- He always has an opinion.
- He's usually trying to break himself or something else.
- He loves to cuddle with soft objects.
- He also loves putting soft objects in his mouth and walking around with them for long periods of time.
- He's a jokester, giggler, a comedian at heart.
- He likes it loud.
- He's delighted by cats and dogs.
- He can't get enough of Goldfish crackers, toast and Amy's Mac-n-Cheese.
- He doesn't take no for an answer.
- Tyler lives life full-speed-ahead!
Large Enough To Drive From The Back Seat
I’ve been a back seat driver for as long as I can remember. I think as young as sixteen I had opinions on routes, speed and general driving prowess. I’m sure I drove my mom and dad crazy; I know I drive Jamie crazy when I get all back-seat-driver in his face.
Well people, karma has come a calling. My sweet six-year-old daughter Mazie already has the signs of a mean back seat driver. It began with a general curiosity about the rules and regulations of the road. Why this and why that and how come this and how come that. This curiosity has been looking to transition to instruction for awhile now. She’s been on the verge for several months.
I’ve been getting questions like “Why did you go through that yellow light” or “Why didn’t you use your turn signal” instead of “When do you go through a yellow light” or “When do you use your turn signal”. The switch from gaining knowledge to questioning my skills is underway. She’s also begun noticing the roads taken to get certain places and I can only imagine before long we will be debating the finer points of this or that way to get somewhere.
Mazie had a significant back seat driving breakthrough this morning. For the first time ever she truly instructed my driving. At least twice if not three times, she reminded me to use my turn signal. The imaginary Jamie sitting on my shoulder was laughing out loud, but I did not utter a single sound. I merely turned on my turn signal as I’d been told. We can all use a little back seat driving from time to time.
Larger Than A Pee-Infested Bit Of Potty Talk
Mazie delights in potty talk. We have never had a strict rule forbidding its use. I’ve always figured it’s reasonably harmless and we have bigger fish to fry. And maybe since it’s not forbidden it will wear itself out.
Turns out, potty talk, at least in our house, doesn’t seem likely to wear itself out. In fact it seems to be gathering steam. I keep hoping that allowing this outlet is in some way beneficial, like potty talk is a necessary part of growing up for most kids and disallowing the activity turns it underground where you can no longer hear what’s being said.
I hear plenty of potty talk. I try to give Mazie the impression that I’m ignoring her as I’m not interested in spurring on the behavior, but momma can’t help but hear most of what she says…
Mazie and a friend have invented a teacher by the name of Ms. Twiggles. Ms. Twiggles spends her days with a terrible urge to use the restroom and nary a restroom in sight. She ends up with lots of clothes in need of a wash. They absolutely love these stories and derive great joy in spinning tales of a bladder-challenged teacher.
The other day in the car Mazie informed me that Tyler’s poop puked because it ate too much pee. I didn’t laugh or even smile, but her creativity in the potty talk world is impressive and sometimes I can’t help but to chuckle, at least on the inside.
Here’s what I’m wondering: Is my lenience with the potty talk doing anything detrimental to my kid? I haven’t read a parenting book or article that has ever addressed this topic. Yes it’s rude. Yes it’s gross. But, is it harmful? Will she end up in the long run somehow wronged? For those parents or grandparents who have a rule against potty talk, why do you have the rule? What I’m wondering is is the rule just for the adults and polite society, so that our ears don’t bleed from all the grossness, or is there something deeper going on, something that I haven’t identified. If you completely disagree with me, let me know what you think and why. If you agree with me, give me a warm fuzzy. If you are in the middle, I’m anxious to hear. I am really curious to hear people’s honest take on this issue.
Larger Than A Banana-Shaped Candy
I distinctly remember my grade school lunches. Mom would give me money to buy hot lunch, I would pocket the money, and choose cash over food. In middle school I switched to a private school and along with the regular hot lunch, they also served an àla carte style lunch. What started as a pretzel and string cheese a day, quickly morphed into a 2 or 3 pretzel a day lunch, where I brought my own money to supplement the money my mom gave me.
Turns out it wasn’t the cash I wanted so much as the ability to eat what I wanted. Once the opportunity to eat something I really liked arrived and I didn’t have a mom around to monitor my actions, I jumped on it and quickly did so to excess.
Mazie is a child much like I was. She will forgo a meal without a second thought if she deems it not to her liking, and she will eat like a large adult male if there is something that she loves up for grabs.
I’d really like to keep her from trekking down my same food path as I don’t think it’s a very good one, but figuring out how to transform her into a person that likes lots of stuff and knows how to stop eating when she’s full, seems a daunting task.
