Wednesday, April 16, 2008

No More Paci!

I am happy to report that Operation Paci-Free has been a complete success! AP has been without her daytime paci since Friday and has been doing great at school and even takes her nap without any problem. We've experienced many benefits to this new paci-free lifestyle.
No more:
- keeping up with a paci and panicking if it gets lost.
- worrying about all those germs!
- earaches (at least I hope we'll have fewer than before). WebMD says that pacifier use may lead to ear infections!
- fighting at bedtime. A surprise bonus to getting rid of the daytime paci has been that once Anne Parks gets sleepy, she asks us to put her in the bed!



Sunday, April 13, 2008

Operation Paci-Free


When I first decided on the "Paci-Free Plan," I did it with the idea that I would have at least three really hard days ahead of me. I won't say it's been a piece of cake, but I have realized that most of the the paci-problem fell with my giving it to her every time she was upset. This weekend I realized just how much easier (for me) it has been to just stick a paci in her mouth to stop her crying or to help her go to sleep in the car, than to wait it out.
Here's an overview of our weekend:

Saturday, Day One:
The night before this endeavor, I made it a point to talk about how big girls don't have pacis. I went through the list of everyone we know and asked, "Does Daddy have a paci?" and "Is Drew a big boy?" She would answer "Nooooo" and "Daddy big boy!" Saturday morning, I told her the paci had to stay in the bed. She just threw it down! No argument! She was great all day...until nap time. Once she got tired, she got really sad. She asked for her paci, and I reminded her that it was in her bed. Then, she started calling out for anyone who might come and "save" her and give her a paci. She called for Daddy (who was out of town), her grandparents, and all of her aunts and uncles. I guess she thought they would be nicer than I was. It was pretty pitiful. Once she woke up from her nap, she was fine, and didn't ask for her paci until bedtime. I was impressed.

Sunday, Day Two:
When AP woke up, she immediately handed me her paci, and we left in her bed. We visited Christ United's Sunday school, and I was pretty nervous about taking her to a new place without her coping mechanism. I didn't go to the service but went to pick her up as soon as the class was over because I was so concerned. When I got there, she had a big smile and said, "Hey, Mama!" The teacher said she never even mentioned a paci!

I'd hate to jinx it, but I believe we've gotten over the hardest part (which really wasn't that hard). The real test will be seeing how she does without it all day at school tomorrow. I suspect nap time will be difficult.

I had expected her to turn to her blanket more after losing the comfort her paci provides, but it's funny. She's wanted her blanket less! I guess it's her new "big girl" attitude. I'll keep you updated.

Friday, April 11, 2008

The Paci Problem

Does anybody else have the "paci problem"? It seems like every day AP grows more and more attached to her paci. I don't really mind the "blanket friend" that she takes everywhere. I read that the comfort it provides can mean that she'll learn more and be more confident in new situations.
Then, there's the paci. I'm sick of it! It keeps her from talking correctly, is a germ-magnet, and covers up her pretty face. In addition, at this age, a paci makes her look less intelligent than she really is. She can count to 10 and has a huge vocabulary, but you'd never know it with that "thing" in her mouth. It's horrible to say, but it really "dumbs-down" her looks.

Doesn't she look brighter without it? I'd love to hear from anyone who has successfully gotten rid of one of these things. I've decided to try this weekend for a "bedtime only" policy. (If she wants the paci, she'll have to get in the bed.) It's a little scary, and it will be hard, but I think we can do it. I'm just thankful she doesn't suck her thumb since we couldn't just leave that in the bed. I'll let you know how it goes...

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Twos: Terrible or Terrific?

As AP nears the two-year mark, we've started to notice a change in our sweet baby. She's not a baby anymore. She's getting taller and slimmer and her hair is getting longer and longer. Looking at her, I see a little girl instead of a baby. She's also realized that she can make her own decisions and have her own preferences which includes everything from deciding she no longer likes a certain pair of shoes to prefering Barney over anything we want to watch. I've learned that what I want and what Anne Parks wants are often two very different things.Like on this day when I got to Anne Parks' school to pick her up and she decided that she wasn't ready to go. I was able to snap a picture of her running away.
Doesn't she look proud of her escape?

