The Stray Dog Philosophy

Years ago, when I was living with my grandmother, a big old dog showed up in our side yard.  It was October and the weatherman had forecast a hard frost for that evening.  Being the crackerjack gardener I am (kidding), I was putting plastic bags over the plants I had outside that I had not yet transplanted into pots to move indoors for the winter.  Feeling like I was being watched, I turned and was literally nose to nose with a dog that was quite obviously part German shepherd.  Now I love dogs, all animals for that matter.  But this dog was a stranger to me.  Even though I was startled by presence, I remained calm and offered my hand to see what he would do.  Fortunately, he was a friendly dog.  Very friendly.  And I was smitten.  There was however one small problem in the form of a spunky old lady who wasn't exactly a dog fan. They were okay of they lived with someone else.  And she had already given in to having two indoor/outdoor cats.

I went to work the next day looking for a home for this wonderful dog.  There were no immediate takers.  My mother's friend brought by a huge bag of dog food for him that morning after I called her for help finding him a home.  I went about my daily life as if I had a dog.  I fed him each morning.  He had a comfortable bed in the barn.  When I would feed the horses, he would stand outside each stall and wait for me.  We played together and we cuddled each night on a pile of hay before I retired for the evening myself.  Each morning, he was waiting for me on the front porch.  But I never gave him a name.  Nothing I could think of seemed to fit him.  Almost two weeks passed and I returned home from work to find my new friend had moved on.  It was as if he had needed a place to rest for a little while before continuing on his way-wherever that was.

I think M may be employing the "no name no stay" philosophy to C.  He plays with C.   Laughs at him. Interacts with him which is wonderful to see.  He excitedly runs to his room when C wakes up and exclaims, "Baby wake up!!"  When we are trying to get C to sleep, he whispers not so quietly, "Baby seeping".  He peeks through the slats in the crib to play peek-a-boo with him.  He points out when he makes "wotta noise".  He stands at the side of the tub when C gets a bath and giggles uncontrollably at C's attempts to sit up by himself.  He will even share the occasional toy with him.  He cries when C can't be consoled.  He performs to make C laugh.  He watches Elmo with him.  He reluctantly let's C sit in the Bumbo chair even though it belongs to the baby.  He will lay down next to him on our bed or on a blanket on the floor.  He has tried to feed him Cheerios.  He has even apologized to him after a well deserved time out received form head-butting his baby brother.

He has done all of these things.  But he refuses to call him by name.  M is good with names.  He knows Mommy, Daddy, Nanny and Pop-pop (and that they go together), AJ, Aunt Mindy, Uncle Pat, Heidi, the name of my former boss, Logan, Aunt Robin, Lisa, Joy, Emily and Baby Ellie (pronounced Elwee).  But he will not call C anything but Baby.  When I correct him and tell him the baby's name, he laughs at me.  When I ask him "who is the baby?", he points to him and says "Baby!"I am trying hard to use C's name more throughout the day hoping it will catch on but I have to wonder if this refusal to put a name to the baby isn't a subconscious way of keeping detached?  Maybe if he doesn't use C's name, he will go away?  As with stray animals, if you feed them and name them, they are yours forever.  Since M has no control over us feeding C, maybe he is keeping from getting attached by not using his name.  Or, maybe he just hasn't made the connection enough because Mommy is not using C's name enough day in and day out, instead calling him "the baby".  It is, after all, only a theory.

Word of the Day

Some people enjoy word of the day toilet paper, I have toddler word of the day.  And I love it.  Its so entertaining hearing him latch onto a word and practice it all day long.  His words of the day have also forever changed the names of common everyday items.  For example, my hair dryer will forever be known as "wotta noise" and my flip flops will be affectionately known as "be-bops" for the rest of my life.  And that's OK because be-bops are a lot more fun to wear!  "I'm wearing my cute new be-bops when I get my pedicure today."

Word of the day really started several weeks ago when C was very young and M realized he could say "yellow", his favorite color.  That day, everything was yellow.  A couple of weeks ago, the word of the day was "running", to be said as loud as possible as one is racing at break neck speed up and down the hallway.

Word of the day has made me clean up my language.  One morning I went in search of M to find him sitting on his toy train saying "dammit".  There's only one place that came from.  Stifling a laugh, I explained how that isn't a nice word and that even Mommy shouldn't say it and we should change it to driving instead.  Fortunately, that word has gone from his rather extensive toddler vocabulary.

Today, the word of the day was "sorry", pronounced "thorry".  This happened after a particularly well deserved time out for head butting his four month old brother.  Knowing I was angrier than the one minute time out the Supernanny method allows for (and despite being so angry, I stuck to Supernanny's method because I am in awe of what this woman has done with far worse children than mine), M apologized over and over to me the rest of the day, even long after I was over it.  Of course he never did apologize to C.  He laughed at me when I suggested that.

I look forward each day with anticipation to the word of the day.

Having Kids in the 1970's?

I grew up in the 1970's and 80's in an 100 year old farmhouse with well water and no air conditioning.

