It's time for a potty training update here. Things are going pretty well right now (knock on wood). Emil has pooped in the potty twice today, and peed a few times. He's only peed in his diaper once today. Esme has peed in the potty all day, but did poop in her diaper once, too. There was a sweet moment just now when I was pottying Emil, and Esme said, "I want to go potty too, like Emil!" Too bad she had pooped in her diaper about five minutes before making that announcement. I guess you can't win them all.
I'm not sure what caused the recent change in Esme's desire to use the potty. It could be any number of things. A natural progression of maturity, seeing her baby brother use the potty, switching to cloth when at home. Who knows? All I know is that two weeks ago, when I asked Esme if she wanted to use the potty she would answer with a resolute no. I would reply that it would make mommy very happy, to which she answered, "But you already very happy, Mommy."
Then one day, it was like a switch was flipped in her little noggin. Suddenly, she announced, "I use the potty!" And lo and behold, she did, and has several times since then.
I know many of you aren't as interested in a toddler's potty training as you may be in the infant's, so here's the quick update on Emil.
I still haven't read the book on Infant Potty Training, but what we're doing is pretty simple. I just try to remember to give Emil the opportunity to go in the potty frequently throughout the day. His little body has a natural reaction to the "pssss" sound now, and as soon as I hold him over his little Baby Bjorn potty, he lets it go if he has to. The hardest thing is me remembering to get him there. On busy days, he goes way more often in his diaper. But on days that I'm on the ball and able to do it, he goes mostly on the potty. My hope is that by doing this now, he will make the transition to potty much earlier than Esme. My goal is to have him out of diapers by the time he's 2.
We're going to be traveling in Europe for most of the month of June, and as the date quickly approaches, I'm wondering how our potty training will survive this trip. Will we be crossing the ocean with a potty in our luggage? Most likely. God knows how we'll pack for all of us for a month and still be able to make it through the airport and to and from hotels and apartments and on trains and into rental cars. But if Esme can be mostly potty trained by then, I'll be one happy mama.
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Sippy cup pitfalls
As I was showing the nanny how well Emil drinks out of a glass, she looked at me in surprise, and then said, "No one can believe me that he's using the potty already at 6 months. They're gonna think I'm crazy when I tell them that he drinks out of a regular cup."
When Esme was 5 months old, my mom visited us and announced that Es was ready to learn how to use a regular cup. Jacob and I looked at each other in surprise, but we didn't stand in her way. Sure enough, Esme knew just what to do when that cup was lifted to her mouth. Jacob recently announced that Emil was ready, and he likewise took to the cup quickly. I still remember the day that Esme's daycare teacher told me that she was teaching the children how to use a cup at school. Esme was the youngest of her students at that time, and I said something about Esme always using regular cups at home, to which the teacher responded, "No wonder she's the only one who doesn't spill."
In a consumer world, we easily forget that there was a time that we didn't have all these gadgets, like sippy cups. People honestly think that a baby can't drink out of a regular cup! We use sippy cups at our house, but only for certain situations, like riding in a car or going to bed, where spills are more likely. Those are the times that I can see why someone invented the sippy cup. But using sippy cups all the time just slows our children's learning curve. They never learn how to handle a regular cup, and when it's time to take the sippy cup (or the bottle) away from an older toddler, you tend to meet with resistance.
I'm sure that there are plenty of other baby gadgets that we have come to depend on unnecessarily. Yes, these things can make our lives easier in the short run, but by becoming overly dependent on them, I don't think we let our kids learn to do the things that they are capable of for themselves.
When Esme was 5 months old, my mom visited us and announced that Es was ready to learn how to use a regular cup. Jacob and I looked at each other in surprise, but we didn't stand in her way. Sure enough, Esme knew just what to do when that cup was lifted to her mouth. Jacob recently announced that Emil was ready, and he likewise took to the cup quickly. I still remember the day that Esme's daycare teacher told me that she was teaching the children how to use a cup at school. Esme was the youngest of her students at that time, and I said something about Esme always using regular cups at home, to which the teacher responded, "No wonder she's the only one who doesn't spill."
