Friday, April 28, 2006
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Why my son won't go to University
A.K.A. I am a neurotic Mother
Someone innocently asked me if Owen had started rolling over yet.
Rolling over??? Huh?
I didn't know he was supposed to do that. Well I guessed that eventually he would be able to but I didn't know we should already be in training for it.
And all of the sudden, all my dreams of a lawyer/ NFL player/ part-time doctor for a son were dashed. He was going to be behind all his peers. The other babies in the "Mommy and Me" class were going to mock him as they casually rolled over- both ways! He was going to be three and still scooting around on his butt, refusing to walk. And worst of all he was going to refuse to potty train! I could see it now: Showing up at kindergarten with a sheepish look and a diaper bag over my shoulder.
I never imagined I would be one of those mom's who compared her child's progress to all the other kids. (Why I thought I wouldn't be neurotic is beyond me. It should have been obvious and inevitable!) But I guess I thought I would be one of those casual mom's who proudly exclaimed that he will do things in his own time and that I (read society, thank you very much) shouldn't be trying to conform him at such a young age: Owen is a free spirit. But of course, in my fantasy he was also casually reading Shakespeare on the potty at 18 months.
I guess I just really didn't want to answer the inevitable questions that always come; "So is he rolling over/walking/talking/composing symphonies yet?". And then I would have to say no and feel like I had to make excuses for Owen ("No he is too busy learning the Periodical Chart"). I of course realize that EVERY baby moves at their own pace and that the developmental milestones are just guidelines. But oh it's nice to have an over achiever!!
So after tearing up his Mensa application and putting away the "Baby Einstein" movies (for the 9 months old- trying to get ahead there too), I resigned my self to having to wait for him to figure things out at his own pace.
And then he rolled over.
HE IS A GENIUS!! I was so excited I screamed so much he almost cried. Realizing he may never do it again if I freaked him out, I quickly stopped screaming. He has done it a total of 8 times since Monday! Only one way- but please, don't pressure him. He is mastering the one way. He wants to make sure it's executed perfectly before moving along to the other direction. He is a perfectionist. Kids eh? All ways try to keep up with the baby Jones'...
I think I can tape the Mensa application back together. And I am pretty sure I saw something about early LSAT prep tests too...
Someone innocently asked me if Owen had started rolling over yet.
Rolling over??? Huh?
I didn't know he was supposed to do that. Well I guessed that eventually he would be able to but I didn't know we should already be in training for it.
And all of the sudden, all my dreams of a lawyer/ NFL player/ part-time doctor for a son were dashed. He was going to be behind all his peers. The other babies in the "Mommy and Me" class were going to mock him as they casually rolled over- both ways! He was going to be three and still scooting around on his butt, refusing to walk. And worst of all he was going to refuse to potty train! I could see it now: Showing up at kindergarten with a sheepish look and a diaper bag over my shoulder.
I never imagined I would be one of those mom's who compared her child's progress to all the other kids. (Why I thought I wouldn't be neurotic is beyond me. It should have been obvious and inevitable!) But I guess I thought I would be one of those casual mom's who proudly exclaimed that he will do things in his own time and that I (read society, thank you very much) shouldn't be trying to conform him at such a young age: Owen is a free spirit. But of course, in my fantasy he was also casually reading Shakespeare on the potty at 18 months.
I guess I just really didn't want to answer the inevitable questions that always come; "So is he rolling over/walking/talking/composing symphonies yet?". And then I would have to say no and feel like I had to make excuses for Owen ("No he is too busy learning the Periodical Chart"). I of course realize that EVERY baby moves at their own pace and that the developmental milestones are just guidelines. But oh it's nice to have an over achiever!!
So after tearing up his Mensa application and putting away the "Baby Einstein" movies (for the 9 months old- trying to get ahead there too), I resigned my self to having to wait for him to figure things out at his own pace.
And then he rolled over.
HE IS A GENIUS!! I was so excited I screamed so much he almost cried. Realizing he may never do it again if I freaked him out, I quickly stopped screaming. He has done it a total of 8 times since Monday! Only one way- but please, don't pressure him. He is mastering the one way. He wants to make sure it's executed perfectly before moving along to the other direction. He is a perfectionist. Kids eh? All ways try to keep up with the baby Jones'...
