Tippy Toes and Tantrums

Your Tiny Terror: Learn to Live With It

After being a mom for almost seven years, it was time to take it to the next level and crack a parenting book. Truthfully I read parenting books when I had a newborn, but that was it. I have a library of Dr. Sears books, most of which have not been touched, but if anything, they make me look like a conscientious parent, even if I'm only winging it.

The parenting book was somewhat forced upon me: it was a disappointing book club pick by a mom in my son's playgroup. We could have read a mindless Danielle Steel novel or some other chick lit, but it felt like getting a homework assignment when we were asked to read Your Three Year Old: Friend or Enemy. If written more recently, this book would be called Your Three Year Old: A Pint Sized Frenemy.

Another mom in the book club warned me not to get the book, explaining it says three's great, but at three and a half, get a babysitter as much as possible. I laughed, thinking it was a joke until I read the book and it practically says that verbatim. I didn't need a parenting book to tell me that getting a break from your kids can make every stage better. Unlike some other parenting books, this one only made me feel better about my parenting. Up until this week I felt I could write a successful parenting book, that was until the New York Times printed a story that killed my working title, "Yelling: IT WORKS!"

What I wouldn't suggest is paper training a kid like a dog, as the three year old book recommends. In the "puppy dog" stage, a parent can spread out a newspaper in the bathroom and ask the child to go on that, then "within a week or two" - assuming you survive this stage - you can introduce a potty chair. This method would thoroughly confuse our dog and maybe my son, who might expect us to slowly move the newspaper toward our back door before requiring him to go outside, just like we did with our dog.

After reading the puppy dog suggestion, I decided to view the book as a historical piece. It made other notes about the father's temper and disciplinary role not only easier to swallow, but kind of quaint. In the feeding chapter, the book says, "If the preschooler does eat at the family table, he does best if he sits next to his mother, who can give him the attention he needs. And hopefully, Father, if father is present, will refrain from lectures on table manners."  First of all, I waited for the book to suggest eating on the floor with the dog as the best way to table train a kid. Second, clearly times have changed because when my three year old plays with his food or acts crazy at the table, my husband usually laughs while I consider sending my son to finishing school.

Reading this parenting book in particular did help me but that was solely because it set the bar pretty low. I've lived through age three with an older child without having to send her away to boarding preschool, so I'm confident I can handle this age again. The greater lesson for me is that I shouldn't always read our monthly book club selection.

SIGG Replacement Time is Dwindling

Get your old Siggs in the mail by the end of the week to participate in their exchange program after it was reveled that the liners in the older bottles contain BPA. I was livid when the news of this broke, considering we exclusively used about 17 Sigg bottles over the course of five years or so. We bought them because we were told they were safe and hey, don't those European countries have higher environmental health standards anyway? I just received an email today with a $233 credit for the 11 bottles we were able to locate and return. I'm going to spend every cent of that credit, even if it means buying bottles for charity.

We've switched over to Klean Kanteen - a California-based company - and to send the message home to Sigg, I returned our bottles in a Klean Kanteen box. FTS!

Please Save Me, November

I need this picture to remind me that the kids have their moments of awesome.

I'm drinking a very large cup of coffee, which should make for an interesting day. I'm sensitive to caffeine, meaning that I have to watch when and what I drink, and I've found when I go back to regular espresso, it feels like I'm having heart palpitations and I go a little stir crazy. That seems preferable to another day dragging myself around, bone tired, so here we go with full strength coffee. Whee!

Rocket is finally well enough to return to school tomorrow after doing some sort of flu dance for the past week. He was sick last Thursday, so I kept him home Friday, even though he was well. His wellness lasted until Sunday afternoon when the flu came back, meaning I had to keep him home again Monday. When he only goes to school Monday-Wednesday-Friday, missing two days in a row is painful. Sure, he's sad, but I mope the most. Yesterday was spent working on his rock collection in the backyard and listening to his three million theories about life's minutia, usually followed by questions, then corrections when he's unhappy with my answer. I found myself begging him to watch TV. I even lent him my iPhone to play games. Anything for two consecutive minutes of quiet. In the meantime, I spend all of my free time washing my hands with soap.

