"Discipline" Success!

I mean, my kid is 22 months old, so there's really no such thing as discipline right now. I'm still figuring out how I feel about the whole "discipline" thing with a toddler. I've been reading up and I guess I fall somewhere in the middle: I don't think he "gets it" all of the time, but I do feel that in my home it's important for us to start laying the foundation of what is acceptable and what is not early.

I have a few friends that are all about the "redirection only" methods and to be honest, it just sounds like they live in households centered around their child and what he wants. For me, that feels like it would create a kid a few years down the road that would have a really tough time accepting rules and boundaries and other people's wishes.

So far, discipline has been frustratingly exhausting, mentally, physically, and emotionally. Jacob either doesn't realize he's being punished and sits in time out chattering to himself and playing with his shoes until I come over to have our "follow up", where he looks me in the eye and tells me what I want to hear so he can go play, or I get all-out tantrums complete with hitting, kicking, screaming and wailing. Neither is fun, or feels like we are getting anywhere.

But yesterday, I MIGHT have had a breakthrough!

Lately he wants us to carry him ALL.THE.TIME. He has begun refusing to walk on his own to/from daycare or anywhere, and just whines and tries to block our way until we cave. So I didn't cave. The process looked a little like this:

"Mama, hold again," while reaching up.
"No, we're going to hold hands and walk today," so I take his hand, and he instantly becomes a sack of potatoes, throwing himself to the ground and trying to wrench his shoulder out of socket. So I let go, let him tantrum, and say "I'm going to keep walking now".
"Bye," he screams at me through tears, until I get too far for comfort, then he runs towards me crying hysteerically as if I have just dropped him off at a baby insane asylum, never to return.
I stop, let him catch up, say, "are you ready to hold hands and walk now?"
"No, hold again," and lather, rinse, repeat.
This was our process all the way from his classroom to the front door. It took over 10 minutes.

I finally carried him outside and we sat on the bench. We had a nice chat while he was sitting in my lap about how I needed him to be a big boy and walk, and how I was never going to leave him behind, but I couldn't always carry him. And then I made a deal. "How about you hold my hand and we walk all the way across the parking lot, and if you can walk with me like a big boy, we'll go look at the bus up close?" THAT got his attention. And then we did...walk all the way across the parking lot. He was awesome, and I told him so.

And then I picked him up and carried him to the car. As a reward for both of us for staying calm (me) and listening to mommy (him).

Long Time Coming

I've needed a change. For a while, now. I mean, in most every area of my life. So, let me fill you in on what's been going on with me.

I'm fat. That's been established. I tried to start a "lifestyle change" in January, lost about 8 lbs, then gained 15. Three weeks ago, I was at my heaviest weight ever (not including pregnancy): 248lbs. So I joined myfitnesspal.com and hooked up with some amazingly motivating ladies from a message board I am on, and have lost 9 pounds in 3 weeks. My food diary is public, so the real motivating factor has been me knowing that other people can see what I'm eating. I do not like being judged on weight, especially not when I know it's utterly my fault for looking like this.

What I am even MORE proud of than the weight loss, though, is the fact that I have had fast food only once in the last three weeks, and had a Coke only twice. It's getting a craving, and still making the choice to eat something different when my mind is saying "Godiva chocolate cheesecake" that impresses me. I hate those diet articles in magazines that say crap like "when you want salty chips, eat veggies and hummus instead" or "choose a piece of fruit instead of a chocolate chip cookie". WTF? I don't want a freaking apple, and my body is smarter than that. If I give it nuts and an apple, it's going to cross it's arms and roll it's collective eyes and be all "this bitch HATES me". And then it will rebel.

But it hasn't. I feel more confident than ever that I can make the right choice 85% of the time, and forgive myself and let it go the other 15.

Also, in other news, I'm raising a toddler. And coming off the heels of the 18 months that I was most terrified of, I thought, this parenting thing is going to be so much easier than I expected. Pre-schoolers have always loved me, listened to me, and done whatever I asked them to. Um, yeah right. Schooled me. The last 6 months have been incredibly difficult as I have dealt with feelings of intense mommy guilt, not feeling like a good parent, not being patient enough, not giving my son enough credit for the great things he does, dwelling on the negative, and basically thinking that he would be better off with anyone besides me for a mom.

It's almost been like I caught post-partum depression, 18 months late.

So I started seeing a counselor. And while I won't go into detail, it has so far been so wonderfully freeing to listen to someone tell me that I'm normal, that I don't need to be embarrassed that I have more internet friends than real life friends, and that I should work on not worrying as much about what other people have going on and how it compares to me.

