Christmas update

Now that we've made it through Christmas and are starting to dig our way out from under the presents, wrapping paper, and junk food, I thought it  might be a good idea to update the blog. We had a great Christmas... but we somehow ended up with about three times as many presents for Perrin as we had intended to give him. Sigh. Score another point for the commercialization of Christmas. I just get so excited when I'm shopping for him and can't seem to help myself from buying just one more thing (then another thing, then another thing.) Anyway, at least we didn't go too crazy. It's not like we bought him a car or anything. Oh, wait...

In my defense, just look at that sweet face! How can anyone say no to that?

Christmas with a toddler

This is Perrin's second Christmas season, and I can already tell a big difference from last year. Last Christmas he was ten months old. He was crawling and babbling and starting to eat some table food. This year he's walking, talking, stealing my goodies when I'm not looking, and fully indulging in the many festivities of Christmas.

Last year, he wasn't terribly interested in our Christmas tree. This year, he broke three ornaments the first two days it was up. I did some clever re-arranging and decorated the bottom limbs mostly with cute plushy animals. Now Perrin can't break anything. (He does like to take my beloved giraffe ornament and pop its eyes out of socket, though.)

Last year, he barely understood the concept of opening presents. With some help, he was able to rip the paper off a few on Christmas day. This year, I have to keep a close eye on him because he keeps trying to unwrap presents (and has succeeded once... luckily it was a present for Trey and not for Perrin, so he wasn't incredibly impressed with what he found).

Last year, Perrin didn't do any fun Christmas activities other than being dragged along to a couple parties or to look at lights. This year, I already have two adorable ornaments that he made while at Mother's Day Out and some great pictures and memories of his first cookie-frosting adventure. (We stripped him down to just a diaper and gave him frosting and cookies and told him to "paint." He splotched some frosting on a few of the cookies, then realized the frosting tasted good. I had to take it away from him after he'd shoveled 4 or 5 spoonfuls into his mouth.)

Last year, he didn't understand much about why we celebrate Christmas. This year, he still doesn't. But he sure is having a blast playing with an interactive nativity set that tells the Christmas story through fun poems and miniature gift boxes that he gets to open. I was explaining to him one day that Mary and Joseph were married, so I made them kiss to illustrate the point. Now Perrin makes Mary smooch all over everyone. (According to Perrin, she seems to be particularly fond of the Angel Gabriel. I don't remember reading that part in the Bible. Oh, well... we'll get it right one of these days.) Also, you know you have a toddler in the house when you find baby Jesus in your shoe on a regular basis.

It's crazy how much he's changed and grown up in a year.  ::sigh:: While I look forward to the day when I don't have to worry for the safety of my Christmas ornaments or clean frosting out of his hair, I'm really going to miss these special holiday moments with a curious, spunky not-quite-two-year-old. Christmas loses a little of its appeal once you become an adult, but it becomes kind of magical again when you have a little one in the house.

Ick

Perrin and I take a shower together pretty much every morning. It’s the easiest way for me to keep my eye on him while I’m showering; plus, he loves playing in the water. Yesterday morning, after I had showered, I plugged the drain and ran some warm water so that Perrin could stay in the tub and play while I dried and dressed. After about ten minutes, I asked him to pull the drain to start letting the water out. So he did.

As the water slowly drained, Perrin suddenly stood then squatted down halfway and began grunting. It took me a few seconds to realize what he was doing. By the time I figured it out and rushed to hoist him out of the water and onto his potty, it was too late—a floating #2 was already merrily making its way downstream.

This is the kind of thing that other parents do NOT tell you about when they’re explaining how wonderful and fulfilling it is to be a parent. (For the record, it truly is wonderful and fulfilling to be a parent, but some moments are a little more blessed than others.)

I don’t want to get too graphic here, but let’s just say that I felt like Perrin and I both needed to take a swim in bleach by the time I had captured and disposed of Perrin’s “boat.”

So today’s a new day… and I’m a little scared to let Perrin in the shower with me again.

Time to earn your keep, boy!

Perrin loves doing chores. I'm not sure where he got that from... certainly not me or Trey. But we figure we ought to take full advantage of his helpful attitude before he realizes that chores really aren't that fun after all. So I've been putting him to work. Here are his regular tasks:

1. Feed the dog. Theoretically, all this involves is Perrin scooping a cupful of dog food and pouring it into Molly's bowl. In reality, it's more like Perrin scooping up dog food and pouring half into Molly's bowl, half onto the floor, then diving back into the food container and shoving as many pieces into his mouth as he can before I can get to him. The half-chewed globs usually go to Molly... if I can salvage them in time.  

2. Take out the bathroom trash. This is easily Perrin's favorite chore. If he sees me bagging up the trash, he runs and grabs it from me and yells, "Grash! Grash!" (Trash). We go outside together and I lift him up so he can throw it in the trash can. The only problem is that he likes to hang onto the bag for a while, peering into the mysterious depths of the big, outdoor garbage can. And let me tell you, if there are some dirty diapers or chicken bones out there, it gets stinky in a hurry. Sometimes I'm holding Perrin with one hand, holding the lid with the other, and begging him to please, please toss the trash in so I can close the lid. The smell doesn't seem to bother him. I guess if you don't mind sitting around in your own poop, a little garbage smell isn't going to bother you much either.

3. Pick up toys. It's amazing how even very young toddlers can learn to put toys away in a box. Perrin was doing this before he could even walk, so I guess you could say he's had lots of experience. Here's my issue with it: sometimes getting Perrin to put away his toys ends up causing more of a mess. Sometimes he misses the box. Sometimes he gets distracted while cleaning and finds new toys to play with before he's finished picking up the old ones. And sometimes he gets a little TOO into cleaning and starts throwing virtually everything into the toy box--including sippy cups (think week-old milk at the bottom of a toy chest...ew), remote controls (fast-forward several hours and Trey and I are looking everywhere trying to find the dang thing), library books (we've donated lots of money to them this year--against our will), and DVDs (no cases, thoroughly scratched).

