A New Distraction

Mealtimes are when I'm at my most creative. These days, I'm constantly looking for new ways to coax Daniel into sitting down long enough to take a bite. Reading books to him while I stealthily sneak bites of food into his mouth (and sometimes even try to feed myself simultaneously) still works on occasion, but I'm often forced to change tactics at the drop of a hat. Today, he ate about 3/4ths of his lunch while I read/sang to him, but he could only be "held" down for so long. He hopped off his chair and started to play with his Cozy Coupe and tricycle. While he occupied himself contentedly, I finished eating my lunch. Once the table was cleared, my creative juices began to flow.

Daniel loves to play in the car. He enjoys pushing the buttons, climbing in and out of the back seat, and pretending to drive. We'll be driving down the street and he'll shriek from his car seat, "Seet! Seet!" Pointing furiously at the driver's seat, he'll continue to whine until I acknowledge his desire to commandeer my SUV. Most of the time, I try and reason with him. I explain that he will be able to drive when he turns 16 but that he must sit in the back for his own safety while Mommy drives. Does he understand this? Probably not. But I usually follow it up with the exclamation, "Look at that huge truck!" which successfully distracts him from his initial mission.

Today, the parked car became a great place for him to finish his lunch and to stay occupied while I cleaned up. Ollie joined him in the car, and they played for about a half-hour. It happened to be a beautiful day, so I opened the sunroof and the windows and let him do his thing. He turned on the radio, honked the horn a couple of times, and fiddled with the turn signals. Oh yeah, and he finished his lunch cooperatively. I almost forgot that was the whole point. I wonder how long it'll be before he catches on.

Those Were the Days

This past weekend, I found myself in an unfamiliar position. It was Friday afternoon, around 2:00. I had just dropped off Daniel (and Ollie) at my parents' house for a sleepover. My Mom put Daniel down for a nap and I left. The plan was for me to meet Peter in Bala Cynwyd at 7:00. I had 5 hours to myself, with no one to rush home to. I honestly can't remember the last time I could say that. What to do with my gift of (temporary) freedom? I had spent the previous 2 days contemplating how best to use my time. What did I want to do that I couldn't do with Daniel? After running through various options and weeding out those that were somewhat inconvenient. I came to a decision: I would go shopping for jeans at Bloomingdales!

I headed to Willow Grove Mall, like a kid in a candy store. Taking my good old time, I browsed through racks and racks of designer jeans and selected about 10 pairs to try. I even had the luxury of a dressing room all to myself (Daniel had not been content to watch me try on clothes since he was about 16 months old). This might sound crazy, but I even tried on several pairs of jeans more than once! Imagine that! It was a successful venture, as I left Bloomies with 2 new pairs of jeans but not an impatient toddler. And I still didn't have to rush home!

After trying on and purchasing some things at Banana Republic and J. Crew, I set off across the mall in search of some nourishment. In my moment of child-free ecstasy, I had skipped lunch. As I walked past Auntie Anne's and Sbarro's, I noticed that I was among the oldest of the afternoon mall-goers. There were plenty of teenagers and adolescents, and even some moms with kids in strollers. With a spring in my step, I reminded myself that I was 32 (not 16) and that this sense of freedom was fleeting. I procured a fruit smoothie and went on my way.

That night, Peter and I went into the city to have dinner at Parc. We hadn't had dinner downtown together since my birthday in March, and we were long overdue. It felt almost alien to be wandering around Rittenhouse Square on a balmy summer evening, especially with no babysitter waiting at home. After our meal, we literally didn't know what to do with ourselves. We people-watched up and down Walnut Street, reminiscing about our younger days of city living, while Daniel slept soundly at his grandparents' house. Heading home at the late hour of 11:00 (!!!), we felt refreshed -- as if we had rediscovered a small part of who we used to be before we were Mommy and Daddy.

It's so easy to take your free time for granted, even after you have children. I've even been known to complain about being bored while Daniel naps. But this shopping and dining experience was a rare opportunity to reconnect with myself and to enjoy the moment -- two things I rarely get to do anymore with an active and energetic toddler at home!

Camp Mommy, Day 3

I'm having a hard time remembering what life was like (ages ago, it seems) when Daniel used to be content just to sit in his stroller and accompany me on my errands. He had no opinion of his own, nor did he feel any sense of urgency to run off in the opposite direction from where I stood. My, how times have changed. These days, running errands with my active, impatient little guy is more a chore than a pleasant outing. Case in point: today's attempt to buy food for dinner.

We started out slowly this morning. Daniel watched "Dora the Explorer" while I made the bed and threw in a load of laundry. He ate breakfast, I made a few phone calls, then I chased him around the house so I could change his smelly diaper. Somehow, it got to be 10:30. We made it out of the house without any tantrums, which was a major triumph in my eyes. Our first stop was Babies 'r Us for swimming armbands and doorknob covers (my little angel is now regularly escaping from the house via the laundry room and garage door). The end-of-season swim selection was discouraging, so we had to check Toys 'r Us. No luck. By then, Daniel was growing tired of being shuttled in and out of the car. And I was tired of shuttling him.

We proceeded to Costco, in the hopes of finding some yummy items for dinner. We browsed around for a little while before heading over to the food section. That's when Daniel started standing up in the shopping cart. So there I am, trying to select a reasonable dinner amongst the throngs of eager Costco die-hards, with one hand gripping Daniel's arm so tight that my shoulder started to ache. It was too intimidating a task, so we fled. I felt like such a Costco failure. How many people actually run out of there with not a single item being purchased?

