The Reward for Training Your Dragon - er, uh - Toddler

Having a toddler is a bit like having a pet dragon; they are both tremendously rewarding, but require an equal amount of effort and trouble.

Fortunately for me, reward and effort often mingle. There are few days that are only trouble, and few days that are just rewards. The result is the lows seem lower and the highs, higher.

Yesterday was one of those days.

I saw my effort and parenting philosophy realized.

"Thank you Mama - for Cheerios, and bowl, and motorcycles."
"Thank you Mama."
"Please Grandad"
"Thank you for strawberries."

I couldn't stop beaming. Every time his sweet little voice spoke those precious words my heart melted in a way I never thought possible.

I was so thankful. I was so proud.

It is rare to hear toddlers say "please," "thank you," or "your welcome" (we're still learning the last one). Actually, it is rare to hear anyone say these things. Maybe it is a result of entitlement, or selfishness, or obliviousness. Whatever the case, I believe in honoring the time and energies of those around me, so I try to thank everyone who is generous with their resources. I thank everyone who serves me or works for me in any way. If it doesn't fit the circumstance, I at least smile at the person, not because it is expected that women should smile, but because I recognize the human being before me and want them to know.

I wanted Kiddo to honor those around him in a similar way. This is something I feel strongly about, and it is why from a very young age, when Kiddo did any desired behavior, I told him "thank you for [insert behavior here]." Some people might think this was a strange thing - a child is not equal to an adult and therefore it is beneath adults to thank children (or to apologize to them etc).

This is complete bullshit and shows just how insecure a person is if they are incapable of recognizing the personhood of a child. A child has agency. They make choices. They choose to act a certain way. Once an adult recognizes this, it makes things a lot easier. Then the adult gives the child reasons to act a desired way (or in our case, say the desired thing).

Normalizing "thank you" made a difference. Thanking everyone appropriately gave a model of behavior for Kiddo. He saw his worth, how other people are valued, and the positive response.

So now, even in the middle of the night, after crying for me, when I go into his room, he immediately says, "Thank you Mama."

*SQUEE!*

Yes, Kiddo had several temper tantrums yesterday. Yes, I wanted to gauge out my ears when he was wailing. But then I heard those precious words, "Thank you Mama," and the tantrums faded into the distance like so many bad memories.

It took a while, but the effort paid off in some serious rewards.

Raising Genderless: Honoring A Toddler's Choice

Outside the box

When Kiddo was born, and even before, I swore I wouldn't pigeon-hole him. I didn't want to keep him from being himself, whoever that was. So I promised, to myself and him, that I would protect and honor his preferences.

I promised I wouldn't push my ideas and preferences onto him.

That is easier said than done, however I think I've done a reasonable job. Sometimes they creep up on me, like when he wanted the Elmo sleepers marketed for girls, covered in pink flowers. I heard myself saying, "girl sleepers" and I had to pick my jaw off the floor.

Since when was that a problem? Sleepers are just sleepers. Who would even see them? Why would that make a difference anyway?! I bought pink and purple cloth diapers for him. How was that any different?

I rationalized my non-purchase by saying they were poly. Kiddo can't wear synthetics coated in flame-retardant. They pill and make him stink from sweat. Plus, they feel awful and the chemicals negatively impact developing endocrine systems. I only let him wear cotton sleepers.

I didn't even touch them to find out what they were. I didn't get close enough because Kiddo was throwing a tantrum he wanted them so badly. I was annoyed, exasperated. I didn't want to get him any more sleepers, that's true, but something else was bothering me. The sleepers were pink.


I was reacting to the fact that he wanted something that was "for girls."

But he's just a little boy. It shouldn't matter that he has a penis or not. It shouldn't matter one way or another what he wears or likes. He should be able to explore himself and what he likes whatever shape that takes.

So I'm grateful for Target's choice to take down their artificial gender barriers. It allows that exploration for all kids. I don't feel weird looking at play food, baby dolls, and remote control cars in the same aisle.Those are all things Kiddo likes. He also likes cleaning, building, and every sport that contains a ball. I'm glad the pressure is off about what is okay for a parent to purchase their child, because frankly, I'm on the cultural border.

Kiddo really likes the color pink. And Abby Cadabby. He sleeps every night with a stuffed Grover and Abby. He likes both a lot. Yes he screams out and giggles when he sees Super Grover, but he also waves his arms like he's a fairy before the Sesame Street fairy school segment.

This may end up being his favorite toy...

Which is why I bought him the Flying Fairy School for his birthday.

It was a great deal. I found it for half the usual price and it gave him two figurines as well as few pieces of furniture along with the school itself. I know he's going to love it. And yes, the characters have wings. And wands. And are purple and pink. Which happen to be his favorite colors.

So what?

