Never Quite Relaxed

It's been months since Brody's open heart surgery.

He's been given the all clear to go to every 6 month check ups.

Our incidences of fever and infection have only been in his ears and eyes (ugh, pink eye!) and a quick acting virus as are normal for small children.

He's recently caught up developmentally, too.  Until a few weeks ago, Brody was much like a very young infant rather than one closer to being a toddler.  He couldn't roll over, he couldn't sit unassisted (and still fell over rather quickly), he couldn't crawl...he couldn't do anything.  All milestones we had reached prior to his OHS were gone.  Then about 3 weeks ago he had an awakening.  He has learned to clap, wave, roll, sit unassisted, crawl, and pull to standing all in that short time.

But I don't feel safe.

I know that the complications other than infection were ones that would be months or years down the road.  Scar tissue could impair the electrical pathways obstructing the sync of his rhythms permanently.  He'd need a pacemaker.  The pericardial patch could get something wrong with it.  The means used to correct his TAPVR could show to be insufficient as he ages and his heart gets more of a workout.  
I will always worry about infection settling in his heart.

I am also worried about some feeding issues that have cropped up post-operatively--including a lot of vomiting.  I worry something was damaged.

I guess it's just normal to feel this way.  I am no longer ever going to naively take my children's health as a given.

We've had Sasha checked as well since he recently showed to have a murmur.  God help me, it scared the crap out of me to get that news again.  Thankfully, his murmur is like 90% of murmurs.  It's nothing more than a noise.  His heart works perfectly and is built exactly as it should be.

Sasha Pumpkin Head

Sasha has become such a big boy I can hardly believe it.

In the past few months he's lost 2 of his baby teeth and has two new loose teeth. He's getting that school kid jack-o-lantern grin with the mismatched big and small teeth with funny gaps. It's adorable.

Since he's being homeschooled (it's preschool, it barely counts) I've decided to spend time teaching him things he needs to know, doesn't, and should consider them life skills.

1.) Tying his shoes. He can actually do this one sometimes with prompting
2.) Bathing himself. I do most of it, and he does a part with direction.
3.) Teeth brushing. First I do it, then he does.
4.) General independance--like getting his own snacks or breakfast. I have placed lots of foods--healthy foods--in easy reach. He can get a banana, an apple, nuts, dried fruit, homemade granola, cheese, yogurt, or bentos of leftovers on the bottom shelves of the fridge or pantry.
5.) Chores.

He's a wonderful boy and is doing a very good job. He's very good at addition and subtraction and seems to really enjoy math. Writing is a bit more of a challenge, but he has recently discovered the concept of writing "notes". It's helpful in getting him to write, even if it's just his name with a drawing and a zillion stickers.

Truant

Life has taken me away from personal persuits on the internet. Perhaps I should have kept it up. Probably it would have been something of a therapy. But I pulled away instead.

Things started with me losing my job.

Then "Brody" was diagnosed with heart defects (atrial septal defects, valve stenosis, and cor triatriatum).

Then the dogs have gone downhill.

Now my father seems to be ill.

I don't hardly sleep anymore.

The job situation seems to be improving. Today I begin part time with a small company who knows my situation and is willing to work around my scheduling issues with "Brody" and his medical care. When all is expected to be finished, the plan is to hire me full time. This really is a mitzvah and I am so grateful for it.

We are working through the pre-surgical hoops with "Brody". This means a lot of appointments and calls to harrass the insurance into paying out what they are supposed to. I have called the cardiologist's office I don't even know how many times to fix things. The good news that, as of right now, they expect to be able to fix everything in a single surgery, be fine in a month, and never have any restrictions or issues again. The bad news is I have to have my baby go to open heart surgery for him to have a normal life.

The dogs--I feel like a callous witch when it comes to them. I can't find the room in my heart to care too much with everything else going on. They are just pets. One is old and has been sick from the day we got her. The other has injured herself beyond repair be being the same insane creature she has always been. I'm actually looking forward to the day I don't have to deal with their needs anymore. Vacations will be simple and less expensive. The daily routine freer. The house cleaner.

My father, well we're waiting to see what is up. I am praying that he is really fine and this is a false alarm.

As for Sasha, he has been well as always and a normal healthy preschooler who isn't going to preschool (we can't afford it). I've been doing his homeschooling and he has playdates so he's been pretty happy with the current state of affairs.

Normalizing

All has been going fairly well.

