G'Knight Ride Take Two

Last year, I had an effin' amazing day on the day of the G'Knight ride. Seriously, you should read about it again, because I inspire myself with that post.

This year, I am a bit more pregnant and fat and B had to work. So, we gathered the flock of kids from the neighborhood and cheered for all the cyclist that rode past our corner. We had mini water canons, bells, bubbles, and lots of enthusiastic little rugrats. I was campaigning for a slip n' slide, but apparently my neighbors don't see the value in the combination of sliding and cycling.

It was cute, the water canons were like muskets -- lots of time spent reloading -- so they definitely kept the kids busy. I tried to teach the youngins the importance of shooting water up in the air so that people didn't veer or crash.

Sprocket learned how to get his cheer on...

Unfortunately, there was one accident. A kid on a bike turned to watch us with the water and veered into the bike next to him. He veered and hit once and bounced off and stayed upright. Then he veered again and went down. He took the guy down next to him who had a tag-along on the back. The guy and little girl were fine...they were moving slow and barely tipped. The kid scraped his knee and was just shaken up more than anything. It didn't help that the kid's sister kept saying, "he just doesn't watch and does this stuff all the time." I felt bad for the poor kid...dealing with post-fall embarrassment and then having your little sister rub it in. After rinsing with some water, the kid was fine and rode off with his mom and jerk-o sister.

Every night after bath and books, we talk about the fun things we did that day. Here is our pillow talk yesterday...

Funny, last year at this time, we were worried because this kid wasn't really talking :)

A Week of Terror Part 2: The Plan

So, I left you last week with a description of the downward spiral into to terrorist two land. Things had gotten ugly and we had devised a plan. Basically, I had to put on my middle school teacher hat. I started thinking as I would if a kid were causing issues in class.

Step 1: Identify the Baggage
Sprocket is like his mom -- crankiness can happen any time...but WILL happen when two situations present themselves.
1. Tired.
2. Hungry

I had to recognize that regardless of anything I was doing or trying in the discipline arena -- the first step to success was knowing enough about Sprocket to realize that I was doomed if either of these things were true. I think the busy-ness of playing with our neighbors coupled with newly increasing outside time now that its summer, left him tired and hungry. The hard part is, he doesn't know he is hungry until he is HUNGRY and even then he has a melt down before he can realize that the real problem is an empty tummy.

So, I started shoveling food in his face. I felt like a broken record -- do you need a snack? Mama is eating a banana, do you want some? Hey, Sprocket, how about some crackers?

Eat Up!

Step 2: Identify the Motivation
Sprocket wants things his way. And sometimes that is okay. I had to step back and stop sweating the small stuff. Yes, we normally change out of pajamas before breakfast, but is it the end of the world if he wants to change after breakfast? I realized that by fighting all the small battles, I wasn't leaving myself energy to deal with the big things that needed to be battles (you know, like hitting and kicking). It is better to let the small things go and then be able to really focus on the non-negotiables.

Sprocket wants to do everything himself...in fact, half his day is spent saying "No, I do it!" For example, today he decided that me taking him out of the car seat was not good enough. So, he insisted on climbing back in so that he could climb out himself. He is that serious.

So, why not take that motivation and turn it into a win for Mama? I started lacing everything with choice. "Sprocket, you have to have shoes on to go outside, do you want to get them or do you want mom to do it?" Usually, he is so overwhelmed by the idea of doing it himself, he doesn't realize that he is doing something that he previously didn't want to do. Bazinga.

If his motivation is doing it himself -- then I just have to make it seem like everything is his idea.

For the record, it was TOTALLY his idea to put Vaseline in his hair at nap time. He looked like Nick Nolte the rest of the day.

Now, let's talk about the hitting. His motivation was getting a rise from me -- so I eliminated that rise. I simply started saying "we don't hit mama" and leaving the room. I completely eliminated the reward (my attention) that he gets from hitting. I won't say the problem has resolved itself -- but at least he is getting the message and I am not feeling overwhelmed.

Step 3: Prevention
Sprocket acts out when he is bored and tired. So, I have been trying to wear him out doing fun things so that I can just prevent the whole thing. I have made an effort to get out of the house relatively early in the morning. Sometimes this is just playing outside or going on a walk -- but the key is to wear his little dictator butt out and get him to take a good solid nap. So far I think it is working...he has napped consistently the past few days (hope I am not jinxing myself!) and seemed far happier.

Happy Sprocket after a good nap

It ain't perfect...and it probably won't work next week. But for now, I have my cute little boy back and I am not wanting to pull out my hair every 10 minutes.

A Week of Terror Part 1: The Downward Spiral

I had a wonderfully glorious week off last week and I found myself swan diving (which, in reality, looked like a cannonball...because, you know, the belly) into summer. Sprocket and I did all sorts of stuff -- the Children's Wow Museum, story time at the library, transitioning to a big boy bed, the park with neighbors, working in the weeds yard, walks to the slide, a weekend at an outdoor festival, and even some fingerpainting for B's birthday. Let's relive that through pictures.

Memorial Day Grill Out with Neighbors

Playing at the Wow Museum

Popsicles in the Yard

Rolling Down the Hill at the Park

Learning how to sleep in a big boy bed

Oskar Blues with Daddy for Lunch

Chipotle with Mommy

Fingerpainting Daddy's Birthday Card

Zonked out ona walk after skipping a nap...with a ragged old baby doll that he managed to smuggle out of our neighbor's garage

It was awesome. and relaxing. and wonderful.

