1) I was eating a quejos today and Emma wanted some. But instead of grabbing it, or pointing or crying, or saying "Emma?" or "Pliz?" as she normally does, she said:
"Mumma, share pliz."
I thought I was imagining it, but then she repeated it. How could I resist that? So I gave her a bite, and she said "tank-you." So something's sinking in.
2) E went trick and treating for the first time tonight, in a huge pack of kids from the neighbourhood. She was dressed as a monkey. It was lots of fun. By the time we had gone to three or four houses, she started whispering, "Trick or treat" as if she needed to practice it. She refused to actually say it to anybody at the doors, but would whisper it on the way back down the stairs again: "Trick or treat." She also wouldn't say thank you at the doors, but waited until she was safely back on the pavement before whispering "thank you".
3) The high chair is officially a thing of the past. Ever since B was here on Friday night, Emma has refused to go back into it. So no more safely contained baby for us.
4) E has been doing a lot of language processing today, talking almost constantly when she's been at home, and going through what sounds like lists of words. Earlier, it was an inventory of nouns as if she was looking for the right word. It went something like this:
Fish. Nooo. Mummy. Nooo. Water. Nooo. Bed. Nooo. Teddy. Nooo. Cup. Noooo. Diaper. Noooo. Mumma. Nooo. Elbow. Nooo. Book. Nooo. Car. Nooo. Monkey. Nooo. Moosik. Noooo. Pasta. Nooo....
This went on for several minutes.
And then tonight it was phrases with "more" in them, as in "More crackers. More milk. More cuddles. More water. More play. More..." well you get the picture. She wasn't asking for anything, just cycling through her words.
And at bath time, she went into a long animated monologue with the bath taps, telling them a very excited story that included characters with the names "Mumma," "Mummy," and "Monkey", interspersed with "yeah" and "no" at frequent intervals.
There's obviously a lot going on in there, and it's fascinating to hear it start to come out in ways we can begin to understand.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Toddlers - sophisticated social creatures (Anna)
Putting toddlers in a room together can be lots of fun, but is also a fascinating experiment in human interactions. As parents, we are duty-bound to teach our kids certain rules of social conduct. Nobody wants their kid to be the bully, we don't want our kids to bite each other, pull each other's hair or scratch. We believe that toddlers are highly territorial and have difficulty sharing; we want them to learn to share with each other, treat each other with respect, say "please" and thank you" etc. As they get older, we will probably teach them that lying is wrong, that it's not ok to be mean to each other, and a host of other values.
The thing is, parents haven't mastered any of these skills themselves. Many adults - under the guise of "avoiding conflict" and not hurting people's feelings - routinely lie, and what "respect" means is a highly fluid concept that nobody really agrees on. With all the furor recently about bullying in schools, nobody talks much about the fact that bullying in daily life is rampant. Most adults haven't learned to share - they have merely devised more complex rules for not having to. Adults regularly get confused about what is "mine" and what is "yours" - only it's usually not over dolls and crayons, but more abstract things like who owns what emotional baggage, or believing that the things they value (belief systems/friends/possessions, etc) must be the same things that other people value.
And, although we tend not to pull each other's hair literally, a lot of adult friendships are really no more sophisticated than those of a gaggle of fourteen year old girls, with all the accompanying gossip and pretence.
In some ways, I prefer toddler interactions. They're kind of more genuine, and less full of the artifice that we pretend is good manners. When you're a toddler and you get punched, you at least know what's going on. You turn around and screech, maybe fling a punch yourself, and then get back to playing nicely. And nobody expects a toddler to smile and be polite and pretend that they don't know what's going on when someone's stealing their cracker.
Adults, truth be told, really don't know much about playing nicely. Sometimes I wonder about trying to teach our kids to behave in certain ways that we, as individuals and as a society, can't manage ourselves.
The thing is, parents haven't mastered any of these skills themselves. Many adults - under the guise of "avoiding conflict" and not hurting people's feelings - routinely lie, and what "respect" means is a highly fluid concept that nobody really agrees on. With all the furor recently about bullying in schools, nobody talks much about the fact that bullying in daily life is rampant. Most adults haven't learned to share - they have merely devised more complex rules for not having to. Adults regularly get confused about what is "mine" and what is "yours" - only it's usually not over dolls and crayons, but more abstract things like who owns what emotional baggage, or believing that the things they value (belief systems/friends/possessions, etc) must be the same things that other people value.
