Toddler Activity: Colored Ice

Food Coloring + Water + Freezer = Colored Ice

 Add toddler, warm weather, and a sunny sidewalk.

Let toddler play, discovering colors. . .

 Counting. . .

Melting, and so much more.

Miles LOVED this activity.

Actually, he ignored it at first.  Then, Mommy dumped the ice cubes out on the sidewalk and began pushing them around.  For awhile, they were cars, creating their own tracks as they went.  Then, he lined them up, counting, "Wun, tooo, freee, fow-ah".  Then, he listed their colors (occasionally, he even said the correct color - mostly, he just said "poor-pul" [purple]).  Then, he put the ice cubes back in the tray, and we worked on matching the colors to the residue left in the tray.

Then, we just dumped them, and put them back, and dumped them, and put them back.  And played in the cool, colorful, quickly evaporating puddles.

**If you choose to do this, know that one drop of food coloring per ice cube is plenty for a bright coloring.  I put the water in first, added the coloring, then mixed with a toothpick.**

Autumn

A few evenings ago, we loaded up the Boy and drove to a nearby park.  The air was warm, with just a hint of chill in the breeze.  We all wore jackets, but Patrick and Miles probably could have been just fine without them.  As they chased each other in lopsided circles, occasionally sword fighting, or tossing a ball, I lagged behind, breathing in the perfect weather, and the beautiful autumn colors.

 And sighed again at the passing of the seasons.  I will miss these spontaneous excursions, and the breaks by the waterside.

Oh, Autumn, how bittersweet you are. . .

Help!

I have come to a startling discovery:

Patrick and I are terrible at naming toys.  Like, ridiculously awful.  It's a miracle that Miles wound up with a decent name.  Let me give you some examples:

This:

is Bear.  This:

 is Horse.  And this:

is Pillow Pet.

We have two teddy bears named Bear, two dinosaurs named Dinosaur, two dolls named Baby, and assorted Duck, Whales, and so on.

We really suck at this whole toy-naming thing.

The Perfect Birthday Party

Lots of fun

An awesome cake.

Sword-fighting with the cousins.

Opening gifts

Eating cake.

Feeding cake to Mommy (or, at least the frosting). :)

Popsicles instead of ice cream.

Reading one of the many books.

Sword-fighting with Grandfather

Happy Birthday to my boy. :)

Friday Photos!

My sleepy boy.Photo by Shelby.

Cuddled in his jacket.
Photo by Shelby.

"Help, please?"

Love that boy.

Juggling

I've always been one to balance several activities at once.  In high school, I did Debate, Forensics, Theater, Orchestra, Choir, and Scholar's Bowl.*  All in the same year.  And once I graduated, I continued that lifestyle.  I worked full time, took a full load of college classes, and participated in whatever struck my fancy.  While I was student teaching, I took it easy, and balanced life as a newly-wed with all of the planning, teaching, and homework that goes with student teaching.  Once that was over, I searched until I found the Festival, which immediately consumed every waking hour of my life.  I had always been good at juggling, and Festival was no different.

When I was pregnant, I expected that adding a child to our crazy lives would add another 5-6 balls to the dozen or so I was already juggling - a difficult task, sure, but one that I would master in no time.  I was confident that before long, I would be able to balance Miles with the rest of my life.  To extend the metaphor, I imagined the cheers and applause as I seamlessly continued to juggle, no matter what life threw my way.

And then Miles was born.

Juggling ceased.  I dropped every ball except for Miles, and still, I couldn't keep up.  I could feel the balls pelting me in the head as one by one they came crashing down.  And then PPA decided to toss in a few bowling balls, just for giggles.  I huddled protectively over my baby, tried my best to pick up the pieces, and hid from everything else.

It took over 15 months, and some strong medications, to get rid of the bowling balls.  Since then, I have slowly, slowly, started to pick up the balls, one by one, and begun to juggle yet again.  The balance isn't perfect.  And I drop the ball far more than I once did.  But, I'm juggling.  Slowly, and with much effort and help, but I'm juggling.

And this time, I am cheering myself on.

*Yes, I'm a nerd.

Mommy's Little Bookworm

Bedtime tonight was a rather sweet sight.

Picture Miles, naked from head to toe, standing on the toilet brushing his teeth (after his bath).  See how grown up he looks brushing his front teeth, just like Mommy and Daddy?

