parenting

The Power Of A Sock

Posted on September 27, 2012 Written by Tonya

Even before I started looking I knew the evidence was all around our house.

My first clue was the lone baby sock I discovered in the bottom of a suitcase. He hasn’t been able to wear it in three years.

The tiny, white, soft sock, still smelled of Dreft made me nostalgic, yes but also had me searching for more proof…

Upon further investigation, I realized he’s gone from big wooden chunky puzzle pieces with handles to masterfully assembling the 30+ piece sets.

He’s physically heavier, weighting nearly 34 pounds. I never hesitate to carry him when he asks.

No longer in diapers (except at bedtime), he is learning how his body functions and all about feelings.

Instead of moving his cars across the floor, he creates scenarios and they have conversations with one another.

He loves to play Candy Land, Go Fish, Hide & Seek and Red Light, Green Light and I swear uses real strategy to assure a victory.

The pile of 2T and even some 3T clothing builds as we hand down the things he’s outgrown to our friends children.

He has opinions, knows how to make me laugh, recites the Pledge of Allegiance and can sing along to every word of Call Me Maybe.

More often than not, he opts to walk over being pushed in the stroller.

But the real proof that our house no longer has a baby is in his face. It’s more defined instead of soft and round.

He’s gone from a baby to a little boy in the blink of an eye and it is wonderful to witness.

It’s also enough to make me want to sit in a corner with a tub of ice cream and gallon of wine and cry. Maybe I should reach out to my RE and start up on the baby #2 trail again?

Better yet, I’m going enjoy what I have right this very minute.

Funny how much power a lone sock can have.

Three

Posted on August 29, 2012 Written by Tonya

There was a little girl,
Who had a little curl,
Right in the middle of her forehead.
When she was good,
She was very good indeed,
But when she was bad she was horrid.

– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Three is tough.

Three is really tough.

I had been told that the terrible twos had nothing on the horrible threes, but I had no idea how rough it was going to be.

A perfect family outing can turn sour in the blink of an eye.

A pleasant dinner can end in tears and refusal to eat before you have a chance to say, “please pass the pepper”.

Quiet snuggle time and stories at bedtime can lead to World War III.

Three year old’s can be unruly, unpredictable and unwavering.

They are loud and throw animalistic temper tantrums over minutia.

They are cheeky and disrespectful, cunning and quick.

One minute cute and adorable, engaging and fun and the next he’s the Terminator and out for blood.

From the day he turned three, Lucas, an already very willful child, became a professional terror, especially when temperatures are on the rise, a nap hasn’t been had, he has an empty tummy or has heard the word “no” one too many times.

His father and I became professional negotiators, peace keepers, patience seekers and silent 1 to 10 counters. We are a good team and can tell when the other needs a break.

Time outs, taking toys and other privileges away don’t always work. Neither does yelling. Yelling always makes it worse.

Sometimes we give in.

Sometimes we become short order cooks or we gather our belongings and get up and leave with a kicking and screaming child batting us in the head, we have long discussions about behavior and patience with both one another and our son. We try to teach Lucas what is acceptable and what is not, right from wrong and are learning to say “no” with finesse.

We fall into bed each night exhausted, pray that we made the right choices and are parenting as best as we can and have high hopes that tomorrow is a better day.

Every now and then, but more often than not, we receive heartfelt apologies from our sweet boy, tender “I love you’s” full of remorse and it makes all the horrid worthwhile.

I Never Knew…

Posted on June 11, 2012 Written by Tonya

…that my sleep patterns would be so completely interrupted.

…that I would wipe your snot with the sleeve of my shirt.

…that there would be stickers on my living room floor for weeks on end.

…that World War III would break out if I offered the “wrong” flavor of juice.

…that I would utter the words, “Don’t lick that”, “Do you have to use the potty?” or, “Maybe” so many times.

…that rainy days would make me want to cry.

…that we would waste so much food!

…that my patience would be tried each and every day in ways I never could imagine.

…that there was so much I didn’t know.

…that there would be crayon marks on our walls, Play-Doh ground into clothing and paint caked to our dining table.

…that jumping in puddles would so fun.

