Funny Guy

Kids are funny. I think most parents love to entertain, and admittedly sometimes bore, our friends with funny stories about our kids. Try typing "Funny Kid" into YouTube and you will see what I mean. A lot of these anecdotes are based on the unintentionally amusing things our kids say or do. There is the crazy head-banging, rump shaking dance my friend's daughter does every time "Hollaback Girl" comes on the radio. Or there was the time I told my husband that Baby M was gassy and Baby M piped up with "I went to the gas station."

But now Baby M is intentionally trying to make us laugh and it's so fun to watch his developing sense of humor. At first his favorite joke was to call things by the wrong name. "That's a truck," he'd say pointing to a flower and giggling uncontrollably. Then he moved on to throwing things adding "I funny" just in case I didn't get the joke. "No not funny," I'd say in my very best unamused, stern momma voice, which, of course, he just laughed at. Thankfully, that stage is over, but now we are on to poop. Poop is hilarious. It's hilarious to say, it's hilarious to hear. Poop poop poop. "I say poop" he shouts gleefully.

I'm hoping his sense of humor will continue to develop, moving on to slapstick or knock knock jokes or possibly even witty repartee. Still with males you never know. There seem to be plenty of grown men who have not moved past the 2 year old poop phase. In fact plenty of them have successful careers based on poop and fart jokes (See Mike Judge or Mike Meyers).

Potty Training is the New Breastfeeding

Last week I went to my local library's toddler story time. It was packed. Baby M and I were sitting on the floor happily singing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" when the woman sitting next to us, just inches away, pulled a little red potty chair out of her bag. She proceeded to pull off her daughter's panties, sit her on the potty and exclaim happily when she produced. Then the woman stood up, lifted the alarmingly full bowl of urine over my head and walked to the bathroom to dispose of it.

Now I know that potty training is difficult process and I understand not wanting to take your child to a public bathroom (although I've been in that library bathroom and it's exceptionally clean), but couldn't she have taken her daughter to the corner of the room? Or at least somewhere where she wouldn't have to navigate a room full of dancing toddlers while carrying a bowl full of pee? Yes, it was probably preferable to a puddle of pee on the floor, but I would have voted for moving away from the crowd, even if it involved a bit of fussing from my kid.

I mentioned this incident to a friend and she laughed and said, "I guess potty training is the new breastfeeding." She has a point. Some of us (including myself) nursed our children whenever they were hungry, wherever we were. I nursed in libraries, restaurants, even on the Wild Animal Park Safari Train without apologies. I was discrete, but I certainly didn't run off to the bathroom or cover myself with a tablecloth when it was time to nurse. Maybe with potty training you just have to whip out the potty when your kid needs it, no matter where you are. Of course what do I know? I've been sitting Baby M on the potty for 2 months now before his bath and when he asks to go (well the one time he asked to go), and we haven't seen a drop in that potty yet.

Sesame Street Coupons

Baby M loves Sesame Street. If we are at home a request to watch Sesame Street will come up, oh every 5 minutes or so. Sometimes it's cheerful, "I watch Sesame Street now? [big grin]" Sometimes it's polite, "Sesame Street...please." But inevitably it becomes whiny and devolves into a full on, head banging, legs flailing, Sesame Street deprivation tantrum. And if we attempt to leave the house, even to go to the park, he immediately begins screaming "Take me back home". What does he want to do at home? Watch Sesame Street. It's not like he doesn't get a good daily dose of Elmo. He gets to watch 30 minutes of Sesame Street after breakfast and 30 minutes again when he wakes up from his nap. Which is plenty, especially considering that the daily recommended amount of television for a not quite 2 year old is zero minutes.

As a solution to the constant tantrums my husband suggested that I make coupons for Baby M to redeem for TV time. When the coupons are gone, the TV stays off. It sounded good. I made up some coupons by cutting out pictures of Big Bird and Elmo and pasting them on index cards. Baby M was very excited about his coupons and by Noon he had cashed them both in. That afternoon, after his nap, he wanted to watch Sesame Street. I explained to him that he had no more coupons left. He grabbed my hand, walked me over to the shelf I had placed his redeemed coupons on says "They're right there, Mommy." Then he proceeded to have a tantrum to get the coupons followed by a tantrum because his eyes were wet from the first tantrum. I think perhaps the terrible twos have arrived a month early.