Picture that tiny nude butt running, giggling, into his room.  Throwing himself on his bed, covering himself with pillows, so he could not be dressed.  Pretending to sleep, though his eyes were wide open.

Picture a freshly-cloth-diapered (but otherwise still naked) toddler, asking for "ook!"*

See him reaching for two of his favorites, clapping excitedly at his favorite parts.

Watch as he opens one, and begins trying to read it to me.  Fairly well, considering he's not even two.

And then, as I sang him lullabies, he drifted off to sleep, one book tucked under each arm.

*Yes, my child speaks Librarian.

Miles Update

I know I haven't been updating very often lately, and when I have, it has mostly been about me.  So, here is an update all about Miles!

Some things he has been up to:

• Hanging out with Linda while Mommy is at work.  They have been to various libraries, museums, and so many other places that Mommy can hardly keep up.
• Hanging out with Mommy at home.  We're doing a whole lot of nothing around here.  Some TV, lots of playtime, even some reading cuddles.  Oh, and tons of dancing silliness.
• Showing off for Grandpa Troy, Great-Grandpa, Aunt Tami, and Uncle Russ.

New things he can do:

• Pratfall.  He pretends to fall down, in hilarious ways, and then over-dramatically shakes it off, with a "Whoa!"
• Navigate the touch screen on my smart phone.  He knows how to turn it on, pull up the menu, and select a game to play.
• Drink out of an open cup.  Occasionally, he makes a mess, but that's part of being not-quite-two.
• Ride his push toys.  He's finally tall enough to make all of them go.  :)
• Go to bed without a fuss, even for naps.  We still have our difficulties from time to time, but for the most part, Miles is finally sleeping well.
• Take off his pants.  And then his diaper.  Not exactly a milestone I am celebrating.

Is it any wonder I've been too busy to write? :)

Bad Mommy Mondays

Instead of a list today, I have a story for you.

The setting: the Festival office, after hours; completely empty save for:

The cast: Maestro, Tobar, Karla, Miles, Me

As our story opens, Mommy is leaving the bathroom.  Miles tries to re-direct her outside, but she returns to her office to finish up a few things.


Miles throws himself dramatically on the floor, and begins a temper tantrum of Epic Proportions.  Mommy walks back to her office anyway, leaving the screaming child in the hall.


Maestro: What's wrong?
Mommy: Nothing, he just wants to go outside, and I said no.

Work-related conversation continues for several minutes, while screaming continues in the background.  Occasionally, conversation pauses long enough for everyone to listen and giggle quietly at the fact that this ridiculously dramatic child just won't let up.


Maestro: [putting his finger to his lips] Shhh. [He picks up a chair] No, no!  Don't do it!  Don't hurt the Mommy! [slams chair on floor, then grins, waiting for a reaction]

Miles: [continues screaming and crying, seeming to not even notice the theatrics]

A few more moments pass, with the screaming beginning to fade slightly as Miles winds down.  Just when it seems to be over, the screaming intensifies ten-fold, now worse than before.


Maestro: [whispering] Tobar, go slam the back door. [grinning mischievously]

Tobar stomps across the floor toward the back door.  Screaming begins to fade a little.


Maestro: Bye!  See you tomorrow!
Mommy: Bye!  Have a great evening!

Right on cue, the door slams.  A moment of utter silence, then


Miles: Mom-mom-mom-mom-mom-mom-mom!!!!! [He rounds the corner to find everyone - including Mommy - laughing hysterically.  He looks around, momentarily confused, then smiles uncertainly.] Ha?  Ha ha ha? Ha ha?

The laughter increases exponentially, and Miles joins in wholeheartedly, still not fully understanding.


End Scene

Friday Photos! - Nostalgia Edition

I'm realizing more and more how far we've come in the past 22 months, and it has left me feeling a bit sentimental.  In honor of that, here's a little stroll down memory lane.

Mama's Boy

As I type this, Miles is watching his morning cartoons, nibbling on a banana, and pulling on my toes.  He has spent much of the morning on my lap, or leaning against me, or playing with me.  Out of nowhere, Miles has suddenly become a Mama's boy.  And I love it.

