Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Monthly Update: 26

Dear Foster,

Last month you turned 26 months old.

That's right.  I said last month.  This blog is late because it has been another whirlwind of a month.

It started when a bad cold turned into a bad stomach bug.  And, I mean B-A-D.  As in, you woke up in the middle of the night vomiting and vomited all. night. long.

The tummy bug lasted for a week, and all I heard, all week, was, "I no want no temperature."  Or, "I no want no fever."  Or, "It ba-woke." (Referring to your fever.)

Yeah, it broke all right.  Then came right back.  And, right back.  And, right back.

We could not keep your fever down, which was beyond frustrating.  You were such a pitiful little fella and it broke my heart knowing you felt so bad.

My heartbreak, however, was quickly balanced out by shock and awe over some "typical two-year old" behaviors that you displayed this month.  I am worn out and worn down after finally becoming "that mom". 

You know, the one that gives in to her child's temper tantrum.  The one that all the "how to discipline your child" books are written about.  The one that Super Nanny chastises on national television.  The one that all the other mothers scowl at when in public.  Yeah, that one.

I never thought I'd be "that mom", but what's a mama to do when her baby is sick, yet acting a fool?  It's a catch twenty-two.

I wanted you to drink fluids so that you wouldn't get dehydrated, so if you wanted "clock-it milk" (chocolate milk), you got it.

I wanted you to eat because an increase in your appetite meant that you were feeling better, so if you wanted "Chik-a-lay" (Chick-fil-A), you got it.

Those treats, however, became expectations once you were feeling better and when we said "no" (because, NO, you can't have chocolate milk and chicken nuggets every day!), the !#$% hit the fan, if you know what I'm sayin...

You ripped off your bib.  You threw your cup.  I yelled.  You cried.  I cried. You screamed.  You intentionally banged your head on the floor and then cried and screamed some more, "I hit my head! I hit my head!"

Because of this behavior, your daddy and I established a "cry chair" and now we put you in that chair every time you start in.

It's kind of like a time-out chair, but we only use it when you're pitching a fit.  Otherwise, we make the punishment fit the crime.

You don't want to wear your bib?  Fine, don't eat.  (Although, I must admit, after this battle I quit making you wear a bib.)  (I pick my battles, buddy, and so should you!)

You want to throw your cup?  Fine, you must be all done and I put it away.

You cry, scream, bang your head on the floor and don't want to stay in your cry chair?  Fine, I'll ignore you. 

Yesterday I actually walked around the house picking up CRUMBS in order to ignore you as you followed me around, pitching a fit over God Knows What.  And, guess what?  You stopped.

It worked!  Ignoring you worked.  Eventually.

Today you pitched a fit over God Knows What (really, I have no idea!) and when I put you in your cry chair, you did the whole arching-of-the-back-contortionist-thing and wouldn't stay in the chair, so I put you in your crib instead.  BINGO!

Surprisingly you still haven't climbed (or fallen) out of your crib, so putting you in there means you're stuck, which means, I WIN!

When you're not having a meltdown, you're a very sweet boy and you love playing with your "fa-wends" in your "ca-wib".

You and your "fa-wends" sleep together, eat together, watch movies together, go outside together, ride in the car together and even, sit on the potty together.  Sometimes you ask to bring all of them and we end up compromising on a few at a time.  Bear-Bear and Kitty Cat are your favorites.  Pooh-Bear runs a close third.

Because Bear-Bear is your BFF, he's always on your mind and you love to talk about him.

"Bear-Bear has no feets.  He has no legs.  He has no tummy.  He has no penis."

Sometimes you get a little sentimental about Bear-Bear, and ask, "Where's Bear-Bear's mommy?"

I'm never quite sure how to answer that one, so I say something different every time.

Maybe she's still at the store waiting for someone to buy her.
Maybe she's in the woods with all the other bears.  Eating honey.

You also love our pets and this morning when you woke up you began calling for Lucky.  Not me.  Not your daddy.  Lucky.

"Come in hee-ya, Lucky!  Lucky, come in hee-ya!  Come in my woom!"

