Week of April 7, 2004
"I want chocolate valentine heart?"
"I want valentine heart cookie?"
"I have a green egg!"
"I want park and swings!"
"Is Maggie in town?"
"Deep in the 100 acre wood…"
(a la Carly Simon in Piglet's Big Movie)
"You help me, I help you, Dreeeeeams, can come true…"
(a la Courtney Amber/Clifford)We're facing tests of wills now, and I'm at a loss, really, about the best way to handle these encounters. I don't want to be Owen's patsy, shifting as the winds blow in order to avoid confrontation or altercations. And I don't want to end up in a situation where I'm fighting for something I don't care about, because I have to win and it's come down to a test of wills. I don't want it to be about winning for either of us, or worse, not losing. It seems inevitable that everyone ends up digging their heels in, and the original issue gets lost along the way, but how can I know I mean business, without locking myself into these face offs?
I don't want to fight over trivial things, but I want Owen to take us seriously and relent for things like hygiene and safety, and consideration of others. I'd like him to grow up to be polite when it's important, and thoughtful and gentle, if possible. I want him to be a good citizen, without being squashed and homogenized. How does one accomplish this, in a way that doesn't cause strife and tension? Is this one of those burning questions in parenting? What is the nature of good discipline, anyway?
I've read lots of books (of course). I get the ideas out there, and I read situations where it all works. I understand trying to separate the issue from the emotions that can become entangled with it, and trying to avoid the "test of wills" thing. I also understand a lot depends on the kids, and on the parents. It's not easy, or there wouldn't be so many articles on books on how to come back from losing your cool and how not to yell at your kids.
So far, Scott and I haven't had the urge to yell and I suspect that won't be our M.O. In fact, though I call these "fights" and test of wills, it was all quiet and low key and unemotional. The emotion, so far, is in my head, fearing for our future and the tests that will come with the stakes are higher. I have to be careful I don't fall into the trap of using guilt - I'm carrying voice in my head that I should have ditched long ago. Guilt is too tight a noose to use willy nilly. Scott also grew up with guilt, and as a response, when he feels it, he tends to respond angrily rather than getting all remorseful and withdrawn. Maybe that's more healthy than the working over I do to myself instead. It's a lot easier to purge one's anger.
So what did we fight about? Or rather, what was the disagreement?
"Owen, you can't bring your gummi bear vitamins to the library. You must either eat them or put them down in your cup holder and they'll be waiting for you when we get back."
This was a repeat of the condition I set in order for him to bring the vitamins with him. Note that Owen has carried food items with him in his hand since pretty much forever. He'd be crawling with something clutched in one hand. He learned to walk with things in his hands, and he'd fall in a way that he'd always protect what he held. His scrapes tended to be on his forearms or the back of his hands as a result.
And usually, what he carries is food. When we pick him up from daycare, he'll have an Oreo in his hand that he's been clutching for hours. I negotiated about the vitamins as a way to get out of the house. I warned him he'd have to part with them before we went into the library, and I took his "okay" as understanding; but understanding something that happens in the future isn't the same as accepting it in the present. Toddlers are all about the present. In retrospect, I should have had this tussle in the house, but hey, we all make mistakes and it's difficult to predict what will create a "mistake." We're learning too.
So we sat in the car, while I told Owen it was his choice, to eat the vitamins or put them down, but he couldn't go in the library with them. I sent Scott in, hoping that would entice Owen to leave the car and go in to the library. We were waiting a long while. Finally Owen said "I want to go home" and I said "Daddy's in the library, we can't go home." I think that spurred Owen on, and he ate the vitamins and we went in. While the library is normally a great treat, Owen was indifferent, clearly ready to leave as soon as we got in.
It wasn't a huge altercation, but it was a glimpse of what it will be like when we "wait each other out" and I don't see it getting better as Owen gets more sophisticated.
An ongoing struggle we have is over teeth brushing. Owen has always hated it, and even when he was tiny and we were trying to acclimate him to gum rubbing, he'd clamp his mouth shut and flail. He's got teeth now, and stronger jaws, and more mass in general. It's very tough brushing teeth when someone is fighting you off. There is a reason it took 4 or 5 people to draw blood at the emergency room last August. As the Doctor always tells us (no matter what doctor we visit), "he's very strong!"
We can't wait it out for tooth brushing (although we've tried every avenue we can think of, and I admit, it's included backing off and trying to make it less pressured). I can't help but think we're at Owen's mercy, and this is how people resort to guilt to get others to do things. "If you don't brush your teeth, they'll rot and you'll have to have scary dental experiences." I guess that won't work, if we're trying to convince him the Dentist is our friend.
