Thursday, June 30, 2011

Leave your comments to yourself!

Ever since I started blogging (almost 3 years ago!), I've always wondered why people leave "bad" comments.  I'm still a huge Young House Love fan, but everytime they post about some new decorating they've done around their house, they receive a handful of "Eww, I don't like that," or "Why didn't you do it this way?" or "I can't believe you actually make a living off of this blog."  And everytime, they reply in such a light-hearted manner... "To each their own!" or "If we all decorated the same, this world would be a boring place!  XOXO."  But I always want to write in and say, "IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, THEN JUST DON'T COMMENT!"

Am I the only one who thinks that?

It's the old motto, "If you don't have something nice to say..."  Well, you know the rest.

If you don't...

In my little world here, I don't really deal with that.  On average, I get about 3 comments per post, so it's not like I have fans worldwide!!  haha  Once in awhile, I'll get spam... like the comment on my most recent post that said I could use help in naming my posts.  Thanks.  Really.  (Delete, delete!)

But I just can't handle it when people choose to comment on little elementary school videos posted on YouTube.  I know, I'm posting them publicly, so I run the risk of that. Sure, I get that.  I just don't get why people would bother writing something negative!  I posted a video of my staff and students doing our little "flash mob," and thankfully turned on the "comment approval" option.  I've already denied two comments, one saying we SUCKED (wow, really??) and one saying we weren't doing a "flash mob" at all, since no one was surprised.  That's when I kick into defensive mode and say, Yes, we suddenly broke into dance (def. of a flash mob), and yes, the kids were completely surprised by the teachers dancing.  Trust me, it was a hard secret to keep! 

But that's not really the point.  I just don't get why people decide to write those things in the first place.  Why bother?  Do they really not have anything better to do? 

Again, I've heard that when you go public with your thoughts, you put yourself in a place for people to share their opinions, positive and negative.  I guess I strive to be a positive person, so it surprises me when others aren't.  Oh, how naive I am!!  

Anyway, just ranting.  So, if you 'd like to offer me some unwarranted advice, go ahead.  I just might delete ya.  Or if you'd like to leave me a comment with some foul language, just make sure you use some dollar signs or asterisks.  My mom's reading this, ya know.  : )   

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Random ramblings on a Tuesday

I know you find yourself asking, "What's going on in Heather's head these days?"  It's a mystery, I know.  But here I am, to spill the beans (a.k.a. I don't have time for all the posts I'd like to do, so here they are all wrapped up in one.) 

* Potty training stinks.  Literally.  Was going to dedicate a whole post to it, but really, who wants to read about poop on my carpet and pee puddles in the kitchen?  Not me!  We're actually on hold with potty training for the moment.  I gave it 3 solid days, but I honestly don't think Aidan's ready.  If he's naked, he'll pee on his own every time.  Kind of weird to see him run out of the room, hear him pee & flush the toilet, and return to play.  But if he's naked, he poops anywhere.  So then we tried underwear.  After 8 wet pairs, I realized he doesn't see a difference between diapers and underwear.  Peed right through 'em everytime.  I tried to put him on a schedule, but often times, I was dragging a screaming boy to the potty.  BUT, at least if he pooped, the underwear would catch it.  Sooo... until he's ready to sit on the potty without acting like I'm murdering him, I think we're gonna just play it by ear.  Besides the fact that he's 3, there's really no rush to potty train him.  His preschool will take him either way. 

* My 4K is coming up July 9th!  And unlike most things in life, I actually have been training and am ready for it!  There's no last-minute cramming when it comes to a race.  The Couch-to-5K training has been great, and last night I ran for 25 minutes without stopping, albeit very slowly.  Got myself some new shoes, some tight running leggings (eek!), and a couple supportive racerback tanks.  Oh, and a dri-fit purple Huskies shirt!  I seriously LOVE shopping for workout gear.  Call me crazy.

* Lilah's signing the word "more" now.  It's so helpful!  I think we're gonna have to take the binky away soon... her top 2 teeth seem to be moving out, which was my biggest fear when I introduced it.  Ugh. 

* I misplaced my camera card at work, so I actually haven't taken pictures for two weeks!  But I finally remembered I had an SD card in my videocamera that I wasn't using, so I snapped my first photos yesterday.  Ahhh, felt good.

Hey Lilah, poop goes in the potty.  Not your foot.

My lame rendition of the cover of Aidan's favorite Potty Train book.  Like my painter's tape?

Flushing in action (and someone needs a haircut!)

* I am way too addicted to facebook.

