Friends Like Me

Total milestone today:

I took Rain to a bookstore today. Like the last time we went a few days ago, she quickly found the stage area where they do storytime for the kiddos. She gets up there, and for whatever reason, begins what I can only call an oration. I mean, she is laying it out there. Her hands are all flappin' with emotion, and she's using phrases like, "Remember!" and "OK? OK?" emphatically. After several minutes of addressing the audience (mainly me), she returns to a play area where there's a train track set up with lots of trains. I'm still sort of laughing about her whole speech thing, when Rain walks up to a little girl (a few years older than herself) playing with a train. She sort of plays next to her for a minute, then all casual like, says, "What your name?"

I was stunned. Rain loves playing with anybody, but she usually just resorts to saying, "Hey, Girl, follow me!" or, "Hey, Boy, want [to] play?" To hear her actually put into simple words a request for an intro to friendship was ... cool. I mean, for a second, I got a smidgen of a cringe in my belly ("If this older girl totally rejects her or ignores Rain, how is she gonna take it? Will she care or understand?"). After a few moments of silence (when I began to wonder if the girl had heard her at all), she said, "Vivian." Rain said, "Oh." That pretty much sealed the deal. They played until Vivian had to go home.

She may have her daddy's stern gaze, but she has her mommy's need for social interaction (read: find me on Facebook)! Muah haha

Trippin'

So, we're finally going on vacation. We haven't been on a major trip since '05. And who doesn't want to cart around a toddler through Europe?? I don't know about you, but that gets me all kinds of excited. :) So, here is peek at the madness (beginning this Friday):

http://family.maakestad.com/europe/

Wish us luck ...

I Know, I Know

Get your pitchforks, clubs, and torches. It's totally ok to beat me, because I deserve it. I got a kindly email from my friend last week asking why I've gone MIA on this blog. I have reasons, and none of them are probably acceptable, but here they are:

1. Writing has usurped the little time I had before. For a year, I've been working on a young adult novel (believe it or not, the story isn't about a distraught mother with an insane two-year-old ... fiction is supposed to be about escape, right??). I am currently penning the last chapter, and with my goal within reach, I truly have used all my extra time to work on it. Meaning, when Rain takes her 2-hr nap during the middle of the day, I race to write. Because when she's awake and she sees me on my laptop, she eyes it and says, "Goodnight, computer." Hint, hint.

2. Ever since Rain turned 2, I've had misgivings about blogging about her routines and posting her photos. When she was a baby, she looked like, well, every other chubby baby. Now that her face is actually distinguishable, I've had doubts about posting her pics online as I have done. In a few months, I plan to remove all of her online photos. Parent-noia? Sure, but I recognize we don't live in Mayberry anymore, either. So, I'm on Facebook now. I post stuff about Rain (plus photos) there, because I can screen it better than I can here.

3. Last but not least, there is Rain. Yes, Rain is the reason there is very little blogging about Rain. Some kids are sort of quiet and do-my-own-thing types. Rain, alas, wants to do ALL OUT living 24/hours a day, and I'm sort of treading water. See below.

So how has little Miss Rainbow been these many months? I have always likened our relationship as one a girl might have with a bad high school boyfriend. I find myself thinking, "You're treating my terribly, but if I just love you enough, you'll change!" One moment, she can make me feel so proud and loved (like the other day, when she saw a cut on my hand, she kissed it gently), and the next day, I want to gouge my eye out in frustration (like last week, when she refused to use the potty for two days to show me she doesn't have to potty train until she darn well feels like it).

She has a posse/gang now (her 2 cousins), and I find that her love for books (sigh) is not a match for athletics. I have yet to find a slide, bounce house, or piece of furniture high enough or intimidating enough to frighten her. She cajoles other children much older than her to join her in doing things that would make the average mother bite her nails to the nubs. But, she's already made me jaded. Moms at the playground must think I'm a heartless slug who wants to see my child get hurt because I make halfhearted efforts to stop her from using the tallest slides and steepest jungle gyms. And I just wanted her to love reading Curious George. Sigh.

