Not for the Squeamish: June 2010

Sloths 'r Us

Thank you to everyone that submitted your sloth report. I understand that most of them were late, but given our status as champion lollygaggers, this is actually to be commended.

Some highlights from the toddler section:

Kudos to all of you that have successfully managed to stall by at least 15 minutes when leaving the house. By far, the number one tactic is a last-minute poopy diaper. Those that were able to hold it until your mommy's hand was actually turning the front door get a gold star. Additional methods used include needing time to gather every toy in the house for the trip, claiming you suddenly need a nap, repeatedly taking off your shoes and finding a long-lost cracker that can only be consumed while lying down on the floor.

Just as a reminder, getting to the car is only half the battle. Many of you seem to have forgotten nothing happens until you are fully strapped into the carseat, so use this extra time to your advantage. Claiming a need to climb in by yourself, especially when your hands are full, can buy you precious minutes of non-productive time. Be sure to meticulously check under all the seats for any forgotten or dropped toys that you will surely not be able to live without for the next 30 seconds. This next move takes practice, but if you are quick, you can scoot over the center console to explore the front seat while your adult is untangling the straps on your carseat yet again (remember, always twist on your way out!). At the least, you should feign innocent curiosity and not move until you are allowed to touch something in the front. And then touch it again. And then have your adult touch it.

Here's a great tip that recently came in: why move if you don't have to? Inexplicably standing still saves energy and will bring your adult to new levels of frustration. For an ideal, "what the...?" reaction, implement this device when you actually want to go somewhere. The mystified look on your mommy's face when she knows you want to go see trains, yet will not move to get there, is priceless. For an additional use, try it in a public place to see the streams of people flow around you.

How can you bring your sloth lifestyle into everyday situations? Check out this month's newsletter for ideas. Our favorite? Rules for buckles. Be sure you have some arbitrary rules for when and how you can buckle yourself into a car, stroller, booster seat or anything else. You'll find many opportunities throughout the day. Breaking these rules must result in an ear-splitting, time-wasting tantrum so change them up frequently and don't give in until they are properly followed each time.

In all, everyone had some great performances. To date, we've lost 16% of overall productive time and our adults have been an average of 27 minutes late to all functions. It's only mid-year but we're already close to the 30-minute mark! Bed times are running 42 minutes later and meals take almost 10% longer. Keep up the good work!

Lions and tigers and bears...are where?

Rumor has it, there are animals at the zoo. Now, we go at least once a week, sometimes more, and I have yet to really confirm this, but I'm giving the idea the benefit of the doubt.

From what I hear, our zoo groups the majority of its animals by continent/habitat. The largest section by far is Africa, with all of the animals of the Serengeti and standard zoo favorites - giraffe, cheetah, gorilla, zebra, etc. There's Australia, featuring fun kangaroos, sheep and a lot of birds. The Tropics take you to the rain forest, the Discovery Barn shows kids frogs and meerkats, with farm-ish/americana animals (pig, deer, donkey) outside. A few catch-all areas showcase tigers, elephants, otters, sea lions and soon, polar bears. In short, it's a zoo with zoo stuff.

So with all of this to choose from, how is it we haven't seen any of them? I mean, the G-man LOVES the zoo! It's his number-one go-to destination. Aren't we there to see his favorite animals? Not really...

Despite the fact we spend hours there every week, rain or shine, we rarely see a creature other than other zoo guests! For the zoo has a few more things that he prefers: carousel, tram, train and playground. The majority of these are focused around the front gate, so we can go weeks without ever setting foot in the main part of the zoo. Trust me, it's almost a skill to be so focused on non-zoo activities.

Upon our arrival, it's straight to the carousel, for one thing and one thing only - a ride on the ladybug. Really. That's all he will ride. God help us if there is another kid riding the ladybug or even looking at it. His ladybug riding is legendary, with staff regulars recognizing him straight off.

If given the chance, he would do the carousel all day. We use it as a home base, as in me saying, "Let's go do X" and G-man finishing with, "and then ride ladybug again." We simply bounce back to it on a consistent basis.

Next to the carousel is the snake exhibit. I will say, he does love this and they are the only animals we routinely see. I'm sure part of their allure is the convenient location to the ladybug.

After another ride, it's off to...ride something else. The tram is the logical choice. It runs to Africa, so you'd think we get to see that at least. Not so fast! You didn't think G-man would let us get off the tram, did you? We wait for it to unload/load again and then ride back to the main gate. We can occasionally see the elephants on our journey and usually the flamingos, too. These, along with the snakes could be the only animals we see all day.

If the planets are aligned, we can ride the train, located next to the tram stop. It has two sections. The first trip starts at the front gate and loosely takes you past camels, sheep and kangaroos. Unfortunately, that long journey involves a tunnel that scares the crap out of him so we have to skip it. But the second half of the trip (starting from another station) is very short and only takes you by the polar bear exhibit construction site on the way back to the front gate. It almost guarantees you won't see an animal but G-man is thrilled to see the machines instead.

How is it we get near the other train station to begin with? Why, it's near the playground! Yep, there's a playground with slides and tunnels, located just a wee bit away from the main gate. How nice. Walking to it takes about 2 minutes from the carousel and is often the farthest distance we travel on our own. It's usually too freaking hot to use from sitting in the sun, but entices him just the same.

So if you ask G-man what he did at the zoo, he'll say, "see animals," but he's lying. I'm curious to see how he reacts when he's older and realizes there are a ton of creatures to really watch and that the zoo isn't just a tiny amusement park that happens to have random elephant sightings.

