Zander’s Secret

Zander recently picked up the word secret from watching an episode of Backyardigans…i think. anyway, he’s been using it as often as he can, even though he doesn’t exactly know what it means yet. which, of course, makes it that much more entertaining.

the other night we were sitting at the dinner table. Zander was done eating what was on his plate and, as usual, had dragged his chair over to sit beside daddy.

Zander: daddy! i ha’ a secret!

hubby: you have a secret? wow!

Zander: ya! Zan’er ha’ a secret!

hubby: what’s your secret, Zander?

suddenly hubby’s face twists into a look of horror.

Zander: poop!

sure enough, Zander’s diaper was full of….his secret. i was laughing my head off…of course, i wasn’t close enough to smell this secret of Zander’s…unlike my poor hubby.

*****

yesterday morning, Zander was sitting beside me on the couch. all of a sudden he jumped up to stand on the couch and stared down at me.

Zander: mommy! i ha’ a secret!

me: you do? what is it?

Zander: a secret mommy! Zan’er ha’ a secret!

me: wow, Zander! can you tell mommy what your secret is?

Zander: a snowball….WATCH OUT!

then he flopped down on the couch and rolled around laughing. silly monkey.

later that morning, i was in the kitchen playing on the floor with Logan. Zander ran in all upset.

Zander: mommy….i ha’ a poop in a diaper…and i’ not a secret!

man, this kid makes me laugh.

i’m not strong enough

oh God…i can’t do this. i’m not strong enough. i can’t watch my 2.5 year old son starve himself. i can’t keep trying things that don’t work. i can’t get my hopes up, only to have them dashed so soon after.

i’m not strong enough for this. why is this happening? i don’t understand.

we went to the parents’ group at the Children’s Hospital. we talked to other parents whose children had similar eating issues/disorders. we talked to a myriad of specialists. we thought we had to tools and information to attack this problem.

none of it helped.

we had a one-on-one session with the OT and Psychologist from the group, and we thought we heard what we needed to hear…what would help us.

we were wrong.

we now go for twice-monthly visits with his Psychologist. each time, we leave there with a new plan of attack…a new method to try….a new way of doing things. we leave with a spring in our step, and some optimism that we’ve finally found something that will work.

it never does.

i don’t know how much more of this i can take. i’ve never felt so helpless in my life. my child not only doesn’t want to eat…doesn’t like to eat. he is almost petrified of eating. he screams to get away from the table. and it’s getting worse.

he used to eat pizza like it was going out of style. now he will take his few bites, and then ask to leave the table with this fright in his voice…he needs to get away from this eating scene. the few things that he used to like to eat, he doesn’t want to eat anymore. i don’t get it.

last night we put cut-up bits of chicken fingers, corn and cauliflower on his plate. he had a sip of his water, took one look at his plate and scream “done!”. we begged and pleaded, as we always do. but he was done. not one bite, and as far as he was concerned his dinner was over. we did manage to get two teeny tiny bites of chicken into him, but we had to bribe him…he could get down from the table if he had two pieces of chicken. and we had to pretend they were Percy and Skarloey, two of his favourite engines from Thomas. even then, he was thisclose to spitting them out…we had to convince him it was okay to chew and swallow them. it was as if he thought the food was going to hurt him. a look of fear mixed with disgust was painted on his face as he painfully chewed and swallowed these minuscule bits of chicken.

after he had eaten the chicken, we let him down as promised. he ran around playing with his train and track while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. we invited Zander back to the table for dessert. yogurt…his favourite. but no, he did not want to come back to that damn table. i believe his exact words were “no way!”.

beaten down and needing our little boy to go to bed with more than 1/20th of a chicken finger (especially since he had refused his after-nap snack, meaning he hadn’t had anything to eat since lunch), we agreed to feed him yogurt on the couch while he watched TV. and when i say we agreed to feed him, i mean we spoon fed him. that’s right…we had to spoon feed yogurt to our 2.5 year old son. ’cause that’s the only way he would have anything to do with it.

with the terror of the dining table behind him and Thomas the Train suitably entertaining him, we snuck another yogurt and some puréed strawberry-banana into him. far from what a toddler should be having for dinner since most toddlers don’t eat mainly purées, but it’s better than nothing.

tonight’s dinner took almost an hour and a half, start to finish. now i could handle that if it happened every once in a while. but it doesn’t. it happens everyday. everyday. sometimes every meal.

i watch this smart, funny, beautiful, amazing little boy of ours….he’s barely eating, he won’t try to eat new things, he’s growing slowly, he’s been bouncing between 22 and 26 pounds for over a year, but never gains anymore weight….and i don’t know how to help him. and it’s killing me.

