Tag: Amy

tidbit 3: Jen and Emily

In the last few months, Jen and Emily have entered our lives. They are Amy’s imaginary friends and they come with an entourage. They have three dogs, and there is also a daddy, a baby and a brother. I’m not clear on the relationship between them all nor their ages, but I was told at one point that Jen was 14.

This group arrived on the scene very suddenly. I can’t remember exactly when or how they came up, but one day we’d never heard of them and the next day she was talking about them constantly. It’s petered out a bit, but yesterday I was asked to walk the three dogs, and tonight before dinner she told the dogs to lie down and stay before she came to the table, so they are definitely still on her mind.

My favourite moment with Jen and Emily was a couple of weeks ago when Amy and I were on our way to the local school to play at the playground. Amy was on her bike, and I happened to be watching her when the school came in sight. Her face lit up (so much so that I thought Greg had surprised us and met us there), and she said, with genuine joy, “Jen and Emily are here!”. It was pretty darn sweet.

There are times when Amy will get a sad face and when I ask her what’s wrong, she’ll tell me that Jen and Emily aren’t with her. I find it interesting the way a child’s mind works, that they would choose to have their imaginary friends not around, even if it makes them sad.

I don’t remember having an imaginary friend as a child, but I’m sure enjoying experiencing it now.

Oh, and the three dogs names? Diesel and Diesel, and the third one doesn’t have a name.

tidbit 1: Amy’s reaction to kindergarten

Elliot started kindergarten last week, and because we are such *awesome* parents, we have been asking him questions about his day, listening carefully to his answers, and just generally showing interest, without trying to make a huge deal out of it. And again because we are such *awesome* parents, we’ve been asking Amy questions about daycare and what’s going on with her, so she doesn’t feel left out. But I realized yesterday that even if Greg and I had slipped up and put too much focus on Elliot, Amy would have rectified the situation. Because right in the middle of talking to Elliot about something kindergarten-related (after giving her plenty of attention), she piped up with how her baby started kindergarten yesterday and she proceeded to describe how his day was. Since then, it’s come up a couple more times, and so I’m learning quite a bit about baby’s first few days in school.

I don’t think anyone’s going to leave this girl in the dust, and it’s one of the many things I love about her.

the extinction of a word

I don’t know what Elliot’s first word was. People have asked me, and I was paying attention at the time (he is my firstborn, after all) but I don’t think he actually had one. There were several words that came out all at once. “Car” (big surprise), “ball”, “moo”, to name a few.

Amy’s first word, without a doubt, was “Aiya”, her version of Elliot. It came well before any others. We’ve heard it sung sweetly, we’ve heard it screamed, we’ve heard her say it countless times. And then about a month ago, out of the blue, she called her brother Elliot. And yesterday I realized I haven’t heard her say Aiya in at least a week. She doesn’t say Elliot the same way we do, it’s more like Elleeyut, but it’s definitely close. It’s still sweet to hear, but I will miss Aiya. A lot.

she’s gonna be a bag lady

One of Amy’s favourite things to do is find random small things and put those random small things into bigger things. Magnetic letters into plastic juice containers; blocks into bags, random baby bits into her stroller…there’s no end to entertainment for her here. So as I was doing a thorough cleaning of her room earlier in the week, I wasn’t surprised to find that everything I picked up that could hold something did, in fact, hold something. She had cars in a metal tea tin. Hair elastics inside a teeny tiny baggy inside one of her purses, along with other hair elastics loose in the same purse. Barrettes inside a metal band-aid tin. Blocks inside another purse. Fisher Price Little People inside an empty kleenex box. It was like Christmas. I never knew what I’d find when I opened something.

Then she’ll take all the “carrier” items (purses, canvas bags, tins, etc.) and she’ll put them in her shopping cart till it’s overflowing, with stuff hanging over the edges, and she’ll walk around the house, carting it around with her. She just needs a big plastic bag of tin cans for recycling and she’ll be set.

three years young

This morning when I walked into Amy’s room, I wished my half-asleep baby girl a happy birthday. Her eyes brightened, she looked around her crib a bit, and then asked softly “where’s my birthday?” I’m not sure exactly what she was asking and I didn’t ask her to clarify. It seemed like such an innocent, child-like question and I wanted to savour the moment.