And, although we tend not to pull each other's hair literally, a lot of adult friendships are really no more sophisticated than those of a gaggle of fourteen year old girls, with all the accompanying gossip and pretence.
In some ways, I prefer toddler interactions. They're kind of more genuine, and less full of the artifice that we pretend is good manners. When you're a toddler and you get punched, you at least know what's going on. You turn around and screech, maybe fling a punch yourself, and then get back to playing nicely. And nobody expects a toddler to smile and be polite and pretend that they don't know what's going on when someone's stealing their cracker.
Adults, truth be told, really don't know much about playing nicely. Sometimes I wonder about trying to teach our kids to behave in certain ways that we, as individuals and as a society, can't manage ourselves.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Stories of our favourite three year old (Anna)
We've been spending a bit of time with our 3 year-old neighbour, who I will call B - a terrific kid. She and Emma get on well - one of the them is completely in awe of the other one and likes to imitate her; the other one likes to play doll and practice her baby-care skills. I'll let you guess which is which.
Two nice stories from this evening:
1) B hit her noggin when she was playing and needed a cuddle and some sympathy. After I had done the physical check and held her for a while, I said, "Do you need a teddy to cuddle? I'll tell you what. I'm going to get a teddy bear for you and if your head hurts you can cuddle him and he'll help to make you feel better." And then we got distracted by something and the next thing we knew, Emma had gone into the living room, found one of her teddy bears and brought it back. She held it out to B, with a gentle hug and kiss. B took it, gave a tiny smile and cuddled the bear close. It was all we could do not to say "Awwwww" out loud.
2) We have discovered that Emma is susceptible to peer pressure. Last time B had dinner with us, she insisted on having a "big girl's cup" (i.e. not a plastic cup with a lid). And so Emma did, too. All week, she would happily use a sippy cup when it was just us, but if anyone came over for dinner, it had to be a lidless cup.
Tonight, B sat on a chair and started to eat. We suggested to Emma that she get into her high chair, which she usually does quite happily when she's hungry. She started crying, saying "No, no, no." We told her it was homemade pizza for dinner - which she loves (Caroline makes fantastic pizza) - and she wailed "No pizza!!" And then we figured out what the problem was. So we sat Emma up in an adult chair - no high chair, no tray, not even a booster seat. She could barely see over the table top but she was perfectly content and happily ate her pizza. (Or at least, she was content until B had finished and went to play, at which time Emma promptly declared she was also finished and wanted to play as well.)
There's this beautiful intimacy in the looks we give each other over the tops of the kids' heads when they do something cute or annoying. I remember catching my parents doing it when I was a kid and not understanding why they were laughing at me. Well, I guess now I understand. Sometimes you just have to exchange a silent chuckle.
Two nice stories from this evening:
1) B hit her noggin when she was playing and needed a cuddle and some sympathy. After I had done the physical check and held her for a while, I said, "Do you need a teddy to cuddle? I'll tell you what. I'm going to get a teddy bear for you and if your head hurts you can cuddle him and he'll help to make you feel better." And then we got distracted by something and the next thing we knew, Emma had gone into the living room, found one of her teddy bears and brought it back. She held it out to B, with a gentle hug and kiss. B took it, gave a tiny smile and cuddled the bear close. It was all we could do not to say "Awwwww" out loud.
2) We have discovered that Emma is susceptible to peer pressure. Last time B had dinner with us, she insisted on having a "big girl's cup" (i.e. not a plastic cup with a lid). And so Emma did, too. All week, she would happily use a sippy cup when it was just us, but if anyone came over for dinner, it had to be a lidless cup.