Watching Steelers pre-season

Kiddo is a stereotypical boy in many ways. He just collected another bruise today from yet another fall (growing and going TOO fast). He runs around screaming at the top of his lungs. He loves trucks, and cars, and adores
motorcycles. He loves all sports involving balls - golf, soccer, baseball, football, basketball, tennis (yes, even tennis!). But he also likes to pretend to cook and play with figures. His made-up stories often involve hugs and kisses. He loves fairies, butterflies, pink, and purple. He is empathetic, and works hard to make people feel better when they are upset or sad by giving them his toys, hugs, or trying to make them laugh. He shares (I know, but seriously - he does!) at least half the time. He likes sparkles.

And I can't blame him. I like all those things (well, I'm not crazy about watching tennis, but playing is all right. Golf bores the snot out of me, but mini golf is kind of fun.).

The point is his sex organs do not dictate what I give him. And they don't dictate who he is now or will become as an adult. If he wants to wear "girl sleepers," that's okay. That was just a label someone else gave a product that fits any child. And if my toddler loves that product (and I do too), then by the grace of our capitalist overlords, I will let him have it.

The Sleepless Night from Hell

He had a busy day, but he still had energy. In fact, Kiddo had so much energy, he decided not to nap.

So after dinner we went for a family walk. We walked all the way to the park. We played on the playground. It got cold. Christian tried to pull Kiddo off the playground. Temper tantrum ensues. After several unsuccessful attempts at removing Kiddo from the playground, Christian hauls Kiddo over his shoulder and runs down the block, crossing the street.

I followed at a slower pace. The walk was slow going. Sometimes Kiddo ran back toward the park. Other times he stopped to smell roses. Actually. Roses. Like 27 in a row.

We get home in one piece, each parent carrying Kiddo part of the way. It's early. Kiddo can play a little before bed...except...he can't. He starts bawling.

"Mama! Ma MA! UPSTAIRS!"

He runs to me, grabbing my hand and dragging me to the stairs. I let go to grab something, but no. He stamps his feet. He howls. I grab his hand and we proceed haltingly up the stairs.

Christian follows to smooth the process. I get ready for bed as Christian wrestles with Kiddo to get him into sleepers.

No. It doesn't work. He writhes. He thrashes. He howls. Kiddo is taking one of his worst tantrums yet. Somehow Christian gets his shirt off. Kiddo is a cat. He pushes the pj shirt away from his head.

"No, no, no, no, no NO!!!!" he screams.

I come to Christian's aid.

"Baby, you need your sleepers on. It's time for bed. I know you're tired -"
"Mama! MAMA! DADDY! NO NO NO! AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!"

I perform magic and get his arms through the sleeves and his head the collar. We wrestle Kiddo as he thrashes, struggling and yelling, as we miraculously get his sleeper pants on.

I leave to get Kiddo's toothbrush.
"Ok Kiddo. You won!" I hear Christian say from the other room. It's like a switch. It's quiet.
"Kiddo, you won."
I go back in. There he is, sprawled on his stomach, cuddling his stuffed giraffe.
"Alexis, maybe we should just skip tonight -"
"No. He has a dental appointment tomorrow. He needs to brush his teeth." Normally toothbrushing is easy. Kiddo is cooperative. But of course, not this night. He immediately struggles and howls. I try to hold him down, but I can't get the brush in his mouth and hold him. Kiddo is too strong.
"Christian, a little help?" He jumps over, quickly wrapping Kiddo. I blink.
"Why are you holding my hand?" I ask. Christian chuckles.
"Oh! Sorry!" He adjusts his hold and Kiddo is secure. I brush as quickly as possible. Kiddo howls the whole time.

Once the brush is away, Christian let's go and Kiddo sits up. He's still howling. I realize all this time the window was open. I close it, hoping our neighbors don't hate us or think the demonic voice Kiddo uses was from some sort of ritualistic torture (other than common parenting).

"Mama! Mama! Daddy! AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" He's reaching out for me. I turn off the light and he howls louder, even though this is how he sleeps every night.

We nurse.
He switches sides.
He switches again.
He switches again.
Finally he goes to sleep and I get a break. Christian and I chat for maybe an hour. I'm ready to sleep. Kiddo howls from his room. I sigh, get up and go over.

Kiddo is exceptionally clingy. He nurses. He switches sides. He switches again. He clings to me the entire time. I dose off. When I notice he is sound asleep, I leave. 5 minutes later, he wakes, screaming.

I go back in. We nurse. He switches sides. The cycle repeats, except this time, I stay. I figure this is the only way I will sleep. Kiddo pushes his head onto my pillow. He rolls over my hair. He smacks my face with his arm. I roll over. He smacks his skull into my jaw. I roll over. He cries.

"Nursing? Mama, I want nursing!"

