The best toy ever--an empty box.
Silly boy and his silly daddy.
Trying on Tatum's cycling hat.
He finds himself as funny as I do!
Just being his normal, goofy self! :)
Saturday, September 4, 2010
Cult of Personality
The best use I've gotten from my psychology degree is being a mom. I revel in watching each and every new development of this growing little person. When he poops in the potty, I'm beside myself with wonder. When he cracks a joke, I can't believe he's sharp enough already to have such a firm grasp of humor. When he chooses words that I had no concept he understood, I am dazzled by the quickness of his young mind. I've probably unintentionally gained a reputation as a braggart mom by constantly talking up my young son, but I feel no desire to compete. I just am genuinely bowled over by watching the learning and growing process here in my own home!
I should probably read more advice books about raising toddlers, because I do find myself in a pit once in a while in this experience. Yesterday, I went to lunch with three other mommies and their children of similar-age to Paxton. My child was the only one whining, shrieking, crying real tears. The others all seemed either preoccupied with their toys or just a bit shell-shocked at the lunchtime crowd and new environment. When I put myself in Paxton's place, I think about how overwhelmed I get in crowded places and also how prone to breakdowns I am when I'm hungry, tired or just out of my element. He has my temperment, and I'm sure my nervous nature in situations like that is just contagious to my little shadow. I think because I have issues of embarrassment at my own tempermental behavior, I get a little extra worked up by Paxton's.
I have a subscription to Parent's Magazine and I read recently that parents have to set their expectations of their toddlers at realistic levels. We can't realistically expect them to sit content for an hour-and-a-half meal at a restaurant. And we get further confused, because once in a while, they will! We think, if they can do it once, why won't they do it every time? And, to be honest, I have a few friends who take their kids out to eat several times a week, and their children seem to be perfectly capable of behaving properly throughout the meal. Either due to his level of energy or to our lack of enforcing the rules, Paxton's not there yet.
That's another thing I've noticed--how other moms lay down the law. I tend to talk to Paxton like he's my peer. I reason with him, negotiate, distract him. I embrace his frustration and vent my own. This was always just what came naturally to me, and I do think it has had some positive impact on certain aspects of his personality. But watching Paxton's teacher guide her own son toward good behavior has been enlightening. Consistency has never been my strong suit. I think Paxton has had time out twice in his life, and I'm fairly certain he didn't feel punished while he chatted away in his little red time out chair. I hope that he and I can both pick up some positive discipline tips from his experience at school. We're both learning as we go through all this!
Despite all my moans and groans about the difficulties of parenthood, I stand by my statement that it's the greatest thing I've ever experienced. Paxton is the light of my life. He's hilarious, intelligent, sweet, curious and loving. He is his own person, trying on different personas here and there to see what fits best. I so look forward to seeing his journey into being a big brother. And I look forward to watch the unique personality of baby #2 emerge day by day. I feel so honored to be a part of this process with my sweet family!
I should probably read more advice books about raising toddlers, because I do find myself in a pit once in a while in this experience. Yesterday, I went to lunch with three other mommies and their children of similar-age to Paxton. My child was the only one whining, shrieking, crying real tears. The others all seemed either preoccupied with their toys or just a bit shell-shocked at the lunchtime crowd and new environment. When I put myself in Paxton's place, I think about how overwhelmed I get in crowded places and also how prone to breakdowns I am when I'm hungry, tired or just out of my element. He has my temperment, and I'm sure my nervous nature in situations like that is just contagious to my little shadow. I think because I have issues of embarrassment at my own tempermental behavior, I get a little extra worked up by Paxton's.
I have a subscription to Parent's Magazine and I read recently that parents have to set their expectations of their toddlers at realistic levels. We can't realistically expect them to sit content for an hour-and-a-half meal at a restaurant. And we get further confused, because once in a while, they will! We think, if they can do it once, why won't they do it every time? And, to be honest, I have a few friends who take their kids out to eat several times a week, and their children seem to be perfectly capable of behaving properly throughout the meal. Either due to his level of energy or to our lack of enforcing the rules, Paxton's not there yet.
That's another thing I've noticed--how other moms lay down the law. I tend to talk to Paxton like he's my peer. I reason with him, negotiate, distract him. I embrace his frustration and vent my own. This was always just what came naturally to me, and I do think it has had some positive impact on certain aspects of his personality. But watching Paxton's teacher guide her own son toward good behavior has been enlightening. Consistency has never been my strong suit. I think Paxton has had time out twice in his life, and I'm fairly certain he didn't feel punished while he chatted away in his little red time out chair. I hope that he and I can both pick up some positive discipline tips from his experience at school. We're both learning as we go through all this!