The only thing that has helped me get through this rough patch more than these appointments (other than a supportive husband who has definitely pulled more parenting duty lately to release some of my burden) are 22 of the most amazing women I have ever known. Every day they confirm for me that my child is not a hellion (or at least not the only 22-month old hellion out there) and that we will all get through this. So far it's been 3 years, give or take, that we've "known" each other, and I hope that it lasts a lifetime, whether we ever get to meet in person or not. And even though I tell them this on our page on occasion, I wanted some PUBLIC way to let them know how much they mean to me. You all know who you are, and I thank God every day for that fateful day when a handful of assorted women climbed into a "tub" together and let their guards down.

"Talent is Universal, Opportunity is Not"

Even my cold, dark, anti-socialism Libertarian heart can agree with the title's sentiment. People in all parts of the world, advantaged and disadvantaged, have the talent necessary to change themselves and the world around them. Unfortunately, in some areas, these people are struggling to survive and need a little boost to be able to activate that talent. One of my very best friends in the world works for an organization that helps give the people living in the largest slum in Kenya the means and motivation to do just that.

Goodreads is giving away a wonderful Memoir/Social Activism Manifesto (my words) book called It Happened on the Way to War by Rye Barcott. I recently had a chance to see Rye speak and give a presentation on the book and his charitable organization Carolina for Kibera. The book itself costs $26 in hardcover, a reflection of the $26 loan that Rye gave a struggling nurse to start a vegetable selling business. I have not finished my copy yet, but eventually this nurse turned this $26 (along with help from some others) into a health clinic in one of the poorest parts of the world.

I implore all of you to read this book! No matter where you stand politically, I think we can all agree that helping out our fellow human beings with no expectation of anything in return feels good and right and just, and this book and organization provides me with the drive to want to do more, as much as I can, physically and monetarily to help out people in need. Even if you do not have the means to buy the book or donate to this cause, check out this website: Powerof26.org  and take the 26-day challenge to find out more about what life in Kibera and other slums may be like.

And if you'd like a chance to win the book, please go here to enter the giveaway, there is only one day left! Goodreads.com is an awesome website for anyone who likes to read. You can find new books based on friends and strangers reviews of books they've read, and enter reviews of your own.

Vindication.

Today is quite a day for our American spirit, isn't it?

Last night as we were getting ready to go to bed, just before my husband clicked the power button on the remote, we saw that there was a Special Report coming. Strangely, my husband and I looked at each other as if we knew this was going to be big news. Special Reports come through all the time now...it seems that our media can't get through a regularly scheduled program if something so mundane as Lindsay Lohan leaving a club drunk or the Obamas' dog taking a leak on the South Lawn happens, so typically we just watch with mild interest and little to no expectation that something meaningful has actually occured.

And then we heard. And unexpectedly, tears started rolling. Now, some of my emotional reaction may be attributed to hormones. I am female, I was in that prime week for tears between ovulation and menses, when something as small as the dog deciding to roll in something nasty can send me into a fury that only ends with me crying while bathing her, a sobbing mess.

But the more I mull my feelings over, the more I feel that the tears were an entirely appropriate reaction. I lost no family in 9-11. I have no close family or friends that are active duty military, or even firefighters. But I am American, and I am human. I cried for all of the servicemen and women that have fought for our freedom for so long, and tried to explain to my husband how I felt so proud and happy for them, that they can finally feel as though all of this war has not been futile. We have now killed the mastermind behind the attack that changed so much about our country forever.

And as a Christian, I cried because the feelings of revenge and jubilation at another's lost life are difficult to reconcile. I am not supposed to rejoice over another human being's death, even after hearing him laugh at how the destruction of 9-11 was more than even he had imagined in all of his optimism. This is a man that rejoiced that more lives were lost than even he hoped for. What's wrong with mourning the death of a monster? Mostly, I rejoice because my Faith in Christianity comforts me. It helps me know that when I die, I will not be in the same pane of existence as Osama Bin Laden. Whether he has 99 virgins or the fires of hell, I will not be there with him.

Sadly, a day that all Americans should be enjoying is instead colored by the inane political punditing that follows any big announcement. I prefer to stay out of that fray. To imply any conspiracy theories about this being a political ploy to kick-off President Obama's re-election campaign is ridiculous and asinine. It is also calling our president a liar. That does not sit well with me. Policy-wise, I may disagree with how our President wants our country to be run in 90% of the major decisions to be made, but that does not diminish this important victory that our troops have carried out under his command. And I say shame on anyone who wants to make this about something it's not.

