The Plan

I feel I left things on a sour note, and need to give you an update in the getting-my-toddler-to-do things department. Shortly after our walk, I instigated something I like to call “The Plan”. I had the idea that if Samson knew what the plan for the day was, he’d be less likely to be surprised by what was coming up next, and I figured if we wrote it down, he could held accountable for what was on the list. It sounds like a yet another self-help book, and who knows–maybe some day it will be, but for now, The Plan is a to-do list S and I write in the morning that we follow through to the afternoon. After nap time, we make another list. The Plan is always very simple and includes many steps. We started by writing it in a visible place (the chalkboard) so S could cross things of as they were completed. When he really took to it and it became a part of our daily routine, we moved on to a notebook that we carried with us. Sometimes I write the plan, sometimes he does. (His “scribbles” there actually say “a rest”, but he’s actually been remembering and following the plan even if what he writes are just scribbles.) He’s at a point where he’s interested in order, memorization, and writing–perfect for The Plan. “Ma, can you write: watch 844?” “Ma, can you write: eat banana?” Samson has always been like this–he’s particular. He has an idea of how something will be and if you deviate from what he imagined, he will most likely be upset. Understandable when you’re not in the critical meltdown moment. The Plan is a way for him and us to have input in, and stick to a plan as a family.

This has been working remarkably well. We’ve been getting a nap in every day at the same time, stuff has been getting done, there have been fewer meltdowns. Really, with The Plan, we’ve opened the door for routine, even if it changes from day to day. After about two or three weeks of The Plan, we’re now making lists verbally and pretty much sticking to them with little complaining.

Obviously, this idea is not new. Parents are always planning their kids’ lives, even if all it amounts to is okay, five more minutes and then bath. It was always there. I guess it just took a walk for me to remember.

Things they don’t tell you about parenthood

You’ll be absolutely, capital-G-Gutted when you see a train (or whatever your kid loves) and they’re either sleeping or not with you.

You’ll (happily) go mining in your kid’s nose.

Gestation and birth is alien. Your own or adopted, the kid becomes yours at some point while you’re busy caring for them.

You’ll genuinely be so flippin’ excited to go to the zoo because you can’t wait to see their reaction.

You’ll do *anything* to make them laugh. Over and over. And over. In public.

You’ll have someone else take a picture of you in your wedding suit on an aircraft carrier in New York so you can send a shot like this to your kid right around bedtime.

And he will LOVE IT.

Dowwwwn

I am not emotionally equipped to have a rough-and-tumble boy (or child in general). It’s been a rough week.

Modern Canadian Mommy?

Is this every modern Canadian mother’s story? Sitting in the car with a dog and a sleeping baby, sipping a Tim Hortons beverage? (Mine’s a coffee, double cream.) I use the time to blog, or read (thank goodness for Kobo!), or just to enjoy the twenty minutes of silence. That is, until my psychotic dog decides to bark at something and wake the baby. She rarely does that, though. I think she enjoys the silence too.

Flaming Lips

July 8th, Samson attended his first concert: The Flaming Lips at the Molson Amphitheatre. He liked the big balloons. Two guys sitting next to us caught one of them for him so he could see it up close. He fell asleep towards the end with minimal fussing. We (as parents) were a huge hit. People stopped us to tell us we were the BEST parents, Hubby got to flirt with ladies swooning over the baby, and I saw men noticing Samson and nudging their girlfriends to look at the baby. That’s partly because he looked super cute in his ear muffs, which also guaranteed it looked like we thought through the whole bringing-a-baby-to-a-concert thing right to the end. Honestly, we never thought twice about bringing him, because we expected to see more babies—especially at this venue, where usually you can get lawn seats. And if there was any reaction I was expecting it was one more of annoyance from other concert goers. I’m not going to go on too much about preparedness and over-thinking things as a parent, but I really think the best experiences your parents can offer you are the ones they didn’t think twice about—all that stuff that doesn’t come out of a book, but just seems natural.    

At least I didn’t tweet it

When my best friend’s sister (sorry, Maya, I know you read this blog) was a baby, her grandmother proudly “saved” her first poo in the potty so her parents could see it when they got home from work. She put the potty out of the way, and covered it (and the poo) with a paper towel. I thought that was gross. And weird. And I guess it was. I mean, I know the first poo in the potty is a huge step in a baby’s life, but wouldn’t a retelling of the momentous occasion suffice? ‘Cause that’s poo laying around your house.

Well people, I normally hate the phrase “as a parent” because I think it’s unfair and completely pretentious to assume someone can’t understand something if they’re not a parent themselves, but seriously what I just did may be something you will only get as a parent. I just took a picture of Samson’s first poo on the potty so that Hubby could see it when he got home. I can’t believe it–I was so proud of the bowel movement my kid made not in his pants that I needed to document it. I was giddy! The phone shook as I took it! And since it’s rather dark in our laundry room, I had to take several–just to get the composition and focus right.

Know what? When Hubby came home he wasn’t grossed out! He cradled the phone, giggling. “But he didn’t actually do this on the potty, did he?” “Yes! He did!” And then he cradled the phone HARDER.

What a wonderful world I live in that I can take a picture of poo and not have to send my film to a lab to scare some poor technician. Technology saved me the trouble of trying to save the poo for Hubby in the potty, cause I’ll tell ya–no paper towel is going to keep my hound away from poo laying around the house.

And you know what I couldn’t help but think as I was snapping that photo? That ’round the world, I’m sure, POLAROID was wasted on poo shots. I thought that for an  instant. And then, so proud of my boy, I thought, it was probably worth it.

