Aw, not the swicks again!

Poor G is sick with a cold. Someone needs to tell him though because he doesn't seem to be aware of it. He still tries to go and go but it's not at his normal gusto speed.

I could tell he didn't feel good AFTER the neighbor girls left on Wednesday. Oy. I called their momma to warn her that G was running a fever and had coughed a few times. I felt like such a jerk, we don't get to see them much as it is and here I go infecting them. Oy. She was fine with it but I still felt like apologizing 100 times.

He loves it when he gets to play with the girls. They were very interested in building train tracks this time which just made him glow.
This is immediately after I gave him some cough medicine. He said, "Ah dat feel better." And then smiled.
And within 20 minutes he was asleep.
He got "the chair" from daddy since daddy felt bad that he isn't feeling good.

"Thanks mommy, I feel all better now!"

Then yesterday he kept asking to go outside. "Mommy I feel great, we go outside and play?" It was a beautiful day out and I figured if he feels good (still warm to the touch and coughing a little) what's the harm in a little sun and fresh air. Since Elk Summit road is being maintained down to the fish hatchery now I asked him if maybe he wanted to go down to the pond and see how frozen it still is. He did but he didn't want to wear his snow shoes, he wanted to go on the sled (not sled as in snow machine, actual plastic sled being powered by...me!). So we went over there, I strapped on my shoes and put him on the sled and off we went. We had come around a corner when we both immediately noticed what appeared to be a horse on the road in front of us. Then it turned around and started barking at us. This is not a normal occurence you see and G's first reaction was, "I go pet him!" Oy, how about no. I told G we needed to wait for some people. Next thing we hear? More barking and a large (not horse sized this time) black and white spotted dog appeared, barking at us. Hm, surely no one would have left their animals out here so we stayed kind of still and waited.

A black lab showed up, snarling at us most of all but thankfully then three figures on cross country skis came around the corner yelling at the dogs. It was a local Forest Service firefighter and a woman that works for F&G and her dad. The two of them live up here and her dad was visiting and they were out "walking" the dogs. I'd expect to trip on a moose or deer or even a coyote before running into more humans so it was odd but nice! Remember the aforementioned horse? A 1.5 year old great dane. Holy lotta dog, Batman! What a giant sweetheart though! He thoroughly licked the snot from G's face and G wanted to strap a saddle on it and ride it. After chatting for a little while they went their way and we continued on to the pond.

I have noticed that in pictures my gray hair is even more apparent. I wouldn't mind except I think it makes me look more like my brother. Ew. Well I have photographic proof of where my gray hairs come from as G decided he needed to NOT listen to mommy and walk out onto the pond. It's been warm here lately so I am really not sure about the ice's thickness. Well he got out far enough for me to start hollering at him and he stopped and looked at me with a surprised look and said, "You hear dat? I'm making the pond hatch." Good Lord, child, GET OFF THE ICE!

We continued on through the campground and over to the river. The snow hadn't been disturbed over there for awhile so even with snowshoes on I was sinking up to mid-thigh because of how soft (from warmth) the snow was. We got down to the river so G could throw rocks in the water, his favorite pasttime. I had been asking him how he felt and he kept answering with, "I feel great mommy!" and, "Ooh, fresh air!" All of a sudden G said to me, "Wook mommy, the sky is so gray." Sure enough, because I'm an idiot and hadn't noticed, the sky was gray. Like threatening gray. Aw crap. Within a few minutes of him pointing this out to me the sky opened up and poured down rain. So now we're about as far away from the car as we can get on that road and it's raining and the temperature has dropped and I've got a sick child in a sweatshirt (and snowbibs and hat and gloves). I basically ran back to the car pulling G on the sled. I say "basically ran" because for the first 1/8 of a mile I sunk with every step I took. Once we got onto more compact ground I took off my snowshoes since they kept catching on the front of the sled I was pulling behind me. That made it more fun, I could move a little faster except now it was much more slick. Oh boy. About 3/4 of a mile later (and all uphill I'll add) I saw the car around the bend and silently cheered because I was out of breath and coooooooooold and soaked. G was still happy as a clam but I knew this couldn't be good for him.

Our sweet neighbors had their grandkids over the weekend so shortly after we got home they came over to get G so he could go sledding with them. I told them he couldn't and it broke my heart to say that because I knew he would love it. But he had just warmed up and was coughing a lot more.

