truett's trail

Tru has always been a little bit doppy. Until just recently, he had a tendency to fall down a lot. He is one of those kids who runs while looking at stuff all around him rather than his destination. He once drove a friends kid-sized four-wheeler into the broad side of their very large shed, simply because he was looking down at his feet instead of in front of him.
Now the doppiness is mixing in with the impulsiveness and creating quite a few messes. A few nights ago he decided to throw a pillow into the air while he was watching shows. He can't throw it up and catch it so of course it went careening into the end table and knocked over a glass of ice water.
Today at lunch he wanted to know what kind of chips were on the counter. The impulsiveness means that he couldn't just ask. He had to touch it and lift it up. And the doppiness or lack of concentration means that the bag ended up on the floor, chips spilling everywhere. This was followed by a half-eaten strawberry that was dropped on his Oma's beige carpet and a bowl of m&m's that went tumbling off of the table because he can't sit in his seat without wiggling around.
This is another one of those places where I'm stuck. I'm trying to figure out how to curb the impulsiveness without destroying the inquisitiveness. I want him to be curious about things and to explore. I just wish he could do it without leaving a trail of destruction behind him.

photo from:  www.come-over.to -  

dinner fail

I like to try new things for dinner. I guess it would be easier to just have the same thing but I like to cook and I like to experiment with new recipes. So while I do have my staples, I also like to try something new at least one night a week, if not more. Most of the time, it pays off and we have a new dinner to add to the recipe book. Sometimes though it doesn't go well at all.
Last night was one of those nights. I decided to try a new recipe from one of my go-to recipe sites. It called for 2 cups of fresh Parmesan cheese. Normally, I would just throw in the generic stuff, because $6 for a wedge of cheese is a little salty for me. But I wanted to stick to the recipe, especially on the first try so I asked Sam to pick up some real Parmesan for me.
My first clue to the possibility that dinner might not be a hit came while I was shredding the cheese. I don't know what is done to the generic, shake-it-out-of-the-jar stuff but real Parmesan is kind of, well, stinky. If you don't believe me, just ask Truett. He came into the kitchen after I was finished grating and demanded to know what the horrible smell was. "Ugh! Mom! Ugh! What is that?! Ewww!!" And he doubled over with his hands over his nose and ran from the room.
That was followed by Sam coming home from work and asking me what the smell was. I told him it was the cheese and he responded with, "Oh, I thought maybe somebody threw up today." And the sad part was that he was right. It did smell like that. And our dinner was covered in it.
Thankfully, it didn't taste like it smelled. There was still a bite from the cheese but nothing compared to the smell. The one silver lining to the whole thing was that the boys came into the kitchen for dinner, took one smell, and ran off. And for once, Sam and I didn't call them back. We just sat down and enjoyed a quiet dinner by ourselves. The boys eventually returned and each ate three bites (Jem cried the entire time and gagged it down with water) and then had a bowl of cereal. I guess fresh Parmesan is an acquired taste, one that we aren't ready for yet.

i'm the best

Over the past few days, Jem has experienced a surge in confidence. It started out with his lego- building skills. And this morning, while we were coloring at the table, it progressed to include coloring, playing computer games, and cutting things out. In Jem's own words, "I'm the best at all of that stuff."
So now I'm in this quandary of how to handle this. I want my kids to be confident. I want them to have some pride in the things that they work hard for and achieve. But confidence can so easily tip over into arrogance and I definitely don't want that. How do I teach my kids to be confident, to acknowledge their abilities, without bragging or being prideful?
One option could be telling him that he really isn't the best at all of those things but that didn't seem like the way to go. Instead, I tried to temper his bragging in two ways. First, I asked him if he could name some things that Truett was really good at. I thought that thinking of other people's gifts might help take the self-love down a little bit. He wasn't able to come up with anything that Tru was good at. Not surprising.
So then I thought I would ask him to name a few things that he wasn't as good at, things that maybe he needed to work on or practice some more. I was thinking of actual activities, like swinging a bat at a ball or recognizing sight words. He thought I was asking about behavioral things and told me that he could work on being a better listener. (Right answer, wrong time)
Eventually, I just let it go and reminded both boys to only say things that they would want someone to say to them. If it continues, then I guess we will have to have a chat about bragging. Until then, I will just have to hope that he only feels confident enough to say stuff like that at home.

sunday school according to Jem

It is Monday, which means it is time for the next installment of Sunday School According to Jem. Enjoy!