Rain has also developed a shameless geekiness about her. She hums the Star Wars theme song, works the iPhone likes it's another hand, and prefers the chocolate milk at Starbucks to any other drink. Period.

I digress.

My original point was, I shall try again to update this here blog for the time being, though the entries will have to be much shorter than what I just wrote. :) Thank you for your patience, and please, remember to blow out your torches on the way out.

Heavenly Fodder

Tonight, for the first time, Rain said a prayer herself before she went to sleep. She has on occasion mimicked the act, but has never actually said anything understandable. Tonight, she said, quite clearly:

Heavenly Fodder,

Thank you.

For my house, Isaiah [her cousin, pictured above], Tete [nickname for Rain's best buddy, pictured above],

Mommy, Da-ee [Daddy], Me-ma [Grandma], Weeta [Abuelita, great-grandma], and Nemo and Dori [from Finding Nemo].

Amen.

There are many things I could say about this moment. I wish I had more time to write of all the things that have changed for me in the last two years. For those of you who kindly followed my pregnancy and checked in on Rain's toddlerhood, thank you. For those who have a baby on the way for the first time and have found some comfort that I have survived so far: trust me, everything is going to be OK.

Amen.

Potty Draining

Last night Rain had a nightmare. She tossed and turned, but because she's only seen G-rated movies in her life, her brain didn't have much frightening material to work with, apparently. So, she shouted words like "shoes" (she hates when she can't go with us everywhere, and often demands her shoes so she can follow), "papas"(the Spanish word for potatoes, her code word for food in general, meaning she's hungry), and finally "pee-pee."

Pee-pee. Yes, mommy would categorize "pee-pee" as a nightmare, too.

Potty training is the last major test of wills between a parent and a toddler. After, of course, begins the test of wills between a parent and a full-grown kid then a parent and a teen, but still, let's not lose focus.


At first, Rain's potty training seemed to be going smoothly. We bought her a little potty, and she showed no signs of resistance. She wasn't afraid to sit on it like some kids are. In fact, she would sit a long time on the potty and do nothing. No pee, no poo--nothing. Fine, I thought, we'll just get her used to sitting on it, and that little accomplishment will be all that's needed for the week.

We bought her a second potty (you know, to cover our bases), and put her in Pull-Ups. She peed in the potty several times, and we cheered like madmen. Quickly, she was in regular panties, and I truly believed she was on her way to toilet independence.

At some point, Rain realized how dear potty training had become for me. I pine for the day we won't have to buy packages of over-price Pull-Ups and wipes. When I would try to coax Rain to use the potty, she began to tell me things like, "No, thanks!" Her rebuffs were cheerful at first. Then she would say angrily, "No pee-pee!" and run away. I would put her on the potty, she would sit there for five minutes, walk away, and then pee in her pants.

This was maddening. After two weeks, she got a tummy ache one day, and that brought us back to step 1 all over again.

Last week we had our carpets professionally cleaned, because though I thoroughly cleaned each of Rain's disaster, I wanted a fresh start, if you will.

Rain's gotten a bit fed up, too. Not only did her cousin (1 month older than her) get the process down in less than a month (no accidents in a month, too), Rain has gotten embarrassed about the whole potty thing. She tries hiding her wet Pull-Ups (won't let me change them), and will NOT poop until she's entirely alone. I know where this comes from, and it's partly my fault. Though I've never razzed her for "accidents" I do sigh deeply when I have to clean poo from her pants (c'mon, wouldn't you?). I give a feeble, "C'mon, Rain, please put poop in the potty. It's right here, see? Just let Mommy know if you need help ..."

I shouldn't have commented at all. Now she thinks the actual act of pooping is what's disgusting, not getting it all over the carpet. So, she tries to hold it or hide when she needs to go. Now we're going to have to start all over again.

I comfort myself with the fact that there aren't too many five-year-olds running around with diapers, so just statistically, Rain should get this thing down eventually. But the thought of this going on for even another month, let alone years, is ... Well, I'll just have to keep the carpet cleaner number handy (*sigh*).