For months, my heart would break just a little when Patrick came home from work.  Miles would get all excited and spend all evening ignoring my existence.  Which wouldn't have been much of a problem, except for the fact that he never got excited about spending time with me.  I would sit down on the floor to play with him, only to have him say, "Uh-uh" and turn away from me, or push me away.  It seemed as though I got to deal with all of the tantrums, and dirty diapers, and struggles, and got very little of the happy playtime.  I'm being slightly overdramatic about it,* but that's how I felt.

But, in the past two weeks, I have found myself in the delightful position of Miles' Favorite Person, a title I now happily share with Patrick.  In the mornings, Miles eats his breakfast and watches his cartoons while sitting on my lap or nearby.  At work, he plays at my feet, or sits in my lap for much of the day.  At home, he will pat the ground next to him, inviting me to play with him.  And everywhere we go, there are hugs, and cuddles, and sweet, slobbery toddler kisses.

I couldn't be happier.

*Big surprise, huh?

Toddler Love

I've mentioned once or twice how much I adore having a toddler.  I have reasons galore, and discover new ones every day.  Here is my discovery from yesterday.

I love that Miles has become so very affectionate.  For eight hours a day, I am his favorite person in the whole wide world, and he makes sure I know it.*  He will run to the opposite end of the office, then realize that I didn't follow, and yell, "Mom-mom?  Mom-mom? Ere go?" [Trans: Mommy?  Where did you go?]  Because my little adventurer likes to know that Mommy has his back.  When he goes on an adventure with Cameron, or one of his other Faire friends, he always returns with a big smile and a hug for me.  When he's playing quietly by himself (so rare, these days), he always takes a moment to come over and hug my knee, or ask for a kiss, or a high five.

And then, there are moments like yesterday.  We had gone to Arby's for lunch, and were sitting side-by-side in a booth.  We were nomming on roast beef, and jamming to the awesome 80's music playing overhead.  Suddenly, a laugh bubbled up at the sheer joy of the moment shared with my son.  "I love you," I told him.

He blew me a kiss.

Then, he came over and gave me a real kiss, right on the lips.

Then, he jumped twice, and threw himself on me, wrapping his arms around me, yelling, "Hug!"

My heart threatened to explode with love for my little boy.  Even now, as I type this, I am blinking back tears of happiness.

This is what motherhood should feel like.

*Once Daddy is home, Mommy ceases to exist.  Not a terrible thing, at all, some days. :)

Cloth

As in, diapers.

Yep, you heard that right.  We're using cloth diapers.  Not exclusively, but we are experimenting with them.

Oh, dear.  I feel a story coming on. (You're surprised, right?)

It all started when our friend Bethany announced that she plans to use cloth diapers on her little one who is due in August (Squee!!!).  Knowing that we would share kids from time to time, and that eventually, I'd probably have to change that cloth diaper, I decided to do some research and get over my extreme "Ewwww" reaction.  What I found surprised me.  A lot.

See, when I think cloth diapers, I think of these:

Square pieces of cloth, folded into strange designs using what could only be described as mad skills and occult knowledge.  And fastened with safety pins.  No way could I deal with that.  I fail at origami, and I poke myself with safety pins every time I open one. (No, seriously, I really do.  Sad, isn't it?)

What I discovered is that prefolds are only one option among several dozen.  Literally.  There are so many cloth diaper options out there that they now break them down into categories: prefolds, flats, pockets, fitteds, liners, all-in-ones, all-in-twos, covers, one-size, wool.  Honestly?  It's almost overwhelming.

So, I started by researching the specific type that Bethany had chosen: pocket diapers.

These are diapers designed to look and function almost exactly like disposables, complete with velcro - or snaps - that fasten over the waist, and elastic at the waist and thighs.  The big difference is that a pocket diaper has a cloth pocket (thus the Very Creative Name) in which you place a liner.  Wet diaper?  Remove the liner, wipe down the inside cloth, replace the liner, and you're good to go.  Dirty diaper?  Replace with new liner and cover, rinse the old ones, and toss in the washing machine.  Really not the hassle I had thought.

Around this time, Miles began peeing through every disposable diaper we tried.  Slowly, the thought began to bounce around my brain: what if cloth works better?  As though reading my mind, other mommies on my forum boards began to suggest using cloth overnight to help solve our problem.

Eventually, I got brave enough to share my change in attitude with Patrick, who (as usual) was incredibly supportive of my Latest Crazy Idea.  We decided that we should try one.  Buy one, test it out for a few nights, and see what happened.  Worst case scenario, we'd be out a few bucks (about the cost of a box of diapers, depending on the style we chose), but it was worth a try.

