Battle Royale

I really hate second guessing myself. I try not to make a practice of it. But raising a toddler is no joke! And I find myself second guessing . . .er, myself a lot lately.

Take the other day at the park, for example. We got ready to leave and said “we’re leaving” about 5 times. Then, I walked away saying “mama’s leaving. Time to go! Let’s go!” And M stood nearby and followed up with “mama’s leaving! Let’s go!” about 5 more times until our kid decided he was ready to leave and followed after us.

During this exchange, I suddenly saw myself through my own pre-mother eyes.

Two years ago, I would have silently, if not snarkily (and probably very judgmentally), willed myself to “pick that kid up and tell him you are leaving. Be the boss! Make him go!”

Now, as a parent, I am walking the fine line of choosing my battles. Sometimes, like when leaving the park, it’s just easier to let him come to his own decision to leave rather than have a Battle Royale over it and drag him kicking and screaming from the sand. Other times, like meal times or bed times, it’s better to have it out and that way at-least-he-knows-I’m-serious. But even during those times, I see myself from outside of myself and the awful thought sneaks in “is this fight really worth it? What am I trying to accomplish here?”

Here’s a for instance. Last night during bed time, C was having a hard time settling. I told him to lay down about eleventy times. Finally, I told him that if he didn’t lay down on mama’s bed, he was going to have to go lay in C’s bed. Up he popped again. So, over to C’s bed he went, and I sat like a sentinel to lay him down again and again and again, while he writhed and fought and cried “way down in mama’s bed!”. I explained that I had told him he had to lay down and that if he didn’t he would have to lay down in his own bed.

Repeat battle scene.

At this point, I am doubting myself like crazy.
“Is this worth it?”
“What am I trying to accomplish here?”
“Just let him lay down in your bed. What’s the harm?”
“Is he even learning anything from all this (besides how to hate his bed)?”

Then, with him sitting up (again) and crying (still), I remembered a battle tactic that works wonders at bedtime. I told him to sing me a song. He looked at me and cried “Bus!” and I told him he needed to lay down. So, he laid down, I held his hand and sang our extended version of The Wheels on the Bus to him. He calmed down, stayed laying down, and then transferred to mama’s bed to snuggle against me until he fell asleep.

[Now, I know (I KNOW!) this kind of bedtime routine is not for everyone. I know that there will come a day when he will need to have his own bed in his own room. I know some people find our 20-40 minute bedtime routine indulgent and slightly loony. (I would have when I wore my pre-mother eyes.) I know he should not still be waking during the night for milk. But he does. And we do. And that’s the way it is. And every time I start to think about trying to change everything, I lay next to him at night, my nose buried in his hair as he goes to sleep, and I think about future days when he won’t want me to snuggle him to sleep, when he will reject my kisses on his head and cheeks, when he’ll want to be left to fall asleep on his own. So, for now, it’s what we do. End of sidebar.]

It is a careful line to walk, this raising a toddler business. One day – like when they’re 18 to 20 months – you’ll finally feel like you’ve got it down. Then 20 months hits, 22 months hits, and little tantrums spark up, and sitting in a highchair (or anywhere) to eat goes out the window, and nap times and bedtimes get harder, and he’s a pseudo-terror some evenings at the witching hour of 6:00.

But you know what? Mostly, he listens. Mostly, he does what he’s asked. Mostly, he’s calm. Mostly, he’s a good little boy.

And his mother?
Well, I'm still having a Battle Royale with myself and am still learning about which battles I want to pick.

But you know what? Tonight when he was starting to pop his head up off the pillows on mama's bed, I reminded him about last night. I told him "remember the rule? you have to lay down on mama's bed." And you know what else? It worked.




C says all sorts of things these days, some of which is surprising, some of which is hilarious! I have to get these down because I don't want to forget.