4. Help with laundry. When Perrin sees the laundry baskets come out, the first thing he wants to do is go for a ride. So I push him around for a bit, then it's time to get down to business. Perrin climbs on top of an ice chest by our washing machine and helps throw the laundry in. He also spends a significant amount of time splashing the water out. When it's time to move the clothes from the washer to the dryer, he's happy to help. I'll hand him small articles like socks or underwear, which he'll drop on the floor at least twice before hurling into the dryer.

And then there are other chores that he tries to help with but just can't. He is constantly dragging my broom out and attempting to sweep the floor like Mommy. If he can manage to control the broom for even half a second, the most he accomplishes is to relocate the dog hair from one spot to another.

He also desperately wants to help with dishes, but he gets confused about whether we're taking things out of the dishwasher or putting things in. If he decides we're taking things out, he'll grab anything he can reach and dump it into the silverware drawer. He hasn't quite figured out that not everything goes in that one tiny drawer. If he decides we're putting things in the dishwasher, he'll grab anything in reach--which usually ends up being a box of crackers or a can of beans from the pantry--and start loading. I appreciate the sentiment, but sometimes I wish he'd just go watch some TV.

Cutest chicken in the world

Guess who won Best Costume at the Sherwood Forest Halloween Festival... our cute little chicken! He even makes adorable chicken noises (bawk bawk bawk)! Good call, judges.

Time Out

Perrin's definitely reached an age where he is in need of regular discipline. His pediatrician told us at our last checkup that we can start experimenting with "time out." Generally the rule is that you put a child in time out for the same number of minutes as his age. But she admitted that it was unlikely we'd get Perrin to sit still for a full minute. She said 10 seconds was a more attainable goal.

So last week I decided to give it a try. I thought he'd probably fight against it or wouldn't sit still for a full ten seconds. But what ended up happening was something I totally didn't see coming. He loved it. He thinks time out is more hilarious than sneezes, wet dogs, and flashlights put together.

I'm not sure what to think about this. On one hand, can it really be considered a form of discipline or punishment if he thinks it's the coolest game ever? On the other hand, when he's throwing a tempter tantrum, time out immediately makes him calm down. He looks at the wall and giggles while I count, then he gets up a walks away acting like a civilized toddler once again.

I was talking to Trey on the phone one afternoon, explaining my dilemma. "Perrin actually likes time out," I said. "Can you believe it?" Perrin perked up when he heard me say "time out," and he immediately trotted over to his corner, plopped down on the floor, and patiently waited for me to start counting. "He's in his time out corner!" I told Trey. "He must have heard me talking about it!" So I counted to ten. Then Perrin got up and resumed playing with his Buzz Lightyear.

What a strange child we have.

Camp out!

We just got back from our first camping trip with Perrin. We've been wanting to take him camping for a while because it seemed like the type of thing he would really enjoy (and we weren't wrong about that). But we also thought it would be a good idea to stick to just one night away our first time (and we weren't wrong about that either).

When we got to the camp site (Toad Suck park just outside of Conway), Perrin probably thought he was in toddler paradise: playgrounds and bugs and dirt and water and dogs and kids! Woo-hoo! He went into explorer mode right away and had to test/examine/taste/throw everything. I saw him bending down and looking intently at something so I said, "Perrin, what do you have there?" So he picked up whatever it was and brought it to me. I was expecting a rock or leaf or something, but it was a giant, squirmy daddy-long-legs. I quickly retreated and asked him to please, please put that thing down. So what did he do? He threw it at me. Yep.

After Mr. Long Legs made his escape, Perrin began sampling the bountiful snacks of the great outdoors. Meaning he put a rock in his mouth... and when I had pulled that out and told him not to eat rocks, he starting licking a tree instead. So I gave him a proper snack and then took him to the playground to distract him from further incidences.

Trey and I spent most of the afternoon and early evening chasing after Perrin, so we were all pretty exhausted by Perrin's bed time. Here was the real test of whether or not camping with a toddler was a good idea or not: would Perrin go to sleep on his own in the tent? The only way we can get him to sleep these days is to stick him in his bed and close the door and just leave him until he nods off on his own. So we decided to give it a try. We laid out pillows and blankets all over the tent floor so that it was like a giant bed. Then we gave him a kiss, said good night, and zipped him in. At first he stood watching us through the mesh flap on the front of the tent. Then he disappeared and we saw the tent swaying back and forth, back and forth. I'm still not sure what exactly he was doing in there, but I believe he was trying to escape. After a few minutes, he got really quiet and the tent stopped moving. Success!

Trey and I stayed up for a couple more hours enjoying the fire and watching the stars come out over the river. When we finally came to bed, Perrin was snuggled into the far corner of the tent, sound asleep.

He slept like a champ until about 5AM when he woke up and suddenly realized he was in a tent with Mommy and Daddy. What fun! He starting shrieking, "Mama! Dada! Mama! Dada!" and began using us as his own personal jungle gym. Then he snuggled up next to me and began poking my nose and saying, "nose! nose!" I ignored him, hoping he would get the hint and go back to sleep. So instead, he started sticking his finger up my nose. You just can't ignore that. Finally he moved on from my nose and started pointing out other features: eyes, hair, and "bub brows" which apparently means eye brows. Once he got bored with that game, he started yelling, "coookieeeeee! Coooookieeeeeee!" I was a little afraid he was going to wake up all of our fellow campers, so I finally got up and fixed him breakfast in the dark. (I didn't feed him cookies though, in case you're wondering.)