The other day you and I were reading a book together, when up jumped Pumpkin.  She was purring, and your immediate comment was, "Pumpkin's snoring!"

I thought that was the cutest thing ever.  Almost as cute as you calling a street-sweeper, a "sweep-sweeper".  Or, nipples, "noodles".

It's true, you call them noodles!  So, as I'm getting dressed in the morning, you're pointing to them, "those are mommy's noodles." 

That's right, Foster, those are my noodles.

Another funny thing from this month happened one evening after your bath. 

We were all in your room, playing on the floor, when your daddy passed a little gas. (A-hem.)

He immediately said, "Foster, did you hear that frog?"  (Trying to distract you and me from what he had just done.)
You thought for a second, then said, "I hee-ya dat fa-wog in daddy's boo-utt!"

IN DADDY'S BUTT!  Ha, ha, ha!  No fooling you!

Naturally, a few days later you passed gas and without missing a beat, said, "dair's a fa-wog in my boo-utt!"

Daylight Savings Time started last month and instead of ushering in a season of you sleeping in later, you've been waking up earlier!

Are your daddy and I ever going to get to sleep past 6:30 AM ever again? (Yes, I meant to say EVER twice!)

Since you're up so early, you're all up in our business when we're trying to get dressed.  You won't watch cartoons, ya know.  Cartoons are for amateurs.

That explains why you're always pointing out my noodles, and at two years old, already wearing deodorant.

You don't put it under your arms.  No, you just put it under your shirt and rub it around wherever you can reach.  Once you got it up through the neck of your shirt and rolled it under your chin and another time you dropped it down your pants and it got stuck in the feet of your pajamas.

That kept you occupied for a while, so I just left well enough alone.  I figure deodorant can't hurt you unless you eat it, and luckily you're not one of those kids that eats non-food items very often.  It's a risk I'm willing to take if it'll keep you occupied for a while.

Because you're over two years old, we thought that maybe we'd start rewarding you for using the potty, so we bought some M & M's.  The miniature ones.

We keep them in a clear jar in the bathroom and whenever you try to pee or poop, you get one.

We were going to make you actually go pee or poop, but we're not sure you can control all of those functions yet, so we require you to push a little and since you've done both on the potty before, we know you have the ability to push something out some of the time.  Usually it's just a toot.

Either way, you get an M & M, or as you like to say an M & N.  Red is your favorite.

Another favorite thing or things, are koo-wucks (trucks).

I have neglected to write this down before, but you know all of the names for things with wheels, including construction vehicles.

Excavator, grader, scraper, feller buncher, cherry-picker - these are the ones I never knew.

Next to Bear-Bear, this is your favorite topic of conversation.  And, it makes for an easy activity.  There's always something with wheels wherever we go.  And, your Grandpa and Daddy have both taken you to construction sites just to watch the vehicles work.

More impressive than your truck knowledge, however, is your language development and I'm constantly blown away by what you understand and what you're able to say.  When I'm not surprised by it, I'm amused by it.

One of my favorite things to hear you say is "now", pronounced nay-ow.  Two syllables.

And, your newest words are "nope" and "hmmmm".

So, instead of just saying, "no", now (nay-ow) it's "nope!"

And, nay-ow when I ask you an open ended question, you answer with "hmmmm", as if you have to think about the answer.  (Which, I guess, maybe you do!)

Apart from all the drama this month, there have been some sweet moments too.

Cuddling with you.  Watching you play with your fa-wends.  And seeing you change ever so slightly, every day.

One of my fondest memories will be you saying "Don't ka-wy (cry) mama."

I don't know if I was really crying at the time, or if I was pretending to cry because you were being a turd.  Either way, you saying that is a reflection of what we say to you.  How you treat your friends is in direct correlation to how we treat you.  Maybe you're sweet because your daddy and I were first sweet to you.  I hope so.



We love Him because He first loved us.
1 John 4:19


  1. I laughed so hard reading this that tears came to my eyes. You are hilarious and a great writer. Such a sweet blog.

  2. Thank you, my dear. Now, if I could just figure out how to add those icons...