"You hear dat?"
"Wion (Lion) roar! Bunny pop pop pop (hop hop hop)!" *
"Way (lay) down!"
"Nice twuck (truck)!"
"Big toe, wittle toe"
"I want teary-o (cereal)/cheese/apple/canny (candy)"
"Be wiiiiight (right) back"
"I tow (throw) it"
"I seep (sweep)"
"I wike (like) it"
"I bibe (drive) it"
"Kick yer butt!" **
"I get that"/"I want it"
"Mayman (mailman) got it"
"Giyout! (get out) [of bed]"
"Go pay (play)"
"Geegee Chist (Jesus Christ)"
"Touchet" (touch it)/"Don't touchet (touch it)"
"Wun wun wun!" (run run run)/"Wuneen past! (running fast)"
"Guy walkeen (walking)"
"Get down get down get down" ***
"Aye (I) can't do it" ****
"Weabit dere (leave it there)"
"Dada pumeen (coming) back"
"Coss steet (cross street)"
"Cayet boice (quiet voice)"

*inside joke. he roared and I asked him if he was a lion. he said "bunny" but roared anyway.
**said in a growly voice when he's mad. I laugh behind my hand, then put on a straight face and tell him "that's not nice. please don't say that."
***trying to sing a disco song like M.
****might as well be a curse word! Post on this one coming up.

This list could go on and on, literally: the kid learns something new every day! Oh, and his laugh! His laugh!! He has the best laugh ever. He's a "punny" (funny) kid and he knows it!



Things I Knew and Things I Guess At

I knew it! I KNEW IT!

Right around the time I was dealing with this and this and going to a neurologist and taking anti-inflammatories and muscle relaxers and so forth, I was convinced that my ectopic pregnancy was related to becoming unexpectedly pregnant while on those types of meds.

Then, today, I read this vindicating article that basically says that NSAIDs are correlated with a higher risk of miscarriage!

(I totally knew it!)

On a very related note, Google should really do a corporate acquisition of McDonald's ancient "over a million served" slogan, and change it to "millions upon millions aided in self-diagnosis"!

Because here's the thing: it's not too big of a digital leap to go from searching "hormones migraines" to "estrogen dominance migraines" to "estrogen dominance B6" to "estrogen dominance migraines luteal phase".

Not if you're me, that is. And I just happen to be me, so, you know. (Remember when I was convinced I had LPD, but turned out to be pregnant? Yeah, um, that was fun.)

Here's my theory-slash-self-diagnosis: I am estrogen dominant. Which makes me vitamin B deficient. Which makes me have low progesterone. Which makes my luteal phases short (or, in the case of - oh, right now - practically non-existent).

So, I have been taking 100 mg of B6 every day for. . . (checks calendar) . . . 28 days now. Which may or may not be helping with the progesterone-slash-vitamin B deficiency. Which may or may not be the reason I have been spotting and/or bleeding for 23 days, including a particularly crampy period. Which may or may not be causing my current (4-days and counting) migraine headache.

Such is the life of a self-diagnoser.

Next up? Progesterone cream! (I've even started taking basal body temps to help me with that one. . .)



Little Voice

Some moms get all bummed about their babies getting bigger. I myself am guilty of looking at C's baby pictures both with fondness and a certain longing.

But his increasing shoe size and growing body don't make me sad. What I want to never change is his little voice.

It's the best thing in the world to hear him talk! Today, he's walking around saying "ocurt aisins" (yogurt raisins). Last night I laughed and laughed as I was putting him to bed, because he flicked his hand at himself and said "Poof! Egg!" (because his Nana and Tata tell him "want me to make you an egg? Poof! You're an egg!"). I called him "silly" and he got serious and said "Tata!", like he was saying "not me, it's Tata."

I love to hear the way he says his numbers and letters, how he tells me his "car go past (fast)" and how red and yellow are finally starting to get consonants at the beginning ("wed" and "wellow"). Also, every animal either goes "eee awww" or "moo", except dogs, who definitely go "woof" and roosters, who go "cockadoo".

I am trying to get all of this on video, but every time he sees the red light come on the Vado, he says "pone" (phone) and tries to grab for it.

So, can't his little voice just stay the same forever?


"May you be in love every day for the next 20,000 days. And out of that love, remake a world." -Ray Bradbury