In a consumer world, we easily forget that there was a time that we didn't have all these gadgets, like sippy cups. People honestly think that a baby can't drink out of a regular cup! We use sippy cups at our house, but only for certain situations, like riding in a car or going to bed, where spills are more likely. Those are the times that I can see why someone invented the sippy cup. But using sippy cups all the time just slows our children's learning curve. They never learn how to handle a regular cup, and when it's time to take the sippy cup (or the bottle) away from an older toddler, you tend to meet with resistance.
I'm sure that there are plenty of other baby gadgets that we have come to depend on unnecessarily. Yes, these things can make our lives easier in the short run, but by becoming overly dependent on them, I don't think we let our kids learn to do the things that they are capable of for themselves.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Searching for the perfect baby-wearing device
Ever since Esme was born I have been on the search for the perfect sling/pouch/baby-wearing device. Now that I have two children and seen one child through different ages of baby-wearing (we still wear her, even though she is 2 and a half!), I have learned a lot. The biggest lesson is that not one carrier will fit every person or every baby.
When Esme was a newborn, the Kangaroo pouch was one of her favorite places to be. But Emil was born leaping out of our arms, almost literally. He is a squirmy worm, arms and legs jutting out with no warning or rhythm, back arched in defiance. The pouch, which holds a tiny baby in stretchy fleece material is kind of like an artificial womb, and thus way too confining for Emil. He is much more of a Baby Bjorn kind of kid, facing out to watch the world, kicking his legs and punching his arms freely as he sees something that excites him (usually a smiling woman going all goo-goo on him).
But the Baby Bjorn hurts my back, so we recently tried a new carrier called the Ergo. It also serves as a soft (as opposed to hard frame) back carrier. Emil likes it better than the pouch, but not as well as the Bjorn. However, it is so much nicer for my back that I don't carry him in the Bjorn anymore. The Ergo works almost like a good backpack for hiking - takes the weight and holds it in around the waist, reducing the stress on the back. The only problem with it is that Emil can't face outward, but only inward towards me, and he's a little extrovert, always on the lookout for women to flirt with. The Ergo cramps his style a little, but he puts up with it.
The pouch has been a wonderful carrier for Esme even as she has gotten older. She now rides in it on our hips, with the pouch hugging her tight to my body and keeping my arms from doing the tough job of holding her for extended periods of time. Last May, when we were in a small town Mexico for a week, she went everywhere attached to our hips this way, and it was wonderful - much better than a stroller bumping over dirt and cobbled streets.
And so the result of my search is this: different babies might have the different perfect baby-wearing devices. May you find your perfect one sooner rather than later! They make life so much nicer.
When Esme was a newborn, the Kangaroo pouch was one of her favorite places to be. But Emil was born leaping out of our arms, almost literally. He is a squirmy worm, arms and legs jutting out with no warning or rhythm, back arched in defiance. The pouch, which holds a tiny baby in stretchy fleece material is kind of like an artificial womb, and thus way too confining for Emil. He is much more of a Baby Bjorn kind of kid, facing out to watch the world, kicking his legs and punching his arms freely as he sees something that excites him (usually a smiling woman going all goo-goo on him).
But the Baby Bjorn hurts my back, so we recently tried a new carrier called the Ergo. It also serves as a soft (as opposed to hard frame) back carrier. Emil likes it better than the pouch, but not as well as the Bjorn. However, it is so much nicer for my back that I don't carry him in the Bjorn anymore. The Ergo works almost like a good backpack for hiking - takes the weight and holds it in around the waist, reducing the stress on the back. The only problem with it is that Emil can't face outward, but only inward towards me, and he's a little extrovert, always on the lookout for women to flirt with. The Ergo cramps his style a little, but he puts up with it.
The pouch has been a wonderful carrier for Esme even as she has gotten older. She now rides in it on our hips, with the pouch hugging her tight to my body and keeping my arms from doing the tough job of holding her for extended periods of time. Last May, when we were in a small town Mexico for a week, she went everywhere attached to our hips this way, and it was wonderful - much better than a stroller bumping over dirt and cobbled streets.
