Zachary has found his new passion...burping. Oh it drives me batty. At first, it was really funny, but now he's just continually trying to burp. It's the worst at the table when there's a beverage near by. Don't give the kid a straw if he's ever eating at your table, you've had fair warning. He can suck in more air than our Dyson vacuum. Then he starts complaining of a belly ache, which of course is only relieved by belching.
Burp after burp, laugh after laugh....and the food still sits on the plate untouched. So a couple days ago I'd had my fill of it. I do have to give him credit, he was saying excuse me after each one, but oh my gosh the quantity was unreal. So I told him no more making burps at the table, not even one. To which he responded by...well...burping and laughing. I told him he could not burp at the table, if he wanted to play that game, he must get on the floor. He calmed down some, but it didn't take long to get into the same mode again. So I warned him that he would be in time out if he did it again. You guessed it, he responded with a burp and laughs. I quickly scooped him up and sat him on the stairs with the timer set for 2 minutes. Z didn't like that one bit, but he was out soon.
Back to the table for yet more burping. I told him that since the time out didn't work, he would get one swat on his bottom if he did it again. He didn't care, the burping was more important. I don't know how long it took to finally get through that meal, but we made it.
Fast forward to the next meal. I will take into consideration he was suffering from severe cabin fever, however; I was not ready to deal with table burping again. I was getting his plate ready and then noticed he was on all fours on the floor with his head pointed down....where he began burping on the floor. David and I were biting our tongues in laughter. Hey, at least he remembered that I'd said if wanted to burp, he had to do it on the floor, right?
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Yes, my son likes dolls
As a little girl, I played with trucks, got dirty, and on and on. So why is so hard for me to accept that my little boy likes to play with a doll? I've reaad all the positive takes on this...that it helps him learn to be a nurturer, teaches him empathy, yada, yada, yada. But still, there's some part of me that just wants to yell "BOYS DON'T PLAY WITH DOLLS" to little Z. But I suppose that would be a bit extreme and it'd probably just scare him anyway.
See, most of the dolls at church are naked. Over the years, children have stripped them down and somehow their clothes have been permanently separated from their bodies in the chaos that is preschool. We were in the Goodwill store the other night after our most recent trip to Asuka Japanese Steakhouse (Oh how I love Japanese food, but I digress). So I see a nice CLOTHED doll, brand new and its' only 50 cents! So heck yeah, I grabbed it up for the preschool rooms at church, along with a few other toys that still have tons of life in them for all these rambunctious 2 and 3-year-olds. Z played with it a little when we got home, calling it his baby, putting it to bed, etc. At least it's a boy doll..or that's what I told him since it's bald with a blue outfit on. I kept reminding him that we would take that baby to his room at church and he seemed to understand that, however; I now know that he did not understand that we would actually leave the baby there.
We took it this morning and let Z carry it to his room. When I went to get him after church, he was holding the baby. The teachers said he had cared for it all during the class time...putting it to bed, telling other kids to be quiet because his baby was sleeping, but also throwing it up really high in the air hmmmm. To be brief, we still have the doll; Z would not leave it at church...oh joy!
See, most of the dolls at church are naked. Over the years, children have stripped them down and somehow their clothes have been permanently separated from their bodies in the chaos that is preschool. We were in the Goodwill store the other night after our most recent trip to Asuka Japanese Steakhouse (Oh how I love Japanese food, but I digress). So I see a nice CLOTHED doll, brand new and its' only 50 cents! So heck yeah, I grabbed it up for the preschool rooms at church, along with a few other toys that still have tons of life in them for all these rambunctious 2 and 3-year-olds. Z played with it a little when we got home, calling it his baby, putting it to bed, etc. At least it's a boy doll..or that's what I told him since it's bald with a blue outfit on. I kept reminding him that we would take that baby to his room at church and he seemed to understand that, however; I now know that he did not understand that we would actually leave the baby there.
