The First 100 Days of School Project

January 31, 2012 By 3 Comments

20120130-235037.jpg

It may be hard to believe based on the sneaky little smile on my small dude’s face…. but this little guy actually stayed home from school today.  It was a headache.  Yes, just a headache.  Normally, I might have dismissed it, but the first words out of his little mouth when I woke him for school were, “Oh, Mommy…. my head hurts so badly!”  So, I knew he didn’t have time to form a fib.  And he held his head the entire time he was getting ready for school.

Did I mention headaches make me nervous?  So, home and snuggles for the small dude.  Oh…. and a FOUR HOUR nap in the middle of the day.  At the very least, he must have been behind in sleep, yes?

So…. he missed his 99th day of school, but he will be present and accounted for on his 100th day.  And he will have his 100 Day Project in hand.  We debated: Cheerios?  (Nah… everyone will do that) Peanuts? (No can do: allergies) Marshmallows? (Big sister did it last year) Collect baseball cards? (Not edgy enough – they’d just be in a stack because good heavens, Smith boys don’t put tape on them!)

We finally – thanks to Delaney’s brilliant thinking, settled on making the small dude’s name out of 100 chocolate chips.

20120130-235106.jpg

Now…. we could have done his full name: Cooper… if we wanted to use a) a bigger piece of paper or b) make his name smaller.  Coop wasn’t having any of it.  He counted the chips, chose the paper and put his name on it.  I negotiated a little help with the glue because I didn’t want chocolate chips glued to my kitchen table.

I’m fun, but not THAT fun.

Are you doing any 100 Day Projects?  I would love to see them – and I know my small people would too.  Share the links in comments!

 

Filed Under: Featured Content, Good thing he's cute, Recent Posts, Small people Tagged With: , ,

A Very Merry Unbirthday to my Small Dude

December 2, 2010 By 13 Comments

I got dressed up to head out for the evening.  When I walked into the room, he tilted his blond head and eyed me critically….  mentally assessing me.  After a good ‘up-and-down’….  he announced, “Mommy, you look bee-yooo-ti-FULL.”

And I melted.

My sweet boy.

My sweet, small dude.

The one who still holds my hand.

And still snuggles.

The one who demands I stop working for Eskimo kisses.

The one who begs to dance with me.

The one who won’t get out of the car for school without kissing me good-bye.

The one who’s blond hair,  blue eyes and zest for life make him irresistible.

The one who can recite Bible verses better than many adults I know and is prone to slow-poking this way through the house when we need to leave.

The one who can’t make it through a day without a spontaneous, “Mommy?  (yes, buddy)  I love you.”

The one who, today, is celebrating yet another un-birthday.  But today is a special, un-birthday – his HALF un-birthday.  Four and a HALF years old.

Four and a HALF years ago, I laughed this small guy into the world. ( I really did) And he has delighted me every second since then.

I blame him for the laugh lines around my eyes.  And the tummy ache from giggling.

He’s so intent on being a BIG KID.  I dread the day one of these un-birthdays makes him too big to hold my hand. Too big for Eskimo kisses. Too big for the spontaneous love.

So, for now….  I will take this unbirthday to revel in the PURE BOY JOY that is my small dude.

Wishing him a VERY HAPPY UNBIRTHDAY!

Filed Under: A little piece of Heaven, Extraordinary, Featured Content, Good thing he's cute, Gratitude, Recent Posts Tagged With: , , ,

Potty Training SUCCESS!

July 5, 2009 By 12 Comments

It feels like a miracle.

A small one, at least.  And one that only a mother who has actually gone through it can appreciate.

Cooper is officially Potty Trained.

{cue marching band music, picture me jumping from the couch to the table with unabashed enthusiasm}

You may remember Delaney tried to teach him.  That almost worked. But not quite.

Then we had some success.  He would pee on the potty.  But that other stuff? Notsomuch.

I made the mistake of putting a pull-up on him to avoid pants full of poop while we were out and about (and no where near a potty). Sooooo…..he figured that was the way to go. For the past few weeks, he’s even been getting the pull-up and putting it on himself when he needed to go.

