BrooklynGirl

Mothers (Grrr)

I hope that I will never punch my daughter's buttons the way my mother punches mine.  I think it's accidental--which is the only way I can deal with it--but, man, it's infuriating.

Tonight while I was nursing The Girl and reading The Boy his bedtime story (and my mom was sipping a glass of chardonnay--not her first of the evening), she opined, "Maybe your breast milk is missing something because [The Girl] really loves bottles."

I am not a breastfeeding zealot, but still.  How is this comment useful?

He's Crafty

As I believe I've mentioned before, we're pretty lenient with the TV around here.  Sometimes a liberal dose of Noggin is the only way to keep The Boy in one reasonably safe place while I nurse The Girl.  I feel guilty about it though so I try to limit it: there's never adult TV on when The Boy is awake; there's never any TV on when The Boy eats; and on the weekends when there are enough grown-ups in the house to mount a successful man-to-man defense, there's as little TV on as possible.

Those are pretty lenient rules so they're not generally hard to live with.

Except when the Yankees are  locked in a tight race for the AL East, and they have two day games scheduled over the weekend.

We watched some of the games while The Boy was napping, but as soon as we heard him begin to stir, we turned the TV off. 

He came into the living room unhappy and sniffling.  "Wanna watch Wonder Pets," he  moaned.

"How about baseball?"  we offered.

"Wanna watch Wonder PETS!" he was resolute.

We went back and forth for awhile and finally we relented--one episode and then off to the park.

When he returned,  again  he  started in with, "Wanna watch Wonder Pets," but this time, we hung tough.  We denied several requests, and he seemed to step back for a moment to think.

"Wanna watch...baseball?"

Dissolve the Senate

I mean really. 

With everything that's going on in the world, they took the time to do this?

Option B

So far, The Boy is a B.   He's only had "school" 3 mornings, and it's been an abbreviated schedule.  Also, I've only actually left the premises for about an hour at a time, but so far, so good.  Next week is the real deal: 3 days from 9-2.  I'll attempt to leave as soon as possible after the drop off just to see how that goes and then sit on the stoop next door, cell phone in hand, in case things go badly.

Here's another thing that happens next week: the sitter leaves.  She had been taking The Boy a few days a week and now has been taking The Girl so I can be with The Boy at school, but as a result we are hemorrhaging cash.  So this must end. 

In truth, however, I am having a bit of sitter fatigue.  We settled into a routine that has been enormously helpful but that is also proving impossible to change.  Although I am still not what I would call confident as a parent, I do have ways I like to do things and there are ways in which I think The Boy needs things done--and the sitter does not always agree. 

For example: The sitter thinks it's fine for The Boy to walk alongside the stroller rather than sit in it.  I can work with that when it's just me and The Boy, but when it's me, The Boy, and The Girl (as it is whenever I pick him up), I need The Boy to be strapped in--it's just too terrifying (and time consuming) to walk the 10 blocks home from the sitter's when he's free range. 

I hope we'll still see the sitter from time to time, but it will be scary to let her go.  It's parenting without a net all over again.

Which Is Worse?

Option A:  You leave your child at school and he cries hysterically the whole time you're gone, then he screams, "Mommy" at the top of his lungs when you return and rushes into your arms for big hugs and kisses.

Option B: You leave your child at school and he barely notices you're gone, then when you return he looks up and says,  "Hi Mom" and then cries hysterically when he realizes he has to leave with you instead of staying and playing with the trains.

School!

The Boy starts "school" next week.  It's a very casual, mixed-age program that I chose primarily because 1) it's cheaper than the sitter;  2) a friend sent her kids there and they loved it; and 3) it's very convenient.

I'm sending him primarily for recreation (especially messy art projects that I'm too much of a wimp to do at home) and socialization.  I am specifically not interested in any sort of learning readiness curriculum because The Boy is just two, for heaven's sake, and there is time enough for all that later.

I'm optimistic that The Boy will love this.  He's used to being away from me when he's with the sitter so I don't think he'll have too many separation issues.  He loves being around other kids--especially older ones--so this should fit the bill.

But two things are interfering with my optimism:

1) Every communication I've received from the school has some sort of glaring typo in it (most recently, "congradulations").   I'm not pathological about spelling, and I'm not expecting The Boy to learn to spell in this program, but the typos make me nuts.*  Running spell check seems like a pretty basic human competency, and if the school director can't be trusted to do this, what other basic procedures might she tend to skip?

2)  The Boy has fallen in love with his sitter all over again.  This morning he stood at the window and called the sitter's name over and over again a full hour before she was scheduled to arrive.  School was supposed to me a more social, less expensive alternative to the sitter that would still allow me to have some solo time with The Girl, but now I feel like I'm scarring The Boy by taking him away from the sitter.

This is standard parenting angst, isn't it?

*As I've  commented elsewhere,  I'm only judgmental about misspellings in a professional setting.  I understand all about blogging, commenting, and emailing on the fly.

The Wall

Sometime in the wee hours of Tuesday morning I hit The Wall, that point where newborn adrenalin runs out and all you are left with is the overwhelming realization that you may never again sleep for more than 2 hours consecutively for the rest of your life.

I remember going through this with The Boy so I am trying to be sanguine and just stockpile the DVR with shows that lift the gloom during those middle of the night  feedings, but I confess that lately when I hear The Girl begin to rouse herself, I get a little weepy.

She's clearly growing and gaining weight, but she can still nurse for hours on end as soon as the sun goes down.  I talk a good game about breast feeding ambivalence, the fact is that I want to succeed at breast feeding:  it's cheap and convenient and not without its special moments of intimacy.  But the constant nursing is wearing me down.  I do supplement  with formula when The Girl seems especially hungry, but for the past few weeks, that has been all the time.

And an unexpected complication of formula supplementation is this: The Boy sees The Girl drinking from a bottle and he absolutely loses his mind if he doesn't get one too.  So, he's having his beverages in bottles these days (or he's ripping bottles of formula out of my hands and The Girl's mouth).

This stage will pass soon, right?