Brody has no issues. He nurses vigorously and easily. He sleeps through the night. There are no strange symptoms like hives or inconsolable screaming. It appears God deemed that my last pregnancy/birth/babyhood be a happy and pleasant one.

Sasha has adjusted and moved from apathy about his younger sibling to joy and love. Yes, the number of tantrums and such have gone back up, but that's to be expected. It's not been too bad.

Daycare may be making us broke (this one is like a mortgage payment per each child) but it appears to be worthwhile. They've made wonderful progress in Sasha's one true developmental issue--shyness. They've realized that letting him get comfortable first is the way to get him to perform in school. Apparently he's a joy, keeping up well, and even surpassing some of their expectations--notably in the social skills area. He's still not the biggest fan of going to school, but it doesn't result in daily tears and we aren't being told he has learning or developmental disorders. They think he's fine beyond being terribly shy and they seem to know how to deal with that well.

Brody has been there two weeks and we have had all my learned fears about infant care go away. He's not been neglected in any way. He's fed, cuddled, held, interacted with, and cleaned up regularly.

Red Chief

Admittedly, I am not enjoying my son lately. In fact, I find myself tempted to smack his mouth sometimes for the snarky backtalk that’s been coming out. Or his hand for the hitting he’s begun doing whenever he’s told to do something different than he wants. I am not enjoying this run up to the 4th birthday. Every year we go through a period of turd-ness that escalates as he approaches his birthday. We are full into it now. While he still can say amusing things and be sweet as sugar, those times are becoming less and less frequent. Even the small requests, like asking him to go potty when he wakes up in the morning, have resulted in battles with him. I don’t know what to do other than be consistent in our insistence on these small things. It’s not too much to ask of him to pee in the potty. To dress himself. To wear that which is clean (we do not dress from the dirty clothes hamper). To eat the dinner he is served. Not to hit. And to at least TRY to be respectful (telling Mommy she’s stinky and you don’t love her followed by cramming your finger in her eyeball is NOT trying). These are all things he’s shown he’s well capable of. Here’s hoping the Wild & Wonderful of 4 is better. I’m not enjoying the Enemy half of Friend or Enemy.

Okay, So I Didn't Think It Was a Real Thing...

Okay, so I was feeling better about Sasha and his development.

Then I found out that “clumsy child syndrome” (AKA developmental dyspraxia or developmental coordination disorder) is a real thing. Because, you see, I was diagnosed with it as a little girl. My parents have always told me I had it, but I thought it was their way of making me feel better about being a complete spaz. And apparently it can be inherited.

Sasha has a lot of the same problems I did. Falling frequently and crashing into things for no reason. Trouble with the process of writing. I couldn’t work a bike till I was about 8 and he can’t. I did however end up okay. I am still an accident prone klutz, but I did become able to do everything I wanted to. It was probably a very light case, as his seems to be since it just seems to be the little things. He’ll eventually catch up, I’ve no doubt, and he’ll be fine.

I think this will just be something to bring up to his pediatrician at his 4 yo check up in a few months.

Not A Tempest

Sasha has gotten “into” name-calling.
At first it was kind of cute and funny. I do not take umbrage when my son calls me ‘a ketchup’ or ‘a chair’. I would simply call him a mustard or a sofa in return.
Now, he’s gotten into actual name-calling. Last night he called me an underpants-face.
Then he had to think about it in time out.
**
I’ve been trying to get more difficult reading material for him.
His reading skills by way of phonics are wonderful. However his vocabulary isn’t much more than you would expect from a preschooler or kindergartener. So while he can pronounce the words that are written, he has no clue what a large portion of it means. So, I endeavored to find some books he would:
a) Find interesting
b) Be able to understand (with occasional help)
c) And would be short enough or be able to be broken up into separate readings so he could work through it.
I went to Prospero’s in hopes of finding the Enchanted Isle of Yew, a book I was sure would fit (Baum has a way of writing that is ideal for him). But alas, they didn’t have it. They only had the Oz stories and someone had just left with the Adventures of Santa Claus.
I went to a box store, and of course, they only had The Wizard of Oz. However, they did have something called The Big Book of Adventure. Classics greatly shortened and simplified with full-page color illustrations. Really a good format for him and with wonderful selections. Last night we tried Ivanhoe.
I was the one who got frustrated.
Sasha spent the entire time reading ahead and asking questions about parts I hadn’t gotten to yet. About characters who weren’t even introduced till the next page and whether they were good or bad or whatnot. I asked him if he wanted to finish the story himself.
He said yes.
I was grateful. I need to learn patience.