A twitter friend, Jill, sent me one of her Potty Tots kits to kick start the process.  Both the small people LOVED the DVD (it also comes with a darling potty chart and stickers!) and can’t stop singing the song.  I finally had to tell them we couldn’t watch it again until Coop was fully trained.

I was afraid it might never happen.

But on Friday, something tipped.  He was walking on his tip-toes. He was scared. He was sweating. He even screamed like he was losing a little piece of himself.  But eventually he couldn’t hold it any longer.

He pooped on the potty.  All by himself.

So we celebrated.  He told everyone he saw.  And then he did it again. And again.  And again.

So, tonight – we said a formal adios to that little potty. 

 

We packed up the pack n’ play. (which we used as a changing table)

And my little guy turned into a big kid – just. like. that.

Filed Under: Extraordinary, Funny, Good thing he's cute, Gratitude, Small people Tagged With: , ,

Potty Training, Poop and Purple Nailpolish

May 8, 2009 By 13 Comments

Just what, do you think, these three things have to do with each other?

Clearly the potty training and poop go together, but what is with the purple nail polish?

The common denominator?  The small dude.

He is potty training. Some days he is OUTSTANDING – no accidents at all.  Other days (read Today) he just doesn’t give a damn.  He isn’t bothered by the pee down his leg (in his shoe or on my carpet). He doesn’t care that he is wet. He would prefer to poop in a pull up.  He has the ‘pee’ thing down – when he wants to, but poop – well that is a whole different story.

When I twittered today about hating potty training – someone responded by telling me that ‘potty training is the 10th circle of hell’ – I have to agree.  I have not had good potty training experiences.  I was foolish enough to think the small guy might be easier.  He has other ideas.

I was also foolish enough to think I would be allowed 30 minutes of peace to work out.

Instead – this is what walked into my room.

 

Looks a bit like war paint, now doesn’t it?

I am happy to report, despite my lack of nail polish remover (seriously?), I was able to clean his face. 

Can’t wait for tomorrow’s escapades.  Try not to be jealous.

Filed Under: Don't you wish you were me?, Good thing he's cute Tagged With: , ,

On an Island

April 20, 2009 By 8 Comments

Sometimes I feel a bit like I am floating somewhere in the midst of the Pacific Ocean.

All by myself.

Sometimes, I wish I was.  Floating by myself, that is.

Parenting is hard.  Being a Mommy is hard.  Rewarding – absolutely.  Magnificent – you bet!  Wonderful – of course!  But, still HARD.

I’m in the midst of what feels like my most challenging parenting stage yet.   The small people are almost 5 and almost 3.  And, damn, they are good at it.

The tantruming, the whining, the fighting, the competing, the disobeying, the refusing to eat, the tattling – I think my ears are starting to bleed.  I wonder how long before I’m committed to an asylum – or until I leave my husband a note in purple crayon that I’m heading for that island? (What do you want to bet he would join me?)

I think the biggest challenge is that all of these things happen daily.  I’m convinced I could handle tantrums OR whining OR tattling – just not all of them. Every day.

As I typically do when I hit an obstacle like this (well – there hasn’t been one quite like this, but, still….) I ask the people I trust for advice.

I began with my closest friend.  She is a mom too.  The good news/bad news: she has been right where I am (great for me – not the best time for her) so she understands this particular dilemma. (The dilemma is – do I lock myself in the closet claiming ‘time-out’ for mommy and make moaning sounds any time anyone approaches the door – or do I try to work through it?)  I was leaning towards the closet, but my friend always makes me feel centered and voted for the ‘work through it option.

She reminded me that this is a stage.  She assured me I am not, in fact, a candidate for ‘worst mother of the year’, and suggested I give myself some credit for the love and attention I give.  Since I can’t tackle every challenge at once – pick my battles.  And don’t give up.  She promised that continuing to help my kids work things out rather than allowing them to fight will be worth the effort.

I’m pretty sure she is right.

In the mean time, I think it is a good thing they are cute.

cimg7259

(If you don’t hear from me for a while – I opted for the island route – I’m thinking Pina Coladas and Palm Trees – want to come?)

Filed Under: Can we talk?, Don't you wish you were me?, Good thing he's cute Tagged With: , , ,

Destructible

February 24, 2009 By 3 Comments

You just might have one: a child that gets in TO EVERYTHING.