Clover's problem is that she isn't sleeping. She goes to sleep for what is more like a nap, then she's up all night. This is a post in itself, but the bottom line is that we need more rest...and these kids cannot even give me a break during the night.

Kevin has a project at work, keeping him there long hours and weekends, but we got a small break Saturday night when the two of us went out to dinner. Even that had to be spoiled when we got a call from our bank's fraud protection division at 8 a.m. Sunday - as Kevin was walking out the door to work - to let us know the restaurant charged us five or six times for dinner, at slightly varying amounts and processed at different times. What I love about the bank is that they went with keeping the smallest amount and refusing the others. Kevin seemed bothered by this because the smallest amount was our pre-tip bill total and he was concerned our waiter was losing his tip. Um, the guy charged us a few hundred dollars for a simple tapas meal. I'm willing to say the additional charges were an error and not malicious, but he gave us a Sunday morning of stress, so I'm not shedding a tear over it.

I'm feeling jittery - the coffee is working.

November will be better. I'm willing it to be better.

My Report Card Isn't as Good

My kids are still at the age where I love parent-teacher conferences. I generally spend the first part of the conference wondering if the teacher is really talking about my kid and not someone else, then I'm happy that my children manage to act like totally different people at school. At home, I find myself googling "bipolar" because I can't figure out how it is these kids are such maniacs at home, causing me to pull my hair out in exasperation, yet charming and obedient children at school. Maybe I'm the one who needs medication.

Mommy Bloggers Take on Digital Books

A lot of negatives were said about mommy bloggers this summer after BlogHer 's swag frenzy and it bubbles up from time to time when people accuse bloggers of being in the pocket of certain companies, but this week was a different story. This week - somewhat inadvertently - mommy bloggers were given a chance to shine.

Several bloggers were invited to a cocktail party/product launch by Disney Digital Books this week. I love Disney, I trust Disney and my kids really like the digitized books we own, so I went to the meeting with high expectations. It turns out the product is interesting and I'd like to learn more, but there were some gaps pointed out by the mommy bloggers and that was met with some resistance and it eventually turned into a drumming...on Disney...from the mommy bloggers. I don't know if Disney saw it coming.

Quickly: Disney has just launched an online library encouraging kids to read, where the books can either be read by the child or be read aloud by the computer. The program is mostly aimed at ages five and up, but younger kids can use and enjoy it too. Not to mention, they hope to add young adult titles the library of already 500 books and a learn to read option too. Of course, none of this is free, but Disney expects the cost of $9 a month or $80 a year is not prohibitive. To that I say ha! We were told that the cost would not prevent anyone (within the general middle class, I presume) from subscribing because the monthly cost is roughly the same as two paperback books.

My kids own a ton of books, but most of their reading material comes from the library, which is free. Disney is working on an institutional version of their library, allowing schools and libraries to participate, arguing it's much cheaper for libraries to subscribe than to buy the 500 books in the Disney program. Yet my children walk out of the library each week with roughly 30 books between them that they pour over all week at home. I like giving libraries and schools access to the Disney program, but I cannot see it replacing take home, paper books at the library. A library may subscribe to the program, but there will still be a significant demand for paper books for the next five or so years. One day when we all own readers and get our reading materials digitally, that may change, but for now take home books remain king around here.

