Hug your babies

This morning my son woke up extra early. I gave him a bottle and some toys and left him in the crib so that I could shower. After I got out of the shower, he started to scream.

I took him out of the crib, sang to him and changed his diaper, put on fresh clothes and tried to read him a book. All the while he kicked and thrashed. He screamed at me and banged his head against the floor. (He's into doing that now and I hate it.) When I held him, he fought me. When I put him down, he crawled into my lap and laid there. If I sang "Popcorn Popping," he laughed. When I tried to hand him something we could play with, he screamed and threw it. This all happened in his room.

I figured maybe he wanted to play with his other toys, so I opened the door and tried to get him to walk out to the living room. He's been carried his whole life and has grown somewhat accustomed to it. When I try to get him to walk first thing in the morning or right after a nap, he screams and goes limp so that I'm basically carrying him by the arms.

By this point, my fuse had been lit.

"Fine," I told him, leaving him in a bawling heap in the hall. "You may sit there and throw a fit. When you are finished, come find mommy and we'll play."

I went and started scrubbing dishes. My boy came into the kitchen and started pushing me away from the sink and the counter. He stuck himself between me and the cupboard and pushed. I got the point and dried my hands. I picked him up and carried him to the living room where I tried to sit down and read books.

He screamed.

And so it went for another hour. He didn't want left alone. He didn't want held. He didn't want me to put him down. He didn't want food or his water.  He would laugh and be cute, but then if he thought I was looking at him funny or maybe not looking at him enough, he'd scream and kick and thrash.

I tried to put him down for a nap after he'd been up for 2 hours, but he screamed for 20 minutes and cried himself into hysterics. I picked him up and we started the whole thing all over again.

I told my husband I think someone took our baby in the night and left us with this screaming monster.

He then told me the tragedy of a little girl, three years old, who was run over by a truck yesterday afternoon. She died early this morning.

My baby's behavior did not change, but mine did. I was more patient with him. I held him and let him cry for a while until finally he was just flopped across my legs letting me scratch his back. I gave him Tylenol (he's cutting molars) and put him down for a nap again. Even though he's asleep, I'm having a hard time not going in there and pulling him out of his crib so I can snuggle him close. Because somewhere there is a mother who won't get that chance.

I'm sorry I took my baby for granted this morning. And my heart aches for your loss. I've shed a few tears for you, and I've said some prayers for you. I hope that you'll find peace. Soon.

Choices

When we were growing up our parents always gave us choices. Rarely was it 'no' or 'do it' and that's it...there was always a choice. Such as: You can eat your dinner or you can go to bed; or you can choose to be nice to your sisters or you can choose to go stand in the corner.

I, for one, hate being told what to do! I just hate that someone thinks they have the right to tell me what to do and me follow, I feel it takes away my agency, my right at choices. You always have a choice and how frustrating is it when someone assumes they can make that choice for you by telling you exactly what to do. If I feel this way, imagine how a child who is growing and learning and desperately trying to figure out who they are must feel when every decision is made for them?

So I vowed that when I became a mother I would do the same thing. Give my children choices...sometimes I'm sure they don't like the choices (ex: you can stop throwing a fit and go clean your room now or you can stand in the corner and then go clean your room (either way the room is getting cleaned...but its still a choice)) or it could be one they like (pudding or Popsicle). Now as parents we do have to make choices for them (Planning dinner, where they live, ect) but the little things, especially when it comes to their ideas, attitudes and emotions can be put into choice form.

It allows them to express themselves, to realize they always have a choice and to help in the decision making as well as helps us teach them to recognise the good and true choices. So hopefully when they are growing up they can say to themselves - I have a choice and I'm going to make the right one.

A Lesson in Kindness

I was on a walk with my girls yesterday when I noticed that my two year old daughter had something on her shoe. She was dragging her shoe along the sidewalk to try and scrape it off, smearing whatever it was behind her. I also noticed several snails (the big ones that look like Spongebob's pet Gary) out on the sidewalk. I squatted down to point out the snail to my daughter and ask her to say hello to it. Then the most disturbing thing happened.

My little girl raised her foot, smashed that little snail, and ground it into the concrete.

I was shocked. I was horrified. I was speechless for a minute. I knew that I had to do something, but I didn't know what. I couldn't bring the snail back to life, its shell was shattered and its slimy body was plastered across the sidewalk.

Finally, I decided that the only thing I could do was express to my daughter the importance of showing respect and kindness to animals. I told her that God created all the animals, even the snails and that he expects us to be kind to them and take care of them. I explained that it is our job to keep them safe, and not to step on them. It hurts them when we step on them.

I am not sure if my message got through to my daughter, but she did apologize to the snail before we continued on our way. Hopefully the next time we meet a snail, it will be greeted with a friendly hello, and left to meander on its way.