Archives for August 2006

Last night the Wiggles were in Columbus, and Aaron and I took Cordy to see her favorite boy band. We went to the show last year, also, when Cordy was just 11 months old, but we figured she would probably have more fun this year.

During the morning we got her psyched up for the show. “Cordy, tonight you get to see the Wiggles!” “Weee-gils!” she’d exclaim in return. She spent the day with my friend L. and her son B., and then we all met up at Nationwide Arena for the concert.

The concert was fantastic! Once again, we had seats fairly close to the stage on the left hand side. The place was packed with exasperated parents and overexcited toddlers and preschoolers. Cordy wanted to climb up and down the arena stairs, so we had to sandwich her in between us to keep her from disappearing.

Practicing her Captain Feathersword “Arrrrr!”

If you’ve never been to a Wiggles concert before, I have to tell you, it’s worth the ticket price for the show. It’s clear these guys really love kids. In a 15,000 person arena, they do as much as possible to make sure that every kid feels like they got a little special treatment.

At one point, they were pointing to and reading homemade signs in the audience, thanking the children for their signs and drawings. They also asked who was celebrating a birthday that day, and mentioned 7 kids and one adult by name when singing Happy Birthday.

Everyone but Greg (who is the lead singer) goes out into the audience at some point, even going way up into the cheap seats to collect drawings, roses for Dorothy the Dinosaur, and bones for Wags the Dog. They donate all of the flowers to the local children’s hospital after the show, and all of the bones collected go to the local dog pound. They never refuse a picture.

I’m proud to say that this year we managed to get all four of them to make eye contact and wave at us at some point during the show. Cordy started to get tired about halfway through the show, and while I was waving to Jeff (the sleepy, purple Wiggle), he waved back, and noticed that Cordy wasn’t waving (I was trying to get her to wave to him). I picked up her hand and waved it for her, and he got a big laugh from it.

And they don’t disappoint the parents, either. Murray at one point told the crowd he needed to tune his guitar, and without any fanfare started playing “Stairway to Heaven” as his warm-up, prompting laughter and applause from the parents.

Oh, and for the moms out there who think Anthony is hot? Ladies, I got to touch the man. Seriously. We had a rose left over by accident (yes, by accident, I swear!), and when he came over to our section to collect bones for Wags, I handed him the rose, joking that we thought Wags deserved roses as well. I can now say, conclusively, he’s just as good looking and sweet up close.

Cordelia liked seeing her heroes, although just like last year we had trouble getting her to watch the show. There are large video screens on either side of the stage, and she generally preferred to watch the video screens. Apparently telling Cordy that we’re going to see the Wiggles tonight translates to watching a video to her. We had to keep turning her head and telling her, “No, Cordy, you don’t need to watch them on TV. Look, they’re right in front of you!“ It’s like she had trouble accepting they could be right there, in the flesh.

We did learn that Halloween may be a little troublesome this year. At one point, the backup dancers came out dressed as animals (a monkey, an elephant, and a tiger), and Cordy freaked out when she saw them. She wasn’t scared of anything else in the show, but the large animals dancing around on stage sent her burrowing her face into my chest with a wail.

Not only was she tired, but the tooth she’s cutting at the moment is giving her hell. At one point I looked in her mouth, and the tissue around the tooth was bloody. No wonder she was in such a grumpy mood.

We couldn’t leave without souvenirs, of course. The wait to buy them, however, was obscene. When I finally got to the front of the line, I asked for a white t-shirt in an extra small, only to be told small was the smallest size they had in any of the t-shirts. A small is a child’s 6-7. I looked at the woman behind the counter and said, “You do realize toddlers and preschoolers are the target demographic, right?” She gave me a helpless look and replied that they no longer had any of the smaller sizes. I made the suggestion that perhaps they need to carry fewer large sizes and more smaller sizes. So we got a small t-shirt (or nightshirt, depending on how you look at it right now), and a Captain Feathersword hat.

When we got home, Cordy didn’t fight the bedtime routine at all. She let us change her into her PJs, grabbed Blue, and stood in front of the stairs, waiting for me to take her up to bed. I know she probably won’t remember the show, but I’m glad the Wiggles put on such a fun, entertaining show for all of us.

OK, so I’m a day late to the party, but yesterday kicked off the 37th season of Sesame Street, and the Lovely Mrs. Davis threw a blog party to celebrate the kick off. The big party game was to answer this question: What television, music, movie, or book from your childhood are you excited about sharing with your own children?