Twit-urrr

If I had a Twitter account, my uh, twits today would've gone as follows:

- Using public bathroom. Rain ran to different stall. Locked me out. Unrolling toilet paper.
- At clothing store. Rain lost. Again. Found snuggled up in bedding display.
- In waiting room. Caught Rain trying to eat cashew. Used cashew.
- Must cut down Starbucks visits. Rain got her 'usual' (chocolate milk carton) from drink counter herself.
- Rain demanding I draw WALL-E on back of Target receipt. Can't remember if WALL-E has mouth. Rain corrected drawing.

As Mr. Billy Joel said, "And so it goes ..."

Bring It

I went to the mall today (I know, I'm a sadist). My sister-in-law and I took the kiddos (Rain and her two cousins, ages 2 and 3) to play in the mini park inside. Anyway, I've read enough parenting magazines to know the kind of drama that happens at playgrounds (bullies, accidents, and--gasp--children running around without sunscreen), but we decided to go anyway.

We get there, and Rain is excited. She takes off her shoes (following the rules) and runs off like mad. I'm feeling pretty good, because the place is enclosed, air-conditioned, and all the parents are sitting right there.

Strangely enough, it's that last item that actually makes the playground scene uncomfortable. Because parents are sitting in full view of their kids, this makes for some weirdness. When kids start shoving each other, for instance, you expect a parent to intervene, and when one doesn't, it's like, "Wha??" Then the other observant parents are sitting there staring at each other like, "What are we gonna do about this nonsense?" or "Did you notice that kid's not wearing any sunscreen?" Or if a kid freaks out at the top of the slide and blocks the line from moving, where's the mom to get things started again? There are all kinds of mediocre issues like these that demand attention, you know?

So. For quite a while, I was pretty impressed that Rain and her cousins played politely with all the other children. It's not that our band is a sinful little bunch, but when you work daily to mold and discipline kids, it's easy to forget that the hard work eventually brings results. Trust me, after Rain throws a fit at home, I find myself delving out punishments thinking, "Am I going to be on TV some day explaining to the public, 'I did the best I could with her?'" I digress. Anyway, it didn't take me long to notice that there was a little boy running around the playground pushing by others, yelling, and fighting with his equally evil siblings (a boy and another girl far too old to be swinging around in a playground). Though Rain and Celeste (Rain's cousin, who is only a month older than her) happened to play far away from this boy, I sensed there would be trouble eventually. After half an hour, though, I let my guard down and began perusing a magazine (of course, I did the sporadic mom thing: read one paragraph, check on kids, read another paragraph, check on kids ...).

At one point, I hear the girls chanting. I look up, and Rain & Celeste are sitting on a nearby bench side by side. Together they shout, "____, no!" I can not make out exactly what they're saying, but they're passionately chanting it in unison. At first, I think, "How cute--they're singing ... I think." Then I notice they're leaning forward, brows furrowed. Puzzled, I move to the side and realize that a piece of playground equipment has hidden from me the focus of their ire.

The little boy who had been trolling the grounds for trouble had finally engaged them. He looked to be 2 or 3 years older than Rain, though he carried a stuffed horse (what gives?). He screamed, and to his obvious surprise, the girls screamed back. In a move of a solidarity, they decided that instead of running from this brat, they were going to provoke him to put his horsey where his mouth was. He shouted again, and they chanted at him with a tone that amounted to, "Bring it!" The boy stepped closer and screamed again. Already my leg was twitching as I debated, "Should I let them handle it? Is this going to amount to character building or a cock fight?"

The girls chanted again, and the boy came closer. He was furious that they would not run. He stepped within two paces of them and raised his hand. That did it. My sister-in-law could take no more. She rushed over there, but the boy only swung his toy in anger. Once he saw that a mom was on duty, he scurried away. The girls were like, "Yeah, and don't come back!"

The boy's mom, of course, never once paused in her conversation with a friend to correct her son. So, what did I do? I sat back and picked up my magazine. Maybe it was smug, but I felt a bit sunnier knowing when it came down to it, the girls weren't going to be punked out by some bully. And if the kid runs around in public with a stuffed toy at his age, you know his mom doesn't make him wear sunscreen, either.