Random wintery, pre-Christmas thoughts

Random thoughts:


When did Clair learn to say "sure?" -- You ask her to do something, she says, "Sure!" It is too funny. She also likes to tell "stories" using mostly nouns, but some verbs, like "crying" or "sleeping" or "falled." I love having conversations with her -- can't wait to hang out with my chatty girl when she's older. P.S. Can't believe she will be 2 in February. Good grief.
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Still no tree in the Davis house. In fact, there are pumpkins sitting on my front porch (covered in snow) and scarecrows on my dining room window sills. I don't know when (or if) we're going to take Christmas card photos -- and then address and send the cards to friends and family. And I haven't pulled out the Christmas music yet. I am really behind this year. Like, woefully. (P.S. How do pumpkins last so long?)
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I really enjoyed this newspaper article about what toys inspired girls who eventually became engineers/scientists:

I especially loved the connection between Legos and code-writing (something which I totally wish I understood anything about. Even just a little html would be nice to know.)

Note to Santa: Add more Legos to the Christmas bounty!
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It has really gotten cold here - today won't even make it past 30-degrees. One super-annoying thing about winter weather: fastening two big boys into their safety seats with their tremendous, puffy coats on. Seriously, I break out into a sweat trying to get them buckled in and always have to stop myself from saying words no 3-year-old should hear. Today, after my frustrating struggles to get them clicked in, the boys spilled the beans that when Daddy takes them to school, sometimes he doesn't buckle them in. "He says, 'It's OK. We're just going around the corner!'" they told me.
Tsk, tsk, Daddy! Someone's getting a lump of coal in their stocking this year.
(I also had to laugh that they totally told on him! Hahaha! You can't do anything around kids this age. They will let the cat out of the bag. Trust.)
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I am almost finished with Book 2 of Game of Thrones. Reading these books is definitely an investment, but really worth it. Even if you're not a fan of fantasy, if you like well-written, character-driven stories, with intricate, fast-moving plots and great dialogue (especially from Tyrion, the Imp) you would like these books. Take it from me. And actually, the "fantasy" part is somewhat incidental, I think. But you guys need to read 'em to see for yourself.

Speaking of GoT, I called my Dad this morning on my way to work and we had a little mini bookclub, talking about where I am in the books and Dad's thoughts on it, etc. It was really nice. I absolutely love being able to talk about books (or anything) with my Dad. One of the best parts of my life.
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My friend Olivia wrote a Christmas letter that was so funny, I am determined to write one for this blog. It won't be as good as hers, but I am pledging right now that I am going to get down the highlights of 2013 in one place. Just as soon as I finish this MONSTER report at work, toss the pumpkins, get a Christmas tree, decorate the house, come up with something to put on the front of a Christmas card, and drive the family insane with repeated playings of Donny Hathaway's "This Christmas."

After all that, if my end-of-the-year letter comes next year, I'm sure you'll understand.

Building blocks of contentment

Yesterday, while I was cleaning up the kitchen after dinner, Lester and Cary were reading on the couch in the living room, and Clair was screaming to be picked up.

When the screaming got to be just too much, I decided to put off the kitchen-cleaning and just sit with Clair in the living room until bath time. We were only about 20 minutes away from bath time, and if it made her happy, then the dishes could wait.

So I sat in a chair and snuggled and kissed and played with her, while Cary was happy as can be listening to Lester read "Click Clack Moo."

At some point it dawned on me that Dean was incessantly doing things he shouldn't: throwing toys across the room, disappearing into the kitchen quietly only for me to yell at him to come back in the living room where I could see him, taking things out of my purse -- just generally being mischievous. My patience with him was growing thin, and with every stern word from me, his mood got more and more sour and testy. I was this close from sending him to time-out, when I realized: He wasn't the problem.

So I said, "Hey Dean, why don't you and I do something together?"

The change in his mood was immediate, folks. I mean lightning quick. "OK!" he fairly shouted, as he scanned the room with happy eyes. "How 'bout we ummm....how 'bout we play Legos?!"

Thankfully, Clair was compliant when I put her down on the floor. She happily went over to Lester and Cary, saying "Kik kak MOOOO!"