I had to think about this for awhile. There is so much from when I was younger that I still hang on to.

First, I’d have to say the Choose Your Own Adventure books. Aaron still has a large collection of them, and as a kid I checked every single one of them out of our library. Back before kids books were interactive with flashing lights and music (for the record, I hate those awful things), the Choose Your Own Adventure books were the first interactive books. You got to actually take part in shaping the story!

For those who never read them, it generally involved a page or two of text, followed by a question. Usually the heroes were stuck choosing what direction to go next, and the bottom of the page would read, “If the heroes turn left, go to page 53. If the heroes turn right, go to page 22.” One choice was always the better choice over the other, and the story had different endings depending on the choices you made.

I would read these books over and over, selecting different choices each time to see how it would affect the outcome. Sometimes I’d flip to a page and just take a peek to see if it would lead to certain doom – if so, I’d choose the other option. Yes, that was cheating. But these books made me feel like I had some say in the story, and to a child, having a little control over something is a special treat.

Next, I intend for my daughter to watch The Last Unicorn. I still have strong memories of watching this amazing animated movie as a child! Sure, there’s a little bit of language in it, and the animation is crude, but the story is full of so much emotion and beauty. Plus, the cast of characters is one you’ll never find in today’s sanitized children’s movies: Mommy Fortuna, the mad witch, Schmendrick, the young (and bumbling) magician, the outspoken Molly Grue, and the scary old King Haggard.

The story involves a unicorn, the last of her kind, leaving her forest to find out what happened to the others. Along the way, she learns a hard lesson that the rest of the world is not a safe place. She meets Schmendrick along the way, and they find their way to King Haggard, but not before Schmendrick accidentally transforms her into a human.

They discover that the king has used his fierce Red Bull (before the energy drink, people) to capture all the other unicorns and drive them into the sea, so that their beauty may be viewed by the king alone. While in her human form, the unicorn meets the king’s son, Prince Lir, and the two fall in love.

However, the king soon discovers she’s a unicorn and sends his bull to capture her. She is transformed into a unicorn again so that she can defend herself, but she now wants to remain a human and refuses to fight back. The prince is killed when he tries to defend her, and his death prompts her to fight back and drive the bull into the sea, freeing the other unicorns. However, she is now different from all of them, for no unicorn has ever felt love or regret, and she now carries both with her.

My retelling does the story a disservice, so if you’ve never seen it, I encourage you to watch this movie. It’s just as entertaining for adults as well.

Since this post is getting long, I’ll throw in at the end other things from my childhood that I plan to share with Cordelia and any other children we may have: the Muppets (of course), School House Rock, the movies The Last Starfighter and Explorers, Animaniacs (sure, it was my teen years, but they’re a must-have!), and Sailor Moon (also teen years, but originally made in the 80’s in Japan).

Somedays, I just want to scoop up all of my readers and give them a big hug. Last week I had my mini-breakdown, wondering how I could possibly keep up the crazy schedule I’m living right now. I really appreciated all of your comments, and it felt good to know I’m not alone. In the middle of all of those comments, there was also a little offer for finding a solution.

Devra from Parentopia.net left a comment on that post offering her help. You may or may not know Devra and Aviva, co-authors of the book Mommy Guilt. (Side note: I met Devra at BlogHer 06 and she is probably one of the most upbeat, funny and friendly women I have ever met. She’s tough to keep up with at a party!) This type of problem is one they love to tackle.

I read her comment and thought it over for a few days before e-mailing her to take her up on her offer of assistance. I sometimes have trouble admitting I need help and that maybe I can’t do it all. So once I saw the offer, I wondered if I had opened myself up too much, and revealed myself as the flawed, scared, frustrated mother that I am. Then I realized I was being silly – after all, I’ve never said I’m perfect. Since day 1, my parenting of Cordy has been a haphazard by-the-seat-of-my-pants style. That’s part of the reason I started blogging – most of my friends have no kids, and wanted to find a community of people to share advice with, and to commiserate with in this crazy ride we call parenting.

Blogging is the best open forum a person can ask for. For me, it’s like having a personal diary with a multiple personality disorder – I can write out my private thoughts, and different “voices” then take over and give me advice, criticize me, laugh with me, or just say hello and offer me free Playboy. (Yay, spammers.) Of course, now I can put faces to many of those voices after BlogHer, but the comparison still fits, I think.

