Talking funny

One thing that is known about the deaf is that we occasionally “talk funny” – in that we mispronounce words. I have done this so many times. I would pronounce “media” as “meh-dia,” “suit” instead of “sweet” for the word “suite,” and “a-cow-stic” instead of “a-coo-stic” for the word “acoustic.” Even still, there are words I cannot pronounce correctly no matter how many times I am told how to pronounce these words. I cannot pronounce the word “anime” because I keep reading it phonetically. Even the word “Samhain,” which is in the title of my forthcoming novel, is a word I keep having a hard time pronouncing because, here again, I say the word phonetically. I am subscribed to a “Word a Day” mailing list, and I always pay attention to how the words are pronounced. For some words I know, I’ll be surprised to learn I’d been pronouncing it wrong!

But there is another kind of “talking funny” and that is when hearing people pronounce words differently, as though they have an accent or something. I am beginning to wonder if that is the case with Jesse.

When Jennifer was a toddler, she had a speech impediment. She could not say the ending “-th” in words and her “l’s” were “w’s” (she called her cousin, Laurie, ‘Waurie” and her friend Lilly became “Willy”). Of course, she outgrew it, but Jesse is going through it now, too. But not only is he doing that, he seems to be doing something else, too.

For example, this morning. He asked me how to spell the word “but” yet when he said that word, it looked like he was saying “boot” when I lipread him. I kept telling him how to spell “boot” but he kept saying that was not the word he meant. So I got Jennifer in on this. She said it sounded like he said “bout” (as in, “about”), but insisted that was not the word he wanted to know how to spell. Neither of us could understand him! And my attempts to try to get him to use the word in a sentence were not successful.

Finally, he wrote the word down as he thought it was spelled: “B-U-T.”

And you know what’s interesting? I had even guessed that word! I asked him if the word was “but” and he said no. I pronounced the word as it should be pronounced (like “butt”) and he had not understood me.

Had he even heard me correctly? I pondered this for a while. Sometimes the kids say they don’t hear ME speaking to them very well, and even Jennifer has told me I don’t pronounce words all the way. This is strange because I was able to talk before I became deaf (I was 13), and so I figure my speech is fine. Or maybe I had not spoken loud enough, a common problem for someone who can’t judge how loud her own voice is.

Nevertheless, I was concerned. The word Jesse meant was “but” yet Jennifer had HEARD “bout.” Was it possible Jesse was saying words wrong?

I know he will have a speech therapist when he enters elementary school (just as Jennifer did – and this was what helped her get over her speech impediment) but I thought maybe we should look into seeing one sooner. I brought this up with my husband and he said not to worry about it, though he DID sit down with Jesse himself to go over the speech thing.

So I guess we have to wait until he goes into elementary school and starts seeing a speech therapist. Oh, boy, it’s going to be a long summer. Ironically, even if I wore a hearing aid, I still might not be able to understand all of the words Jesse says to me each time he speaks to me. Not if he is not saying the words correctly.

And here I was, thinking we were done with diapers

For what has seemed like an eternity, we have been pottytraining Jesse. It has been a struggle to get him completely pottytrained. It’s been a journey of ups and downs, lasting for months on end. Yet we are hopeful, encouraged by the little victories (even if they are funny victories, such as Jesse running out of the bathroom while wearing NOTHING under the waist and announcing, “I went poopie in the potty!”). And in spite of it taking SO FREAKING LONG for him to wear only underpants instead of Pull-Ups, we persevere.

Ah, yes, the Pull-Ups. That savior who is oh-so-forgiving when it comes to the occasional accident. (And it saves us the job of washing the accident away. Some days, he’ll go through his 10-plus pairs of underwear because of accidents! And meanwhile, I’m cleaning up and washing all of those pairs of dirty underwear.)

Only today, there were no Pull-Ups. We had underwear for him, sure, but no Pull-Ups.

I’d told my husband last night that we were out of Pull-Ups, and could he please pick some up on his way home from work? But, silly me, I’d forgotten that he now gets off work at 2 a.m. instead of 1 a.m., so of course all the stores were closed after he got off work. He couldn’t get the Pull-Ups.

So what was I to do? I needed to get Jesse to preschool, but I didn’t want him to be wetting his pants. Or worse.

Then I remembered something. Not too long ago, when I was doing some organizing in the garage, I came across Jesse’s diaper bag. I remember cleaning it out and finding diapers in it. Diapers that were actually a size he could fit into.

So I ran into the garage, grabbed one of the diapers from the yard sale pile, and double-checked the size. Yep, perfect. I went back into the house determined to get my son dressed and ready for school, even though that meant putting a diaper on him. My resolve lasted as far as me walking to his room to wake him up. I literally sulked there in the hallway. A diaper. I am putting a DIAPER on my preschooler! Talk about taking a step backwards. We’re trying to be DONE with diapers for good, not have to use them all over again! It was embarrassing. Humiliating. And even though Jesse is only 3 and probably wouldn’t even notice, I thought it was STILL humiliating for him to wear a diaper.

And, actually, he did notice. When I was cleaning him up while getting him ready, I started to put the diaper on him. He freaked. He panicked. It was like the Incredible Hulk.

A diaper? Forget it!

“No diaper!” he cried, moving away from the diaper I held as if it was a biohazard.

Now, even as I agreed with him on the whole DIAPERS ARE EVIL thing and how he is a big boy now, and not a baby anymore (this has been the message we have been trying to get through to him during this whole pottytraining saga), we had no choice. We had to use a diaper. Forget underwear; I just knew he’d end up wetting his pants!

I explained to him that we didn’t have any Pull-Ups and that we HAD to use the diaper. I apologized to him about this and told him I know he didn’t like diapers and I don’t like them either, but it was either that or stay home from school. Eventually, he calmed down and understood the situation. He allowed me to put the diaper on and, surprisingly, he even joked about wearing one after it was on.

