Sunday, July 26, 2015

Ego Boost

With small kids, I don't always have the time to fix myself up each day.

That, and it's not too motivating (or practical) to put on the face and flat-iron the hair for a day of horsing around at the playground or digging at the beach. But I do try to be presentable in public.

There are those days, though, that I dub "run into someone I haven't seen in years" days (Murphy's Law. You know what I'm talkin' about. "JANET! You look... busy."). Those days I scare myself with a haggard close-up when I discover I've left the camera in selfie mode. The days I'd half-expect expect Stacy and Clinton to ambush me in the mall and chew me out over my dishevelled ponytail and overstuffed pockets, if What Not to Wear was still on (I loved that show. I'd still never wear a blazer for grocery shopping, but I loved the ideas).

On those days, I'm ever grateful I have some innocently honest children who don't hesitate to give me their observant commentary to boost my ego.

These are the sweet times when they rub your legs or scrutinize a spot on your arm with a look of "what the hell is THAT".

Yeah. This from the people who wear crocs on the wrong feet over footie jammies and keep a sticker on their foreheads all day. Thanks, guys.

Friday, July 03, 2015

Closet Door Slams and Donkey Slams

So we spent Friday at the emergency department at CHEO. Little Bro had his finger slammed in a closet door, and there was much bleeding and freaking out. Long story short, he needed stitches, and the finger is fractured.

His big brother did it, but it might not be what you think. Big Bro was trying to get away from a little sibling who was full of beans and gleefully trying to pinch him or poke his eye or who knows what, and I didn't step in fast enough. Big Bro runs into the closet to escape and throws the sliding door closed, and voilĂ , an emergency trip to CHEO.

The paramedic asked, "who's taking it worse, him or Mom?" ... it's true, I was a wreck. It was so upsetting to see his tiny finger mangled, and to see my sweet boy endure frightening stitches and x-rays and not understand what was happening or why I wasn't rescuing him from it all. I just wanted to wrap him up and hug him forever.

The very next day, he's back to chasing his brother for funsies again. So he hasn't learned a thing. Just today, I heard myself saying, "No donkey slams! [Big Bro] said no!" As if he was doing it because he thought he had consent...

(FYI, Donkey Slams are apparently whacking your brother with a plastic donkey while yelling "DONKEY SLAM!".)

Yes, younger siblings can be pretty feisty at times. Big Bro is not the only big sibling in my circle that ended up with an enthusiastic Mike-Tysonesque bite mark from a wrassling session gone wrong.

I can even still see my own little 6-year-old sister stomping off to the shed in her Garfield nightie to get the axe to teach us a lesson (in her defense, we were giving her a hard time). She couldn't lift the axe, so she brought in the saw instead. Ah. Childhood.

The boys are quite fond of each other, and Little Bro is sweet and affectionate. It's just that he's two, and very much so, and lives life with feeling. So we're working on reading cues and knowing when to rein in the shenaningans. Hint: Brother screaming "AGH! DON'T! PINCH! MEEEE!" is one example of such a cue.

I got Karen Katz's No Biting! from the library. I liked it in my teaching days for how it redirects many hurtful behaviours. For instance, you can't hit your mom, but if you're in a hitting mood, you could hit a drum! What about kicking? Not the dog, but go nuts with a ball! Spitting? Sure... when you brush your teeth. (Obviously not an in-depth read on how to deal with feelings, but it's a good start)

Little Bro loves that book and asks for it often, predicting all the appropriate answers.

(Note his bandaged finger)

Trampolines are apparently okay hilarious to bite also...

Is there a Katz book that colourfully illustrates that you can't belt your brother with a bus just because you named him "drum"?