We took it this morning and let Z carry it to his room. When I went to get him after church, he was holding the baby. The teachers said he had cared for it all during the class time...putting it to bed, telling other kids to be quiet because his baby was sleeping, but also throwing it up really high in the air hmmmm. To be brief, we still have the doll; Z would not leave it at church...oh joy!
Friday, January 23, 2009
To spank or not to spank; yes I want your opinions
I was spanked when I was a child. I was yelled at and I yelled back. There I said it. I don't think I'm totally messed up because of it, but I always said I would do things differently.
That was until I had a strong-willed, stubborn little boy enter my life and no I'm not talking about my husband. I've always thought spanking was the "easy" and "lazy" way out in theory. I still do to a certain extent. Disciplining without spanking requires a lot of patience, resolve and creativity and that is a lot of work. Still, is there a time when spanking is the way to go? Does it depend on the child? Does it depend on the severity of the inappropriate behavior? I have not answered all these questions in my mind to a point where I feel comfortable with the way I discipline my child.
In the Bible, when it says to spare the rod is to spoil the child, it is referring to a literal rod or is that a symbol of strong discipline and guidance as in the shepherd using the rod to guide and steer the sheep in the direction that is right? I don't see a shepherd beating the sheep with the rod. Am I way off base here?
I've read books that interpret it one way or another and I don't know that I agree with either view completely. I guess I find myself somewhere in the middle and that is the reason for all the questions. How hard is too hard to spank? How many swats? What if the child doesn't respond to the spanking; do you keep spanking until they do? Or do you hope that they remember the swat next time before repeating the behavior? Oh see, I'm so confused. Maybe I'm making this more than it should be, but we're just having some serious power struggles with Z and he needs to learn to respect us.
It also bothers me to read about spanking and then immediately hugging the child and telling them you love them. Doesn't that send a mixed message?
I admit I have spanked as a last resort and when I'm at my wits end in coming up with a way to discipline that will actually get through to Z. What are your honest opinions on this? I'm not going to judge anyone for saying what you think. Everyone is in a unique situation with unique children and I know we all have different ways of discipline. I just need some input on what works for you and what doesn't and what you believe is wrong, right when it comes to spanking.
As a side note, I just can't wait to see what ad google pairs with this blog...could be seriously warped!
That was until I had a strong-willed, stubborn little boy enter my life and no I'm not talking about my husband. I've always thought spanking was the "easy" and "lazy" way out in theory. I still do to a certain extent. Disciplining without spanking requires a lot of patience, resolve and creativity and that is a lot of work. Still, is there a time when spanking is the way to go? Does it depend on the child? Does it depend on the severity of the inappropriate behavior? I have not answered all these questions in my mind to a point where I feel comfortable with the way I discipline my child.
In the Bible, when it says to spare the rod is to spoil the child, it is referring to a literal rod or is that a symbol of strong discipline and guidance as in the shepherd using the rod to guide and steer the sheep in the direction that is right? I don't see a shepherd beating the sheep with the rod. Am I way off base here?
I've read books that interpret it one way or another and I don't know that I agree with either view completely. I guess I find myself somewhere in the middle and that is the reason for all the questions. How hard is too hard to spank? How many swats? What if the child doesn't respond to the spanking; do you keep spanking until they do? Or do you hope that they remember the swat next time before repeating the behavior? Oh see, I'm so confused. Maybe I'm making this more than it should be, but we're just having some serious power struggles with Z and he needs to learn to respect us.
It also bothers me to read about spanking and then immediately hugging the child and telling them you love them. Doesn't that send a mixed message?
I admit I have spanked as a last resort and when I'm at my wits end in coming up with a way to discipline that will actually get through to Z. What are your honest opinions on this? I'm not going to judge anyone for saying what you think. Everyone is in a unique situation with unique children and I know we all have different ways of discipline. I just need some input on what works for you and what doesn't and what you believe is wrong, right when it comes to spanking.
As a side note, I just can't wait to see what ad google pairs with this blog...could be seriously warped!
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Cubbie Love...and boredom
I got permission from one of the other cubbie mom's to use her son's name in my blog today. I didn't get the name of the other one so I'll just use his first initial until she tells me it's okay.