As I proceeded to dress him, I started to worry. What if Kim saw him wearing a diaper and flew off the handle about it? My husband reminded me when Jesse started preschool that they won’t let him attend if he’s in diapers. And I didn’t want to send a preschooler to preschool while “still in diapers.” But then I knew we had to do what we had to do (maybe she would understand that) and it’s not like I DO send him to preschool in diapers! He wears Pull-Ups!

Yes, we could have gone to the store this morning to get him Pull-Ups before dropping him off at school, but we were already an hour late (stupid alarm clock!) and I had some work to get done. I got the Pull-Ups AFTER I dropped Jesse off at preschool. We got rid of his diaper after he got home (and it was a very wet diaper – surprise, surprise. Oh, someday I will get my son to use that toilet at his preschool! I hope!!) and got him into a Pull-Up. Next week, however, he’ll be in his underwear for all of Spring Break, and I’m hoping THAT will be the week we’ll finally be done relying on Pull-Ups.

Because we sure are finally done relying on diapers.

Should we blame the school?

Because we FINALLY had some nice weather today, and because the kids are finally over their fevers/coughs/sore throats, I took them to the park this afternoon. Before then, they spent some time out in the backyard, working with plants. I was so proud of them; they were pulling weeds, watering plants and checking on flowers, all without my asking! Anyway, after the park, we piled into the car and went to the grocery store. Everything was going fine, we were in the freezer section picking out dinner, when Jesse pointed at someone and said, "Hey! You're stupid!"

Jennifer looked at me in shock. I double-checked with her to see if he had said what I had THOUGHT he said. Yes, she confirmed that he did indeed call a complete stranger "stupid."

I grew up in a family where name-calling ran rampant. I myself called others names, but what hurt me the most was my father often calling me "stupid." This left a wound that has never really healed. But this is why I am so against name-calling. I just won't stand for it. We don't call names at home, so I had to wonder why Jesse was starting to call people a name.

It's possible he heard it on a TV show. But my husband thinks otherwise. He thinks Jesse has been exposed to name-calling at his preschool.

This is not the first time he has blamed Jesse's preschool for something. Sometime after Jesse started preschool, he began hitting and kicking us. We don't allow that kind of behavior at home. We don't hit and kick each other! (Unlike how my own childhood was like.) So after he started doing this, my husband thought Jesse picked up on that behavior at school.

I cannot really tell for certain if this is true. I HAVE quizzed Jennifer a couple of times on what goes on at that school, because she has spent the day there a time or two. She said that hitting, kicking and name-calling NEVER happened at the school. And believe me, I know Kim! She is one of the most gentle and nonviolent people I have ever met. She has enormous patience with those kids.

But, still...we have to wonder. What if a child did call someone a name? What if Jesse did pick up on that from his preschool?

Then again, we must remember: He's 3. He doesn't need to be exposed to these things at preschool for them to happen. He's a boy, he's a toddler, he's working through his emotions the only way he knows how.

And of course, I'm probably just making excuses here....

We have made it clear to Jesse we won't tolerate name-calling. In fact, at dinner, he called Jennifer a name and my husband had to remove him from the table to have a face-to-face talk with him about this name-calling business. I only hope it is enough. I don't want to take Jesse out of preschool just because he is exhibiting this behavior. Hopefully, something will click for him and the next time he sees a child calling someone a name, he will know that that's bad instead of copying it.

Counting on your fingers

In the adult world, counting on your fingers is supposed to be a sign of less-than-optimal intelligence. But in the deaf and hard-of-hearing world, those who sign use their fingers to show numbers all the time. Just as there are signs for the letters of the alphabet, there are also signs for numbers.

When Jennifer was little, I taught her the alphabet by voice and sign. I would sign and say the letters at the same time. This was repeated when I taught her numbers. We are doing this with Jesse, as well. Just as we sign letters to him, so he knows what the signs are, we also sign how to count on his fingers with each number.

When children use their fingers to count, it usually goes that they would hold up each finger and count to 10 with both hands. But for signing, we only use one hand for all the numbers.

To get an idea of how to sign the numbers with one hand, check out this video:



Anyway, I have been working with him on that. It took some time for him to grasp signing "3" the way it's done in ASL. Holding up the three big fingers for "3" is the same as the letter "W" so, for a signer, we use the middle, index fingers and the thumb for the number "3." (When hubby and I watched the movie Inglorious Basterds, I had to marvel over how a character discovered a spy based on how the bad guy indicated the number "3." He did so using the way the number is signed in ASL. I could only think that a deaf person during that part of history must have been too scared to sign "3" for fear of being accused of being a spy!) But he has finally been able to sign "3" like we do, though occasionally he reverts back to "W" instead. And, for a time, he also forgot the number "4," both verbally and physically (yes, he counted 1-2-3-5 for a while there).

Yesterday, while we were waiting to be called at his doctor appointment, I tried to keep him preoccupied by counting things. He would point at pictures of flowers and count them in each photo. He counted all 10 flowers in one picture. And he counted on his fingers correctly. I praised him and gave him a little cheer for counting to 10 both verbally and physically (the way a signer counts to 10) and he was quite proud of himself. He counted all 10 flowers again before dashing off to study something else in that waiting area.

I am glad he can count to 10 the way a signer does. Now we need to work on getting him to count higher -- both verbally and on just one hand.

And when he was bad

I've got it! The perfect title for a book if I ever decide to write about my son's life: "And When He Was Bad..."

I love my son. Really, I do. He is so precious to me. BUT! Believe me, he is VERY mischievous. My mother used to share horror stories of the kind of mischief I caused when I was a toddler. I guess history is repeating itself.

