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.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
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.
Saturday, October 29, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, October 16, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
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.
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.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
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:
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:
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