i don’t know how much longer i can do this. i want to stop trying to be strong. i want to just let myself crumble. i want to curl up into a ball and let the tears flow for however many hours or days they keep coming. i want to wallow in my feelings of uselessness and failure, my ppd and self-pity.

but i can’t. i have to be there for Zander and help him through this. i have another son who has issues of his own. and i have a husband that is going through all of this too, and who needs me there with him.

i just don’t know if i’m strong enough to do this.

i’m one hot momma

a couple of weeks ago, i was sitting down to lunch with the boys. i had worked up a sweat changing diapers, washing bottles/sippy cups, getting lunch ready and rounding up the boys. feeling like i was about to burst into flames, i unzipped my hoody and took it off, leaving me sitting there in my comfy pants and sports bra. paints a sexy picture, don’t it?

Zander: [looking at me in confusion] mommy take a sweater off!

me: yup…i took my sweater off because i’m hot.

Zander: ya! mommy hot! mommy so hot!

why thank you dear boy..i’m blushing!

he continued to say it all day, and still says it if i take a sweater of cardigan off. a great boost to my waning ego.

of course, later that day i told him he was stinky and he said “no, mommy stinky!”.

anyway…i’ve been meaning to post about it, but stuff kept coming up, and it left my mind. until today, when i got a reminder.

after getting the boys to bed for their nap, i was a little toasty, so i took my sweater off, again leaving me in my sports bra (i’m not trying to give you nightmares…really!). as i was walking through my living room, i glanced out the window to a familiar site. there was a man doing work on the roof of the school behind our house, and he was looking in at me. by the look on his face, i couldn’t tell whether he thought i was totally hot, or the complete opposite. i really don’t think i want to know the answer to that one.

you’d think i would have learned my lesson last time.

note to self (again!): close curtains!

sticky tape

hubby got up before me this morning, and went to get the boys who were awake and playing in their cribs. i could hear the boys’ squeals of excitement and “good mor’ing daddy!” as he opened their bedroom doors down the hall.
Zander: where mommy?

hubby: mommy’s still sleeping.

Zander: i go wake up mommy! in a bedroom!

i hear the sound of little Zander feet coming down the hall.

Zander: [as he enters the bedroom] hmmm…around he’e somewhere! [he peeks over the top of the mattress on hubby's side of the bed] MOMMY!

me: come over here and i’ll help you get up onto the bed (our bed is pretty high, and he’s still figuring out how to climb it safely…he’s a little daunted by the height)

i help Zander up onto the bed beside where i’m lying

Zander: mor’ing mommy! [he gives me a hug and a kiss, and then sits back up and stares at me, looking puzzled] mommy have sticky tape a nose!

i had to think about that one for a bit

me: [after remembering that i was wearing a Breath Right Strip] yup. mommy wears sticky tape on her nose when she sleeps.

Zander: ouch. mommy have booboo!

me: no, mommy doesn’t have a booboo. mommy’s nose is always stuffy, so mommy has to wear sticky tape at bedtime.

Zander: [still looking a bit worried] ya…

me: the sticky tape helps mommy sleep better!

Zander: ya! sticky tape help mommy sweep be’er!

i’ve heard it helps daddy sleep better, too.

manicures all around

every couple of days i clip the boys’ fingernails. i clip, and then i file…and i file and i file away any sharp edges and corners. and then i file some more. why? because they both have eczema and are crazy allergic to….everything…nothing…who knows. what can happen if i forget to do it on time?

This….

Logan’s leg after a night of scratching

so i do my best not to miss any manicure appointment for the boys…which is tough. not so much for Zander. he’ll actually tell me he wants his nails clipped, and is excited when i tell it’s time for a clipping.

Logan is a whole different kettle of squirmy, flailing monkey. the odd time i will be lucky…if he’s mesmerized by the TV and in a co-operative mood, he’ll sit quietly and let me clip away. but most of the time he screams and grabs at the clippers and kicks and hits and punches and tries (sometimes successfully) to wriggle and squirm from my grip. and unfortunately Logan’s eczema is the worst of the two, so his nails NEED to be clipped most often. oh, what fun!

well, tonight was one of the easy manicures for Logan. fresh from his bath, he sat quietly, snuggled in my arms while he watch Harry and His Bucket Full Of Dinosaurs…and i got the job done with absolutely no bloodshed. bonus.

why can’t it always be that easy?