Me: So Jem, what did you learn about today in Sunday School?
Jem: Um...I don't know.
Truett: Let me tell you Mom. There was a guy with legs that didn't work. He couldn't dance or jump a rope.
Jem: Oh yeah. And he went to this church place and asked people for money. Sometimes they gave him some and sometimes they didn't. And Jesus' really good helpers walked by him and they didn't give him any money but they said that he should talk to Jesus.
Sam: So what did Jesus do?
Jem: He gave him a new set of legs!
Tru: He healed him!
Jem: Yeah, Jesus made the legs and put them on the kid and then he could do everything. He could dance, jump rope and bounce up and down. See? I made my guy with bouncy legs. And a sunburn.

he wants to be an artist

On Tuesday, as Jem and I were heading into the playroom, he said, "Maybe I'll be an artist when I grow up Mommy." I replied by telling him that sounded like a great idea and we continued on with our play.
However...inside I was not all about the artist thing. It was like some old woman had risen up in me shouting all sorts of things like:
~that's a hobby, not a career

~you'd better have a back-up plan

~I hope you don't think you're living here when you're in your thirties

~wouldn't you like to be something steady and dependable, like an accountant

~hippie!

Thankfully, I was able to wrangle the old gal and keep quiet. Yes, I know the practical difficulties of being an artist. There are a lot of career paths out there that come with difficulty and don't really lend themselves to finding steady employment. But I also know that there are a lot of years between now and the time when Jem needs to worry about supporting himself. A lot of years before he will decide a career path. So the logical, pessimistic arguments can wait. For now, I can let my boy dream.

i'll show you

This morning at breakfast, Truett decided that he wanted to sit at our little, two-seater cafe table with me and leave Jem alone at the bar. Jem, of course, didn't like the idea of eating by himself, even though we were all still in the same room. So to avoid a meltdown by either one, I explained to them that Tru could eat at the table for breakfast and then Jem could eat at the table during lunch time. And I explained that I didn't want to have any whining or arguing about it. This was mostly directed at Tru and he knew it. He looked up from his oatmeal and said, "I'm going to sit down at the bar for lunch and I'm not going to cry and I'm going to listen to you." Pretty cool, right? Except for the fact that he said it in a threatening tone with his eyebrows lowered and his shoulders hunched. It is the same tone and posture that he uses when he is threatening to throw something. It was a weird moment to realize that he was threatening me with good behavior. Almost as if he was trying to defy me to believe that he could ever be angry or misbehave.
I looked at him and asked, "Are you threatening me with good behavior", to which he calmly replied, "Yes. I am".

a big bowl of awful

One of my challenges this month is eating better. I met with a nutritionist at the beginning of the month to help get me started on the right track. I'm doing my best to stick to my approved foods but it hasn't been super easy.
One of my approved snacks is a serving of plain greek yogurt with some added fruit. I decided to give it a shot today during my morning snack time. Jem sat down at the bar with his bowl of normal, flavored yogurt and I sat down with  my bowl of plain greek yogurt with some banana slices in it. It looked suspiciously like sour cream and I said so jokingly to Jem. Then I tasted it and realized the resemblance to sour cream didn't just start and stop with appearance. I looked at the container and compared it to my container of sour cream. Do you know what the difference is? Active yogurt cultures. That's it. And let me tell you, those active yogurt cultures do not alter the taste. Yuck! Maybe it is because I am used to yogurt that tastes like peaches or strawberries. Maybe it is because I file yogurt under "sweet snacks" in my brain. Maybe it is because I don't want to eat a bowl of something that I could top a baked potato with. Whatever the reason, I am not into plain yogurt. I had to add some honey to it just to get it down and I'm sure that is not on my approved list of foods. Oh well. I bet I can use it in place of sour cream to make sour cream pancakes. And those get covered with butter and warm, syrupy syrup. Yum! Also not on my approved list of foods. But at least I'm eating my yogurt, right? Right?!

it's sleepy time, right?