Sometimes, when Owen is in a "no!" mood, I'll ask him if his name is Owen and he'll break into a smile, recognizing a familiar game. "No." "Is your name Bella?" "No" "Is your name Sasha?" and after more pet names and all the others I can think of, he's pretty much jollied out of whatever sour mood he was in. A handy trick I try to ration.
On more positive notes, Owen has been singing up a storm this week. We've been playing Piglet's Big Movie in the car, and he knows it well enough to be able to sing along to his favorite songs. It's adorable, I just wish it were easier to peer backward at him in the car. Carly Simon singing kids songs: we're very, very lucky.
We're less lucky with video we got out at the library. Scott picked it out, but if he hadn't, I would have: Shining Time Station. This was on PBS and was the original vehicle that brought Thomas the Tank Engine to U.S. audiences. There's one train story embedded in each episode. My God, it's horrible. I don't mind Didi Conn, and I like George Carlin, but somehow the skits etc. of the show are unbearable. I want to look it, but it's awful. Worse, as with Boobah (shudder), Owen is enraptured. Most TV he uses as background, but these shows he pays careful attention to. Ew. I'm going to be glad we're returning "Stacy Cleans Up" but I know there's another Shining Time Station in our future.
Owen's other fixation this week is "Cranky Bugs" - he likes to watch the video while reenacting the storm and crash with his own crane and trains. And if it's not on, he'll reenact it anyway. Owen's been using his body to participate with things he watches. With Cyberchase, he has to run back and forth when the theme is going on. With Cranky Bugs, he likes to collapse in a heap too, when he's not crashing his crane. We've read the story too, but it's clear he likes the drama of the TV in the background. I can't blame him.
One nice part of this week is that we've been had better weather so we've been able to get outside in the mornings. Owen's accepted his new shoes, and has worn both 10W pairs now. Last week it was raining, and he wouldn't part from his ladybug rain boots, but it appears he's bought our line of "it's not raining, so we're not wearing rain boots now." So far, so good. It's nice to be again sipping Chai and Coffee as Owen runs around the fountain and laughs with us.
Owen's eating has just started to taper off a bit from last week, when he was eating everything in sight. He's gotten a little tummy so I think we're waiting for the growth spurt that I'm assuming was driving his incredible appetite (in stark contrast to the weeks before that when he was eating very little). He's still in 3T pants, and very much a 4T in his torso. We've had to retire his last 90 Hanna Andersson, alas. He's into 100 for sure - it's so interesting to see how the same size in the same brand varies from item to item, and over time. Much like shoes, there's no way to know if a style will work without trying it on him. More expensive brands run bigger, as a rule of thumb, but I'm still constantly worried that I'll pull something out of his "next size" only to find too small. Thanks to Ebay, Owen has no shortage of clothes. Well, except for shoes. And while we did go to Ted's bootshop to have him measured, I think he was more like a 9½W than a 10W, but they were thinking longevity I think. Or perhaps they were being compassionate, considering how Owen was crying. I can't wait for the day when going to the shoe store is a painless experience. Or at least when our only pain is paying for the shoes. Why is it so hard to find a basic leather shoe?
Another highlight of the week was going to Magic Wings with Vivian and her daughters (6 and 1½ ). Owen's been there before, but he was still thrilled to look around and was very unhappy to leave. He was mollified by a hot dog and some ice cream in the café (he was ravenous that day, he had a real lunch and a real dinner too!). Laura was lucky enough to have some butterflies land on her arm, and it was only Anna who wasn't sure how she felt about the experience. At least they didn't give her the willies!
I also had a day off from work, hanging out with friends, remembering what it's like to be childfree. It's a strange feeling, hanging out without worrying about time or about what someone else's needs are. I suspect it's this freedom to be the old me that I sometimes miss, when I could just spend time like it was infinite. It didn't feel infinite way back when, but it does now. As Scott's sister once commented, you don't appreciate how much time you have to fritter, until you lose it to parenthood.
Best moment of the week:
Swinging on Saturday morning at Mill River. It was quiet, and cold, but a wonderful, family moment. We enjoyed the emptiness, and then the occasional dog being walked, and then the kids coming to practice baseball (it must be spring!). Owen didn't want to go to town so Scott was spontaneous and ran to Cumberland Farms for coffee (for me) and donuts. A rare treat, and Owen was in heaven. For almost all things now, chocolate is his favorite. We ran from swings to slides and back around. We laughed and Owen pretended to be a T Rex on the swing and giggled as we cowered. He had been scared by a dinosaur cartoon and I think it's very savvy of him to be the villain he fears. His roars are pretty cute, it's an effort to cower but we love to hear him giggle.
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