Dayjamas

The good ol' days

Last Friday Kiku came down with a virus and had to stay home from preschool.  She had a fever, a runny nose, and was terribly cranky.  I tried to keep her activity level down in order for her to get some rest, but it wasn't easy.  (She never wants to slow down, even when she's feeling miserable - a quality she gets from JJ who is exactly the same way.)  So I decided to put her crib mattress on the floor and let her jump to get her ya ya's out, and then managed to calm things down a bit with a few books, some playdough, and an episode of Sesame Street.  Three quarters of the way through the morning I noticed that Kiku's eyelids were getting heavy, plus she was running into things and tripping and falling more than usual.  I suggested that she go lie down and rest, but, true to form, she said, "no!  I'm ok!  I wanna play, Mama!"  So I let her continue with whatever she was doing (putting together an Easter egg party, I believe) since it was so close to naptime, but within five minutes she asked me if it was time to take a nap.  I couldn't believe it.  Kiku asking to take a nap?  And 15 minutes before her regular time?!  This could only mean one thing:  the girl was tired.  While we were going through her nap routine I felt relieved that she was finally going to get some rest, but a short lived feeling it was because she just wouldn't let herself sleep.  That's right, no napping occured.  She ended up spending some "quiet time" in her room, which was better than nothing I suppose, but the remainder of the afternoon was pretty miserable (for both of us).  When Kiku doesn't take a nap, she gets all wound up.  She bounces off the walls, has a hard time focusing, and lashes out with fingernails.  At about 4:45 pm, I put her in the crib to "take a break" after she did a few too many things that make parents want to bang their fists into pillows and scream.  She was out like a light, and slept until 3:30 AM.

The rest of the evening was bliss.  I'd forgotten what it felt like to cook in peace.  It was so relaxing to take my time and enjoy the process.  Dinner was calm.  I savored my food and was able to have an actual conversation with my husband.  It felt like the days before our intense child had joined the family. 

Normally, the period between cooking dinner and bed time is very chaotic and stressful.  Kiku usually demands my attention when I'm in the kitchen and asks to be picked up whenever I'm at the stove.  It's not enough to stand on a stool and watch, and rarely is she interested in helping me cook like so many other kids her age seem to enjoy doing.  No, she wants to be held.  JJ often tries to distract her with other things if he's home, but it's hard to pull her away.  She is persistent.

Dinnertime is tense.  Kiku will sit at the table for about ten minutes, doing any of the following:  pick at her food, constantly demand drinks she's not allowed to have (I knew it was a mistake to let her have a sip of soda that one time!), throw food she doesn't like on the floor, pour juice or milk onto the table, or bang her fork or spoon.  All the while we run interference, asking her to pick up what she's thrown on the floor, doing what we can to get her to stop banging, etc.  I can't remember the last time she ate a good dinner.  When she's done, she'll get down from the table and ask us to play with her, as she's not content to play by herself.  We tell her that we'll spend time with her when we're finished, but she still persists.  It doesn't help to set up an activity for her to do while she's waiting for us.   It doesn't help to include her in converstation at the table.  We've tried turning on the TV, but she gets bored after a few minutes and flips it off. 

Experiencing a calm evening last week allowed me to realize just how miserable we all are at dinnertime, so I've decided that it's time for us to try something new.  I'm going to start giving her dinner early, around 5:00 or 5:30, and then offer a small snack before bed.  JJ and I can eat later, after she goes to bed.  We'll see how it goes.  I have a hunch that our normal dinnertime of 6:30ish might be too late for her, and I've noticed that she sometimes sleeps better when she's had some protein at the end of the night.  I'm hoping this might help improve her mood in the mornings as well.  Lately she's been waking up on the irritable side, and our morning routine (changing diapers, getting dressed, brushing teeth) has been nothing short of a struggle. 

I'm crossing my fingers.

Unpleasant behavior

This morning as I was using a stick to scoop Boo's poop onto a piece of paper I'd found in the trash at Greenlake (note to self: always remember to carry extra bags), I thought about the two Grey-haired women who'd just raised their eyebrows at me while I was leafing through the trash and wondered what they were thinking.  Did I look like someone searching for their next meal?  Or perhaps one of those dumpster divers they'd read about?  A recycling scavenger?  Or maybe they saw my dog, glanced at the pile of fresh, steaming excrement a few yards away, and put two and two together.  The fact of the matter is that you just never know what another persons situation is. 

Being the parent of a spirited daughter has helped me to become a much less judgmental person.   When your child has no qualms about having tantrums or being demanding in public, you get the looks.  Usually downward glances and always without a smile.  You never know if people are feeling for you or if they're thinking what a horrible parent you must be.  They don't know that you're giving it everything you've got to be a good parent, how many nights you've stayed up because your child is a challenged sleeper, or that you're just doing the best you can given the circumstances. 

A few weeks ago I was watching Oprah and the topic that day was overindulged children.  Oprah said that when you see a child having a tantrum in the grocery store, you always know it's the parents and not the child.  Snap!  A very  presumptuous statement coming from someone who isn't a parent, in my opinion.  There are different temperaments, Oprah, and some children are just harder than others.  And yes, I'm getting defensive because I have one of those children! 

When I see kids acting out in a grocery store or restaurant, I don't judge.  I give the parents some sympathy and a smile, because I know it ain't easy.