Tonight, B sat on a chair and started to eat. We suggested to Emma that she get into her high chair, which she usually does quite happily when she's hungry. She started crying, saying "No, no, no." We told her it was homemade pizza for dinner - which she loves (Caroline makes fantastic pizza) - and she wailed "No pizza!!" And then we figured out what the problem was. So we sat Emma up in an adult chair - no high chair, no tray, not even a booster seat. She could barely see over the table top but she was perfectly content and happily ate her pizza. (Or at least, she was content until B had finished and went to play, at which time Emma promptly declared she was also finished and wanted to play as well.)
There's this beautiful intimacy in the looks we give each other over the tops of the kids' heads when they do something cute or annoying. I remember catching my parents doing it when I was a kid and not understanding why they were laughing at me. Well, I guess now I understand. Sometimes you just have to exchange a silent chuckle.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
parenting *sigh* (Anna)
I committed that cardinal sin of parenting a toddler today.
That's right: I turned a direction into a question. Savvy parents, of course, know that questions like "Do you want to stop playing now?" "Do you want to put your cracker down?" or 'Do you want to go to bed?" are, well, asking for trouble. But it's so tempting to water down commands by making it sound like there's an option.
We got home from work/day care after a long day. We were tired and hungry - we just wanted to get in the door and throw our bags down and change out of our work clothes. And I desperately needed to pee. Caroline went ahead to unlock the door and I crawled into the back of the car to haul Emma out of the car seat, really really grateful that the work day was almost over.
And I said, "Hiya you. Do you want to get out of the car now?" Not, "let's get you out of the car" or "Time to go in now" or anything sensible like that. But "do you want to get out of the car now?"
And Emma's response was, predictably, "no".
So there I was stuck, somewhere between my high-falutin' parenting philosophies, the practicalities of the situation and my own stupidity.
The mental narrative went something like this:
She's a toddler. She's learning what 'no' means and she's learning to assert what she wants/needs. She is developing opinions, which is an important part of developing identity. We are trying to teach her that her needs/wants/preferences will be respected, when they are communicated in an appropriate way. (Our answer might be no, but the question will be treated with respect). This is especially true if her wants/needs/preferences have been solicited. In fact, we go out of our way to offer her choices and decisions so that we can respect her answer. What does she learn if she answers a question, only to find her answer completely ignored?
She did not create this situation. She has no way of knowing that my question was a command, thinly disguised as a question. This is not a case of her saying no to something we have asked her to do, or an example of a toddler tantrum. She is not protesting. We are not in a power battle at the moment; this is not a fight I need to win as a parent. I asked her a neutral question; she simply answered. The only reason I am now in an awkward position is because I should never have asked the question. She has done nothing wrong; why should I now tell her that her "no" isn't worth the breath it took her to say it?
I need to pee. There is no way I am sitting with her in the car until she is ready to get out (on another day, maybe, not today). There is no way I am leaving her in the car by herself (not today; not for many years to come).
So, I found myself breaking parenting rule 57 b, clause 3: "talk to toddlers in short, easy sentences that they can understand" and said something like, "I'm sorry. I made that sound like a question, didn't I. But it actually wasn't a question. It was a statement. We are getting out of the car now. We are going inside. We are undoing your belt. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that you had a choice. You actually don't."
And Emma didn't break any rules. She followed the toddler's cardinal rule to the letter: "When your parents make you do something you don't want to do (especially if they're babbling incomprehensible dribble drabble at you), have a meltdown." So I had to carry a screaming, frustrated toddler out of the car and up the steps.
I think I said something like, "Yup. That's fair. You have every right to be angry at me. Let's go inside."
My saving grace? I didn't add, "shall we?" on the end.
That's right: I turned a direction into a question. Savvy parents, of course, know that questions like "Do you want to stop playing now?" "Do you want to put your cracker down?" or 'Do you want to go to bed?" are, well, asking for trouble. But it's so tempting to water down commands by making it sound like there's an option.
We got home from work/day care after a long day. We were tired and hungry - we just wanted to get in the door and throw our bags down and change out of our work clothes. And I desperately needed to pee. Caroline went ahead to unlock the door and I crawled into the back of the car to haul Emma out of the car seat, really really grateful that the work day was almost over.
And I said, "Hiya you. Do you want to get out of the car now?" Not, "let's get you out of the car" or "Time to go in now" or anything sensible like that. But "do you want to get out of the car now?"
And Emma's response was, predictably, "no".
