50 Shades of Toddlerdom

I've totally fallen off the blog-wagon lately so this is my catch-up post.  Warning--it ain't gonna be pretty.

There are literally hundreds of topics I've wanted to blog about but will probably never get to because my due date is TODAY and although the baby's probably not coming today, it will be a comin' soon and my life will end (for at least 2 months).  And so will my will to blog.

So, before I completely let things slip away in the sands of time, unrecorded for posterity, here is a completely random short list of stuff I wanted to blog about.

(1) Major mommy fail--I am my kid's own worst potty-training enemy.  Judah's been ready for underwear for at least 6 months now.  He always tells me "poo-poo coming" and goes wonderfully in his potty every time.  BUT, when he tells me "pee-pee coming" I reply "Just go in your diaper."

Sorry Judah--you look so proud but these will just have to wait!

I know, how bad am I?!  I have no real excuse except that I'm lazy.  It's really hard to get up from the floor or couch when you're in the 3rd trimester.  I hate helping him get dressed again after bathroom trips cuz he's SO wiggly.  And, the main reason--I hate public restrooms.  Sorry Judah--mommy doesn't want to take you to the nasty bathroom at Target or the mall or anywhere really.

When I told this to his pediatrician she literally said this--Great!  You can just send him off to college in diapers!

Hmmmm...someone loves sarcasm.

(2) The co-sleep creep--How we almost became co-sleepers.  The main reason I haven't blogged for a while is because I haven't slept well for the last 10 days.  Because for the last 10 days Judah started to crawl into our bed to sleep with us.

For his entire life he has slept in his own room but suddenly the dude decides he needs to run out of his room at 4 am and crawl in with mommy (probably because we just transitioned him from his crib to a real bed).  At first we tolerated this because most of the night was over and no one wants to roll out of their warm bed in the freezing cold and set off the worst alarm noise ever known to mankind--a shrieking toddler.

But then 4 am became 2 am.  And 2 am became midnight.  And before you know it, Judah refused to start out his bedtime in his room.  Being the passive conflict-avoider that I am, I was ready to give in to his demand to co-sleep except for the fact that I felt like a total zombie every morning.  Being woken up 4-5 times a night by a toddler whining for you to "pat" him back to sleep is just not viable.

And so we bit the bullet and sleep-trained him YET AGAIN 2 nights ago.  Judah cried long and hard and said some things over and over again that will always make me die a little inside every time I think about it--Mommy, where are you?  Where is my mommy?  Mommy I crying!  Mommy, can you pat me a little bit? But in the end he gave up.  Or as the spouse so horribly puts it--we broke his spirit!

No, but seriously, I'm so thankful for the advice and stories of other mom's experiences.  Made me feel like I wasn't the most horrible parent in the world and that I was actually doing the kid a service--teaching him how to soothe himself.

But part of me can't help but wonder if I'm scarring him for life with all this sleep-training...

(3) Candyland--the ultimate personality test.  A thoughtful friend bought Judah his first board game over Christmas--Candyland!  I had fond memories playing this with my older brother growing up.  Okay, that's a lie--I have one traumatic memory of playing this with my older brother when I was around Judah's age.

I just remember being super rage-pissed when my brother won the game and flinging the board upside-down and causing all the hundreds of pieces to go flying around the room.  My brother was so annoyed at my hulk-smash reaction that he vowed never to play that game with me again.  And we never did.

Judah, on the other hand, had a completely different mentality than me at his age.  When we played the game Judah decided he wanted to make up his own rules.  Even though I got to the castle first and he acknowledged that "mommy won," he quickly moved himself into the castle in his next turn and declared that he had won too.

That's my look of bewilderment mixed with subtle fear.  I don't know what to do with rule-breakers.

And forget taking one card at a time from the top of the pile.  Judah would go through each card until he found the special ones that he liked--the ones with a picture of a candy or pastry on it.

The entire time I kept saying "No, that's not how you play the game Judah" or "You're not following the rules Judah" and "You're playing the game wrong!"  And believe me, Judah understands the rules (because he largely followed them the first time we played), he just subsequently decided to ignore them.  He wanted to play the game his own way.

And that's when I realized--this child is nothing like me.  I am a goal-oriented, rule-abiding, authority-loving follower (and sometimes rage-a-holic).  My toddler is a rule-smashing, authority-ignoring, goal-reorienting drummer of his own beat.

I am and have always been a sheep.  While he's more like...his dad.

Heaven help me.

(4) Lastly, I leave you with one of my favorite memories of the last week.  Judah opened his sleepy eyes one morning in bed with us and smiled like an angel.  With my heart bursting with love, I said "Judah, you are my special guy."

And without missing a beat Judah replied "And you my special lady."

Awwwww, can't you just hear the angels in heaven weeping with the tears of a hundred unicorns?

I know, you're welcome.

But Daddy Say No

I'm finding out more about myself than ever before now that I'm trying to parent Judah.