The next day (Saturday) they called to see if he was feeling better. He was and he wasn't but I left it up to him and he wanted to go. So I bundled him up and we went over to where they were sledding. G went up once and then spent the rest of the time laying down on the ice and snow and sometimes a sled before declaring that he wanted to go home. This child, asking to go home and not be outside? That's sheer craziness. I knew he didn't feel good then. Later we went over to the neighbors house for dinner and G did a lot better since they were inside playing. He ran around like his normal crazy self. For about the first hour, then you could see the sick start to creep back in.

He got stuck with his butt down in the tube but thankfully Uncle Ron was there to help him!
He started to just laze around, either on the ground or on a sled.
"Mommy, I wanna go home."
Yep, that's G, the nature boy, going home.
He came inside and had some warm chocolate milk. Doesn't he look pitiful?

When we got home we had to give the dogs a bath because Crash had found something dead to roll in (oh joy) and no sooner had we finished bathtime (G gets in the shower to run the water on the dogs for me) and gotten pj's on and G was asleep. Phew, finally!

This morning G woke up announcing, "Uh oh, I'm swick. I no feel good." Duh, buddy, we've known this since Wednesday but it's nice to hear you finally acknowledge it. He's cuddling on the couch with his daddy right now watching NASCAR and I'm supposed to be working. I was hoping that last night this would break but he's worse today than he has been so maybe we'll get lucky and tonight will be his over the hump night. Otherwise I'm going to have to find some more cough medicine in town for him tomorrow.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to try to figure out the right cough medicine for a kid? Sometimes I wish there weren't so many choices but last time he was sick (which was the beginning of the year) I spent 30 minutes in the medicine aisle trying to figure out which one to get him. Four boxes and $35 later I came out with what turned out to be only one that worked for him.

Goodbye (road trip day #4)

G wouldn't let me leave Nana Greats house until I promised him that we'd come back. I'm sure it's just because of all the train fun and not necessarily because of Nana Greats house itself but that's okay. I was sad to know that it might be awhile until we get to see my Aunt's Kris and Linda again since they live all the way in TN. We didn't get to see much of Linda because she was busy taking care of her husband and Nana Great.

Oh but here's another G funny. Linda was in the upstairs bathroom getting ready for the day. Nana Great was in the bathroom downstairs. G informed me that he needed to go poop. I told him that both bathrooms were taken and I asked him if he could hold it for just a little while. He said yes. A few minutes later I didn't see G anywhere and I didn't hear him. I wouldn't put it passed him to hide and poop so I started to look for him. I finally found him when Linda yelled from the bathroom, "He's in here!" Yes, my child had let himself into the bathroom and sat down to poop while poor Linda was still in the bathroom getting ready. He has no boundaries.

We stopped in Lakeside and had lunch with my internet mommy friend V and her 3 year old and older daughter. They had a soup modeled after a Reuben sandwich and it was actually pretty darn good! It was corned beef chunks and very thinly sliced cabbage and they made croutons with rye bread.

We stopped in town on the way home and picked up some groceries. G had fallen asleep just outside I90 and I woke him up to go into the Walmart. He wasn't upset but he wasn't fully awake until he quickly told me, "Uh oh, I need to pee pee." What is it about the Walmart that makes this child HAVE to pee RIGHT now?

We got home around 8 pm. That means we spent nine hours travelling. Man oh dear I'm lucky that G is such an easy traveler. Seriously, who else has a three year old that will not only put up with that much time in a car seat but enjoy it?

And lastly, here is the album of pictures, in case for some reason the slideshows don't work for you. You can only access the pictures if you have the link since the album is privatized.

http://photobucket.com/march2012libbyvisit

shut the door!!!!!!!!!!!!!

There has always been a steadfast rule at Granny B's house. SHUT THE DOOR. No door to the outside is to be left open unnecessarily lest flies get in. Man, I can hear her yelling at us through the kitchen window, "SHUT THE DOOR!" Anytime a train came by during the day when we were at Granny Great's house G would run to the back door and stand with it open so he could hear it better, insisting that the train was in fact in the back yard. No matter who told him or how many times he was told that the train is across the highway G would open the back door. It's cold in MT in March! Here he is after being chastised again for standing with the back door open, after having pilfered one of Nana Great's birthday balloons.