I think I can tape the Mensa application back together. And I am pretty sure I saw something about early LSAT prep tests too...
Things that make Owen laugh
- The words: Pee Pee; Poo poo; PeePeePooPoo; Tick; Da-Da (real sophisticated)
- Telling him "Paula Abdul is Drunk" (you know it's true!)
- Holding his nose so he can blow out and make snorting noises (charming)
- Signing "la cuccaracha" (out of tune and off key a la Cris)
- Doing push ups
- Him sneezing
- Him coughing
- Raised eye brows, like Groucho Marx
- He likes to be startled- but a little too much and he crosses over to crying
Hence the next posting!
Things that make Owen Cry
- Singing "Cover of the Rolling Stone" By Dr. John (apparently I don't have a singing voice)
- Yawning very big and loudly
- The jingle for "Yahoo!" (just someone yoddling "Yahoo"- very scary)
Apparently this list is a lot shorter...Not a bad thing! Of course there are other things that make him cry, but they aren't funny (when he's tired, hungry or poopy- a real laugh riot).
Sunday, April 23, 2006
Saturday, April 22, 2006
Signs I am not ready for a toddler
A.K.A An early "Thank you" for Mother's Day
I recently looked after a great little 2 year old to help an old family friend out. Liam was a great kid but boy it was abunduntly clear I am not ready nor equipped for a toddler. I realize I still have 19 months to prepare and to figure Owen out. I will need the 19 months to be physically fit to handle this. I think these are the key areas I need to work on:
1) I can handle the three B's easily: blood, barf and bowel movements (although the last is questionable: see point 3). I have cleaned up my share of messes. But for some reason give me a kid's hand covered in cake, spaghetti and milk (and have them lick it) and I loose it. For those of you who know me, I have an aversion to foods that get soggy which should not, such as milk in cereal, crackers in soup, ice cream on cake...So I think this related to this. I think I can work a deal with Cris that I continue to handle the three B's if he washes hands and faces.
2) I don't have pants with pockets big enough! I need overalls to store toys, soothers, snacks, and Kleenex! At least my car is big enough for it all.
3) Oh the poop. I managed to make it quite a while without having to change a toddler diaper. But when it came, it was hard to miss. Earlier, I foolishly wondered to myself if "it" would be all over the place or if it would stay compact and disposable. Silly woman.
If that isn't an incentive to get Owen potty trained asap I don't know what is.
4) My house is so not kid proof. I never realized how tempting pillows could be to toss and jump on. I notice all the sharp corners now. I have way to many glass wedding gifts. I don't have a good cleaner to take sticky finger prints off walls, electronics, dogs...
Mother's are incredibly organized and amazing people! And I certainly don't claim to be one. I am still a "mummy": a cute little woman running around with an adorable and portable baby. A baby who still sleeps 15 hours a day and rarely cries. When he does its like a little lamb...Just a tiny little bleat. And still adorable. My child has very simple needs and is easy to help. I admire the women who have diaper bags down to an art. Who have toys in every pocket and can still chase after a child 8 hours into the day. The women who know exactly what their child wants and how to fix/make/find it. These women who know how to discipline their children and aren't afraid to do so in public. The women who can kiss it better. Mothers understand the babble that are early words (and I still only hear a few mumbled vowels). And especially those women who do all this after a day at work.
My god, it is a gift. Not only to be able to do it but also a gift to all the children out there who are better for it- like me! Best wishes for the mummys. And God Bless the mothers.
I recently looked after a great little 2 year old to help an old family friend out. Liam was a great kid but boy it was abunduntly clear I am not ready nor equipped for a toddler. I realize I still have 19 months to prepare and to figure Owen out. I will need the 19 months to be physically fit to handle this. I think these are the key areas I need to work on:
1) I can handle the three B's easily: blood, barf and bowel movements (although the last is questionable: see point 3). I have cleaned up my share of messes. But for some reason give me a kid's hand covered in cake, spaghetti and milk (and have them lick it) and I loose it. For those of you who know me, I have an aversion to foods that get soggy which should not, such as milk in cereal, crackers in soup, ice cream on cake...So I think this related to this. I think I can work a deal with Cris that I continue to handle the three B's if he washes hands and faces.
