Compassion

I've never heard of a decent parent who had to sit down with her kid and say, "Son, have I ever told you about love? Well, love means ..." Kids figure it out on their own, you know? As long as they see it, they sort of make their own definitions of what love is and isn't.

Same goes for compassion. Before Rain was born, I thought a while a bout how to teach her to be compassionate. I'll have to show her, I figured, but how? When?

I talked to Tim about it (who, by the way, is compassionate by nature ... the rest of us have to work at it), and he agreed that we'd have to show hospitality, generosity, and concern often, especially in our home, to teach Rain.

Maybe our plan was a good one, but it certainly wasn't thorough. I figured Rain would start noticing things later on, and we'd just have to wait to see if any of our modeling "took." But children are far more clever than that.

Yesterday, Rain found her doll which I had packed away. Rain has only one doll, and it was given to her by a friend of ours. She said it was her doll as a child (she's a teen now), but that it looked so much like Rain, she had to give it to her. Well, yesterday the doll came out of the box it was packed in. Prior to yesterday, Rain had hardly paid the doll any attention. She played with if for a few minutes when she first received it, but that was about it.

Well, Rain picked up the doll and carried it--gently, mind you--to the guest bedroom. She put it on the bed, climbed on top as well, and sat next to it. There was a toy piano there, and Rain played, as if trying to entertain the doll. Afterwards, she carried it into her bedroom. Since then, Rain has carried, cuddled, and loved on the doll the way we have done to her many, many times.

Kids know. They are constantly watching and learning long before we're aware, and long after we've noticed. It's freaky.

As a final tidbit, the other day, my sister-in-law graciously offered to watch Rain all day (from 9 to 6--and she has a 3-year-old son and a daughter a month older than Rain, for crying out loud), so I could finish painting Rain's room. Tim picked Rain up, and afterwards gave me a full account of how she did.

The good news was Rain had behaved fantastically. She ate well, played well, and napped well. Awesome.

There was only one bit of interesting news to report. Around 4:00, when she normally takes her nap, Rain walked to the front door. She just stood there, staring at the door. She began to whimper, probably wondering where I was and who would put her down for a nap.

Well, her cousin Celeste walked up to Rain, patted her head, and sang, "Roo, roo, roo," which is the chant her mother cuddles her with when she's sad. They held each other for a bit, and Rain settled down.

Who's teaching who, I wonder.

Later, Mom

Sometimes, Rain surprises me. Ok, she surprises me a lot, but I mean in a good way, too. During the past week, I've unpacked a lot of Rain's toys. She hasn't seen them in months, so I was curious to see if she'd recognize them. Most of them she did, but that wasn't the fun part.

Toys that she couldn't figure out how to use before, she picked up and tah-dah! She put 'em together and took 'em apart like, "This is so ... infantile." She's right: she's a toddler now and needs something more than stacking rings. She even sat on top of her elephant rocking toy and started riding it like a BMX bike. Previously, she never sat on it for longer than a minute, and I had to have both hands on her.

Yesterday was the most surprising.

See, Rain was born on a Sunday. And the very next Sunday, we took her to church to show her off (c'mon, I'd been working on her for 9 months, better believe I showed her off). Since then, we've taken her every week. For the first few months, she just slept or cried during church. Then she took a liking to the preacher, and for a few more months, she did her best to sit up and get his attention. Once she learned to crawl, the game was up. I practically had to manhandle Rain to keep her from crawling under the pews. Three weeks ago, she learned how to hop over them.

Then a funny thing happened. Two weeks ago, my nephew and niece started to go to Bible class together. Rain stayed with me every week, and I didn't even realize she noticed that her cousins were off doing something different than she was.

Yesterday, we went to church, and before things got rolling, I was searching the floors for a shoe Rain had lost (by "lost," I mean purposefully removed and hid). I got distracted, and after a minute, I ran into Tim. I said, "Rain's not with you?" So, we did the parenting hustle, but couldn't find her in the auditorium where she normally plays.

We found her ... in the preschool classroom. The teacher said Rain walked in and sat next to her cousins. The teacher was a bit puzzled, but gave Rain a coloring sheet anyway. Rain colored quietly, and that's what she was doing when I found her. I said hello to her from the door, though I didn't go in. Rain stayed in her seat. Don't ya know, that kiddo stayed in class the entire time? The teacher said she never cried or tried to leave or anything. The kids in class said Rain loved the singing part and danced herself silly.

When class ended, I met Rain at the door. She acknowledged me with a hug to my legs, but that was it. She ran down the hall to play with her cousins.

And, don't laugh, but, well, I was standing there, and I sort of felt a little tug at the marble heart. She's a growin', and doesn't need me to be there for every single thing. It's totally cool.

...

I'm fine, no really, just have dust in my eyes, must be allergies ...

Better Days

After Rain's meltdown yesterday, it's hard to feel like better days are ahead. But, after only a few hours, she was back to normal. So, I made her & Syrene their first s'mores. It was a sort of peace offering, in the hopes we could move on. Rain, as expected, loved it (see above), and I was glad just to be on good terms again.