What spawn of Bob Broden hasn't done this on those stairs at least a few times?

Swing that bridge (road trip day #3)

More train hunting! That was the first thing G said to me when we woke up. He asked to go back to the train station but I wanted to find somewhere else to take him and we ended up at Kootenai Falls and the Swinging Bridge which is outside of town. There is a cool train bridge that goes right over two sets of tracks so I figured what better spot to watch a train or watch for trains, that way he could look down on it going below us. Yeah, my plan didn't work because the trains messed with me. We hiked down to that bridge and waited, no train. I suggested that we go ahead and hike out to the swinging bridge and maybe by the time we got back there would be another train. About 3/4 of the way to the swinging bridge what do we hear? Damn train going by of course but we were too far to get back t0 the train bridge. That's alright, now we can play on the swinging bridge (if it wasn't occupied) if G would even go on it. He didn't just go on it, he loved it. He's afraid of butterflies but you put him on a suspended bridge over a dangerous river and he has no fear. Weird kid.

About 20 minutes after the aforementioned train came another one. Damnit! We finished up our fun on the swinging bridge and headed back to the train bridge...and waited...and waited...and waited. No train. I let him wait as long as he wanted, long enough for him to pee off the bridge while laughing maniacally. Over an hour he waited and by then I was cold, time to go and no train under us. Bummer.

Since it was actually Nana Great's birthday Kathy brought out a ham she had cooked and some other deliciousness. A cousin of mine contributed as well (best potato salad I've ever tasted). That same cousin's two boys (7 and almost 10) were there and so G happily had some playmates! They taught him how to play hide and go seek outside. G loved "pwaying wiff doe's boys" for the remainder of the evening.

I was outside playing hide and seek (and was the seeker again because apparently when you're the old person out there that's your sole duty) and G informed me that he needed to go potty. I was trying to help my cousin's son out of a tree and when I turned around G was gone. Oy. I went running into the house where everyone inside was laughing uproariously. I knew why. "Did he drop trou already?" I asked while heading after him. "YES!" We keep trying to explain to him that if he waits until he gets into the potty before pulling his pants down he can get there faster. Nope, not G, he does it his way. I caught up to him as he was making the last few steps at the top of the stairs with his pants around his ankles (apparently he forgot there is a bathroom on the first floor?). That couldn't have been an easy climb. He did his thing and back outside we went.

He fell gloriously and heavily asleep that night. Though not heavily enough to miss every.single.train that came through of course. At least he's predictable, right?

Blown away (road trip day #2)

We woke up the next morning and after a super quick breakfast we went "train hunting." I knew this would happen if we went to Nana Great's house. Some of my family members kept making remarks about G's train obsession but it's not a bad obsession or anything. He wanted to see his favorite "thing" and he doesn't get to see them in real life but a couple of times a year. We went down to the train station (which is now an Amtrak station that comes through twice a day) and waited to see a train (or two). We didn't see one until much later but one of the first things we did see was a bald eagle. Super cool!

We found an abandoned gondola car off on a side track (rip track anyone?) and it had to be inspected. Since it had a couple of ladders on it of course G needed to climb them. He wanted to get in the car but that wasn't going to happen. Can you imagine the grossness in there? He had climbed to the top of the ladder and was a little hesitant coming down so I told him to wait just a second and I would help him. Apparently to him, "Wait just a second and I will help you" meant, "Just let go." That was a pretty long fall for a three year old boy but he came out of it unscathed, though mad about me not catching him and crying at the fear of falling.

Finally, when we were almost back to the station I said to G, "I think I hear one!" Sure enough, a train was coming down the line. We got back to the station and waited for it and stood on the platform. It didn't slow down and the track was pretty close to the station so it was loud. And thanks to it's speed it kicked up a nice, big wind that knocked G back a few steps. It scared him so he hid behind my leg but watching all the while. It was cold outside anyway but the wind coming off that train was even colder. We were wind blown and pink cheeked when the train was gone and so we got in the car so we could get down to Aunt Kathy's shop to get prettified.

