Slip Slidin'

Wyatt hates the slide.  Its just a thing.  He will go down little ones but runs to the top of large slides and then goes back down the way he came.  There is no cajoling, no bribing, no riding down together.  Kid just won't do it.  So, I stopped trying.  Figured it was a phase and he'll slide when he's ready.  Then we were at the park (we go almost every other day), he went down on his belly.  No Big Deal.  Just did it.  He still will only go on his belly.  But its a start, right?

Side note: I was so excited I almost peed myself. Literally, I was running, jumping around taking pictures, cheering.  I don't think I could have been happier if he solved world hunger.  That's my boy.  On the big slide.

Time-Out

Wyatt and I have been having some problems.  I have mentioned this before.  About his refusal to listen.  His sometimes dreadful sharing skills.  His willingness to push my last button.  His talking back.  And of course his repeated use of that God Awful word: no.  In response, I have added the time-out chair.  Which worked for about 2 minutes.  He simply doesn't care.  It's not incentive enough for him to quit his bad behaviour.  He will give himself time-outs when he is being extra crabby.  On my next attempt, I decided to take away toys.  I would give him 2 warnings and on the 3 he gets something taken away and put on the top of the fridge.  He can get them back if he has an extra good day.  I still do that sometimes but it is only really effective when I can take something away immediately.  It doesn't work if we are out.  By the time we make it home, he is usually better behaved and has forgotten all about the incident.

Then we hit an impasse.  Drew, Wyatt and I were out to dinner.  For whatever reason, Wyatt was not having it.  He is always amazing so I guess he is allowed a bad day occasionally.  He asked to go to the bathroom about 3 times simply because he was bored.  Then he was running up and down the handicap ramp.  He refused to listen when our food came out.  Didn't eat one bite.  I tried all my tricks.  Nothing worked.  Finally, I asked him to sit down or we were going to leave.  He smirked at me and started walking backwards.  I looked at Drew, told him I was sorry but I had to grab Wyatt and run.  That Wyatt was testing me and I needed to act.  Could he please grab the check and meet us in the car?  As soon as I reached Wyatt he started screaming.  He was upset, I was upset.  As I was struggling to put him in his car seat and my face was inches from his, he reared back and slapped me.  Right. Across. My. Face.  I lost it.  It was the last straw.  Hitting is absolutely unacceptable.  Where did he even learn something like that?  I was screaming.  Wyatt was hysterical.  By the time Drew got into the car, no one was talking.  I couldn't even breathe, I was so upset.

After calling Jen, Kari, and chatting with Mom, I came up with another plan.  Obviously the time-out chair did not work, neither was taking away toys.  What about trying something I haven't done?  Why not reward positive behaviour instead of punishing bad?  (Totally Jen's idea. Give credit where credit's due.  She doesn't even have kids yet...brilliant)  Of course, Wyatt will always respond better to the things he is doing right.  So, I came up with this system. If he has a good day (see: sharing well, listening to his momma, cleaning up, etc) he gets a gold star for the day.  When he reaches 10 gold stars he gets a gift or an adventure, pretty much whatever he chooses.  Its his day.  Gammy bought this school bus chart and I put it by his bed.  Every night we go over why it was a gold star day or why it wasn't.  If he starts acting up all I have to say is "I'm not sure its going to be a gold star day, or, that's not really gold star behavior." And he usually stops.

This has been for about 3 months now.  I am not terribly consistant, which is a problem.  There are nights when we get home late or he's really tired that we don't put stars on.  But for the first month, it was religion.  And his behaviour changed.  He has been amazing.  There was one day that he was really upset and he turned to me with hand raised ready to hit me.  I grabed his wrist, got down on my knees, and said "Think about what you are doing right now.  Are you sure you want to do that?"  And he stopped.  That was the last time he tried to hit me.

For his first 10 stars, he asked to go to Toys R Us.  He tried riding every training wheeled bike in the store.  I was convinced that he was going to ask for another bike.  I said he had $50.  He ended up picking out this tow truck for $20.  That's what he wanted.  His second 10 stars, we went to Chuck E Cheese.  Mom told him that when he gets to 100 stars, we'll go to LegoLand.  At the rate he is going we will be there by Christmas.