Despite all my moans and groans about the difficulties of parenthood, I stand by my statement that it's the greatest thing I've ever experienced. Paxton is the light of my life. He's hilarious, intelligent, sweet, curious and loving. He is his own person, trying on different personas here and there to see what fits best. I so look forward to seeing his journey into being a big brother. And I look forward to watch the unique personality of baby #2 emerge day by day. I feel so honored to be a part of this process with my sweet family!
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
School-bound!
Paxton's first day of preschool was today!
I have been contemplating putting him in a preschool program for a while now, but nothing felt right for us. I am an overprotective mommy who keeps my little guy by my side all day. I know his unique personality, and I worry that his tendency toward emotional breakdowns will be frowned on by an adult who doesn't already know and love him. He's also so used to constant interaction that I worried he would feel ignored if he asked a question that wasn't given a response. I know, I know--cut the apron strings, Shannon. Likely, having him away from me would be a bigger transition for me than for him, but still, nothing felt quite right.
Then I learned that another mom I know was opening a preschool. She is a certified teacher with a specialty in preschool education. Her son is exactly one month older than Paxton. The school is located at a church that Paxton is familiar with, because we frequent their playground and attend Stroller Strides classes there. To top it all off, a few other friends expressed an interest in enrolling their children, too. That meant that Paxton would already know a few of his classmates! It all seemed to be falling into place perfectly.
Unfortunately, since the school is brand new in the community, enrollment wasn't what Abbey hoped for. With her son, there would only be four children, total. On the plus side, though, none of these children had ever been in a preschool setting before, and Paxton knows every one of them. I have no doubt that the school will grow with time, and this small group will be a great starter set!
Paxton was beside himself with excitement. He was so eager to put on his Elmo backpack this morning and carry his lunch box. He ran out the door shouting, "Let's go to school!". Needless to say, he didn't exhibit any separation anxiety when I eventually went to say my goodbyes. He was more than happy to dive into the new experience!
The school is just two-days-a-week, from 8-2:30. For the first week, the kids go home at 12:30, just so the parents and kiddos can adjust to the experience. I picked him up and he was excited to see me, but in no rush to head home. When I asked him what he did today, he said "We washed our hands". Apparently there was a lot of hand-washing. The teachers filled me in on some more of the day, telling me that they played outside, painted, and showed the kids' their names on the board. Add into that potty breaks, snack breaks and lunch, and you've got a pretty fun four hours! Although we ended the day on a low note (Paxton screaming "Let's go home!" because I wouldn't let him have a second one of Abbey's birthday cupcakes), he was barely outside the building before he asked to go to school again. I know he'll be ready and eager on Thursday morning! We both will!
It turns out that this separation wasn't nearly as hard for me as I might have expected. I felt completely comfortable with Paxton's care and attention with his teachers and friends. I was excited for him to have a morning filled with fun, new activities geared specifically to him and his age-group. I was eager to have some alone time at the house to focus my attention on my constant to-do list. And although everyone asked me if it was hard to see my baby grow-up, that didn't come into my mind. He is still just a little guy. I know that this school is a choice we are making for the good of both of us. Kindergarten will probably throw me for a loop, but I console myself by remembering that that's still far away, even if I know the time will fly!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Aw, Nuts!
Paxton had his first emergency hospital visit this weekend. As far as emergencies go, this one was fairly tame, fortunately. We were in and out in a day and, aside from the important duty of catching up on lost sleep, he was back to normal in no time flat.
It all started last Tuesday. Paxton was sitting in his high chair, enjoying some snacks. I had just given him five cashews. After more than two years of keeping nuts strictly out of his grasp, I was finally easing him into a few here and there, still terrified that a nut allergy would surface. Before he finished the second cashew, he began coughing and choking. I ran to him and, seeing my shock, he laughed. Then he started coughing again. Then laughing. I couldn't tell if he was legit or up to his old toddler tricks. Finally, the coughing fit passed and wheezing began. Just a gentle wheezing, but it was with every breath. Concerned, I gave him a Benadryl and we went about our day.
The wheezing continued through Wednesday and that evening, Chris suggested I call the doctor to get it checked out. I'm so used to doctors rolling their eyes at the excessive worries of first-time moms that I was hesitant, but thought it wouldn't hurt more than my pride to make the call. Apparently, wheezing is something that doctors want to investigate immediately. Oops. We were on day two of the Great Wheeze of 2010. We made our morning appointment and saw the P.A. who checked Paxton's oxygen levels (98%) and gave him his first breathing treatment (we made it through that by singing "Popular"). Still concerned about the wheezing and my tale of the cashew choking incident, we were sent for an immediate x-ray in San Marcos.