I had asked my aunt if she could cut G's hair for me. I think she's cut everyone's hair in our family, the poor, overworked woman. I warned her that G doesn't sit still very long to begin with but throw in the terror of scissors cutting by his ear and he'll only last a few minutes before freaking out. In true G fashion, he played me for a fool. He was great for her, sitting so patiently and listening when she gave him instruction. He even smiled a few times. So it really is just me that he doesn't want to follow instructions for. This bodes well for home schooling, no? I got highlights in my hair which was nice since I don't do that anymore. I couldn't believe again how well behaved G was when I was getting my hair done. He didn't mess with any of the products around the shop and I rarely had to distract him from what he was doing. I think Aunt Kathy's cookies might have had something to do with that. I need the recipe for those because I had one too and it was gooooooooooooood!

*(hint, hint Aunty)*

We got to spend some time at Aunt Kathy's house with my uncle Tim. Some deer showed up and Tim took G outside to feed them some apples. G isn't the most stealth walker but hopefully that will come with age! Then it was back to Nana Great's house for bedtime and a repeat of, "Momma you hear dat train?" allllllllllllllllllll niiiiiiiiiiiiiight looooooooooooong.

Nana Great & the birthday party (road trip day #1)

G and I took a road trip to Kalispell (and Libby) because my Granny (herein referred to as Nana Great since that's what G calls her) was having a birthday party there. She turned 86 years old on the 18th. Eighty-six, can you imagine? I can't hardly imagine 36 at this point and I'm only a few years away from that. We left home for the four hour drive at about 11 am on the 16th and ran some errands in town on the way up. For some reason my GPS decided we needed to take the scenic route around Flathead Lake. I was confused at first but I'm glad it directed me that way because it was a new route for me and it was a lovely drive and lovely day.

I didn't even have my spirits squashed by the MHP officer that pulled me over. I was on the phone with E and had said something about the fact that I didn't know what the speed limit was where I was at and he said something about it being 70 mph on MT highways. I told him that it usually dropped in populated areas and that I couldn't see doing 70 mph on this particularly windy, narrow road. Very shortly thereafter I see MHP coming from the opposite direction AND a 50 mph sign. I looked down and saw that I was over 60 mph. Oy. I watched him go by and hit his brakes and I told E, "I'll call you back, I'm about to get pulled over." E is laughing like an asylum patient, of course. I see that there's a small cafe on the opposite side of the road coming up so I just pulled in there so the patrolman wouldn't have to worry about making a stop with no shoulder of the road. He came along shortly and let me know he clocked me at 61 mph. I said, "Yeah, that's about what I saw too, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying very good attention." That right there (admitting I screwed up) got me out of the ticket. Phew! I have better things to spend money on than fines to add to the coffers of the state of MT.

After chatting up the patrolman for a little while G and I were on our way again. Until I noticed a small "beach" (beach in MT is a relative term) so we had to stop and get out and stretch...and throw rocks into the lake of course. It was a gorgeous but windy day and the lake was loud! We got back in the car and I realized that between my meet and greet with the local highway patrolman and our stop to play we were going to be late to Nana Great's party. My bad. We got there about 30 minutes late but we weren't the latest ones (my family is never known for being on time) thank goodness. G got lots of loves from everyone as most of the people there were my aunts and uncles or 2nd cousins, etc. It was awesome to get to see so many people!!!

I had been chatting with someone and I noticed that G had disappeared from my periphery. Uh oh. I went on the search for him. Since we had taken over the conference room a quick glance let me know that he wasn't there. I went through the main part of the restaurant and no G. I went into the women's room, no G. I cracked open the door to the men's room and called his name, no G. I went back to the conference room to ask my uncle to go into the men's room and see if G was in there, by now trying not to panic, knowing the horrid things that have been done to little boys in mens rooms (well hello paranoid Cyn, how have you been?). All of a sudden I saw G out of the corner of my eye and notice that he's walking funny. I start towards him and he slipped behind the cash register counter when I was going around him and that's when I noticed that his pants were around his ankles. Oh lord help me. I started to run around the corner but he was able to make it back into the conference room and show his naked tushy off to everyone. I was half a step behind him and I scooped him up and pulled up his britches in no time but it didn't matter, everyone saw his goods. He said to me, "Mommy I need hewp, I need go poop." I take off to the bathroom with him and every diner in the restaurant is watching me and laughing because they too had seen G in all his glorious nature. Poor little monkey had gone into the mens room, pulled down his pants and tried to get on the potty to do his thing but he couldn't so he'd come looking for me to help him. So I helped him do his thing and then we returned to the party.