This month, a new book for parents of 2-year-olds came out called The Terrible Twos: A Parent's Guide. It's by my friend and fellow writing parent Shanta Everington. I mention this book because I am in there, discussing how I'm getting through the "terrible twos" with my own toddler. I have earned my place in that book! I will be sharing some instances as to the sort of mischief Jesse has caused in his short life on her blog next weekend.

The kind of mischief Jesse has caused has been enough to make us scream, tear our hair out, have our hearts in our throats and cry. Yes, cry. But, we need to laugh, too. For instance, Jesse got a hold of the hose this evening while I was cooking dinner. His older sister was supposed to be watching him (as hubby was busy in the garage) but she had other plans. Anyway, Jesse was in the back yard, got hold of the hose, pointed it inside the house and...let it rip. It took hours to clean up the mess. We were cursing, grumbling, stomping feet, refusing ice cream to the children and sending them to bed early. But in the end...hubby joked about it. He said, "At least the house is cleaner than it was before."

You just have to laugh at these things...after you cry.

Not too long ago, I was on the phone with my mom. I was sharing with her my worries over Jesse's latest ailment (the doctor thinks he has a cyst next to his eye) and complaining of how it was so unfair that Jesse was going through so much medical trauma at such a young age. There was this, then that and then THAT! Heck, he was born with the side of his head uneven! But I reasoned that, just as I went through so much early in life and all that nonsense ended later on, as I got older, maybe it will be that way for Jesse, too.

I'd like to think that the same could be said as far as Jesse being a troublemaker is concerned.

Well...maybe.

Who knows.

A girl can dream!

Down with diapers!

I have a new mantra: Down with diapers! Up until today, we have been going back and forth on the pottytraining thing with Jesse. Some days were good, some not so good. Today, however, I feel more confident about this pottytraining stuff, because today I got Jesse everything he needed: A potty training seat and his own underwear.

Yep, that's right. His first underwear! No more diapers!

I have, however, kept a few of his diapers on hand, mainly because he WILL be wearing them for his naps and at bedtime. But other than that, he's going to be wearing the underwear and not much else besides a T-shirt. I think it would be better if he mastered the whole picking up on when he had to go potty, experiencing the accidents and learning how to pull the underwear down and up thing before I add pants to that mix.

This is the way my mom pottytrained her kids and grandkids. I have heard of some parents letting their toddlers run around with NOTHING covering the bottom, but I don't feel comfortable about that. I think it's better to have him wearing underwear instead. Worked for my mom, so maybe it will work for us, too.

I have also noticed, as I worked with him today, that he got impatient waiting for something to happen while he sat on his potty. So I got a bunch of his books and put them into a drawer by his potty chair. I joked to Jennifer about how I never understood the whole "boys and reading while on the potty" thing and she admitted that she liked to read while using the potty, too. So she, too, had some of her books put into the bathroom. I guess I am the only one in this family who doesn't read while on the toilet!

The book thing worked like a charm. He quietly sat on his potty chair, going through his books. Sometimes, though, he would say he had to go potty and when he was on that thing, nothing happened. I think he just wanted to sit on an uber comfy seat and enjoy his books!

The potty chair I got for Jesse had an inflatable seat on it. I told Jennifer they didn't have anything like that when she was pottytraining and she was NOT happy. I told her the potty chairs they have for babies now are so different than what they had when she was a baby. Heck, one of them even plays music! And Jesse's even has a bar on it for toilet paper. We no longer have Jennifer's original pottytraining seat but it was interesting to compare how they were all different. The one thing that stayed the same, however, is that Jesse's chair can be converted to a stepping stool, just like Jennifer's was.

I'll be working with Jesse this week on getting this pottytraining thing down pat. And I just may start reading on the toilet, too -- not while using it!! -- because I have noticed that sometimes it takes him a while to go to the bathroom and determine if he is done.

At first, he wanted to check out the potty chair, take it apart and put it back together again, and I read this is normal at first. I am reading EVERYTHING I can on this pottytraining stuff -- not so much to refresh my memory but also because this time it is with a BOY! And I read that you should teach boys how to pee sitting down first, then later how to do so standing up. (That will be where his father will come in.)

It has been quite a challenge but I know it's important to stick with it. After all, Jesse is READY for this phase of his life. So I have to keep at it until he figures out how to do this on his own.

New house, new worries

Recently, we moved into a new house. We're still in Eugene, just not in West Eugene like before. I had a hard time grasping that we were finally moving out of the house on West 11th. It felt like we were going to be there forever! Even though I knew it was only a "transitional home" for us when me and my daughter moved there after my divorce. Well, the change I wanted for us wasn't the change I'd hoped for, but we definitely have moved on past that and taking the next step of having a more "family home" was long overdue. And it finally happened. I'm still amazed it finally happened but really enjoying our new home. Which I hope we will stay in for a VERY. LONG. TIME. Seriously, I'd forgotten how physically exhausting it is to move into a new home! There were days I was too sore to move after carrying boxes and furniture around. Ugh. Well, the plan is, if we move again, we're going to get a farm. We want horses and chickens and a cow and even pigs! But for now, we're staying put right here.

The new house has hardwood floors, which is something we have wanted for some time. My back is getting acquainted with the agonies of sweeping lots of floors again (as a teen, my parents lived in a house with very little carpet, and my back would HURT from sweeping all of those floors.) I am also learning how to properly care for the floors BUT I am not yet liking the idea of not wearing my shoes. Granted, I know I shouldn't, since my shoes are very old and messed up and they'll scuff the floors if I'm not careful, but I can't afford new shoes right now so hubby has been irritated I don't want to wear my slippers instead. Well, wouldn't you know it; the Great Shoe Debate has once again reared its ugly head. I don't like going barefoot because I don't want my feet to get dirty. I don't like only wearing socks because they, too, get dirty (I wear only white socks) and even wet. I don't like wearing slippers; I prefer SHOES. I'm just one of those people who likes to be READY to jump up and head out the door. Not stop to put on my shoes first. YUCK! When I get new shoes, I'm going to get two pairs, because I am going to start walking/running again since we're in a good area for it and I won't want to wear my running shoes on the nice floors after a run. I'll have house shoes for the house and running shoes for the outdoorsy stuff.