Thankfully, my mom was able to accompany us, because I wasn't allowed to be anywhere near the room due to my pregnancy. They x-rayed Paxton's throat and lungs and found nothing. We went home, wheezing all the way.
Still not convinced, our doctor sent us to Austin the next morning to get a CT-scan. Let me just interject by saying that, by this point, I was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. My pet sitting schedule was jam-packed on Friday and I started to additionally worry about the fact that Paxton was not allowed to have anything to eat or drink for four hours before his CT-scan. That meant he could have a filling breakfast, but his fallback requests of hourly cereal bars and ice water would go unfulfilled. Maybe it seems like a small thing, but the thought of telling my 2-year-old he couldn't have water just seemed cruel. No amount of logic would make sense to a toddler in that scenario. On top of that, the nurse warned me that if Paxton couldn't stay perfectly still for two-15-minute CT-scans (her words), they would have to sedate him. ACK!
Again, I brought my mom along with us for the CT-scan. Her presence is usually much more calming with Paxton than Chris'. Chris is Paxton's playmate. Just this morning, at my OB appointment, they pushed each other around the room on the doctor's rolling stool. I didn't see how that level of excitement would help Paxton stay still for 30 minutes. I brought along our travel DVD player and Paxton watched Elmo the entire drive into Austin. He barely looked up once, so he definitely wasn't angling for cereal bars and water. Whew!
The CT-scan operators saw us quickly and corrected the nurse's mis-information. Apparently the two tests last only about two-minutes each. That, Paxton could do! I felt sure of it. He still has tremendous respect for authority, so I knew he could pass this test with flying colors. My mom and I waited outside the room, me because I am pregnant, and my mom, just as an additional measure of safety. Paxton got a little overwhelmed and began to cry toward the end of the first scan, so my mom joined him for the next one. He really did great, and talked all day about the Bob the Builder sticker he was instructed to look at. The technicians rewarded him with a strip of dinosaur stickers and a giant coloring book.
I had a cereal bar and some ice water all prepped and waiting for Paxton when we got in the car. He ate them happily, and, rather than stopping for a filling lunch, we drove home so he could get a much-needed late nap. After dropping my mom off, I got a call from Paxton's doctor. The technicians saw something in the CT-scan. They couldn't tell what it was, but there was a definite shading in his right lung, indicating a foreign object in there. The pediatrician wanted to see us immediately. I picked Chris up and dragged my sleep-deprived son to yet another doctor's appointment.
By this time, I was close to losing it. I was tired, hungry, worried about my son and still wildly overscheduled. When the doctor told me that we needed to head back to Austin to admit Paxton into Dell Children's Hospital for a surgical procedure that night, I just started to cry. I wanted to postpone the procedure until the next morning, allowing Paxton to get some sleep and some food in his belly. By having the surgery that night, it meant that effective immediately, Paxton could not eat or drink anything. Again, this concerned me more than almost anything else. The doctor told us to go home, pack a bag and do my pet-sitting, and then head to the hospital to check-in. Lacking any other options, I followed her orders.
We were admitted through the emergency room and then began a long process of waiting. First we waited in the waiting room, then in a small room with a bed and a t.v. in the emergency room area. We were bored stiff, and exhausted, but well taken care of. A group called Child Life, which makes sure children in the hospital are comfortable and provides them with age-appropriate toys, brought three small boxes of legos, plastic animals and a Mr. Potato Head for Paxton. He gamely checked them out while various medical professional came in and out, inspecting him. When they decided that surgery was the best option, another Home Life worker came in to talk to him about getting an IV. She used a doll to demonstrate. After all the weeks Paxton has watched me "give da blood" for this pregnancy and the last, he was kind of excited. They put numbing lotion on two possible IV-spots. Then they decided that he would be sedated before the IV ever went in, so it was a moot point. By this time, I'd lost all track of time, but probably within two hours of when we arrived, Paxton was in his hospital gown and wheeled off to surgery with his Curious George and his favorite blanket.
The doctor warned us that the procedure (going down his throat with a scope to find and retrieve the nut) could be a lengthy process. The estimate we were consistently given was "one hour". But the brooding surgeon laid out the worse case scenario that involved the nut dissolving into pieces and the procedure having to be done two days in a row to retrieve all the fragments. With that knowledge, Chris and I nervously retreated to yet another waiting room and said a prayer together. Then, having been deprived food myself since morning, I ran next door to Chipotle to get us all some dinner. Before I even arrived at the restaurant, Chris texted me. "It's out," he said. "Paxton is in recovery". Praise God! That was fast! I got our food and rushed back.
Paxton was just coming out of the anesthesia and we were taken to him. He was crying and confused, but felt much better when he got the first of three post-op popsicles. In no time, he was chatting away, albeit hoarsely. He had a monitor on his finger to check oxygen levels and heartbeat, and his IV-was attached to his hand. They had to put a big splint over it to ensure that he wouldn't pull it out. Still in his hospital gown, he looked a bit pitiful.