The following essay just arrived in the weekly newsletter I get from Parents.com. Jennifer Bowman has a unique perspective, and so much of what she says here reminds me of a day in our house!



Why We Love 2-Year-Olds: An Essay
By Jennifer E. Bowman

Terrible Twos?
Having a 2-year-old isn't so bad.
"Surely you jest!" I can almost hear you say. For some parents, the occasion when their little baby turns 2 -- and begins to act her age -- is more terrifying than the thought of a McDonald's indoor playland being closed on a rainy Saturday afternoon.
But I'm serious. My older daughter has me awed as I watch her make her way into terrible two-dom. Although I've been through this stage before with my son, it's been a while. The event makes for an interesting case study as my child changes from a sweet, loving baby into, well, a 2-year-old.

Here's Why We Love Them
Despite having what I consider expertise in the area (and being prepared for the worst), I still marvel at the way toddlers are equipped, at such a young age, to develop a mind completely of their own. So I do the only thing I can do: Try to maintain my sense of humor -- and my sanity -- by seeing her behavior in a new light. For instance:

1. When she takes a running leap and lands on top of me, she is
questioning whether she will always be able to lean on me. And because I always want her to know the answer is yes, I tolerate it.



2. When she yells "No!" and points her finger, returning the glare she undoubtedly learned from me, she is asserting herself. I couldn't be more relieved. I hope she will maintain that perseverance right into her teen years, when she can use it on any boy who dares to try to get fresh with her. And into her adult years, when her stubbornness will be called "determination."



3. When she attempts to stick a bobby pin she's found into the light socket, she is exploring her world and trying to discover how things work. Perhaps she'll be an engineer one day.



4. When she draws on the walls with a purple crayon, she is expressing her creativity. I try to think of her as an artist in training. And even more important, she is learning the value of leaving her mark on the world.



5. When she breaks my favorite lamp and flashes her award-winning smile just as I am coming toward her, she is practicing her people skills. Perhaps she'll be a great politician (though I hope she'd be the rare kind who maintains integrity).



6. When she tries to stuff the kitten into her brother's lunchbox, she is experimenting with spatial concepts.



7. When she wrestles with her brother over a toy, calling "Mine!" loud enough to be heard down the street, she is being bold and going for what she wants. I just hope that in the future, if she doesn't get her way, her solution won't be to bite in retaliation.



8. When she climbs our chain-link fence with bare feet, she is proving that no challenge is too difficult for her to meet. And when I discover her playing in the yard of the neighbors who live behind us, she is reaching beyond her own little world, refusing to be provincial.



9. When she lies on top of her 7-month-old sister, crushing the baby with enthusiastic hugs and kisses, she is unabashedly wearing her heart on her sleeve.



10. When she insists I read The Little Engine That Could to her again, for the seventh time in a row, she is teaching me patience.



11. When she dumps macaroni all over the kitchen floor, stops to acknowledge my "No!" by turning briefly to look at me, and then goes right back to what she was doing, she is showing her ability to follow through with a task.



12. When she gets tickled over something I take for granted -- the toast popping up from the toaster when it's browned, for instance -- she is blessing me unaware. How many times have I longed to see the world through the eyes of a child once again? Thanks to her, I can.



13. When I catch her trying to eat the cat's food, she is proving that she will not be a picky eater -- and that she has survival skills, which may come in handy later in life (especially if she ends up on some reality TV show).

14. When she gleefully rips off her dry diaper, throws it in the sink, and races for the toilet, then refuses to sit on it, she is exercising her prerogative to change her mind.

15. When I call her name and she immediately breaks into a sprint in the other direction, she is listening to her own inner voice and refusing to be a conformist.

16. When she suddenly decides to throw a tantrum in the middle of a restaurant, she is teaching me humility. And that leftovers reheated later at home usually taste just as good as food served fresh.

17. When she steps into my enormous shoes, which swallow her tiny feet, and clumsily tries to walk in them, she makes me reflect upon my great responsibility to provide a good role model for her to follow.

18. And when she stands on the kitchen table with no pants on, refusing to even put on a diaper, and dances... well, I can only think the worst about that. So I try not to read too much into it, because I am choosing to remain positive.