5 August, 2010 | No comments

Love in a galaxy far, far away…

Tigger: “Mom, I love you all the way up to hyperspace!”

29 July, 2010 | No comments

Quote of the Day

Thumper: “You make me clean up like an EIGHT YEAR OLD Mom!”

14 July, 2010 | No comments

Quote of the Day

Thumper:  “The world revolves around GOD and ME!”

Uh huh…

13 July, 2010 | No comments

We’ll have to work on those telepathy skills

Tigger (showing his brother a bit of something built in Lego):  “Guess what this is?”

Thumper:  “An 1151 Star Attack Cruiser?”

Tigger:  “No, actually, it’s a dog catcher!”

25 June, 2010 | No comments

Virtual Silliness

We had a rough start to the morning.

I posted on my Facebook status:  “Dianne Karg Baron needs a hug.”

Many of my wonderful friends posted their virtual hugs, which, combined with a decision to have a “do-over” on the day, helped me to feel much better.

Then came this post from my sister-in-law, Kathy:

I almost fell off my chair laughing.

“Bzzzzzzzz” was a teasing game we used to play, something we did to annoy each other.  The object was to grab your opponent’s chin like you were holding an ice cream cone and give it a little shake while saying “Bzzzzzzz”.  The goal was to land the “Bzzzzzz” while avoid getting one yourself.

No meeting of the siblings is complete without at least one of us trying it on.  And of course, Rob passed the tradition on to his kids, so they get in on it too.  I’m only just starting to do it to my kids.

The most satisfying “Bzzzzzzz” is the one that is landed when the opponent is least expecting it.

I can see Rob in my mind’s eye, giggling his face off as he told Kathy what to type.  As I read the words, I felt his hand cupping my chin and giving it a shake.

“Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!”  Gotcha!

It’s nice to have a brother who is capable of making you laugh, even when he’s 3500 km away…

24 June, 2010 | No comments

My Son, the Casanova

Tigger has a very inquisitive mind and he’s not shy about asking questions.

Today while we were waiting for Thumper at the school yard, I was chatting with one of the other ladies.

Tigger asked her:  “What’s your name?”
“My name is Mary,” she answered.

“How old are you?” he asked.
“Ninety-nine,” she laughed.  “No, actually, I’m 61.”

Next question:  “What’s your phone number?”

Ever since he could talk, Tigger has been asking every woman he meets the same three questions.  It doesn’t matter if they’re young or old, he asks.

Mary cracked up, asking me “Is he trying to pick me up?”

I grinned.  “Yeah, he’s the world’s biggest flirt.”

Mary replied:  “If I tell him, will he remember it?”

My son, the 4 year old Casanova…

2 June, 2010 | Comments Off

The Necessities of Life

Tigger:  “May we have some computer time? Kids need one hour of computer time every day!”

Mommy:  “Oh, really??”

Tigger:  “Yes, can we have some computer time now?”

One of my Facebook friends commented:  “Did you ask for empirical evidence of this statement?“

21 May, 2010 | No comments

One Potato, Two Potato and a Rousing Cheer

Until last night I had always maintained the notion that I would not force my kids to eat anything. Various sources, including the boys’ pediatrician, have assured me that they will not starve themselves. So I decided to let them choose: they could choose to eat, or not, but I would not insist that they eat what I put in front of them. By the same token, I would not make anything else for them, should they choose not to eat the meal I had prepared.

Unfortunately, more often than I’d like, my two children have chosen not to eat the dinner I have prepared. It bugs me, but I’ve let it go.

What changed my mind was not the fact that Thumper was once again turning his nose up at dinner, but the incredible rudeness with which he did it. He has recently taken to talking in a growling voice, which, combined with the whining he does when he doesn’t like something, has a particularly grating effect on his parents. It’s just plain offensive. I’ve told him frequently that I will not respond positively to The Growling Voice. If he wants something from me, he can ask in the Nice, Normal Thumper Voice.

Dinner was pork chops, mashed potatoes and spinach salad. The call to dinner was made. The boys’ servings consisted of approximately 1 Tbsp of mashed potato and a 2 cm square piece of meat. (We always start with a small portion when Less Favoured Foods are being served, and if they want more, they can have it. It cuts down on how much food we throw out.) Thumper barely stepped into the kitchen when The Growling Voice proclaimed his disgust at the Utter Grossness of the offering. He flew into fully formed Oscar-worthy Epic Drama King Hissy Fit, ordering me to remove the Offending Plate from his sight and to replace it with something more to his liking.

My only thought was “I’ve had enough of this nonsense.”