He was put in a big crib that had plastic sides above the bars, so there was no chance of a child flinging himself out. They wheeled him to his room and we got him settled in for the night. Chris and I stepped out to eat our food and let him rest. Perhaps the three popsicles cursed those efforts, because the kid was wide awake. After we ate, Chris started to doze off and snore like a monster. I went back and forth on how to handle it as we're wedged into our little sofa bed with plastic sheets and pillowcases (seriously). Finally, at midnight, I sent him home to Wimberley so we could all get a better night's sleep. From that point on, Paxton's refrain was "Where Daddy go?"
It was a long night. Paxton's monitor kept coming off his toe, setting off alarms. Then his IV got wrapped around his neck and shoulders. That set him off sobbing. The night nurse came in often to check his vitals, and he'd easily strike up a conversation with her about how his Daddy was at work in Austin, and he took the Corolla, or about how his Ya-Ya and Paw-Paw live in Oklahoma and we're going to visit them there. At one point, she asked if he needed any water and he said, "no". She then asked if there was anything at all he needed and he paused before saying, "um...a sucker?". He's an opportunist. I was glad she resisted his cuteness and put that off for later.
Aside from the lack of sleep and the nurses misplacing our orders to go home, it all went great. Paxton was crabby and clingy for a couple of days after, but I credit this to being tired. For a first emergency, this one went pretty well. I just hope we don't have another anytime in the near future. Maybe when I offer nuts back into his life when he's, oh, 15...
It all started last Tuesday. Paxton was sitting in his high chair, enjoying some snacks. I had just given him five cashews. After more than two years of keeping nuts strictly out of his grasp, I was finally easing him into a few here and there, still terrified that a nut allergy would surface. Before he finished the second cashew, he began coughing and choking. I ran to him and, seeing my shock, he laughed. Then he started coughing again. Then laughing. I couldn't tell if he was legit or up to his old toddler tricks. Finally, the coughing fit passed and wheezing began. Just a gentle wheezing, but it was with every breath. Concerned, I gave him a Benadryl and we went about our day.
The wheezing continued through Wednesday and that evening, Chris suggested I call the doctor to get it checked out. I'm so used to doctors rolling their eyes at the excessive worries of first-time moms that I was hesitant, but thought it wouldn't hurt more than my pride to make the call. Apparently, wheezing is something that doctors want to investigate immediately. Oops. We were on day two of the Great Wheeze of 2010. We made our morning appointment and saw the P.A. who checked Paxton's oxygen levels (98%) and gave him his first breathing treatment (we made it through that by singing "Popular"). Still concerned about the wheezing and my tale of the cashew choking incident, we were sent for an immediate x-ray in San Marcos.
Thankfully, my mom was able to accompany us, because I wasn't allowed to be anywhere near the room due to my pregnancy. They x-rayed Paxton's throat and lungs and found nothing. We went home, wheezing all the way.
Still not convinced, our doctor sent us to Austin the next morning to get a CT-scan. Let me just interject by saying that, by this point, I was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed. My pet sitting schedule was jam-packed on Friday and I started to additionally worry about the fact that Paxton was not allowed to have anything to eat or drink for four hours before his CT-scan. That meant he could have a filling breakfast, but his fallback requests of hourly cereal bars and ice water would go unfulfilled. Maybe it seems like a small thing, but the thought of telling my 2-year-old he couldn't have water just seemed cruel. No amount of logic would make sense to a toddler in that scenario. On top of that, the nurse warned me that if Paxton couldn't stay perfectly still for two-15-minute CT-scans (her words), they would have to sedate him. ACK!
Again, I brought my mom along with us for the CT-scan. Her presence is usually much more calming with Paxton than Chris'. Chris is Paxton's playmate. Just this morning, at my OB appointment, they pushed each other around the room on the doctor's rolling stool. I didn't see how that level of excitement would help Paxton stay still for 30 minutes. I brought along our travel DVD player and Paxton watched Elmo the entire drive into Austin. He barely looked up once, so he definitely wasn't angling for cereal bars and water. Whew!
The CT-scan operators saw us quickly and corrected the nurse's mis-information. Apparently the two tests last only about two-minutes each. That, Paxton could do! I felt sure of it. He still has tremendous respect for authority, so I knew he could pass this test with flying colors. My mom and I waited outside the room, me because I am pregnant, and my mom, just as an additional measure of safety. Paxton got a little overwhelmed and began to cry toward the end of the first scan, so my mom joined him for the next one. He really did great, and talked all day about the Bob the Builder sticker he was instructed to look at. The technicians rewarded him with a strip of dinosaur stickers and a giant coloring book.