And so the result of my search is this: different babies might have the different perfect baby-wearing devices. May you find your perfect one sooner rather than later! They make life so much nicer.
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Looking a Gift Horse in the Mouth
We all know the saying, "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." I never understood the saying, because if you know the story at all, then the moral should be, "Be sure to look a gift horse in the mouth." So it is that I address the topic of gifts for our children, and what we allow.
After Esme looked at us all crazy-eyed, strung out on sugar from her Easter egg hunts, I called our neighbor and good friend to beg her not to bring Esme another basket filled with candy. "Can't you just eat it?" she asked. No way - she's gotten smarter since last year (when, I confess, I did eat it all!). I felt a little guilty, but I couldn't seen another week with a sugar-jacked toddler around the house.
Several weeks ago, a friend came over for dinner and brought gifts for the kids. She brought Esme the cutest flashlight in a soft, bug case. Now I know that Esme loves flashlights. But she's not allowed to keep gifts unless she says thank you. It became a showdown. "Say thank you, Esme." Big eyes float down to the floor, pouty mouth staying shut. "Don't you want the toy?" No, she said. Little liar.
The next week, we saw the same friend again. "Are you going to say thank you?" No. I was going to be firm and stand my ground. But then that friend's dog snapped at Esme and scared the bejezus out of her (and me). The friend saw her opportunity, "Now can I give her the flashlight?"
I was broken. I turned to Esme and said, "Do you want the flashlight?" No. "You don't have to say thank you. Now do you want the flashlight?" An emphatic YES punctuated by puppy dog eyes was the answer. Esme won that round. I probably need to loosen up when it comes to people giving my children gifts. We'll see who wins the next round.
After Esme looked at us all crazy-eyed, strung out on sugar from her Easter egg hunts, I called our neighbor and good friend to beg her not to bring Esme another basket filled with candy. "Can't you just eat it?" she asked. No way - she's gotten smarter since last year (when, I confess, I did eat it all!). I felt a little guilty, but I couldn't seen another week with a sugar-jacked toddler around the house.
Several weeks ago, a friend came over for dinner and brought gifts for the kids. She brought Esme the cutest flashlight in a soft, bug case. Now I know that Esme loves flashlights. But she's not allowed to keep gifts unless she says thank you. It became a showdown. "Say thank you, Esme." Big eyes float down to the floor, pouty mouth staying shut. "Don't you want the toy?" No, she said. Little liar.
The next week, we saw the same friend again. "Are you going to say thank you?" No. I was going to be firm and stand my ground. But then that friend's dog snapped at Esme and scared the bejezus out of her (and me). The friend saw her opportunity, "Now can I give her the flashlight?"
I was broken. I turned to Esme and said, "Do you want the flashlight?" No. "You don't have to say thank you. Now do you want the flashlight?" An emphatic YES punctuated by puppy dog eyes was the answer. Esme won that round. I probably need to loosen up when it comes to people giving my children gifts. We'll see who wins the next round.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
A child's place in nature's rhythm
The nature table is present in most of our homes in some form or another. A mantelpiece holding a fossil, feather and flower or a windowsill with carefully chosen stones piled up by a vase and candle. Teaching in a Steiner/Waldorf classroom I learned that it is a subtle tool reinforcing the rhythms of the year; adding to the richness of a child's life and deepening their self-esteem.
Rhythm is fundamental to our children’s development: the simple order of breakfast-lunch-tea provides comfort in so far as the child knows certain things to be absolutely true. They can relax into play, unworried about getting hungry because there is always a mid-afternoon snack. When the scope is opened wider and the rhythms of the week, then of the year, are added to create additional patterns of their own, the child gains not only a new security but the cognitive ability to layer truths.
These rhythms are an earlier part of the same mathematical development as music and handwork (sewing, weaving, knitting). That knitting or cross-stitch would support and strengthen the ability to learn maths skills like times tables seems logical. That learning to play an instrument stimulates our mental arithmetic is borne out by the metronome or the foot-tapper. Skipping with a jump-rope can allow the most fidgetty of children to have the mental space to play number games. But the rhythms of the year hold a child in an embrace as eternal as our own. The bitterest chill of Winter can be softened when a child truly understands that Spring is coming. Such lessons certainly continue to apply throughout life, and just as a grandparent may die, so an aunt may have a baby.