All I wanted to do was go home, but I still hadn't procured dinner. So we swung by Whole Foods and accomplished what was probably the fastest and cheapest visit I've ever had. Daniel was beginning to melt down, dumping his bag of Goldfish crackers onto the floor and continuing to stand in the shopping cart. Then he threw a fit when I tried to secure him in his car seat. We made it home in one piece, ate a rushed and chaotic lunch, and got ready for naptime. Ahhh, naptime. On days like this, it's heaven on earth.

My (Secret) End-of-Summer Blues

Daniel's last day of camp is this Friday. Yes, the dog days of summer are coming to an end. It's hard to believe that 8 weeks have passed, especially since Daniel started his summer as a teary little boy who missed his Mommy. He has blossomed into a fun, confident camper who waves goodbye to me at drop-off and blows kisses to his counselors at the end of the day. I am so thrilled that I decided to send him to camp for the entire summer. He was totally ready for it, and it was an amazing experience for him. My only regret is that it is now coming to an end...a full month before the school year is set to begin. Oy.

You see, I have a dirty little secret. I have enjoyed these 8 weeks of camp almost as much as Daniel has. Yes, I was sad to send my baby off to his very first away-from-home adventure. Yes, I miss the days of one-on-one bonding, when it was just me and Daniel forging our way together. No, I don't feel guilty for cherishing every minute of the three hours a day, three times a week, that Daniel spent at camp and I spent on my own. Morning yoga classes? Check. Trips to the grocery store without an impatient toddler? Check. Running errands ten times quicker than usual? Check. Doctors visits without having to arrange for a babysitter? Check. In a word, it has been heavenly. And now I have a month to be with Daniel 24-hours a day, 7 days a week. Yay for me!

Not only has it been an important developmental step for Daniel to learn how to function without me, it has been just as important for me to rediscover who I am without him. This is the only time in my life when I will only have one child and, as a result, a relatively flexible schedule. I have taken the time to do things for myself, which makes it easier to face the challenges of parenting a 2-year-old. Over the next couple of weeks, I foresee trips to the Please Touch Museum, the Camden Aquarium, and various parks and playgrounds. School starts after Labor Day, at which time I will resume my heavenly three-mornings-a-week break. I'm not sure if Daniel will cry on his last day of camp this Friday. But I probably will.

"Push! Push!"

Daniel loves to push buttons. No, not mine. Well, actually, he has mastered the art of pushing Mommy's buttons. But that's another blog post for another day. Today's post is about his obsession with literally pushing buttons. It doesn't matter what kind or where. He wants to "Push! Push!" What started as an infant's fascination with toys that lit up or made noise, has morphed into a toddler's desire to switch the lights on and off, to turn the bathtub faucet and watch the water run, to dispense water from the refrigerator door, and, most recently, to push the power button on the Keurig coffee maker. If only he could make the whole cup, add some cream and sugar, and serve it to me while I lounged in bed! Just kidding...sort of.

After countless mornings of watching Mommy and Daddy brew themselves a cup of coffee, Daniel grew more and more intrigued by the machine. Once I allowed him to try the buttons out for himself, I had naively sealed my fate. Now I can't brew a cup of coffee within earshot of him without hearing "Push! Push!" And, like the sucker that I am, I lift him up onto the kitchen counter and allow him to fiddle with the buttons for a couple of minutes. So far, he hasn't mistakenly brewed coffee into an invisible cup (I mean, all over the countertop). But I know it's coming.

I don't mind his routine of switching the lights on and off when we leave a room, nor does it bother me when he jacks up the volume dial on the entertainment system. Who doesn't want to hear Elmo's World at an earsplitting volume? His behavior is nothing OCD-like in nature, it simply illustrates his curiosity at the world around him. When Peter was a kid, he used to push the buttons on the vacuum cleaner and pretend it was a spaceship. I recall conjuring some elaborate fantasy world involving the electricity meters on the side of the house. Apparently it runs in the family.

Going Commando

We experienced another "first" with Daniel over the weekend. After lunch on Sunday, I changed his diaper and put him down for a nap. He was babbling a little bit, but I figured he would eventually fall asleep. So I left for the grocery store. According to Peter, Daniel did quiet down and fall asleep. But when I returned home an hour later, I could hear Daniel talking and squealing in his room. Needless to say, I was not happy. He was supposed to nap for at least another hour!

I decided to ignore him (since he didn't seem to be in any distress) and wait for him to quiet down. He did, and we saw him lay down on the video monitor. Not thinking anything of this "mid-nap" wake-up, Peter and I went about our business and let Daniel sleep. When I went into his room at 5:00 to wake him, I understood what all the excitement had been about.

Daniel was lying in his crib, bare-bottomed! He had clearly been sleeping, as he was just opening his eyes. His shirt was still on, but his diaper was tossed to the corner of the crib. I cringed, thinking I would find him in a pile of poop, but luckily he was just a little wet. The puddle underneath him, though, indicated that he had removed his diaper prior to falling asleep! I have no idea how or why he managed to do this. The diaper had been secure when I put him down at 2:00. Maybe he was bored and decided to experiment. In any case, I found the situation to be humorous but also a little sad. I felt bad that I had ignored his calls and he had peed on himself. I also felt bad that his little tushy was cold while he slept!

Needless to say, I put his shorts on over his diaper before putting him down for today's nap!