This past week, I had a few "extra" things to do for my school district -- presenting at a conference on Monday and a three-day curriculum workshop until Thursday. Our awesome neighbor watched Sprocket, and since he adores her 3 and 5 year old, it worked out well.

It also began the downward spiral into the Week of Terror. By the way, I am insinuating correlation, not causation (I am a science teacher...there is a huge difference). I don't think being over at our neighbor's caused any of this...but I think the week mixed up a magic cocktail that correlated with my sweet and loving tow-head turning into a writhing and screaming tyrant. Sprocket boycotted nap a couple days, and had to share toys a bit more, and had a huge eczema flare-up. This all resulted in an itchy, tired, and ticked off little kid. I think he also officially entered the terrible twos.

My evenings with Sprocket have been defined by peaks of cuteness that are punctuated with hours (okay, maybe half-hours) of sheer terror. He screams. He kicks. He writhes. He cries. He screeches. He refuses all reason.

Over the most random things.

Yesterday, I wouldn't let him bring foot lotion in the car to meet Daddy for lunch. 20 minute temper tantrum.

On Wednesday, he had to give a play stroller back to our neighbor because it was time to go home. 45 minute temper tantrum...all the way to the park, on the ground next to the slide, and all the way home. I took this video after waiting out the temper tantrum for about 20 minutes.

This morning, I changed his diaper and put cream on his bottom. 15 minutes of screaming on the floor with no pants.

You might say, "just ignore him" or "just put him in timeout."

I know, right? So I ignore and he will then try to seek me out and starts hitting or kicking. Then, it becomes timeout. On the way to timeout, he will try to grab a toy or random object (blanket, sippy cup, bubbles, whatever), and then when I take it away from him, the whole tantrum becomes about that object and we begin the Super Nanny timeout shuffle -- emotionless face, walk back to timeout, again. and again. AND AGAIN. By the time it is all over, he doesn't remember why he started screaming or why he is in timeout. This doesn't contribute to a particularly effective teaching strategy.

But maybe the point isn't teaching...but surviving with consistency?

Regardless, B and I had a Smither's Household Parenting Discussion...and we have a plan. Stay tuned to hear the plan and how it goes...and for some thoughts on why this whole thing has felt so overwhelming to me specifically.

Shake and Terror.

Celebrating My Inner Hippy

Or is it Hippie?

Sprocket has developed a raging case of eczema. It is on his arms, ankles, and the backs of his knees -- and it was on his face until we stopped using wipes to clean his face off. He calls the raw spots his "owies" and is constantly explaining that he has owies on his legs. He is also constantly itching. Both of which contribute to my and his misery.

My crunchy neighbor recommended I try to make my own lotion using this recipe. She even provided the coconut oil -- so I couldn't resist giving it a try.

I started by crushing 1/4 cup of oatmeal

And melted 3/4 coconut oil on low. 

Then mixed the two together, and added a tablespoon of olive oil (EVOO...Rachel Ray would be proud). I took it off the burner and poured it into a container to cool for a while.

I am pretty sure it shouldn't be chunky at the bottom...which makes me think that my sorta-broken food processor didn't quite pulverize the oatmeal enough.

I guess my Inner Hippy still needs some work.

Who knows if it will work, but I figure the worst case scenario is that my son smells like oatmeal and glistens like a tanning bed junkie. I mean, oatmeal was one of my preggo cravings...so it can't be that bad, right?

Oh, and while I worked in the kitchen, Sprocket kept shouting "I hug Tuque!" Yep, kid...if by "hug" you really mean "generally torture and pull on Tuque's ears"...then, yes, you hugged Tuque.

Poor Tuque...what is he gonna do with another rugrat hanging on him?

Why, Hello There, June.

June is my baby-baking mountain.

Thirty-four weekers still have to stay in the NICU, and any pre-term baby can have issues breathing and eating. BUT 34 weekers are much more developed than 32 weekers (Sprocket's baking time) and typically have a much shorter NICU stay. Don't get me wrong, I don't want a 34-weeker, but getting to 34 weeks would be a big sigh of relief.

Then, just around the corner is 35 weeks, which means our hospital doesn't automatically take them to NICU.

June is definitely my gestational mountain.

Happy Placenta Day!

As you might have read, I am complicated.

We found out at our 20 week appointment that things could get ugly with the location of my placenta. We went for our 28 week ultrasound to see if it moved...and it had! Woohoo! Dr. M (who we met when the defecation hit the fan with Sprocket) said that our risk of placenta accreta was very low and that it looked like the whole thing was off of my scar. He even did this cool thing where he pushed on my belly and it showed up in the ultrasound so that he could show me where the middle of the placenta was...and it was clear up above my belly button.

He said baby was about 3 lb 4 oz and projected a full term size of "high 7's." Did ya catch that? A high risk doctor actually projected something for us to full term. This is the first time that a doctor has mentioned full term without a heavy if or pre-e percentages. It felt good.

I won't lie, things are going to get baby heavy around here and you 3 readers are just going to have to deal with it. Okay? Okay.

The Three Stages of Project Shorts

Sprocket has been boycotting shorts this season. Well, really, he is boycotting change...he did the same thing when we switched to pants in the fall. His version of boycotting means that he screams and kicks and cries.

This past weekend, when the temps were set to hit 90, we decided to initiate Project Shorts. So, I wrastled him into a pair and let him cry it out.

Stage 1: Grief

Stage 2: Denial

Stage 3: Acceptance

Note: I let him pick out the shirt in hopes of making it a smoother transition. Gotta love the plaid and stripes combination. Also, these three videos were taken within about 5 minutes of each other. Holy mood swing, batman.