The Burp Rag Chronicles

In All Seriousness

Imagine, if you will, a calm, peaceful family enjoying lunch on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Everyone is laughing gaily at discussions, jokes and funny faces.

See is talking to Daddy about the importance of nuclear fusion in the suns output of solar energy when Ess interrupts, "See! See...! What do you get when..."

See holds her splayed-finger hand in a "talk to the hand" motion and replies, "Ess... I busy."

It took Daddy and I a moment to realize what she said. What 25 month old says this stuff???

The Argument

"See, I wanted the red Jojo washcloth!"

"NO! No Ess! Mine!!"

"See, I had it first!! Give it to me!"

*unintelligible screams and cries of anguish and frustration*

"See, here is the purple one - I want the red one! Here, take the purple."

"No, Ess!!! Mine!!!" *garbled cries, followed by splashes of water back and forth, and eventually giggling*

"I love you, See."

"I wuv you tyoo, Ess."

*pause*

"Let me see your butt, See."

I wish that I could document all the little things the girls say in their everyday non-sequiter life. 

If you must know, just prior to getting in the bath tub, See had a giant mess in her diaper so her backside was a bit red. I guess Ess wanted to see how it was doing or something - it was just an odd set of phrases. 

* * * * *

When I was young, I watched Bill Cosby - Himself. Even as a young child, I thought he was so ridiculously funny. No swearing, no nasty bits... just life. Funny, ironic, hilarious life.  

All children completely have brain damage. I firmly believe this. Every day of my life I generally wander around trying to make snacks or make meals for these short people, constantly yelling at someone to not yell at the other one (yes, I recognize the irony here). I shoo shorties from the kitchen area, they weave in and out of my legs as I try to shuffle the boiling pot of water to the sink to drain the pasta. "GET OUT OF HERE!! I will tell you when the food is ready!!"

Yeah, that works for approximately three minutes before someone else comes up to me asking what I am doing or when the food will be done. 

Brain damage, I tell you.

So if you haven't seen this video, go rent it. Or shoot, buy it. It's cheap and it's flippin' hilarious. Parents will especially appreciate it, and probably relate to 90% of the stuff in there.

Babelish

S was not a talker. I know you may find that hard to believe because she pretty much goes at it nonstop now, but seriously. Her pediatrician thought she might have some speech issues because she didn't talk. We taught her some sign language and that helped her communicate better, but she was a late talker.

C is pretty on-target. She says mama, dada, no, ew, yah, poop (sounds like pop), sssss (for sissy, what we call S and vice versa), apple, water. She signs quite a few things like milk, eat, cracker, all done, banana, hat, bird, love... and probably some other things I can't rightly think of at the moment.

But she also babbles. And when I say babbles, I mean she is seriously having a conversation with you and you need to understand her. 

C: Blarsh fleeps pshhh mayambls snewwnup.

Me: You know, I thought that at one time, too.

C: Shwlui hniao blasumb wiaps hhbniwm.

M: Really? I hadn't thought of it that way!

C: (with urgency) Schneeop nisdenmth!

M: Ooh! Let me get right on that, ma'am!

This girl babbles like it's her own language of Babelish, and this is a foreign thing for me. I've never, ever used "babytalk" to my girls. I find it annoying and stupid. I'm not saying I haven't talked regular English in strange Mommy-tone, but it's always been real words. And never, EVER the word "snookum-kins."

So tonight we had read our story (Sandra Boynton's Hey! Wake Up!) and she was just laying on me, drinking her milk and chatting away with me. I think I heard her mention something about taking the car out for a spin by herself tomorrow but having issues reaching the pedals - but I can't be quoted on that, it was a little jumbled since she was tired.

So I brushed her teeth, without incident (a feat in and of itself!), and turned out the light. She babbled through both of these activities as if to say, "Sorry, Mom. You are not going to get me to shut up! Hah!"

I laid her down in her bed, covered her up with her super soft minky blanket, stroked her head and hair, and whispered "Goodnight, baby bird."

Then she did the sign for bird to me.