I have a feeling that tonight might be a rough night. I've decided that I finally need to crack down on Truett's sleeping habits, or non-sleeping habits. He struggles to stay in his bed. And when he does manage to stay in his bed, he is yelling for us on a consistent basis for about an hour after we've laid him down. It might be to tell us that he needs to use the potty, even though he went right before bed. Or it could be that his water cup is empty or his blanket isn't covering his feet. Last night he needed a band-aid on a scratch that had already scabbed over. That was the first time. The second time he told Sam that his pillow was too itchy. Last week he called me up because he couldn't get his zip-up pajamas back on. He had taken them off to scratch his back. He will wake me up in the middle of the night to tell me that his nose is dry or scream down during nap time to ask me if I will wake him up before it gets dark.
It is constant and unpleasant. And every time he yells we go into his room because we don't want him to wake up the other two. But it has to end and tonight is the start. Ugh. This is going to be bad. But it is my own fault and now I have to deal with it. Bedtime issues are the worst! I completely understand how parents end up sleeping in their childrens' beds instead of their own. By the time the day is done, all you want is a little time to relax and unwind before you go to bed and get up to start the next day. Fighting with a preschooler at 9:30pm is not a good way to relax and unwind and the easy way out looks so tempting and, well, easy. We never actually progressed to sleeping in their rooms or beds but we still managed to get ourselves into this predicament. It's a slippery slope and it is going to be a hard climb back to the top. I'm tired already. :(

photo from:  parentingscience.com

sunday school according to Jem

I'm starting to think that I might need to create a new post series based around Jem's interpretation of Sunday school. Today's conversation about church went as follows:

Sam: What did you learn about today in church?
Jem: There was a lady who came over to visit and she cleaned Jesus' feet and then they smelled awesome!
Me: Why did she do that?
Jem: She was doing something nice. Can you turn Kung Fu Panda back on now?

Hope you have an "awesome" day!

photo from:  axlching.wordpress.com
changes by me

sometimes it comes down to a shoe

If you ever want to see me lose my cool, just come over to my house before preschool and hide one of my kid's shoes. I mean, wow. It's epic.
I woke up this morning feeling pretty good about the day. We had breakfast and everyone was doing good. And then it was time to get shoes and coats on and suddenly Jem's right shoe is nowhere to be found. I should probably clarify a little bit and say that my kids only have one pair of shoes each. They do have sneakers that are too small for them that we use for muddy play and snow boots for snow days. But as far as regular, every day shoes go, one pair is all we've got. I should also say that, since moving to our new house, I haven't been as strict with making sure the shoes get put into the right place when they are taken off. So we occasionally run into the problem of not being able to find shoes.
And I'm not sure how it is in your house but my kids' definition of "looking for something" is to stand in one spot and turn in a half-circle before throwing themselves on the floor and yelling that they can't find it. Heaven forbid they look behind a door or lift up a blanket or look under the bed. So I'm the one who is running around the house trying to find the shoe.
This morning the shoe was behind the bedroom door and by the time I found it we were already late to school. I misplaced my purse during the search and had to retrace my steps to find it. It was an unhappy crew that finally climbed into the car this morning. And all because of a shoe.

the day the cleaning died

When I was a young girl I enjoyed cleaning. Especially the bathroom. My mom must have thought she had died and gone to heaven. I just loved the way you could make everything look new and shiny.
And then, one tragic day, my love of cleaning died. Actually it was killed by my dad. When I was growing up he was the manager of a feed mill. Feed mills are dusty, dirty places and his office was no exception. He and his co-worker would tromp in after spending hours fixing an auger or unloading a rail car and the dust and dirt would trail in after them. I spent a lot of time there over the summer and one day I took it into my head to clean the place up. I even convinced my dad to pay me for my effort. And let me tell you I earned that money. I scrubbed and swept and organized and swept again and it had never looked better. I was so proud of my work. But the next day, I came back in to discover that it looked like I had done nothing at all. My dad had managed to undo everything that I had done in less than 24 hours time. And that is the day that my inner cleaner died.
I no longer find joy in a shiny bathroom faucet because I know that someone will "accidentally" spit toothpaste onto it that same day. Organization holds no thrill because my little ones refuse to get on board. Why make the bed? I'm just going to get back into it. I never even went through the nesting phase during pregnancy. Sam kept waiting for it and it just didn't happen. My love of cleaning is dead. Thanks a lot Dad.

photo from:  themodelife.com

he went with B

A question for you -

If your brother is singing and yelling and you want him to be quiet do you...

