marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
Sometimes - most of the time - it's lovely that my son sees me as the prime mover of his universe.  Other times - today particularly - it's not so lovely. 

I really am not the reason your stomach has an owie, sweetie, and I actually do have to pee occasionally, and it is genuinely not my fault that there was no choo-choo on the way to school today.  And smacking me upside the head or clinging to my legs while emitting piercing sounds of woe won't change any of those things.
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
...when we take Charlie for an assessment in May

1. Can you really say that a child has poor fine-motor skills if he's able to take his mother's earbuds and plug them into a wall socket without electrocuting himself?

2. When he has a tantrum at day care in which he pulls off his diaper and pees on his pants, is this his way of signalling readiness to potty-train?

3. Since the "drowsy" class of anti-allergy drugs make him psycho, how will he be affected by the "psycho" class of anti-allergy drugs (particularly singulair)?  Will they cause him to enter a state of zenlike calm, or will he be exponentially psycho? 

4. How do you give a time-out to a kid who weighs 39 pounds and doesn't effing want to sit on your stupid effing stool, mommy raaargh raaargh raaargh 

5. Why does he screech and complain when I put a wee bit of vaseline on his rashy face, but if left alone with the container will proceed to coat his entire person in squishy petrolium by-product, particularly HIS HAIR OH COME ON WHY ALWAYS THE HAIR? 

6. Why are binkies so much more awesome than chewy tubes? Because chewy tubes are apparently utter ass, and will be thrown across the room at every opportunity.

7. When he is strung out on allergy medicines, he tries to angrily bite me during tantrums. When he is medicine-free and therefore mild-mannered and mostly tantrumless, he playfully tries to bite me in a friendly way.  What is up with that? Does he think he's a puppy?

8. When I remove myself from the hitting zone during a tantrum, I go behind a door and hold it mostly-closed with my foot while he reaches his hand through the opening, claws at the air, tries to push the door open, and makes ragey noises of biting while he tries to bite the door. Considering his speech delay, how difficult would it be to teach him to say "brrraaaainnns!" during these tantrums?
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (Default)
Charlie is in the stage of toddlerhood where he likes to make choices. Letting him pick between two shirts, two foods, two choo-choo videos, generally produces a calm, compliant little boy.

Generally. Unfortunately he occasionally twigs to the fact that there is a third choice not being offered. This morning our usual offer of "regular diaper or big-boy diaper [pull-up]" did not fly, because his choice was "NO di!!! No di, no di, aaaaiiieeeee!!! (Bite, hit hit)" Also he did not approve of having anti-itch gel put on his nethers, despite clearly needing it as evidenced by the diaper aversion. Instead, his plan was to sit butt-naked on Mommy's lap and drink his milk (after Mommy was dressed in her work clothes), without letting Mommy put a towel or anything under him. Mommy vetoed this plan.

Despite this, I did get to work on time this morning, with no lasting bite marks.
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (charlie-washcloth)
I have a big red scratch right in the middle of my upper chest, that shows I have been a BAD MOMMY.  

What did I do wrong?  Well, I failed to prevent Charlie from 1. cutting molars 2. having a sore throat 3. being constipated 4. having a fever. Clearly these things are MY FAULT so I must be not only punished but BRANDED.  At least, I assume that is why he spent 10 minutes alternately hugging me and scratching the shit out of me.  

Poor little lamb is sleeping now, thank goodness. *goes to pet sleeping Charlie*
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (binky)
Charlie is on target with most cognitive development as far as playing goes.  Putting stuff in his mouth, or touching it to his short arm (he seems to have some handlike nerves there),  pushing cars around, pushing buttons, hugging plushies, etc--all good.  But I noticed recently that he had never successfully played with: 1. stacking cups 2. a shape sorter 3. any toy where you drop something in a container 4. blocks  (note: C is 18 months old). In fact, any play involving creating a physical connection between two objects was just not on his radar. I suspect having only one hand has something to do with it, since these things are in the category "two-handed play." (Luckily one of his honorary aunties is a cognitive psychologist, so she can probably tell me for sure.)

 Anyway recently he started showing an interest in putting one thing on top of another, and putting things into other things, so I dug out various rejected toys to give him another crack at them, and got a couple of new ones.  He figured out how to put the toy cd's in and out of the door of the toy cd player, and sat in his crib and did that for 30 minutes straight while I occasionally facilitated--his frustration tolerance is nil, and the cd player tended to scooch away from him. I showed him how to tuck it between his ankles to hold it and that worked well.  He also has started pushing two cars together in a little convoy, and doing some other 2-object relational play. Yay! Cognitive development!