The nature table is a physical manifestation of these rhythms, a miniature world. By changing the coloured silks and figures seasonally, our place in the year is reinforced. So there should always be a fresh branch to remind us what the trees are doing outside, and animals who are particularly active that season (spring lambs, summer butterflies, autumn squirrels and winter robins are a first thought). I like to include fairies, gnomes and the like because human helpers bring the child into the scene. Now a child knows what to look for whenever they go out for a walk: nests or hatched eggs, returning swallows and geese, first shoots and sticky buds. Acting out the animals’ lives at this time (either with finger puppets or through ‘being’ the squirrel) helps develop empathy and give a richer texture to our children’s lives. Understanding and accepting that there are rhythms in nature (our heartbeat, phases of the moon, tides on the beach) and in the world all around us can help a child to become grounded and ready to learn. Something as simple as a quick walk outside to find a contribution for the nature table can calm a fractious child, because they are reassured by knowing that ‘Now is Autumn, I can look for a good leaf’.
So, too, we must learn gentleness towards the treasures which are being offered. If a child places their flower or stone on the nature table after choosing and bringing it, then others may lift it and appreciate it but must always put it back. The animals and fairies may be played with- that is what they are there for, but they live in their world on the nature table and that is where they should stay. In an atmosphere of respect, children are capable of sharing their greatest treasures. Just as we teach them to run with the wind, and hoot at the moon, we teach them to use calm voices in libraries, to touch gently in botanical gardens and to just look in art galleries.
Rhythm is fundamental to our children’s development: the simple order of breakfast-lunch-tea provides comfort in so far as the child knows certain things to be absolutely true. They can relax into play, unworried about getting hungry because there is always a mid-afternoon snack. When the scope is opened wider and the rhythms of the week, then of the year, are added to create additional patterns of their own, the child gains not only a new security but the cognitive ability to layer truths.
These rhythms are an earlier part of the same mathematical development as music and handwork (sewing, weaving, knitting). That knitting or cross-stitch would support and strengthen the ability to learn maths skills like times tables seems logical. That learning to play an instrument stimulates our mental arithmetic is borne out by the metronome or the foot-tapper. Skipping with a jump-rope can allow the most fidgetty of children to have the mental space to play number games. But the rhythms of the year hold a child in an embrace as eternal as our own. The bitterest chill of Winter can be softened when a child truly understands that Spring is coming. Such lessons certainly continue to apply throughout life, and just as a grandparent may die, so an aunt may have a baby.
The nature table is a physical manifestation of these rhythms, a miniature world. By changing the coloured silks and figures seasonally, our place in the year is reinforced. So there should always be a fresh branch to remind us what the trees are doing outside, and animals who are particularly active that season (spring lambs, summer butterflies, autumn squirrels and winter robins are a first thought). I like to include fairies, gnomes and the like because human helpers bring the child into the scene. Now a child knows what to look for whenever they go out for a walk: nests or hatched eggs, returning swallows and geese, first shoots and sticky buds. Acting out the animals’ lives at this time (either with finger puppets or through ‘being’ the squirrel) helps develop empathy and give a richer texture to our children’s lives. Understanding and accepting that there are rhythms in nature (our heartbeat, phases of the moon, tides on the beach) and in the world all around us can help a child to become grounded and ready to learn. Something as simple as a quick walk outside to find a contribution for the nature table can calm a fractious child, because they are reassured by knowing that ‘Now is Autumn, I can look for a good leaf’.
So, too, we must learn gentleness towards the treasures which are being offered. If a child places their flower or stone on the nature table after choosing and bringing it, then others may lift it and appreciate it but must always put it back. The animals and fairies may be played with- that is what they are there for, but they live in their world on the nature table and that is where they should stay. In an atmosphere of respect, children are capable of sharing their greatest treasures. Just as we teach them to run with the wind, and hoot at the moon, we teach them to use calm voices in libraries, to touch gently in botanical gardens and to just look in art galleries.