Holy Hiatus, Batman!

Hello.  Anyone out there.  Have I lost all interest since I have taken a big ole' sabbatical. I really wish I could say it was for some really good, fabulous reason.  But it's really not.  I've just gotten lazy.

Anyway, first topic of business:

Saturday pictures are going to be postponed for a while.  Because I went and got my camera (well, Rebecca's really but I was using it...see: worst sister EVER) Stolen.  Yes, thats right.  The beautiful digital SLR that I love and cherish has been stolen.  So, I am stuck with a little point and shoot that is not much fun to use or my camera on my blackberry that takes pretty awful pictures.  I really haven't been taking that many pictures as a result of this disaster.

When we were coming home from Colorado I was faced with a dilemma. I had a decent sized pack that I was carrying (with my laptop, toys, books, snacks, markers, essentials) plus our coats and Wyatt and his small backpack with cars to look after while navigating 2 airports.  I really wanted to add my camera to that list but with its extra weight and size I thought it would break the camels back and surely I would lose something; probably Wyatt, as I was juggling all our things.  I sat in our room, packing, staring at my laptop in one hand and the camera in my other.  I decided to keep the laptop with us and stow the camera in our checked bag.  I put it into the case, wrapped it in Wyatt's winter jacket, tied the sleeves around the case and buried it in the middle of our suitcase.  I also threw my point in shoot camera in the bag as well.

We get to the airport, check our bag, get on our flight.  Our bag goes to Newark.  We go to JFK.  Great. By the time we land in NY, we have been traveling for 8+ hours.  Its 11pm.  Wyatt has reached his toddler patience level after being AMAZING on the flights.  I am ready to be home and fed...cause, did I mention, we almost missed our connection because we were late landing.  And missed getting lunch and US Airways evidently doesn't sell dinner.  Great.  I didn't even really care that our bag didn't show up.  I was just happy to be in the home stretch with a potential Diner in our future.  When I go to report our missing bag there are about 15 people on line.  There was NO WAY it was going to be ok.  So, we left.  I decided I would deal with the bag tomorrow.

I had to pick the bag up at JFK 2 days later. Since I didn't file a claim immediately they couldn't send it to me.  Wyatt was ok with the extra trip cause we made a pit stop at Auntie B's.  When I got my bag with the little lock still in place, I just grabbed it and left.  It wasn't until I got home that I realized the SLR camera was missing.  Everything else in tact.  Everything else accounted for.  I was livid.  I AM Livid.  When a lady from US Airways baggage told me that she was sorry for my lost items, I lost it.  I was screaming 'You stole my camera.  It wasn't lost.  It was stolen!'  Clearly, they have not owned up to the incident.  But believe me.  I will get them to give me something.  Damn it.  I paid $25 in baggage fees for them to steal my camera.

When I told Bec, I asked if she wanted the good news or bad news.  The bad news: I lost her camera.  The good news: it gives me a damn good excuse to buy a new fancy one with my tax return!

38/39 Months

Bud,

I think Colorado is a pretty good reason for combining two months of letters.  Although, I'll admit I am feeling rather guilty about it.  I have been so diligent and things have seemed to fall a little apart lately.  This whole no nap thing is working out really well.  However, by the time I get you to bed at 8, I usually just want to sit, watch TV, and be lazy.  And funny enough, it is hard to remember all that we have done in two months.  My memory is going.  I am seeing the genius of post-it notes all over again.

In addition to the Colorado adventure, we spent several other days running around the city on other photo shoots.  First was a Toys R Us packaging shoot in Jersey.  You had to sit and play with this little fire truck.  Easy Cheesy.  They took about 22 pictures and the photographer said 8 were tagged as good. I was impressed.  But hell, I'm always impressed with you.  Then we trekked into the city to play on playgrounds and have dinner with Auntie B.  The second shoot was for this fancy Italian clothing company called Il Gufo.  That one went less then fabulous.  We had an 8am call in the city but they weren't really ready for you until 11.  It was a lot of waiting around.  Although you did have a great time hanging out on the street with some of the other kids.  Sharing all your trucks very nicely.  They opened the garage doors to the studio that led out to a cobblestone street in the meatpacking district.  You played tag, lost a library book, and had some snacks.  Then promptly fell asleep on Drew's lap when they were ready for you.  I think they got one or two good pictures with A LOT of toy bribing.  We left and went directly to Toys R Us for your just reward.  I think we might take a break with the clothing shoots for a while now.  You really could care less about changing clothes 12 times and taking pictures.