We Got Complascent

Sasha has become very interested in what it means to “be a man.”
He studies men like his Dad, uncles, and Papa and has come to a few different conclusions.
1. Men don’t color their hair. Girls do that.
2. Men don’t wear dresses or pink.
3. Men wear belts.
And so he has become obsessed with the idea that he must wear a belt at all times. He’s become so taken with the idea it took a long talk with his father so that he would feel okay with not wearing a belt in the tub or to bed. He still wears a belt with his sweatpants, though, and that’s just not a battle that I feel is important to wage.
>>>
It’s become evident that Sasha can read.
We’ve suspected it a long time. Years, actually. Every so often he’d come out with something that pointed to that idea. Nevertheless, we convinced ourselves it was something else: memory, trademark recognition, something.
And, because of this, we continued to watch TV in front of him that was not that appropriate. We decided turning on the closed captioning and muting the TV would be enough. He’d be protected from language and inappropriate conversation topics and we could enjoy our shows.
I am a terrible Mommy.
Recently I was watching another muted movie. Suddenly, he reads off the cc exactly and then asks, “Mommy, why is that man calling his friend a girl dog? I don’t understand. He’s not a dog at all. Is he trying to be silly?” (yes, he knows that word but only in the context of canine description). Then he asked a bunch of other questions about things that had happened earlier in the movie and words he didn’t know at all…like chapatti (after I told him it was a kind of food, his natural follow ups were would he like it and why didn’t I ever make it). That did it for me. The kid can read and read fast enough to keep up with the cc. Not only that, but we had to sit down and have a talk about bad words (a new concept for him) and things that were not nice to talk about.
I am pleased to know his teachers are full of doody now when they report he doesn’t know any of his letters and is behind. If he can read, I have nothing to worry about.
On the other hand, there go The Office and Big Bang Theory.

No Bunnies for The Cave

It’s a milestone. Sasha has given up his Taggie.
He did it by himself, so I’ve no doubt he’s ready and we’re pretty much done with that phase. All we did, was start limiting his use slightly last summer. Now all he does is occasionally ask where they are, we answer they are in the drawer under his bed. Then he’s fine and happy just to know they are there but he doesn’t need to have it.
**
Sasha has decided to teach himself how to tie his shoes.
Considering he’s determined to figure it out himself, he does a pretty good job.
Every eyelet has a lace through it. The shoes are on the right feet. The laces are tied securely (really, really securely).
I think this is great. The basic idea is there, even if his shoes don’t look ‘right’ according to us grown ups. He knows there’s a problem with his method, since he can’t get them off afterwards. But when I ask if he wants to know the way I tie shoes, he just thinks a moment and answers “no, thank you.”
So I spend 10 minutes undoing his rather exotic knot structure every evening. But that’s okay.
**
I have come to the conclusion that Sasha’s school isn’t really ideal for him, while still believing it’s the best we can do.
It has helped him greatly with the process of growing up. He’s happy. He’s healthy. And I don’t worry about him while he’s there. In that sense, it is a good school
It’s their use of gender roles combined with their teaching methods that make the school not perfect. They offer different things to boys and girls without acknowledging that people don’t all fit in neat little boxes. And they become impatient when children do not fit their neat little molds. And can be a bit…catty (to parents) as a result.
And I know my son doesn’t fit their mold.
I’m thinking a well matched school may have to wait till he can go to public and tech-focused becomes an option.

(Toy) Weapons Are A Great Thing

I think psychologists must be wrong. At least some of them.

I have often heard that allowing children to see violence, even cartoon violence, makes kids violent. Heartless. Insensitive. Sociopathic.

While there may be some correlation between violent imagery and development in some children, I just don’t find a cause and effect. If there were, I’d probably have a little demon on my hands. I don’t.

Sasha is fascinated by the idea of weapons. He has several swords, guns, shields, and even a truncheon and a piece of plastic he decided was a bazooka. They are all fake and harmless. The swords are soft foam. The only gun that actually shoots anything is a purple water pistol. He thinks that the proper phrasing is that you “Pew” the gun, rather than shoot.

He also likes stories where weaponry and violence occur. We’ve made sure to select that they not be *too* bad and make bad and good quite clear: The Legends of Arthur, Greek mythology, Robin Hood for the older tales and Superman and other great superheroes for the modern ones.