My latest plan involves candy. I know, I know, it doesn’t sound good, but so far it’s working and the trade-off seems worth it. I have high hopes that in a year or two she might genuinely like more foods and if not, well at least she’ll have better nutrition in the meantime.
I think a lot of the battle with kids like Mazie who are really picky, but don’t have a true food aversion, is getting them to eat stuff that they don’t like more than once. It’s been shown that if a person eats a food they don’t like, many times after eating that food 10-15 times they will either develop a taste for it or at least find it okay. Since I can’t open Mazie’s mouth and shove the food in, and simple tactics that might work with less picky children don’t work with her, I’m sticking with the candy.
She got a bottle of assorted fruit-shaped candy for her birthday. Each piece of candy is small and the candy is reserved only for ’earning for eating’. When a meal is served I tell her how many bites of something (usually 3 or 4) she doesn’t like she needs to eat to earn a piece of candy. Once she earns a piece of candy she gets it right then and there. There is no candy offered for foods that I know she doesn’t have a problem eating.
A couple of nights ago she had a child-sized portion of salad and ate it all. The salad wasn’t just some lettuce thrown into a bowl; it was chock-full of nutritious stuff. This type of thing has never happened before. The best we’ve done up to this point is getting her to eat a bite or two of something she doesn’t like. Now she is eating 10-20 decent sized bites of stuff she wouldn’t have touched before.
It’s made dinner fun instead of something she dreads, and watching her eat things willingly, without complaint, is a magical thing for me. You can call me a bad mother and I won’t even mind. I’ll be watching my six-year-old eat salad.
Larger Than A Cat Wearing Swim Goggles
Mazie might not be older, but she’s definitely bigger than our 20+ year old cat Gypsie. Gypsie is in liver failure and will need to be put to sleep soon. Mazie has been in on the discussion the whole time and is aware of Gypsie’s fate.
It is with this in mind that she decided to make a card for Gypsie. I told her a card wouldn’t make much sense to give a cat, but after confirming that she could indeed give the cat a card, she proceeded on. She next asked me what Gypsie’s favorite color is. “Gypsie doesn’t have a favorite color,” I replied, “She’s a cat.” She thought for a second and then said almost to herself, “Oh yah, Gigi (Mazie’s friend) said Gypsie’s favorite color was orange,” and then made a card for the cat with orange as the feature color.
The logic of a five year old is awesome!Second story…Mazie is sitting on the steps and we are pretending. She is a doctor and wearing swim goggles. I ask her what the goggles are for and she doesn’t answer. After a few minutes more of doctor play I ask again, “So, you never did tell me why you are wearing goggles?” and she replies, “Cause I’m a doctor”. I say, “Doctors wear goggles?” and she says, “Pretend ones do.” Brilliant!
Tomorrow Mazie turns 6…
Larger Than An Uh-Oh
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Tyler is now 14 months old. He walks, points, grunts and says three words: uh-oh, hi and yay. At this point in her life Mazie spoke at least 40 different words. I remember listing them out on a piece of paper, because I was eager to see just how many different things she could say. I can count Tyler’s words on one hand. But, I digress. I’m here today to talk about what makes Tyler, Tyler. What differentiates him from all of the other 14 month old babies out there in the big, wide world.
I give you ten Tyler truisms (at least for now):
Larger Than Eeny-Meeny-Miny-Mo
Mazie’s new way to decide everything is eeny-meeny-miny-mo. What shirt to wear, who should put her to bed, which food should she eat first, the list goes on and on, and each item is put to the test with eeny-meeny. She reports at the end of each round of eeny-meeny, that “it” picked “x”. As if eeny-meeny were a sentient being that had an opinion and that opinion needed to be observed and followed. She rarely likes the conclusion that “it” comes to and this leads to another round of eeny-meeny. She has yet to figure out that if she starts eeny-meeny with the same hand each time, she will get the same result. So, this leads to another round of eeny-meeny, which leads to another round, and so on, until at some point she accidentally starts with the other hand and gets the answer she desires. If she already knows what option she wants, why does she insist on spending many precious minutes each day doing eeny-meeny? I am befuddled…
larger than a mushroom
that’s what my kid is. she’s a crazy one year old that can’t sit still and is in a state of constant flux. she’s great and she drives me crazy. for the most part people always described parenthood to me as this amazing and awesome experience that was the “hardest job you’ll ever love”. i wasn’t one of those people that fell in instant love with my kid the second she was born. i didn’t suffer from post pardom depression, but i did suffer from a post pardom reality shift. it’s still really difficult for me to have the selflessness needed to be a mom. not being able to do what i want when i want sucks a lot of the time, but this crazy experience of raising a kid is something that i’m ultimately glad i signed up for.