We nurse. He switches sides. The cycle repeats. This time he doesn't sleep, but sits up and starts singing. He plays with his animals. He looks out the window. He talks. He sings. Finally he lays down as close as he can to me and stills.

Then Christian's alarm goes off.

I don't know why this happened the way it did. All I know is the following three nights he slept through the night (THANK GOD!). Also he outgrew his new shoes. It happens. I'm just glad it doesn't happen all the time. At least there's that small mercy.

Seven Years Later: Marriage, Love, and Commitment

Seven years. Seven. Years. Wow.

Engaged

They made a movie about this year starring Marilyn Monroe. The year is supposed to be magical in some way, some kind of transformation. But...it's not. I mean, not like the movie would have you believe. There's no itch, in fact. If anything, I feel the opposite. But maybe that's because of the journey Christian and I shared. When you go through things, it connects you. It forces you to grow together or apart. We did the former.

It wasn't just about love. Marriage is more than love. In fact, love is not enough, or at least, not immature love.

I've heard love described many ways. I think I like this best - that it transitions - growing from an immature and primal urge into infatuation. From infatuation it moves to love because. From love because, it becomes love despite.

"Despite your failures, your screw ups, I love you."

India

I've heard marriage described as a shared memory - a history you share with another person. A set of experiences that allows you to reference things no one else knows, or can.

That's why old couples have their own language - words that carry so much weight and meaning, it is impossible to understand all the layers of understanding.

I think when we first started dating Christian and I already had our own language. Now, after nine years together and seven years married, everything we say to one another has so much meaning it would be impossible for other people to understand our conversations. Our communication is no longer analog, but digital. Hell, one shared look is like a sentence. On the upside, communication is efficient. On the downside, there's room for interpretation, so it's not always effective (and can be exclusionary if we slip into it too much in public).

But that's part of what it means to have shared experience. That's part of what it means to be married.

I've also heard marriage described as an apprenticeship in your partner - a person you can never fully know, who will continue to surprise and delight you all life long.

I'm still a new student to this married thing, but I know this - it is all these things and more. Christian continues to support, annoy, inspire, frustrate, encourage, and compliment as my partner in life. He is my best friend and confidante in all things. Because of him, my life has gone in unexpected directions, and I would not be the person I am today without him. I would not have Kiddo in my life. I would not be able to laugh at myself so completely or have that ounce of reason to ground me amid a freak-out moment.

I am so grateful for my little family - for Christian and Kiddo. I absolutely love them despite. I cherish our shared experience. I look forward to many more years of apprenticeship.

Three Leaps: Water, Language, & Sleep

I feel like I always say this, but it's true: This past week was huge for Kiddo (Psst - is parenthood always like this?).

First, he finally got in the ocean and - LOVED IT! Yes! He loved wading through the water. He loved the sand. He did not want to leave. He only willingly left when we explained we would come back another time.

*Blink*

Second, his language skills exploded...again. He uses possessives like my, mine, your, and yours. He uses three word sentences basically any time he speaks, and of course, Kiddo talks all the time. He does sometimes slip back into toddler babble when he doesn't have the words, but his words are recognizable around 50% of the time. He also repeats everything we say (Swearing and adult topics are COMPLETELY no-nos now, if they weren't already.). Music such as early Prince, Bruno Mars, and pretty much all rap from the 1990s until now is off the table. We're committed to Owl City, Kelly Clarkson, Raffi, and anything associated with his beloved Babybug Magazine.

Third, and probably the most exciting for me, HE SLEPT THROUGH THE NIGHT! Yes, it was only ONE time, but still. I got to sleep for six hours straight and it was...glorious.

I forgot what that much sleep can do for a person. But I really missed it. Really. It's been over two years since I slept a full night. I think I slept an entire six hours a few times during my pregnancy. I want to say twice. So I think that is three times I've slept a solid night in the past 2.5 years.

Yeah.

Of course, my niece, a whole year younger than Kiddo, sleeps through the night and has since she was like six months old. Every kid is different. Breastfeeding v. formula impacts sleeping. Cosleeping or not also changes nighttime dynamics. It's a complicated and mysterious thing. That said, I'm pretty sure the new room and bed makes a difference for Kiddo's longer sleeping times. I hope this continues, though I know there will be a kind of forward/back process as we slowly move towards sleeping through consistently.

It was an exciting time this past week. It kind of feels like it will continue to be that way for a while (if not forever). Even though some things are less than ideal (changing personal habits like music or sleep times), I frequently find myself overwhelmed by love and joy at the mere thought of Kiddo. He does something during the day, and I'll find myself smiling and giddy at the memory. I didn't expect that, but it happens almost every day now. It's one of those things parents don't really talk about, so it sneaks up on you. And trust me when I say, it is a hidden treasure, and just as glorious as sleeping for six hours straight.