It's a good thing that I lost my embarrassed/shamed trigger awhile ago huh? I have no doubt that there's more of these kinds of innocent little boy shenanigans to come anyway.

He stayed awake during the almost two hour drive to Libby, way past his bedtime. He helped me break into Nana Greats house (okay so maybe I know where they keep the hide-a-key) since they had left the party after us and we unloaded our luggage. We proceeded to make the beds for ourselves upstairs. We got to sleep on the bunkbeds (which are now two separate beds) that I grew up sleeping on when visiting Grandma's house.

Now here's the fun part. Nana Greats house is across the highway from railroad tracks and a crossing. G woke up several times that night when a train would come through. "Mommy? Wake up! You hear dat? I hear a train!" Oh my sweet, train loving child. "G PLEASE GO BACK TO SLEEP!" I used to love hearing the train at night and actually slept best at my granny's house because of the highway noise and train noise. I'm not so lucky as an adult, that stuff was loud and kind of annoying. Except for how excited G got about it all; that made it worth every one of his wake-up calls.

cutie G

G and I were working on painting some Easter related printables, a quiet activity so that Daddy could take an uninterrupted nap. I got bored so I started painting an easter egg on G's face. That's when he told me needed to be an easter bunny. I looked up instructions on the internet (seriously, Google is a mother's best friend) and had at it. I can't believe how patiently he sat while I painted all of his face. I'm no artist so it's not high quality or anything but he loved it. I let him take a paintbrush to my face but I could only take getting poked in the eye so many times before I called an end to that fun. Oh and he kept insisting that he needed to paint my teeth and no matter how much I kept my lips clamped he'd shove the paintbrush between them to get to my teeth. But it was still fun!
G calls this his spyglass. Hey, it's kind of true! He loves to use it to examine certain things (like Tow Mater's tow rigging) very closely and tell me all about it. But mostly he loves to make one giant eye because that gives him the power giggles.
I tried to talk G into a different animal but I made the mistake of asking him what he wanted me to paint on him this time. A train, of course, was his answer. Remember, I'm not an artist. I used a stencil, ha, and this was the only way I could get it to fit on his face. I actually used face paint this time but it was really crummy stuff from Walmart. It's three days later and three baths later and you can still see some of the remnants on his face. I painted a passenger car, a coal car and a caboose down his back too. He said, "I have tattoo wike mommy and daddy." I'll paint on him with facepaint or washable markers for the rest of his life if it keeps him from getting tattoos. I don't regret mine and in fact I still love them, I just don't want them for G. There's my first act of admitting to being a hypocrite.

Yesterday g spent several hours wandering around in a turtle costume that he has. It's a little snug on him but he doesn't really care. I tried to show him how a turtle walks on all fours but before I knew it, he had out his Spongebob Hopper Ball (the kind they sit on with the handle on it) and he was informing me that he's the kind of turtle that hops. I considered arguing with him but heck, there could be a species of turtle somewhere that is able to hop. After awhile he started to peel the costume off and told me, "I need be boy again."

I made homemade stroganoff for dinner last night and G, our non-eater took a few bites and I asked him how it was? He said very clearly, "Good job mommy dis berry nummy!" G isn't the type to compliment freely and especially not about food, which he sees only as a cruel necessity to getting to continue what he really wants to do. I think E was hurt because G certainly didn't make such an announcement about his spaghetti or hamburger helper. Mommy for the win!!!!!!

G's been watching a new cartoon called Mike the Knight. It's actually really cute. He was running around in his underwear when he spotted....a screwdriver. I grabbed it and put it in his waistband down through the leghole of his underwear, informing me, "I'm a knight, I do it right!" and, "I be Mike the Knight!" Well it just so happens that I had already found him a knight costume complete with sword and shield, etc. He's going to be tickled. He already has a dragon cape but something tells me that will be retired to, "Mommy has to wear it and growl" while G gets to be the cool knight. I love pretend play!!!

G's had tummy problems for the last few days and last night he sharted. Poor kiddo. After he got done with his bath I gave him some generic immodium. I told him that it would make his tummy feel better and therefore it would help his butt not hurt. That's how we know he has the power poops because he'll tell us his butt hurts and he needs booty medicine. After about five minutes G sighed a big, contented sigh and said, "Ah, dat's better." "What's better kiddo?" "My booty feels better from dat medcine. I all fixed."