So there I was stuck, somewhere between my high-falutin' parenting philosophies, the practicalities of the situation and my own stupidity.
The mental narrative went something like this:
She's a toddler. She's learning what 'no' means and she's learning to assert what she wants/needs. She is developing opinions, which is an important part of developing identity. We are trying to teach her that her needs/wants/preferences will be respected, when they are communicated in an appropriate way. (Our answer might be no, but the question will be treated with respect). This is especially true if her wants/needs/preferences have been solicited. In fact, we go out of our way to offer her choices and decisions so that we can respect her answer. What does she learn if she answers a question, only to find her answer completely ignored?
She did not create this situation. She has no way of knowing that my question was a command, thinly disguised as a question. This is not a case of her saying no to something we have asked her to do, or an example of a toddler tantrum. She is not protesting. We are not in a power battle at the moment; this is not a fight I need to win as a parent. I asked her a neutral question; she simply answered. The only reason I am now in an awkward position is because I should never have asked the question. She has done nothing wrong; why should I now tell her that her "no" isn't worth the breath it took her to say it?
I need to pee. There is no way I am sitting with her in the car until she is ready to get out (on another day, maybe, not today). There is no way I am leaving her in the car by herself (not today; not for many years to come).
So, I found myself breaking parenting rule 57 b, clause 3: "talk to toddlers in short, easy sentences that they can understand" and said something like, "I'm sorry. I made that sound like a question, didn't I. But it actually wasn't a question. It was a statement. We are getting out of the car now. We are going inside. We are undoing your belt. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that you had a choice. You actually don't."
And Emma didn't break any rules. She followed the toddler's cardinal rule to the letter: "When your parents make you do something you don't want to do (especially if they're babbling incomprehensible dribble drabble at you), have a meltdown." So I had to carry a screaming, frustrated toddler out of the car and up the steps.
I think I said something like, "Yup. That's fair. You have every right to be angry at me. Let's go inside."
My saving grace? I didn't add, "shall we?" on the end.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Raspberries and more (Anna)
Emma has taken to blowing raspberries on our bellies, and then dissolving in fits of giggles :)
She is learning to jump. She can't quite get both feet off the ground at once, so does a kind of galloping action.
She has a vocab of at least 50 million words...some of which are even English.
With books she knows very well, she can fill in the end of most of the rhymes.
She goes up to the concrete lions outside some of the houses in our neighbourhood, and says "Rarrrrr" at them.
She did her first poo on the potty today.
She loves to be cuddled like a baby and sung "Rock a Bye Baby" (which she calls "Rocka-baby")
She likes to stand on her head (with her feet still on the ground)
She can play "Mum's turn/Emma's turn" for hours.
She is perfecting her toddler behaviour - learning how to make her armpits disappear and dig in her heels (literally) so that it's impossible to pick her up. She can screech very loudly when she wants to. Yesterday, the trigger was her rain boots.
She is affectionate and fun and silly and learning about the world very, very quickly.
She is learning to jump. She can't quite get both feet off the ground at once, so does a kind of galloping action.
She has a vocab of at least 50 million words...some of which are even English.
With books she knows very well, she can fill in the end of most of the rhymes.
She goes up to the concrete lions outside some of the houses in our neighbourhood, and says "Rarrrrr" at them.
She did her first poo on the potty today.
She loves to be cuddled like a baby and sung "Rock a Bye Baby" (which she calls "Rocka-baby")
She likes to stand on her head (with her feet still on the ground)
She can play "Mum's turn/Emma's turn" for hours.
She is perfecting her toddler behaviour - learning how to make her armpits disappear and dig in her heels (literally) so that it's impossible to pick her up. She can screech very loudly when she wants to. Yesterday, the trigger was her rain boots.
She is affectionate and fun and silly and learning about the world very, very quickly.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Colours (Anna)
Emma is learning colours. For a while, the default was red, so anytime we asked her "What colour is that?" she would say red. Now it's yellow (pronounced yeyyow). A typical conversation goes like this:
The Mums: You've got a block. What colour is it?
Emma: Yellow!!
The Mums: Actually, it's green.
Emma: Green.