I had a cereal bar and some ice water all prepped and waiting for Paxton when we got in the car. He ate them happily, and, rather than stopping for a filling lunch, we drove home so he could get a much-needed late nap. After dropping my mom off, I got a call from Paxton's doctor. The technicians saw something in the CT-scan. They couldn't tell what it was, but there was a definite shading in his right lung, indicating a foreign object in there. The pediatrician wanted to see us immediately. I picked Chris up and dragged my sleep-deprived son to yet another doctor's appointment.
By this time, I was close to losing it. I was tired, hungry, worried about my son and still wildly overscheduled. When the doctor told me that we needed to head back to Austin to admit Paxton into Dell Children's Hospital for a surgical procedure that night, I just started to cry. I wanted to postpone the procedure until the next morning, allowing Paxton to get some sleep and some food in his belly. By having the surgery that night, it meant that effective immediately, Paxton could not eat or drink anything. Again, this concerned me more than almost anything else. The doctor told us to go home, pack a bag and do my pet-sitting, and then head to the hospital to check-in. Lacking any other options, I followed her orders.
We were admitted through the emergency room and then began a long process of waiting. First we waited in the waiting room, then in a small room with a bed and a t.v. in the emergency room area. We were bored stiff, and exhausted, but well taken care of. A group called Child Life, which makes sure children in the hospital are comfortable and provides them with age-appropriate toys, brought three small boxes of legos, plastic animals and a Mr. Potato Head for Paxton. He gamely checked them out while various medical professional came in and out, inspecting him. When they decided that surgery was the best option, another Home Life worker came in to talk to him about getting an IV. She used a doll to demonstrate. After all the weeks Paxton has watched me "give da blood" for this pregnancy and the last, he was kind of excited. They put numbing lotion on two possible IV-spots. Then they decided that he would be sedated before the IV ever went in, so it was a moot point. By this time, I'd lost all track of time, but probably within two hours of when we arrived, Paxton was in his hospital gown and wheeled off to surgery with his Curious George and his favorite blanket.
The doctor warned us that the procedure (going down his throat with a scope to find and retrieve the nut) could be a lengthy process. The estimate we were consistently given was "one hour". But the brooding surgeon laid out the worse case scenario that involved the nut dissolving into pieces and the procedure having to be done two days in a row to retrieve all the fragments. With that knowledge, Chris and I nervously retreated to yet another waiting room and said a prayer together. Then, having been deprived food myself since morning, I ran next door to Chipotle to get us all some dinner. Before I even arrived at the restaurant, Chris texted me. "It's out," he said. "Paxton is in recovery". Praise God! That was fast! I got our food and rushed back.
Paxton was just coming out of the anesthesia and we were taken to him. He was crying and confused, but felt much better when he got the first of three post-op popsicles. In no time, he was chatting away, albeit hoarsely. He had a monitor on his finger to check oxygen levels and heartbeat, and his IV-was attached to his hand. They had to put a big splint over it to ensure that he wouldn't pull it out. Still in his hospital gown, he looked a bit pitiful.
He was put in a big crib that had plastic sides above the bars, so there was no chance of a child flinging himself out. They wheeled him to his room and we got him settled in for the night. Chris and I stepped out to eat our food and let him rest. Perhaps the three popsicles cursed those efforts, because the kid was wide awake. After we ate, Chris started to doze off and snore like a monster. I went back and forth on how to handle it as we're wedged into our little sofa bed with plastic sheets and pillowcases (seriously). Finally, at midnight, I sent him home to Wimberley so we could all get a better night's sleep. From that point on, Paxton's refrain was "Where Daddy go?"
It was a long night. Paxton's monitor kept coming off his toe, setting off alarms. Then his IV got wrapped around his neck and shoulders. That set him off sobbing. The night nurse came in often to check his vitals, and he'd easily strike up a conversation with her about how his Daddy was at work in Austin, and he took the Corolla, or about how his Ya-Ya and Paw-Paw live in Oklahoma and we're going to visit them there. At one point, she asked if he needed any water and he said, "no". She then asked if there was anything at all he needed and he paused before saying, "um...a sucker?". He's an opportunist. I was glad she resisted his cuteness and put that off for later.
Aside from the lack of sleep and the nurses misplacing our orders to go home, it all went great. Paxton was crabby and clingy for a couple of days after, but I credit this to being tired. For a first emergency, this one went pretty well. I just hope we don't have another anytime in the near future. Maybe when I offer nuts back into his life when he's, oh, 15...
