she could help roll out the dough and use her little cookie cutters. We did lots of stars, hearts and clovers. Then she found a tiny teddy bear cutter. I helped her cut one out, and she immediately cuddled it to her chest, saying “Awww, sweety bear.” Then the head fell off. We did this a few times, and then she moved on to just cuddling the cookie cutter. Later, I found her in her room asking the little bear if it needed a diaper change. And this morning she was cuddling a fridge magnet letter I. Of course, when she sets off into a bit of a tantrum, it’s not unusual for her to throw any and all toys on the ground with pretty serious force.

Bedtime and sleeping in general continue to be a struggle. She’d gone so long without fighting bedtime, it’s been hard getting back into the swing of helping her get to sleep. She’s still waking up one to three times a night, which is exhausting.

Yes, she is still nursing. I go back and forth on how I feel about this one. Some days, it’s no big deal. Other days, I wish I could just talk her out of it. She has, at least, become much better about handling boundaries I set about when, where, and for how long she can nurse. Nursing a toddler is nothing if not interesting, I can tell you that much. Tonight, when she was nursing before bed, she said, “I nursing. This my nuhnuh?”

Sadie’s been making friends with the kids in the neighborhood, which has been a lot of fun. They come over to play in our yard and on our porch, and Sadie generally enjoys it. Sharing toys on her turf is, expectedly, difficult. But she’ll get there.

Much to my chagrin, she’s watching more “TV” than I thought she would be at this age. Our TV is still in the closet, so she’s actually watching stuff on the little DVD player for the car and on the laptop. You do the best you can, I guess. Most of our book reading these days happens during meals, for some reason. She’s been on quite the streak with the Lorax lately. Sometimes it’s a great way to get her to focus on breakfast. Take a bite, and I’ll read the next page.

She’s got an interesting mix of bravery and fear, which I assume is pretty typical. She’ll put herself into many precarious physical situations without a second thought (using her little rocking chair to reach things that are up high). But then she goes on and on about the turkey she saw three weeks ago and how it scared her. We do our best to take these in stride.

Her much-loved teacher took a new job a couple of weeks ago, and this has been very hard for Sadie. She talks about her just about every day. Drop-off at daycare has become tearful again, which is so very sad for me.

Okay, enough about Sadie! What about the rest of us?

Trevor is doing well. His grandfather passed recently, and Trevor flew to be with his family in Maryland for the funeral services. His grandfather was a dear man who had lived a full life. I am glad to have known him even a little and that he had the chance to meet Sadie this past Christmas. It’s mountain bike race season again, so I’m hoping we can do a little camping with Sadie for a race or two.

I am Busy at work. Busy. And at home, too. I’ve been doing a lot of kitchen “projects,” trying out new recipes in the hopes of eliminating more and more processed foods from our regular diets. Kale chips were a total bust, but I’m going to try these cinnamon-honey roasted chickpeas a second time and see if I can get them a little crunchier. Tonight it’s frozen yogurt! I’ve got the seed planted in my head to do a Parenting from Scratch e-book, if I could ever get myself to set aside time to think/work on it. I’ve recently discovered Glee on Netflix. I know, right? Whatever. What I desperately want is a family vacation. But it doesn’t look like that’s in the cards for us this summer. Ugh. I am scheduled to finally (!) have my wisdom teeth removed in two weeks. Good riddance, I say.

The animals are mostly good. We lost a chicken a few weeks ago. As in, she literally vanished. I had a horrible nightmare about her last night. SCARY CHICKEN.

I took Sadie to Riverfest this weekend, which was a good mix of fun and crazy. Sadie really liked the drums. And I got to introduce her to my formerly annual favorite, Filipino barbeque shish-ka-bobs. Sadie also had a blast watching the various performances, especially the gymnastics. I’d have taken photos of that, but I was so busy trying to keep her off the stage.

When your toddler says her first swear word.

Sadie, Trevor and I were having lunch yesterday at the cafe at my office. Sadie wanted to take over peeling the orange, so I handed it to her. After a few moments, she accidentally dropped it on the ground. “Shit,” she said. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

I looked at Trevor. “Did she just say ‘shit?’” “No, surely that was ‘sit.’ Sadie, sit?”

“Shit.”

Well, you’ve gotta hand it to her, that was impeccable context.