Can you see the film crew?



We finally got around to having your 3-year-old well visit.  I kept on making appointments and you would be sick.  And (who knew) you can't combine well visits and sick visits.  You are 35lbs and 3'4" tall.  Still clocking in the 95th percentile for height.  75th for weight.  I had been worried about your eating habits which are picky, at best.  I can't remember the last time you willingly ate a vegetable.  You are living off of cream cheese and baked clams lately (not together, Thank God.).  I'll give you breadsticks with cream cheese and find you digging your finger in the cream cheese like its frosting.  But it seems like you are doing just fine.  What I am really worried about is that damn binky.  I have been trying to get you to loose it for months now.  When you made your room switch, I laid off for a while.  (Which is still going FABULOUSLY!!!)  My new rule is your binky belongs in your bed.  But then sometimes you'll get mad and storm off upstairs and get it.  I'll find you playing contently, on the floor of your room, with the damn binky.  I even tried the binky fairy.  But you told me that she is not going to take your binky's away because thats not nice because their yours.  Clearly.  I know you will stop eventually and I have to be patient but a 3 year old with a binky habit is just not ok with me.

I had a huge scare with you the other day.  I was on our street chatting with another mom while you ran around with all the kids.  Typically nice weather behavior.  You have run up and down without my assistance a million times.  The kids range from 2 to 10 years old and kind of take care of each other.  Anyway, I watched you walk down the side street with Gianna and turn out of my sightline.  I assumed that you were headed into their backyard.  5 minutes later, Gianna returns.  Without You.  "Where's Wyatt?" I asked.  Gianna shrugged.  I start running down the street with Liam, 5, and Athena, 7, calling your name. We head down the side street all the way to its end at the beach.  No you.  Visions of you running on the road, floating on the water are rushing through my head.  Athena went one way, Liam and I the other.  We found you around the corner, playing in the sand.  "I wanted to go to the beach." you told me as I reprimanded you for leaving without me.  I was hyperventilating and dragging you back home.  Once I sat down and assessed the situation, I realized I had probably never told you Not to go down the beach by yourself.  I have always been by your side.  You are becoming more independent, which is good.  But it has happened again, which is not.  I found you on the front porch. "Getting something." Mini-Houdini. I am considering investing in a leash.

Dad and I took you to the park to try out your new bike.  Sadly, I think you might have inherited my abysmal coordination skills.  You really love riding but can't seem to steer and pedal at the same time.  Either you are focused on steering and your feet don't move or your feet are going a mile a minute and the bike is in a bush.  You will get it with more practice.  You also have a tendency to jump off the bike while it is moving claiming that it has "run out of gas" and you need to fill it up.  No matter how many times I have tried to explain that YOU are the GAS, you are convinced that your big two wheeler (plus training wheels) needs gas.  I really want you to get it because we have been riding in my bike a lot lately and I am not sure you are going to last much longer in that little seat.  It will be tons of fun to ride together.  Remember, Fancy Nancy, says 'Less then a mile, bike in style.'

We have been having some hard times lately, which might be another post all together. I think we are testing each other.  You are seeing how definitive my boundaries lie and I am testing the limits of my patience.  I just feel like we are on opposite sides of the spectrum.  Going to the same place but taking two very different directions.  You have seen a lot of the time-out chair.  Sometimes you even give yourself time-outs.  Despite our arguments, I try to remind you after every fight and at every night how much I love you.  I try to hug you a little more, kiss you when you will let me.  Be as attentive to you as I possibly can.  Try to show you I love you in between bargaining to leave the store without a toy, or begging you to go to the bathroom, or creatively distracting while wrangling you into your clothes.  We were in the car and out of the blue, utterly unprovoked, you said "I love you Momma."  Maybe it is sinking in that no matter the rough times, I will always love you.  That the love part is permeant and everything else is just a phase.

I love you everyday,

Your Momma