Sibling rivalry has its place in families. With our siblings, we learn how to negotiate, fight, work as a team. It's with your brother or sister you figure out where that invisible line is in an argument that you don't want to cross in the real world.
It's also a huge pain in your mother's ass.
I am fairly certain I am raising a future CEO or dictator in my oldest who is determined to own every, single toy the moment his younger brother even considers playing with it. Every night I'm so glad I did not become a lawyer because the conflict management and negotiation that occurs between 6 and 8 every night is enough for my taste. Ben squeals, Jack yells "MINE!" and mom (and dad) intervenes. Five minutes later, repeat.
Tonight, while attempting to heat up my dinner (for the second time) at 7:45pm, Ben was squealing, Jack was yelling "GIMME THE BEADS BEN!!!!" and I was mediating from the next room. This went on for about 10 minutes. I'll be honest, I went purely on previous experience and assumed Jack was doing something to piss his brother off and Jack got the bulk of the blame. Okay, all of the blame.
Finally tired of the squealing and in need of some sort of peace if only for 2 minutes for me to eat my lousy dinner, I walked into the playroom to discover the err of my ways. Ben took the entire bowl of dog water, dragged it to the playroom, and then proceeded to dunk about a dozen Mardi Gras bead necklaces into the water and then fling it against the wall and patio door. Jack was attempting to STOP the flinging.
Mommy fail.
Moral of the story - not every squeal and every "STOOOOOOOOOPPPPP!!!" is the same. Also, maybe eating in peace is overrated.
Monday, May 16, 2011
Friday, March 18, 2011
burst your bubble, er...balloon
This is a two fails with one stone story for you...bribery and property damage.
Jack is potty training and for the longest time did not want to do #2 in the potty. My years of psychology suggest control, stubborness, etc. Apparently this control and stubborness only extends to the HOME potty since he is perfectly capable from christening every other toilet in the greater Columbus area (grandma, sitter's, even the YMCA nursery!). So to get him to do what we wanted, we offered an incentive.
A bribe.
Mommy fail #1 - bribing your child to get them to do what you want.
Call it incentives, enticing, negotiating, bargaining. Or call it what it is - bribing.
Take a dump, get a balloon. It's how the real world operates in one way or another, so why not start early?
Jack finally connected with the home potty (sounds like mothership or home base, but anyway). So, we're off for a balloon. Every grocery store seemed to only have sympathy or happy birthday balloons. Honestly, as a side note, who the hell gives balloons when someone dies? So sorry for your loss, here's a helium balloon? Really?
So we're off to the craft stores. We go to the Flower Factory (think BJ's Wholesale club for crafters), just Jack and I for some mommy-first born time alone. We shop, try on different goofy hats and feather boas, and then choose a Micky Mouse Happy Birthday balloon over Thomas. Wait patiently in line while trying EVERY toy in the checkout line to only find they're out of helium. If we buy the balloon, it's not blown up, and therefore is NOT part of the deal. Explaining this to a 3yo at 8:30pm on a weeknight is reinforcing the bribe portion of the story. More negotiating.
We leave to go to Party City, and the first question is "do you have helium?" After weird looks but confirmation of supply, we head to the balloon section. Good LORD the selection. Jack eyes the Pixar Cars Lighting McQueen balloon and I figure we're going to go big or go home. We get the $8.99, size of a small child balloon. Jack's so proud and I have him tell the lady why he's getting a balloon. I POOPED! I had to make the trip worth it in some way, and the cashier's reaction was priceless enough.
We get home and have the requisite, you have to share with your brother - but he didn't poop in the potty conversation, then off to bed. The next day, the balloon is sinking. By Thursday, it's on the ground. Uncool. After a few times hearing, "Mommy my balloon is broken" I decide to return to Party City with the half-deflated Cars balloon bribe and ask for a new one.
