Retail Therapy

Taking a break from the Leo stress.

But just to update a bit: there have been more developments (OK I obviously lied about the taking a break jazz).

The teacher answered my note yesterday inquiring if she'd seen a change in Leo's behavior with the news that yes, he seems to be more aggressive on the playground. Then she asked how he is at daycare. His 1:1 aide (she's there for an hour a day, from the time he gets off the bus through snack and homework time) wrote a note saying Leo has been less cooperative than he was previously [what, like last week?] and gives her trouble about going to bathroom. As an added bonus, he's been throwing toys (I felt like he stopped this two years ago. When did it start up again?)

Awesome.

The aide's final sentence was a stab through a mother's heart:

"Leo is a sweet boy, but I see a change in him."

Part of me is thinking, what the hell? That statement seems a little extreme. A change? Like in a matter of a week?

I'm tempted to check with the others at daycare, to see how Leo has been for them (it's occurred to me that this 1:1 aide might bug the you-know-what out of Leo and that's why he's resisting her). At the same time, I don't really want to borrow trouble with the daycare. If they felt the need to address Leo's behavior with me, they would, I'm sure of it. And yes, I'm the mom who's convinced that every note in Leo's cubby is a letter saying they just can't handle him anymore and we'll have to find another aftercare program for him. I live in constant fear of it, really. As my brilliant friend Amy once said "Isn’t it hard, to never feel like you can just be purely joyful? I always want to acknowledge my fears before someone else does."

What it is that Leo is struggling with (and therefore what we are struggling with)...Whatever it is, I don't know what it is.

How's that for profundity?

Is it a communication issue? Speech? Boredom? Frustration? On the one hand I feel like his speech is taking off. On the other hand, he's acting out. One mom I spoke with recently said she thinks when our kids advance in one area they sometimes regress in another. So, one step forward in speech, a step back towards bullying? I hope not.

His teacher is calling me this afternoon.

In the meantime, in an effort to completely change the subject:

I'm trying to be good. But I really want to get Ellie these.

If only real life was always as simple and cute as toddler boots.

Aargh, Oy, Heavens to Betsy and a Note From the Teacher No Parent Wants to Get

I don't even know where to begin. I've started about fifty posts in my head in the last week but not one has actually become something.

Everyone is slowly on the mend from their various sicknesses (I guess, knock wood). But yesterday morning started with a bang and the hits just kept up on coming. Then there was the call that came later in the day from daycare to come pick Ellie up and the trip to the doctor (with both kids, always fun) to see if she had pink eye (she didn't). But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Ellie awoke at 5:30 a.m. which is code for I Don't Feel Well And Should Probably Stay Home From Daycare (she's normally the teenage sleeper of the house--I wake her booty up at 7:30 almost daily).

Staying home with a little sniffly cutie would have been all well and good except I had a BIG work deadline looming. And honestly, aside from the runny nose and sort of watery eyes, she was fine. Once she woke up and moved around a little and had something to eat and drink, she was in good spirits, her usual chatty, jokey, semi-cooperative self.

So yesterday morning was the usual flurry of ridiculous activity when both kids wake up early. There was me upstairs, speeding to get ready while Leo and Ellie were parked in front of "Sesame Street." Leo protests whenever I put it on (he apparently thinks he's too cool for it) but almost immediately gets sucked into it once a cute Muppet or two appears. Poor Ellie rarely gets to watch it so I try to sneak it in for her at least once a week. I mean, someone has to teach that girl to read, right? (joke).

It was sweet, because Leo knows Ellie loves Elmo. As soon as an Elmo segment came on, Leo called to Ellie, "Ey-yie! Ey-yie! Elmo! Elmo!" and pointed at the screen with excitement, as if she wasn't sitting right there watching the exact same thing he was. But she patiently and enthusiastically received his order to Enjoy Elmo: "Yea Leo, yea. Elmo."