No Running!

This past weekend we went to a wedding. Baby M was invited and attended in a nice white shirt and some very nice $60 black shoes (where oh where did he get these extra wide feet that only fit in Stride Rite shoes?). After the ceremony and before the reception really got started we were in the ballroom and Baby M was running around like a maniac on the empty dance floor. Add a welding mask and some leg warmers and he'd have been ready for his Flashdance audition. Two little girls came into the room and immediately joined Baby M in all his hyperactive glory. It was cute. The three of them, dressed liked little aristocrats running around like little hooligans. Then the girls mother walks in and says "Girls, no running."

This immediately made me wonder, should Baby M not be running? Am I being a bad parent? We all know it doesn't take much to make me question my parenting. I went through my checklist:

1. Is Baby M endangering himself? No.
2. Is Baby M endangering someone else? Nope.
3. Is Baby M unduly disrupting other people? I looked around the half-empty room. The bride and groom would be taking pictures for at least another 20 minutes and in this pre-intoxicated state no one was getting near the dance floor. In fact, I would argue that the toddlers were pretty good entertainment for the bored couples sitting around the edge of the room.
   

So I said nothing and I let Baby M keep running. I did feel bad for the two little girls who stood despondently by their mother as Baby M ran in circles until he collapsed, happily announcing "I fell down". I'm sure his squeals of delight sounded like taunting to them-- "Neh neh neh neh I get to run." I wondered if I should hold Baby M back for their benefit.

What do you do when your standards of behavior are different from another parent's? Should the stricter parent's standards automatically be adopted? Obviously when you are in someone's home you follow their rules, but what about at a park? or at a wedding? I'm sure the parents with more draconian standards think they have the higher ground, but I'm not so sure. Isn't joyful exuberance one of things we remember fondly from childhood? Is a little noise so bad? Perhaps I am that mom. The one that all the other moms talk about behind her back, the one that they secretly want to give a copy of Dare to Discipline. Or maybe I'm the mom whose kid isn't afraid to express himself, who lives joyfully, who doesn't worry about what others think and who sucks all the marrow out of life. I'd be pretty happy If I'm that mom. But I can't say with any confidence that I'm either of those moms. More likely, I'm just a mom, taking it day by day, trying to do the best I can.

The Food Thing

I openly admit that I am not the healthiest of eaters, but I am hardly the unhealthiest. I buy mostly organic, try to avoid processed foods, rarely have cookies or candy around and am attempting to cook using more whole foods. But, yes, I am still a fan of the Trader Joe's frozen aisle, canned tomatoes and Goldfish Crackers, which brings us to today's topic: friends and food.

The other day I was in the park having lunch with some friends and their children. Baby M was happily munching on his turkey sandwich, melon balls and Goldfish Crackers when I heard my friend say sharply to her daughter, "Where did you get that?" I turned and saw a look of horror on her face and a small orange crakcer, courtesy of Baby M, in her daughter's hand. Thinking the look was of the "oh-my-god-you're-eating-something-off-the-ground" variety I said, "Oh, that's one of Baby M's, she's welcome to have some crackers." Then she looked at me and I realized the look was more of the "what-kind-of-parent-would-serve-this-junk-to-their-child" sort. She gingerly took the cracker away from her child and, using 2 fingers as if the cracker was possibly toxic, handed it back to me saying "No, that's okay."

Now I understand that parents have the right, and responsibility to teach their children about nutrition. And I absolutely sympathize with the parents of children with food allergies and how vigilant they must be about what their child eats. But isn't it just a little rude to imply that I am poisoning my child with a few refined grains? I felt so belittled that I went home and found this article by a dietitian defending Goldfish Crackers. (not that I sent it to her) When we are out and other people are graciously sharing their food I always say thank you and let Baby M have some. One oreo, one potato chip, even one of those weird fruit-like rollup thingys is not going to sicken him. In fact, hopefully, it will help him become an adventurous eater who knows the value of moderation. After all, who wants to live in a world without chocolate, ice cream and Goldfish Crackers?