There are few things in this world that melt my heart like that. The best part of watching a baby grow, in my humble opinion, is watching them make those connections. That "mama" isn't just a word, that it is someone. That the sign for "banana" isn't just arm movement, it's a fruit that they love. It's sitting at the table, starting dinner, and turning to me and saying "Dadaaaa!!" when she hears the front door unlock and Daddy step through the threshold.

Welcome to parenthood, enjoy the ride.

Brain Damage

Bill Cosby talked about children having brain damage. I'd laugh and laugh, thinking, "Haha, it sure is funny that his kids are dumb!!" Never once thinking it applied to me, nor would I ever be in the situation where this would not be funny.

It's not funny anymore.

I am now officially convinced that children are brought into this world by unsuspecting adults who think that that small wiggly bundle of joy they bring home with them from the hospital will always be that way. So what do we do? The first one gives us trouble and we think that God can not possibly punish us two times in a row, right?

WRONG. Wrong, wrong, WRONG.

God does have a fantastic sense of humor, and a little bit of an axe to grind with us humans. See, we're not his brightest creation at times. When Eve bit the apple and got everyone the big boot, God said, "I hope you have children just like you!" Thus the parental saying was born. Need I point out Cain and Abel? Not entirely a parents' shining moment.

And it continues. It haunts every parent since the dawn of time. We are continually cursed with children like us.

Or, as in my case, we get cursed by our mother-in-laws to have children like our spouse. ;-)

Yesterday we went to Sea World to spend the day at the water park. S wanted to use five tickets she'd earned doing chores to go to a Fun Place, so yay! Water park!! We start out in the 1' deep kiddie splash pool that Cam... well, she doesn't HATE it, but she really doesn't like it either. So her and I spend the majority of the visit hanging out on lounge chairs under a shade umbrella, with periodic jaunts into the water, followed by a splash in the face from another kid (accidentally) and retreating back to aforementioned chair.

J and S went to ride some water slides and play in the bigger kid pools, etc. At one point they come back and S is splashing in the kiddie pool with some other kids, and I see her running around the outside. Opting to NOT scream across the crowded pool, she eventually stops without my words (must have been The Look I threw her). A few moments later I see J holding both girls and approaching me with a little bloody Hitler.

Now, I have no idea what she actually did. She insists she wasn't running, but we all kind of know how that goes. What baffles me is how she got her upper lip, bridge of her nose and her chin, but not the tip of her nose. HOW did this girl fall???

Fast forward to today.

Hey! Let's send the kids out back to play, get sweaty and dirty! Okay!

C has recently taken up the precarious sport of ladder climbing and furniture scaling. She climbs to the top of the ladder that is adjacent to the monkey bars. Goes all the way to the top rung, and I get her down. After about trip #5 she gets to the top and - wait for it - promptly accelerates toward the earth at a whopping 9.8 m/s². Oddly, she landed on her feet and fell to her butt. So I imagine that hurt her legs a bit.

We head toward the porch, snuggle, I check her over and give her a sippy cup. Nothing broken, nothing painful. Woohoo!

I put her down to play in the sand table, and she immediately heads right for the ladder again.

*sigh*

Then when we came inside for me to start making dinner... it was pretty much nonstop crying and harassing me about... well, who knows what.

Let's just say that I am pretty happy that the day is just about over. Time for me to go to bed, dental appointment in the morning followed by picking up the van and some other things. *yawn* Wish me luck!

Damn you, Eve. DAMN YOU.

I'm Not So Self-Assured

I have high expectations of my children. I do, it's in my nature. It doesn't help that S is smart and above her expected abilities for her age.

Lately we've had issues at her Mom's Day Out program (which I tend to call "school," so forgive me if I do that from here forward). In the last few weeks I've been pulled aside by her teacher(s) when I pick her up saying she had all sorts of problems from making other kids cry, to yelling at teachers, to just defying things she's asked to do.

This is new territory for me. S has always been compliant and willing to play, do as she's told (for the most part, every young child has their moments, you know) and be helpful. I thought everything was going as expected until one day last month her teacher pulled me aside and said something that broke my heart.