Meanwhile, as I was doing my hair (sounds way more complicated than it is, trust me) I heard Leo calling something to me from the bottom of the stairs, a breakfast request I was pretty sure. It sounded like "duh-duh" which could mean a lot of things--pancakes or French toast, most likely.

When I got downstairs I realized what Leo had been saying, for there on the coffee table in the living room sat a Trader Joe's mini cheese pizza, still in the wrapper but out of the box. This means he had taken a chair, scooted it up to the refrigerator and found his desired meal.

It was barely 6 a.m. but my first reaction to frozen cheese pizza for breakfast was Why the Hell Not? I mean, whatever gets you through the morning, right?

The best part of the Leo Frozen Pizza Incident was that later in the morning when I grabbed a box of tissues from the shelf where we keep the paper recycling, I realized that Leo had actually taken the pizza box and had the forethought to put it in the paper recycling bin! My little environmentalist.

And also, my little bully, apparently.

How's that for a segue? Yesterday I received a note from Leo's teacher in his communication book:

"Two days in a row Leo has taken the glasses of another child at recess and thrown them in the bushes. He has been spoken to about this and asked to apologize, which he has. Yesterday he lost "Center" [free-play] privileges, tomorrow he'll have to sit out recess. Please discuss this with him at home and let him know this is not acceptable behavior."

Not acceptable behavior? I'll say! Where's my hugging teddy bear boy (that's what Leo's pediatrician calls him--I love our doctor but he is definitely the type to say things like "Downs kids are so sweet and cuddly)? Where's my guy who is the first to rush to the aid of his crying classmate (true story, from several past teachers and even his current one, well, before the Throwing Glasses Incidents of 2009).

We've definitely been noticing some increased aggression coming from Leo. We had a good stretch there for a while with the sibling rivalry. It seemed that Ellie's talking and ability to "bargain" with Leo was making things better and less, well, violent. But now, we seemed to have turned another corner. Ellie is getting bigger and her vocabulary is exploding and she is more and more of a "threat" to Leo and his things every day (at least that's how I perceive how it might be for him).

There's been way more pushing and shoving and yes, a return of the growling. And he's even started hitting me a bit. There are apologies and time-outs and then two minutes later the behavior is repeated.

Of course I wrote back to the teacher about my embarrassment and concern and general horror at the whole glasses/recess event. I told her I was open to suggestions on how we might handle Leo's not so welcome new "tricks."

Gah. Not good.

Feeling Quiet

There hasn’t been much to report as of late, hence the quiet.

Maybe 31 for 21 wore me out, maybe I’m just plum out of good ideas or words, but I’m feeling quiet.

Not that’s it’s been quiet around here. Oh no. Is it ever? But I’m not complaining.

We’ve had a few unseasonably warm days. Sunday was sun-kissed (see above).

How often do people do art projects outside in November on the east coast?

Leo had a great time.




He really gets into his "medium" and is quite the "textural" artist.

Don't be fooled by the photos. Leo was a Holy Terror pretty much all weekend. I love the guy and I know he wasn't feeling well (sinus infection, again...exploring the idea of adnoid removal since every time he gets a cold he ends up on antibiotics because it won't go away, any experience with this? Care to weigh in?) but I can't tell you how many times this weekend I felt like the harried, clueless parent on an episode of "SuperNanny." He's taken to putting Ellie in a sort of headlock. Oh she's no innocent victim and does her share to egg him on, don't worry, but I mean it when I say Never a Dull Moment.

Ellie, on the other hand,


let's just say her attention span is not quite as long. Also, as I've said here before, she's not a fan of getting things on her hands. Throughout the painting project she kept asking me for a "nappin" (napkin).

In other not quiet, news, Ellie continues with the gems. A few from this weekend:

Upon being asked to get dressed so we could go in the backyard and play, Ellie (a completely nude Ellie, I should add) responded: “I’m gonna stay inside where it’s nice and warm.”