A. ask him nicely to please be quiet

 

B. kick him the eye

 

C. run and tell someone else that he is bothering you

I would choose option A and then go to C if that didn't work. Guess which option my dragon chose?

 

*Sigh*

stars

Day 1 with our good behavior chart was filled with plenty of eager direction following, very little complaining and a lot of respectful responses. Sometimes a complaint was uttered but the complainer quickly changed his tune when he remembered the chance to earn stars.
Day 2 was a return to our normal. I knew that the behavior chart wasn't going to be a magical cure-all but I had hoped it would last longer than one day. The novelty wore off quickly. However, I continued to look for things on that second day to praise them for.
We are now on Day 7 and we seem to have found a balance. There are less thank you's and pleases than we had on the first day. But, there are more than we had on Day 2. Today I asked Tru to go upstairs and climb into bed for his nap while I went to the laundry room and got his blanket. When I headed upstairs I found that he had actually listened to me. He wasn't lying on the stairs complaining that he was too tired to go upstairs. He wasn't running around the playroom. He wasn't playing with water in the bathroom. He was in his bed waiting for me. Following directions is one way that he can earn stars.
Dinner has also been much more pleasant lately. There have been fewer exclamations of how disgusting something looks. Eating dinner without complaining is another way to earn stars. Right now, they are behaving because they want to earn stars. They want the rewards. But whether they realize it or not, they are developing better habits. They are learning to listen and obey. They are learning to think before they speak and to be respectful.
I think though that the biggest benefit of this whole thing has been for me. I am now actively looking for and noticing good things about them. Like the way Truett is so eager to take care of Caia when she is upset. Or how good Jem is at following directions. And I can't even tell you how much nicer it is to see the good things about my kids instead of focusing on the ways they disobey or the whining and complaining. Those things are still there and I notice them and I'm still frustrated by them. But now I have the good things to help balance it out. I should have done this a long time ago. Ah, hindsight.

we learned about leprechauns

A conversation during our walk to the car after church:

Me: So Jemmy, what did you learn about today in church?

 

Jem: We learned about leprechauns. No, not leprechauns but people. And they had a lot of bandages.

 

Tru: Yeah, lots of bandages and things falling off and Jesus made them all better.

 

Me: Um...so did you maybe learn about lepers?

 

Jem: Yes! Lepers.

Happy Monday!

photo by dabidovich http://www.flickr.com/photos/dabidovich/383084070/

going at her own pace

Caia will be 15 months old tomorrow and she still isn't talking or walking. Remember, back in November when I wrote about how great she did at Thanksgiving dinner with her walker? I was so sure that walking was just around the corner. I was wrong. She stands on her own and walks from the tv to the ottoman but she prefers to crawl. I thought for sure that she would walk early, just to keep up with her brothers. But she is determined to go at her own pace.
She also isn't saying any words. She will babble once in a while. And she does blurt out "mama" but it is indiscriminate. She'll say it to me and she'll say it when she is pointing at a toy or a bowl of cheerios. When I ask her to say "mama" she just smiles at me and refuses to utter a peep.
It can be hard to not play the comparison game. There are babies younger than her who have moved on to the walker classroom at church while she is still with the crawlers. There are the other parents who claim their child can say twenty words already and started speaking at six months. And even though I know that she will talk and walk when she is ready, it can be hard to rest in that. I remember Jem's 15 month check-up when the doctor insisted that he should be saying 15 words already. He was speaking but he wasn't quite to 15 words and I left the check-up worried that something was wrong with my child. But really, he was just going at his own pace and while there might be an average age for walking and talking, it varies across the board.
Besides, there is one thing that Caia is way ahead on. The girl has growing teeth down to a science. It's like she has a mouth full of tic-tacs. As for everything else, she'll do it when she's ready I guess. Obviously her timeline doesn't match up with mine so I'll just wait patiently and smile and nod when someone else talks about their advanced baby. And then I will show them all of her teeth and brag about her advanced gums.

which show?