Esme's first Easter egg hunt - searching for the meaning of Easter
We took the kids to the neighborhood brunch and Easter egg hunt this past Sunday, and Esme discovered the joy of the hunt. Even as I type this, she's happily munching on the jelly beans from her loot bin. Being only 2 and a half in a hunt for kids 5 and under has its disadvantages. She only found one egg by herself, then the sweetest little boy named Brandon took pity on her and started shoveling his own eggs into Esme's basket. For the rest of the hunt, I surreptitiously stole eggs from Esme's basket and re-hid them for her to find. At one point she looked at me and said, "Mommy, throw another one!" I was busted.
Jacob and I have noticed that other people make assumptions about our religious beliefs when we tell them we went to an Easter egg hunt over the weekend. I was talking to my good friend Courtnay, who responded, "I thought y'all didn't celebrate Easter." I was stumped. Was going to an Easter egg hunt celebrating Easter? We don't consider ourselves Christian or Jewish (or Muslim or Buddhist or Hindu or any other religion). Jacob, being the good MIT grad that he is, has more of a "science is god" perspective on life, whereas I believe in the mystical and spiritual, but don't believe that any single brand of religion has the sole key to the spiritual world. Both of us believe strongly in morality, and we try hard to teach our children the difference between right and wrong. But major wars have been fought in the name of religion, and we don't support the dogmatic view points that come from associating yourself with one single path.
When we headed off to the Easter egg hunt, none of this was going through either of our minds. We were simply going to a neighborhood party, looking forward to chatting with the neighbors, drinking coffee, and watching Esme discover a fun new game with all her preschooler friends. I'm sure that while most of our neighbors probably do consider themselves Christian, they weren't thinking of religion on Sunday either. They were thinking, "God, this is a gorgeous day to be out here in the redwoods. Aren't all those kids running around cute." "God" in this sense of the word, is a figure of speech, not an evocation. (And, by the way, I saw a family I know to be Buddhist there, and another family that belongs to a local Temple.)
Yet when Jacob told his Mom that we went to an Easter egg hunt, her reply was, "So I guess you're not celebrating Passover." I wasn't even aware it was Passover until I talked to my friend Beca, who was home visiting her family for the holiday. Of course, I wasn't aware it was Easter until I got the email about the neighborhood brunch. If we had gotten an email about a neighborhood seder, we would have gone. And the truth is, I will take the kids to seders when they get old enough to be aware of what's going on. I think it's important for them to understand the traditions of world religions, because it is a way for them to understand different cultures and it might help them later on their own spiritual paths. But I don't think that we need to subscribe to just one religion to give our children a spiritual education.
What about tradition, some people may ask. And what about it? Almost every major religion was founded by an individual who broke with tradition, recognizing that the established institution gets corrupt and needs to be shaken up. The great religious leaders have been mavericks, and I think it's important that my children recognize that and learn to think for themselves. Morality is not something that you achieve by following a religion. It is something you show in your everyday choices. When suicide bombers kills themselves and scores of others in the name of religion, are they making good moral choices? When Christians scoured Europe during the crusades, forcing out the Jews and Gypsies, were they making good moral choices? Does it sound like I have a grudge against religion? Maybe I do.
Our lives are not devoid of tradition. We have family traditions, and since we are a young family, those traditions are still in the making. But I look at composting and planting seeds as our religious traditions, teaching our kids how to be responsible and live in harmony with nature. What does finding a plastic Easter egg stuffed with sweets teach kids? To eat lots of sugar and get cracked out on candy? I don't see the religious element there. The meaning behind Easter, the rebirth of Christ, is religiously significant. It's symbolically and spiritually significant, but is a 2 year old going to get it? I don't think so. Similarly with Passover, it documents the Jewish story that is an important part of the culture. But I don't think Esme would understand it yet. And it's a story that reinforces one of the things about Judaism that I don't really like, which is the concept of the "Chosen People." What does that mean? That all the "Unchosen People" are shite? I thought we were all God's creations, and therefore all connected.