The biggest issue where debate flared was the lack of multi-linguality. The books are in English - now American English and soon to be in Queen's English - followed by some Spanish by the end of the year, then possibly Mandarin. Ideally I'd like to see a book - take Winnie the Pooh - with the option to have it in various languages. I know producing multi-lingual books isn't simple - it takes times and money to get it all worked out - but if Disney can do it for movies at the same price, they can do it for books. Clover went through a princess phase and she wanted to see the Disney movies over and over again. After her initial viewing in English, whenever she wanted to watch the movie again, it was shown in French. She was in a French class, so watching Cinderella in French wasn't as cruel as it may sound. (Maybe the French class was the cruel part.) Our Disney DVDs had the option to watch the movie in English, Spanish or French, why can't the books offer the same option? Having a multi-lingual option would be what gets me to fork over $9 month because we don't have access to that many French or Spanish books. Actually, our library has a ton of Spanish books, but they don't have the options that Disney Digital provides (proper pronunciation and definitions, for example), making their program superior to standard library books.

The mommy bloggers stressed that Silicon Valley is not the only pocket of the country trying to raise bi-lingual children and that books with other language options would bring people to their product. Honestly, I don't feel like we were much listened to. It's business and trying to appeal to a relatively small group of bi-lingual families is not a clear revenue stream. There are other countries interested in the program, but for teaching their children English, making it harder for, say, the U.S. to piggy back on say the program designed for France.

Competitors were not mentioned at all during the formal talk, but Leapfrog was singled out afterward by the publishing president, who said it takes $100 to get Leapfrog's Tag loaded with a few books and there's a maximum of five books that can stay on the Tag at once, which is true and a definite downside of the Tag. Leapfrog, however, has one tremendous advantage: It's truly portable. Disney requires wi-fi and a computer - there is no reader or iPhone app - while Tag and other Leapfrog products can be tossed into a backpack and used in the car or in an airplane, the places where an educational option for occupying kids is most needed and appreciated.

Like I said, I love Disney. I think the product could definitely work for some households, for instance where the parents may want to instill better literacy in children, but not feel confident enough to read to their children aloud. Also, the programs aids with "patient support," as we were told, which is very true. I know there are certain books my kids love put it pains me to read over and over again. I've been known to page skip too, but the Disney product is calm, time after time, after time.

The goal of encouraging reading is worthy of applause, especially across all demographics, fewer kids are reading, but as was pointed out to us the other night, this is also a business. I hope to have my kids test out the program in the next month and I'm really eager to see more of how it works and how the program evolves over time, but for now, I need more convincing.

That Doggie Fresh Smell

My eyebrows got a long overdue waxing today, but as the final step, my waxing lady used a different lotion, one that smells exactly like the powder or shampoo universally used by dog groomers. Basically I smell the same way my dog does when she comes home from being groomed. I'm slightly concerned a dog product was used on me, after all what does that say about the pre-wax state of my eyebrows? I felt like a shaggy dog between my bushy eyebrows and my hair, which is starting to feel like it's at a Bon Jovi length. The dog product smell isn't helping my esteem. Not to mention, I've got the clean dog smell without the benefit of a clean dog. Our pug has followed me around all morning, clearly confused about what I do when I leave the house. Rest assured Maddie, I am not spending time with other dogs, just the caterpillars who sometimes live above my eyes.

Product Review: Blackberry Visor Mount Speakerphone

Even though I try not to use a cell phone when driving because I know my focus is not 100% on the road, there are times when I do need to use the phone while driving, especially because I drive carpool. Sometimes last minute changes happen and I need to be connected. California is a hands-free state - which seems to have been widely ignored until as of late when Maria Shriver was caught holding and using her phone while driving. I hated the little Bluetooth earpiece I had to comply with the law so much that I either did not answer the phone or I broke the law myself there a few times as I was driving. The earpiece never felt secure and I don't think using one had to hold my ear really met the spirit of the hands-free law. This went on for over a year until recently when I was sent Blackberry's Visor Mount Speakerphone, which to my complete surprise, actually works.

It works with my iPhone, which was quickly established when two minutes of having turned it on for the first time, I heard "call from..." which caught me off guard. I almost thought it was a system test. The call also caught me off guard because it was Kevin reporting Rocket had thrown up, therefore he would not be going to school. As I turned around, the "call from..." happened again and this time it was Kevin saying it was a false alarm because Rocket had spit out food he didn't like. He wasn't actually sick. Apparently not everyone can tell the difference between swine flu and just being a pig.