Hide & Seek

Baby M's new favorite game is Hide & Seek. I am still not sure where he learned it. My best guess is that he picked it up from Sesame Street, you know the one where Rosita gets angry with Zoe for not not playing Hide & Seek correctly and then Cuba Gooding Jr. gets angry with the word angry for wandering off.

Anyway, one afternoon Baby M said to me "Mommy. Hide & seek." I gamely said, "Ok, go count in the kitchen," which to my amazement he did. He counted all the way to 10, pretty impressive for a not quite 2 year old, if I do say so myself. I quickly ran and hid behind the door of his bedroom. Baby M started wandering through the house singing "Maa-meee, Maa-meee." When he finally found me he gave me the biggest grin ever and gleefully shouted "Hide again, Mommy!"

We played a few times. Actually, more than a few times. I would be tempted to say one too many times. Each time he would begin by looking in my previous hiding places. He would check behind the door or in the bathtub and announce, "No Mommy here" and "Not in bathtub" as if going through a little checklist. I love this new game playing phase of Baby M's and am looking forward to afternoons filled with hours of Hide & Seek, Tag and Red Light Green Light. Hours and hours and hours. Hmmm. Well, I am mostly looking forward to it.

Discipline

An acquaintance of mine started putting her daughter in time-outs at 9 months old. I never said anything, but I wondered (a) what could a 9 month old possibly do to earn a time out and (b) did this woman really think she was teaching her child anything useful by parking her in a pack n play for 2 minutes? I know many people swear by time-outs, but I've always felt vaguely uneasy with the concept. Taking a time-out from playing with peers is one thing, but isolating a young child from a parent especially when she is agitated and may not fully understand what she's done to upset that parent just seems cruel. So when a friend mentioned that Alfie Kohn's book, Unconditional Parenting: Moving from Rewards and Punishments to Love and Reason, had some good alternatives to time-outs I decided to check it out of the library.

I really enjoyed the book. The first half catalogs how and why many popular discipline methods fail-- corporeal punishment, time-outs, reward charts and praise. Basically Kohn says that although such techniques may produce obedience in children, they do not help children to become kind, moral, confident or good problem solvers. Additionally such actions may end up eroding our relationships with our children. As he points out, "When you don't explain [why hitting is wrong] the default reason not to hit is that you'll be punished." And even if you do explain to your child why hitting is wrong in addition to punishing him, he is more likely to focus on the consequence to himself as opposed to how he may have hurt someone else. Praise and rewards for good behavior are essentially the other side of the same coin. Behaving well becomes all about self-interest instead of being a good citizen for the sake of others. The book is extensively footnoted and Kohn backs up most of his statements with research studies. Initially I thought his characterization of time-outs as "love withdrawal" was a bit extreme, but by the end of this section of the book he had convinced me that we should try to avoid these popular techniques, or at the very least not use them as our default form of discipline.

The second half of the book discusses what to do instead of time-outs, reward charts, etc. Kohn says we should listen to our children's explanations, give them reasons, give them choices, make compliance a game and, when necessary, exert parental authority with as much kindness and patience as possible. Here I would have really liked some more concrete examples. He did provide a few examples of how to deal with apologies, inappropriate TV shows and a really lovely anecdote about dealing with a child who was potentially going to clobber someone with a rock, but I still feel like more concrete examples would have been helpful. Of course the very nature of this type of discipline is that it is specific to the child and parent involved, so what may be effective and appropriate for one family may not work for another. For me, one of the most useful messages of the book is that we should remember our goals as parents center around teaching our children to be compassionate, thoughtful, confident people. I don't want my child to be the type of person who unquestioningly obeys the most powerful person around, whether that person is me as a parent, the queen bee in high school or an unethical boss at work.

But getting back to practical matters, I'm lucky that Baby M is a pretty good kid and I really don't have too many discipline problems. Other than some bedtime issues and food throwing we are in good shape. Luckily, I have a pretty high tolerance for mess and dog that eats everything. Seriously, how does anyone raise a toddler without a dog around to lick up the mess?