Yesterday morning as I was helping her get dressed for school:
“I feel happy.”

Can’t argue with that one.

Halloween (Part 3, The Main Event)

Let’s put it this way. Halloween 2009 will forever be known as the Halloween that Leo went from Trick or Treater to intruder.

Oh sure, the mood was light and festive. The air was balmy and humid—it was unseasonably warm (I wore flip flops!) and the kids thankfully, didn’t need coats. There was a light drizzle but nothing serious (though don't tell that to my frizzed out hair).

But this was not a night about my hair. This was a night about Leo and Ellie. WIth an emphasis on Leo. Because basically, Halloween is Leo’s dream. I mean, think about it. He gets to dress up in a costume (which he does nearly 364 days a year or would, if given the chance), this year he dressed as his favorite thing of All. Time. A dog. And as if all of that wasn’t enough, he gets to trick or treat, which is basically going to meet people (another one of Leo’s favorite things). And by the way he could care less about the candy (so, bonus for Erin and me!).

We tried to get Leo to say Trick or Treat, but the best we could get out of him was “How-een!” So when people answered the door, that’s what Leo said. And then he would try to hug everyone. Every last one of the candy bearers was offered up a hug (don’t worry, we discouraged it at every turn, reminding him to “shake hands” and “give five” but really, you try to keep a hugging dog down).

It was toward the end of the hour that Leo made his move. A group of young, hip-seeming, incredibly friendly people (trust me, I bet they are newly arrived from Brooklyn) answered the door (I remembered them because our neighborhood is not what I’d call “hip,” so these people stuck out to me). They were extremely appreciative of Leo’s dog suit, which made me instantly love them. And they didn't have kids but were really into the whole trick or treating thing which I just thought was sweet. Leo must have felt the love too because first Leo was on the porch and then he was going in for the hug and then he was…in their dining room.

Let’s just say by this time I was ready to be home, where the pizza was ordered, the Netflix envelope was torn open (“The Little Mermaid, a Halloween classic, right?) and Ellie discovered the art of reclining and sucker eating.


And I was told to PLEASE stop taking pictures.

And Leo modeled the basis of any good dog suit.

I normally don’t trust a man in tights, but this time, I’ll make an exception.

When Did She Become a Person?

Ellie is such a little person these days. I just can’t get over the things she says, how aware she is. How many opinions she has. Oh, the opinions!

And she is such her own person.

Warning: Much Ellie kvelling ahead. This post is probably only suitable for grandparents but feel free to read if you’re feeling patient.

Ellie does not like to get dirty. This fact in itself is proof positive that kids come out of the womb with their own preferences. Because as much as I’m a “neat” person, I will admit that my kid is sometimes that one at the playground with the runny nose or muddy knees. Sure we come home and clean up but out and about? Sometimes I’m just too busy to notice.

But, Ellie: she is always asking me for a napkin while eating. Sunday the kids and I made banana bread. She carefully and precisely peeled six bananas (mushy and sticky and overripe, hence, banana bread material). You should have seen the look of horror on her face when she was left with the sticky hands. A perfect little pout of fear, like, what am I supposed to do with these yucky hands?

You can sort of make out her hesitation in the photos. And the only one where she looks truly comfortable is when she’s touching the butter. She loves butter. Straight. Don’t ask me where she learned to eat it like that.




A few other observations (which I remind you again, might only be of interest to me in the sense of “Blog as memory book” and Ellie’s grandparents, so feel free to skip:

The other morning I decided to drop off some overdue library books before school. I was rushing and pulled out perhaps a tad faster than usual, to beat the next car and Ellie called to me from the backseat, “You OK Mommy? You OK?”

And my she’s bossy! And a dish towel thief to boot! I can’t keep a dishtowel hanging on the oven door to save my life because to Ellie, dish towels are not merely dish towels, oh no, they are dolly blankets.

