You’d think from the sounds coming out of the second floor of my house that my wife was beating the sh%! out of our 2 yr old son. Screaming, yelling, whining, all at a billion decibels. She is trying to convince him to take a nap! He is tired, exhausted even, but the mere suggestion of a nap has him freaking out as if you were smashing all his toys and not letting him eat.. ever.
What is this logic? I mean I get the feeling of not wanting to miss out on something, like when your friends are having a party but you can’t attend – it sucks. However, we’ve told him that we are taking a nap too and nothing is going on this afternoon, indeed I wish I WAS taking a nap. The logic of feeling tired should be enough on it’s own to dictate the a nap but not with a 2 year old, it’s just a source of anger.
I understand, they are sewing oats, trying to prove that they have control of their own destiny and all the rest. But for god’s sake man, sleep deprivation and hunger strikes are not good ways to prove your point, or maybe they are, it worked for Mohandas Gandhi
The difference is that a two years old’s plight usually includes violence of some kind.
Children’s milestones pass with the swiftness of a massive pile up at the Daytona 500, usually without the smell of fuel and the fire.
With each hurdle comes feelings of pride and sense of accomplishment along with a little sadness, these small humans grow up too fast. Sleeping arrangements definitely fall victim to these emotions: when its time for change, questions arise; The crib is a spot to chill, a place to sleep, a zone of comfort, a cage to keep them confined and a safe haven to keep them out of shitstorms all in one. So when should the small human be given a bed?
Our son has a very basic crib, we opted for this as my mother said when I was a child I had chewed through one of the lead paint covered 1970’s wooden bars on mine. So we figured, even though lead painted childrens furniture is next to impossible to source these days, we’d keep it simple and instead of getting a fancy convertible sleigh crib just do it up with the simplest Ikea one.
This also gives me the opportunity to purchase a race care bed which will be pure joy for me to buy and awesomeness for My son to sleep in. I always wished I had one of these during my childhood, which tells you something about the neglect and impoverished state I was growing up in 🙂
So, back to the question at hand: I may be excited to buy the race car bed and the boy will surely love it, but when is it really time to make the transition? This decision has to be governed by what is best for him, not when I feel the need to purchase the awesome race car bed. So: Should it be decided based on age? When we feel he will sleep through the night without escaping, or wrecking his room, or coming into our room, kicking me out of bed to be with mommy?
I know one thing for sure. We need the race car before he climbs out and over, falls down and busts his face.
There are many ways to score points with the wife; snickering while she struggles to hopelessly reason with your two-year old son is not one of them.
The mind of a two-year old cares not that mommy is exhausted and wants to get the kitchen cleaned up and go to bed, never mind that its past his bedtime and his powers of reasoning have waxed beyond their gruesomely weak normal range. As I watched the scene below unfold I laugh:
Mother is trying to load the dishwasher, baby boy is engrossed with the 2 levels of racks he’s sliding in and out, on wheels nonetheless! Then he spots the cheese grater, being unsure of its purpose, he pulls it out and exclaims “what’s dis?”
Mommy is trying to be nice but is rapidly losing it and grabs it to put it back, I snicker and explain “that’s for cutting cheese to put on pizza” now the boy decides he should crawl under the open door, proclaim he is pooping, then freak out because he doesn’t want the dishwasher door to be closed.
Really all mundane moments in day-to-day life, but I find this power struggle HILARIOUS: so I laugh. Wife is not appreciative to say the least.
So really the advice here would be: don’t laugh, help clean up. I find this impossible and continue to laugh.
There’s a little known game my wife is fond of called “the keeping game”
Basically you grab ahold of someone and hug them tight, when they want to stop hugging… you refuse. There are many incarnations of this game such as sitting on, lying on, and holding on. I myself am not a fan. I love getting and giving hugs, but on my own terms. A too long hug becomes a torture chamber of sweatiness.
This game is the BEST to play with children! They too have the urge to get away, I think it must be an inborn reflexive behaviour similar to fight or flight & moro reflex. The difference is in the size, these lil’ns can’t get away! they have a 90% mass defecit.