Still, I do really like the new house. It is bigger and brighter. And I don't have to carry a basket of fresh dried laundry through the rain anymore; the washer AND dryer are both in the adjoining garage, instead of one inside the house and the other in a storage room out in the backyard, like at the old house. Also, yes! We have a GARAGE! It's good because we have a safe place to store things (my friend's son had a bicycle stolen from my car port when he had left it there) and even keep our cars in it. No more walking out to a busy street with little kids to get them into the car!

Oh, that's another thing. We don't live on a busy street anymore. Hooray!! Granted, I did enjoy watching the traffic drive by from my front porch, but I was too nervous to let the kids play out front with all that busy traffic. Now Jennifer plays out front all the time (and sometimes, Jesse, when he is supervised).

Another thing that's changed? Jennifer is riding the bus to school now. Hooray! She is thrilled about this. She had been begging me and begging me to ride the bus to school before. But I always figured that, since her school was only 5 minutes away, there was no reason to take the bus. Now we live a little further from her school (thank God she doesn't have to transfer to another school! In Oregon, you're allowed to attend any school you'd like even if you don't live in that school district) so now she rides the bus. A bigger bonus is that now she's eager to get up for school in the mornings, get ready, eat breakfast and get going to catch her bus. She has not been late for any one day since she started riding the bus. AWESOME! If I had known that riding the bus meant Jennifer would be more eager to get ready for school in the mornings and get out the door, I would have signed her up for that a looong time ago. Thankfully, finally, our mornings are more drama-free.

The kids now each have their own room. Jennifer is ecstatic about that and Jesse is figuring out how a whole room is actually "his." Also, we have a bigger backyard now. Yay! Big enough for the kids to finally have a swingset. When we lived in California, Jennifer had a swingset in our front yard, but we had to leave it behind (with other things we could not bring). Then we didn't have a yard big enough for a new one. Now we do! That along with other stuff, like lawn furniture. We just need to get the yard cleaned up and fixed nice and purty, fix a part of the fence, then we can get the swingset and other things we plan to have in our backyard.

And because part of our fence in the backyard is broken, I can't let Jesse out there alone. In fact, I try to keep him as far away from that area of the yard as possible, which isn't so hard given that he likes to play around the shed, anyway. This big backyard is awesome for him; he gets to practice kicking and throwing a ball, running (though he has fallen down quite a bit) and just exercising his flexibility in walking up and down the path to the shed.

The neighbors here are REALLY nice. Everybody came out to meet us and welcome us to the neighborhood. This is also different from when we lived on West 11th. When I moved there with Jennifer, I had to walk over and meet my neighbors. But, even so, they were awesome neighbors. I will miss not being able to say "hi" to Darrell, Heather, Lilly, Tobby, Mark and Carol. But at least I will see them some of the time and I do stay in touch with some of them via e-mail. Also, my old landlord's business is not far from here. In fact, the kids and I walked over there yesterday.

We also live just 5 minutes from a park. Yay! Before, we had to walk 20-30 minutes to the park, but now we're just a hop, skip and a jump from it. Jen goes there a lot. She has made lots of new friends in this neighborhood (including finding out that a boy at her school, who no longer attends the school, lives nearby), so she's there Monday through Friday riding bikes, playing on the swings or shooting hoops. We went there yesterday, too, and both of the kids had such fun playing there.

All the same, I do have new worries to deal with. Jesse is able to unlock both the front door and the door in the kitchen leading to the garage, so we have to get safety locks for them. Also, I have learned, the hard way, to only run the dishwasher when the baby is sleeping. Otherwise, he fools around with the dials and messes up the wash cycle! Also, he gets into the fridge, so we have to keep an eye out for that. (He once took a jug of lemonade with him into Jennifer's room, sat down and started drinking from it in there. We don't allow food or drinks in the bedrooms so I have to bring him back to the kitchen to either pour something into a sippy cup and sit him at the table or put something, like a cookie, onto a plate for him.) I also discovered that the BEST TIME to sweep is also during the baby's naps or after he has gone to bed. It is impossible to sweep the floors and keep him from getting into everything or running out into the garage at the same time. Hubby does sweep, too, so there is that if I can't get around to it.

My time available for the computer has greatly decreased because of said worries. As I type this, the baby is napping. I grab time for writing, blogging, phone calls, checking E-mail and reading E-books to write reviews for whenever possible. I may not be online as much as before, but I'll still be here. Ultimately, meeting my deadlines come first (for SIGNews, my book contracts and turning in book reviews), but if I have some free time to check in with friends and family, or even send out a tweet, then it'll happen.

Please, please, play with your toys!

Every time I see a guy go nuts over a car or a fancy-antsy gun, I can only roll my eyes, shake my head and mumble, "Men and their toys." I think the appreciation for "toys" comes a lot later in life for the males of the human race. As a toddler, my daughter played with her toys to her heart's content. The same cannot be said of her 2-year-old brother.

My son has lots of toys, particularly toy cars since he is so fond of cars. He also has a toy tool set, stuffed animals, toy bowling game and lots of baby-friendly blocks. Yet it seems that all of these sources of fun and excitement are lost on him whenever he has the chance to play with them.

Actually, he'd rather "play" with things that are NOT toys. Say, the remote control for the TV set. The swarm of cords and cables in the desk drawer. And, unfortunately, the various chemicals and cleaning agents that are kept underneath the kitchen sink.