We had a great day, but after spending Elliot’s birthday at home (it was a weekend), and spending Amy’s birthday mostly at work, I think next year I’ll try to take the day off. The time I spent with her today seemed too short, especially because a good portion of it was spent making dinner and icing her cake.

The day started with her sitting in her birthday chair opening her presents from Gran, Greg and I. She thoroughly enjoyed the opening process, and happily got Elliot to help her when needed. I made some cupcakes last night for her to take to daycare, and they had a small celebration for her there. Her request for dinner was macaroni. I upped the classiness of that request a bit and served tortellini. Gran, Auntie Jan, Uncle Graeme and her cousin Hugh all joined us for dinner, and they are staying to spend the day with us tomorrow.

The cake was a butterfly cake, which I’ll post a picture of soon. We have had a few chocolate cakes recently so I switched to a white cake this time. It was, I have to say, outstanding. Although the birthday girl let her father eat hers, so she wasn’t a fan. The boys both had two pieces…in fact everyone else had at least two helpings, so I don’t think I’m the only one who thought it was good.

Amy opened a couple more presents from her Aunt and then played with the “guys”, as she calls her brother and cousin. They put together her new lego house for her and she destroyed it. Par for the course.

The night ended with a bit of screaming, but I was able to get her to bed on a calmer note after a couple of books. I think she was pretty pooped. Tomorrow will be another big day spent with my sister and her family, and I think she’ll enjoy that as well.

Happy birthday, Amy-girl. I love you!

you have to see the humour in it

Today wasn’t the easiest day to spend with Amy. We did lots of fun things, but there was lots of screaming (from me as well as her), hitting and pushing. I had to laugh when I came across this post about Elliot, written when he was just a couple of months younger than Amy is now. Here’s an excerpt:

Throw sand at his mother? Check.

Throw sand at his father? Check.

Throw sand at his sister? Check.

Hit his mother? Check.

Hit his father? Check.

Kick his sister? Check.

Throw toys at his door? Check.

Throw his shoes? Check, check.

Along the same vein, here’s a synopsis of today:

Scream at her mother? Check.

Scream at her father? Check.

Hit her brother? Check.

Hit her mother? Check, check, check.

Hit her father? Check.

Push her brother into a metal railing? Check.

Scream before nap time? Check.

Scream before bed time? Check.

Thankfully she’s now asleep. Before she went to bed I suggested to her that tomorrow I could yell at her less, and she could hit me less. She agreed.

sleep deprivation

I wasn’t going to blog about this because I thought I’d come to terms with it, but after the last week, something HAS to be done.

Amy hasn’t been sleeping well for the past few months. First the problem was just that she’d get up really early and want to be up for the day (like 4:30, 5:00). We wouldn’t go in and get her until 6:00, but there would usually be multiple trips into her room to tell her it wasn’t time to wake up, or else we’d be yelling from our room the same thing. Occasionally we ignored her but she’d end up screaming and we were worried that Elliot would wake up. Having one child up early is bad enough. Having two, one of whom is VERY grumpy in the morning, would be hell.

It got better for a while, and she started sleeping past 6:00, occasionally even to 7:00, and the problem morphed into her waking up in the middle of the night asking us to put her bopp (her blanket) back on, and asking for her music on. This was actually better for me because it was usually just once in the middle of the night, and I’d quickly get up and put her bopp on her. We also started playing her music all night. Things were very manageable for a while, and we even had some nights where she didn’t call us at all, and she’d sleep past 6:30. On those mornings, we were quick to praise her for “sleeping in”, and for putting bopp on by herself during the night. She was happy to hear the praise.

I did question whether we should try to wean her off waking us up in the middle of the night, but I thought that she probably needed the comfort, and seeing as I was still getting quite a good sleep (usually), I left it as is.

Until the last week. She has been getting up at least twice a night, and last night I lost count. And last night was by far the most frustrating night for me. It’s a bit of a blur, but it went something like this:

At 2:00 she woke up asking that bopp be put back on, then just as I was finally falling back asleep at 2:30, she yelled out that she needed to pee. (It’s rare that that’s the reason she gets up, so I don’t think that’s the issue.) Then two hours later she’s up again, asking for bopp to be put back on. I did, and then 15 minutes later she’s telling me she can’t find the “hole” (the specific corner of bopp that she likes to fondle). I drew the line on that one, and we had a yelling match, the three of us (Greg, myself and Amy) until she gave up. Then she was up at 5:00 cheerfully asking if it was time to get up. NO. It’s not.

