Topics that Matter to Perhaps No One But Me

The Weather

OK, let's be honest, this one probably matters to a lot of people. I am so glad we got some reprieve today. There was actually a cool-ish breeze every once in a while, which was nice, and the air wasn't as think as syrup. I wish the nicer weather had put me in a better mood. But Kindred and I got to spend some time outside this evening for the first time in days and days, and that was great.

Parenting, My Patience, My Kid

I'm not one who spent her whole life dreaming of having children and creating philosophies on how they would be raised. I figured when I married Michael I was off the hook since he had studied all that kid-smart stuff (early childhood development, behavior modification styles, etc.) and if we were to have kids, he would tell me what to do.

It hasn't really worked that way, nor do I still believe it should. But Kindred has been (mostly) a stellar kid and we haven't needed to use a lot of disciplinary tactics. I mean, there was the whole not eating stage, and there have been other challenges, but nothing major.

Now, however, he has started straight up ignoring me. This is a bit shocking. I guess I knew the day would come, but I always thought if I let him explore on his own enough that if I ever needed him to stop doing something that was truly dangerous, he would accept that and stop if I put my foot down firmly enough. Not so. His latest antic is running around the apartment turning fans on and off, sometimes trying to stick his fingers through the holes. Michael and I have tried every method we can come up with the stop this behavior. We have yelled, we have made loud noises, we have spoken softly, we have explained, we have pulled him away, we have signed "No touch!", we have (well, I have) smacked his hand, we have held his face close and said "No No No!" What does he do? He smiles. Nothing phases him. Then he reaches for the knob again. Arg!

I realize time-outs don't necessarily work for Kindred when he is this age. But I feel like they work for me. I have started just picking him up and putting him in his bed for 5 minutes without chooches or toys. He wails the whole time, but at least I'm not grabbing at him or yelling. I began to realize today that those methods were only effective in teaching him that it's OK to yell and grab at someone when you are mad. I know this because all morning he was hitting and pinching me when I wasn't doing what he wanted, and this is all pretty new. I know it isn't entirely my example that's leading him to behave this way, but I don't want to continue to do it when I'm telling him he shouldn't. At least I'm removing him from the situation and removing myself from him. I wish I had more patience. Sometimes I feel like a poor parent. There are some things I feel like I'm good at (and those things generally surprise me), and some things I'm improving on, and I know that learning never stops. But with the thought of another child on the way, I am getting paranoid that my patience is not going to hold up if I'm low on sleep, which might be very likely. (This is a not a call for anyone to affirm me as a parent. I am mostly venting.)

My Kid, the Smart One

When he isn't terrorizing me, Kindred is amazing me. He has started putting several words together to make sentences. Well, sort of sentences. When Michael comes in after work, Kindred says "Dad's home!" When he wants something to drink, or anything really, he'll ask for it with a "yes" at the end: "More juice yesh?" "Go go go out-din (outside) yesh? Yesh." He calls every male he sees besides his father "Uncle", and yesterday he actually said "Uncle Shhh" about our friend Shane who was visiting. When we get near the house in the car, he calls out "Home!" (He knows it from every angle. It isn't like we have a driveway.) When I get him up from sleeping, he points to and names everything he knows in the room. "Fan, light, duck, Pooh, horse, Ba-ba (lamby), bed, goose, mama, airplane, belly, shoes, etc. The best is that he's starting referring to himself: Jid-jid. "Mama, dada, jid-jid," he'll say as he points to each of us, either in person or in a picture he sees. Yep, so smart.

He turned 18 months yesterday.

My Body

After that whole speal about how I was just going to be patient and let this pregancy run its course and not be anxious.... Let's just say the pressure is building. Quite literally. There is more pressure on the front part of my abdomen, enough that I actually thought yesterday the baby might have dropped because I was having so much trouble moving. (He didn't.) I'm beginning to realize that the bigger I get, the less ability I'm going to have to be patient, especially if it stays this hot.

Speaking of bigger, I went to the midwife again on Wednesday, and I discovered that I'd only gained 2 pounds in 2 weeks! Wee-hoo! I'm pretty well on-track with weight gain. I started at 141lbs, and now I'm 168. That's, what, 27 lbs, right? I have less than 4 weeks to go, which means about 4 more pounds, so I think I'll stay on target as long as I don't binge at the end like I did with Kindred. The more unfortunate thing is that the midwife thinks that baby is at about 7lbs. (She couldn't get a really good grip on him since his bottom seems to be under my ribcage.) This means that I'm probably going to have another chunker. (This seems so unfair! There are women who can gain 100 lbs during their pregnancy and still only have a little 7.5lb full-term baby. Why am I destined to have such huge children?)

My Breasts

(Dad's may skip this part.)

On a pleasant note, I think that my breasts aren't as big this time around. My 38E bras are not fitting as well as they did last time. The bras are too big. At least there's something to be positive about.

My husband

He is a good man. He is a busy man. (Kindred has learned how to say "work" and "meeting," and has used them often in the past 4 weeks when talking about his father.) I will probably not see much of him next week, since his show is on Saturday. He works very hard, sweating and sweating, and then he comes home and makes dinner a lot of times. (Last night he made vegetarian cheese steaks.) Then he hangs out with Kindred and plays. Kindred loves to see his dada home. I do too. Good man.

My Chiropractor

Thought you might like an update. Dr. Z (in his bow tie) has been taking pretty good care of me, and Kindred too. He doesn't crack Kindred's back or anything, but he makes sure that Kindred is occupied while I'm lying face-down on the table. Dr. Z loves to dance, and he dances around the room for Kindred every time we're in there. He also gives Kindred soft rubber hammers to play with, and he calls him "Kin." When Kindred removed his shoes and threw them on the floor, Dr. Z sat down and helped him put them back on. He calls me "Mama-san." Today he asked how many days I had left to go, and I said 24. He said brightly, "That means the next time I see you, you'll only have 21 more!" Then we joked about me measuring my due date in number of visits I have left at the chiropractor. I still think he's nuts, but in a good way. (And I haven't yelled at the nun.)