And I sat on the floor and built castles and houses and tall towers with my boy. 

Dean's love language is Legos.

I showed him how, if you run out of rectangular pieces, you can use two squares to make a rectangle. He showed me how to make a tractor trailer, using a Lego piece that has wheels as the base. When my tall tower was two blocks shorter than his, Dean very sweetly handed me two of his blocks. He was happy as a clam.

Eventually Cary joined us, and Lester went upstairs to run the bathwater. Clair came and sat on my lap, so I had to build my towers around her. But it was fine. Even if only for 15 minutes or so, we had managed to meet everyone's needs -- and the rest of the night was a breeze, without meltdowns or defiance or excessive insanity. (For once!)

God, help me to remember that sometimes  -- not always, but many times -- the best way to correct a child who is heading down the fast lane to Nuisanceville isn't to correct him at all. Instead, the answer might be to correct myself.

How Legos Saved My Life

Before our boys were even born, we dreaded the “Terrible Twos.”

How could we not? It seems that’s all we ever heard about, once people found out we were having twins. “Oh, you’re going to have two of ‘em going through the terrible twos!” “Look out! Two times the terrible twos!!” And so on and so on.

So we were more-than-prepared, so we thought, for tantrums, defiance and boundary-pushing. We were prepared for crying and screaming and meltdowns galore.

But we were not prepared for Dean.

Don't let the cute face fool ya: This handsomest child ever gives us a run for our money.

 Dean’s tantrums were epic, long and drawn out, high-pitched and woeful. His screams were ear-piercing; his tears were real. He was never violent or scary. It was just you could tell that once he got going, he had a really, really hard time soothing himself. The meltdown was cannibalistic: The more he cried, the more he felt like crying, and so the more he cried. Does that make sense?

We tried everything recommended: Ignoring it. Talking him through it. Distracting him. Giving him extra love and hugs. Getting down on his level and acknowledging his feelings. Time-outs for over-the-top screaming. More love, more hugs, more ignoring. Sometimes, I’ll admit, we were at our wits’ end, and we yelled. Sometimes I’d put him in his crib until he could calm down. And then I’d fume, or cry, thinking about him all alone in his room unable to sort through whatever it was he was feeling.

I was losing sleep at night about this, wanting so much to meet his needs, and second-guessing everything I did or didn’t do throughout the day. And it was also, quite frankly, making things tough around the house. The screaming and crying would start from the time we got home and go on sometimes until after bedtime. He’d freak out about everything: He wanted something he couldn’t have. He wanted to walk and not be carried. He wanted to be carried and not made to walk. We didn’t get his spoon fast enough. Cary had his toy. Clair was in my lap. It got to be we hardly knew what was going to set him off. And so the days were nerve-wracking and unpleasant for everyone. Even Cary and Clair seemed to be bothered by all the melodrama.

I talked to my doctor about it, who, after asking a zillion questions about intensity, frequency and duration, declared Dean well within the realm of normal. In fact he said Cary was the one who was more abnormal, if you will, for sorta be-bopping through the day, and quickly rebounding from meltdowns with the simple promise of being rewarded by reading. (Not that Cary doesn’t melt down. He does. Believe me. It's just whinier and poutier, not as furious and deep-seeded.)

I also talked to a psychiatrist friend who works with children. Not because I thought Dean was that far-gone. I certainly did not. But for strategies, mostly, and to assure myself that the things we were doing – though not seemingly very helpful – were not at all harmful to my baby boy, who so obviously needed something that we weren’t giving.

(She too assured me, after asking a zillion questions, that he was well within the range of normal.)

Long story short, Dean is doing SO much better these days. Much fewer tantrums, and much shorter times between freaking out and getting over it.

So what did it?

Legos.

Yes, Legos.

I took all the things the pediatrician and my friend said and considered them all. And some of their advice was quite helpful. But I could not shake the feeling that Dean was acting out because of something I was or wasn’t doing. This was more than mere Mommy-guilt. I just knew it.