Today, when it was time to watch shows, the boys had a disagreement. Truett wanted to watch a Scooby Doo dvd and Jem wanted to watch one of the shows I had dvr'd that morning. I thought I would create some space for one of them to serve the other rather than asking for what they wanted. It seemed like the perfect opportunity for someone to earn a star on their good behavior chart while they learned about putting others first. So I said, "One of you will need to say that it is okay to watch the other show instead." They looked at me for a few seconds and then Jem said, "Mommy, it's okay if we watch the other show instead of Scooby Doo." Obviously, I wasn't clear in my explanation so I tried again. This time I told them that one of them could be a big boy and let the other person watch what they wanted. Truett took a crack at it saying, "I am a big boy and I want to watch Scooby Doo." I stood there staring at them, willing one of them to decide that they could give up their idea and put the other person's wishes first and thinking that I should have just decided on my own. But sometimes it is hard to make a decision like that without someone crying "unfair" and I start to question if one of them will feel unloved and slighted and talk about it in therapy as an adult. But before I hit the 20 second mark in my time of waiting, the veins in Tru's neck started popping. He squeezed his water bottle until his knuckles turned white and then threw it in anger. Problem solved. We watched Jem's show.

lesson from a terrible workout

I haven't slept well the past few nights. I was anticipating the start of a new workout program and the worry and fear kept me tossing and turning. Worry that I wouldn't be able to do it and would have wasted my money and my time. And fear that I would give it my all and nothing would change.
Well, I finally started it today. And it was as awful as I thought it would be! It probably doesn't help that I'm not one of those people who enjoys working out. I like how I feel after I've worked out and I like how I feel when I'm in shape, but I hate the actual process of working out. It's just so exhausting. And now my legs hurt when I walk up and down the stairs and who wants that? I wanted to say something unpleasant to the man on the screen who kept telling me that I could go faster and that I should dig deeper. But I couldn't speak. I was too busy gasping for air like a fish lying on the bottom of a boat. Instead, I contented myself with thinking bad thoughts about him and the people who were on the video with him. People with six-packs and well-toned muscles in their arms and legs. People who were smiling and acting as though this was the best forty minutes of their lives. Like I said, not all that into working out.
However, I realized something as I was sitting on my couch gulping water in between my gasps for air. The worry and the fear don't help me make it through my workout. All they do is set me up to go into it already scared, already doubting my ability. Life tends to meet my expectations. And I'm not talking about an expectation to win the lottery and be wealthy. I'm talking about the attitude that I approach things with. If I go into it thinking that it is going to be awful, well it will probably be awful. If I go into it thinking that it will be awesome, it might not be awesome (it is a workout after all) but it won't be terrible. It will be challenging and possibly rewarding. Plus, there isn't space for me to be thankful that I'm able to move my body, able to do push-ups and squats and all sorts of things, when I'm only focused on how much I wish I didn't have to do those things. Gratitude gets squeezed out when I focus on the negative. And that applies to all areas of my life, including my workout.