I can't even begin to count the many times I've had to explain to the baby that these "grown up things" are not toys. I might as well be speaking in a foreign language to him every time I say something like "we don't play with the toothbrush" or "the drill is NOT a toy!"

Having access to his toys is not a problem. I actually cornered off an area of the living room for his "play area," where the bulk of his toys are kept ready for him to grab and use. They have been sitting there for days -- neglected, forgotten and unloved. Once in a great while, he might grab his toy saw and start using it on the desk. Or maybe some of the time, he'll take a toy duck he has by the cord and pull it around the room. (This toy is actually a hand-me-down from his older sister.) But for the most part, he prefers to play with other things. Like his dad's pocket watch. The giant paper shredder by the desk. The vacuum cleaner which we usually keep in the hall closet but he somehow always manages to get out of there to play with. And, of course, the trusted telephone we usually keep high on a shelf. (Never mind his toy phone. It's not as cool as the real thing!)

It has gotten to the point where, when a birthday or Christmas comes up, I'll tell family member PLEASE do not send the baby anymore toys. He has enough toys that are, alas, most often ignored. I doubt holding off on buying him more toys will get him to appreciate the toys he does have because first he has to notice that they even exist. So while I'm trying to cut down on the army of toys both kids have, I am still trying to encourage my toddler to take notice of these fun things he has to enjoy and learn from before he is too old for them. Maybe that's my attempt to tell myself money was not wasted on toys a child didn't even want. Or maybe that is just me hoping he will distract himself with his real toys long enough for me to grab his favorite non-toys and hide them under lock and key.

I could use the same lecture I have at the ready anytime my kids refuse to eat their food: There are children in this world who can't have as much stuff as you do. And it's true. I know there are children who don't have as many toys as each of my children do, just as there are children who are not fortunate to have as much clothes as they do or as much food to eat as they do. In this case, however, we're talking about a child who is 2 and sees climbing the furniture to be much more funner than stacking blocks. Maybe later on he'll appreciate his "toys." Quite likely when he's a teenager with a cell phone and VERY likely when he's a grown man with his own car to drive. For now, the toys he has remain items of occasional diversion, nothing more.

Sleeping through the night

This blog post isn't about my baby sleeping through the night. He's 2 now, so that finally happened some months ago. This is about ME sleeping through the night.

Yep, you got that right. Me, his mother.

After Jesse started to figure out how to climb up on things, especially how to climb over things like the baby gate, that's when we his parents were put on full alert. No longer could we relax knowing a baby gate kept him from getting into the kitchen, because now he was climbing over that gate and getting into the kitchen!

But that's not the worst part.

The worst part is that he eventually figured out how to climb up on the desk chair by the front door...and unlatch the safety lock we have at the top of the door. This was there to prevent him from unlocking the front door (as he learned how to do) and running outside, quite possibly into the busy street that we live on.

As one might imagine, this caused some anxiety for me. It wasn't enough that I watched him like a hawk, even took him into the bathroom with me when I had to use the bathroom to avoid something terrible from happening to him. On a very deep level, I was terrified.

Terrified because what if he managed to get out through the door while we're sleeping?

In December, I was heartbroken and in tears after reading a news article of a 2-year-old boy dying from exposure in the freezing cold and snow after slipping out of his Minnesota grandparents' house on Christmas Eve, while everybody was sleeping. As saddened as I was by this news, I was also just as scared for Jesse, that he might end up having the same fate.

Meanwhile, I wasn't sleeping. Every night, I'd wake up every 2 or 3 hours abnd go check on the baby, just to make sure he was still asleep in his crib and okay. Apparently, I was so stressed out over this, I couldn't sleep through the whole night. On a subconscious level, I was worried about the baby wandering about the house and getting out through the front door.

I kept telling my husband that we had to do something about this. We went through a series of ideas to prevent Jesse from slipping through the front door while we slept (and I even considered sleeping on a hideaway bed in front of the front door!) and I wrote about all of that in my book on deaf parenting. We eventually found a solution, which my editor actually suggested (thank you, Liz!): A double-sided deadbolt lock. Sounded like a good idea and the next thing was to keep reminding hubby to pick one up.

Well, first my husband tried using a safety pin on the security lock that the baby figured out how to unlatch. But I guess he got tired of me waking him up so early in the morning to take the pin out, since I couldn't and I had to get the children out the door. He eventually got the deadbolt lock. When they were installed, on both front and back doors, and he showed me how to use it, I had to laugh at first. I suddenly saw myself as that mother in the movie, The Others, locking and unlocking a door she needed to go through as she went through the house.

But after I saw just how it worked in keeping the baby from unlocking the doors himself, I wasn't laughing anymore. It was like the clouds clearing from the sky and a chorus of angels singing, "Hallelujah!"

They worked. The deadbolt locks did the trick. No more worries of the baby getting out the doors while we slept or when no one noticed, because now those doors had locks on them he could NOT unlock! HOORAY!!

And for the first time in a long time, I finally got a good night's sleep. I hope there will be many more...if this insomnia I am just recently dealing with ever goes away. I guess sleep and I just don't mix.

But at least the baby won't be able to slip out the front door while we sleep anymore. wow, that felt so great to say. I want to say it again! The baby will NOT be able to slip out the front door while we are sleeping anymore.

As long as we keep that door locked. Always locked.

Throwing caution at the wind

I keep saying how my parenting experiences with Jesse are so different than what I went through during Jennifer's early years. Today I was reminded of just how different.

Today, I wanted to take Jennifer out to PlayLand while I got pictures printed. Somehow, Jesse figured out we were getting ready to leave. He ran to get his shoes, held them up and happily said, "Bye bye!"

My heart sank as I frowned at him. "No, Jesse. No bye bye."