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Of Note’s taking a short break, and will be back next week!

Mr. S on Solids

mmm that’s pretty good quickly turns into….

oh wow. that’s weird. where can i spit this out. hey—you with the camera! are you getting this for child services?!

(i don’t get to be in many shots with mr. s, so I am oh so grateful for this one)

um. no comment.

Coming soon to Samson’s blog—HD video and more photos of the event! (In case you’re one of his more die hard fans.)

Morning

Never mind that it’s easier, more restful and studies show it helps to develop babies (and children) who are healthier, less anxious, and, contrary to popular belief, actually more independent, I co-sleep with my baby ‘cause I love waking up to this every morning.

Bathtime

We’re not ones for gimmicky baby stuff. I think, in the grand scheme of things, we live with very few baby essentials, of which I am quite proud.

Which is why, before Samson was born, we followed our midwife’ s no-nonsense advice and didn’t get a ramp style newborn tub ($30, left).

Instead, we got a simple, old style, baby tub ($8, right).

No frills. It’s just white, with a lip to lift it, and a place to put soap, if you like. It’s great. It was perfect for the “swaddle baths” we gave Samson as a newborn, so he could be completely under the water and didn’t get cold. [FYI: totally the best tip on how to bathe your baby. I will tell you about it if you want.]

Samson’s now 5 1/2 months, and about 20 lbs. He’s a brute. He likes to splash. He has outgrown his baby bathtub, and he has long outgrown his “bucket bath” (a.k.a. a square bowl I usually use for dishwashing while camping, but is now used for those times when a wipe just won’t do).

Being people who don’t like spending money on unnecessary items, we first tried the infant bathtub in the big tub. I don’t know if our tub is super low or what, but it just was not comfortable. Hubby couldn’t even lift Samson out of the tub because his centre of gravity was all off. And seeing as Samson still can’t really sit on his own, it was hard to keep a handle on him. So I reluctantly took a trip to Toys R Us to see what I could spend some money on to make our lives easier. I had heard about blow up tubs and suction cup seats and blow up seats and over the edge tubs and no slip mats–basically, I was led to believe there would be a bunch of options.

What Toys R Us actually offers amounts to not much. They have a plethora of infant style slings, and ramps and all that stuff that I already decided was not for us, and was glad I never spent money on. Besides, they’re all for tiny babies, which Samson is not.

The only other option is the much-talked-about-on-Apartment-Therapy Hoppop:

Sure, it’s beautiful, but it’s 70 bucks. Do I really need to be spending 70 bucks for something that’s going to last Samson another 3 or 4 months? Not really. A friend of mine offered to lend me her blow up tub, but when I hear about blow up anything, I immediately think *insert guilty mom conscience here*: What Would Twwly or Lallydone do? I’ll tell you what they’d do. They wouldn’t buy a PVC bathtub, that’s for sure! *tsk tsk tsk*

So, we went the 100% granola (free) route, and I now get into the big tub with Samson. It’s cute, it doesn’t take that long, and it also gives me a chance to perform that sacred European wash-up-before-bed ritual. Still, while it’s great that I can bond with my baby and all, sometimes it would be nice not to have to sit up to my navel in a tub of water that while not cold, is definitely not up to my bathtime standards. Also, I have De Quervain’s, so most of the time while I’m holding Samson, I’m imagining my wrists finally giving out, him slipping under the water and having his first experience inhaling a mouthful of water. So yesterday I started researching online. Options! Lots of them. What’s going on? And then I found this notice from Safe Kids Canada, and it all fell into place.

Allow me to digress for a moment; I promise this will lead back to my point. When we first got Addie, our coonhound, we were reluctant to try her off-leash.  Our reasoning was, we didn’t want to be the dopes who let their hound off her leash and then were surprised she ran away. Same as, sure, in an emergency, or when you’re tired, you could totally accept your friend’s offer of a drive home and hold your baby on your lap because probably nothing is going to happen. But if it does, do you really want to be explaining to the police why your baby flew out the window? How would you ever live with that guilt? So, I would think, it translates into bath seats. Sure, you could leave your kid for a second in the bath, but why take the risk? Well, apparently people do take these risks, and because of these dopes, I now cannot find options to bathe my baby anywhere. Because instead of taking responsibility, admitting they took a risk, saying it backfired, and next time not leaving their kid in the bath alone–they want to blame someone. This is the same mentality that leads to labeling sour cream with may contain dairy warnings, party goers suing hosts for letting them drive drunk, and McLaren needing to recall a mass of strollers because they can amputate a child’s finger if you try to close it while your child is inside. (Not to mention all the warnings that are plastered all over baby stuff and insist on ruining the background for all my pictures.) Sure, you can still find these bath seats and blow up baths, but they’re relegated to Walmart and Zellers, which immediately stigmitizes them as something unsafe or–god forbid–what poor people use. I’m not saying I love everything at Walmart, or Toys R Us, or even places like Parenting By Nature or  Baby on Hip, but why can’t I make my own decisions?

We’re probably going to stick with the granola route, because Samson’s on the verge of sitting on his own anyway. I’ll probably focus my efforts on finding a no slip mat for the big tub, but really, something like this would have been a lifesaver.

Bump

Before it’s not January anymore, and my excuses are all gone, here are some of the lovely absolutely freakin’ AMAZING photos Miss Evans took over the course of my pregnancy. She’s something, ain’t she?