Picking Berry
Nope, not a typo. We went berry picking yesterday, and that’s exactly what happened. We picked a berry. One. A lonesome little blackberry. In my quest to find amusement for my tyrannical toddler, I thought that I would follow our great day at the zoo with an even greater day picking berries at a berry farm. Brilliant.
I researched our options, called ahead to make sure that there would be strawberries available (somewhat of a rarity at a lot of farms right now here in No. Cal.), packed the kid into the convertible and sped our way down the coast. It was a gorgeous day, and Oscar took full advantage of it by . . . sleeping almost the entire way there. Not complaining, mind you, an hour’s sleep for this kid is a gift. We arrived at the farm, and headed in. I was so excited. He loves strawberries and he loves picking things apart. This was going to be great. So, we head in, and I notice that no one is in the rows where the strawberries are planted. I look closer and see that there isn’t any fruit on the plants. Everyone was off picking blackberries. Fine. Whatever, a berry is a berry.
So we found ourselves a row of blackberries and I bend down and show Oscar what to do. Pick the berry, admire your handiwork and pop it in your mouth. Repeat, but put the new berry in the basket. He bends down and looks up at me as if to say – I’m sorry, you want me to do what?
After some encouragement, he leans in and tests things out himself.
I’m thinking this is going pretty well. He’s coming towards me holding a berry, showing off his handiwork.
He turns around, presumptively to go pick some more berries. I stand there looking at him, thinking how independent he’s becoming, and he turns back to me. Stops. And signs “car.” Meaning, let’s go to the car. Like right now. I try to talk him into picking more berries, but he’s done, so I concede defeat. We get back to the car, drive another hour home and that’s our day out. Ah, memories…
Oscar’s First Show
The zoo is celebrating its 80th anniversary and decided to put on a show for the kids. We got up early to enjoy the early admission and members’ show, which I thought would be better than going to the general show, where I figured there would be hundreds of kids. Yep, there were hundreds of kids at the show we passed as we left, but there were just as many at 8:30 this morning. Kind of crazy, really. Don’t people sleep? Oscar wasn’t a big fan of the performance, so we left to go to the zoo’s park, and climbed the slide, played on the swings and talked to the resident peacock. I figured we were done, but Oscar started leaning me towards the savanna (the African exhibit), where we saw many giraffes, including a baby, birds I didn’t recognize and many gorillas, antelope like creatures, an ostrich and a zebra. He then wanted to see the lemurs and meercats, and we also went to the petting zoo. But that’s not all, I put him into his stroller, and he jumped out and started running all over the place. It was insane. He was having the time of his life. He ran to the turtle hatchery, saw the owls and on and on. I’ve never seen him like this. We decided to reward his good behavior with his first two rides on the carousel (which is a big deal to me, since they make me really dizzy). It was fantastic. Sadly, it all came crashing to an end the moment we got into the house. He’s been screaming ever since – someone is overtired and refusing to take a nap. But at least we have the morning.
Oh, and this – THIS is the llama that spat on me. I was telling Oscar how beautiful it was and it bared its teeth at me (all while I’m saying “oh and look at its beautiful teeth”) and wham! he snorted right into my face. I don’t like llamas anymore.
The abuse continues
You know, I really had been hoping that the head-butting, hitting, pinching and kicking that started to occur recently were random, isolated incidents. I am coming to realize that this violence is not going to stop on its own. Slugger came at us full force this weekend, slapping my face, pinching Nanny Norma’s cheek (the combination of which earned him his first time out, which was not a fun experience for him), kicking my head while I was trying to get him to nap and then, the piece de resistance, another head-butt to the nose yesterday afternoon when our dog Riley woke him up from his nap. We’re doing time outs now each time he’s at all aggressive, but I don’t know if that is enough. We’re also withholding his one piece of candy per day (a tiny little gummy bear) if he’s not nice. I’m not sure that he understands that, though. What do you all do? I don’t think it’s too early to discipline him; I just want whatever I do to be effective (or at least possibly effective – I know not all kids are going to react the same to methods)…
Precious moments
Don’t you just love those special moments when you’re sitting with your child, looking into each others eyes like on a television commercial? I’ve had, oh, probably two or three of those moments, although mine always seem to end a little differently than you think they do on t.v.
A week or so ago, Oscar and I were sitting on the floor. He was on my lap looking at me, holding my face and leaning in to give me a little kiss. He makes the most adorable little noise when he’s being sweet to me – when he gives me his favorite stuffed animal (his pink pig) to kiss or when he’s giving me his partially masticated breakfast to share (only if it’s particularly yummy and gooey).
So, he’s sitting there, leaning in, making the sweet noise and giving me a tiny little kiss. He leans back and does it again. And I’m thinking, oh, my sweet little boy. Isn’t he just the most precious thing ever?!? He leans back a third time, much further this time, all smiles, holding my face, rocks forward with all the force he can muster, drops his head down and head butts me in the nose so hard that I fall over. He’s laughing his butt off, I’m literally seeing stars and am so dizzy I cannot get up. Then the little monster tries to pull me up to do it again, signing “more, more, more.” By this time, I’m actually nauseous, but I don’t want him to freak out so I ask him to go get the ball from the other room. I manage to sit up and my face is throbbing. I touch my nose and almost start crying, it hurts so badly. Thankfully, my attempted diversion worked and Oscar is chasing a ball around the hallway, so all is well in his world.