Party City was extremely accommodating and blew up a new balloon. I was so proud of my son, and now proud of myself. I was able to fix a mistake that disappointed my son. I was able to fulfill a promise and tomorrow morning when he wakes up he'll be reminded of the good job he did and continue on the potty training bandwagon.
I get home and popped the damned balloon.
First I bribe, then I pop the balloon AFTER I fixed it.
So now Party City is closed, I'm without a balloon, and I'm hoping my 3yo's attention span is as short as the life of a large, $8.99 Pixar Lighting McQueen balloon.
Mommy fail.
Jack is potty training and for the longest time did not want to do #2 in the potty. My years of psychology suggest control, stubborness, etc. Apparently this control and stubborness only extends to the HOME potty since he is perfectly capable from christening every other toilet in the greater Columbus area (grandma, sitter's, even the YMCA nursery!). So to get him to do what we wanted, we offered an incentive.
A bribe.
Mommy fail #1 - bribing your child to get them to do what you want.
Call it incentives, enticing, negotiating, bargaining. Or call it what it is - bribing.
Take a dump, get a balloon. It's how the real world operates in one way or another, so why not start early?
Jack finally connected with the home potty (sounds like mothership or home base, but anyway). So, we're off for a balloon. Every grocery store seemed to only have sympathy or happy birthday balloons. Honestly, as a side note, who the hell gives balloons when someone dies? So sorry for your loss, here's a helium balloon? Really?
So we're off to the craft stores. We go to the Flower Factory (think BJ's Wholesale club for crafters), just Jack and I for some mommy-first born time alone. We shop, try on different goofy hats and feather boas, and then choose a Micky Mouse Happy Birthday balloon over Thomas. Wait patiently in line while trying EVERY toy in the checkout line to only find they're out of helium. If we buy the balloon, it's not blown up, and therefore is NOT part of the deal. Explaining this to a 3yo at 8:30pm on a weeknight is reinforcing the bribe portion of the story. More negotiating.
We leave to go to Party City, and the first question is "do you have helium?" After weird looks but confirmation of supply, we head to the balloon section. Good LORD the selection. Jack eyes the Pixar Cars Lighting McQueen balloon and I figure we're going to go big or go home. We get the $8.99, size of a small child balloon. Jack's so proud and I have him tell the lady why he's getting a balloon. I POOPED! I had to make the trip worth it in some way, and the cashier's reaction was priceless enough.
We get home and have the requisite, you have to share with your brother - but he didn't poop in the potty conversation, then off to bed. The next day, the balloon is sinking. By Thursday, it's on the ground. Uncool. After a few times hearing, "Mommy my balloon is broken" I decide to return to Party City with the half-deflated Cars balloon bribe and ask for a new one.
Party City was extremely accommodating and blew up a new balloon. I was so proud of my son, and now proud of myself. I was able to fix a mistake that disappointed my son. I was able to fulfill a promise and tomorrow morning when he wakes up he'll be reminded of the good job he did and continue on the potty training bandwagon.
I get home and popped the damned balloon.
First I bribe, then I pop the balloon AFTER I fixed it.
So now Party City is closed, I'm without a balloon, and I'm hoping my 3yo's attention span is as short as the life of a large, $8.99 Pixar Lighting McQueen balloon.
Mommy fail.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Sign Language
Here and there we've been teaching our youngest (DOB 9/2009) a few signs to have in his vocabulary. It can't hurt, right? Besides, ASL for kids is trendy so there's lots of information out there.
I've been working on the sign for "milk" to be used interchangeably for drink. He ALMOST has it. Then I chuckled to myself remembering "Meet the Parents."
Oh crap (literally).
My sign for milk is actually the sign for poop.
For reference, here's the sign for both.
Mommy fail.
I've been working on the sign for "milk" to be used interchangeably for drink. He ALMOST has it. Then I chuckled to myself remembering "Meet the Parents."
Oh crap (literally).
My sign for milk is actually the sign for poop.
For reference, here's the sign for both.
Mommy fail.
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