…that there would be so many little toy pieces to misplace, lose all together, step on, or throw over the fence our neighbor’s yard.

…that there would be master negotiation tactics used in my house on an hourly basis. Seriously, show me a man on a ledge of a highrise and I’ll get him down!

…that ice cream, M&M’s and lollipops held so much power.

…that time-outs would be as much for you as they are for me.

…that I would spend half a lunch at a restaurant (with my in laws!!) coaxing you out from underneath the table. Grrr.

…that my heart could be so full.

This photo was taken yesterday. Do not let the innocent look on his face fool you, this little hellion refused to sit at the table, eat or cooperate in any way. Holy embarrassing!

Fear & Anxiety

Posted on May 10, 2012 Written by Tonya

It is completely heartbreaking (and to be fair, a little frustrating) when your child is inconsolable because they lack the words to express what ails them or what they desire.

If you knew, you could address it, right? When our children were infants, we went through the check list: is he wet?, is it meal time?, is he gassy?, is he tired?, etc. As their vocabulary increases, they can tell you what’s wrong or what they need. Instead of their grunts and groans and our second guessing, we hear, “more grapes” or “I have a tummy ache”. It’s wonderful!

Lucas has an extensive vocabulary, but it is devastating to visibly see anxiety and fear getting the best of him. He doesn’t have the words to describe those feelings and we are struggling to calm him through two very scary (to him) situations: fire alarms and swim lessons.

Let me back up a little…

When we were in Hawaii last summer, we were awakened on the first night of our stay by a loud fire alarm scaring Lucas half to death. I have never seen him so frightened. He was shaking and holding on to me tighter than anyone ever has and it took him a long time to get back to sleep that night.

Six months later he was in the Kids Club at the gym I attend and there was a fire alarm and everyone was evacuated from the building.

Once a month at his preschool, he experiences a fire drill, which just adds more fuel to the fire (no pun intended).

All of these incidents are discussed in our home on a regular basis. Even when we think we’ve moved past it, Lucas will demand that we tell him the “story” of what occurred during each scenario over and over and over.

He knows “fire alarms are just loud and don’t hurt you”, “we need them to be safe in case there is a real emergency”, and that his teachers will give him a “heads up”, if there is going to be a drill on one of the three days he’s at school, but he is still struggling.

Lucas’ other source of anxiety is swim lessons. He LOVES every form of water and has no qualms about going under water, floating, blowing bubbles, etc. We have completed four Parent & Me classes, BUT he is not a fan of his semi-private lessons and he frets about it all morning leading up to it. He ends up doing all the work in the 20 minute class, but cries all the way through.

For both of these issues, I have taught Lucas some basic deep breathing techniques for when he begins to feel scared and of course, we talk about what he’s experiencing and assure him that it’s okay to be scared.

Turns out the deep breathing helps me too, as there is nothing sadder than that face he makes just before his eyes well up with tears and his chin starts to quiver. All I can do is scoop him up and kiss him repeatedly and hold him and protect him.

My little boy.

On one hand, anxiety is a natural condition that helps us cope with new experiences and protects us from danger, so he HAS to work through it, but he’s only (almost) three and on the other, he’s a boy and society says that he is suppose to be tough and brave and show little emotion. As his mother, I just want to help him the best way I can.

If you’re the mother of a boy, how are you teaching that it is okay to be fearful? Do you have any tips for taming anxiety?

Laughter Is My Only Good Advice

Posted on April 24, 2012 Written by Tonya

They say laughter is the best medicine and when it comes to raising kids, there has never been a truer statement. Take is from Tracy, also known as Sellabit Mum.

I had the pleasure of meeting Tracy at BlogHer last year and she is simply lovely. We have always had a fun banter and this letter to her eldest daughter is down right perfect and I am thrilled to welcome her here today.

Dear Eldest Daughter,

I’m glad we’ve reached the point in our relationship that you can laugh at me and not just laugh with me and get my jokes (although – thank goodness, as developing a good sense of humor is truly important), because I want you to know that I am human and that I hurt and also make many mistakes. Also, my jokes are always funny. Write that down.