When we decided to make the leap to have children, we failed to look at the basic conveniences that were lacking in our day to day lives.  Conveniences that are nearly essential when you have kids.  I rented a beautiful apartment in a private home for several years before meeting and marrying my husband.  The apartment is located in the attic of a mansion, 5 flights up, 5 flights down.  We made the decision that the hubs should move in with me since my space was much larger than his efficiency rental.  Comparatively, my apartment had 2 bedrooms, a den, a HUGE bathroom and an eat in kitchen.  Two weeks before the wedding, the hubs moved in with me.  My big apartment was now a little smaller, but still comfortable and charming.

Then M was due in 2 weeks.  As I stood at the kitchen sink washing baby bottles, I was struck by what a daunting task we had just begun.  Bottles as you know are multi-pieced equipment.  The ones we have chosen to use have 7 parts.  7 parts to be washed and sterilized between each use.  Big deal right?  Let's now talk hand wash.  You see in our charming third floor walk up (5 flights up=43 steps), there is no dishwasher.  And no room for one.  And if there was one, who the heck is going to get it up those stairs?  Thus begins an endless stream of dirty bottles, dishes and flatware.  Gone were the days of not washing dishes all week and still not filling the sink.  Now dishes had become a daily chore.

The next luxury most people take for granted that we have come to appreciate and talk about frequently is central air conditioning.  We do not have it.  Three window units act as our window treatments to effectively cool our space.  Big deal right?  Normally it wouldn't be except we now live with a very active, very nosy, very helpful 18 month old.  So the ac units have to be removed from the crawl space after he has gone to bed.  The crawl space door has been screwed shut to keep Mr. Nosy from wandering into spaces he shouldn't go.  So, after working all day and getting M fed, bathed and to bed, the hubs is now having to drag the ac out of the crawl space (so named for a reason) quietly (good luck there) while he is exhausted, only to discover we do not have all we need to install them correctly which then results in a 9:30 pm run to Home Depot.  Air conditioning was finally installed and running around 10:30.  Our apartment is now comfortable but wouldn't it have been so much easier to flip a switch?  And once it cools down in the fall, out comes the ac, back into the crawl space until yet another cooling system.

The 3rd modern convenience I will no longer take for granted is water.  We do not pay for water.  We have well water.  I kind of like the taste of it.  But, with infants, we have to filter the water.  And we had to sterilize bottles for an additional month.  We also have to add fluoride to their daily routine.  Filtering the water is no biggie.  Even sterilizing the bottles for 4 months vs 3 is not that terrible.  What is however is wind, storms, accidents, anything that might possibly disrupt our electricity.  No electricity, no well pump.  No well pump, no water.  We keep bottled on reserve for drinking and tooth brushing, but at each thunderstorm warning, high wind alert, even winter storms, we are filling the bathtub so we can flush.  Hurricane Isabel taught me a VERY valuable lesson about electricity.  I couldn't imagine WHY I would need to fill the tub.  Seriously.  I'm certainly not going to bathe in cold, dirty water so what good is it going to do me?  The the lights went out.  Two hours later, there's still no power.  I visit the little girl's room.  I flush.  Oh.  THAT's why you fill the tub with water.  Duh.  Even worse than the threat of losing water for an act of God, though is the random loss of water whenever someone else is doing laundry or running a dishwasher.  Way to rub it in!  Filing the tub to bathe M and we run out of water.  Grabbing a quick shower at 10:30 after both boys finally nap at the same time and midway through a rushed shower there's not even a drop to rinse with.  On more than one occasion, soapy,  I have stomped down from the attic to the basement to turn the washing machine off.  Stomping on hardwood stairs with soapy feet is no easy feat and even a little dangerous.  At the third landing, I can hear the urgent cries of C.  So much for that.

And finally the bane of my existence: laundry.  Oh do I hate the laundry situation here.  We have access to laundry.  And its free.  But its a hassle.  Laundry is never done.  Ever.  As you are finishing the last load, you realize the clothes on your back are creating more work.  The hubs's aunt told me once about having to change her kids' clothes 3 times a day because of the food they would get on them.  I thought, but kept it to myself, what on earth is she doing that she needs to change them so frequently?  After all, I'm super mom and I have the perfect children.  Ha!  All that has changed.  There are at least 3 costume changes each day, multiplying the laundry workload.  That's to be expected.  So, let's decide to do laundry.  The first trip down to the basement (add a flight-6 flights down, 6 flights back up) has a toddler perched on the left hip and a laundry basket perched on the right.  The first trip down is really to do no more than get our place in line for the washing machine.  If both washer and dryer are empty, it's like a holiday.  If both are in use, just leave your basket.  Maybe you can do some wash this evening.  Late this evening.  Being the furthest from the laundry rooms has distinct disadvantages.  There are also some advantages if you can see through the crap to the silver lining.  Its a great workout-climbing a ridiculous number of stairs is a cardio workout and carrying the toddler along makes it weight bearing exercise.  Ah, but here's the rub...the happiness of finally getting to wash clothes is dampened by the sudden loss of water while doing dishes because I running the washer.  I do believe this is what they call irony.