2) I don't have pants with pockets big enough! I need overalls to store toys, soothers, snacks, and Kleenex! At least my car is big enough for it all.
3) Oh the poop. I managed to make it quite a while without having to change a toddler diaper. But when it came, it was hard to miss. Earlier, I foolishly wondered to myself if "it" would be all over the place or if it would stay compact and disposable. Silly woman.
If that isn't an incentive to get Owen potty trained asap I don't know what is.
4) My house is so not kid proof. I never realized how tempting pillows could be to toss and jump on. I notice all the sharp corners now. I have way to many glass wedding gifts. I don't have a good cleaner to take sticky finger prints off walls, electronics, dogs...
Mother's are incredibly organized and amazing people! And I certainly don't claim to be one. I am still a "mummy": a cute little woman running around with an adorable and portable baby. A baby who still sleeps 15 hours a day and rarely cries. When he does its like a little lamb...Just a tiny little bleat. And still adorable. My child has very simple needs and is easy to help. I admire the women who have diaper bags down to an art. Who have toys in every pocket and can still chase after a child 8 hours into the day. The women who know exactly what their child wants and how to fix/make/find it. These women who know how to discipline their children and aren't afraid to do so in public. The women who can kiss it better. Mothers understand the babble that are early words (and I still only hear a few mumbled vowels). And especially those women who do all this after a day at work.
My god, it is a gift. Not only to be able to do it but also a gift to all the children out there who are better for it- like me! Best wishes for the mummys. And God Bless the mothers.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Attack of the teething monster
We have a little corner of a canine tooth poking through and some bright white teeth under the gums. And of course we are a little bit miserable at night. Top it up with our first cold and stuffy nose, and we are one fun baby!
Cute, fat and smiling
The high chair is great. He loves to be sitting up and watching everyone eat and hang out. We have yet to start eating solids ourselves (by that I mean him not Cris and I). By the way, Owen weighs 17 lbs and is 68 cm long.
Catching up on our reading. Don't worry I am still working him on the remote control exercises too.
Just hanging out, being cute. What else is new.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Diaper Dooty: The Sequel
CANNONBALL RUNS
Since the weather seems to be off and on, Cris and I take advantage of every good day to get Owen outdoors. So last Saturday, we went for a lovely morning walk along the Aberoteum. This little jaunt included me breastfeeding on a picnic table, where I think I froze my nipples and stomach, but at least the bicyclist got a "picturesque ride". Afterwards, we decide to head down town for a little lunch.
On the way there, the old familiar rumbling begin, followed by that not so sweet baby smell. We had decided to go to lunch at Zak's just to have the Deep Fried Mars bar for dessert. Zaks is great for a greasy spoon but questionable for diaper changes. We didn't think they even had a change table in their washrooms. So I had the great idea of just using the front passenger seat of our car.
So Cris lays out all the items and we recline the seat back as much as it can, but it's not quite flat (it hits the baby seat in the back). I, being the smart mother, state we must put Owen with his head on the actual back part and his bum on the seat (as if he really were seating in the seat) because of course the other way he is liable to push off the seat and end up on the floor. All is going well untill we have to wipe the bum. I lift his legs up and he starts wailing away. What could possibly be wrong?? Well any normal mother would have pointed out two things:
First, if you looked carefully, you would see I was folding my son exactly in half, like a taco. And apparently babies don't like to kiss their knees. So no gymnast here.
Second, his knees weren't the only thing he was going to be kissing. The "bits and pieces" were a little too close to his face. And based on history, we know how disasterous that can be.