Greg and I cannot go on like this. However, the only thing I can think of doing (apart from one of us sleeping downstairs every second night, which is not desirable) is to talk to her about it, tell her we’re not coming in until a certain time, and then stick to our guns. This will mean a lot of screaming. I have a suspicion that this will eventually work, but I’m not sure I can stick to my guns. I’m not sure it’s the “right” thing to do. We’re basically letting her cry it out, something I never did when my kids were babies. But she’s almost three!

It has occurred to me that we could try getting rid of her nap, but she does miss it some days, and it doesn’t seem to affect her sleep patterns. And she doesn’t seem to have trouble falling asleep (apart from the usual stalling tactics), it’s more that she can’t stay asleep. Maybe it’s all related. But even if it was the nap, she’ll still nap at daycare, so we’re back at square one.

Another thought I had was around getting her out of the crib. She’s mentioned to me a few times that “when she’s older, she’ll have a bed”. We haven’t even considered it because with all the drama that’s going on now, I think it would be pure hell if she wasn’t confined. However, I was wondering if we could use that as a carrot for her. If she can get through the night without calling us for a week, then she can move into a bed. Or maybe 10 weeks. 🙂 But then what happens if she starts doing it again? Do we throw her back in the crib?

I’m open to suggestions.

it’s no wonder i want to nap

I just put Amy to bed for her nap. We were outside playing for over an hour, and when we came in Greg had the heat on in the house and it was very warm and cozy. Amy put her cozy fleece pajamas on, the ones with feet, and we sat down to read books. She cuddled with me and her bopp while I read to her. I put her in her crib and sang a song, and then started her CD. I sat in her rocking chair, rocking myself, as we listened to the CD for a bit. Before I left her room, I stood by her crib, rubbed her head for a bit and tucked her tightly under her two fleece blankets. When I left she was curled up on her side, thumb in mouth, all tucked in.

Now I’m off to tuck myself in.

take a deep breath

I seem to be having a lot of parenting moments lately where after the fact I realize I could have handled the situation more…shall we say maturely. I don’t know if the kids are actually acting any differently or if I just have less patience. I haven’t been sleeping well due to Amy’s frequent wake-ups, so it very well could be the latter.

Hindsight is always 20/20, but these are very small incidents where right after I react (and the child in question reacts to my reaction) I realize I haven’t handled things well. Tonight there were two good examples. The first was when Amy hit me (she’s a bit of a hitter) while I was putting her pajamas on. Now I’m not saying hitting is okay, but there was a reason she hit me. I had irrationally got mad at her for taking her pj’s off while she was on the toilet. She almost always does this when she’s having a poop and I don’t think I’ve ever got mad at her. But tonight my patience was down and as soon as she did it, I got mad. And she knew I was mad. I whipped her off the toilet and shoved her in her pajamas. And she hit me. My reaction? I pretty much pushed her out of the bathroom, pajamas half on, and told her to go to her room. Okay. So first off, how about chill on the whole taking the pj’s off issue, since it’s never been an issue before. Second, how about recognize there was a reason she was frustrated and mad, acknowledge her feelings, and tell her it’s not okay to hit. And then continue to put her pj’s back on and get on with bedtime.

The second incident was with Elliot. He was brushing his teeth and I asked him to let me finish, which we do every night. He started goofing around and running away from me. Again, patience wearing thin, I reacted by taking away the cars he was playing with. This may sound minor, but taking away his cars is a HUGE deal to him. And I know this. Not a good consequence for merely goofing around. He got angry and threw his toothbrush at me. Then he started screaming. I started putting more cars away, and he screamed louder. Great. I felt like screaming too. And right away I knew I could have easily avoided the escalation if I had just ignored his goofing around.

Like I said, this seems to be happening a lot. Tomorrow I’m off and have the kids with me, and I’m feeling under the weather. I’m hoping that by writing this I have made myself more aware of what’s going on, and I can remember to just take a moment before reacting…and then hopefully react a bit more constructively. It’s not that these things shouldn’t be addressed, it’s just that I’d like to be able to feel good about how I’ve handled it, not feel like I’m the same age as my children.