"Some other parents have complained that S has made their kid cry by saying they are not her friend." During the conversation, I was told that Syd was doing this and things quieted down when she was talked to at one point. Then apparently it got so bad tha tkids were going home crying and telling *their* parents they didn't want to come to school because of Sydney. Then, the parents complained to the teachers. When they can NAME my child as the problem, I have concerns.

Initially I was annoyed, because kids will be kids. They often get in to little squabbles and so-and-so is not their friend now but is the next day.

But as I was stewing in this conversation on the way home from pick-up I thought, "This is NOT like S. She is not one to make other kids cry. She's not a name-caller, a hitter, or a mean kid."

Then I got irritated because they should have told me the first time it happened so I could address it THEN.

We took away her new Magic School bus videos that she SO cherished. She cried, I told her that they would be earned back when she could behave at school and be nice to her friend. She was to earn them back today. I got a note in her project folder today.

Right then, I knew it was a bad day. Whenever you see a postcard that says, "A Note From Your Child's Teacher", with "Dear Mrs. So-And-So" on the back... it's not a good sign.

Basically the teacher asked her to come over to the balance beam for activities and S said "No." She was asked again, and again said, "No!" The teacher approached her and put her in Time-Out, and S started screaming and yelling. The teacher tried talking to her about it, to calm her down, to which S just turned her back and kept screaming and crying and saying she wanted out of Time-Out.

So on our way out to the van, I asked her if there was something she wanted to tell me.

"No, Mommy."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep!"

She bounds into the van, gets into her car seat and buckles up. "Are you sure there isn't anything that happened at school today that you want to tell me about?"

"Nope!" she says, looking puzzled. Then she blabbers on and on about something they colored in class.

"S, your teacher talked to me about your behavior in class today. Was there an issue with the balance beam and you screaming and yelling?"

"Oh."

"Tell me what happened."

"Nothing," she says sullenly.

"Why did you tell your teacher 'no' and yell at her?"

"I don't know."

And this is where I start to get frustrated. Every time I confront her about something at school, her usual answer is "I don't know" or "I wasn't listening." Even if those answers don't fit, it's her go-to response. I find it incredibly frustrating.

So I told her to go lay down when we got home, and put Cam down for her nap. I asked her about the situation after her nap, and got the same responses. I still don't *really* know why she did what she did. But Tuesday she is going to go to class and apologize to the coach for her behavior.

And we're going to take away her Littlest Pet Shop toys for a week.

*sigh*

I'm going to assume this is normal 4-year-old behavior. It makes me worried that she is not ready for Kindergarten, is she going to keep having these maturity issues? Is this how EVERY kindergartener like this??

I think I just felt my hair turn gray again. So much for the dye job.

Pilgrimage

So J made his annual pilgrimage to Las Vegas for the National Association of Broadcasters convention. I am not going to my Physics class tomorrow so that I can take S to her gymnastics class - it's hard to take BOTH girls and I am not saddling my mom with that chore. Plus my dad wanted to change the oil in J's car, so maybe when we're done we can take it over so he can do that.

Final exams are swiftly approaching - my first available one is the end of April for my Algebra exam. Since it's an online class we can go any time that fits between April 29th and May 5th. I am leaning toward earlier rather than later only because that entire week is bogged with finals - Tuesday is A&P Lab final, Friday is A&P Lecture final, Saturday is Physics final. If I get Algebra out of the way that leaves me more time to focus on Anatomy, which is my toughest subject. And the Lecture is probably the hardest of the two.

I am staying up a little tonight so that I can work on my Algebra review for a test due by Monday at midnight. If I do it in pieces it's not SO overwhelming. There are 60 questions and while we don't have to do it, I like to because it's pretty realistic of what is on the test. Plus I make notes to myself on the sheet for easy reference, rather than flipping through my notes.

Let's see... what else.