Friday, April 16, 2010
Like Mommy, Like Packy
Paxton's memory stuns me. I bought him a book two days ago and have read it to him twice. I don't generally read the title, as a rule, when I read him a book. Apparently, though, I must have said the title at some point, because when I went to get him out of bed this morning, he held up the book and said, "See, Mommy? Counting Kisses". Sometimes Chris and I are convinced that he can read. We have no recollection of teaching him so many things he knows.
Because he's so curious and ready to learn, I make it a point to tell him the correct information that he's asking about. He now knows that the three flags outside our neighbood entrance are the American flag, the Texas flag and the POW flag. He knows that girls have vulvas and boys have penises. He knows the difference between a construction truck and a telephone repair truck. There's no question that being his mom has made me more informed. Because he cares about the details, I do, too.
He's starting to use his imagination more and more. For months, he has been pretending that a french fry is a plane or a cookie with a bite taken out of it is a number six. He's been creating active little worlds for his cars. He enjoys driving them down the "road" and parking them in the "lots". Lately, he has started telling me things he did "last night". "Packy rode a big boat last night!". "Packy saw a big rig last night". I don't know if he's actually recounting dreams he had, or if this is a new game he's making up. Regardless, it's fun to hear about his nighttime adventures.
Anyone who knows Paxton would likely describe him as "emotional" or "dramatic". The kid is always the fastest one in any group to have a meltdown. I think he's prone to overstimulation, for one. And I'm sure I've fed into recognizing his breakdowns and giving him attention for them. But he's also sensitive to others. I'm seeing this more and more. At Tatum's birthday party, he doted on her. He put his hands out to catch her when she came down the slide, and when she fell, he helped her up and brushed her off. He loves his friends. When Harper is here, Paxton always makes sure that I get them both milk or a treat. Today, I hit my leg at the store and Paxton said, "Momma, you okay?". I love the nurturing side of him.
We haven't really begun a strict discipline system for Paxton. For most things, I'm able to explain to him why what he's doing in inappropriate. We will soon have to sit down and instigate a 'time out' penalty so he can really grasp when something is unacceptable. Currently, I find myself giving him a deadpan stare when he's working my last nerve. For some reason, he finds this utterly hilarious. He now stares right back at me until one of us cracks up like we're giddy teenagers. It's become something of a game for us, and though some people would surely frown on letting my 2-year-old get the better of my disciplinarian stare, I love sharing a good belly laugh with him more than anything. I should worry that my toddler and I have the same sense of humor, but I've never been known for acting my age.
Plus, it's clear Paxton has a great mind. And we all know that great minds think alike.
Because he's so curious and ready to learn, I make it a point to tell him the correct information that he's asking about. He now knows that the three flags outside our neighbood entrance are the American flag, the Texas flag and the POW flag. He knows that girls have vulvas and boys have penises. He knows the difference between a construction truck and a telephone repair truck. There's no question that being his mom has made me more informed. Because he cares about the details, I do, too.
He's starting to use his imagination more and more. For months, he has been pretending that a french fry is a plane or a cookie with a bite taken out of it is a number six. He's been creating active little worlds for his cars. He enjoys driving them down the "road" and parking them in the "lots". Lately, he has started telling me things he did "last night". "Packy rode a big boat last night!". "Packy saw a big rig last night". I don't know if he's actually recounting dreams he had, or if this is a new game he's making up. Regardless, it's fun to hear about his nighttime adventures.
Anyone who knows Paxton would likely describe him as "emotional" or "dramatic". The kid is always the fastest one in any group to have a meltdown. I think he's prone to overstimulation, for one. And I'm sure I've fed into recognizing his breakdowns and giving him attention for them. But he's also sensitive to others. I'm seeing this more and more. At Tatum's birthday party, he doted on her. He put his hands out to catch her when she came down the slide, and when she fell, he helped her up and brushed her off. He loves his friends. When Harper is here, Paxton always makes sure that I get them both milk or a treat. Today, I hit my leg at the store and Paxton said, "Momma, you okay?". I love the nurturing side of him.
We haven't really begun a strict discipline system for Paxton. For most things, I'm able to explain to him why what he's doing in inappropriate. We will soon have to sit down and instigate a 'time out' penalty so he can really grasp when something is unacceptable. Currently, I find myself giving him a deadpan stare when he's working my last nerve. For some reason, he finds this utterly hilarious. He now stares right back at me until one of us cracks up like we're giddy teenagers. It's become something of a game for us, and though some people would surely frown on letting my 2-year-old get the better of my disciplinarian stare, I love sharing a good belly laugh with him more than anything. I should worry that my toddler and I have the same sense of humor, but I've never been known for acting my age.
Plus, it's clear Paxton has a great mind. And we all know that great minds think alike.