photo from: cafepress.com

glimpse

This past Friday, Sam and I went to see Les Miserables. We had made plans to go out to dinner with another couple but they had to cancel at the last minute due to illness. We didn't want to cancel with our sitter so we decided to go to the movies while the kids stayed home.
The next morning, I was sitting at the computer figuring out the menu and grocery list for the coming week. Jem wandered downstairs, said good morning to me and went in and sat at the bar in the kitchen with his leap pad. We were both absorbed in doing our own thing and then Jem says to me, "Mommy, did you enjoy your movie last night? And what did you see?"
It was a small thing but, at the same time, it wasn't small at all. With those two questions Jem showed me that he had paid attention to where I had gone the night before. He also showed that he was interested in knowing how my time was, that he cared about my evening. It was this beautiful moment of having my child treat me like a real person with feelings and value.
And maybe you are reading this and thinking that I'm blowing this out of proportion. But let me add that two nights previously, I had spent some time struggling with how I often feel disrespected, under appreciated and devalued. I'm living with two preschoolers and a baby. There isn't a lot of "Oh Mom you're so wonderful! What would we ever do without you?" going around. It isn't even about the recognition. It is more about despairing that I've somehow messed up and missed the part of parenting where I teach my children how to treat other people with kindness and respect. And I know that this is a stage of life and that most of this has to do with their age, but that doesn't always make it easier to handle. I spent that evening letting God know that I was struggling and that He could jump in at any time.  He didn't change my children or me. Instead, through Jem's question, He gave me a glimpse into how wonderful it is to feel valued and seen by your children. And really, that is all I need. To just catch a glimpse every once in a while as a reminder of what I'm working so hard for. 

photo from: bunchofpants  http://www.flickr.com/photos/bunchofpants/6971626/

conundrum

If you are faced with the dilemma of allowing your child to enter a social setting with food from breakfast still stuck on his face or licking your thumb and using it to wipe said food off, which do you choose? On the one hand, your child will spend the morning looking dirty. The teacher will think that you don't even care enough to wipe your child's face off. She'll add that up with the uncombed hair and the pants that are too short and tell herself to keep an eye on the situation. 
On the other hand, wiping saliva on your child's face is gross. His face might appear cleaner but really you've just replaced the crumbs of food with slimy bacteria. It's truly a conundrum. 
This morning I went for option two. I was unbuckling Tru's buckle and realized that he had blueberry juice on the corner of his mouth. I chose for my child to look clean. Truett freaked. You would have thought I cleaned his face with a used diaper wipe. Obviously he prefers option one. I can't really blame him. I remember watching moms do it to their kids and thinking it was gross. But now I have my own kids and all bets are off.  

shifting focus

I tend to be a glass half empty kind of gal. I know, you're shocked! But it's true and it has always been that way. I'm not sure if it is a result of being a perfectionist or if it comes from being logical. Either way, I have a tendency to look at a situation and see the problems first. In some cases it can actually be a good thing. I can sit down and talk through a situation with someone and help them see places where they might need to rethink something. I can troubleshoot pretty well.
But, more often than not, it means that I tend to see life's faults before I see its blessings. And it seeps into my parenting. That is why tomorrow during nap time, when I'm sure that I won't be interrupted, I am going to finally sit down and make those good behavior charts for my boys. They have been on my "to do" list for months and I just never seem to get around to them. But I realized tonight that I tend to focus more on the behaviors that I want to stop than on the ones that I want to see more of. It can be hard to provide structure and rules for your kids but also keep life fun and enjoyable. I believe in the structure and the rules. I believe that they need to be accountable for their choices and their attitudes. But I also believe that my kids have good hearts and a desire to do what is right. Maybe they just need a little motivation to help them on their way. And maybe I need motivation to shift my focus to the good. It's either that or putting in a few calls to daycare centers.  

a little wisdom, Dowager style

"Sir Richard, life is a game in which the player must appear ridiculous."

I am open to admitting that watching television is not the best use of my time. I dislike the way our culture fixates on movie and television stars. How dinner conversations revolve around the imaginary lives of people who don't exist. Or, even worse, the lives of reality stars who live such ridiculous lives that they might as well be imaginary.
However, I can also admit that there are times when I see or hear something on television that challenges me, inspires me, or moves me.
I was a little bit late to the Downton Abbey scene. I missed the first season and have been playing catch-up ever since. I find the lives of the characters to be fascinating and enjoyable to watch. And today, while I snuck in the last episode of season two, the Dowager Countess offered the above bit of wisdom. It made me think about how much time and effort I can put in to not appearing ridiculous. The idea of a game of charades, around which this comment was based, makes me feel all nervous. Suppose I got a word that I couldn't figure out how to act out?
What about that awful moment when you trip on your way up to a stage. Heaven forbid you walk into a door or spill your drink. And those are just the small things. What happens when you are fired from a job or your marriage falls apart? How ridiculous do you appear when one of your children makes a huge, life-altering mistake?
There is no way around it. Life will make all of us ridiculous at some point. If you have never been ridiculous then you haven't been living. Life means making mistakes and falling down and being disappointed. It also means finding joy in the small things, continuing to dream, and learning to let go. I can't say that I have a desire to be ridiculous but it would seem that I don't really have a choice. It is part of life. And I would rather live life and accept being ridiculous than waste my time trying to prove to people that I'm perfect when they can already see that I'm not. Especially when most everyone else is usually too busy trying to do the same to even notice my ridiculousness.

