Parenting – Page 2

A magical television station

It’s called Playhouse Disney and it has come to me in my most dire hour of need. If The Wiggles is fine Columbian cocaine to toddlers (haha, I can’t wait to see my search queries in a couple months) then Playhouse Disney is a toddler’s cyrstal meth. It doesn’t make any sense. It’s cheap and definitely not organic.

For example, we just watched a “music video” called Happy Lemons. Now a blob of yellow is hopping around talking about meeting Stanley. But Rhen is bopping his head to the crappy psuedo-reggae world music that seems to introduce every child’s program and I can surf the internet. Both lost in our screens, content in our postmodern world.

Complete and utter defeat at the hands of The Wiggles

They’re not terrible. Really quite catchy tunes. I like their Australian accents. I like that the guy with the yellow shirt looks like Rhen’s doctor. I like it when the guy with the blue shirt plays the drums. I like the fact that they actually play instruments. I think the girls on the program have the best smiles. I like it best when they dance and smile. The pirate is super annoying but I’m sure I will like him shortly.

I like the fact that Rhen has been absolutely stone still and quiet since I’ve put it on, allowing me to actually write this post. Let’s all do The Flap. Oooh, the girls are dancing and smiling and doing The Flap now. It’s good.

Resistance was futile. I have been assimilated and it wasn’t all that bad.

Individuating

Last night C_ performed a self-actualization test (scroll down a bit in the link) on Rhen while I was at work. She reported that Rhen initially touched the mirror and then touched his own nose. He’s gets a C+.

If I had been home I would asked her not to do it, not because I’m hippy mother earth let the child be free–I just think it’s a dangerous seed to plant in a parent’s head. I am mindful of Rhen’s development. No doubt. I watch him like a hawk. Screeee. But there will be plenty of tests for him to take later on in life.

Me, the 15 watt lightbulb

When I catch Rhen doing something he’s not supposed to do (like pounding on the DVD player or kicking the dog) he purposely looks in the opposite direction and points to something totally unrelated and proclaims loudly and sternly, “DAH! DaaAAAH!”

It’s cute but it’s basically the equivalent of someone yelling “Oh look! Britney Spears! In a balloon, naked!” while stealing your (insert prized possession).

The game of distraction

Tonight Rhen threw a major fit after being stopped from playing with the living room blinds. Thank the Lord that the six o’ clock news was on and the weather man was doing his report with hip hop dancers (I know they’ll do anything for ratings nowadays).

“Look Rhen! Hip hop dancers! Yeah! Hip hop dancers! Wow. Look at them pop and spin!” The combination of weather and hip hop dancing stopped the tantrum dead in its tracks.

Aw yeah Rhen. You just got served.

Visualize yourself saying peas over and over again

One of the things Rhen likes to do now is point at pictures. We’ve developed a bit of a game. He points. I tell. So this morning we played the game on his high chair tray placemat. On one side it has various fruits and vegetables. He’d point and I name off the produce. It went like this eggplant, corn, carrots, blueberries–peas. Peas, peas, peas, peas, peas, peas, peas, peas (into infinity basically).

Happy mother’s day! Vroom-vroom!

Hi Mom! I hope you’re enjoying your day. Thank you so much for everything you do. Your support and love is unconditional. Such a great gift to receive each day. Thank you. I love you. Now, let’s take a look at a couple of pictures of Moms and their g-rides.

Mom!

Mom on the farm. Way back.

Here’s one of my favorite photos of C_. To me, it’s the very essence of suburban life:

Cul-de-sac. Check.

Go-Kart. Check.

Devil-may-care attitude. Check.

Gokart Mom!

C_ rockin’ the suburbs.

Advanced diaper change

Rhen has become such a squirmy worm on the changing table. A few years before we had Rhen, I watched a friend change his 1-year-old daughter. So chaotic was the scene that it reminded me a bit of medical triage. I have come up with several different diversions to keep him occupied, but today I feel like I topped myself. I calmly removed his pants, folded them neatly and placed them atop my head. A clear work area and my hands were now free. He was completely enthralled and clapped his hands together to show that he had learned something, too.