At this point, Jennifer suggested I take him with us. After all, at the age of 2, he was now old enough to go into PlayLand.

Of course, I perished the thought. I told her there was NO WAY I was leaving him in there. She reminded me of how it was so hard for me to leave him at the nursery at church the first time, and of how he was just fine when I picked him up again. I told her this was different. Don't ask me how, it just was!

All this time, I was comfortable with the decision to wait until he's 3 to take him to PlayLand. I mean, he's not even potty trained yet! But now this decision was being challenged.

Jennifer promised me she would look out for him, that she would take care of him. I just wasn't ready to leave an 8-year-old in charge of my baby. But at the same time, I told her it didn't matter. I didn't feel good about leaving him in the care of a stranger. With Jennifer, as a baby she was left with a parent or relative if I had to go somewhere. I don't have any family here in Eugene and not a friend who I trust enough to leave my children with (not anymore). The people who work at PlayLand are just wonderful but what if they couldn't handle a 2-year-old? He was still so small! And he has temper tantrums; were they ready to deal with that?

I finally told Jennifer, "I'm not ready to throw caution at the wind with you kids."

First she wanted to know what "caution" was. After I explained, she assured me things would be okay.

I finally gave in. "All right, but I'm going to stop by and check in on you two." And that's what I did, too, when he was in there. He was fine, really. He ran and played. I could see him laughing. He looked like he was having so much fun. He even sat at a bench with Jennifer and the caregiver as they all colored together. (I think she got tired of me asking "is he ok? is there any trouble?" She kept telling me he was fine.)

Later, after I got the pictures printed and bought dinner, I collected my children and was soooo relieved to have my baby back with me. Yes, I got through it and, yes, he really WAS fine. But it was so hard to be away from him during those 55 minutes. I wasn't able to tell if I'd be willing to do that again. Um, maybe next year.

Sure I'm willing to throw SOME caution to the wind, when it comes to my children. I do that every day I drop Jennifer off at school (and say a little prayer that she'll be okay and deal with missing her later on in the day). And I do that when I leave the kids with their dad.

I'll let them go sometimes. But just a little bit. And only for a short while.

Weekend fun

I had plans for Saturday that we would have some "family time" and just all do stuff together, since all of us RARELY do stuff together. But hubby's friend came over and he wanted to go have coffee with him. It was important to me that we do family stuff and I wondered if we could move it to Sunday. I had to call one of the places on the itinerary first to see if they were opened on Sundays and, finding out that they are, I said, "OK, we'll do the family stuff tomorrow, then."

Before hubby could meet with his friend, though, he had to run some errands. One of those errands was to take Jesse for a haircut. (Later, after seeing the curls gone, I started to cry. I loved those little curls!) While he and Jesse were getting ready to go out, me and Jennifer were getting ready to go out. Jen and I would have our "mother and daughter" day like last weekend. Woot! I told Jen, "The men are going in one direction and the girls are going in another direction." With two boys and two girls in the house, we often say stuff like that. "The boys are asleep and the girls are awake." "The boys are watching TV and the girls are reading books."

I will post "before" and "after" pics soon. It's hard to get Jesse to sit still long enough for a decent pic!

I will also post another pic soon. I ordered a "Knight Fever" tank top. It arrived on Saturday. And, oh my gosh, it is AWESOME!! They only have it in "large" and I was worried it would be too big. (I don't like wearing loose tank tops.) But it fits really well. Not loose at all. It's not all glittery like in the picture. Just a normal cotton tank top. "Knight Fever" has glitter on it, as shown in the picture. I asked to have the name "Jonathan" put on the back, like with my other "Knight Fever" shirt. And now to get one more!!! LOL I want to get the red one. Maybe I should go with Jordan's name this time.

Anyway, our first stop was the library. While there, I saw the book QUERY LETTERS THAT WORKED! Real Queries That Landed $2K+ Writing Assignments by Angela Hoy. (A shout out to Angela!) I also got a book on book publicity, and another one on poetry. Jen left the library carrying a stack of nine books. Sniff, I was so proud.

After the library, we headed over to Sweet Life. Jen got a chocolate cupcake (yay for chocolate!) and I got a canoli. I've never had one before so I wanted to try it and see what all the fuss was about. (It was gross. YUCK!!) Then I took her to PlayLand and, while she was there, I did a little reading and a little shopping. One of the things I got was a BIG notebook for Jennifer, because she draws and writes so much, she keeps running out of paper! So I got her MORE paper and the latest issue of National Geographic for myself. (I'm an armchair traveler. LOL)

After PlayLand, it was time to do the "boring" stuff. We took the car to the car wash then got some groceries, as well as pizza for dinner. At the store, I let Jennifer get a Redbox movie. After dinner, I bathed Jesse and put him to bed. Jen and I both read books while waiting for the baby to fall asleep, then we watched the movie, Hotel for Dogs. I thought it was such a cute movie. Jennifer started to cry when the brother and sister, who were in a foster program, were separated. She kept telling me she would NEVER leave her little brother. She never wanted to be separated from him. She just bawled her heart out over that. I hugged her and assured her that her dad and I made arrangements for her and her brother to ALWAYS be together if something happened to us.

After the movie, she went to bed and I watched an episode of Trading Spouses that I'd DVRed earlier in the week. Then it was MY turn to cry and get upset, when the little boy was so sad over his mother leaving for a week. It made me want to run to the baby's crib, pick him up and hold him really tight! Every time I watch a show like that, I keep thinking I could NEVER leave my babies for a whole week. I'd probably spend all that time thinking about them and missing them!

