Your average travelers stay in hotels on vacation, but when my family visits my grandmother, we check into a retirement home rather than the local Holiday Inn. My grandmother lives in a small apartment in a retirement community, so instead of cramming a family of four into her den, she puts us up in the building's guest suite, which is available to visiting friends and family.
Staying in a retirement home is amusing - the bulletin board outside the dining room posted used scooters for sale, Bridge sign-ups and a notice about the refurbishing the shuffle board courts - but the situation has its perks. We don't have to cook or even go out to eat since we can join my grandmother for meals in the dining room. But the first seating for dinner is at 4:30 p.m. And meal times are big there and folks like to show up early to guarantee a good table. I shouldn't poke fun since the early dinner hour actually works well for Oliver and Soren, so we eagerly arrived early for dinner too.
If you bring little kids to a retirement home, I learned you need to accept that it takes longer to go anywhere in the building since every little old lady (and man too) will stop to talk to your children. But they always say how cute and well-behaved they are, even if they had just screamed their way through dinner. So when a crowd of old folks stopped me to admire Soren after dinner one evening, I unbuckled him from his stroller, put him on the floor and let him crawl around and show off his cuteness. He was the highlight of the evening and by extension, my grandmother got extra attention too.
Chris is a good sport about our overnight stays at my grandmother's retirement home. And a good thing, because once after an evening of my grandmother's story-telling, he commented how he'd gotten a glimpse of his wife in 60 years. Yup, just like my grandmother, I'll be talking too loudly about my fellow residents, because "they're old and can't hear anyway," spending my evenings at the puzzle table and zipping by the scooter riders as they jokingly holler to me to slow down, to my annoyance.
Kiera, Matteo, Oliver and Soren
Friday, August 31, 2012
Saturday, August 18, 2012
Boys Have Penises and Girls Have Vulvas
Only among my friends, it seems, will a parenting discussion lead to the question of whether we should teach our kids the word vulva or vagina for the female genitalia. All of us are on the same page in believing that it's important to use anatomically-correct terms for body parts, yet the vagina vs. vulva debate continues to throw us. Do we get over our irrational uneasiness with the word "vulva" and teach them the truly anatomically-correct word, or do we go with the universally-accepted "vagina"?
Only two people in the group had discussed with their husbands whether they should teach vulva instead of vagina. One of the husbands said he just couldn't say it, so his wife has reluctantly gone with vagina. The other friend's husband is comfortable with the term, and it's actually my friend, who, even though she had broached the subject with him, thought the word sounded "dirty". In an attempt to normalize the word on behalf of her daughter, she decided that if she just kept using vulva, it would eventually sounded normal to her too. As the mom of sons, I have the opportunity to say the word penis a lot, and I'll admit that's taking practice to say with the same neutral tone as I would say of any other body part.
As for the rest of us, most have gone with vagina. If the adults in my house can't say vulva without turning red, vagina is the next best option for the time-being.
Although our discomfort over one simple, perfectly-acceptable word surprised us, I applaud my friends and myself for even being that honest with our kids. I've already heard a lot of ridiculous names for the genitalia. On the cusp of three years old, our kids are already questioning what body parts are called or why some people have certain ones and others don't. This is just the beginning of some really uncomfortable questions. So I say, whether you opt for the word vulva or vagina, pick on and move on.
Only two people in the group had discussed with their husbands whether they should teach vulva instead of vagina. One of the husbands said he just couldn't say it, so his wife has reluctantly gone with vagina. The other friend's husband is comfortable with the term, and it's actually my friend, who, even though she had broached the subject with him, thought the word sounded "dirty". In an attempt to normalize the word on behalf of her daughter, she decided that if she just kept using vulva, it would eventually sounded normal to her too. As the mom of sons, I have the opportunity to say the word penis a lot, and I'll admit that's taking practice to say with the same neutral tone as I would say of any other body part.
As for the rest of us, most have gone with vagina. If the adults in my house can't say vulva without turning red, vagina is the next best option for the time-being.