This morning G crawled into bed with me and kissed me on the forehead. I pretended to stay asleep so he kissed me again, on the nose. I smiled and he said, "Mommy?" Then he kissed me on the eye. I opened my eyes and he said, "Yay, you're awake! I so happy to see you dis morning." It was quite the sweet wake up call. He crawled under the covers and curled up and put his arms around me. That's when I noticed something was not quite right. I said, "Uh, did you pee pee your pants?" "Yeah, I'm wet, sorry." Oy. I cuddled him for another minute or so since what's the harm? Now all my bedding is in the laundry. It was time to wash it anyway, right?

I'm going to send myself to the corner for a time out...

http://www.ahaparenting.com/parenting-tools/positive-discipline/handling-anger

I'm a yeller, I've admitted it freely. I don't like that I'm a yeller, I never have but I also have never really done much to stop either. I yelled at G the other day and he took it very personally. His eyes welled up with tears and I felt like a complete asshole. Mommy's aren't supposed to be assholes. I've read before that yelling at or spanking a child is a form of humiliation and shame and who wants to feel those things? But isn't a little humility a good thing? But the shame part, well, that's just not nice.

Then I was doing some research for some ways to "fix" what G does that makes me get to the point that I yell. What parent doesn't get tired of saying the same thing over and over again? I do. And his lack of focus drives me up a wall. I realize that it's not inherent for a three year old boy to be able to focus for very long but some days it feels like he won't/can't focus for more than a nanosecond and that he does it just to drive me insane. I say won't/can't because one thing I have figured out about my child is that things have to be on his terms for him to be involved. I can say, "Let's go outside!" and he'll refuse to go outside. But within ten minutes he's telling me he wants to go outside. If it's his idea, he'll do it. If it's not his idea he'll push back and/or refuse. Sometimes it's infuriating.

So in my quest to have a more calm life in general, this needs to be addressed and hopefully I can find ways to communicate my displeasure to G in a nicer way.

Imagine your husband or wife losing their temper and screaming at you. Now imagine them three times as big as you, towering over you. Imagine that you depend on that person completely for your food, shelter, safety, protection. Imagine they are your primary source of love and self-confidence and information about the world, that you have nowhere else to turn. Now take whatever feelings you have summoned up and magnify them by a factor of 1000. That is something like what happens inside your child when you get angry at him.

Holy wow, did you imagine it as the article said it? I know I've been yelled at a few times as an adult and it's unsettling and sometimes scary. If it was the person who means the most in my world yelling down at me, I'd lose myself in a puddle of tears, even as an adult now! If I speak calmly or quietly to G he just ignores me. I have to raise my voice to actually get his attention to me. I use that to justify my yelling but that's still not right. Then I read this and it clicked...

If your young child does not seem afraid of your anger, it’s an indication that he or she has seen too much of it and has developed defenses against it -- and against you.

Ouch, what have we done?

What about screaming? Never at your children, that's a tantrum.

It is nothing but a 5'02" tantrum. I put myself on his level by being out of control with my anger and not expressing it in a better way. I have been known to give myself a time out but with G that doesn't really work because he knows and he thinks that he can then do whatever he wants to do. If I laugh or hum or any other "calming" activity isn't he going to read that as this is funny, I should do it some more?

You might try to find a way to laugh, which discharges the tension and shifts the mood. Stop, breathe, remind yourself it isn't an emergency. Shake the tension out of your hands. Take ten more deep breaths. If you need to make a noise, hum.

But guess what I do when I'm scared? I laugh and make jokes. It makes sense that my spawn might inherit that fight of flight mechanism, right?

Exiting does not let your child win. It impresses upon them just how serious the infraction is, and it models self-control.

Are you sure? Because it sure seems like I'm telling him that he's winning. Whatever behavior I'm yelling at him for can continue if I'm not in the room. If I'm yelling at him to do something, it's not like he's going to do it if I leave the room.

Despite the popular idea that we need to “express” our anger so that it doesn’t eat away at us, there’s nothing constructive about expressing anger to another person.

Oooh, guilty. Right here on this blog. Bad me. I guess by express they mean physically because sometimes it helps me to talk to someone about what's making me angry because they can offer some insight on a similar situation they've been in and the approach they have taken, etc.?

...study after study has proven that spanking has a negative impact on children’s development that lasts throughout life.