He adores them. Superman has helped Perseus on several adventures he’s created and I love it. Pirates nearly always figure in and sometimes they are good; sometimes they are bad. He has them as the ultimate self-serving opportunists. They are his ‘grey.’ While they might do the right thing, it won’t be for the right reasons. His heroes are all motivated by the greater good.

I think he has learned from the tales and knows right from wrong quite well.
But he has not really been desensitized. At all.

When a Humane Society or ASPCA commercial comes on, he cries. He cries for all the puppies and kitties who need Mommies to take care of them.

When Superman is falling to the power of kryptonite, he cries and implores Superman to get better and get away from the poison rock.

And when I read him Peter Rabbit? Well, he only just realized what was meant by “He was put into a pie by Mrs. McGregor.” And. He cried. He doesn’t seem to have a problem with the idea of eating fish and birds. He knows about that and still heartily eats them. He has problems when it comes to mammals. He just thinks it’s wrong.

This child is not desensitized by seeing Errol Flynn stab people or hearing about Medusa’s beheading. He just learned about good, evil, and self-defense.

The Tinkerer's Gene

I’m finding it’s actually very interesting to deal with.

I have a slight case of it (maybe heterozygous). My husband has it in spades (definitely homozygous. And dominant. And aggressively dominant. And is there something more than aggressively dominant?).

And I’ve suspected for some time that Sasha took after his father. I am sure now that it’s true. And it’s presented some unique parenting challenges and successes.

I feel great pride in that my son can keep his two-sided and lenticular Toy Story puzzles all in the same boxes and have no problem with the fact that they are all very similar and mixed together. Or that there are ultimately two pictures on each piece and he’s okay with that. They get put together just fine.

I feel great pride in that my 3 year old has graduated from MegaBloks and Duplos and builds things with regular Legos (and can follow the directions that come with them to build specific models).

It’s fun for to think up hands-on projects were we produce an item. It’s easy with him to have a rainy day. We can cook. We can build something from wood. We can use paste and foam and create something fun. He can do it and the words “lets do a project” are always met with joyous participation.

But it’s hard to make more traditional academics interesting to him. Particularly the alphabet.
Colors, shapes, and numbers have been easy because they are important when making something.

It’s hard to find a way to fit in letters. Mechanical directions are typically pictures with occasional numbers and colors. They don’t often give written steps.

And the problem is, I know he knows the letters. He sings the alphabet song while he works. Once in a while he’ll use a letter to describe something he wants (I need to make it look like a big red X). But mostly, because letters bore him, he answers questions about letters wrong on purpose (he laughs at his little joke).

School is going to be a difficult path for us.

The Pirates Who Actually Do Stuff

We’ve fully entered the Pirate Phase.

Granted, this is yet another thing that has his teachers in fits. But we’ve been using it as a period of instruction—much like we did with the space and robots phase (not that he is over that, but this if far more novel at the moment). We ENCOURAGE his immersion in all things Pirate.

In addition to letting him see movies like Pirates of the Caribbean and run around with a sponge sword and a pirate hat, we see opportunity for learning.

Discussions on seafaring. It’s tools. How they are used. The vocabulary. Real pirates in the modern age. All are fascinating to Sasha and something Grandpa knows a great deal about and can explain and (even better) SHOW him.

An Uncle has taught him about swords. How to hold it right. How to stand. The names for different kinds.

It’s not typical preschool education, but why not? He’s fascinated and we can incorporate numbers and letters, shapes and colors into it too. But there is plenty of physics, earth science, and other stuff to be learned through his periods of fascination.

And the name calling and threats are all part of the play acting and something kids just do around 3 or 4. And if he calls me “Scurvy” well, that’s just an opportunity to let him know what scurvy is and why we need to eat our vegetables. Right?

If he threatens to “cut me off the calendar?” Well, that’s just kind of funny.

Do Nothing

Ah, teachers…

It seems that those who are professional caretakers of children seem to be also be the ones most prone to freaking out over little bits of nothing.

Either that, or I am WAYYYYY too laid back.

We’ve been “spoken to” several times over the last few months by Sasha’s teachers on a number of topics and about his lack of progress in relation to his classmates.

First about the potty training. He was behind and we needed to “do something.”

We didn’t do anything. We actually kind of gave up. He decided on his own to go forwards and use the toilet consistently in very short order. In other words, time made the adjustments necessary and he became potty trained when he was ready.

