Tag Archives: toddler

Kids Say the Darnedest Things

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We all know that kids parrot what they hear. So if you swear, be prepared for embarrassing situations with your toddler. If you say mean things about relatives, your spouse, or your boss, be ready for those things to come right out of your child’s mouth at the most inopportune times.

When you have more than one child, the younger one doesn’t just have you to learn bad things from. This is a problem. Sometimes S says things in public that I’m certain people assume I say in private. But I don’t. She’s learned them from L.

For example:

One of S’s favorite things to say to me when she’s mad is, “When we get home, I’m going to hit you!”

This totally sounds like something a parent might say to a child in a moment of teeth-clenched public rage. But I never said it! I do plenty of bad things as a mom, but I don’t hit my kids. Or threaten to hit them. (I have pinched though.)

This is something she’s learned from L. He says things like this to her all the time. Because he’s a menacing jerk. But he doesn’t usually follow through. He just likes to make her scared and cry. (See previous menacing jerk comment.)

How can I make it known that I did not say this to her? I feel like I need a t-shirt that says, “Please excuse my daughter. She has a bad big brother.”

 

WTF Tapas

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S rolled off of a chair to the floor and started crying.

me: Did you hurt yourself?

S: (sobs and nods)

me: Where did you get hurt?

S: (through tears, pointing) Over there on the floor.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………….

In the car:

S: I don’t feel good.

me: What feels bad?

S: My eyes feel very cold.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I think my son is a burgeoning psychopath. He’s disturbingly interested in violence. Actual conversation between my children in the car:

L: When I get home later I’m going to hit you.

S: No!

L: Would you rather I pinch you?

S: No!

L: It’s your choice. I can pinch you or hit you. Which do you want?

S: Hit me.

L: OK. With my hand or with this water bottle?

S: With your hand.

WTF? The entire time I was saying “L, stop it!” and “S, don’t answer that!” to no avail. What is wrong with him? And worse, why would she make the choice?

…………………………………………………………………………………………

Conversation I’ve had with S, more than once:

me: I love you.

S: I love you too.

me: (heart melts)

S: You are my mommy.

me: You are my daughter.

S: You are my daughter too.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

My Public Service Announcements

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In case you don’t have an internet IV running through your veins 24/7 like some people I know, ahem, you may not have heard of Blinkbooks. These are short, visual brain candies covering a variety of topics from fashion to children’s stories to humor. I’ve been lucky enough to write several of these and I thought I’d share a couple I’m particularly fond of.

First up is a warning for parents of girls:

Naturally, I needed to warn parents of boys as well:

Next I was inspired by Honest Mom‘s admission that she sees cute babies and her ovaries start stabbing her better sense and judgement. I know this feeling and think it’s important to remind people everywhere what it’s really like to have a baby:

So these are what public service announcements look like when they come from Motherhood, WTF? You’re welcome.

We’ll Look Back at This and Laugh One Day (if we survive)

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I’ve been stressed lately about our upcoming trip to New Zealand. I can’t get my head around the mind-blowing 31 hours it will take to get us there. As far as crazy is concerned, I think I’ve been handling myself quite well considering how crazy anxious I am about the whole ordeal. I’ve gotten to a weird place beyond stress and anxiety. It’s kind of peaceful here, even if it’s in a One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest sort of way.

I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

  • I just sent an email to my doctor asking if a person can take a Xanax and an Ambien within 24 hours and still wake up alive on the other end. (In related news, my doctor now thinks I’m a junkie.)
  • I have Melatonin which I plan on giving to my kids around hour 15.
  • I have 2 iPhones, an iTouch and an iPad loaded with games, movies, books and music.
  • I have 2 Leapsters and a handful of new games.
  • I have bought out the dollar store and the dollar section of Target so I have every cheap, lead-based toy out there.
  • I have crayons and stickers and lollipops.
  • I have crafts and wind-up toys and tiny toys and cuddly toys.
  • I have eye masks and ear plugs. Enough of the latter to hand out to surrounding passengers if need be.
  • I have pajamas, pull-ups, and changes of clothes.
  • I have sippy cups and water bottles and wet wipes and hand sanitizer.
  • I have even been practicing making balloon animals and I’m bringing all related gear for minutes of entertainment during long layovers! (I did say I was going crazy, remember?)

My carry-on luggage might need to be packed by an MIT engineer.