Okay, so here begins the camp of spankers versus non-spankers. I was about to say, "Well I was spanked and I didn't turn out any worse for the wear." Uh...aren't I the one talking about the fact that I yell at my child too much? My dad was a yeller, mostly because we could outrun him but aren't I just a sitting, typing example of what this article is saying, that yelling (and even spanking) carries over from parent to child and that child as a parent to his/her child, etc.? The cycle of abuse applies to what is most often applied to aggregious abuse but it certainly applies to yelling and spanking, right?

If you can’t control yourself and end up resorting to physical force, apologize to your child, tell him hitting is never ok, and get yourself some help.

Good gravy, are people really doing that? Hitting their child to the point that they need to apologize? Well, yes, people considered child abusers are. I've popped G on the butt to get his attention but never to actually HURT him. G's a very physical child and responds to actual physical movements versus verbal cues.

To get rid of anger, look at the hurt or fear under the anger.

Ah, such as, "My child is a brat and I don't want people to like him and want to be around him?" Or, "If he doesn't listen to me about something as simple as this will he become an ax murderer because that too I tell him is wrong?" Or my personal favorite, "If I don't correct his behavior right now people will see that I fail as a parent?" Yeah, that kinda fear.

12. Choose your battles.

Every negative interaction with your child uses up valuable relationship capital.

I am pretty good at choosing my battles but I think a big part of the picture is pretty clear. E and I have different things we choose to battle G over. Say, for instance, tooth brushing. That is a battle I'm willing to fight. It's not as important to E. G knows this and will play us against each other. But the last sentence up there is what I fear, that I'm wasting time being mad and that yelling at him is eating up time that I could be/should be loving on him.

Whew, there's my confession of the day. Oh dear, sweet, pigheaded son of mine...someday when I'm old, gray(er) and feeble read this and know that I didn't "mean" to scare you or hurt you.

Stopping in

I'm exhausted so I'm stopping in just a second. Exhausted in a good way. Exhausted in a physically exerting myself on a regular basis and accomplishing a lot and having good days kind of ways. So much so that I'm hoping to sleep tonight, mostly through the whole night (G willing) without any sleep medications. PLEASE.

I made G a little bed on the floor next to our bed because we're just not sleeping. We're waking up to check and see where he is, trying to herd him back to his bed a few times a night and get him back to sleep and then return to our bed, etc. It's not night terrors because he doesn't wake up screaming and crying, etc. It might be sleep walking but I just don't know. I tried shutting the door to his room with the child proof cover on the door knob and all that does is make him s.c.r.e.a.m. and it certainly doesn't make him go back to bed on his own (which worked when he was younger). And it's the terrified scream, not the pissed off or hurt or anything scream, absolute terror. But he's fully awake and very conscious so that's what I mean by it not being a night terror. He talks about it all the time, how he was "locked in his room" and couldn't get out. He never used the word "scared" until E asked him if he wasn't staying in his own bed because he was scared.

Regardless, I'm hoping this is just a phase (it's only been like a month now) and if he comes into our room and has a little bed on the floor and covers, pillow, etc. then maybe E and I won't be constantly waking throughout the night and looking to see if he's curled up on our floor sound asleep. Or checking the living room to see if he's on the couch or in the recliner so we can cover him with a blanket. Maybe this way we can get some better sleep. So this post serves as nothing more than a time stamp to see when the bed on the floor thing began so I can reference back to it.

GOOD.NIGHT.

please let it be a good night.

1096 days you've been gone, Dad

Dear Dad,

E has taught G the "pull my finger" game. Somethings tells me if you were still here those would have been among G's first words. Have you been watching him when he rides his bike? We're not too great about remembering to make him wear his helmet but I figured I never wore a helmet and I'm alive to tell the story, right? I know if I were to ask your counsel on this subject I'd be told, "Just let him be a kid!" Maybe you could help me convince E to get G a trampoline (the safest one with the side netting and all that jazz for his 4th birthday. Yep, he's going to be 4 in June. I used to roll my eyes when you'd make comments about how being a dad was your life's ambition and greatest achievement, etc. Being a mom is my greatest joy, hands down.