I get to go register S for Kindergarten on Tuesday! She is so excited, and I kind of am, too. I figure I will keep Cam at home for another year or so (time will tell) and then work on finding her a Mom's Day Out program. I love the one Syd is in because it's perfect for her (active!). But the kids have to be potty trained and C may not even be into that. Though she already likes to get down into a somersault position and have one of us gently roll her over. Ahh, who knows.

Anyway, Kinder registration on Tuesday morning. So I will go to my class that morning, learn about the nervous system, then hightail it to the school to get her in. Our subdivision is so large that some of the kids will get piped to another school, and I really want her to go to the one practically in our back yard.

Monday I can register for my Summer classes, then on the 19th I can register for my Fall classes. Thankfully there won't be another semester like this one, I only have a few prerequisites left and I can't even apply to the sonography program until next May. I probably could have crammed in all the pre-req's with the exception of A&P II, there is no way to get that in and still make it in time this admission year. But that's okay. I figure C will be 2.5 by the time I can start the program in Fall 2011, and hopefully close to being potty trained or something. And hopefully then I can get some sort of either daycare or Mom's Day Out set up for her. The program is full-time, so generally every day of the work week. This semester worked great because I take classes on days that either my mom or J can watch the girls. Might not get so lucky next time.

So, there you have a bi-weekly update. That's really about all there is to my life... school, sleep, children, husband, cooking, cleaning, laundry. What an exciting life, I tell ya. ;-)

Coming Up For Air

Smells kind of funny in here, someone should open the windows. Air the place out/

Alright, it's been a touch over a month since I updated (J has posted a couple times, but I have not), but it's not without good reason. I've been hellabusy since going back to school, and combining that with children, homework, life, and other things like that... well, you know. I swear I have a great entry in my head and plan to blog about it after the girls are in bed, and I just... forget. Or fall asleep.

Classes are going well! I had a rocky start, but I am going to chalk that up to being a little rusty. It's been a very long time since I took three (four if you count Anatomy Lab and Lecture as two different class, which they should be considering we are nearing the end of the semester and they are just now beginning to sync up!) and the speed at which they go is ridiculous. I'm old and they need to go slower.

So the report card at this moment is a B in both Anatomy classes, A in Physics and A in Algebra. I can handle all of those as a final grade, although an A in everything would be better. Finals are the first week of May, so you may not see much of me between now and then.

The good news: I won't have this heavy a course load until Fall 2011, providing I get accepted into the sonography program next Spring. I have about three more pre-requisites to wrap up, and I would like to take a photography class for fun. I enjoy it and I'd like to better learn how to do it. :)

Cameron is walking, like full-on walking. I'd say she probably walks 50% of the day now. She's not saying a whole lot but she sure does point like a pro. She's also come down off a bottomless pit binge, and is now refusing to eat so many things. But, she won't starve. I have to repeat that to myself when she throws her sweet potato pits on the floor or turns her nose up at the Baby Mum Mum she so loved the previous 5 months.

Sydney is learning more and more reading, and shows a lot of interest in science shows and stories. Her recent love is The Magic School Bus and Sid the Science Kid. Both of which I am totally okay with. We had to curb Spongebob shows because her attitude was starting to STINK, and since we've cut it out her attitude has been MUCH better. Thank goodness, I was about to lose my mind.

We register her for Kindergarden on April 12th, and she is so excited. We live about 3 blocks from her school and when we take a walk as a family in the evening, she always asks if we can walk by the school (she rides her bike). She's going to love school, just like twice a week she loves Mom's Day Out. She got very upset when it was Spring Break and there was no school. ;-)

J is doing fine, too - he's gearing up at work for NAB in Las Vegas in April. I hate it when he is gone for a week, but it's part of the job, I suppose. :P These last few weeks of school for me are spaced with breaks for Fiesta, Easter, etc. but unfortunately none of them are when he is gone. So... wheeeeee. :P

But, we muddle along. At least with the new health care nonsense that has passed, I can be happy that it does come with job security for me in the form of 32-million or so extra patients that will need care. Woot!

Never So Alive

Sydney said two things yesterday that had me rolling with laughter.