photo from: thekarmickitchen.blogspot.com

the warning trap

Yesterday, Truett scooted into the kitchen riding on Caia's new riding/walking toy. I was standing at the stove when he came in and he smiled at me when I looked over. I turned towards him to say, "Tru, you need to get off of that. I've told you several times already that you aren't allowed to ride her toy." My boys tend to be rough with toys and I didn't want them breaking it. Besides, they have bikes to ride on and plenty of other things to play with. But as I thought about what I was going to say, I realized that I really had told him several times that he wasn't allowed to ride it. So instead of repeating myself, I walked over, picked him up, and buckled him into the chair. As I was buckling him in he yelled, "I didn't do anything!" For a moment, he had me wondering. Could it be possible that he didn't know that he had been doing something wrong? Was it wrong of me to strap him in without an explanation? And then I came to my senses and walked back into the kitchen.
When I went back in to get Tru, I knelt down in front of him and said, "What did you do Tru?" And he responded by telling me that he had ridden Caia's toy and that he knew it was wrong.
More often than I would like to admit, I give Truett reminders about behavior rather than just correcting it through discipline. It is a bad habit and it sort of snuck up on me. He will receive a warning, just like the one I was prepared to give. If he doesn't listen after that warning, then he ends up in his chair or he gets a penny in his jar or loses a privilege. So I do a good job of following through on my warnings. But the problem is that I give him too many warnings to begin with. A warning should be for a new behavior. He is old enough now that he doesn't need me to remind him not to ride on Caia's toy or not to throw books or not to spit on the floor. He knows what is acceptable and what isn't. And he is the type that if you give him an inch he takes a mile. So I explained to him that the warnings are going to stop. I'm expecting to hear many more cries of "I didn't do anything wrong!", followed by him admitting to what he did. It will be interesting to see if this is a habit I can break and, in so doing, help him along the way.

experiment

By the time this post is published it will be 2013. A brand new year full of possibilities. Time to begin resolving to break some bad habits or maybe start a few new good habits. 
I don't know about everyone else, but I struggle to keep my resolutions. Actually, the only one that I was ever successful at was my resolution to start flossing my teeth on a daily basis. (Yes, I wasn't a daily flosser and I'm gross and so on and so on.) Resolutions tend to be big and daunting. I start out with great intentions. I'm going to eat healthier and exercise. I'm going to do more volunteer work. I'm going to be a more positive person. But the year is sooooo long and most of my resolutions have fizzled out before the end of the first month.
A few years ago though, I was introduced to the idea of experiments rather than resolutions. The idea is to take each month and try a different experiment. So instead of 365 days you end up with 31, at the longest. Much less daunting.
I took the idea and ran with it. I wouldn't say I did anything earth-shattering, but I learned some new skills, I challenged myself and I felt like I accomplished something. I don't remember every month but I know that I spent one month:

 

-eating vegetarian (got some great recipes out of that one)

-waking up early every day to have my quiet time (that one stuck!)

-learning how to sew, sort of (took a class and did a few projects)

-reading only non-fiction books

-challenging myself to be more positive



 
Like I said, nothing earth-shattering. I just sat down and thought about areas of my life that I wanted to work on, things that I wanted to try, and places where I needed a little more discipline. I'm planning to try it again this year. And I just wanted to throw it out there as an alternative to those pesky resolutions. Break your year down and make each month a new challenge, something to look forward to. Oh, and may I suggest that if there is something you really need to work on but aren't looking forward to that you try it out during February. Nothing wrong with doing your least fun thing on the shortest month. That's called logic my friends. Embrace it.

photo by: spike55151  http://www.flickr.com/photos/spike55151/444102311/