This gets at the root of why religion does not play a strong role in our family. It stresses differences between cultures, and I would rather my children grow up seeing themselves as connected to other human beings and the the natural world around them. Seeing the world in terms of "us" and "them" is what enables us to justify waging war on others. God help my children from ever viewing things that way.
Jacob and I have noticed that other people make assumptions about our religious beliefs when we tell them we went to an Easter egg hunt over the weekend. I was talking to my good friend Courtnay, who responded, "I thought y'all didn't celebrate Easter." I was stumped. Was going to an Easter egg hunt celebrating Easter? We don't consider ourselves Christian or Jewish (or Muslim or Buddhist or Hindu or any other religion). Jacob, being the good MIT grad that he is, has more of a "science is god" perspective on life, whereas I believe in the mystical and spiritual, but don't believe that any single brand of religion has the sole key to the spiritual world. Both of us believe strongly in morality, and we try hard to teach our children the difference between right and wrong. But major wars have been fought in the name of religion, and we don't support the dogmatic view points that come from associating yourself with one single path.
When we headed off to the Easter egg hunt, none of this was going through either of our minds. We were simply going to a neighborhood party, looking forward to chatting with the neighbors, drinking coffee, and watching Esme discover a fun new game with all her preschooler friends. I'm sure that while most of our neighbors probably do consider themselves Christian, they weren't thinking of religion on Sunday either. They were thinking, "God, this is a gorgeous day to be out here in the redwoods. Aren't all those kids running around cute." "God" in this sense of the word, is a figure of speech, not an evocation. (And, by the way, I saw a family I know to be Buddhist there, and another family that belongs to a local Temple.)
Yet when Jacob told his Mom that we went to an Easter egg hunt, her reply was, "So I guess you're not celebrating Passover." I wasn't even aware it was Passover until I talked to my friend Beca, who was home visiting her family for the holiday. Of course, I wasn't aware it was Easter until I got the email about the neighborhood brunch. If we had gotten an email about a neighborhood seder, we would have gone. And the truth is, I will take the kids to seders when they get old enough to be aware of what's going on. I think it's important for them to understand the traditions of world religions, because it is a way for them to understand different cultures and it might help them later on their own spiritual paths. But I don't think that we need to subscribe to just one religion to give our children a spiritual education.
What about tradition, some people may ask. And what about it? Almost every major religion was founded by an individual who broke with tradition, recognizing that the established institution gets corrupt and needs to be shaken up. The great religious leaders have been mavericks, and I think it's important that my children recognize that and learn to think for themselves. Morality is not something that you achieve by following a religion. It is something you show in your everyday choices. When suicide bombers kills themselves and scores of others in the name of religion, are they making good moral choices? When Christians scoured Europe during the crusades, forcing out the Jews and Gypsies, were they making good moral choices? Does it sound like I have a grudge against religion? Maybe I do.
Our lives are not devoid of tradition. We have family traditions, and since we are a young family, those traditions are still in the making. But I look at composting and planting seeds as our religious traditions, teaching our kids how to be responsible and live in harmony with nature. What does finding a plastic Easter egg stuffed with sweets teach kids? To eat lots of sugar and get cracked out on candy? I don't see the religious element there. The meaning behind Easter, the rebirth of Christ, is religiously significant. It's symbolically and spiritually significant, but is a 2 year old going to get it? I don't think so. Similarly with Passover, it documents the Jewish story that is an important part of the culture. But I don't think Esme would understand it yet. And it's a story that reinforces one of the things about Judaism that I don't really like, which is the concept of the "Chosen People." What does that mean? That all the "Unchosen People" are shite? I thought we were all God's creations, and therefore all connected.
This gets at the root of why religion does not play a strong role in our family. It stresses differences between cultures, and I would rather my children grow up seeing themselves as connected to other human beings and the the natural world around them. Seeing the world in terms of "us" and "them" is what enables us to justify waging war on others. God help my children from ever viewing things that way.
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