What Can I Do To Help?

This is the 21st century, and some of us have taken a back seat to technology and communication. Others (especially the gender of dim and dumb) have never been great communicators. So, is this outlet just another cop-out or a chance for men to at least try something new, something that might work? Maybe it's the Bridge on the River Kwai effect: great piece of engineering while it stands, but set a few charges across the length of it (baby troubles/tantrums, difficult days at the office, lack of sleep), and it all comes crashing.

There was something recently read about women speaking twice as many words as men on a daily basis. That could be said of most of us; in fact, many of us could go for hours without a single word. Alex is only two and a half, and we seem to be able to communicate with one another with simple looks: glares, smirks, almost-smirks-and-trying-not-to-smile, eyebrow-lift and eye-roll-of-annoyance, etcetera.

Why the disparity? If men speak they have to think. Thinking isn't always the strong suit. If talking without thought is another option, watch out, duck and cover, or roll over and play dead. If you've ever seen a opossum curl up and play dead, it's pretty convincing stuff, ugly as they are.

Do we men pass on these tried-and-true tactics to our sons? Maybe it's a genetic wiring problem with the Y chromosome. Is there a non-surgical way to break the chain of grunts, making faces, and clear exasperation? Were the Amazons the first women to want the freedom and equality of men, or did they merely want to get as far from us as they could?

Digression gets us nowhere, so back to it. What can be done? Does a husband ask how he can help, make suggestions, or sit there looking slack-jawed? If you answered b or c, you're a typical man; congratulations on passing the buck and blaming genetic failings. Answer A, stupid! It's what they keep telling us; isn't it? But that doesn't make sense. Just listen to suggestions or ask how we can help?... Who wants to listen to suggestions when we have at least two or three to offer off the top of our heads - without thinking.

There's a good point. The difference between thinking and thinking things through. Basic male thought is a simple equation: experience = thought/memory = obvious solution. It worked before, so why wouldn't it work now. The frat house, the barracks, the baseball field, the poker table - Those environments are what have prepared us for battle and lack of empathy.

That's the catch. They have a different brand of empathy. Women want to put their thoughts into action. Understandable, but even worse (and nearly impossible to understand), more often than not they don't want your suggestions or solutions, they just want to be heard. No actions, no solutions. Crazy, right?

Things I have done since Sunday to avoid googling “gypsies, purchase of young children”:

-Used a Grover puppet and full-Grover voice to get Alex to cooperate with getting dressed in the morning.
-Have priced-out online the cost of full catcher’s mask/vest to protect from violent kicking during dressing/undressing.
-Told Alex that his old baby tub was a boat and that he could pee over the side of the boat into the “ocean” just to get him to take a bath without screaming throughout the entire thing.
-Let him eat his dinner in our bed every night this week while watching Sesame Street just so that he would FOR THE LOVE OF GOD eat something.
-Made sure he ate his dinner on Chris’ side of the bed, then frantically swept the crumbs and small bits of noodle and pizza that did not make it into Alex’s mouth onto the floor.
-piled the laundry that Chris had dumped onto the bed to be folded back into the laundry basket because that is where Alex eats dinner now. And eating dinner on top of a clean pile of laundry is where I draw the line. For now.
-Made the Grover puppet “pee” on the potty to “get in the mood”.
-Co-created with Chris the hysterical rhyming game where you rhyme silly nonsense words with phrases such as “NO!” and “WANT ONE!” and “GO AWAY DADDY!”

Get out your helmets, your flak jackets, and whatever comfort item you choose because you are going to need them. 2 ½ has officially arrived. I know this because of the following comments, all within a single evening:

-I yuv you Mommy! (accompanied by an open handed slap across the cheek with the sound effect “whap!”)
-“I want FAGHETTI!!!!!!!”
-(shortly afterward) “I don’t WANT FAGHETTI!!!!!!! I want nofing! NO DINNER!”
-Mommy, let’s see what Diego is doing!
-NONONONONONONONONONO! NOT DAT ONE! THE REGULAR ONE! (no more clarification was given on this, so I had to try all three episodes on the disk. Apparently, the “regular” one does not exist on the only Diego dvd we own.)
-Mommy! MOMMY!!!! COME HERE! COME HERE NOW! (Alex, what do you need?) WATCH THIS! (when I come, he shakes his head and blows out…..it looks a lot like breathing. But I laugh and say, “That was funny.” He waits until I am back in the kitchen to call me back again for a repeat performance. And so dinner that night took over an hour to make, one step at a time before being summoned back to watch some version of the breathe-out-head-shake hysteria.)
-I want to brush my teeth! My teeth hurt! I need some Benadryl! In a cup! So I can sip it! (No Alex, you don’t get Benadryl for hurting teeth. Only for a stuffy nose) MY NOSE IS STUFFY. SEE??? SEE???? (breathes in and out vigorously – and without problem – through his nose) SEE MOMMY!!???

Sometimes, it’s enough to make me want to walk into my room, close the door and stick my head in the toilet. (Sometimes.)

It’s okay though….we went through a version of “Angry Alex” around this time last year – the dreaded half-year – but last year there were no words to go along with the screaming. I’m not sure which one is worse…because most of the words coming out of his mouth sound like insanity to me. Only the insane! End every sentence! With an exclamation point! Right?!

I love him more than anything on Earth, but really….maybe we could rent him out for the month of April and part of May as a form of birth control/sex deterrent for promiscuous high schoolers? Just a thought.

Oh and by the way, this morning when I dropped him off at my mom’s, he was cute enough to eat with a spoon and lick the carton afterward. Wanting to walk me to the door, wave goodbye, saying “I yuv you Mommy!” (with no accompanying whap in the face) and hopping around on the grass like a little bunny rabbit. Dammit.

Driving Me Insane

Alex has learned the wonder of driving. Granted, he does not have the wind in his hair and an empty road ahead of him, but rather a dark garage and an exhausted adult in the passenger seat. We tried for an entire 72 hours to keep driving an activity exlusive to Grandma and Papa's house, but did we really think we would win? Silly silly Mommy and Daddy. We actually had a bet over who would give in first. I won't drag the suspense out for you...... I won! But only because I happened to be out at the time of a particularly spirited debate between the two of them. We have had similar debates that go something like this:

Alex: "I want to sit in Mommy's driving seat."
Me: "You know we can't do that when the car is parked on the street.
Only in Grandma and Papa's garage."
Alex: "I WANT TO SIT IN MOMMY'S DRIVING SEAT! OKAY?? OKAY?? OKAY??
OKAAAAAAAAY MOMMY??!!!????"
Me: "I said No."
Alex: "AAAAAHHHHhhhh. AAAAAAaaaaaahhhh. AAAAAHHHHhhh.....................I'm crying
Mommy................................AAAAAAHHHHHHhhhhh. AAAAAAAHHHHHHHhhhhhh. AAAAAAAHHHHHHhhhh............................................I don't FEEL GOOD MOMMY."
Me: "I'm so sorry you don't feel good Sweetie. How about a big hug and kiss to help you feel better?"
(hug and kiss here)
Alex: (long pause, thinking about something)...... "I want to sit in Mommy's driving seat."

So is it any wonder Chris gave in? I am not judging him at all....just relieved that it was him, and not me, who gave up. I have a reptuation to uphold. So now, Alex is waking up at 6 AM and the first thing he says is, "I want to sit in Mommy's driving seat." We have resorted to using the timer as the bad guy. "Let's check the timer and see how much time is left before we can go drive.....hm. 60 minutes! What kind of fun can we have in our jammies inside that will take 60 minutes? How about watching Sesame Street?" And the only way to get him out of the car? Jelly beans. Just one will do the trick. "If you get out of the car without complaining, you can have a jelly bean. What color would you like?" Then he launches into describing what he does that we don't want him to do. He'll say, "I will say, AAAAHHHhhhhh more car, more car and that is 'plaining, right Mommy?" and then he trots his little butt out of the garage as if he doesn't have a care in the world. Meanwhile I am thinking about attaching my kitchen timer to some kind of necklace so I can wear it around my neck. Like a noose.