Although our discomfort over one simple, perfectly-acceptable word surprised us, I applaud my friends and myself for even being that honest with our kids. I've already heard a lot of ridiculous names for the genitalia. On the cusp of three years old, our kids are already questioning what body parts are called or why some people have certain ones and others don't. This is just the beginning of some really uncomfortable questions. So I say, whether you opt for the word vulva or vagina, pick on and move on.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Another Milestone - Gone with the Pacifier
After a week and a half, I feel comfortable saying that Oliver no longer uses a pacifier. For a few months now he's gone without one at nap time and nighttime sleep was the only time he was allowed to use it. But Chris and I just didn't have the energy to pull the plug for good. Until relatively recently, Soren was getting up really early and imagining Oliver crying for hours at night and then at the other end of the night having Soren rise at 5:00 a.m. made me want to cry too.
I actually considered hiring a babysitter for a couple nights in a row to cover bedtime based on the strategy that kids listen to everyone else better than their parents. Our nanny decided one day that Oliver didn't need his pacifier at nap and he obliged with very few tears. However, for three straight weekends, Oliver screamed and threw himself about refused to nap without his pacifier. The reason Chris and I were able to resist giving in and allowing him to have his pacifier so we could all enjoy peace and quiet is because we knew based on the nanny's success with the no pacifier rule that Oliver was clearly engaging in a hard-fought power struggle. He didn't need the pacifier. But again, it was a nighttime power struggle I wasn't ready yet to subject myself to.
Then it occurred to me that ever since our family has settled into a more manageable schedule and I'd been getting a little more sleep, that there wasn't going to be a better time to take away the pacifier for good. At dinner that night I explained to Oliver that he wasn't going to get his pacifier at bedtime, but that he'd have his brown bear to snuggle with. Oliver barely batted an eye at the news. An hour later we got ready for bed and he asked for his pacifier as usual, but I reminded him of our discussion at dinner and that he had his stuffed animals. I distracted him with picking out a bedtime story and when we were finished, I kissed him goodnight, turned out the light and closed the door. I waited outside for him to get out of bed and start crying for his pacifier, but his room stayed quiet.
Sometimes parenting cuts you a break. Giving up the pacifier can be a battle between many parents and their toddlers, but for whatever reason, Oliver was not going to make this one of them.
I actually considered hiring a babysitter for a couple nights in a row to cover bedtime based on the strategy that kids listen to everyone else better than their parents. Our nanny decided one day that Oliver didn't need his pacifier at nap and he obliged with very few tears. However, for three straight weekends, Oliver screamed and threw himself about refused to nap without his pacifier. The reason Chris and I were able to resist giving in and allowing him to have his pacifier so we could all enjoy peace and quiet is because we knew based on the nanny's success with the no pacifier rule that Oliver was clearly engaging in a hard-fought power struggle. He didn't need the pacifier. But again, it was a nighttime power struggle I wasn't ready yet to subject myself to.
Then it occurred to me that ever since our family has settled into a more manageable schedule and I'd been getting a little more sleep, that there wasn't going to be a better time to take away the pacifier for good. At dinner that night I explained to Oliver that he wasn't going to get his pacifier at bedtime, but that he'd have his brown bear to snuggle with. Oliver barely batted an eye at the news. An hour later we got ready for bed and he asked for his pacifier as usual, but I reminded him of our discussion at dinner and that he had his stuffed animals. I distracted him with picking out a bedtime story and when we were finished, I kissed him goodnight, turned out the light and closed the door. I waited outside for him to get out of bed and start crying for his pacifier, but his room stayed quiet.
Sometimes parenting cuts you a break. Giving up the pacifier can be a battle between many parents and their toddlers, but for whatever reason, Oliver was not going to make this one of them.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Soren Update: 10 Months
In less than a month Soren has turned into a confident crawler. I enjoy watching him as something across the room catches his attention, like an open cabinet door or my purse, and he makes an excited beeline on his hands and knees and yelling "Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" I don't know what it is about my purse, because surely the novelty should have worn off by now, but he loves digging through it. He has the same look of concentration on him that I remember from Oliver when he was engrossed in something new and exciting, even if it was just ripping all the cards out of my wallet.