So we flipped him around and just made sure he didn't fall off. He had managed to poop all up the front this time. No idea how. But of course, we have to change the shirt. So here we are, our little guy is sitting in his diaper naked on our front seat. I start to put on a new shirt and think he still smells of poop. We check all around and can't find anything. We then realise the shirt that we have pulled over his head is a dirty one from God knows when. At least it's dry (if you catch my drift). So we undress him again and put on another clean shirt. We managed to get him dressed and survive another day. And it turns out Zaks had a change table in the washroom. And the Mars bar wasn't that good, but only because I remembered I don't like Mars bars.
So Mommy demerit points deducted for poor wiping, bad attire and a 6$ melted chocolate bar.
Since the weather seems to be off and on, Cris and I take advantage of every good day to get Owen outdoors. So last Saturday, we went for a lovely morning walk along the Aberoteum. This little jaunt included me breastfeeding on a picnic table, where I think I froze my nipples and stomach, but at least the bicyclist got a "picturesque ride". Afterwards, we decide to head down town for a little lunch.
On the way there, the old familiar rumbling begin, followed by that not so sweet baby smell. We had decided to go to lunch at Zak's just to have the Deep Fried Mars bar for dessert. Zaks is great for a greasy spoon but questionable for diaper changes. We didn't think they even had a change table in their washrooms. So I had the great idea of just using the front passenger seat of our car.
So Cris lays out all the items and we recline the seat back as much as it can, but it's not quite flat (it hits the baby seat in the back). I, being the smart mother, state we must put Owen with his head on the actual back part and his bum on the seat (as if he really were seating in the seat) because of course the other way he is liable to push off the seat and end up on the floor. All is going well untill we have to wipe the bum. I lift his legs up and he starts wailing away. What could possibly be wrong?? Well any normal mother would have pointed out two things:
First, if you looked carefully, you would see I was folding my son exactly in half, like a taco. And apparently babies don't like to kiss their knees. So no gymnast here.
Second, his knees weren't the only thing he was going to be kissing. The "bits and pieces" were a little too close to his face. And based on history, we know how disasterous that can be.
So we flipped him around and just made sure he didn't fall off. He had managed to poop all up the front this time. No idea how. But of course, we have to change the shirt. So here we are, our little guy is sitting in his diaper naked on our front seat. I start to put on a new shirt and think he still smells of poop. We check all around and can't find anything. We then realise the shirt that we have pulled over his head is a dirty one from God knows when. At least it's dry (if you catch my drift). So we undress him again and put on another clean shirt. We managed to get him dressed and survive another day. And it turns out Zaks had a change table in the washroom. And the Mars bar wasn't that good, but only because I remembered I don't like Mars bars.
So Mommy demerit points deducted for poor wiping, bad attire and a 6$ melted chocolate bar.
Friday, April 07, 2006
How could you not love this face???
I blame the shutter speed on the camera. It is too slow. it can take an adorable moment and turn it into "Dear god!"
In order to redeem my baby's cuteness a few good photos follow.
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
More baby torture
Ok. So we had a great few days of sun and now we have snow. I think its just evil.
Owen and I went out to the park, which became a little bit tortureous for Owen. Apparently, the sun was so bright. He is squinting in all the photos. But I still think he looks cute. We should all look so cute while being tortured. He thought the swing was ok. Except every time I pushed him the sun got in his eyes so it was short lived joy.
Please bring back the good weather. Interesting how the weather teased us and has gone bad. And at the same time Owen was sleeping through the night and now is not. I seriously wonder if there is a connection...Not that Owen controls the weather or vice versa. I mean he's good but not that good. Maybe next week will be good both day and night.
And yes I am aware he needs some shoes. Working on it.
Owen and I went out to the park, which became a little bit tortureous for Owen. Apparently, the sun was so bright. He is squinting in all the photos. But I still think he looks cute. We should all look so cute while being tortured. He thought the swing was ok. Except every time I pushed him the sun got in his eyes so it was short lived joy.
Please bring back the good weather. Interesting how the weather teased us and has gone bad. And at the same time Owen was sleeping through the night and now is not. I seriously wonder if there is a connection...Not that Owen controls the weather or vice versa. I mean he's good but not that good. Maybe next week will be good both day and night.
And yes I am aware he needs some shoes. Working on it.
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