So I started to think about how our days were spent being dominated by Cary and his desire to “READ!!” All day long. Dean enjoys reading too, but after awhile, I’d notice that he had wandered off somewhere and was, generally, doing something he shouldn’t do. Pulling outlet covers out, or tearing a book, throwing small toys, or pushing Clair’s swing really hard. I’d scold him or put him in time-out, and this would go on several times a day. By the end of the day, I think Dean was tired of being scolded, chastised and sent to time-out. By the end of the day, we’d get the full force of his unhappiness.

So I thought, “We need to find things that Dean likes to do, and do those more often throughout the day.” Immediately, I thought of trying Legos. And I found Starbuilders at a client’s office and thought he’d like those too.  One recent weekend, I went out and bought them both, big tubs of them, and I cleared out the toy box in our living room of miscellaneous junk and baby toys, and left only books, dolls, cars/vehicles, puppets, puzzles, balls and the Legos and Starbuilders. (Their kitchen, instruments, easel and other big toys are in the playroom in the basement.)

The Legos, as I’ve mentioned, were a big hit right away. He loved them. And I swear, now that he has something that he enjoys doing for a big chunk of the day, he gets into far less trouble. He sits and builds long strands of Legos and then takes them apart and does it again. He is so occupied by this activity, he isn’t looking around for naughty things to do. The end result is less scolding, and fewer time-outs. So that when he does have to be disciplined for something, he takes it so much better! Oh, he’ll still scream and cry, but for two minutes not 20.

And I’ve finally found something I can distract him with (besides snacks). Before Legos, I had nothing that he really wanted to do to bribe him with (besides snacks). Now the same way I can say to a melting down Cary, “Hey, can you find Mommy a book to read?!” and he calms down to go get a book, I can say to a melting down Dean, “Can you go get me the box of Legos? I’m going to make a TALL building!” And he bites!

It is awesome!

The net result of the fewer timeouts and diminished discipline is a happier, calmer Dean. And a happier, calmer house.

And that is why I say that Legos saved my life! :-) 

Working, scooting, sleeping, building, playing, raspberry-ing

Sooo, remember how I said that I thought I'd have more time to blog once I was back at work?
Yeah, not so much.

The work hasn't been crazy, so much as just steadily busy, and I've had a lot of out-of-the-office meetings, so I have not had the time I thought I would.

I have a post in my head about our very real challenges with Dean and his temper tantrums, but I don't really have the time to do it justice. So instead, I will tell you that my daughter has learned to blow raspberries and finds doing it repeatedly to be the most fun thing ever. Joy! (Where do kids learn to do this?)

In addition, she is so energetic, that she scoots in her sleep -- in HER SLEEP -- to the end of the crib and bangs her head on the bars, and wakes up and cries for me to move her to a softer space. Every night she does this. At 2 or 2:30 a.m. Every night.

It sounds maddening, but it is really quite cute. She always murmurs and coos a little bit after I've moved her, in her infant way of saying, "Thanks, Mom!" and she always falls right back to sleep. Sadly, I can never fall right back to sleep, but I don't blame her for that. My insomniac ways severely pre-date Clair's arrival.

Also, I might be the last parent on Earth to buy Legos for her kids, and boy am I sorry it took me so long! I bought them for Dean, specifically, because I was looking for something that would speak to his particular way of playing, learning, etc. -- as opposed to being dominated all day long by Cary and what he likes to do (which is reading, incessantly). Turns out the Legos, and these toys called Starbuilders that I also bought, are a big hit with both boys! Dean goes straight to the Legos when he gets up in the morning and all he wants to do is "build something" the majority of the day. He sits on his knees in the living room and just stacks and unstacks those blocks with such determination, and then sometimes he pretends they're weedwhackers or flutes or ice cream cones or canes to walk with.  It's really cute!

Starbuilders are a big hit in my house.

Cary enjoys them, too. But, being Cary, he gets bored easily, and skips around to other things more often, leaving Dean to himself, which is just fine with Dean.

I'm so, so happy I got these for my Deanie, and when I finally get around to blogging about the tantrum thing, I'll explain more why. But in the meantime, just know that sometimes spending the money on toys (even if you have a house FULL of toys) is about more than just playing.