Sunday morning, I woke up with a huge headache. I wanted to just stay in bed (and lie there mumbling "my head is pounding, pounding, pounding") but I knew I had to get up and get the children fed, dressed. I finally managed to get out of bed and just felt sick. (I blame the canoli!) I took some Tylenol but when my headache went away, I had serious stomach pain. GAH! Darn canoli. I wasn't feeling so great because of that stomach pain and I was worried we'd miss church. When I finally got to take a bath and get dressed, the stomach pain just got worse. After my bath, I said a short prayer that the pain would lessen or go away so that we could go to church. I ended up feeling well enough to go, even though we arrived there really late. But at least we were there! And it was so good to see my "friends from church" there, too.

After church, we went to the bookstore and got some magazines. We also bought Jesse a new cloth book. I can't buy him board books; he tears them up! Eek!

From the bookstore, we went home and just relaxed. Hung out. Watched some TV. Did a few chores (laundry, changing ALL the sheets on the beds -- which is a weekend ritual even if the sheets are not dirty! -- vacuuming and dishes). When we finally ready to go to have our family outing, we went to Roaring Rapids Pizza Parlor to make a reservation for Jennifer to have her birthday party there. (Yay! We'll have so much fun!). Then we went out for ice cream at Cold Stone Creamery.

Overall, it was a fun weekend. Now to relax some more because fun time is coming to an end. Tomorrow is Monday -- time to get up early again and get back to work!

Kids!

This morning, Jesse got me up early. I have grown used to getting little sleep because of his erratic sleeping patterns (he woke up three times last night! UGH!) but I was still exhausted when I got up with him. I was stumbling around, changing his diaper and making the coffee and getting him his breakfast. I suppose I have to get used to this; school starts in 3 weeks! I have been trying to get Jennifer back onto a "school schedule" in preparation for this. And me on a new schedule, as well. But it's slow going.

When the kids were having breakfast this morning, I introduced Jesse to Honey Nut Cheerios. He LOVED it and kept signing "more." Haha. It was cute. But he didn't love it as much as Instant Breakfast drink, which Jennifer had with her toast. I decided to go ahead and give him some of that since that's about the same age Jennifer started drinking it with her breakfast (at that time, I'd received my mother-in-law's encouragement to give her that drink and it took some doing to measure it correctly because she threw it up the first time I gave it to her. Ever since, we've used the pouches and I mix it all in a tumbler instead of a regular-sized 8-ounce cup.) He drank all of his then, when it was not offered after he signed "more" (because he already had 2 full cups of milk!), he tried to drink Jennifer's and she kept trying to get her cup from him. No fun trying to stop him from crying and throwing a tantrum over not getting more Instant Breakfast drink. I felt guilty denying him more --since after all, he only had half a cup!-- but I had hubby's complaints over Jesse being fat hanging over me. I believe that a chubby baby is a healthy baby. Jennifer has always been a string bean and Jesse has always been chubby. And he's a boy! Boy babies are usually more chubbier than girls.

But, anyway. That's for a whole 'nother blog post.

My muse was on fire today. I'm trying to get three assignments done before the end of the month and have pretty much avoided writing anything else until then. So I was feeling guilty after I wrote an article this morning. One of the things I have due is a short story and, in my defense, at least the article was about writing short stories! Still, I felt bad. I was cutting back on other things to get these projects done. Bad writer for writing something else! But I remembered how we should take something bad and turn it into something good. So I decided I must be in an article-writing mood today. Maybe I can get my article (which is due) written up. But I didn't have an idea for what to write about. I've been tussling with this all week. What to write. What to write!

Finally, I figured out what to write. Yay! But before I could even put pen to paper, Jesse got stuck when he was trying to climb into the kitchen table chair. His arm and elbow got stuck in the slat. I was trying to get his arm free but no luck. Meanwhile, he was twisted around on the chair and in pain. "Jennifer, go get Daddy! Hurry!" I turned to call to my daughter. After she ran to get her father, I once again tried to get Jesse's arm free but I couldn't do it without hurting him. His dad came and took over. Both Jen and I were agonizing over Jesse crying so bad as his father worked to free his arm. Finally, when his arm was free and it was determined he was okay, we sat with him, holding him and giving him kisses as we tried to soothe him. (I have been on hubby's case about getting padding for the backs of those chairs to cover the slats. This is not the first time Jesse's arm got stuck in between them! He's also gotten his arm or leg stuck in the slats of his crib, despite crib guards. AAH! I hate that sort of design on furniture! I once saw a photo of a baby who suffocated after sliding through the slats of his crib, at the bottom of the railing, and that picture haunts me to this day.)

Later, Jesse took his nap on the couch and I wrote up the article.

One thing Jennifer kept doing today is going to the computer to play her game. (She's hooked on Mario Brothers.) And I had to keep reminding her it was not time to play her game yet. I was like, "First you have to eat breakfast. First you have to get dressed. First you have to wash up. First you have to brush your teeth and hair." She eventually got frustrated with all the interruptions and logged off. Which was a good thing, since she also had to clean her room!

I have Jen signed up for karate now (technically, Jeet Kune Do) and she got all excited about going to class today. We ended up getting there late because of a lot of running around (something Jesse was happy about, since he LOVES going "bye-bye." Every time I pick up my keys, he runs and grabs his shoes!). When I reminded her of her class today, she got all hyper and started doing karate kicks. We'll see if that excitement will last!

Before karate, though, we had to go to the store and the store we went to has a bunch of people there who knew me when I was pregnant with Jesse. It is always so mind-blowing to see them act around Jesse like they have known him FOREVER. Well, I guess technically, they have! But it's still so interesting! They say things like "he's getting so big" and "it's nice to see him again" and I think it's really special to have that sense of familiarity. I know I may not feel like I'm a "part" of Eugene and don't have REAL friends here, but that kind of familiarity people have with my children just really helps to ease the stress and anxieties of being so "alone" here. As it is, one of the mothers at the karate class approached me and said she knew about Jennifer because her son goes to the same school.