Every afternoon when Chris arrives home, Soren hears him come through the backdoor and he starts his slow, but methodical crawl towards his dad to greet him. Chris says it's funny to listen to Soren make his approach, because before he can spot him, he hears the slow tap of little hands and knees against the hardwood floors as Soren makes his way through the dining room and to the back door.
Soren likes to follow me around, but even though he's gotten a lot faster, he gets frustrated because I buzz around the house, and he can't keep up with me. And to me, it's like having a dog underfoot. I'll traipse back and forth between the dining room and the kitchen to clear the table after a meal and I need to keep one eye on the ground to keep track of Soren so I don't step on him!
Lately Soren's been making a beeline for stairs. Uh oh! We were outside one afternoon and Chris looked up and there he was up one step of the front stoop. He can now pull himself up on furniture, or whatever he can grab onto and doesn't tip over when he pulls on it. He crawls up to me and tries using my legs (or my skirt!) to pull himself up.
Soren still enjoys looking at books. I don't really make it through an entire book reading to him, but he likes to turn the pages.
Just like his older brother, Soren has developed a love for bananas. He isn't quite as demanding as Oliver was, but he still makes it known when he spots a banana that he wants a piece too. Unfortunately for Soren, the bananas remain a limited treat since he's prone to constipation, or "slow bowels" as the doctor diagnosed it. At his suggestion, we give Soren a bit of prune juice in his bottles and that seems to help.
Soren is finally on his way to someday being able to bite into a sweet Minnesota apple as we just discovered today his first tooth his broken the gum line! Seeing that he's getting his first tooth is exciting, but I'll admit I was a little sad because I'll miss his gummy smile.
I posted about not being so sure that I was really finished with breastfeeding, but I can finally say that phase in my life is over. I'd often been indifferent about breastfeeding, especially when I pumped for the first time after going back to work. Breastfeeding is touted as so inexpensive, but the reality of buying a pump, bottles and even formula to make up for what I couldn't pump, it wasn't exactly cost-free. But it's still cheaper, I discovered after Soren's first month on only formula. I was astounded when I realized that Soren goes through nearly three 40-ounce cans of formula a month. When he ws taking bottles of breast milk during the weekend and breastfeeding on the weekends, he couldn't make it through a can half that size before it expired.
We're in a good phase with sleep. We've achieved a well-established nap and bedtime schedule and the days of multiple naps and unpredictability feel like a long time ago. He's often down for his first nap by 7:30 a.m. or 7:45 a.m. and then goes down for his second nap with Oliver at noon. Bedtime is around 6:30 p.m., which then gives me time to put Oliver to bed by 7:00 p.m. He's relatively easy to put down - just a quick diaper change, a search for his pacifier and in his crib he goes. He really doesn't want to be sung to anymore, although with a bit of persistence, I've been able to get him to snuggle with me long enough for a quick song. He often gets up too early for our liking, to the point that a 6:30 a.m. wake-up is a good morning, but at least the super early mornings are more of an anomaly.
Every afternoon when Chris arrives home, Soren hears him come through the backdoor and he starts his slow, but methodical crawl towards his dad to greet him. Chris says it's funny to listen to Soren make his approach, because before he can spot him, he hears the slow tap of little hands and knees against the hardwood floors as Soren makes his way through the dining room and to the back door.
Soren likes to follow me around, but even though he's gotten a lot faster, he gets frustrated because I buzz around the house, and he can't keep up with me. And to me, it's like having a dog underfoot. I'll traipse back and forth between the dining room and the kitchen to clear the table after a meal and I need to keep one eye on the ground to keep track of Soren so I don't step on him!
Lately Soren's been making a beeline for stairs. Uh oh! We were outside one afternoon and Chris looked up and there he was up one step of the front stoop. He can now pull himself up on furniture, or whatever he can grab onto and doesn't tip over when he pulls on it. He crawls up to me and tries using my legs (or my skirt!) to pull himself up.
Soren still enjoys looking at books. I don't really make it through an entire book reading to him, but he likes to turn the pages.