* Having a hard time with Aidan lately.  Someday when he's older, I'll read him all of these posts about how he drove his Mama crazy, and we'll laugh.  Hopefully.  Unless he's still driving me crazy.  Then I'll just say, "See, you were trouble even back then!!!"  : )  He's still seeing Lora, his awesome OT who also has a tough son of her own.  Sometimes I think our sessions are more of a support group than actual therapy for Aidan!!  But what really hit home was when she said, "Aidan is the toughest kid on my case load."  His moods are just so unpredictable.  He could walk into Lora's building kicking and screaming and then have the greatest session.  Or he could walk up, excitedly saying, "Yora day!  Yora day!" and then scream for the whole 45 minute appointment. 

I just never know what sets him off.  And I don't know how to calm him down, reliably.  Sometimes, timeouts work (in his bedroom.)  But I can't do that in public.  I took the kids with me to my principal's house for our last day staff party, and when it was time to leave, he threw a major fit.  It's like he was mad we were leaving, but then didn't want to stay either.  When my principal mouthed, "Is he ok??" I responded with, "He's going to a developmental preschool in the fall."  I shouldn't have to make an excuse, but I feel like I do.  Then I said, "He has some self-regulation issues," and my boss joked and said, "Don't we all!"  That made me feel better, but I was still embarassed.  The icing on the cake was when Aidan pushed her (and another teacher) as I was getting the car.  Just crossing my fingers I still have a job in the fall!!  haha

Part of the problem, I believe, is that his speech is falling further behind his cognitive development.  So he just can't articulate what's wrong or what he needs.  I'm taking him to a new speech therapist today (he's met her once), but already have a feeling it might end in disaster.  Have another evaluation with a male therapist on Thursday who I've heard is fantastic.  Might be a good thing to be with a guy.  We'll see.  Chad and I are just hoping to survive this stage.  It's hard to go anywhere (playdates are tough, restaurants are a joke, even the park can cause meltdowns.)  We're hoping preschool will turn things around - I've heard it usually does.

* I made cantaloupe shaved ice (with frozen lemonade concentrate) and pretty much ate the entire batch myself.  Shut up, scale!

* I want the sunshine to stay, but the heat can go.  I'm such a Washington girl!

* I'm already missing dancing with my kids and can't believe the 5th graders won't be there in the fall.  (check out the flash mob we did on the last day of school!)     

* Started cleaning out the garage last night.  Have a lot of little (or BIG) projects like that on my summer to-do list (like finishing the edging of my grey "Dolphin Fin" paint around my bedroom!!)  

* 8th anniversary coming up on July 12th.  Yay us!

* Have to go to the bathroom right now.  Do I get a "yollipop"? 

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Lilah @ 13 months

Time is flying, baby girl!  13 months already!

Stats from your 1 year appt. (technically @ 13 months):
Weight: 25 lbs. (they didn't write it down for me this time... can't remember the ounces)
Height: 31 in.
Head: 47 cm (?)

All "off the charts," they said (above 95%.)  Wouldn't have expected less!  You're about 1 pound and 1 inch less than your brother was at this age. 

Just the other day, I said to you and Aidan, "Stop!  Mommy wants to take a picture."  And you BOTH stopped.  Too bad the neighbor playing basketball was waaaaay more interesting, but at least you got the idea. 


You are a mess-maker extraordinaire.  It's fun to see how opposite of your brother you can be.  You are great at spoon-feeding yourself, but I think it's because you don't care about the huge freakin' mess you make.  Aidan, on the other hand, still flips about applesauce on his shirt.  I think I'm starting to appreciate his neat freak ways, though.  Getting awfully tired of mopping the floor, missy! 


You're walking at a pretty quick pace these days, are really steady on your feet, and are becoming quite the climber.  And you have already figured out how to climb halfway out of the tub!

You look SO UNBELIEVABLY CUTE in this little tutu swimsuit you got for your birthday.  Aidan thinks so too.  In fact, he wanted your swimsuit.  To wear it.  The boy loves tutus, what can I say?  : ) 


You smile and wave at most everyone, although elderly people seem to scare you a bit.

Total teeth count: 8 (top right molar is in!)  And next time I want to count your teeth, how about not biting, ok??  Thanks.

Speaking of teeth, you have now surpassed your stubborn brother's non-teethbrushing ways (at least when he was this age.)  He would cry, but at least his mouth was open.  You, on the other hand, lock your lips so tight, I can't even sneak a toothbrush in.  And if I manage, your tongue goes a-flyin' and blocks my every move!  Darn you!! 