In the first section of their book, Devra and Aviva address the Seven Principles of the Mommy Guilt-Free Philosophy. This week, they will be using my real-life situation to talk about the first principle: You must be willing to let some things go. I can see how I’m a good candidate for this one.

But here’s where this becomes interesting for you, too. Certainly I’m not the only one out there up to my eyeballs in mommy guilt, and struggling to balance my life, right? Devra thought it would be interesting to have other bloggers work with them for the other six principles, so that in all, seven moms get some expert help.

(Note: I’m hoping some of you will volunteer. I initially thought of tagging others, but then I thought that might be interpreted as me saying, “Hey, I think you need parenting help, you lousy mom.” Which, of course, is not what I would think at all.)

So, anyone in this with me? The first principle will be up on Parentopia later this week, with other principles to follow in later weeks, or as often as Devra and Aviva have time.

I was minding my own business, placing an order through Amazon, when this popped up as one of their suggestions for me. I saw it, and couldn’t stop laughing.
So apparently the message is Jesus loves you, but only if you stop your crying and go to bed.

Dude, I feel so much better about those early days when Cordy had colic – if Jesus can’t deal with it, then I can’t be expected to do any better, right?

The discipline in this house just got kicked up a notch. Please follow along as we go through the timeline of a tantrum.

Cordy has entered the phase of the mega-tantrum over the last few weeks. As I write this, she is currently in her chair, screaming at the top of her lungs, with short pauses to cough, catch her breath, and open her eyes just enough to peek and see if I’m paying attention. We’re on minute 17 currently, with no signs of slowing. I’d categorize this a Class 4 Tantrum – screams over 110 decibels, with dangerous objects flying through the air. Seek shelter at once.

What led to this breakdown of social grace? I turned off the TV. That led to kicking and smacking me, and I told her no and gave her a time out in her crib. After that 2 minute time out, I got her dressed for the day, which resulted in more kicking and throwing of items. The final straw was having a heavy metal dump truck thrown at my head. Now, I don’t know about you, but nearly having a large metal toy clock me in the head qualifies as a serious red flag penalty in my rule book.

I picked her up once again, and this time designated a time out chair, where she is currently still screaming. (We’re on minute 21 now, if you’re keeping track.) After the requisite 2 minutes, I went back to her and told her she could get up, and reminded her that we don’t throw or hit or kick. But she chose to stay there and scream. OK, have it your way, kid.

The battle of wills is clear here, and knowing that this is just the beginning is a tiring thought. Luckily, I can withstand high pitched screams and I can deal with her thinking I’m a horrible mommy for these punishments. I know I’m not hurting her, and I know she needs to learn what is socially acceptable and what is not. But it does get tiring to hear the screaming continue for 28 minutes, which is what we’re up to right now. (I just offered her a sippy of milk or a banana, which she dramatically refused. Silly child – she needs to learn a little more forethought in picking which cause she chooses to hunger strike for.)

I also learned today that it may be time for the toddler bed. When I came in to get her from her crib during the first 2 minute time out, she had thrown everything out of her crib, and had one leg hooked over the side, trying to figure out how to shift her weight up and over the crib rail. We’re very close to a fall from the crib.

It’s now 36 minutes in, and she has returned to the crib after flinging a book at me. She will no longer sit in her chair, and the crib is the only other place to keep her semi-confined and out of pitching distance. Do other parents go through tantrums this long, or does my daughter just have unusual endurance for this type of activity?

I know I could stop all of this just by turning on the TV and putting one of her favorite shows on, but I feel like I’d be caving in if I did that. I don’t want her to think she can act this way and get what she wants. In fact, that’s the opposite of what I want her to learn. I don’t want her to scream and cry in Macy’s when she’s 21 because she can’t afford the Ralph Lauren dress she wants, or throw her water glass at a waiter if informs her they’re out of lobster bisque. Enduring this now pays off in the long term.

50 minutes, and the tantrum is over. Finally. Cordy calmed down in the crib, and is now sitting with me eating her snack and smiling, even if her face is a little puffy. I still can’t get her to say the word “sorry”, but I guess that will come with time.

The storm has passed, and we didn’t even need help from FEMA. Now if you’ll excuse me, my head is calling for some Advil.

Has there been a Hurricane Cordelia yet?