Yesterday afternoon as she and Leo played, she decided it was time to put Leo down for a nap (Oh how I wish!). She ordered “Lay down Leo! Lay down!” and followed him around with the dish towel, trying to cover him. The funny thing is, Leo actually listened to her. She might be the only person in the house he listens to on a regular basis.

And I can see her imagination brimming with possibilities. Saturday morning she (purposefully, it semed) dropped one of her dolls on the floor. She walked over to me and said “Mommy, baby fall down. She got boo-boo. Need ice.” (Ice in a little plastic baggy is, apparently big at daycare for multiple maladies).

And lastly, and perhaps most hilarious of all, Erin was teasing the kids the other night as they were being loud and silly (the usual at our place). Erin said to Leo and Ellie: “You guys are crazy!”

Ellie’s response: “No! I’m Ellie!”

Last night’s bedtime was a bit of a battlefield. Ellie used to be the “easy” one to put to bed. Now? Unless she is exhausted, actually, make that even when she’s exhausted, she’ll give us every excuse in the book why it’s not time to go to bed. “I have to go potty!” (Always.) “Read more books! I want water right now!”

But the best was when, after crying for a good, solid five minutes, I finally went into her room to see what could be done to console her.

“I need tissue Mommy. I’m all wet,” she said, patting the front of her pajama top. “I cried on myself.”

Oy. Pour salt in my guilty mom wounds. She cried on herself.

Did I mention that this language thing is both a blessing and a curse?

Halloween (Part 2, Leo's)

I couldn't have asked for a better schedule on Friday. Ellie's party/parade was in the morning and Leo's was in the early afternoon. In hindsight I wish I'd brought Ellie to Leo's parade. She would have loved it. Leo's school is big: 500 kids. All dressed up. All. Of. Them.

Leo didn't see me at first.


Apologies for the crummy photo editing hatchet job here. Didn't want to show Leo's teacher or the other kids in the photo without permission. This is Leo's who am I supposed to be looking at? face.

Oh! Mommy's here!

Soon it was time to go inside for the party.


Now that is a dog who enjoys a cupcake. Seriously though, Leo has an almost pathological love for cupcakes. (See above. Is it a beard? Is it a cupcake?) I am talking addiction.

Leo got to skip taking the bus to after care/daycare. We picked Ellie up before 3:30 and headed home, almost three hours earlier than most days.

As a special bonus, we had a house call from Leo's teacher shortly after we got home. At the party, she had offered up the class' jack o' lantern (seen above) to us and dropped it off on her way home. Apologies for the messy house and pantsless two-year-old (I'm looking at you Ellie) Mrs. L., but it was fun having you. Leo actually shocked me--normally he hates seeing school people out of context but he grabbed Mrs. L.'s hand as she stood in the doorway and practically pulled her inside (I don't think she'd intended to come in, the poor woman had just survived a full day of teaching elementary school on the Friday before Halloween, if anything she should have been on her way to happy hour).

So it was a short, pleasant visit with Mrs. L.

Then it was on to dinner, books, bath and

bed.

Think he was tired?

Halloween (Part 1, Ellie's)

Friday was a great day. I took the day off from work to be able to join in on the kids' Halloween festivities at their respective schools. It was just the kind of day I imagined having before I had kids, rushing from fun place (party! parade!) to fun place (another parade! another party!). Cause you know, that's every day when you're a stay-at-home mom (insert laughter here).

The finished product after getting dressed in the car. It didn't occur to me to bring Ellie in her costume until I pulled into the parking lot and realized all the other kids were already dressed.

The day started with a parade for all the kids at Ellie's school (the kids there are ages 2-5). The kids emerged from the school to find the parental paparazzi snapping picture after picture of their adorable offspring. The kids looked a little uncomfortable with all the attention.

Then it was off to parade around the school grounds. They walked next door to a bank (the sponsor of the "event" where they received goody bags and were able to meet employees of the bank and "discuss" their costumes.

This one is by far, my favorite. It looks like she's going off to war or something.