Sometimes I wonder if it’s hard being the oldest child. Your parents obsessing about getting it all right. Buying the right crib, painting the nursery just so, finding the perfect potty chair, feeding you the right foods, reading you only the best books, taking you to all of the right classes, getting you professionally photographed every damn month. Not that I would admit to doing all of that but if I were to fess-up…pretty much we just wanted what was best..when honestly we had no idea what we were doing.

So then I wonder if it’s hard being the oldest child because you have little siblings watching your every move – the struggle for independence, the bedtimes pushed a little later, the trendy clothes, and the new fights with your parents.

At times it can be so overwhelming as a parent just knowing the immense responsibility we have raising kind, generous, contributing people that maybe we don’t stop the think that you carry some of that same weight. You get to experience our failures first-hand like a strange science experiment of the parenting kind.

I apologize. Also, no you can’t stay-up until 10pm this weekend. BECAUSE I SAID SO.

All of the above is just to really say that I’m scared. Very scared. You’re turning 10 this year. The next few years ahead of you will be filled with wonder, hormones, laughter, tears and probably pretty crazy fights with your mother. There will be days that you just want to play on the playground with your sisters and days where you feel like you don’t have a friend in the world.

But we will get though it and you need to know that the other side of it will be beautiful. Truly.

So for now – before this all starts and I stumble and fall and likely have to apologize 100 times for my unpreparedness…please remember that it all just boils down to these very simple things:

1. You are loved

2. You are beautiful

3. You are kind

4. You are important

5. You are smart

6. You are strong

but mainly…

7. You are too good for that boy, so get in the house NOW young lady and finish your homework.

See, it’s the laughter that is going to get us through. God willing.

Love you,

Mom

My Son Really Likes Me

Posted on April 17, 2012 Written by Tonya

We recently extended Lucas’ preschool hours from three hours each day, three days per week to six hours each day, three days per week. It has been four days so far with Spring Break in the middle.

Lucas will be three years old in June, he loves going to school, we felt he was ready and we are struggling with nap time at home. It’s bad, people!

Like most children, when Lucas doesn’t nap, he is a nightmare! A long afternoon becomes longer and dinner, bath and bedtime are dreadful. Lots of tears, kicking, screaming, you get the picture.

So, how is Lucas doing with nap time?

Wonderful, he was the first one asleep today!

Really?

And he slept for two hours.

Wow!

While I am pleased that Lucas is sleeping at school and I know at some point all children give up their naps, this conversation with Lucas’ preschool teacher made me insane seeing as we fight for him to rest on the days he doesn’t go to school. He goes so far as to tell me that he won’t nap HOURS before nap time. There is nothing more infuriating than a 2 1/2 year old bossypants.

I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I stick to the school schedule, give fair warning, lay down with him, read him dozens of books, rub his back, sing to him and then end up letting him cry it out, which I absolutely hate, so after about 8 minutes, I give up and we forgo nap. Again.

My husband likes to joke and say Lucas won’t nap for me because he likes me too much.

That just can’t be true.

Any advice?

Please!

Raising Confident Girls

Posted on April 4, 2012 Written by Tonya

I am the mother to a young son, but I am a woman and I was a daughter.

I think about having a daughter a lot and quite frankly it scares the hell out of me.

I wonder, how I will I raise a confident, well-rounded, strong, independent (but not too much so) woman?

While I had wonderful and positive parental role models growing up, I did not have the greatest relationship with my mother.

I was told how beautiful I was all the time by both parents and everyone around me and I learned to believe it, but I wish that my parents, in particular my mother, had tried to get to know me better and focus more attention on my other positive characteristics when I was growing up: I could sing, I was a thoughtful friend, very organized, always loved to read, excelled in English Lit, History, French and later Spanish, I was active in student government, landed the lead in school plays and always a starter on school sports teams. But because those traits were never highlighted, it took me many years and a lot of soul searching to realize there is much more to me than my looks.

We put a lot of emphasis in our society on appearance and it’s really a shame….

To read more on how I believe we can raise confident girls, please visit my post today on Smart Mom Style.