But I also recognize I have discovered his new currency. What is valuable and important to him is driving in my driver's seat. And so I am carefully planning how to use it (exploit? never.) to my advantage.

Odds and Ends

Okay.....some updates.

Sammy is doing much better. She still kind of tilts to the right, and walks somewhat sideways when she's in a hurry, but she's happy, tail wagging, eating (I think. I suspect McKinley is helping her out but have not been able to catch him), and overall it seems she will be with us a little bit longer. It's a huge relief to me, but we have all the dog heaven books ready to go just in case.

Alex pooped on the potty. He woke up this morning telling me he wanted a Thomas the Train track like they have at Sunday School. I said that if he could poop and pee on the potty for the 2 weeks I'm on vacation we'll buy him one. At first he said "No poop and pee on the potty" but that was at 7 AM and he pretty much says no to anything at that time. Except driving in Papa's car. I can get him dressed and out of the house in 5 minutes (and I'm talking crib to carseat) if I tell him Papa is waiting at his house for Alex to come over and "drive". So this morning he says "no poop and pee in the potty" so I leave it alone. I don't really WANT a Thomas the Train track in my house to be honest. But later on he wants to wear underwear. Okaaaaay. Then he pees on the potty. Great. Then he says "Mommy I have to poop" and he goes in the bathroom and sits down and poops. Not just once, but three times I had to say, "Are you done?" and he'd say "Not yet!" and squeeze another one out. I'm not sure how long we were in there, but I think our Signing Time Volume I dvd made it through an entire showing before we came out again. I was getting really worried we were going to have to go to Target to buy the track soon.....but then he peed his pants 2 times in about 2 hours. So I think our bank account is safe a little longer, though our carpet is taking a beating.

Other Alex news (because really what else is there? I work. Chris works. We eat and go to sleep and do it all again the next day) Chris asked him the other morning, "Alex, would you like a little baby sister or a little baby brother?" (don't freak out, I'm not pregnant) and Alex said "Um....no thank you." so Chris asked again, "Don't you want a little baby sister or brother?" and he pointed to his baby doll sitting in his shopping cart and said, "I already have a baby. She's over there."

Um...ok. Just to be safe he came into our room where I was still in bed and said, "Mommy, I don't want a baby sister or brother."

I'm not too worried. In the last week we've gotten him to eat pizza AND jelly beans.....and he loves them both. So I feel like the idea will grow on him and we've got (as of now) unlimited time.

Last night Alex held my face in his hands and said "You're the best mommy in the world." After I gave him a big kiss and hug I said, "Would you like a new car?"

Sammy

My Sammy girl has been pretty sick this week. On Monday she started stumbling around and falling over. I took her to the vet who told me she has vestibular disease. This is a neurological disorder that affects her balance - basically she's really really dizzy. There are two kinds - central and peripheral. The central kind is inside the brain and is mostly degenerative. The peripheral kind is common in old dogs (she's 15) and usually goes away on it's own. The vet was mostly convinced that she had the peripheral kind, but not 100% sure. So we're nursing her back to health slowly and hoping for the best. We have her penned in the family room, where we can take care of her and keep an eye on her. We carry her out to the yard every couple hours to go to the bathroom. We have to hand feed her - so far all she will eat is cottage cheese and velveeta (of course!) cheese. For a few days I even had to scoop water into my hand so she could stay hydrated. Her aim is pretty poor, and you can see her trying hard to focus on something in front of her. But yesterday evening and this morning she seems much improved....she was able to walk around a bit, and even stood up at one point to drink water out of her water dish. So we are very hopeful.

Alex has been very good with her. He talks to her a lot telling her he hopes she feels better soon, that she's a good girl and that he loves her. I'm very hopeful she will fully recover, but just in case we ordered Cynthia Rylant's "Dog Heaven" book so he will understand what happened to her if the worst happens.

Sammy is the best dog, is my most loyal friend and she has been my constant witness for the last 15 years. I hope she'll be with us a bit longer, but she's also an old dog who has lived a long life. She's a good, good girl.