First of all, Zachary is in Awana Cubbies at church. Yes, I know he wasn't old enough this year. But I prayed that we would find a way out of the nursery room we all despised at the time and God answered my prayer in a unique way. We were told Zachary could come to cubbies a year early if one or both of us helped in his class. David stepped up to the plate and all is well. Zach is thriving in cubbies...repeating his verses like all the other kids who are a bit older than him.
After I finish singing in church, I usually go down and join the cubbie class and help out where I can. Usually that means running interference between the kids and trying to get them to stay in their chairs during story time, which is nearly impossible. Sometimes those kids totally crack me up with their looks, phrases, attitudes, etc. Last night, Zachary got a taste of his own medicine. As I've blogged before, he's very into saying "I don't love you," especially if he's in an onery mood or just feeling his age I suppose.
During story time, little Z was sitting by Boston Parker and they were mildly annoying one another pushing and leaning and just being little boys. All the sudden, Z starts leaning and scooting closer to Boston and he looks at him in the eye and says "I just love you; I love you Boston." He kept saying it over and over, all the while not quite understanding Boston's response of "No, you don't, nooooooo." It was really hard for me not to laugh. Z kept looking at me in complete confusion. I told him that now he knows how it feels to tell someone you love them and for them to be "mean" back. He just lowered his sad little head and said "yeah." Didn't take long and they were buddies again, back to running around the room and laughing. A while later, they were sitting beside each other playing with blocks and when I looked down they both had an arm around each other's shoulder. It was too cute. Of course, when I pointed it out, they both quickly appear to not know what I was talking about.
Another early-to-start-cubbie is MD. This kid melts my heart and he's quite the little comic most nights. Last night was no exception. During the story time, MD sat sideways and leaned against the back of his chair with one arm and laid his head half-way down. He then began to fake snore and I about lost it. I felt sorry for the reader, but geez it was hilarious. MD is going to be a pistol in school; I see a future class clown in the making :) What do you think Mia?
First of all, Zachary is in Awana Cubbies at church. Yes, I know he wasn't old enough this year. But I prayed that we would find a way out of the nursery room we all despised at the time and God answered my prayer in a unique way. We were told Zachary could come to cubbies a year early if one or both of us helped in his class. David stepped up to the plate and all is well. Zach is thriving in cubbies...repeating his verses like all the other kids who are a bit older than him.
After I finish singing in church, I usually go down and join the cubbie class and help out where I can. Usually that means running interference between the kids and trying to get them to stay in their chairs during story time, which is nearly impossible. Sometimes those kids totally crack me up with their looks, phrases, attitudes, etc. Last night, Zachary got a taste of his own medicine. As I've blogged before, he's very into saying "I don't love you," especially if he's in an onery mood or just feeling his age I suppose.
During story time, little Z was sitting by Boston Parker and they were mildly annoying one another pushing and leaning and just being little boys. All the sudden, Z starts leaning and scooting closer to Boston and he looks at him in the eye and says "I just love you; I love you Boston." He kept saying it over and over, all the while not quite understanding Boston's response of "No, you don't, nooooooo." It was really hard for me not to laugh. Z kept looking at me in complete confusion. I told him that now he knows how it feels to tell someone you love them and for them to be "mean" back. He just lowered his sad little head and said "yeah." Didn't take long and they were buddies again, back to running around the room and laughing. A while later, they were sitting beside each other playing with blocks and when I looked down they both had an arm around each other's shoulder. It was too cute. Of course, when I pointed it out, they both quickly appear to not know what I was talking about.
Another early-to-start-cubbie is MD. This kid melts my heart and he's quite the little comic most nights. Last night was no exception. During the story time, MD sat sideways and leaned against the back of his chair with one arm and laid his head half-way down. He then began to fake snore and I about lost it. I felt sorry for the reader, but geez it was hilarious. MD is going to be a pistol in school; I see a future class clown in the making :) What do you think Mia?
Saturday, January 10, 2009
You've got to let them fly...solo.