So, I put stacking cups in the bath 2 days ago. Tonight he figured out how to nest them inside each other for the first time ever. And promptly LOST HIS FRICKEN MIND. He dragged 3 random cups with him from the bath, and after we got him in his jammies he realized they were not contiguous and threw an enormous freakout tantrum.  He kept crying and screaming, and couldn't be distracted--so upset that he was biting his hand (a new distress behavior that really needs to stop--he's got owies now). I went and got the rest of the cups, stacked them in order, and showed them to him, and he immediately calmed down, and took the cups.  Freaked out again when he dropped them and they came apart so I had to fix them for him again.  Eventually I got him to wave bye-bye to them and let go so he could have his bottle before bed, but he still didn't want me to take them out of the room.  THE CUPS! They speak to me IN MY MIND! THEY ARE MY FRIEND! But their delicate and beautiful group consciousness shall be destroyed if they are put out of order. AIIIEEEEEE!!  (He doesn't talk yet but I'm pretty sure that's what he would have said if he could.)

We finally wrassled him into bed and snuck the cups back into the tub.  I'm afraid the magic of interrelated objects has fried his little brain, poor lamb.

(Note that I was able to interpret his tantrum and retrieve the precious cups because my family is chock full of people who obsess over sets, completion, ordering of objects, etc.  I am used to children losing their shit over things like "my doll's shoes aren't really for her, they're from another doll!")
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (mama)
Charlie is somewhat on the mend, but still feels like crap today.  Although he's 18 months old, he's still mainly pre-verbal, and he also isn't good at pointing to things, so he has a hard time communicating what he does and doesn't want.  We opted not to teach him baby sign language because some of the signs require more hands than he's got, and all of them require more motor skills than he's got.  He, however, has cleverly developed his own signs to let me know what he's thinking.

1. Slapping my glasses off of my head, followed by a beaming smile:  "You're pretty, Mommy!"

2. Frowning and slapping my face, neck, chest, or whatever else is handy: "You suck, Mommy! No I will not take a nap! Fuck naps!" 

3. Biting my arm:  "What do you mean, 'no hitting???' Bring your face back in range so I can slap it some more!" 

4. Scratching my face, neck, chest, etc.  "Hey, I was playing with that toy, damn it! Also,  you suck!" 

5. Biting his own hand:  "Rarrrgh!!!  Hulk Angry!!!! Fuck your attempts to sooth me and the horsie they rode in on! Raaargh!!"

Thanks to the flu or whatever this is,* he has been getting a lot of practice with these signs today.  We're thinking he's got a headache on top of the rest of the troubles.  I was a little bit too delighted when putting him to bed just now, I confess.

*Doc listened to his lungs and decided to test him for RSV, Strep and a bunch of other stuff, and to give him an antibiotic to take until the results come back, just in case, since she heard a couple of "little things going on in there."  Yay doctor.

Punkaroo

Aug. 3rd, 2009 12:11 pm
marydell: My hand holding a medusa head sculpture (by me) that's missing its snakes (charlie-laugh)
"Trouper" has been replaced in our family lexicon with "punk."

When Charlie was an infant, we often would say "he's/you're being such a trouper!" because he had to put up with a whole lot in the way of needles, skin lotions and potions, medicines, nose-suckers, nebulizers, etc, as well as having a constant itchy rash for 4 months, and he generally was compliant and not very tearful about it, even when he was feeling crappy and being forced to keep his hand covered all day (to prevent scratching...eczema sucks).

Now his health is much better, so the number of skin products required daily is much lower, and putting them on is faster, and his rashes clear up quickly and don't cause too much discomfort.  Also we mostly only have to wipe his nose when he's sneezy, instead of sucking it out 4 times a day to prevent respiratory & ear infections.  Unfortunately he's also 13 months old so he's learned how to throw a proper hissy fit, complete with flailing and whacking his head into people, over anything that he doesn't enjoy or that prevents him from doing whatever he's fixated on at the moment.  In the process of trying to avoid having his nose wiped this morning he jerked his head backwards, hit me in the jaw, and totally rang my clock.

He's being such a punk!

:)

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