It is a speakerphone, which means anyone else in the car is privy to the conversation. The plus side of that is that it silences the carpool kids as everyone listens to the call. I feel like I need to answer the phone with a warning to callers, "This call may be monitored..." I still use the phone as little as possible, but I'm happy that I finally have a solution that meets my needs for when I do need to make a call.

Disclaimer: I was given the Blackberry Visor Mount Speakerphone for free, without any stipulations, including whether I review it or not.

The Red Chair Wars

Things feel like they're moving along here, despite the fact that our house looks like a tornado ripped through. I've been reading and crafting, both of which are a sign that the little Rocketship is getting older. He doesn't need me to be with him every second of the day, which is beyond liberating, even though he tends to spend a good deal of the day tethered to a red armchair, afraid to get up lest his sister grab his seat. I don't know why the red chair is special (maybe because a la Archie Bunker, it's my chair and whenever I want to sit down that chair better be vacated) because it usually sits unoccupied all day long, but suddenly both kids silently agreed to make it ground zero in their sibling rivalry war.

On the way home from his school at noon:

Rocket: "Mom, when we get home, I want to get a drink."

Me: (focusing on the odd driver in front of me) "um hmm."

Rocket: "And I want to sit on the chair."

Me: (still thinking about the driver not looking before entering intersections in his old Datsun truck, the same model my dad had in the 1970s. The truck has stalled twice and he's almost hit three cars.) "um, sure."

Rocket: "The RED chair."

Me: (now thinking Rocket is odd for reserving a chair) "Fine. Whatever."

Rocket: "And Clo can't have it. Just me, right mom?"

Clover is at school for the afternoon, so he has no competition for the chair, but when she does arrive, they will fight it out like wild boars. There are days when we arrive home and they both race to be the first to the front door, which once the door is unlocked, allows that person the best position to race to the back of the house, where the chair lives. The other day Rocket had the chair secured, with his little body sitting in the center and his arms stretched out on each armrest, managing to make his tiny frame take up the whole, oversized chair.  "Don't you want your Bluies?" Clover asked him, knowing his lovies were in his bedroom. He stood up to get them, but stopped before stepping away when he realized this would leave the chair open. Clover's next ploy was to get his Bluies, but she placed them on another chair a few feet away. Finally, after a lot of thought, Rocket made a break for the Bluies. He was fast and by the time Clover jumped for the chair, Rocket was already on his way back. He leapt from a few feet away and they both crashed into the chair screaming. Him at her for stealing the chair, her at him for hurting her (although this began before they collided).

Is this going to be the item they fight for in my will? Should I use that over them? "If you're good, I'll leave the red chair to you, but if you're bad, it's going to your sister." I can imagine my grandchild hauling the red chair into an Antiques Roadshow, hoping that despite many stains, the authentic Pottery Barn armchair circa 2005 will be worth a small fortune. Of course this assumes the chair withstands their rivalry and that is highly unlikely.

Stalked By Nature

Seriously, almost every day these guys are right outside my window, staring at me. Rocket pulls a chair to the window and stares back, standing inside, but fewer than two feet away. Yet these guys are pretty ballsy and they just don't care. Almost every day it's a different one too, like we're a stop on their underground railroad. Where is this migration moving? Last week I got home from the gym at about 9:30 a.m. and until sometime after 4 p.m., a buck hung out in our backyard. I felt like twittering "I've got a big buck in my backyard!" but I worried people would think I was a porn spammer. Or maybe my mind goes there, when most people would have thought I meant a dollar bill.