Today was the big day. The beginning of a new era at Legacy Gymnastics. You see, my son moved up to the three -year old "little foals" class. The past two sessions, the teachers had the luxury of either me or David chasing little flash around the gym and they thought he was so cute and talented. I'm wondering if Miss Amber's opinion didn't change today when she was the one chasing the flash and mommy and daddy were watching from the rafters?
Things started out okay; there ended up being only 3 kids in the class, which makes it a little easier on the teacher...but not much. They started out on the trampolines, pit and the "slide." Zach loves those things so she had no problem keeping him in line and nearby. Then it came time for stretching. Miss Amber plopped the kids up on a high mat and fully intended to get their muscles all stretched and ready to o, but Zachary saw it a an opportunity to stretch her patience. He kept jumping down and running off, all the while laughing and calling for Miss Amber to get him. They had a little heart to heart and I thought he was good to go - alas it lasted a full 2 mins or so. Zachary kept jumping and running all over the place and soon got one of the little girls to join in his antics. He eventually ended up in time out on the balance beam a few times, but he made it through. I told Amber it might serve her well to make him run suicides for about 20 minutes before he has to start the actual work. She thought it was funny, but she wasn't too distressed and chalked it up to his first day sans mom and dad. We'll see what she says when the antics persist well into this 10-week session. One down...nine to go...wow.
Things started out okay; there ended up being only 3 kids in the class, which makes it a little easier on the teacher...but not much. They started out on the trampolines, pit and the "slide." Zach loves those things so she had no problem keeping him in line and nearby. Then it came time for stretching. Miss Amber plopped the kids up on a high mat and fully intended to get their muscles all stretched and ready to o, but Zachary saw it a an opportunity to stretch her patience. He kept jumping down and running off, all the while laughing and calling for Miss Amber to get him. They had a little heart to heart and I thought he was good to go - alas it lasted a full 2 mins or so. Zachary kept jumping and running all over the place and soon got one of the little girls to join in his antics. He eventually ended up in time out on the balance beam a few times, but he made it through. I told Amber it might serve her well to make him run suicides for about 20 minutes before he has to start the actual work. She thought it was funny, but she wasn't too distressed and chalked it up to his first day sans mom and dad. We'll see what she says when the antics persist well into this 10-week session. One down...nine to go...wow.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
The Freakin Scary Dryer and other joys of the season
So it's 2009. Big Deal. We're getting a new president, I have a really good excuse to go back to Texas at the end of January and Zachary's third birthday party planning has begun.Okay now that I'm done crying about the first and last things in that sentence, I can write this post.
We had a very good trip to Texas and Oklahoma over Christmas and New Year's. It was so nice to escape the cold, dreary, seasonal-depression inducing Kentucky winter climate for a bit. It was SUNNY and warm in Texas and Oklahoma and we had many days where the kids just played outside with light jackets or no jackets at all...it was bliss. And now since we've returned, the sun has yet to show it's face in the bluegrass this year...joy, joy. I almost can't stand it...seriously. I need a SAD light or something, sheesh!
We had plenty of humorous moments while we visited with friends and family during our travels. It occurs to me that God has a huge sense of humor and he shows it to us mostly through our children's innocence and antics. He's also constantly trying to use some of those antics to build in me a patient spirit; I've got a long way to go folks.
Humor and patience-building are combined in Zachary's love for vacuums. The child is truly obsessed with them. He can pretend virtually anything is a vacuum when he's not near a real one. The vacuum at home used to scare him to tears. But when he met the little, red, child-sized vacuum at the consignment store a year ago, he fell in love and couldn't leave the store without it. We thought it was cute and so we spent the $3 and indulged him. It caused such fits the more and more he played with it that it finally had to go bye bye. Unfortunately, a few months ago, Zachary found the vacuum as we were cleaning out a closet and the cycle began again.
Now most kids sit and watch TV with a lovey like a teddy bear or a lamby or something soft. Not my son; he's often seen sitting in front of the tube with his arm wrapped around his vacuum. He wakes up talking about the vacuum and gets very out of sorts when the vacuum is not in the closet it's supposed to be in. I have actually begun to despise the vacuum because he won't stop talking about it. Seriously! It's beyond normal right?