When I was growing up, we had to eat everything that was put in front of us. If we didn’t, it was served again at the next meal, and if it was still refused, it would be served again, and again, and again, until the plate was cleaned. My older brother sat through several meals of “kleine Fischele” (little fish); my younger brother lost a contest of wills over mushrooms. My nemesis was anything that included caraway seeds.

I calmly announced to my child that I would not tolerate his rudeness and rejection of the food I had gone to so much trouble to prepare. He would eat his plate clean, or he would get it for breakfast.

The next half hour or so was filled with a lot of screaming, crying, demanding, pleading and Frightful Fussing. Somehow I managed to stay calm and maintain my stance.

To his credit, Tigger decided the best course of action would be to eat his dinner. “I LIKE potatoes!” he declared.

“Well I DON’T!!!” fumed his brother. “I’m NOT eating it!!!”

“Fine,” I said, “Your choice.” I calmly picked up the plate, wrapped it in cellophane, and put it in the fridge.

This morning, Tigger and Mommy enjoyed a bowl of Cheerios, and Thumper got a reheated plate of mashed potatoes and pork.

The Growling Voice returned to register its displeasure. Mommy was unmoved. When Thumper got up from the table in defiance, I calmly informed him that he would not only get this plate for dinner and for every meal until he ate it clean, he’d lose all computer privileges as well.

That caused an immediate change in attitude. His countenance went from red and fierce to calm and sweet. He sat down and declared himself ready to eat.

I told him I’d help him by cutting the pork up into very small pieces. That would make it easier to chew. The meat was dissected into half centimeter cubes and was fully consumed inside of 5 minutes.

The potatoes were going to be more of a challenge because they literally made him gag. I suggested that he try to eat a teeny tiny piece and then wash it down with something to drink.  He was willing to give it a go, so I got him a cup of very cold water. He lifted a speck of potato onto his fork, gingerly slipped it onto his protruding bottom lip and then immediately chased it with several large gulps of water.

My response was to cheer enthusiastically and to congratulate him on successfully eating some potato. He grinned.

He decided that he could try eating a larger piece of potato. He lifted a somewhat larger molecule of potato to his lip and again took a long drink of water.

I cheered enthusiastically, and patted my stomach a few times, ala “4 Square“.

“I didn’t taste the potato at all!” he declared.  Emboldened, he decided to try eating an even larger piece of potato.

And so he went on, trying larger morsels, with gulps of water to wash them down.  My response grew too:  I cheered, patted my stomach, clapped my hands, high-fived, patted the top of my head and the sides of my ears.  It became a little game.

Everything went fine until he choked on a piece and threw up.

He started to cry, but I quickly reassured him that it was fine – the only thing that had happened was that we had now figured out how big a piece he could handle.  So we cleaned up the mess, got him changed, put a tea towel “bib” on him and went back to eating smaller pieces.   “Even though I threw up, it didn’t kill me,” he said.  “I’m okay.”

He didn’t finish the plate, but agreed that he would eat the rest for snack after school.  That effort went through fits and starts, and increasing desperation as I explained that if the plate wasn’t clean, he wouldn’t get any of what I was making for dinner tonight.  I deliberately chose a meal he loves:  tacos.

As I made the preparations, he alternated between eating potato bits and pleading for me to reconsider.  I encouraged him to keep going because “every bite gets you closer to a clean plate.”

Finally, we assembled around the table again, and Thumper was still working on his potatoes, looking very dejected.  Malcolm suggested that he make himself a taco, and mix the remaining bits in with the cheese.  He readily agreed, and was soon chomping happily.  When he finished, we went through a final round of the cheer to celebrate the fact that he’d eaten all of the potatoes!

To my surprise, he later came and thanked me for helping him, because he’d realized that he had learned how to eat food he didn’t like in three ways that made it bearable:

One:  cut the food into small pieces.  That reduces the likelihood of throwing up,  i.e. the food he doesn’t like isn’t going to kill him;

Two:  eat the thing you don’t like along with a drink of water or juice, to mask the taste;

And three:  mix  the food you don’t like with something you do like, which again, masks the taste and makes it easier to eat.

Will we have to repeat this lesson?  I hope not!

6 May, 2010 | No comments

Quote of the Day

Tigger: [heavy sigh] “I’m getting old!”

He’s 4 going on 90.

3 May, 2010 | No comments

Creative Excuses

Reason given by Thumper for why he is grumpy this morning: “My brain ran away last night!”

When asked where it ran away to, he replied “It went to Denver and then blasted off to Venus!”

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