Later that night, we went to church. Rain was playing on a pew, slipped a bit, and bumped her head on the pew back. I thought, "Here it comes. The scream fest is about to start all over again," because Rain never misses an invitation to a pity party. My mom saw her hit her head, too, and we both watched her for the dreaded response.

Rain bent over, touched her hand to her head, and said, "Ow."

That was it. Now that's somethin' to keep a soul peaceful.

Boxing Day: Not Just for Canadians

There's no reason why anyone should stay in an abusive relationship. If you're in an abusive relationship, you don't "have" to stay.

Unless the abuser is your kid.

Then you stay. It's the law.

Round 1

Yesterday, Rain beat me up. I'm not proud I got smacked down by a toddler, but there it is. I was holding her on my hip as I took away some contraband she had in her hand. I seriously can't remember if it was a rock, pencil, or stolen iPod because in a moment, as you'll see, she knocked me senseless. Anyway, when I pulled the object away--whatever it was--she started flapping about. She jerked her body backwards (the typical toddler arched back) in disapproval. This wouldn't have been a problem, except when she came back towards me, she knocked her head into my cheek and eye. Her skull got me right on my cheek bone and eye.

It hurt. Real bad like. I had to kneel to avoid dropping Rain on the floor. Her forehead was red, but was she crying? Nope.

First of all, Rain's head is ROCK solid. (FYI: regardless of what our parents claimed, there's almost no way kids will ever "crack their heads open." Trust me, Rain's tried).

Second, Rain was too busy staring at me. She was fascinated by my pain/anger.

There I was trying to keep her safe, and she had hit me! Ok, sure, it was probably an accident, but if she hadn't thrown a fit, she wouldn't have slammed her head into my eye. My eye!

I was holding the side of my face, and giving her a "See what you did??" look. She knew I was hurtin', and that she had done something very wrong. She walked away at first like, "Don't care 'cause I'm mad at you." Still sitting on the floor, I turned my back to her. I wanted her to know she'd caused me pain. When I peeked, I saw Rain had grabbed hold of a foot ladder I had been using to paint a shelf. I guess she figured, "You're going to turn your back on me? Well, then, I'll climb this ladder you're always taking away!"

I kept my back turned as I rubbed my face. Finally, Rain came toddling over. For a few moments, she sat next to me. She was kind of sympathizing and seemed a tad remorseful. After five seconds of humanity, she realized she was a toddler with short-term memory loss, and was all, "Hey, is that your laptop open over there?" The glowing screen was too much for her. She was up and out in a second, assumably to beat my laptop.

Round 2

I've been told by my sister that when Rain gets mad at her older cousin Syrene (who is almost 5)--you know, when they fight over toys and the like--that Rain takes it out on Syrene's little sister Madi. This has happened about 3 or 4 times, but I've never seen it myself.

Until today.

Today Rain and Syrene were playing together (my sister was out on an errand). Most of the time, they have a lot of fun together. Eventually and inescapably, they'll decide that there's only one cool toy in the room, and they must both play with it at the same time. At this point, I usually check my pockets for what kind of parental phrases I might have handy.

"Why don't we take turns?" Check.
"Toys are meant to be shared." Check.
"If you don't learn to share, no one will want to play with you." Check.

I was bouncing Madi on my leg when Syrene decided to hit Rain to get a toy. Before I could intervene, Rain hit Syrene back. I was a bit surprised (mind you, Tim & I never hit each other & Rain isn't allowed to watch TV, so I was a bit, "Where did you learn that from?"), but still, I was determined to end the madness.

Well, now arms were flying, and somehow Rain seemed to get that she was in no way going to whip up on an almost-five-year-old. So, she turned around and SMACKED Madison on the head. I'm thinking:

1. How does Rain know that hurting Madison is like hurting Syrene? Isn't that a little too clever? In a sinister sort of way?

2. Stop!

At this point, I switched right into intinct mode. Forget the parenting books. War manuals do you no good when you're in the trenches. I was so instinctively mad at Rain for hitting an infant that I took her hand, and said, "NO!" with Death in my voice.

Rain quickly raised her hand again and hit Madison. I grabbed Rain's hand, and with all the sadness building up in me, I smacked her hand and said, "I SAID 'NO'."

We stared at each other for a moment. Rain was shocked (I've never hit her before), and I was mad. More than that, I was so, so, so very sad that I had to put the smack down on Rain. But I promised myself a long time before Rain was born, that no matter what, if I have to chose between being her therapist-friend or parent, I was going to have to suck it up and be a mom.

I should've just stayed mad.

The minute Rain saw that change in my eyes--from anger to sadness--my advantage was over. She got all huffy, walked off, flung herself on the carpet, and gave me a sassy look.

"Don't hit Madison," I told her again, trying to sound firm.