I just really had to think, you know, through my children, I am able to meet new people. Have some kind of "familiarity" with where we live. And build up relationships with others simply because of who my children are and what they do. It really is interesting and even reassuring. I am hoping this will mean I'll be able to have a friend to hang out with our send emails back and forth with.

Anyway, I digress.

After karate, we came home and just hung out. Then we decided to go for a walk. It was still daylight and the weather was beautiful. So we walked down to the market and bought some goodies. When we had dinner later and I was in the kitchen getting our plates ready, Jesse let me know he was hungry by making the sign for "eat." I thought that was really cute.

Later, after I gave Jesse a bath, I was sooo tired once again. I was dressing Jesse and forgot to put the lotion on him before I put on his clothes. Just as I was about to dress him, he said "Mama, Mama" and made his own home sign for the lotion (a rubbing motion on his chest). I thought that was neat and told Jennifer. She was surprised and said, "He's the smartest baby in America!" Maybe I'm bragging, but...I think so, too.

There's a new writer in da house!

Somebody pinch me. Or, wait a minute. Don't pinch me. Not yet. First, allow me to dream of MENSA memberships, graduation from Yale and the discovery of a cure for AIDS, or something.

My son, who is 22 months old, wrote his first word today. His VERY. FIRST. WORD! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!!!!

Jennifer has been "helping" her little brother express his creative side with crayons and colored pencils. We always monitor him when he "draws" a picture that is actually a bunch of squiggly lines and stuff. Just to make sure he doesn't try to eat the crayons or shove them up his nose.

One thing Jennifer has is a Doodle Pro with an attached writing tool on it. It's the kind you can erase pictures on. It looks like this:



She has that one and a bigger, fancier one. Anyway, Jesse has been using that, too, in his exploration of his creative side. In addition to an Etch-A-Sketch. But he was doodling on that one today. And...somehow or another...DO NOT ask me how...he wrote the word "DAD"!!! In all capitals letters!

My husband saw this. He had this baffled look on his face as he showed it to me.

At first, I teased him. "You did that!" I joked.

"No, I didn't."

"Oh, come on. That was you," I teased.

He grew very serious, like I was accusing him of lying or something. "No, it wasn't."

"Then you HELPED him do that!" I teasingly accused.

"He just did it by himself!" he protested.

I froze. No way. NO. WAY! "Oh, my God," I said. "He REALLY wrote that??"

Husband shrugged. "He just drew something that looks like the word 'dad'."

Oh, sure, hubby. And I just "drew" something that you can actually read in a book.

But I did not see it as some accident. I saw it as a real, actual word that my son wrote. The way I see it, he wrote the word "dad"! Maybe he can't read that word (or can he??) and maybe he doesn't understand that he WROTE a word. But you know what? In my eyes, he wrote his first word! My 22-month-old son wrote his very first word! Yay!

My celebration was short-lived, though. I wanted to take a picture of this moment. To cherish it. To fantasize about what a GENIUS he will grow up to be. To send it to EVERYBODY in the family so that they can go "wow" about it, too!

But I can't do that now.

Because my husband ERASED IT! GAH!!!

Oh, well. Jesse has been playing around with that thing all day. Here's hoping that we'll get a repeat. If we're lucky, he'll write "mom" next.

Outgrowing the crib

The other day, I caught Jesse trying to climb out of his crib. I didn't think he would be able to do it. And, truth be told, I didn't think he would be able to do that until he was at least 2 years old. That's how old Jennifer was when she started to climb out of her crib.

But guess what?

It's happened. It has actually happened, before he turned two!

I did not see it happen the first time. I never actually saw him climb out of the crib. But this morning after my shower, I walked back to the bathroom to get the sunblock and...there he was. In the bathroom! Yikes! I gasped. My heart froze. And I said, "Jesse!" It kinda scared me but I'm glad I caught him before he got hurt.

So I told my husband about this. "Jesse is climbing out of the crib now." Little did I know what adventure awaited us because of this recent development.

We could not get him to go to sleep for his usual naptime because he climbed out of the crib. Again. And again. And again.

It was very frustrating. My husband just decided that, you know, Jesse won't be taking anymore naps during the daytime. We had a disagreement about this. I was raised on the belief that a child stops taking naps when turning 3. Everyone, and I mean EVERYONE, in my family told me that. "He's 3 now. No more naps." It was like some milestone. (Even though there are, of course, teens and adults who catch the occasional nap.) I told him, we can't rule out naps completely. He acknowledged this and said, "Okay, if he falls asleep, great." I guess we can't designate his crib as the place to take naps anymore. He could fall asleep on the couch, on my bed or even under the table! (Jennifer was known to crawl into the cabinets where I kept canned goods and fall asleep in there when she was a toddler.)

So now we have this challenge of Jesse climbing out of his crib. And WHAT a challenge it is! First of all, like Jennifer, he is a night owl. He is VERY active and prefers to stay up at night and sleep in in the mornings. Second, he is ACTIVE! It is hard to get him to calm down enough for a nap.

This evening was proof of that. He kept climbing out of the crib when we put him to bed. At 10:00 at night. He just WOULD NOT go to sleep. I was very frustrated by this and trying to figure out what we can do to fix this problem. (Despite being a night owl, Jennifer NEVER climbed out of her crib at nighttime. She always stayed in there and went to sleep!)

My husband, however, was very patient about this. He just kept picking Jesse up and putting him back into his bed. Again and again. Time after time. He didn't yell at him or anything. Just quietly and patiently kept putting the baby back into his bed. I was very impressed by this.

I am going to still look up how to manage this situation. I think Jesse will still benefit from at least one nap a day. And I'll have to figure out how to curb this problem of him constantly getting out of bed so that we can instill good bedtime habits and he will stay there and go to sleep.