My image of how the trip will go involves T and I walking miles in airports carrying our own bags, the kid’s bags, and each of us with a crying, kicking, screaming kid under an arm. I envision sweat, assorted potty accidents, tears, drool, food stains, and blood and/or vomit saturating my hair and clothes. I can see little feet kicking seats. I can hear crying jags complete with boneless children on the ground yelling embarrassing things. I can feel my annoyance with everyone and everything, especially T because he just isn’t me. I can’t even bring myself to picture the horrors that will go down in the planes’ bathrooms.

Basically, I’m expecting the worst. If I’m not detained at customs for being too dirty, crazy, and mean to enter New Zealand, it’s a win. If my 4-year-old doesn’t end up in an air marshal’s handcuffs at any point, it’s a win. If any of us manage any sleep at any point in our journey, it’s a win. If my body can tolerate a mix of Xanax and Ambien and stress and sleep deprivation without landing me in a hospital or morgue, it’s a win.

My expectations are low. If I’m not pleasantly surprised, then there stands a good chance that we are inadvertently moving to New Zealand because I will not face the journey home. Or I’ll come home in a straight jacket.

Any which way it goes down, I’ll take notes and blog about it when I get a chance. I will not be able to blog consistently, but I promise that I will not suffer in vain. We will get comedy out of this by God!

S-isms Solved

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You guys are getting better at decoding S! Many of you got the song (#3) and a few also got #’s 1, 5 and 6. I figured out what #2 is!! She said it again yesterday. None of you were close.

  1. Gop!
    • Stop! This she says with conviction while holding her hand up in front of her like a traffic cop or a Supreme.
  2. Gatka da yee-ess gor off?
    • This is the one that was a mystery to even me. When she originally said it I knew what she meant and wrote it down without translation. When I went back to post it, the meaning was lost to me. Until she said it again yesterday. A discarded toy did that thing that toys do – it made a noise after 3 minutes or so to see if it could lure a child back to its noisy side. The toy in question was L’s Leapster, which both my kids call a DS. S was asking if that sound was the DS turning off. “That sound the DS turn off?”
  3. We bik dee gitty oh walkie woal. 
    • We built this city on rock and roll!
  4. Ging eekie eekie gong. 
    • Sing Twinkle Twinkle song. We sing this together every night. S’s version is: Eekie, eekie, eekie tar. How wa wa wa wa wa are. Uppa Uppa kie so high. Like a eekie in da kie. Eekie, eekie, eekie tar. How wa wa wa wa wa are. 
  5. Me go how put gope on.
    • Me know how to put soap on.
  6. It’s too gunny ow guys.
    • It’s too sunny outside.

S-isms

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Do you know WTF my 2-year-old is saying?

  1. Gop!
  2. Gatka da yee-ess gor off?*
  3. We bik dee gitty oh walkie woal. (Hint: this one is sung, not said.)
  4. Ging eekie eekie gong. (No, I’m not kidding.)
  5. Me go how put gope on.
  6. It’s too gunny ow guys.

*I’ve been writing these down as they happen. This one I didn’t translate at the time and now I can’t for the life of me figure out what it means.

 

I Suck More Than You Do

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I imagine that the relationships between other mothers and their young (toddler-preschooler) children remain pretty consistently good. Sure there are challenges along the way, but the actual relationship is warm, loving, supportive, not-strained. For some reason, my relationship with L has never been like this. We go through periods where we get along OK, but inevitably every few months we end up back to butting heads over everything.

This is all a surprise to me. I fully expected to need to work on my relationship with my husband, that my relationships with friends would go through ebbs and flows, that my relationships with my siblings and parents would change over time, that my relationships with my kids as they progressed through the teen years into adulthood would have challenges and need extra work. But I never imagined that my biggest struggle would be my relationship with a 4-year-old. What does this say about me?

This is the stuff that’s supposed to just come naturally, right? I’m the mom, therefore my feelings towards my son should involve things like overwhelming love, an overwhelming desire to support him, help him learn and grow, overwhelming wonderment, blah, blah, blah. He’s the child so his feelings towards me should involve things like love, thinking I’m kind of a superhero, thinking I’m the best thing since sliced bread, (despite his overwhelming desire to push boundaries,) etc. I don’t expect a nearly 5-year-old and his mom to never have disagreements, but I would expect the relationship to be straightforward. Ours is not. None of this comes naturally to me. This is all a reflection of my ineptitude. I feel like he is not a child I can parent properly. I am always irritated with him just being him. That can’t be how a mom is supposed to feel.

My “dislike” of all things L isn’t a one way street. He clearly dislikes all things mom too. He always has. He has always worshiped T and somewhat tolerated me. His first sentence was “No Mommy, Daddy!” He used to cry when it was me who came into his room to fetch him from his crib in the morning. And it was me every damn day. He’d throw his toys at me and tell me to go away that he wanted Daddy. Seriously. This started around 10 months of age. Not cool. This preference was supposed to be a phase, but it hasn’t changed one bit.