We're back home now, pretty tired but not too grouchy. Overall it was a pretty good trip. Perrin obviously had a blast. We just might take him camping again sometime. After we've fully recovered from this trip, of course.

Things (or babies) that go bump in the night

Perrin woke up at 5:00 this morning in a really cranky mood. He was banging around in his crib and wailing. So I did what any other sane and loving mother would do at that ungodly hour--I ignored him. 5:00 is waaaaay too early. My plan was for him to go back to sleep and wake up in a cheerful, snuggly mood.

Suddenly, I heard a loud BOOM. And then he was REALLY screaming. I rushed into his room and found him on the floor in front of his crib, crying his eyes out. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later--it had actually surprised me that my little daredevil hadn't attempted to climb out of his crib until now--but now that it's happened, I'm not sure what to do. I don't think he's ready for a toddler bed. (I can just imagine how much fun that'll be to get him to take a nap when I can't secure him in his cell. I mean, uh, crib.) But we also can't have him climbing out of his crib and falling on the floor.

So what's a mom to do? Do I bite the bullet and convert his crib to a toddler bed even though he's only 19 months old and more likely to play with his toys all night than sleep if given the choice? Do I hope it was a fluke or that he learned his lesson and won't try it again? Do I invest in dozens of pillows to pad the floor around his crib so he'll at least have somewhere soft to land?

Thankfully, all he has to show for his morning acrobatics is a little red bump on his forehead. But I'm still feeling torn. If you have (or have had) a toddler, when did you move them to a toddler bed? Did you have this problem? I could use some experienced-mommy wisdom.

The sun will come out tomorrow

Today was kind of rough all day long, starting at about 3:00 this morning when the thunder storms woke me up. I lay awake for the next couple of hours trying to ignore the rumbling outside long enough to fall back asleep. I think I finally drifted off again sometime just after 5. And wouldn't you know it--Perrin woke up calling "Mama! Mama!" at about 5:30. Ugh. For those of you who don't know me very well, I do not cope well if I don't get my beauty rest. And I had plenty to cope with today.

For starters, I realized my favorite pair of jeans has a gaping hole in the back pocket. Who knows how long I've been advertising my underwear through that hole. To make matters worse, Perrin was kind of a brat today. I gave him milk this morning--he threw a fit. I tried to go to the bathroom alone--he threw a fit. I tossed his toothbrush in the trash after he dipped it in toilet water--he threw a fit. I wouldn't let him eat the year-old charred bits of who knows what that have settled into the bottom of our toaster oven--you guessed it, he threw a fit. He went down for a nap around lunch time (thank you, thank you, Jesus! Freedom!) but only slept for an hour. One measly hour. Which means I didn't have time to get all my work done that I needed to do. To top it all off, I had a fiasco with my twice-baked potatoes this evening. I don't want to get into it, but let's just say there are half-cooked chunks of potato ALL OVER the kitchen. I'm not kidding.

Thank goodness Trey came home when he did--I was about to throw a fit on the kitchen floor right along with Perrin (who was mad at me this time because I was cooking instead of playing with him and his piggy bank). We ate dinner, then Trey ran a bath for me and picked out an assortment of bubbles and bath salts for me to choose from. He even hooked my iPod up to a speaker and brought it into the bathroom for me. I took a long, steamy bath while the boys went to Walmart. ::Bliss::

Funny how the world can seem much cheerier after a few minutes of alone time and a relaxing bubble bath. And Trey even promised to do the dishes for me tonight after Perrin goes to bed. Now if I can just convince him to clean up those stupid potatoes too.

I want to end on a happy note, so I'm going to list some things I'm thankful for:
1. My dear, sweet husband who isn't feeling well but could sense that I was at my breaking point and has allowed me to be selfish and whiny tonight
2. My sweet baby boy who is a royal pain in the rear but is also the absolute joy of my heart
3. Tomorrow is a new day. And I have new jeans and no plans to come within ten feet of a potato.

Mother's Day Out

It was a bittersweet day here at the Richardson house. My baby boy spent five hours away from home in the company of strangers at his very first day of Mother's Day Out, where he will hopefully be spending every Tuesday from 9-2. He looked so grown up this morning in his brand new jeans, holding his moose-themed lunch box. When we got to his classroom, he clung to me for a few minutes. Then he saw a plastic banana on the floor and forgot all about Mommy. I had intended to give him a hug and kiss goodbye, but he was pretty enthralled with that banana. So I quietly whispered "goodbye" to my sweet baby boy and drifted out the door feeling much sadder than I had expected to.

Perrin and I have been practically inseparable for the entire 18 months he's been alive (or longer than that, if you count the 9 months before he was born when we were REALLY inseparable). The only people who have ever taken care of him for short bursts of time are people he's known his whole life. I was nervous for him ALL DAY LONG. Would he look around and wonder where I was? Would he play well with the other kids? Would he be lonely, scared, confused, angry? And did those nursery workers really think they were going to get my little ball of fire to curl up on one of those nap mats and fall asleep just like that? Ha.

After a trip to the office to do some work, I came home to change clothes and then left to pick him up a little early. When I poked my head into his classroom, he was playing with a dump truck. He really didn't seem too traumatized at all. I knelt beside him and said, "Hi, Perrin!" He glanced up at me and then tinkered with the dump truck some more. Nope, clearly not traumatized. Finally he turned around a gave me a great big hug. That's what I needed.

His teacher told me he'd had a little bit of a rough morning. He cried when he realized I wasn't there. (Poor, poor baby! It's probably good that he didn't start crying until after I was out of earshot or I don't know if I would have had the resolve to leave him). But he ate most of his lunch, played with lots of toys, and even took a nap. I'm impressed.

I told Perrin it was time to go, so he took off across the room saying, "Box! Box! Box! Box!" I had no idea what he was talking about, but then he dug his lunch box out of a big pile of lunch boxes and said, "Bye bye!" I had kind of forgotten about his lunch box. I guess he knows the drill better than I do.