Your first granddaughter was born, but I'm guessing you know that. She's a gorgeous little thing isn't she? I know, looks aren't important but I can't help but want to kiss all over her sweet face. She's a handful, just like her momma and I just love her to bits. Sarah can't stop buying her pretty things and G has been talking about her before she even arrived in July and ever since. I can't speak for you but I wonder if you are as disappointed in your second son's behavior as the rest of us are. It's hard to imagine that any child of yours would pick his desires over his child's needs or let someone walk away with that child but that's what has happened. I remember you going to marriage counseling and I remember watching struggles in your marriage once I was adult enough to notice them. You never gave up and you always fought for the sacrament of the institution of marriage. I believe pretty solidly that if you were here and he had had someone to talk to instead of turning to a bottle the current situation would be quite different.

I know it's selfish of me to say it but I hate that I'm "losing" a part of our family in Lisa but I promise that I won't let her get away from us that easily. She's the mother of your granddaughter and my niece and that won't change no matter what kind of stupid decisions your son makes. Lisa's a good girl and a good mommy and it breaks my heart to know she's in so much pain. I know God has a plan but the selfishness of your son is still really hurtful to a lot of people. Now sweet B and Lisa are moving back to NYC, thousands of miles away and G will not get to grow up nearby to the cousin he adores. B is already seven months old and crawling and she brings her mommy and grandma Mary Ann lots of joy.

A lot of my childhood memories have my cousins in them and I know you could say the same. How did you manage to, as the adult years went by, keep in touch with all of that big family anyway? You would have joined Facebook just for that reason and you would have gotten a kick out of it. But if you'd sent me any of those stupid Farmville or Mafia Wars apps I would have ignored you just like I do everyone else.

If you were here I'd have at least one person I know that any time, any place, would love to see G. It's hard for me that no one seems to really want to spend much time here or specifically with him. Well except Sarah of course, but she can't motor under her own power anymore so she's kind of at the mercy of my schedule. I'll tell you about that later. I love this kid with every teeny little fiber of me and it's hard to imagine that not everyone loves him that much. I'll bet you'd call here just to talk to him, only going through me and E out of necessity to get to the boy. I'll bet you would have been here more than three or four times in all of 2011. But you also wouldn't have driven by the turnoff at milepost 77 at least once a month without ever thinking of us, only of your destination.

You used to talk to me about how you were worried about Sarah and how close she was to you and Mom specifically, wondering if she'd be able to be independent and move away from home. It was hard on her but not only did she leave home but she went to college. Not only did she go to college, she graduated. Yep, you would have played the role of proud father of a college graduate quite well if you'd been given the chance. When they called her name at graduation this past May I choked on a sob because I could almost hear you whoppin' and hollerin' for her. I would have been embarrassed because you had such a loud voice! And when she graduated from college she got an apartment of her own and lives there by herself, paying her bills and just getting through each day. It's hard on her in a lot of ways but I know you're watching over her and helping God heal her heart.

Remember how you apologized for your "crappy genes" when I was diagnosed with RA? Well in a way I'm glad that you died before Sarah started to decline because you'd be heartbroken watching what's happening to her. I know you taught us that "there's no such thing as fair," but this is pretty darn unfair.

You asked me if I thought she'd be able to find a man to love who she wouldn't compare to you as the ideal. Well dying sure didn't help that, Dad, or shall I call you the pariah? Joking aside, it's easier to remember the good things about you than the not as good things and it seems like the longer you're gone the more fondly you're remembered. Odd that we do that isn't it? I'd rather have told you 100 million times when you were alive than have my heart whisper it now.

This whole letter to you seems pretty angry doesn't it? The last three years have held a lot of disappointment, anger, selfishness, hurtful behavior and words, and a myriad of other emotions. I know you were always the first one to tell me, "Think before you speak, daughter," but believe me when I tell you I've been thinking before speaking for a long time now so I mean what I say here. Some of the people you loved most still haven't dealt with your death and choose instead to mar your memory with questionable choices. I kind of wonder if it's because the good example (I'm talking about you) isn't here in the flesh anymore? I realize you were a man and you were human and fallible but you were also a good person with sound morals and grounded ethics. You were one of the most selfless people I've ever known and very, very rarely ever used hurtful words toward anyone but yourself. One of my favorite of your qualities was that you were constantly striving to be a better person even if sometimes that meant that you didn't think you were good enough. But you were, good enough. And in fact you were not only good enough, you were the best and I don't know that I told you that enough. I wouldn't trade a minute of my life with you as my dad.

Still missing you every day,

Cynder