Just like his older brother, Soren has developed a love for bananas. He isn't quite as demanding as Oliver was, but he still makes it known when he spots a banana that he wants a piece too. Unfortunately for Soren, the bananas remain a limited treat since he's prone to constipation, or "slow bowels" as the doctor diagnosed it. At his suggestion, we give Soren a bit of prune juice in his bottles and that seems to help.
Soren is finally on his way to someday being able to bite into a sweet Minnesota apple as we just discovered today his first tooth his broken the gum line! Seeing that he's getting his first tooth is exciting, but I'll admit I was a little sad because I'll miss his gummy smile.
I posted about not being so sure that I was really finished with breastfeeding, but I can finally say that phase in my life is over. I'd often been indifferent about breastfeeding, especially when I pumped for the first time after going back to work. Breastfeeding is touted as so inexpensive, but the reality of buying a pump, bottles and even formula to make up for what I couldn't pump, it wasn't exactly cost-free. But it's still cheaper, I discovered after Soren's first month on only formula. I was astounded when I realized that Soren goes through nearly three 40-ounce cans of formula a month. When he ws taking bottles of breast milk during the weekend and breastfeeding on the weekends, he couldn't make it through a can half that size before it expired.
We're in a good phase with sleep. We've achieved a well-established nap and bedtime schedule and the days of multiple naps and unpredictability feel like a long time ago. He's often down for his first nap by 7:30 a.m. or 7:45 a.m. and then goes down for his second nap with Oliver at noon. Bedtime is around 6:30 p.m., which then gives me time to put Oliver to bed by 7:00 p.m. He's relatively easy to put down - just a quick diaper change, a search for his pacifier and in his crib he goes. He really doesn't want to be sung to anymore, although with a bit of persistence, I've been able to get him to snuggle with me long enough for a quick song. He often gets up too early for our liking, to the point that a 6:30 a.m. wake-up is a good morning, but at least the super early mornings are more of an anomaly.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Cabin Weekend
The cabin has been somewhat of a point of contention between Chris and me since Oliver was born. Chris grew up going to the cabin and that piece of lakeside property with the house his dad built by himself rightly holds a special place in his heart. He learned to water ski on the lake, hunted deer on the surrounding land every November and raced turtles in Longville, "The Turtle Race Capital of the World."
Chris's parents have always been gracious about letting friends and family use the cabin and Chris and I spent a lot of weekends up there before the kids were born. He invited his friends, I mine. I learned to play Cribbage up there and enjoyed sunbathing on the dock, doing Sudokus or whiling the afternoon away talking with friends. We'd cook a feast in the evening that sometimes wouldn't get eaten until the sun was beginning to set.
The summer after Oliver was born, we made the first trip to cabin with our new family of three...and a number of Chris's friends. Even though I felt that a small cabin full of boisterous adults was not hospitable to a baby on a frequent nap schedule, I will say that Chris's friends were great. They always remembered to close the screen door gently instead of letting it slam and they stayed quiet during nap time and took their evening card games outside. They showed genuine interest in Oliver and never seemed annoyed that cabin weekends had to operate a little differently with a little one among the group.
But I never felt like I was having any fun. Chris went out water skiing and stayed up late with his friends and slept in and I felt like I was on 24/7 kid duty. Being tied to Oliver's early-rising schedule, I'd often have eaten lunch before some of the guys even rose from bed for the day. Maybe it'd have been different if my friends had come up, but the invite list always filled up before I had a chance to invite anyone.
I often felt lonely and resentful. The cabin was supposed to be a place to relax and spend time with friends and family and to me it quickly started to signify work. Work to pack up myself and Oliver, work to clean up after everyone all weekend, and work to clean the cabin before heading home.
When the first opportunity this summer came to go to the cabin, I finally refused to go. I think Chris felt guilty leaving me with the kids, so he offered to take Oliver. Good decision because once Chris was the one solely responsible for a kid at the cabin, he realized how much work it was. He had to go to bed early because Oliver was up by 6:30 a.m. and then try to keep him entertained and quiet for hours until his friends stumbled out of bed shortly before lunchtime. It was unfortunate that there was an infestation of caterpillars, because that clearly didn't go over well with Oliver, but he was also afraid of riding in the boat when they revved the engine for water skiing, so Chris barely got any time on the water. He came home and declared he'd never bring Oliver to the cabin by himself again and that pretty much put an end to wanting to organize a weekend at the cabin with family and friends at the same time.