So, we both survived. Perrin may have even handled it better than I did. Plus he looked super duper cute carrying around his moose lunch box. See for yourself:

A day at the movies

Yesterday, on a whim, I decided to take Perrin to the dollar theater to see Kung Fu Panda 2. I was fully aware of the craziness of taking an 18-month-old to the movies, but since it was only a dollar, I figured I didn't have much to lose (except a dollar... and possibly my sanity. That's all).

We went to a show in the middle of the day, so we practically had the theater to ourselves except for a man there with his daughter (who looked about 3) and someone who sat in the very back row all alone. Pretty ideal conditions, really. No angry mobs to ambush us when we would inevitably destroy the ambiance.

I contemplated grabbing one of the booster seats provided for little kids, but I figured Perrin would prefer to sit on my lap. We found our seats, and I needed to put down my things and get situated so I briefly stuck Perrin in the seat beside me. It promptly folded him in half. And he let me know in no uncertain terms that he did NOT appreciate that. I rescued him from the mean old chair and let him snuggle up with me.

For a little while, Perrin was a perfect angel. He sat in my lap and sipped his milk and snacked on raisins (yes, I snuck in food and milk. Come on, I'm not going to feed my toddler coke and gummy bears for his afternoon snack). I think he was pretty fascinated by the gigantic screen. But after about half an hour, he was ready to explore. He ran up and down our row, which I didn't mind since it was empty and I could easily keep an eye on him. He came back to me every now and then to watch more of the movie. Then he got a little braver and wandered out of our row and into the main aisle--which meant it was time for me to chase after him. As soon as he saw I was coming for him, he starting shrieking and giggling at the top of his lungs and ran straight for the front of the theater. I chased him in front of the screen, ducking the whole time so I wouldn't block the view (try running and ducking while chasing a giggling toddler sometime... it's LOADS of fun). I finally caught him and realized he was really, really stinky.

I let Perrin walk to and from the bathroom for his diaper change, then we went back in the theater. But I guess that little taste of freedom ruined him for the rest of the movie--from that point on, he thought it was a great big game of hide-and-seek in the dark. I got tired of that pretty quickly, so we left. In all, we saw about an hour of the movie--which was more than half. So it wasn't too bad, I guess.

Watch out, Everest!

Perrin has become quite a climber. He's always loved going up and down stairs and pulling himself onto furniture. But he's taken it to a new level recently (literally). Four times yesterday (four times!) I had to pull him off our dining room table. He had climbed up, seated himself directly in the middle, and begun dumping salt all over the table and floor (I knew I shouldn't have shown him how a salt shaker works... stupid, stupid, stupid).

He can also climb up on our bar stools and reach our kitchen counters. Nothing is safe anymore! I guess it's about time to bolt the bookcases to the wall. We see shelves; he sees ladders.

1 job + 1 job = 2 much craziness

It's sometimes tough to balance my two jobs (part time at FamilyLife, full time mommy). I'm so glad I can work from home, but it means that occasionally the two worlds collide. And not in a good way.

I had just gotten Perrin up from a nap yesterday when my cell phone rang. It was someone from work, calling to discuss some details for a training seminar we're organizing in a couple weeks. I sat down at my work computer so I could look over a spreadsheet while I was talking. I figured Perrin would be fine wandering around the house by himself for 15 or 20 minutes. After I'd been on the phone a couple minutes, I heard the pitter patter of his little feet running down the hall towards me. I was still focused on the computer screen, so I didn't bother looking at him until he thrust his hand at me and said, "This! This!" As in, "Look at this, Mommy!" I looked. His hand and arm up to his elbow were COVERED in huge globs of vaseline. I cradled the phone against my shoulder and rushed him into the kitchen to try to rinse it off. But guess what? Vaseline doesn't rinse off. And his icky hand was touching everything within reach. I grabbed about 20 paper towels and began wiping him down, all while trying to continue my conversation in a somewhat professional manner. I had to run back and forth from my computer a few times to answer some questions. By then, the vaseline was all over me, my clothes, and Perrin's hair. I finally got him marginally clean, then I dared to approach the mess in my bedroom. Yep, just as I suspected--vaseline all over the floor. I got off the phone and started cleaning.

Hmm... an office job is starting to look kind of nice again.

Vacation!

We're back from spending over a week at the beach. (Incidentally, it was the same beach where we got married over five years ago. Awwwwww!) Perrin LOVED it! He played in the sand, buried my feet, got knocked over by the waves a few times, chased a few seagulls, and tried desperately to catch a giant crab.

Perrin rode home with my parents, so Trey and I had a few days of baby-free beach fun at the end of our vacation. The highlight was going jet skiing and coming across a group of about 15 dolphins. We also walked on the beach at night listening to live music, ate at lots of great restaurants, tried a ropes course that was waaaay more terrifying than I expected it to be, saw a magic show, and got great tans! We may be 20 pounds heavier now that we're back home, but at least we have a nice glow!