I Want To Be Just Like My Dad

Posted on March 20, 2012 Written by Tonya

The very first blog I read was Coreen’s, The Adventures of Captain Fussypants & Little Miss. We were friends long before either of us blogged, but it’s was her willingness (know-how and wit) to share her life as a new mom that made me want to start Letters For Lucas.

Coreen and I are alike in so many ways and in the ways we are different, we learn from one another. She is not only a true confident and an amazing person, she is also one of the busiest working mothers I know and I’ll never know how she juggles it all.

I am blessed to have Coreen in my life and honored to have her here today with a tender letter to her husband carefully letting him know what a wonderful father he is and what amazing children they have created together.

Mi esposo,

When I learned our firstborn was a boy, I had a momentary panic attack. I’m a girl! What did I know about raising a boy, teaching him to become a good man? But that’s all it was, a moment. Because I knew I had you to help me.

We are lucky, you and I, that we share the same values, that we are a team and that we each come from parents that have been married over 40 years. Although we are two different people, our love is the same, solid. And as parents, we are a united front.

The awe and responsibility of caring for someone other than yourself is daunting. And with your work schedule taking you away days at a time, it’s even more so, for both of us. I know you feel you miss out. Childhood is full of so many firsts and made up of so many moments, that you don’t get to be a part of firsthand. Pictures, video, Skype, it all helps, but isn’t the same thing. But our children have only ever known you with this work schedule and they are not fazed by it because when you are home, you are there for them.

I know you worry that our son won’t be strong or be able to stand up for himself. Raising a child to be confident and self-sufficient is a huge undertaking. But I write this to assure you that he is already strong and confident. I watched him from the sidelines as he approached boys twice his age to ask to be part of their flag football game and my heart swelled with pride that he knew what he wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it. He will be able to hold his own.

I know you worry that he will be the weird kid who will only eat plain noodles. But I write this to assure you that he isn’t afraid to try new things.

I know you worry he’ll turn into a wuss spending so much time with his mama. But I write this to assure you that he won’t. I won’t allow that to happen, because while a mama’s boy at 5 may be endearing, at 25 it is obnoxious. But I’ll snuggle him as long as he lets me.

I write this to assure you that while our son is a sweet, smart, imaginative and kind boy, he is also willful, clever, and competitive. Just like you.

He is a perfect blend of the best of both of us and that is a gift we need to embrace. Because as he grows, he’ll become his own person and will need us less. But I write this to assure you that we are equipping him with the right ideals, what it means to be kind, how to share, work hard, be respectful and confident. We are making him strong.

Our son hangs on your every word, so I write this as a gentle reminder to chose your words with care because when our son says, “When I grow up I want to be a race car driver, a motorcycle rider, a firefighter, a paleontologist, a soccer player, a hockey player and a chef. There are so many cool things to be, I don’t know which one to pick”.

What he is really saying is, “I want to be just like my dad”.

I write this to thank you for being a good dad, a good husband and my best friend.

I write this because I can’t imagine doing it without you.

And if our not quite two year old daughter’s early “terrible twos” stage is any indication, then we are really going to need to parent as a united front during the teen years because I certainly don’t want to do that without you!

Love,

Coreen

Gratitude Is Everything

Posted on December 4, 2011 Written by Tonya

I’ll be the first to admit that I spoil my son rotten, but raising an ingrate is a deep seeded fear of mine.

Recently, I have read some beautiful posts: Change of Plans: Children and Gratitude and When Your Child Acts Entitled on jaw dropping moments mothers have had when their children behave ungrateful.

I rarely leave the house without bringing him home a treat of the edible or four-wheeled variety. Anymore it’s the only way I can get him to go to the super market with me. Thank goodness Matchbox cars are only $1.00, but as you and I both know, those dollars add up visit after visit and I’m the one left grumbling about picking up 75 cars throughout the day.

Lucas is no dummy and has grown to expect a “treat” for doing something I’ve asked of him, for keeping it together while I wander through Target, drag him into the bank, Starbucks, dry cleaners, etc.

We put up our Christmas tree on Friday night and I stayed up long after Lucas had gone to bed to decorate it. I wanted him to wake up in the morning and see it in all it’s glory.