For one, I realize he is a strong-willed child (a la the best-selling book, Setting Limits With Your Strong-Willed Child).

And I, as it turns out, am a weak-willed, naturally compliant doormat.

Very bad combo, this.

Basically, Judah steam-rolls right over my gentle 'suggestions' every time.  Unless he really is asking to risk his life (for example, wanting to use the butcher knife), I usually cave.  At the first sign of his crumpled up face and his high-pitchy wail, I give in.

Okay, okay, you can bring your toy car out (even though I know it's going to be a disaster when you misplace it and cry bloody murder because you can't find it the next day).

Okay, okay, you can play another 15 minutes in the car (even though we're way behind schedule).

You get the idea.  Judah leads, I follow...reluctantly.

Which is why, more and more, I've defaulted to saying, "Why don't you ask daddy?"  Obviously Judah gets his strong-will from the spouse and I'll let the two of them duke it out.  Pretty much 100% of the time, Judah ends up crying and wailing "Daddy say no to me!"

Ah, sweet victory...by proxy.

Be Nice

Hi!  It's me, just real quick.  I'm buried under piles and piles of work.  But I just HAVE to get some things down.  Cuz if I don't I'll explode, or rather, I'll just keep thinking about how much I want to blog about you and be completely distracted and inefficent at work.

Last Sunday you were a cranky screaming banshee.  You started an epic meltdown 90 minutes before your usual bedtime and I took that as a sign that you were pretty darn ready to go to bed right that minute!  You screamed and wailed no matter how I tried to soothe you so I decided I should just put you in your crib, close the door and walk out.

As you saw me turning to leave, you turned up your meltdown to high-terror-alert RED (which I've never seen before and definitely scared the crap out of me).  Your voice got 50 decibals louder and you started jumping up and down like a frantic lunatic.  So of course I stayed in your room and tried to calm you down.

And as you laid in bed wailing, you said "Mommy, no leave.  Mommy, be nice.  Be nice."

That took my breath away.  You've always begged me to stay, but you've never asked me to 'be nice' before.  It seems you've graduated to another level of cognition--not just asking for physical acts, but appealing to my psychological motivations--asking me to find it in my heart to be kind and stay with you.  Unbelievable.

Lately, in general, you've just been so much more expressive about what you're feeling too.  You've gone from merely describing things like "This is apple.  This is blue," to actually talking about how you feel about them.  Now you'll exclaim "I love it!  I love it!" or "This is yummy!  I like it!" or "This is fun!"

Or my favorite, which you'll say at random times "Mommy, I so happy."  Awwww, I'm happy too baby.

You are quite the little communicator!

I guess it's no surprise as your dad is one of the MOST talkative people I've ever met, heck he does it for a living.  And your mom ain't a quiet person either!

What a Pair

I'm a sucker for just-like-daddy clothing for Judah.

Here they're sporting matching canvas shoes from our favorite wallet-friendly boutique--Target (pronounced: Tar-jay).  Here's a closer look:

Isn't that the cutest thing you've ever seen?  And in other news, we bought Judah a yacht because that's how we ballers roll.

Judah aboard the USS Spoiled Brat.

Just kidding.  We snuck into a boat yard and posed on someone else's yacht cuz Judah wanted to, in his words, "Ride boat! Ride boat!  I want it!  I want it!"

Judah's "Cheese" Face

Question--What does my toddler and Jessica Simpson have in common?

Answer--They both mug for the camera with their mouths wide open!

Judah recently caught on to the concept of saying "cheese" for the camera. But instead of saying cheese and smiling--he gives us this face:

 

 


At first I thought, how wierd to smile with a big open mouth. Who the heck taught him to do this?! And then I recalled seeing pics of the spouse with this kind of "smile" when he was a kid.  I need to dig one out, scan it in and post it here.

Apparently open-mouth "smiles" are genetic!

Shee-shu

Judah loves to point out "Shee-shu."

When he first said that word, about 6 months ago, we were completely puzzled?  What?  Shee-shu?  What is he trying to say?

After discussing it with his Mexican nanny, we realized he was saying 'sucio', which means dirty in Spanish.

There's a lot of dog poop in our neighborhood, which Judah loves to point to and say "Shee-shu mommy, shee-shu."

But there's also a lot of occasions that he says shee-shu and it's not really dirty.  Like crumbs falling on his tray when he eats a cracker.  Or his hair falling on his arm when we give him a haircut.  Or the heather pattern in my grey t-shirt.

But Judah gets pretty upset about it and always has to point it out.  I'm starting to see that he's a little OCD, like his dad.

I used to (okay, still do) get so annoyed at the spouse for making me wash my feet every time I go in the house if I had worn sandals.  He doesn't want me to trek in any dirt from the outside world.  His own feet are pristinely clean at all times.  But do you know how annoying that is?!  To wash your feet 3 or more times a day?!

But now I see it's not totally his fault.  Like father, like son.

Apparently their dislike of shee-shu is genetic.