So he got over his fear of the sound the vacuum makes and even asked to use the big one. We thought that was great. But I guess other things with similar noises have to earn their place in his safety-loving world. Take hand dryers in public restrooms for instance. Most of them are reasonally quiet, but then there is the Xcelerator...the one that blows the skin around on your body with it's extreme noise and pressure. There was one of those in the bathroom at a Ryan's in Bowling Green where we stopped on our return trip. Granted the Cracker Barrell's dryer would've been quieter, but the line was out the door and this was our only choice. We talked about the dryer before I turned it on. I told him it would be very loud. He nodded his head and stood on the other side of the room. When I turned it on, Zachary went nuts screaming, trembling and crying. I felt sad for him and so I picked him up and all was well.
We were heading for the car when he looked at David and said. "Daddy, that was a freakin scary dryer." We knew we should not have laughed, but all attempts to stiffle the giggles were in vain. It was just so funny to hear that from him. He proceeded to get on the phone to my mother, where he changed the description from freakin, scary dryer to freakin, stupid dyer.....nice. Then my mom of course gives me the lecture about "you really shouldn't let him talk that way." Really?
We had a very good trip to Texas and Oklahoma over Christmas and New Year's. It was so nice to escape the cold, dreary, seasonal-depression inducing Kentucky winter climate for a bit. It was SUNNY and warm in Texas and Oklahoma and we had many days where the kids just played outside with light jackets or no jackets at all...it was bliss. And now since we've returned, the sun has yet to show it's face in the bluegrass this year...joy, joy. I almost can't stand it...seriously. I need a SAD light or something, sheesh!
We had plenty of humorous moments while we visited with friends and family during our travels. It occurs to me that God has a huge sense of humor and he shows it to us mostly through our children's innocence and antics. He's also constantly trying to use some of those antics to build in me a patient spirit; I've got a long way to go folks.
Humor and patience-building are combined in Zachary's love for vacuums. The child is truly obsessed with them. He can pretend virtually anything is a vacuum when he's not near a real one. The vacuum at home used to scare him to tears. But when he met the little, red, child-sized vacuum at the consignment store a year ago, he fell in love and couldn't leave the store without it. We thought it was cute and so we spent the $3 and indulged him. It caused such fits the more and more he played with it that it finally had to go bye bye. Unfortunately, a few months ago, Zachary found the vacuum as we were cleaning out a closet and the cycle began again.
Now most kids sit and watch TV with a lovey like a teddy bear or a lamby or something soft. Not my son; he's often seen sitting in front of the tube with his arm wrapped around his vacuum. He wakes up talking about the vacuum and gets very out of sorts when the vacuum is not in the closet it's supposed to be in. I have actually begun to despise the vacuum because he won't stop talking about it. Seriously! It's beyond normal right?
So he got over his fear of the sound the vacuum makes and even asked to use the big one. We thought that was great. But I guess other things with similar noises have to earn their place in his safety-loving world. Take hand dryers in public restrooms for instance. Most of them are reasonally quiet, but then there is the Xcelerator...the one that blows the skin around on your body with it's extreme noise and pressure. There was one of those in the bathroom at a Ryan's in Bowling Green where we stopped on our return trip. Granted the Cracker Barrell's dryer would've been quieter, but the line was out the door and this was our only choice. We talked about the dryer before I turned it on. I told him it would be very loud. He nodded his head and stood on the other side of the room. When I turned it on, Zachary went nuts screaming, trembling and crying. I felt sad for him and so I picked him up and all was well.
We were heading for the car when he looked at David and said. "Daddy, that was a freakin scary dryer." We knew we should not have laughed, but all attempts to stiffle the giggles were in vain. It was just so funny to hear that from him. He proceeded to get on the phone to my mother, where he changed the description from freakin, scary dryer to freakin, stupid dyer.....nice. Then my mom of course gives me the lecture about "you really shouldn't let him talk that way." Really?
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