Friday, April 2, 2010
More Random Cute Stories About the Boy
- Today, Paxton and I were walking one of my client's dogs and we were noting the numbers on the mailboxes. Although he can count to twenty, he has some trouble matching the numbers with the names. He called fourteen "four", and I pointed out that it was "fourteen". He then called thirteen "three", and I again corrected him. When we got to 12, he hesitated and said, "that's twelve-teen". Oh, so cute!
- He's added to the list of cars he knows. He now can recite that Amy drives a "Skip-burban", George drives a "Civic", and Nana drives a "Focus". I still don't know how he can spot a Corolla from a mile away. I drive one and it still looks like every other car to me.
- Often, when he naps, I spend a little time getting some things done around here, and then for the last 1/2 hour or so, I lay down for a nap of my own. I have the monitor on so I can hear when he wakes up. The other day, almost as soon as I lay down, I heard him start to stir. I tried to ignore him and grab a few minutes of sleep. Then I heard him quietly start to sing a song from Music Together. He sang it quietly and slowly. "This train is bound for glory. This train is bound for glory. This train is bound for glory. Children get onboard. No more weepin' and a-wailin'. No more weepin' and a-wailin'. No more weepin' and a-wailin'. C'mon children, get onboard." I can't ignore my child singing old gospel songs. I just can't.
- We went to the mall for Paxton's annual picture with the Easter Bunny this week. He got to hang out with the bunny and chat him up a bit while we were waiting for his pics to process. We had a nice lunch. Did a little shopping. He played with the toys at the Children's Place. We even had Dippin' Dots for a dessert. The highlight of the whole day for him? Riding the "escavator". I was a little nervous getting on it with him. He, however, loved it. We may have to go to the mall more often just for that experience!
- We got an iPhone a couple of weeks ago, and per the suggestion of my friend Amy, I bought some toddler-friendly apps. There are some flashcards, some songs, some animal pics that will make the sound of the animal when you tap them. But what he likes best is an app that quizzes toddlers on everything from numbers and letters to colors, animals and vegetables. He loves it! I realize I'm going against everything I hold sacred by making him at video game kid at this tender age, but I reason that he's learning things while he plays. He can identify an eggplant, a firefly, upper and lowercase letters and any number. He still struggles with colors. I know now that he isn't colorblind, but it just isn't his strong suit. Watching him do those quizzes is just dizzying. He picked it up so quickly. This is the future. We start them out as tech whizzes as toddlers. It's stupefying.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
St. Patrick's Day 2010
Using his Bumble Ball to alter his voice.
A tired boy and his festive mommy.
His annual St. Patty's Day picture with a well-dressed Irish representative.
Handsome Daddy and his handsome boy.
With the last of our St. Patrick's Day energy, we entertained ourselves at dinner.
The Latest Musings of a Mother in Love
More cute tales from the world of Paxton...
- This week, as I was driving home from Stroller Strides with Paxton, he suddenly piped up from the back seat with the lyrics to The Black Eyed Peas "Boom Boom Pow". He sang, "I've got that boom boom pow, those chicks are jockin' my style". He wasn't doing it to make me laugh, but of course it cracked me up. As I was laughing uproariously, he decided to keep the fun going. "TA-DA!!!", he shouted. While I continued to laugh, he capped it off with "JENGA!" for good measure. He knows how to make him mommy laugh.
- Speaking of "Mommy", he has decided that he will now call me "Momma". I have no idea why he made this change, but it almost makes me feel like I have a different kid. It's so cute. I love that he just makes these changes randomly and without explanation. Keeps me on my toes.
- Since I call Chris by his name often, Paxton has picked up that that's one way to get Daddy's attention. The other morning, he was coming down the stairs and the gate was latched. He couldn't get it open, so he called out, "Daddy! Daddy! CHRIS!". He knows he can get a rise out of his Daddy when he pulls out the big guns. I've recently taught him that my name is "Shannon", but I'm hoping he doesn't start using it.
- When we went to the Austin Zoo a couple of weeks ago, we cut into Paxton's naptime. Because of that, he wasn't on his best behavior when it came time to leave. Rather than cooperating and coming along to the parking lot with Carmen, Harper and me, he ran the other way toward a planter that looked interesting. A family came up behind him and inadvertantly startled him. I went over to get him and the family was apologizing for scaring him. I took his hand and led him to the exit. The family walked in the same direction. He looked at the woman and said, with an edge of desperation, "I'm sorry, lady!". She practically melted and told him that it wasn't his fault. He knows how to work it to get what he wants.