Before toddler-hood, I've never knew it was possible to spend 4 hours at the zoo and barely leave the front area. But G-man is fine with that and that's what counts. I, on the other hand, am inexplicably exhausted after it all, every time.

Keep that in mind if you ever embark on a visit with us. Oh, and one more important zoo fact: he is totally scared of sea lions.

2 years, 24 weeks, 4 days

Today, the G-man did something for the first time. Something amazing. Oh sure, there are tons of milestones we've been excited about - his first solid foods, his first steps, his first words. But this is truly a banner moment in our lives as a family.

Today, at 2 years, 24 weeks and 4 days old, G-man told me he was tired and wanted to take a nap.

Out of the blue! As he was riding in the car on the way home from a disastrous trip to the splash park, I hear him say, "G-man tired. Go home, take nap."

I practically had a heart attack. It's a wonder I didn't wreck the car in my excitement and disbelief.

You see, the G-man has never been a napper. He barely napped at all his entire first year. And by that, I mean just a few times a month we had the miracle of daytime sleep. And that required an act of congress. 2.5 hours of rocking, singing and begging for 22 minutes of slumber peace. We still haven't caught up on our own sleep from that year.

During his second year, he decided that only 2 hours of intervention would be necessary and some sort of nap would happen about 5 times a week, and for a few weeks of bliss, it was every day. I was spoiled. I started showering every day, getting work done while the sun was up and snacking on the goodies I won't let him eat.

Then he turned two and the party stopped. Almost from the moment we said, "Happy Birthday!" he's been back on the move and barely blinks, much less closes his eyes. When I pick him up from PDO, his teachers look so tired and then I know he's even stopped napping there. To be fair, I do still try every day - story, paci, music, rock, rock, rock... - and can count on success about three days a week. It's just that I never know when those three will come. And sometimes he has a marathon 3 hour snooze and other times it's back to pizza delivery 30 minutes or less.

And through all that, even when he yawned and had eyes so puffy from lack of sleep he could barely see, he never, ever, admitted to being tired.

Until today.

Of course, by the time we got home and I started getting his room dark, paci out and books gathered, he totally denied ever saying it and wanted to play trains. But it was out there. I heard it and he can never take it back.

And best of all, he's asleep.

Boys vs. girls

When we were expecting G-man, we didn’t know what we were going to get. Not like personality or looks, but would it be a boy or a girl? Despite our usual tendency for instant gratification, we managed to let the birth of our baby bring us a long-anticipated surprise.

Scott wanted a girl. I wanted a boy. Either way, one would have to lose.

But the universe has a funny way about it sometimes. Yes, I got my boy, but as the G-man grows, we see that it’s softened the blow of the missing X chromosome and tried to level the field a bit.

For one, he’s pretty. Not just cute, but actually pretty. And yes, as my parents read this they are screaming about how it’s because I’ve let his hair grow long. But really, even if he had short hair, or even a buzz cut, he’d be pretty. He has long lashes, striking eyes, red lips and cheeks nanas want to pinch and kiss. As a baby, even if his hair was in a cap and he was dressed all in blue, people thought he was a girl.

All boy, he runs until he falls down or crashes into something, then, does it again. He destroys and throws whatever is in sight. His fingernails are harboring bits of dirt from all over town. He’s fascinated by machines, fire trucks and tractors. He squooshes his boogers, laughs at farts and puts his hands down his pants.

Yet, his second favorite color is pink. He adores ladybugs and things with ladybugs on them. He loves to wear his friends’ dress-up heels. He prefers Hello Kitty band-aids to Batman. He likes butterflies, calls the cat pretty and likes to feed bottles to baby dolls.

I love that he doesn’t fit a mold or the expected norms of what a boy should be vs. what a girl should be. There are so many things that I feel are taken away from kids when they are “steered” towards one gender preference over another. As he seems destined to be our only, it’s great that we get the best of both worlds while we can.

I am...

Driving the car the other day, I hear from the backseat, “Mommy wipe.” The G-man just had a snack, so I figure he needs a wipe. I deftly whip one of out of the bag next to me, while cursing the city bus that feels the need to take up more than one lane, and expertly hand it to Mr. Clean in the back.

“Mommy wipe.”

“I just gave you a wipe. Do you need another one?”

“No, mommy wipe. Mommy take dis.”

Oh, he’s done with it. For some reason, he feels the need to give me things while I’m driving instead of just tossing them over his seat next to him like he would do anywhere else. So, I trustingly reach my arm back there again.

And…he wipes something on my hand.

Ew. It’s, well, I don’t know what it was. Booger? Leftover goo from his snack? Something found in the depths of his carseat, the bottom his shoe, the back of his mouth? Whatever it was, I suddenly had a moist blob on my finger. Mommy wipe indeed!

Maybe it wouldn't have been so gross if it was the first time. (Ok, no, it was still gross.) But in reality, he wipes everything on me - his nose, his mouth, his shoes. If he starts to eat something and changes his mind, he expects me to hold it, no matter what state of consumption it was in. Find a (dead) worm? Sure, mommy is the right place to go with that. Need bird poop cleaned off a swing? Why wait for a paper towel when mommy's hand is right there? I do, by the way, draw the line at that one even if it means making his highness wait a few more minutes.

And, so it continues: I’m a human napkin.

But that’s not my only role. Like a chameleon, I’m skilled at situation adaptation, morphing into anything at a moment’s notice.

When G-man feels the need to climb, I’m a playground. For snacks and meals, I’m chef and dining entertainment. At any out-of-home activity, I’m a pack mule, carting boy and gear wherever we go. I’m an elephant, train or bridge depending on his mood. I’m a magician that makes boo-boos better and white milk turn brown.

I am all things, at all times.

I am G-man’s mommy.