January 05, 2016
August 12, 2014
February 04, 2014
Don't get me wrong, I don't regret motherhood at all. I just miss my mind. At least it served me well while I had it. I think it did, anyway. I don't really know. I forget.
Right now it's kindergarten registration time. That's tougher than it sounds. I am juggling multiple contingency plans as I try to navigate through the catch-22s of poorly aligned education and daycare systems. Someday Kai will laugh at me when he hears how much I stressed out over arranging a junior kindergarten placement. He'll have no idea unless he becomes a parent -- nay, a mom, which isn't likely.
I need a break, a massage, a vacation, a stiff drink, a whole whack of me-time. I won't get most of those things. Understand this, though: I wouldn't trade parenthood for anything.
February 04, 2013
Kai went through a phase of "five" fanaticism. The number five was the best number. It was worth watching the clock-radio display until a five showed up -- or, better yet, TWO fives! For several consecutive weeks, every single night after finishing his bedtime bottle Kai would twist around to stare at the clock, remarking excitedly whenever the numbers changed.
Kai occasionally enjoys being playfully contrary. If I say something is high, he'll say it's low. If I say dark, he'll say light. When I told him he was a big boy he corrected me, saying, "I'm a LITTLE boy. A CUTE little boy."
One day our ketchup bottle sputtered as I squeezed it over Kai's dish. We don't have ketchup often, but whenever we do Kai will remind us that "Ketchup toots."
At 26 months
I administered ear drops and Kai's reaction was to inform me that "It pops in my ear.... like a balloon." I don't know if that's word association or a comparison or maybe a simile, but I'm thrilled that my two-year-old can make it.
The first time Kai encountered egg salad was at my parents' home. His reaction: "Nana, what stinks?"
Kai paused during dinner, reached across the table toward Scott and said, "Hug Daddy! Daddy too far!" Scott obligingly stood up and moved within reach. As Scott opened his arms for a hug, Kai turned his attention back to his plate and said, "I'm eating, Daddy."
At two and a half
Actual conversation with Kai:
Kai (eyes watering): Poop.
Me: Are you pooping?
Kai: Yes. (grunts) It's a hard poop, Mommy.
Me: Tell me when you're done and I'll change your diaper.
Kai: Change my diaper, Mommy.
Kai (in a fresh diaper): I want to eat prunes in my rocking chair.
Kai has reached a stage where he spontaneously tells me that he loves me. I found it heartwarming... until we pulled into an Esso station and he exclaimed, "I LOVE gas!" Nice to know that I'm right up there with petrol.
Kai was studying the word "Minigo" on his yogurt container and, turning it upside down, he remarked that the small "g" looked like a 6. He then asked where the seven was. I said, "There's no seven, Kai. You're looking at the 'g' upside down so it _looks_ like a 6, but there are no numbers on your yogurt." Kai pointed at the expiration date – June 7 – and said, "There it is!" As I praised him for his keen eyesight and observation skills, he said, "YOU were talking about NO seven." I'm surprised that he wasn't shaking his head at me in exasperation.
After a diaper change, Kai decided that he did not want to wear pants or socks. Since it was comfortably warm in the house, I obliged. When I asked him shortly thereafter if he wanted a hot dog for lunch, he replied, "I want a hot dog with no pants and socks. I want to eat a hot dog in my diaper."
My usual term of endearment for Scott is "sweetie." Evidently this has not escaped Kai's notice. Recently, while I was clearing the dishes, I heard Kai call to me from the dining room, "Sweetie, take me out of my high chair."
We tend to shop at Loblaws, which Kai pronounces "Bloblaws." One day we opted instead to go to the appropriately named No Frills. For those who are unfamiliar with the chain, its logo features a pair of bananas. Kai had been pleased about the prospect of grocery shopping, but when we pulled into the No Frills parking lot he exclaimed in horror, "Not the banana store! I want to go to Bloblaws!" Much to my surprise, Scott pulled out of the parking lot and headed straight to Loblaws. It turns out that Scott hates the banana store too.
One day Kai's daycare phoned me at work to report that Kai was sick. When I arrived at the daycare to bring Kai home, I found him sitting on the floor with flushed cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. Staff told me that he had been lying on the floor most of the morning, had a slight fever and was so congested he was struggling to breathe. As I bundled Kai up in his hat, mittens and winter jacket, he asked where we were going. I explained that I had come to take him home since he wasn't feeling well. He was quiet while I strapped him into his stroller and wheeled him out the door and across the yard of the daycare. As we passed through the gate onto the street Kai yelled out, "Yay! I'm better!"
At 34 months
At my niece's birthday party there was a small bouncy castle that could safely fit about four children. To facilitate turn-taking, my brother would ring a small handbell every few minutes so that the jumping kids would know to come out and allow the next group of kids to go in. Kai was eager for his turn. When he spotted the handbell unattended he ran over, rang it, and quickly returned to his place in line. Sure enough, it worked.
I usually read Kai two stories as part of his bedtime routine. The other evening I decided to make up my own story. I began, "There once was a wonderful boy named Kai." Kai interrupted, saying, "I don't want to talk about me." As you can see, that makes one of us.
November 29, 2012
October 20, 2012
September 09, 2012
Kai is wonderful. Sure, he is already a typical two-year-old, with tantrums and a premature sense of independence, but that's just one facet of his blossoming character. He's an observant, polite, funny, affectionate, bright and happy little boy. Earlier today, while at my parents' house, he began walking down the street. My dad asked him where he was headed. Kai replied, "Park. Hurry." I might not have been able to give him a party, but he knows how to make his own fun.
Kai can count and he has been reciting the alphabet for quite some time. His vocabulary and comprehension amaze me. He is able to connect concepts, remember details and express himself to a degree far beyond what I would expect for his age. My capacity for loving him knows no bounds. I love watching him play, try new things, and squeal with joy; I love holding him and reading to him; I love seeing him off to sleep at night.
Happy birthday, my dearest boy.
September 05, 2012
August 07, 2012
I was going to use this post to bitch about the fact that things have gone from bad to worse, with another daycare crisis and both my job and Scott's in jeopardy, but I decided that complaining wouldn't make my remaining few readers happy to see a new post from me. I'll come up for air again once things are looking up (hoping that this will actually happen after such a long run of rotten luck).
May 12, 2012
And that's all she wrote.