- Paxton's capacity for language constantly amazes me. I make a point to teach him the proper words for things that he takes notice of. He's very interested in learning the correct names. If we're in Walmart and he spots someone who looks interesting, he asks me what the person's name is. If there's a singer on the radio he enjoys, he asks for that person's name. He asks by saying, "Momma, this one? This one? Name?". I always tell him. Tonight, while I was laying him to bed, he said, "See Momma? Bra. Momma's bra". I think I have told him the word "bra" twice in passing. And yet he is able to pull that information out when he needs it. He's incredible.
Having Paxton in my life is a source of constant amazement and amusement. Every day is better than the last. We're so lucky to know him and love him!
Thursday, March 18, 2010
It's Impossible to Take a Posed Group Shot of Four Exhausted Toddlers
Henry, Harper, Paxton and Tatum--the "gang".
Paxton's Actual Second Birthday
He has a much warmer reception to cake than he did a year prior.
Chris picked up a little cake for us to all enjoy on Pax's actual birthday.
Daddy helped Paxton open his gifts.
The View Master was a big hit.
Once again, he pulled some serious gift on his special day!
Playing Catch Up
Rarely do I disappear from blogging for months at a time. But it's been a strange few months. In late October, Chris and I conceived a baby. We conceived spontaneously, but went through our fertility clinic to ensure that we could maintain the pregnancy. I had to do blood draws once a week to check my HCG levels (unusually high) and progesterone (too low). When Paxton and I would pull up at the blood clinic, he would say, "Mommy give da blood". I don't think this kid will be scared of needles, since he saw Mommy get poked with them about a dozen times. My doctor had me on progesterone suppositories to maintain my levels, and had us in for two ultrasounds that showed the baby was thriving. Our first visit with my regular OB revealed that the baby's heart had stopped beating. I was about 11 weeks at that time. After a week of waiting for my body to miscarry on its own, I opted to have a scheduled D&C. They were able to test the fetal tissue to reveal that the baby had a condition called Turner's Syndrome. That means that there was a problem with the sex chromosomes. It's apparently one of the most common causes of miscarriages. It's not something that Chris and I passed on genetically, so we have been given the go to keep trying to conceive.
All of that and life in general has occupied my time and thoughts for the last two months. But Paxton has been a constant source of amusement and comfort. His presence has given me such a feeling of perspective and gratitude through all of this. I have enjoyed every moment with him, but regret that I haven't been better at recording his milestones and adorable quirks this year. It's time to remedy that! In the interest of time, let's take a bullet point approach to some of the highlights.
All of that and life in general has occupied my time and thoughts for the last two months. But Paxton has been a constant source of amusement and comfort. His presence has given me such a feeling of perspective and gratitude through all of this. I have enjoyed every moment with him, but regret that I haven't been better at recording his milestones and adorable quirks this year. It's time to remedy that! In the interest of time, let's take a bullet point approach to some of the highlights.
- When anyone asks Paxton how old he is, he always answers "Two in December". He heard me use that answer whenever anyone asked me how old he was. I suppose I should now correct him, but it's so cute to hear him answer with such blaise indifference that he's 'two in December'.
- We've been attending Music Together classes since Paxton was just under a year old. He absolutely loves it. Even when he's having an off day and feels overwhelmed in a group setting, he still gets in the car and promptly starts crooning his favorite tunes, complete with hand motions. "Rig-a-jig-jig", "A-Ram-Sam-Sam", "Pussy Cat, Pussy Cat"--all the toddler hits. And he has such admiration for our teacher, Miss Petra. He tried to imitate her every move.
- Paxton has known all of our many pets by name for a long time. What fascinates me is that he also knows which ones not to mess with. When he sees our cat, Tippy, he tucks his hands against his chest and frees one to just do the smallest wave while he sweetly says, "Hi, Tippy". Wise, because Tippy will scratch the bejeebers out of anyone who looks at him sideways. Soma, however, incites Paxton's full courage. He hugs her, tries to carry her, drags her around by her tail. She would probably benefit from one good swipe at his arm, but I don't think she would ever do something so rude.
- Paxton has a weird photographic memory for cars. It must be a guy thing. He knows that Mommy drives a Corolla, Daddy drives a Tribute, Tizzy drives a Prius, Carmen drives a Scion, and Pa-Pa drives a Mazda 5. He can also point out most of the cars on the street. He excitedly locates Mini Coopers on the highway, and has finally figured out the difference between a "police truck" and a "construction truck".
- While his vocabulary and pronounciation skills are both incredible, there are some words that Paxton stubbornly refuses to alter. For months, he would not call a motorcycle by its correct name. It was always "bicycle". Now he has made a baby step forward to calling it "motor bicycle". And no matter how many times I correct him, he's sure that an American flag is really a "ca-meer flag".
I'll wrap this up for now, but will post more often to catch up on all of the adorable little nuances of our boy's personality. I'll be posting more pictures, too, to further tell his story! Stay tuned!
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