I only agreed to go last weekend when I heard it would just be Chris's parents. It turned out to be a fabulous weekend and I rediscovered the fun in going to the cabin. And that was all despite a rather tedious drive up there. Except for a 20-minute period when the kids napped, one or both were crying at some point the rest of the trip. Three stops, including one at a playground in Royalton, MN and about four and a half hours later, we made it to the cabin. But once we were there, we had the grandparents on hand to help with the kids and they had a blast. I in turn had free time to go for walks, cook the dinners I never have time for during the work week, and as a bonus, some baking - two loaves of zucchini bread and a birthday cake for Grandma. I got pampered as well in that Chris's mom likes doing dishes.
Someday it'll be easier to mix family and friends at the cabin. Maybe when the kids are older and are more self-reliant and aren't napping anymore. And just maybe by then, Chris's friends will have kids of their own and it'll be they who will remind us not to slam the door on the way down to the lake.
Chris's parents have always been gracious about letting friends and family use the cabin and Chris and I spent a lot of weekends up there before the kids were born. He invited his friends, I mine. I learned to play Cribbage up there and enjoyed sunbathing on the dock, doing Sudokus or whiling the afternoon away talking with friends. We'd cook a feast in the evening that sometimes wouldn't get eaten until the sun was beginning to set.
The summer after Oliver was born, we made the first trip to cabin with our new family of three...and a number of Chris's friends. Even though I felt that a small cabin full of boisterous adults was not hospitable to a baby on a frequent nap schedule, I will say that Chris's friends were great. They always remembered to close the screen door gently instead of letting it slam and they stayed quiet during nap time and took their evening card games outside. They showed genuine interest in Oliver and never seemed annoyed that cabin weekends had to operate a little differently with a little one among the group.
But I never felt like I was having any fun. Chris went out water skiing and stayed up late with his friends and slept in and I felt like I was on 24/7 kid duty. Being tied to Oliver's early-rising schedule, I'd often have eaten lunch before some of the guys even rose from bed for the day. Maybe it'd have been different if my friends had come up, but the invite list always filled up before I had a chance to invite anyone.
I often felt lonely and resentful. The cabin was supposed to be a place to relax and spend time with friends and family and to me it quickly started to signify work. Work to pack up myself and Oliver, work to clean up after everyone all weekend, and work to clean the cabin before heading home.
When the first opportunity this summer came to go to the cabin, I finally refused to go. I think Chris felt guilty leaving me with the kids, so he offered to take Oliver. Good decision because once Chris was the one solely responsible for a kid at the cabin, he realized how much work it was. He had to go to bed early because Oliver was up by 6:30 a.m. and then try to keep him entertained and quiet for hours until his friends stumbled out of bed shortly before lunchtime. It was unfortunate that there was an infestation of caterpillars, because that clearly didn't go over well with Oliver, but he was also afraid of riding in the boat when they revved the engine for water skiing, so Chris barely got any time on the water. He came home and declared he'd never bring Oliver to the cabin by himself again and that pretty much put an end to wanting to organize a weekend at the cabin with family and friends at the same time.
I only agreed to go last weekend when I heard it would just be Chris's parents. It turned out to be a fabulous weekend and I rediscovered the fun in going to the cabin. And that was all despite a rather tedious drive up there. Except for a 20-minute period when the kids napped, one or both were crying at some point the rest of the trip. Three stops, including one at a playground in Royalton, MN and about four and a half hours later, we made it to the cabin. But once we were there, we had the grandparents on hand to help with the kids and they had a blast. I in turn had free time to go for walks, cook the dinners I never have time for during the work week, and as a bonus, some baking - two loaves of zucchini bread and a birthday cake for Grandma. I got pampered as well in that Chris's mom likes doing dishes.
Someday it'll be easier to mix family and friends at the cabin. Maybe when the kids are older and are more self-reliant and aren't napping anymore. And just maybe by then, Chris's friends will have kids of their own and it'll be they who will remind us not to slam the door on the way down to the lake.
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