Because the buck was here all day, moving a little here and there, I was worried he picked our backyard as his final resting place. Every time his eyelids drooped, I would yell out "Don't die!" I think he wanted a quiet place to nap, but I was worried about dealing with a deer carcass because it turns out if one dies on your property, it's your responsibility, which would be great if I were into taxidermy, but I'm not, so I spent the day imagining lugging him into a wheelbarrow (that we don't own), pulling him by the horns while convincing Rocket to hold the wheelbarrow steady, then getting him downhill to the street, where I'd dump him, allowing me to call the county, seeing as there was a dead deer on their property. Clearly this put a damper on my day. Who can do laundry when one has body disposal on the brain?

I opened the window and yelled at him, causing him to move behind the play structure, farther out of range. "I can still see you!" I badgered him like a lazy husband. I was afraid to let the dog out, worried she'd get gored. I thought of an old This American Life where a woman gets attacked by a rabid raccoon while walking down her long driveway. Since surviving the attack, she thinks of the nature around her home as no longer peaceful, but menacing. Maybe the deer was rabid or had Lyme Disease. When I recounted the raccoon story to a friend, she calmly said, "I don't think you should have listened to that episode." As the sun set, I started to worry more. I opened a closer window to make our backyard less hospitable and that was what did the trick. The raised voices of kids playing got him quickly to his feet and scampering up the hill. That's when I felt guilty. Once it was confirmed he was in fine health, I felt bad for pushing him away. Not to mention, the kid noises made me want to join him, even if it meant running away, straight uphill.

Trick or Treat, Give Me Something Other Than Gingerbread to Eat

Poor Rocket is completely confused by Halloween. He gets the trick or treat part and the costumes, but he doesn't understand that this is really only a one day affair. Every time he sees a house particularly well decorated for the holiday, he demands I pull the car over so we can ask them for candy. Or maybe he just knows that people organized enough to do really elaborate decorations probably already bought their candy weeks ago, and like Rocket, they're ready to go.

 

The annual pilgrimage to the pumpkin patch has been crossed off my list. Taking little kids to the pumpkin patch should be great fun, especially as they get older and better able to handle themselves, but now they have opinions, which include not wanting to humor me with our annual photo on the tractor or they argue about which one of them has a bigger pumpkin. The trip to the farm where we buy our pumpkins wasn't all that bad, even when a large tour bus pulled up and scores of old people piled out. We were the only other customers at the farm, which seemed to draw all of the old people too us, as if watching kids picking out pumpkins was part of the experience. This would have been fine, but almost every man in the group came up to my kids and made a grandfatherly comment like, "Got some big pumpkins there!" Rocket talked to the first person who approached us, then they smiled at the second person, but by the third old person, my kids ignored them or looked bothered by the interruption. I tried to be nice the whole time until one old guy tried to take their picture. That's when I blocked the kids and pushed them into the corn. I don't care how old you are, a man taking pictures of kids he doesn't know is a little creepy. Actually, that's not always true. Once at Stanford we encountered a bus full of Japanese tourists, all snapping wildly with their cameras strapped around their necks who took photos of Rocket at the Rodin sculpture garden. Somehow that seemed less threatening, probably because one tour member indicated to me through pointing that they wanted to include him in their photos and once I said yes, it looked like a paparazzi attack with bulbs flashing and cameras clicking away. I imagined Rocket's picture being shown in horribly boring slide shows to their families back home.

After we left the farm, we headed into downtown Half Moon Bay for hot chocolate and cookies. The kids scouted out the glass case and Clover finally pointed to the largest cookie there - bigger than my hand - shaped like a gingerbread pumpkin man. "You know it's gingerbread, right?" I asked. She said she knew in a tone that implied gingerbread was her favorite and I should have known that. Without question, Rocket followed suit, as he usually picks whatever Clover has deemed best. After we sat down, they nibbled a corner of their cookies, then just picked the sugar parts off. Neither of them ate the cookies because...they were gingerbread. Clover refused to concede the point, insisting she wasn't that hungry, yet she didn't want to bring the cookie home for later. Next time, just get the ghost sugar cookie like I suggested, okay kids?