I bring this up today because I have just returned from my second visit to my doctor as a result of our special family moment. I went in a couple of days after the “incident” because my nose was still swollen and hurt every time I washed my face or even when I was lying in bed on my side. The reason? Yeah, it was broken. My son, who is not yet two years old, broke my nose. What tops that? He did it again. This morning we were lying in my bed and he started throwing a tantrum (he wanted his milk in a bottle so he could lie down and he got it in a cup with a straw) and ended up kicking me in the nose. The same nose that was already broken and starting to heal. Good times.
Still alive
It didn’t really occur to me until I started getting email that I haven’t been around here for a while. When I looked at the date of my last post, I was shocked at how long I’ve been gone. Very neglectful blogger, but I guess something has to give when you’re working 110 hours in a week.
No big news around here to report. Oscar is turning into a full-fledged toddler. If you don’t have one yet, that means tantrums. Big ones. In our case, exacerbated by the fact he can’t talk and only has about 35 signs that he uses so far. So, if he wants something other than a cookie, ice cream, candy, apple, cracker, bread, banana, cheese, milk, juice or a bath, we’re kind of out of luck. I used to wonder, though, how parents could deal with their kids screaming their little heads off. They’d always just say you don’t notice it. I get it now. You just ignore it. It’s one of those parenting skills that must naturally be imparted to us, I guess.
The only major thing that has changed around here is that we switched to soy milk (earth-shattering, huh). I cannot tell you the difference it has made in Oscar. I feel HORRIBLE for not making the switch earlier. The poor kid has had some intestinal “issues,” shall we say. I so dearly want to tell you the story of one of these issues, but because of the nature of cyberspace, I simply cannot. Anyway, let me say that soy has changed our lives around here. I actually think Oscar’s temperament has changed, too. He’s just happier all the time (you know, other than when he’s screaming about not getting whatever it is that he wants that he can’t tell me that he wants). He also “talks” a lot more. Just babbling, but more of it. I really think the discomfort he was in permeated his daily life. I can’t believe I let this go on for so long. I have been wondering whether he had issues with cows milk since we were in Vietnam, but having changed his formula to soy once and hearing a lot of negative stories about the hormones in it, I switched back and didn’t go back. Probably a mistake.
So that’s pretty much all that’s been going on here. Sad, really. We managed to get to the Children’s Museum yesterday to see some friends and meet a new US citizen from Vietnam (the gorgeous young Ella, sister of Billy, the most hilariously active 2 year old in the world). Oscar ran around like a crazy child chasing a bird, managed to get soaked twice in the splashing pools and enjoyed the train room, and was so wiped out from our time there that he was asleep within in 2 minutes of being in the car. If only today were more like yesterday…
Quiet Weekend
Thanks everyone for your input on my last post. I’m pretty sure the nighttime groaning is related to a growth spurt, mostly because he’s now eating like a maniac. We went to B*st*n Market yesterday and split a meal – I had about 1/3 of the chicken breast and he had two sides of mac & cheese and the bread. He absolutely inhaled it. In fact, when I put it in front of him, he actually sat down (which he never does at restaurants or whatever this constitutes) and put his face into the macaroni so he could get it into his mouth faster. And this was only 3 hours after he ate yogurt, cheerios, a banana and bacon. He ended up licking the plate and had dried (and gooey) cheese everywhere, including in his hair, ears and tear ducts. It was a sight to behold.
I have to say it was a bit unnerving, since I seem to forget just how far we as adults have evolved from the somewhat primitive state toddlers are in. The way he ate yesterday was practically primal. He saw what he wanted and he devoured it. No social niceties here. It also confirmed I have a way to go on the manners front. Whatever, the little guy had a good time. I sort of wished that I had had a camera to document it, but as I came home covered in cheese, too, perhaps that would not have been the wisest idea.
That was kind of it for our weekend, aside from a shopping trip, where he spent the entire time jabbering away. It was grey and a little misty in SF, so we ended up sprinting outside when it would stop “raining” to play a bit, and Oscar even made his first escape. I’m trying to get him to get in and out of the car on his own, now that we’re in such a tiny little thing. He’s great about getting in, but when I let him out and bent down to get my purse, he tried to make a break down the sidewalk. Luckily I’m still faster than him (for how long? I don’t know).
Our big breakthrough, though, is that Oscar spoke! Twice, even. He said “bah bah” (bye bye) to his therapist when she left on Thursday, and on Saturday when I was trying to get him to take a nap I said “night night, Oscar,” and he kept sucking down his milk for a sec, moved his cup away and looked straight at me and said “nih nih”. Of course, he didn’t take a nap, but I really didn’t care after that. Little steps.
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Where I’ve Been