Bottom line is; kids love hugs, kisses and tickles and we their parents love to give them these things. So keep on keepin ’em!
Life is fast. Sometimes you gotta stop and take a look around. We all know this, fewer abide by it, many times a day I curse myself for missing a milestone of one of our kids because I was working.
Children are lucky enough to live in a world devoid of responsibility and act appropriately so. My son smashes through his world with reckless and dangerous abandon every moment.
It’s great to watch this fury of spontaneous combustion roaming through the house punishing inanimate objects, not thinking about his purpose. Or so you would think, these small humans actions are far more calculated then we give them credit for.
Case in point: just this evening as my son ran around with hulk gloves on, smashing tables and whatever else he perceived to be in his way, he calculated that I WAS NOT ‘taking time to smell his putrid brand of roses’ I was working on my laptop. So… When I got up to get a beverage he made his move. Smashed my apple and forced me to pay attention to him.
Lucky for me the hulk gloves are very forgiving and no damage was done. Point taken little man; time to play.
An unbelievable mix of human genre, an amazing concert! Everyone from teenage punks to 38 yr old skater types right on through to a gimp of undetermined age, partying symbiotically.
It seemed a fitting venue for the event, undoubtedly 200 years ago when John Graves Simcoe was fighting for sovereignty amidst canon fire it didn’t occur to him that far far in the future people would be celebrating in peace at this loacation. Albeit to a soundtrack of soothing sounds akin to robotic sex noises and future laser tuning technology. Truly music from a galaxy far far away. I may have even heard some canon fire in the symphonics.
Skrillex atop a mackette spaceship hurling music at us is capable of generating euphoric synaptic firings sans drugs and alchohol. Included in the show was a supremely well executed light show including mucho laser beams, projections and the illuminated spaceship.
While in the mosh pit it became clear that I’m too old for this, scanning my pit mates it was painfully clear (literal pain) that I was too old & likely the only participant with 2 babies at home. This realization didn’t make me feel decrepit, it did however give me pause to think about my children & subsequently get the eff out of there. My exit was rapid, narrowly staving off a broken ankle along the way and likely a heart attack. Hands down, this was the BEST time I have had at any live show in eons.
I’m a huge proponent of constant music consumption by all, and especially children, my son has spent his first 2 years listening to all genre’s of music, dubstep, jazz, and Hip Hop are some of his favorites. Of course a Skrillex concert is no place for a 2 yr old but I kinda wish it was. My son LOVES listening to Skrillex, and I see no reason why not to let him rock that shit. It’s got all the qualities babies and adult humans alike look for to sooth our savage inner beasts ; rhythmic, vibratory, and penetrating. If ya don’t like it you’ll disagree but maybe, just maybe you should watch a baby listen and you’ll get an insight about how the deep base and rythmic rollorcoaster that is skrillex music achieves such a profound impact on our emotional state. It’s commonly accepted that music is GOOD for babies development, so why wouldn’t this frenetic, widely scoped soundscape of stimulation not be one of the best? Babies are frenetic in nature, they have no attantion span, no preconception of what is and isn’t good and I have seen with my own eyes, they like Skrillex.
I sit here writing this listening with my 1 mnth old daughter, she was cranky as all hell a few minutes ago, then I put on the track below and BLAMMO, she’s snuggling up in my arms with a smile on her face.
The Leap Frog bubble wash is crazy! It’s a great toy residing on my refrigerator helping us to distract the small monster while stirring up some fry. It sings catchy songs that get stuck in my head, making me swear while in My car wishing it could fly out of Toronto’s traffic jam.
This thing recognizes when there is the ass of a plane and the nose of a boat on it and sings a song about a “boatplane” The machine thinks the boatplane will not go. This is a logical assessment at first glance (or listen) but if you think outside the box for a second you’ll quickly realize it is gravely mistaken. As almost infinite online resources will prove the bush plane can and WILL go, whether airborne or skimming along in the H2O it’s all good!