If you've ever seen a Wallace & Gromit flick--the clay animation stuff--then you know how expressive eyes can be. Gromit doesn't talk; it's all in the eyes. Anyway, if you've seen Gromit in action, then you know what it's like to deal with a toddler. They search your eyes for all kinds of information and offer the same in return.

Well, I could tell from Rain's eyes that she knew I was defending Madi. She huffed for half a minute longer, then begged to be carried.

Neither of us raised a white flag, to be sure, but we did opt for a truce.

Monkey & (Wo)Man

Monkey

Sometimes I wonder how a child ever grows up to be an adult. A creature whose life policy is to identify items by eating them first would seem to have little chance of surviving. In the last week, Rain has:

1. Eaten petroleum jelly

2. Chewed 6 cents in change, a screw, and plastic wiring (she did, however, turn down vanilla yogurt)

3. Climbed a large roll of bubble wrap, a free-standing utility shelf, and a stack of bricks

I have a rock collection on the kitchen counter from all the contraband I've confiscated from Rain's cheeks and hands. Thank goodness she doesn't have pockets.

(Wo)Man

Just when I think, "Wow, my kid has absolutely no life skills," Rain will work some magic. In the last two weeks, she has:

1. Done some Moonwalking. She smiled at me, and on her first try, walked smoothly backwards halfway across the room like, "Who knew this thing went in reverse??"

2. Tried to sing. The other night we were at church, and loud enough for everyone to hear, she started to kinda sing. She held out some notes throughout an entire verse of a song and was so proud of herself. While I'm on the subject of music, let me just say this: Rain will have so much more rhythm than her parents. When I turn on the radio, she doesn't dance or bob her head until the right song comes on. And when she does bob her head, it's not toddler-like (awkward jerking or whatnot). She does it too cool like, "Yeah, man, keep that beat going. Why don't you lay that track over some Veggie Tales and make me a remix?" The first time I saw her jam like that I laughed and laughed because she looked like a teenager. Then I remembered that some day she'd actually be a teenager. Party over.

3. Shown a little love. I've been painting/cleaning our new house all week. Sometimes I want to pass out on the floor from the work (and the fumes). I was taping down a door the other day, when Rain walked up to me. After observing a minute, she picked up a piece of tape and stuck it gently on the window. She looked at me to verify that this was a good place and, well, it was a little sweet. When I cleaned the windows later, guess who had a paper towel to help Mommy? If only Tim was so enthusiastic ...

4. Fine-tuned her lunch etiquette. I handed Rain her lunch yesterday, and I got a precious, "Tank Yoo." Today she tried to poor her own drink. It was a disaster but a decent try.

I guess what I'm saying is, in the battle of Baby vs. Beast, Baby is in the lead overall.

For now.

Belly Button

Today, Rain found her belly button. She stared at the little hole, poked at it, stared at it some more, and probably realizing it was permanent, looked up sadly at me and said,

"Oh no."

Don't worry, little Rainbow, there are far more cosmetically frightening things in the world:
http://www.amazon.com/Beautiful-Mommy-Michael-Alexander-Salzhauer/dp/1601310323/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1218577348&sr=8-1

Tank Yooo

Thanks to those of you who've taken the time to visit racetoraeleigh.com; I'll post updates as we go along. Thanks again!

In other news ...

Since birth, Rain has communicated largely by grunting approval/disapproval and crying. My niece, who is about 8 months old, has made all kinds of babbles since she was born. Rain was never like that. Her baby book had a place every month to update "New Words I Learned," and I felt like writing, "See previous month." How many variations of "Ahhhh" could there be?

Then came the slow interest in verbiage. Rain started with "Da-ee" ("Daddy") and "Ma!" A few weeks ago she added things like "Oh!" and "Oh, wow!" To hear her make words was surprising and weird. Then about two weeks ago, Rain didn't seem satisfied with the basics anymore. She looked as if she was concentrating on the sounds coming out of my mouth. She would point to a light, and I would say, "Light." Even though she would answer, "Ga," every time she saw a light she would say, "Ga." I was happy that at the very least she was consistent.

Then 3 days ago, it happened. This is exactly the way it went down:

Rain fell asleep in her crib at 9:00. At 4 A.M., she started crying in her bedroom. Tim brought her to me, and I fell asleep holding her. At 7:00 (her usual wake-up time), Rain sat up in bed. We opened our eyes and stared at her. She pointed to the bed and said very clearly, "What is it?"

Tim and I stared at each other. Very slowly, Tim said, "Um, a blanket?"

Rain considered this for a second and said, "Oh."

Is this the way it happens?? She goes to sleep at 9:00, and somehow 10 hours later she speaks English? This was no fluke, either. Since then, Rain has pointed to things over and over to ask, "What is it?" or "What's that?" She's clearly delighted that we're communicating on some level.

The same day, "What is it?" appeared, Rain and I were playing with blocks in her room. As usual, I handed her blocks as I said, "Thank you" and "You're welcome." After a minute, she handed me a block, and as sweetly as possible, said, "Tank yooo."

My kid just used a polite phrase? Tissue, please.