Re-enter Bethany, who graciously offered to loan us one of the cloth diapers she had received at her baby shower for us to try.  So, we did.  And it worked.  For the first time in weeks, Miles woke up in a dry bed.  With his diaper still on.

After a few days, and some experimentation, though, we were finding that they weren't quite the perfect fit for us.  The cover tends to smell really bad after even one heavy pee night, meaning that it had to be washed every day.  Fine for using them only at night, not so fine if we decided to use them more often than that.  Which I was slowly becoming convinced that I wanted to do.

It was only by accident that I discovered all-in-twos.  Basically, the cover is exactly like a pocket diaper, except without the pocket.  In other words, you simply lay the liner inside the cover and tuck it in on the ends, and you're good to go.  Diaper changes mean removing the wet/soiled liner, wiping down the inside of the cover, and putting in a new liner.  Much easier.  No stuffing (which we found to be way more time-consuming than you'd think).  And most importantly, no lingering odors.  After a bit of searching, we had found the diapers that seemed like the best fit for our lives.

And this has become a really long post, so we'll finish with part two tomorrow.  In the meantime, enjoy this adorable picture of a soft, cloth-diapered toddler bum. :)

Bad Mommy Mondays

I am a Bad Mommy.

But you already knew that.  That's why you're here.  Because you love reading this, secure in the knowledge that you are (or will be) better at this whole parenting thing than me. :)

I have given you lots of reasons that I am a Bad Mommy.  Lots of things I've been judged for.  So many insecurities, all tied up nicely into weekly lists.  You may also have noticed that these lists have become shorter, and less frequent.  That's because of: a) modern medicine doing its part to combat anxiety, b) a lack of time to devote to caring what other people think, and c) a realization that all parents make mistakes and choices that other people will judge.

That being said, I am still human (and female), so I still have tons of insecurities.

I am a stay-at-home mom.*  Popular culture has two ways of viewing moms like me, whose primary job is caring for our homes, and our children.  The first paints us as ugly, honorable martyrs, working our days away scrubbing floors, and wiping snotty noses, but always putting on a smile because we know we're 'doing what's best'.  The second depicts us as beautiful, lazy, free-loading wives who spend their days watching soaps and eating bon-bons while our children run wild without supervision.

Let me tell you this right now: neither of those pictures is even close to true.  And yet, both have elements of truth.  We do have the ugly job of scrubbing floors and wiping noses twenty-four hours a day.  Sometimes, we do it with a smile, and other days, we just want to throw all of the good China at the wall rather than wash it one more time.  Some days, we never get out of our pajamas, and spend the day trying to relax, and not getting much accomplished.  But, even on those days, we are rarely just sitting and relaxing, because, let's face it, children don't really allow that for long periods of time, unless they're up to something.

My point, I guess, is that each of us approaches motherhood in a different way, and yet, we are all just struggling to do our best.  I have to keep telling myself that on days when I feel like I'm getting nothing done.  When I feel like Miles hates me.  When I feel like the housework keeps piling up, and I just don't have the energy to even bother with it.  When I feel like a Bad Mommy.

If you've read this far, congratulations.  You have managed to wade through my self-doubt and analysis, hoping to find a point.  Well, here's what brought all of this up.

I'm in the process of enrolling Miles in daycare next year.  It's only one day a week, for five hours a day, but it makes me feel like a terrible mom.  Not because I'm putting him in daycare, but because I don't have to.  I know several working moms who hate dropping their kids off at daycare, and would love the opportunity to stay at home with them.  And here I am, enrolling my son in daycare so I can have a day off once a week.

There it is.  My primary reason for feeling like a Bad Mommy this week.  Lame, no?  Aren't you all disappointed that you bothered skimming that, now?  Well, you shouldn't be, because you're about to be rewarded with cuteness.

Hopefully, tomorrow's post will be better organized and less stream-of-consciousness. :)

*Goodness, how I hate that term, but that's another discussion for another time.

Friday Photos!

Painting with colored ice cubes.

Those lashes. <swoon>

That hair! Love.

Signing "open" because he had just opened the screen door.

Doing the hand motions for "Itsy-bitsy Spider"

Asking for "more."

Playing with his best buddy.

Pure bliss.