Hats?  Not a fan.  Or headbands.  You tolerate clips, thank goodness!

You love cheese with avengence.  String cheese, cottage cheese, cheddar cheese, and little triangles of Laughing Cow cheese (light, of course!  We're watching our girlish figures in this house.) 

You're affectionate and give out hugs and kisses (well, your version of kisses anyway) freely.  And your smiles... oh my, they're still soooo contagious! 


You seem to have a lot to say, even if we can't understand you just yet.

You would sit like a zombie in front of the TV if I let you, so I try to schedule Aidan's TV/quiet time during your nap.  Doesn't always work out that way. 

Dirt.  You love it.  'Nuff said.


You apparently look good in pink, 'cuz I put you in it a lot.  Sorry 'bout that.  I really don't put you in pink ALL the time.  Just like your mama, you look good in blue, white, green, and brown. 


(I actually bought these striped pj's for my friend's daughter and now Lilah gets to wear them!  The perks of having a girl and getting hand-me-downs!!  I can't get over the cuteness of my little jailbird.)  : ) 

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Stop means, "Go faster?"

There's a time for running.  Or ruh-NING

Run, Forrest, run!

There's also a time for stopping.  But this little concept seems to be lost on my 3-year-old.  Case in point... on Sunday, I took Aidan to his first open swim at the YMCA.

I should've known what was coming.  We walk in and a kid (probably Aidan's same age, but way more communicative) says, "Don't forget, you have to get your hair wet first.  And when your mommy says it's time to go, you have to go, no complaining.  And never run on the pool deck.

Wise words, kid.

Aidan was in a great mood... even after we had to go all the way back home to get my swimsuit bottom (apparently I grabbed two tops -- I like to mix and match, but a swimsuit top and underwear wasn't gonna cut it.)  Anyway, he didn't fuss.  He didn't even complain.  We went home and then went all the way back to the pool.  He got in.  He swam!  He really liked the swim noodles and wanted to steal them from every kid.  But he was sharing them too.  He kept saying, "I'm wimming, I'm wimming!"  So proud.

So then comes time to LEAVE.  Yep.  That crappy time you dread, 'cuz you know your kid's gonna throw a tantrum worse than Charlie Sheen's.  Sooooo, being the good mommy that I am, I gave him PLENTY of warning.  A lot.  I laid it out clear as day what was about to happen. We'll get out and dry off with your monkey towel.  You can lock yourself inside the locker if you want.  And then we'll go see Dada!  Blah, blah, blah, you know what's coming next...

I steer him to the stairs and he starts fussing.  And more fussing.  But he finally complies and gets out, and even says bye-bye to the pool and the noodles.  But once he hits the pool deck, it happens.  He RUNS.  I mean, full speed ahead.  Here's how it went down...

Aidan takes off running.
The lifeguards are blowing their whistles wildy, yelling, "STOP!  STOP!!"
The entire pool is silent.
I'm speed-walking after him, yelling and trying not to fall myself (and look like a big goober.)
The lifeguards are trying to get him from the other direction.

And there's my boy.  Taking his victory lap with a huge smile on his face, in his little Thomas the Train swimsuit.  I swear I could faintly hear the theme from Chariots of Fire in the distance.

A lifeguard finally catches up to him (more like Aidan caught up to her) and holds him while I get there.  Of course, he's squirming and yelling, "Yet go!"  My face is red, my adrenaline's going.  I'm also wondering if I look horrible in my swimsuit.  But that's beside the point.  I get Aidan into the locker room and he's fine, happily playing in the locker and talking about how he went "wimming in the the waggle pool" (water pool.) 

Soooooo... my question after all that is... when will they ever listen to the word "STOP?"  

Just yesterday, Aidan went running out into the parking lot and kept going, even with a car coming and his Mama screaming.  I thought the pool was different because the lifeguards were blowing their whistles and yelling the whole time (at other kids), so why would it mean anything to him?  But when it's ME yelling, you'd think he would listen.

Is it a 3-year-old thing? Is it a boy thing?  Is it fixable?  Should I do a "stop-go" boot camp??  (seriously pondering that idea.)  I usually solve the problem by avoiding those situations in the first place -- put him in a shopping cart while we're in the parking lot... carry him... hold his hand, if he'll let me. But sometimes, I just can't avoid it and he just has to listen.  

But how???  I'm stumped.  I've tried timeouts, but public timeouts don't work so well (because I'm usually by myself with both kids when this happens.)  Looking for some wise parental advice.

And maybe a harness

: )