Busy busy busy day

It's 8:00 PM and I am sitting down to relax for the FIRST time today. Seriously. We all woke up this morning at 6:00, as usual. I fed, bathed, and dressed both me and Perrin and packed a lunch for Trey for work. Once Trey was gone, Perrin and I went grocery shopping. We came home and unloaded the groceries, watered the flowers, then headed off to the library to watch the Irish dancers. We came home, and I whipped up a quick lunch for Perrin then put him down for a nap. Then I clocked in on my work computer and worked for an hour and a half. I also roasted a butternut squash and made applesauce muffins for tomorrow's breakfast (Perrin woke up about halfway through the cooking). Meanwhile, I kept getting text messages from Trey saying he was in the ER with a kidney stone and might need me to come get him. Around 2:30, Perrin and I drove to Jacksonville so I could drop him off for a play date. Then I got a call from Trey saying he'd been discharged, and he did indeed need me to pick him up. So I drove all the way to Little Rock, picked up hubby, stopped on the way home to let him lean out of the car and puke, and finally made it home and put him to bed. Then I mixed some bleach and water and got on my hands and knees and scrubbed the tile floor in our kitchen and dining room--just because it desperately needed to be done. I realized I needed to go pick Perrin up, so I washed up, threw on some clothes, and drove like crazy back to Jacksonville. Once I got Perrin, I raced home and cooked a quick dinner for the two of us. Trey was writhing in pain by then, so Perrin and I took his prescriptions up to Walmart to get them filled. The pharmacist said it would be 30 minutes, but it was actually an hour. Perrin and I ran (literally-RAN) back and forth across Walmart for the entire stinking hour. I got us back home as quickly as possible, drugged up hubby, then got Perrin all ready for bed. Now he's in his crib talking to the wall and I am lying on the couch with hardly enough energy to write this blog. No clue about  Trey... he doesn't seem to be writhing in pain anymore. Guess I ought to go check on him.

I've been wondering lately how hectic life would be with two children. I think I have an idea now.

Book Babies

This summer I've been taking Perrin to a program called "Book Babies" at our local library. It's a story time designed for babies with lots of singing, hand motions, rattles, and fun. Unlike other story times we've been to, Perrin is one of the oldest ones in this particular group. If you put him in a room full of 2 or 3 year olds, he blends in pretty well. But put him in a room full of 6-12 month olds, and he seems downright aggressive. We've been to three Book Babies so far, and Perrin has already accomplished all of the following:

Threw a shoe at a girl

Spilled about 50 cheerios all over the floor
Threw a cup at a girl
Stole another baby's toy
Ripped a page out of a book

Ran away from me about 5,397 times within a half hour span (one of those times he made it into the adjoining bathroom and put his hand in the toilet water before I caught up to him)

Stole another baby's snacks and started eating them

Gosh, when you look at it in a list like that, he sounds like a bit of a hellion, huh? The good thing is that none of the other parents seem the least bit phased by his antics. And he has his moments of sweetness too--he passes out the bells to everyone, he giggles when we sing the elevator song, and he tries to share his milk with anyone who comes within ten feet of us (it's only fair since he helps himself to anything that lands in his vicinity). I've also found that I'm much more tolerant of other people's kids these days. Hmm... funny how that happens when you become a parent.

Summer fun for cheapskates

These summer days can get rather long and boring, so I've been trying to come up with fun things to do with Perrin. We're taking full advantage of our library's programs--story time on Thursday mornings plus special events throughout the week. But I still have lots of free time to fill.

Today I decided I wanted to take Perrin on a mommy/son date. But where to go? There are actually LOTS of things to do--if you have money to spend. The tricky thing is finding stuff to do for free. So I loaded him in the car and drove into North Little Rock, not exactly sure what we would end up doing. Then I spotted Petsmart. Perfect! I gave Perrin the unofficial tour and let him press his face against the rodents' glass homes (he liked the guinea pigs the best). He was also rather fascinated with the lizards and birds. Then we visited the aquarium. He even said "fish!" (Well, sort of. He actually said, "ish" but I knew what he meant.) By the look on his face, you would have thought we were at the zoo. He had a blast.

Next stop: the indoor amusement park! Also known as Toys-R-Us. Against my better mommy judgment, I let him loose in the store instead of putting him in a shopping cart. There were a few times I had to straighten up an aisle after he'd gone down it, but for the most part he was pretty good. He tickled Elmo and danced with Micky. He threw a ball at me. He test drove a car and rode a rocking bull. I could almost hear him thinking, "WHY exactly have you never taken me here before?"

We were pretty hot and thirsty, and it just happened to be happy hour at Sonic. I ordered a large cherry limeade and brought Perrin into the front seat with me while we were parked to help me drink it. He was far more interested in pushing the buttons on my radio, so we ended up listening to lots of static and a few pieces of country songs. But whatever, it was his date so I left it up to him.

After a quick stop by a park to go down the slide once or twice, we headed back home. And of course, he threw a screaming temper tantrum along the way. It's a good thing because our date surely wouldn't have been complete without that.

Just another day on life's roller coaster

This past week has been a whirlwind of emotions. I found out on Wednesday that I was pregnant. Four pregnancy tests just don’t lie, even though we weren’t trying to get pregnant and had taken what I thought were basically fail-proof measures to keep from getting pregnant right now. In those first few hours, my attitude went from shock to acceptance to a modicum of excitement. When Trey came home from work, we talked about how crazy it would be to become a family of four. We calculated my due date—February 7th, which would make our two children almost exactly two years apart. Another February baby! I barely slept thinking of all the changes that were coming up.

The next morning, I realized pretty early that I was most likely having a miscarriage. The bleeding continued throughout the day Thursday… then Friday… then Saturday… then Sunday. I told Trey that I was sure I had lost the baby. I kept taking pregnancy tests, expecting them to go from positive to negative. But I had another positive test. Then another. Then another. Dare I hope that I hadn’t actually lost the baby? I did some research online (always the perfect way to make yourself go absolutely bonkers), and read stories from women who’d gone through this exact thing and managed to have a perfectly healthy pregnancy. Was it possible? Had I grieved too soon?

I made a doctor’s appointment for this afternoon. The doctor confirmed what I already knew somewhere deep down—I had in fact miscarried.