I do. And , yet,  I didn’t recognize this as a pattern.  Until today.

cooperafter

His name: Cooper.  His M.O.: coloring on anything and everything, his own skin included. He has also been known to break toys, dig into his big sister’s makeup, throw anything vaguely resembling a ball and take the stuffing out of couch cushions.

However, after spending 20 minutes getting marker off the couch this morning and a good hour on my hands and knees coaxing fluorescent orange marker out of my carpet this afternoon, I am confident this is a permanent part of his personality and am none too happy about it.

His AKA: The Destructible.

cooperbeforeSure, he’s cute.  Or, he is sometimes. maybe that is part of the problem.  The sweet face hides the Destructible within.

It is getting to the point that I am afraid to go to the bathroom lest he discover a Sharpie (Heaven forbid! I think I have hidden them all at a girlfriend’s urging).

Admittedly, he always fesses up, but still, I’ve become a slave to white cloth and water. If you ask him where he is supposed to color/draw/write, he will throw up his tiny little hands and yell, “On pay-purr!” with such conviction you think there is an invisible elf who is the true culprit.

I think this may be payback.  I could never truly empathize when a mom friend told horror stories about a devious child.

Hmmm…and now I have one.  Interesting.

Filed Under: Are you kidding me?, Don't you wish you were me?, Good thing he's cute Tagged With: , ,

Bet this doesn’t happen at the St. Regis

January 19, 2009 By 8 Comments

File this under, “Don’t you wish you were me?” or maybe “It is a DAMN good thing he’s cute!” or maybe, just maybe, “I bet this doesn’t happen at the St. Regis.”

I had just finished doing a little exercise, during which the kiddos were mesmerized by Dora left me peacefully alone. 

Suddenly, Delaney comes running into the room, doing her bet imitation of a pint sized drama queen and yells, “The Boogie man is coming!” My quick-thinking mommy brain tells me that the ‘boogie man’ is likely blond, also pint sized, and has probably picked his nose. (At least he lets you know and doesn’t just wipe it on the furniture, right?)

Well, I was right about the culprit, but wrong – dead wrong – gagging wrong – about the infraction.  When the little blond one came around the corner with his right hand in the air (as is normal for displaying a ‘present’ from his nose) it was not, and I repeat NOT something from his nose that covered his hand.  Can you see where I’m going? (This is where the ‘don’t you wish you were me?’ comes in)

When I looked at his hand, and it was, in fact, COVERED – I squealed, as only a Mommy confronted with this type of disaster can squeal, “WHAT IS THAT?”  The little guy twists his hand back and forth..making sure the light is catching the disaster at every angle, and calmly says, “Poop.”  Sure as shit.  No pun intended.

By the time I got him to the wipes, I was gagging.  Friends, I actually vomited.  Me – the mommy with the strong stomach – me, the mommy who has been vomited ON, who has wiped the bottoms of babies with Rotavirus (if you’ve experienced it, you KNOW the smell.  If you haven’t – imagine the worst smell ever) I couldn’t handle the visual of the poop on his HAND for heaven’s sake, combined with the smell.  I used 24 wipes – and dug it out from under his nails – don’t be jealous.  I plopped him in the bath tub and scrubbed him down.  Repeatedly.  Scrub. Rinse. Repeat. Scrub. Rinse. Repeat. 

I found myself saying things like, “Buddy, we don’t play with our poop!” and “Repeat after me: Mommy.  I will not put my hands in poop ever again.”

It is a good thing he is cute.  And clean.  Or I might not eve be able to rid myself of the visual.

coopclean

Now that I have lost my banana breakfast and am fairly certain I might not ever be able to stomach eating again….I must explain one last thing. The tag, “I bet this doesn’t happen at the St. Regis” is because my dear, sweet, lovely husband is on vacation a work trip at a cheap hotelthe St. Regis in Aspen.  Clearly, the down comforters, the snowmobiling, the glasses of wine while taking in the view (Aspen is ugly, right?) don’t compare to the fun I am having.  Wouldn’t you agree?

Filed Under: Don't you wish you were me?, Good thing he's cute Tagged With: , ,