First, after we came home from gymnastics, it was a lovely day.  A little chilly, but plenty nice enough to go out and play.  So I took Cameron and put her in her baby swing and Sydney swung on the long double swing thingy beside us.  She's learned how to pump and get herself going really high - which is great for me since I don't need to push her anymore.

So I'm swinging Cameron and Syd's swinging high to the sky when she yells, "DAAAAD!  I'VE NEVER FELT SO ALIVE!!!"

Man, I about died.  I tried to get her to say it again on video, but it always sounded forced.

Then later that night after changing Cameron's diaper, the two girls and I were still in Cam's room when I said that Cameron was "a smart cookie."

Sydney replied, in that semi-patient, condescending tone that her future husband will grow to loathe, "Dad, she's not a cookie!  If Cameron was a cookie, she would eat her own self and then you'd only have ONE kid!!"

I don't know from whence the child's wellspring of creativity flows, but I sincerely hope she's able to leverage it in her career path.

The Art of War

"The general who wins the battle makes many calculations in his temple before the battle is fought. The general who loses makes but few calculations beforehand."

- Sun Tzu, "The Art of War"

I knew this day was coming, therefore I was prepared for it. I did not expect it to come this early; nevertheless, I was not caught unawares.

The first shot in the battle of wills was a fountain of tears from a little girl's bedroom.

"Would you go in there and tell her to stop that?" my wife said, indicating the agonized wailing filling the house.

We're just minutes home from H-E-B, the local supermarket chain, with our weekly consumer foraging.  On the trip home, both children had fallen asleep.  Mommy had taken supertiny to her room for a nap, which was well underway. Big Tiny - a.k.a. Biggie Smalls - a.k.a. Sydney - was also in need of a "rest", since she would be going to church with Grandma later.

This did not sit well with Stubborn McBullhead. 

I go into her room and rationally explain to her that she needs the rest so she doesn't fall asleep at church, that she doesn't have to sleep, she just needs to rest and stay in her room. None of this pleases her, but it stops the wailing and derails any further meltdown.  I leave the room, telling myself (but not her) that as soon as we're done sorting the groceries away, she can come out.

With the food mostly parceled and placed, I go in to retrieve the small one.  I am greeted with an ugly face and an absolutely abhorrent attitude.

"I'm just going to run away from home and not live here anymore."

Oh yes she did.

It was maybe a month or so ago that I'd been having the discussion with someone about this.  The consensus was that the most successful strategy for dealing with a threat of this magnitude was to call the bluff.  That's what my mom did.  That's what Lynn's mom did.  That's what all the other parents with which I had conversed had done, and had experienced themselves.

And thus it had come to pass in our home.

"How come?" I asked.

"Because I'm not going to be your friend anymore."

"Okay, then," I said.  "Would you like me to help you pack?"

There was a moment's hesitation - just the briefest flash - before she consented. 

After that moment, everything started happening so fast, I can only remember feelings and impressions.  I retrieved her backpack from the front entryway and informed her mother of the situation.  With a big smile on my face.  I went back in to her room, where she remained obstinately on the bed. 

I asked her if she would like me to pack her some panties?  She did.
Socks?  Yes.  Pants, shirts? Yes, yes.

While this is all happening, I'm maintaining a very somber, disappointed countenance, but am completely committed to my charade.  She, on the other hand, is starting to show signs of second thoughts.  She breaks down in wracking sobs, "I'm really gonna miss you guys!"

"We're going to miss you too!"

But she still insists that

1. She's not going to live here anymore.
2. It's because I'm not going to be her friend anymore, which is because:
   1. She's not going to live here anymore, because
   2. I'm not going to be her friend anymore

Extrapolate that, you get a nice big circle, of course; hey, we're dealing with a four year old. 

I hand her her backpack, and we walk to the hallway.  I get my shoes on and tell her I'll walk her out.  She's not sobbing anymore, but is still crying pretty hard.  She says goodbye to Mommy, who is putting on one hell of an act.  Mommy says she'll miss her, and goodbye.