Then about finger painting. He wouldn’t do it, appeared to have issues with the concept, and we needed to “do something.”

I told the teacher to hand him a brush. Sasha has always had a real problem with anything that feels ‘yucky’ on his hands and so finger painting is a no-go. Handing him a brush not only fixes the problem of him not painting, but is actually what the teachers should be trying to move towards. And? Painting is the one artistic medium right now where his art looks like what he tells you it is. The school finally listened and we have a lovely painting of a rocket ship (complete with nose cone and lightening bolt accent) taking off.

Then about eating. Sasha wouldn’t eat bread and so we needed to “do something” and get him to learn to like it.

Yeah, because that makes sense and seems like a rational request. I did nothing. I urged my husband to do nothing. I continued my methods of having lots of options available and letting him eat or not eat what he wished so long as it was a) enough food, b) a healthy mix, c) what everyone else was eating and not a separate meal. He decided to go along with breads on his own after he discovered the joys of using the bread maker and picking the next flavor of bread himself. He decided to like bread on his own when he was ready.

Now it’s about his drawing. Sasha trembles when using crayons, pencils, etc. and can’t seem to get it to work. We need to “do something.”

I? Plan to do nothing.

Apparently preschool teachers need to read the series by Louise Bates Ames. Sasha is 3 and a half. This is completely normal and expected and part of healthy development for many children. It’s also something I noticed already (hello, I do interact with my child!). He used to be able to draw all the basic geometric shapes (square, circle, triangle, octagon…) but lately it all comes up “snakes.” And when Sasha gets overly frustrated, he quits. He will get it together when he’s ready and on his timetable. I figure around 4 it will clear up on it’s own. We will continue to have fun art projects that encourage him to draw, color, and paint and just wait.

I would be worried if we seemed to have a child who was lapsing in something more significant. Like if he didn’t speak, or couldn’t throw or kick a ball. Something more basic. But it’s these little things and still in the wide realm of ‘normal’. I know that Sasha is just an average kid because all these issues also come with areas he’s ahead. And these too appear to have given them concerns as well so I have to wonder at what exactly is included in the curriculum for someone studying Early Childhood Education.

It doesn’t seem to prepare them for early childhood.

We Won't Be Seeing the New Yogi Bear Movie Either

I’ve written before that Sasha has a unique list of fears.

Well, they aren’t really unique…they’re more brain bogglingly practical. Which is why when his uncle had a brain fart and left Aliens on in the room where Sasha was staging Playmobile pirate battles we didn’t have any nightmares or a freaked out child. They were monsters doing awful things, yes. But they were far away in space and you had to take a spaceship to get there. Since we were home, no worries (however his continuing desire to be an astronaut, an army man, and an astronaut army man has me wondering if I have a placid-seeming little thrill-seeker or just someone who hasn’t yet developed any logic centers).
But I digress…

These are some of the tales we’re told by a hysterical child at O’dark thirty in the morning:

“They took my apples and oranges away and put them in the fridge! Get them back for me!”
“He poked me in the eye and now I can’t read! I want to read, Mommy!”
“Someone took my dinosaur toy, Mommy! Help me find it!” (he has no dinosaur toy)
“My icecream! Make Daddy stop eating my icecream!”

And then sometimes something about David Bowie. I really regret both Labyrinth and The Snowman.

But nothing truly terrible. No dream that surpasses a mother’s ability to fix (except, maybe, Bowie). A few hugs, the assurances that he can still read or that we do indeed still have food in the house and that it’s available to him and he’s fine.

Ah, my little oddball…

How much you want to bet that his hell is something like being the Ranger in Jellystone Park with a glam-rock concert going on?

Not Quite Punk

Well, it happened.

Sasha came home from school last night complaining that his feet hurt and his shoes “nots fits.” He must have grown during naptime. Thankfully, I had been expecting to get up some random morning and in the rush to get out the door find that none of his shoes fit. So I bought a pair of size 10, light-up, Buzz Lightyear sneakers and put them away. Just in case. So all I had to do was go get them and no last minute run out to the store in a panic rush. No fits about having to get rid of his old Spiderman sneakers either since these were apparently much cooler.

I’m also pretty glad that we bought all his fall clothes just a touch large (size 5). Not ridiculously big, but a bit roomy. This morning all that extra space was used.

Sasha has a new favorite song. And? It’s totally inappropriate for a 3 year old.