I almost wished that I haven’t even taken a pregnancy test. I would have just assumed my period came a few days late. No big deal. No roller coaster of emotions. But then I had to ask myself, do I really wish I’d never known? And I think I have to be honest and say I’m glad I found out, glad I have the chance to honor and grieve the little life that grew inside me for such a short amount of time. I feel some sadness now thinking about what could have been—two kids exactly two years apart, something I didn’t think I wanted until I couldn’t have it anymore. But going through this has also made me hug Perrin a little tighter and feel thankful all over again for his good health and the blessing he’s been to us. He’ll make a good big brother one of these days.

The phone says it best

This morning was rough… I was getting a bath ready for Perrin and he snuck in behind me and threw his toy phone in there. The water made the phone somehow get stuck on the word “hello” and it kept saying it over and over again really fast, but it never quite got the whole word out so it sounded more like “Hellhellhellhellhellhell…” While I was drying off the phone and trying to get all the water out, Perrin began digging through the bathroom trash and throwing bits into the tub. I rescued as much of the floating mess as I could and suddenly realized that he stunk. So I went to change his diaper, and it was AWFUL. He squirmed away from me and got poop all over the blanket he’d been on. I cleaned him up and set him on the floor naked since I was getting ready to put him in the tub. While I was cleaning up the poop mess, he peed on the carpet. Meanwhile, the stupid phone was still in the background saying, “Hellhellhellhellhellhell.” I had to agree.

Anyone wanna babysit? Anyone?

To whom it may concern

Dear neighbors: I'm sorry my son keeps finding the panic button on my keys and setting off my car alarm. I know you especially don't like it when he does that at 5:30 in the morning.

Dear husband: I'm sorry Perrin keeps smashing the remote on the floor or hiding it in weird places. Even now, I have no clue where it is or if it's still in one piece. I suggest looking in the pantry and the dog dish first. I pray it's not in the toilet (which is where I recently found his nasal suction).

Dear anyone who has had to change his diaper: I know it's nearly impossible to change an octopus. I don't know why he can't hold still for three seconds. My apologies to anyone who has had to chase his bare poopy butt across the floor in order to finish the job.

Dear Molly: I've tried to tell Perrin that the doggie doesn't like it when he pets your eyeballs, but he doesn't listen to me. Thank you for putting up with him. I know he makes up for it with all the people food he throws you from his high chair (even though I try to tell him to stop that too... but he doesn't listen to me).

Dear Perrin: I love you anyway, you rascal.

Thrill rides! Or... frogs.

I'm a little bit of an adrenaline junkie. I LOVE roller coasters; I've gone skydiving twice and zip lining once. I've never met a thrill ride I wouldn't try. I remember telling my mom when I was about 13 or 14 that I could never marry a man who didn't like roller coasters.

Guess what? When I met Trey, he didn't like thrill rides. That was absolutely unacceptable. So I'm proud to say that I have reformed his wayward opinions and shown him the light when it comes to the magnificence of hurling through the air upside down at 80 miles an hour.

But given that Trey has a history of bench-sitting at amusement parks, I'm a little concerned that it might be in his genes. So I'm taking precautions to make sure that Perrin develops an early love of thrill rides.

We just got back from Silver Dollar City... and I'm happy to report that Perrin had a blast! He wasn't quite big enough for even the smallest of roller coasters (they actually do have one designed for the 4-8 year-olds), but we had a good time riding the bouncing frogs and the caterpillars.

I think Perrin is well on his way to following in his mommy's footsteps.

The un-picky eater

Perrin LOVES food. He doesn't care what it is; he'll eat it. This has been quite a blessing for us since we've drastically changed our eating habits within the last few months to cut out processed foods, sugar, high fructose corn syrup, GMO foods, fast food, etc. (Not that we manage to keep it up 100% of the time, but we are so so so much healthier than we were this time last year. Also, we're not Nazis about this, so if anyone wants to invite us over for pizza, we're game!) But anyway, it's nice that we don't have a picky eater so we can fill him up with lots of fruits and veggies, beans, homemade soups and broths, plain yogurt, and farm fresh meat (no antibiotics or hormones injected!) He loves kale. He loves spinach. He LOVES lima beans and eats them faster than I can keep them on his plate. Ditto for sweet potatoes, brussel sprouts, cantaloupe, and squash.

The thing is, he also loves dog food. And acorns. And leaves. And bugs. Maybe it's not that he particularly likes my cooking; maybe the child has a really wonky sense of taste. I guess I can't take it as a compliment when he chows down on carpet lint with as much gusto as when he's eating my whole-wheat banana flax muffins.

Oh, well, I'm just going to enjoy the ride for now because we're not that far off from the terrible twos. And I imagine that when he learns he has the power to reject my food, it won't be so easy to convince him that veggie souffle is way better than mac-n-cheese.

A tribute to Trey

This blog post is a little different from my usual posts. Trey and I are coming up on our 5-year anniversary in just a few days, so I decided to write a tribute to him. But I don’t mind if you read it. Although some of it may not make much sense to anyone but Trey.

To my dear, sweet husband:
Wow, married five years! Can you believe it? That means we’ve been practically inseparable for almost 8 years now. I’ve been thinking a lot today about our special memories together. We’ve been through a lot in 8 years, huh? Mostly good stuff. Some tough stuff. And some fun/silly/crazy/totally-us stuff. So I thought I’d make a list for you of some of my favorite memories.

Memories from our early days:
I still have the fork (somewhere!) that you mangled for me on the day we met. You became known to my family as “the fork art guy.” But don’t worry; they haven’t called you that in a long time.

I loved the nights we spent driving around Conway just talking and occasionally finding something fun to do (like throwing pennies in a pond and making wishes). Or how about the night the cops came after us at the park? Not the best memory... but kind of funny now.

And of course, your proposal will always be a special memory. And yes, I would like eggs with that ring, please.

Memories from our tough times:
You were an absolute rock for me when my parents were in that accident. We were finally officially dating at that point, and I’m glad I hadn’t put you off any longer. I NEEDED you. And you were there.