The Mums: This one is yellow.
Emma: Yellow.
The Mums: That's right. What else is yellow?
Emma: Blue!
The Mums: Ok. And what colour is this?
Emma: Emma!
The Mums: You've got a block. What colour is it?
Emma: Yellow!!
The Mums: Actually, it's green.
Emma: Green.
The Mums: This one is yellow.
Emma: Yellow.
The Mums: That's right. What else is yellow?
Emma: Blue!
The Mums: Ok. And what colour is this?
Emma: Emma!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Out of her mouth (Anna)
- getting ready to go to a friend's place
Mum: "Do you want to go and play with [names of the kids]?"
E: "Yeah. I come." (as if we were giving her the option of staying at home)
- trying to get her down for a nap
Mum: It's time to go to sleep.
I want you to put your head down. No more standing up. No more crying.
E: [nodding] "No more crying." (she puts her head down on the pillow and closes her eyes.)
E: "I sleep." (Three seconds later, her head bounces up, she stands up and starts to cry)
- begging for her current favourite books - The Blue Kangaroo series
"Karroo. Pliz. Mumma. Pliz. Karroooo. Karoooo. Pliz. Pliz. Mumma. Pliz. Karrooo." (You'd think she gets read them every three weeks instead of every three minutes.)
Mum: "Do you want to go and play with [names of the kids]?"
E: "Yeah. I come." (as if we were giving her the option of staying at home)
- trying to get her down for a nap
Mum: It's time to go to sleep.
I want you to put your head down. No more standing up. No more crying.
E: [nodding] "No more crying." (she puts her head down on the pillow and closes her eyes.)
E: "I sleep." (Three seconds later, her head bounces up, she stands up and starts to cry)
- begging for her current favourite books - The Blue Kangaroo series
"Karroo. Pliz. Mumma. Pliz. Karroooo. Karoooo. Pliz. Pliz. Mumma. Pliz. Karrooo." (You'd think she gets read them every three weeks instead of every three minutes.)
Sunday, October 10, 2010
Random stories
This morning, I hung out with Emma for a while before I had my shower and we read some stories and played. I didn't have my glasses on, which is not unusual when I first get out of bed. Emma wasn't at all disturbed by the absence.
But then I had a shower and got dressed and emerged, still without my glasses on. That's unusual - I usually put them on when I get dressed.
Emma took one look at me and said "Glasses. Glasses Mumma" and went into the bedroom to look for them for me. She checked my beside table, the dresser and the edge of the sink, all the usual places they might be. Nothing would distract her from her quest. She said, louder, "Glasses" and I told her they were in the downstairs bathroom. She headed off down the stairs, found my glasses and presented them to me. She was quite relieved when I put them back on. "Glasses!" she said, and all was right with the world once again.
While I'm been writing this post, Caroline and Emmy have been hanging out next to me. Emma decided that she needed to feed crackers to the camera. We're so glad - we've been worried that the cameria doesn't eat enough...
But then I had a shower and got dressed and emerged, still without my glasses on. That's unusual - I usually put them on when I get dressed.
Emma took one look at me and said "Glasses. Glasses Mumma" and went into the bedroom to look for them for me. She checked my beside table, the dresser and the edge of the sink, all the usual places they might be. Nothing would distract her from her quest. She said, louder, "Glasses" and I told her they were in the downstairs bathroom. She headed off down the stairs, found my glasses and presented them to me. She was quite relieved when I put them back on. "Glasses!" she said, and all was right with the world once again.
While I'm been writing this post, Caroline and Emmy have been hanging out next to me. Emma decided that she needed to feed crackers to the camera. We're so glad - we've been worried that the cameria doesn't eat enough...
Friday, October 8, 2010
It wouldn't have happened a decade ago...(Anna)
Emma playing peekaboo with her grandparents...via Skype...
Saturday, October 2, 2010
Congratulations Jillie and Adrian!
My aunt, Jillie, got married this week. This is our video tribute to the happy couple. They do say never to work with children or animals...do robotic dogs count?
Jillie and Adrian - congratulations! So happy for you.
Emma sounding off!
These were from a few months ago...now she tries to play two recorders at once...:)
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