I, for one, and feeling vindicated.

WMW: A Perfect Day.

Linking up with my fellow WM's over at Working Mommy Wednesday!

Days like today are the best thing ever about being a working mom.

My son is sick. He has an infection in his left eye and left ear. (Sidenote: last night in the tub I asked him to show me his left hand, right hand, left foot, right foot, and he KNEW them. CRAZY!) There is a possibility that it is viral, so he had to stay home from daycare today.

Now, I have been swamped at work, I'm already short an employee, and I have a duty at work that I really have to be there to do. I don't have the kind of job that I can ever "work at home". But, being a om comes first and always will, and Wednesday is the best possible day for me to skip if I must. My mother, who usually can watch Jacob on short notice, is in Philadelphia visiting my week old nephew, and my hubby will already be staying home with the baby on Friday when daycare is closed. So today, it's mommy.

I did have to get some things done, though, so after the doctor's appointment and picking up antibiotics, we drove into Raleigh to my office and my coworkers played with Jacob while I took care of some things. After that it was almost time for Daddy's lunch break, and we were passing his office on the way home anyway, so we swung by to show our greatest achievement off and then all had a family lunch date.

Now, the boy is getting some much needed rest while Mama is catching up on some much needed blogging (and online bra-shopping) time. I have been needing to purchase some new bras for ages. I weaned completely two months ago, and stopped nursing during the day when I would be wearing a bra LONG before that, so there is NO excuse for me to still be wearing nursing bras. Except that work has blocked my favorite bra website as inappropriate, so I can't even shop during my lunch break.

So, that's what this mama is doing today, and it's glorious. Now I shall retire downstairs to inventory and put away everything that arrived in our Produce Box today and do some cooking.

Proud to be...From NC!

I know, I know. It seems like the once monthly posts I've been making have all been asking for money for one charity or another. But as a Libertarian who feels very passionately about not letting the government decide what causes my money needs to support, the flip side is that I feel very strongly about people who are thankful for what they have (and by all accounts recognize that there are others in more dire straits than they) give passionately and freely of their time, money, and resources to help those that need a boost.

This weekend and today, I am proud to see these mantras in action across my community as locals mobilize with the Red Cross, the SPCA, and other non-profits to help their neighbors that fared less fortunate from the rash of tornadoes that bombarded our state. Our local radio shows this morning were broadcasting from sites around Raleigh, helping drive food and cash donations to the areas that need them most. I was one of the lucky ones: sandwiched safely with at least a 5 mile buffer from either tornado that passed northwest and southeast of us.

Don't get me wrong, having a child makes those of us who used to be the vaguely amatuer storm-chasing type turn suddenly into Supermom. Luckily we never had to wake our sleeping babe up, but I can promise you that if my downstairs half bathroom had anything else stored in it during the two hours we watched the local newstation and waited to see if it would be our turn next, we would not have been able to fit in there. I had blankets, an overnight bag, for DS, snacks and juice, a weather radio, a flashlight, my purse with all keys and cell phones and wallets stashed safely inside, and our video and point and shoot cameras. If we had to leave our house after a tornado, I was prepared.

For others in my community, like the mother who lost two of her four children while huddled inside their trailer's closet, or the families who have lost everything but their lives and the clothes on their backs, I am impassioned to help as I have seen so many others doing today. I need to donate my bag of food to the food bank, and I also need to take that small bonus I got from work and put it to good use with the American Red Cross. If you feel impassioned to do the same, I would be ever so appreciative. As one of the rare North Carolinians who were actually born and raised here, I care about it's people. My people.

I'm Doing Something Good for a Change!

The March of Dimes is one of those organizations that just work. Who doesn't love babies, right?

I have personal experiences with premature birth. Without the technological advances made possible by the research and development supported by the March for Babies, I wouldn't have my son. Mostly because my husband would not have survived after being born at 32 weeks way back in the 1970's.

I cannot imagine how different my life would be if I hadn't met my husband. I may have never wanted kids, I wouldn't have the awesome network of in-laws that are really just my family as much as my own blood relatives are. I wouldn't have the most hilarious, precocious, prissy 3 year old niece in the world, who makes me laugh the way she loves to boss her little cousin Jacob around. I may have never understood the blinding pain that a loss to premature birth causes for the parents and everyone who already loved a little girl we were waiting to meet.

I am walking this year in honor of all of these things, and I hope that any of you who feel moved donate to help prevent more heartache in the future. You can use the button on the side of my page to donate, and I never see any of your info: your money goes straight to the March of Dimes.