Your job loss may not seem like such a good memory to bring up. But I’m so proud of the way you handled it. And it’s special to me to remember how we prayed that day that God would take care of us somehow, then we got a check in the mail that exact day for $500. Was that confirmation, or what?! And we did make it through it just fine.

Silly memories:
Four words: Tutti fruity snowflake booty.

I still giggle when I think about the noise you used to make when you were annoyed with traffic. It sounded just like the rattle of your broken glove box. I know you may not have appreciated me laughing at you when you were trying to drive, but it did seem to diffuse some of the tension.

I loved the time we went to Hot Springs and you spoke with an Irish accent all day. I think everyone really thought you were from Ireland!

I really wish you’d do your “happy cave dance” again sometime. It was cute.

Memories from our recent years:
It wasn’t that long ago that you convinced me it was time to start trying for a baby. I was pretty reluctant, but I decided to trust you and go along with it. But I prayed that I wouldn’t get pregnant right away. Two weeks later... well, we know the story. I suppose you and God were right all along.

I have so many good memories of you with Perrin that I can’t even begin to think of just one. I love that you love being a father. You’re a really good one.

It’s been really great to see you growing spiritually. I think you’ve made leaps and bounds in controlling your temper and being a spiritual leader. Thank you for being someone I can follow!

Well, I could go on and on and on... but I think that baby you convinced me to have is wide awake in his crib. (By the way, thank you for convincing me to have him. He’s perfect. Well, not perfect. But you know what I mean. You just might be able to convince me to have another one someday).

I know we have lots more good memories ahead of us! I love you very much! Thank you for putting up with me for all these years!

--Your sweetheart

In search of the perfect (squeaky) shoes

Perrin can officially toddle! What I mean by that is that he can take 3 or 4 steps on his own if he's walking from me to Trey while we're sitting on the floor. But he's still using crawling as his main mode of transportation. I've been trying to figure out how I can encourage him to walk without pushing him into it against his will. I think I know the solution--squeaky shoes!

I've seen tons of toddlers with squeaky shoes, so I figured we could find Perrin a pair over the weekend and try them out. I had no idea that this simple idea would turn into a day-long scavenger hunt. We had already looked at Walmart, not really expecting them to carry them (and we were right). So on Saturday morning, we began the hunt in earnest. After we had visited Target, Babies-R-Us, Rhea Lana, Baby Depot, Dillards, Payless, Gymboree, JC Penney, and Shoe Carnival with not a squeaky shoe to be found, we had pretty much given up hope. Where the heck do you find those things?? We knew of one other place to try--a children's boutique called Over the Moon. We looked them up online and saw that they were located near my parents' house, where we were headed anyway. Awesome! Except... they weren't located at that address anymore. And when I tried calling, the number had been disconnected. Score another 20 points for the fates that were conspiring against us.

I finally gave in and decided to order a pair online. I didn't want to do it because I wanted to have Perrin try them on to make sure we were getting the right size (and to make sure the squeaky sound didn't freak him out). But wouldn't you know it... as soon as I clicked to submit the order, the web page froze. I sat there for 20 minutes, fuming, until I finally gave up. Trey could see that I was pretty much at the end of my rope, so he reordered the shoes for me, and this time it went through.

About 20 minutes later, I received two email receipts for my two pairs of squeaky shoes that were being processed. ::insert highly exasperated mommy noise here::

I think I've finally managed to cancel one of the orders. But these shoes had better be the best thing since sliced bread for all the trouble they've caused.

Birthday boy

On Sunday, Perrin turned a year old. One year!! We had a blast celebrating his birthday over the weekend. The theme of his party was "Perrin's birthday moose-stravaganza." We decorated the tables with stuffed moose wearing party hats and served "moose juice" and snacks. We even had a table of moose-inspired crafts and a "moose trot" (similar to a cake walk). And of course, a moose birthday cake.



Perrin got a wagon for his birthday, so all the babies took turns going for a ride in it. They loved it! And it made for some really cute pictures.










It really didn't take Perrin long to realize he LIKED opening presents!

And here he is demolishing his birthday cake. He had frosting up to his ears and in his hair and eyelashes by the time he was done.

Overall, the party went very smoothly... and most importantly, I could tell Perrin had a lot of fun. I had fun too, but it's been a little bit bittersweet for me to think that he's a year old already. I love the little boy he's becoming, but I miss the tiny baby that he'll never be again.

Bookie monster

Perrin likes to eat paper. I don't know why. He's taken bites out of my grocery lists, magazines, and even a check we got in the mail. Last week, he gnawed on the corner pages of one of my library books. The damage wasn't very bad, so we went ahead and returned the book to the library, not thinking they would say anything about it. Well, they did. We got an email saying that the corners seemed to have undergone "animal damage" and the book would need to be replaced for a whopping $30.

So I was sitting on the living room floor this morning feeling a bit irritated at our little "animal." I mean, $30 is a lot of money! Couldn't he have chewed on some credit card offers or something instead? But then, as if sensing my lack of motherly love, he crawled over to me, pulled himself into my lap, leaned in and gave me a big kiss. ::sigh:: How can I stay angry? At least he isn't out setting fire to our lawn or wrecking our car. Yet.

Baby signing

I've tried to teach Perrin a little bit of baby sign language on and off--simple concepts like more, finished, bath, diaper, etc. Unfortunately I haven't been very consistent with it, so he really hasn't learned any signs yet. Well, I take that back. He has learned one sign. But it's a sign that I didn't teach him. He's learned how to shake his head "no" at me.