We go outside and walk down to the sidewalk in front of our house.  She's still crying.  I ask for a kiss goodbye, which I get.  And a hug. 

I ask where she's going.  Her first thought is her friend Skylar's house, but then she decides her main objective is Grandma Sandy's house in Oklahoma.  It's pretty far, but I point her in the direction - roughly north up the sidewalk. She wants to take her scooter, but I tell her she can't - if she's not going to be here anymore, the scooter will be for Cameron.

Eventually, off she goes.  I think this image will be burned into my head forever.  Her tiny body in her new blue-and-brown dress, with her oversized Dora backpack, striding purposefully down the street, pausing every 30 feet to see if I'm following.  I'm not.  Every time she looks back I just wave. 

She makes it about three quarters of the way to the end of the street before she stops and turns around.

"DAD! COME WITH ME!" she yells.

"NO! I LIVE HERE!" I shout back.

"BUT IF YOU DON'T COME WITH ME I'LL BE LONELY!"

We shout back and forth more of the same for awhile, but eventually I wave her back.  She runs - full throttle - back to the house.  So fast I worry she's going to trip and fall and the whole exercise will be derailed by injury. 

But she makes it back, where she continues trying to get me to come with her because she'll be lonely if I don't come.  I say I'm sorry, but this is where I live and I'm not running away.  I ask her where she's going to eat and sleep.  She's not sure.  But eventually I tell her that if she's going to get to Grandma Sandy's she better start now or it'll get too dark (hey, eventually she'll get it, but for now the parameters of the exercise are determined by the bounds of her knowledge and experience.)

I think she got a little more frustrated this time, event though she insisted she was going to miss us so much; when she left, she ran up the street.  She stopped again, though, like she'd hit some kind of psychic forcefield, in the same place. 

"COME ON, DAD, COME WITH ME!" she shouts.

This time, I pull out the big guns:  I wave back at her, turn, and walk back towards the house.  The message is clear - this isn't a game.  I'm not following.  I'm going on with my life without her.

In reality, as soon as I'm behind the Escape, I duck down and try to watch her through the windows. What I hear is an anguished scream - like when you turn the life sucking machine up to 50 - mixed with the sound of small shoes running back towards me.

"DAD! NO! DAD!" As soon as I feel like she might be able to spot me, I bend over and pick up a rock, then toss it in the hole where the bouganvilla used to be.  As she approaches, I turn and look back as if surprised to see her. 

About that time, the garage door opens and Mommy comes out, ready to plant our new climbing roses in place of the old thorny bouganvilla.  This time Syd wants to take her bike, but no, we're giving that to Cameron, too.

We go around and around about how much we'll miss her and how sorry we are that she feels that she has to go, but that she should probably get a move on, until the words we were waiting for:

"I'm not gonna run away anymore, guys..."

At that point, the love opens up, we're all smiles and celebration.  I ask her if she wants to go unpack her bag.  She breaks down sobbing, but nods.

We go into her room and I just hold her and rock while she cries, but I tell her how happy we are that she's staying.  Eventually she gets all the cries out, and we unpack her backpack and come back out to join Mommy.  The new rosebush is in and Mommy goes to get a bucket of water for it.  "Can I watch you water it, Mommy?"

"Of course!"

"Okay, but don't get any water on my new pretty dress!"

Afterward, Sydney and I start to trim out the plumbago - the original intent is to yank it all out, roots and all. We thought it was dead! Turns out there's new stuff growing just under the surface.  So I cut and the two of us start stuffing the old dead stuff into a trash can.

And what a change. This girl is 100% sweetness and light.  She cycles phrases like a pull-string toy from the 50's.

"I really love you guys!"  "I'm so glad I'm going to stay here!"  "I would have missed you guys so much if I left!"  "I really love helping you, Daddy!"  "This is so much fun!" 

Seriously, I was turning diabetic from all the sweetness.

But it all worked out in the end.  The rest of the evening went much better, she was good at church for Grandma, and now she knows to be careful what she wishes for.

Because she just might get it!

Exactly

Mommy captured a great expression today. :)