Fortunately, he has misunderstood 90% of the lyrics and so sings it wrong. Meaning I don’t have to be called to school to explain anything.

The “Let’s Go Song” (as it’s now known in our house) isn’t even a genre little kids tend to like. So, color me surprised when he asked me to put it on. Color me even more surprised when I realized my music collection which includes several selections by Sid Vicious, Husker Du, Orange 9mm, NOFX and so on does not include anything by The Ramones. And the further surprise came when I heard him sing it. I wonder if Joey Ramone is rolling in his grave or laughing when tiny tots mishear the song and sing the words “…the kids are startin’ to whine. A Big Cheese Ball”.

Seems he thinks it’s a song about snacktime. Ah, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree…

You Can't Always Get What You Want

The longer I consider it, the more I’m sure we made the right decision. In a few weeks Sasha will move to full time at school. He enjoys it there. He has his friends. Every day he goes he comes home happy, rash-and-hive-free (a big thing for him), in a great mood, and excited to tell me about how fabulous his day was and all the fun he had. He’s also quickly catching up in areas he had fallen behind (like self-sufficiency).

Quite simply, it’s shown to be very good for him in a very short time.
For him, I’m sure that this is the right choice. He needs constancy and somewhere he can thrive and this is clearly it for him at this stage.

For us, his parents, it’s also a right choice. Because it’s a school, and one with mildly ill child care, there is a schedule dictating when it’s open and when it’s closed. Last minute changes, vacations, or “life happening” won’t result in a last minute scramble to figure out who will take care of Sasha today as happens semi-regularly now. We have peace of mind.

It’s also good for the school. I’m sure it’s easier for them to teach when the kids are there more consistently and they can better get into the groove of routine.

It’s showing to be a bad choice for others though. There’s been a great deal of upset about Sasha’s new schedule. A great deal. And difficulty accepting that this decision was made in the best interest of Sasha. It was made quickly, but not rashly. Sometimes when you have to make a decision about your kids, you need to do so without appeasing everyone’s wants. I won’t feel guilty.

The Power of Peer Pressure

Yesterday was Sasha’s first full day at preschool. I can see that this year will be interesting.
In a good way.

Peer pressure is a useful tool that we have not had in our armory up to now. And apparently, he is very susceptible to it—at least when it’s to do something he is supposed to do anyway.

Yesterday, my son dished up and fed himself all day. Even when he was home. The school has mealtimes served “Family style” and picks foods preschoolers don’t generally have trouble navigating (i.e. no brothy soups). The teachers make sure that everyone gets a little of everything, unless you had a note from parents that you weren’t to eat a specific item (allergies, religious rules, etc.). The children are supposed to serve themselves from the platters, take turns doing so, and learn a few basic table manners while being responsible for themselves. Because his peers were doing it, he went along with it. Finally. After much nagging and cajoling from me it took him seeing a bunch of 3 year olds doing it.

He participated in class, even in singing. If you know Sasha, you know he doesn’t LIKE singing and will tell you to stop it and cover your mouth if he sees you. This made Church interesting until I told him that we HAD to sing because Jesus wants us to sing in his house. And if we DON’T sing, Jesus will be sad. In school, apparently that explanation was unnecessary.

Cleaning with Sasha is hit or miss. But in school, if it’s what everyone else is doing, by Jove he will not be left out. Brooms and dustpans are apparently up his alley and he doesn’t mind being told to sweep up his own mess when he’s emptied the contents of the sand table on to the floor.

And finally, the potty. He only had one accident yesterday at school and it was only a timing issue. He got *himself* up from free play to run to the potty. He went in and pulled down his own pants. He sat down. Unfortunately, things started before he was ready so he utterly destroyed the bathroom by going everywhere. In his pants. Down his leg. On the floor. Across the side of the potty… But progress is progress. Seeing his ‘friends’ go like big kids and knowing they are all like him he felt the pressure to be a big boy and do the right thing. But this brings me to my last post. The teachers have seen what Sasha is capable of in that department. Now, to see how it plays out.

Them's Real Things, Mommy

We have entered the age of the imaginary friend.

I thought we had about 2 months ago, but I wasn’t sure. Conversations with Sasha can be…let’s say less than illuminating. And we checked with his daycare to make sure this wasn’t some of the foreign language skills he’s picked up (I’m good with language, but I know nothing about the dialects or languages of Ghana. Sasha does.). Now I’m sure.

Salarmi, Pormi, and Darmi are his imaginary friends.