Fortunately, swearing isn’t the only verbal development Sadie’s had in the past couple of months. Her vocabulary is exploding, her grasp of syntax is improving, and it seems like every day she’s got a new phrase.

Sadie do it.
I like it.
I don’t want it.
I need some.
I try it.
Come on, Mama.
Okay, guys, that’s enough. (Where on Earth did she get that one?)
Hear me?
I watch the pig.
A little bit more.
Bye, everybody. (That was today’s.)

We’ve also been up to other, more physical shenanigans. Like these:

A happy birthday, indeed, was had by miss Sadie Diane. We are all wiped out (and still awake, cripes!), so here are just a few phone snapshots for now

Meet Sadie’s new, 7 month-old baby sister, Too Big Baby. Sadie insisted on taking Too Big Baby home with us from my sister’s house Sunday night, and they’ve been attached on my at the hip ever since. This baby is too big! In some ways, it’s hilarious. The adorable sounds Sadie makes when she’s trying to hoist Too Big Baby up when she holds her. How she says, “hebby” when the burden is too great to bear. Let me tell you, though, this is one awkward baby. Trevor and I have both had the joy of carrying Sadie AND Too Big Baby around Sadie’s dark room, because there’s no way Sadie’s putting her down. She’s been hauled to and from the car (Miraculously we’ve been able to convince her Too Big Baby needs to stay in the car for a nap when we’re out around town), fed bottles, read to. I made the mistake of covering Too Big Baby up during Sadie’s “nap” yesterday, only to hear, a few minutes later, desperate cries for HELP! Too Big Baby’s blanket had come off, and Sadie couldn’t get it back right. On the up side, I’ve yet to have to change Too Big Baby’s diaper or nurse her. I don’t know how I’ve managed so long.

Of course this is all tongue-in-cheek (for the most part–she really is big and heavy). It still brings me enormous joy to see my baby caring so much for all of her babies. I do wish she wouldn’t hit them…

And, hey, I guess this kind of gives us some practice for whenever Spawn II comes around.

But, y’all, it’s only Tuesday!

Alright, alright, I know Sadie’s not REALLY a music snob. I’m sure it’s totally normal for toddlers to get fixated on something, like the same song, and practically refuse to diversify their interests. But it IS kind of funny to think of an almost-20-month kid as a music snob, no?

Bertha by the Grateful Dead was the first song Trevor noticed that Sadie liked.

So he played it. And played it. Anytime Sadie would be grouchy while in her high chair, Trevor would play it. Soon, she began recognizing the album cover and pulling it out, specifically requesting it be played. Now that she’s a verbal tot, she’s been requesting it by name. Oh, and she’s picking up on the lyrics, too. “More” was, not surprisingly, one of her first few words, so “Bertha don’t you come around here anymore” often has Sadie chiming in, “more” in her cute, drawn-out way. It has to be the most-played record in our family’s history.

Talk on Indolence by The Avett Brothers is her car song.

There’s a pretty dramatic shift in the song, and Sadie loves it. Sitting in her car seat, she bops her head and kicks her feet. It was cute at first, so we started putting it on regularly. Then we started putting it on whenever we needed to perk her up on a drive. Then, for a while, it was the only way I could get her to sit down in her car seat. She just calls it “song.” She wants Her Song played. Sometimes when we’re outside, Sadie will try to drag me to the car, saying, “Song!” because she just wants to be in the car and listen to it. Now, it’s about the only thing we can listen to in the car. Forget NPR. Forget any other bands we happen to like. We get to hear about some guy being nervous being seen in his swimming trunks, fountains filled with bottles and cigarettes, and getting raging drunk. I can’t wait for the day Sadie picks up THAT line. Oops.

In her bedroom, it’s all about King Bidgood’s in the Bathtub. I’d never heard of this, but apparently Trevor and his sisters grew up with it. It’s a book, but there’s an accompanying audio bit that jazzes up the story. She wants it on day and night. She’s even napped with it on loop. It takes some serious work to get her down for the night without playing it (I mean, come on, it’s REALLY not sleeping music.). We have to convince her that the King (“Keee!”) is sleeping. We even wave night-night to the King, whose CD resides in her sock drawer, when it’s not in the CD player.

In the hopes of expanding her horizons, Trevor recently purchased a good handful of old children’s albums. We’ve got some Disney stuff, some Muppets, Sesame Street, and Alvin and the Chipmunks. So far, no dice.

This is normal, right?