None of this is right. None of it is how it’s supposed to be. Since he’s the kid, clearly I’m the one doing something wrong. This isn’t a parenting issue that can be solved with trying a new discipline or parenting technique from a book, this is a basic thing that should be natural that I’ve got all wrong. And it’s highlighted daily by the fact that he has a sister who adores me (as she rightly should!) and who I properly adore right back. Even when she’s doing her 2-year-old gig, I “get” her in a way I’ve never gotten L.

I do not want my son to grow up with the constant message that he’s annoying me. But he is annoying me. This whole post makes me sounds like a monster. And I feel like a monster for thinking and feeling this stuff. I feel like it can’t be right. I must be missing some part of me that would make me a good mom for him. I’m hoping there are others out there feeling this! I hope there are others who went through this and now have a wonderful 20-something son to show for it. I just don’t want to ruin this child and I feel like I am.

WTF Tapas

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L to T in the other room:

“Can you call someone to see about getting me a Batmobile?”

What in his life experience so far leads him to believe that T or I have people to call about things like this?

………………………………………………………………………………………..

Having a conversation with S is an exercise in madness. Between trying to figure out wtf she’s saying and the fact that her brain does not work in a linear fashion like mine does, we go around in inane circles that make my head hurt. This is an example of a conversation I’ve had in the car with her on multiple occasions:

S: Etend dis is a bus. (sic) (Pretend this is a bus.)
me: OK.
S: Mommy?
me: Yeah?
S: No! You not my mommy! You da bus diver. (sic)
me: Right. Sorry.
S: Mommy?
me: I’m not your mommy. I’m the bus driver.
S: Etend you’re my mommy now. (sic)
me: Uh, OK.
S: Mommy?
me: Yes?
S: Nooooo! You da bus diver!
me: I’m pretending to be the bus driver pretending to be your mommy. This is getting confusing.
S: Why?
me: No more talking on the bus!

…………………………………………………………………………….

L on Saturday, trying his best to behave during our enforced quiet time*:

“If I don’t say anything, can I please run around and around like a crazy person?”

*There was to be no talking for any reason. This just killed L. Asking him to play quietly and by himself for a designated period of time is about as effective as asking him to stop breathing.

……………………………………………………………………………

S-isms Solved

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OK, so here’s the answer key. There were a lot of creative answers and a couple of you got some right. Everyone was stumped by the first and last ones though.

Me eek keys in the boo-koo-montney?

“Me eat cheese in the supermarket?” Can’t go to the market without stopping by the deli for a slice of cheese. Luckily, even if I’m not buying cheese the folks at the deli counter are always willing to give S a slice. Try to get the girl to eat a slice of cheese at home? She’ll have none of it.

Me want more bup in my cup!

“Me want more milk in my cup!” Bup has always been her word for milk. I tried to teach her to say it correctly by having her copy me saying “mmmmm” and then “mmmmm-milk.” But she says “mmmmmm-bup.” Oh well.

Me all done beeking!

“Me all done sleeping!” Naturally, beeking = sleeping. She shouts this over and over again when she wakes up.

(singing) Cakey car ish kittniss!

This one is S singing along to the radio, and I had the pleasure of hearing it for the entire length of a song, and most of the rest of the day. “Taking care of business!” You would have known it if you heard it because girl’s got rhythm.

This was fun. I might add S-isms as a regular feature along with my WTF Tapas. What do you think?

S-isms

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Some kids are great verbalists. Not mine. L couldn’t pronounce his own (totally uncomplicated) name until he was well over 3, and he still erroneously begins words with the letter B (“becited”), and mispronounces several words like “hostible” and “resternaut.” I love these mispronunciations and am probably doing the exact wrong thing by not correcting them.

At 2, S is a chatterbox. She almost never stops talking and almost none of what she says is remotely understandable. I get about 70% of what she says. Luckily, L understands more like 85% and often acts as translator. When neither of us is around, she’s probably constantly frustrated and misunderstood. With good reason. Here are a few gems that she said just yesterday:

Me eek keys in the boo-koo-montney?

Me want more bup in my cup!

Me all done beeking!

(singing) Cakey car ish kittniss!

Any idea what she’s talking about? I actually was able to understand all of them. There was plenty she said that I couldn’t understand but I thought it might be fun to put these out there and hear your guesses. I’ll translate tomorrow.