I must question then the accuracy of the other claims of this wash n go machine.
A train-car.. well our good friend Jeremy Clarkson over at Top Gear managed to prove that wrong by turning the classic Jaguar XJS into a sport train… BOOM
As this fridge toy has brought me mucho help while making dinner, it pains me that I must find fault with it’s logic, but these are faults. Of course, a firetruck-car does not exist. Maybe we should get on that people, c’maaan. Either way, it’s a great helper on the fridge so thanks Leap Frog.
Stardate 2012. The nuclear future is upon me. I just found out my wife is pregnant again and with a daughter this time! This rounds out nicely the wonderful son I have.. and, In my mind anyway grants me nuclear powers!
After some investigation it appears that the term “nuclear family” actually refers to 2 parents and any number of children, not the common conception of mother, father, son & daughter. No matter these semantic definitions; I am taking the view that my family is about to go nuclear.
Often the term ‘nuclear’ conjures up visions of power generation and war, and indeed these are accurate depictions of modern nuclear applications. To me, it means that my family now has amassed the power of an angry electron being split into two. No longer will we have the luxury of employing gangland strategies of dealing with a rampant child: Attacking from all sides with the force of an angry – albiet loving – mob. We will now be forced to split our resources in order to deal with the energy of two rampant particles we have released upon the world.
So as I digress, I prepare to delve into the world of person to person defensive strategy from what has been decidedly a zoned/group effort until now. I welcome this challenge and embrace atomic parenting.
The Leap Frog bubble wash is crazy! It’s a great toy residing on my refrigerator helping us to distract the small monster while stirring up some fry. It sings catchy songs that get stuck in my head, making me swear while in My car wishing it could fly out of Toronto’s traffic jam.
This thing recognizes when there is the ass of a plane and the nose of a boat on it and sings a song about a “boatplane” The machine thinks the boatplane will not go. This is a logical assessment at first glance (or listen) but if you think outside the box for a second you’ll quickly realize it is gravely mistaken. As almost infinite online resources will prove the bush plane can and WILL go, whether airborne or skimming along in the H2O it’s all good!
I must question then the accuracy of the other claims of this wash n go machine.
A train-car.. well our good friend Jeremy Clarkson over at Top Gear managed to prove that wrong by turning the classic Jaguar XJS into a sport train… BOOM
As this fridge toy has brought me mucho help while making dinner, it pains me that I must find fault with it’s logic, but these are faults. Of course, a firetruck-car does not exist. Maybe we should get on that people, c’maaan. Either way, it’s a great helper on the fridge so thanks Leap Frog.
Running with wreckless abandon, unabashed glee and endless bounds of energy.
We lay on the bed observing the naked kid swirling around our bedroom, my wife and I smiling and laughing at the fact that this small human feels no need to be clothed and in fact prefers to be naked whenever possible. What if the rest of us were like that I wonder.
Then, suddenly; He stops running, stands there looking bemused and staring at me. I pry myself up from my comfy recline and approach him asking “what’s up buddy?” – And then, Blammo, I see it, LOGS ON THE FLOOR!
He has shit approximately 3 logs on the floor, it’s like a poo poo train. Luckily the wooden floors are resiliant to this type of treatment (more on that later) I continue my discovery to find that he is soaked in urine and has indeed stepped in one of the logs. D Luke looks at me with expressions of confusion & concern. I laugh and make sure to tell the boy “I’m not laughin at you, but it’s funny what you did”
This is an amazing moment in the learning curve that is the constant plight of a 1 yr old. He has just received another lesson in cause and effect, if you crap on the floor, pee all over, then step in one of the logs, your foot feels squishy and funny & your legs are wet.
So it’s tag team cleanup for me and mommy, to the tub! get the mop! I mop the floor incessantly giggling. Ahhh, my life has sure changed, just a few years ago I remember a similar scene, although the players were drunken idiotic adults, and my wife did not find it funny.