Sasha has been quick to claim friends since he first latched on to the notion. The kids at his daycare are his friends. His cousins are his friends. His stuffed animals are his friends. Kerrygirl is his BESTEST friend in the whole world…

But I do know he’s been missing his friends at daycare. The older ones who he had more rapport with have been going to school and either left or had reduced days. Stuffed animals, adults, and a dog are poor substitutes. I cant help but wonder if his fictitious trio have evolved from that.

I’m being careful to humor him, and not make a big deal about it. After all, he’s only 3. Imaginary friends are a healthy development. It’s hard not to laugh when he tells me with great concern that Salarmi fell in the potty, but I try.

Nearly 3 Years

That’s all it took for my son to be physically ready to sleep through the night and go to bed at normal bedtime.

We’ve finally managed an 8:30 bedtime on a regular basis where he actually falls asleep in a reasonable amount of time and sleeps until a decent hour.

This is my reasoning why I think that the thought of sleep training propaganda is bunk. It purports that ALL children can be trained to allow their parents an uninterrupted night’s sleep and a small amount of child-free evening wind down time if you only follow their directions.

We tried them, only to have weeks long stretches where sleep was harder to come by than ever and no progress would be made at all. With Sasha’s language development, it became obvious that all of these wake-ups and demands for attention in the middle of the night came with a very real, very physical need. Once that was made clear, we decided to give up on sleep training once and for all. If your child is hungry/thirsty, has pain, needs to get up and use the toilet, or has terrifying nightmares sleep training is not the answer. Those needs have to be addressed individually.

He now has a stash of cheesy bunnies in his room and goes to bed with a baby bottle or sippy cup of ice water (he can drink from a regular glass, but it doesn’t work when he’s half asleep). If he gets hunger pains at 1am, he is now able to get up and get a few crackers by himself and a drink and then go back to sleep. We keep the little trainer potty upstairs and he is able to use it on his own most of the time (the big potty poses a danger as he sometimes doses back off in the midst of a midnight pee and falls off his seat. The trainer potty keeps him from falling far). He is beginning to learn about dreams so isn’t quite so hysterical when one wakes him up. Sometimes he can even talk himself back down to sleep. Pain, wetting the bed, and a few other glitches still exist to his nighttime independence but we’re making big progress.

It’s all just evidence that children will sleep thru the night when they are ready and you just need to make sure you aren’t training them to stay awake. Consistent attempts at a reasonable bedtime and further consistency in putting them back to bed will eventually work.

When they are ready. Children all ascribe to their own timeline and they don’t read the parenting books.

I fully expect another spurt of nighttime wakefulness when the next growth spurt arrives. That’s when he has problems with ‘growing pains’ in his legs. I’ll be ready with the 2am calf massages and the Motrin.

Play With Me, Mommy!

These are the words that meet my ears the minute the front door is open.

I'm met by my entourage. Both dogs flank my sides, leaping and whining for attention and affection. And a little blonde-headed boy, my Sasha, stands right in front of me, offering a ball, box of blocks, a spaceship...whatever the toy of the moment is.

And now, when he says play with me, he definitely means it.

Gone are the days where "play with me" meant sit beside me but don't touch my stuff. Now when he dumps out a box of blocks, if you aren't participating he'll hand you a few peices and make suggestions on where you might place them on the structure he's building. When he has out a playset, you have little men who are supposed to interact with his in the imaginary world he's created I very rarely understand. Thanks to a bin of dress-ups he received as a birthday gift, some of the time his imaginary worlds reappropriate items and people from the world around him with little notice or explaination.

Now we've begun playing more structured games with him. It's been helpful for all of us because we adults have an easier time understanding what's going on. Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots was a first attempt. Oh, how he loved it! And as a bonus, it's a battery-free game (we're trying. Dead batteries are a killjoy, an unnecessary expense, and an environmental problem. I'm having pretty good luck finding obnoxiously loud toys with flashing lights that wind up). Next came regular jigsaw puzzles, not the kind that come in a frame--just loose peices in a cardboard box. Another score! Then Memory. Another win!

I've stocked a few for the summer so that he and Dad can play together in a way that frustrates no one and a few other items to make summer more fun (sprinkler, wading pool, new sandbox sand, etc). I hope to start having some playdates soon, as boardgames and sprinklers are created to be done WITH someone and will help his little 'sharing problem' (he's 3. I know it's normal to not want people touching his stuff). We'll have lots of options for group play!