The other day, I was trying to get him to walk to me from the coffee table. I held his hands and said, "Walk to Mommy!" He collapsed into a crying heap on the floor, looked at me, and shook his head as if to say, "Stop trying to make me walk!" Later in the week, I took Perrin up to Trey's work to have lunch with him. As we were getting ready to leave, we stopped and talked to a few of Trey's coworkers. "Can you wave hello?" I asked Perrin. Like a perfect, sweet baby, he grinned and waved. Then as we were leaving I said, "Can you wave goodbye?" He got a mischievous smirk and shook his head no. I guess he'd had enough of waving.

I'm still just marveling over the irony that I have never, ever taught him that shaking his head means no, yet he picked it up faster than anything else. Is that just like a baby, or what? Or should it concern me that my child can already tell me no any time he wants?

Baby time

Perrin is at an age where he wants to see, do, touch, and explore everything. This doesn’t combine very nicely with cold winter weather and on-and-off drizzle that keeps us confined to the house for days at a time. So in the interest of not going bonkers, I’ve been looking for something we can do that will get us out of the house without costing money or giving us frostbite. I think I’ve found the answer—“baby time” at the library!

Every Wednesday morning, the North Little Rock library has a 30-minute baby program. I took Perrin today. I really wasn’t sure what to expect, but Perrin ending up loving it. We sat in a big circle with the other babies and their mommies/daddies/ grandparents/nannies. First we sang the welcome song for each child (“we’re so glad that Perrin is here, Perrin is here, Perrin is here,” etc… even a newbie like me can catch on pretty quickly). Then our rather enthusiastic leader read a quick story. Then we must have sung a dozen more songs, with each song allowing the kids a new prop to play with. We sang about monkeys, farm animals, colors, and seasons using stuffed animals, jingle bells, egg shakers, puppets, and scarves. (Perrin and I even got to play with a moose puppet!!) Perrin clapped and smiled and for some reason kept trying to pet the woman next to me.

At the end of baby time, the instructor dumped a bunch of baby-friendly musical instruments onto the floor (which was already littered with various other props that had been slobbered on, dropped, thrown, and even slightly mangled). Chaos ensued.

Chaotic though it may have been, Perrin really did seem to have a blast. I think we’ll try to make it a regular part of our weekly schedule. Maybe he’ll even make a friend or two. I'm pretty sure I saw one of those little girls eyeing him.

Snow day

Last week was Perrin's first time to play in the snow. He wasn't sure what to think of it at first, and he definitely did NOT like being bundled up in a snow suit. (For the record, it took longer to get him ready to play in the snow than the amount of time we actually spent out in the snow). But once he got down in the snow, he started crawling through it and giggling. Snow is fun stuff! I made a couple of mini-snowmen for him to knock over (he loves destroying things... such a boy). And we took a few pictures.

Here he is playing in the snow (I believe you can see the remains of a mini-snowman in the first two pictures. It's hard to tell since it's been mutilated beyond recognition. Poor snowman... it didn't stand a chance against Perrin.)

Hide and seek

Perrin's new favorite game is hide and seek. Not the kind where he hides and I find him, but the kind where he takes random objects and hides them in really weird places throughout the house. I find his duplo blocks in our remote control basket, his stuffed animals in our pantry, and his puzzle pieces in our bathtub. I think he might have thrown a few things in the trash too... (bye bye, toys).

Yesterday he got a jalapeno out of our refrigerator. (He kept lunging for it every time I had the fridge open, so I finally let him have it. Some things just are not worth fighting over). When I finished doing the dishes, I was looking around trying to find the jalapeno. I couldn't find it anywhere! I figured he must have found some new, strange spot to put it. I imagined it would turn up somewhere, maybe a week later. Turns out it didn't take that long--when the dishes were done running, I opened the door and there in the silverware basket was a very clean jalapeno (perhaps slightly cooked too).

I've had a lot of trouble finding things lately--pieces of jewelry, socks, bookmarks, etc. It seems like nothing is in its right place. I thought I was just getting a little absent minded. But I think now I've figured out the truth.

Adventures with food

I've tried very hard to keep Perrin's diet as pure and nutritious as possible. For starters, I breast fed him for ten months. Ever since we introduced solids at 6 months, I've given him fresh fruits and veggies and tried to keep him away from sugar and processed foods as much as possible (although I haven't kept him away from my parents, which means he's gotten opportunities to try ice cream and white bread and other things I hadn't really intended to give him). Focusing so much on what I allow Perrin to eat has made me think more about my own eating habits. Why am I not as careful about the things I eat? If I monitored my own diet as well as I do his, I bet I'd be a lot healthier. And skinnier.

I've been reading a lot of "real food" blogs and articles and keeping up with information about the current food revolution and the dangers of chemicals and GMOs, etc. I'm not ready to switch to raw milk or grass-fed beef or buy organic everything. But I am trying to cut out processed foods as much as possible and buy more fresh produce. This means I get to experiment with cooking new things.

Today I went to the store and bought kale. The cashier didn't even know what it was. I guess they don't sell a lot of kale. In case you don't know, it's a leafy vegetable. I brought it home, washed it, chopped it, tossed it with olive oil, sprinkled it with salt, and baked it. Voila--kale chips! It was actually pretty good. But when Trey saw it on his dinner plate, he made a really odd face.

"It's kale," I said. "Try it--it tastes a lot like potato chips!"

Trey took a bite. "It doesn't taste like potato chips," he said. "But it's edible."

Well, that was about as good of a response as I could have hoped for. I mean, this is coming from the guy who considers french fries and ketchup a double serving of veggies.

About ten minutes later he said, "You know, they get less bad the longer I eat them."

Glad the kale was such a hit.

We even let Perrin try a bite. He sloooooowly chewed his little bite of kale, looked up at me, and then clapped! I think it's the first time my cooking has ever received an ovation! Never mind that he spit out the next bite....

It's a baby step toward a healthier lifestyle. And maybe, just maybe, Trey will someday decide he really does like kale.