This is Lucas’ first Christmas tree and I want having the tree to be special for him, a tradition in the making. I thought it would be fun for him to choose a couple of new ornaments, so off to Target we went with a list of a few other household items we needed.

We had a lot of fun picking out three new ornaments; a penguin, a ‘W’ for our surname and a Lightening McQueen (the boy has a thing for the movie Cars) and then he began badgering me to go down the toy aisle, which I was happy to oblige knowing full well I’d be buying him a car in order to get through the rest of my shopping.

He seemed happy with the bright orange car he selected and promptly ripped it from its packaging, making sure to hand me all the pieces (bar code included so that I could pay for it) and we carried on to get laundry detergent.

Somewhere between greeting cards and electronics, he spotted a Cars car set that he just had to have. I let him hold on to it for a while so that I could finish my shopping and explained to him that I wasn’t going to buy it, he had already gotten a car on this trip and that he had three of the six cars in the set at home. This information prompted a complete and utter melt down.

I then returned the set to it’s place on the shelf and asked him if we could compromise; put back the orange car and get a Cars car that he didn’t have. He liked that idea but when we found one that he wanted, he wanted it and the orange car, which was not part of the deal. Lucas is only two-and-a half, but he gets it. He wanted both and said so repeatedly and also, “buy it for me” at the top of his lungs.

In the past maybe I would have bought it just to shut him up, but I need to break that cycle in order to teach him how to be thankful for the toys he does have and not to expect something new every time we are in a store.

I kept my cool and calmly repeated that this was a hard lesson for us both, that was no way to talk to me and I was sorry but, you don’t always get what you want. Needless to say, screaming and wailing and carrying on in mortifying levels followed while standing in the check out that I almost walked away from my cart and right out of the store. No one needs to hear a tantrum.

As we left, an audacious customer said to me, “Seriously, can you not get your kid under control?” to which I replied, “Go to hell.”

Not my finest moment (or response), but WTF? This was none of her concern and her commentary was not only unnecessary, but rude, out of line and shocking to me.

Once we made it to the car, I called my husband in tears exclaiming that I didn’t want to raise an ungrateful child and I had just been called out/judged by a complete stranger.

As odd as it sounds, in the moment I could not tell what I was most upset about; the perception that I could not control my child’s behavior or the behavior itself.

Of course, I know now, without a doubt that it’s my son’s behavior that was most troubling. God knows Lucas did not need another car, so hopefully he will remember walking out of the store without one.

And that woman means nothing to me but teaching my child gratitude? Means everything.

Do you admittedly spoil your child(ren)? How do teach them about being grateful? What should I have said to that bitch?

Maybe I’m Amazed

Posted on November 21, 2011 Written by Tonya

You’re okay, you’ve got your night light and water and books and lovey.

Nothing has brought me more joy as a mother than hearing the things I’m teaching Lucas repeated back to me. I get such a thrill when I can see in his eyes that something has clicked; a new shape or color has been committed to memory or an additional lyric to a song has been learned. I love witnessing his exploratory mind hard at work taking in everything that he encounters and retains. It’s as though all of my hard work as a parent is being paid off.

Your humidifier is on and we’ll be back to check on you in a little bit.

I can’t hide my smile when Lucas uses “please” and “thank you” without being prompted.

I’m tickled every time he blesses me after a sneeze.

My heart is all a-flutter when Lucas tells me he loves me first and asks for hugs.

This morning, I walked into the living room and heard him comforting his Elmo doll just the way his father and I do at bedtime.

Mommy and Daddy love you so much. Have a good sleep.

It was our bedtime routine verbatim. Not a day goes by that I am not simply amazed by my son.

What has your child done lately that has stopped you in your tracks?

Don’t forget to enter my Michael Bublé holiday CD give away!

The Power Of A Sock

Related Posts:

Three

Related Posts:

I Never Knew…

Related Posts:

Fear & Anxiety

Related Posts:

Laughter Is My Only Good Advice

Related Posts:

My Son Really Likes Me

Related Posts:

Raising Confident Girls

Related Posts:

I Want To Be Just Like My Dad

Related Posts:

Gratitude Is Everything

Related Posts:

Maybe I’m Amazed

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

Related Posts:

What I Write About