Haiku Friday: two four three three

don’t know what it is
this number that Zander speaks
it just makes no sense

 

it’s always the same
two four three three…what is it?
how i wish i knew!

for months, Zander has been repeating this number….2-4-3-3. we don’t know what it is.

sometimes he says it when we are in the living room, dining room, kitchen….where ever…for no apparent reason. but most of the time, it’s when he picks up the clock in his room, or Logan’s room (they have identical clocks). he looks at the clock and says “2-4-3-3!” in this excited voice, like he’s discovered something…or he’s trying to tell us something.

i tell ya, it’s starting to get kinda creepy….is it a date? coordinates? some type of cryptic code? a message from beyond? what. is. it????? i need to know!

clothing conundrum

Logan is 17 months old, but is…sturdy…and….well, he’s got some junk in the trunk. so he wears 24 months – 3T size clothes in order to fit him properly. sometimes they fit perfectly, legs and all…sometimes not so much.

so what do you think…are these pajama pants are too long????

who are you and what have you done with my son?

despite Zander’s eating issues, iron deficiency and what-have-you, he’s a pretty easy going kid. and we have been blessed with the fact that he loves being in his crib, he loves taking his nap and loves going to bed when he’s tired. well…until last week. suddenly he dreads going to bed, whether if be nap-time or bedtime…he just ain’t havin’ it.as soon as i start doing the normal before-nap things (giving him his iron drops, changing the boys diapers, etc.), he starts telling me that he isn’t tired and he’s not going to go to sleep…just in passing. the first time he did this, i didn’t think much of it. after all, the kid likes to flex his vocabularic muscles…a lot.

but then, when i said “time for nap!” and opened the gate at the bottom of the stairs, instead of racing his little brother to get to the stairs first, he started screaming. i couldn’t get him to calm down, so i told him i was going to put Logan to bed first and left him downstairs. when i closed the door to Logan’s room and turned around, Zander was standing at the top of the stairs. as soon as he saw me he started crying again.

it took me 20 minutes to get it out of him that he wanted to go back downstairs and play. i assured him that there would be plenty more playtime when got up from his nap, even listing all the different possibilities for the afternoon.

i finally got him settled. unfortunately this now happens everyday before both his nap and bedtime. fun fun fun!

i’ve wondered whether he could be weaning himself from his nap, but i don’t think that’s it. even with the fight he puts up, he’s normally asleep within 10 minutes and sleeps for a couple of hours. me thinks he’s just getting so busy with his newfound love for pretend-play and craft time that he just doesn’t want to miss out. at least i hope that’s it….i’m not ready to give up nap-time!

everybody loves mormor

my mom came up yesterday to stay with us for the weekend. she rocks….know why? ’cause she came up mainly to babysit for us so that we could go out tomorrow night. see, i told her that we made plans with some friends, and she drove 2.5 hours to Ottawa so that she could watch the monkeys whilst we have some much-needed adult fun. (wait…did that sound kinda dirty?)

the boys adore their mormor (Danish for grandmother…specifically mother’s mother). when she comes through the door, the both go running/crawling. it’s so much fun to see them playing with her…since she lives so far away, it’s a big deal when they see her.

i told Zander last week that mormor would be coming soon to visit. this is the conversation i had with him the next day when i went to get him out of bed in the morning.

me: Morning Zander!

Zander: Mor’ing mummy! [he paused] Mormor! Mormor!

me: No sweetheart, mormor isn’t here right now.

Zander: Soon!

me: Yup! She’s coming to see us soon!

Zander: Mormor make a hat!

me: [trying hard to stiffle my laughter] Yes, Zander…she’ll make you a hat!

now that’s a good memory…my mom was knitting hats to sell last time she was here to visit, and she had promised to make one for him. i guess he’s stored that little nugget in his cute little head for over a month waiting for this hat she promised him!

so she made sure to bring her supplies, and has been knitting hats for the boys…so cute.

how’s that…she comes all that way up here to offer he babysitting services (free, of course!), and she knits us all hats to boot!

yes sir…my mom rocks!

the boys “helping” mormor knit a hat

a break in the silence

i’ve been sitting here trying to catch up on my blog reading, when really i should be in bed getting some much needed shut-eye. priorities, people!

the thing is, it’s easier to read my favourite blogs when all is quiet and there are no little guys interrupting me ever 2 seconds…”mommy? mom? mum? mummy? MOMMY?”…ya, you know how it goes.

anyway, all is quiet in the house when i hear a familiar rumbling. and this familiar rumbling, that is coming from the monitor, makes me smile.

this break in the silence? it’s Logan tooting. actually, i can’t really call it something cute like “tooting”…he sounds like a 300 hundred pound trucker letting one fly! he’s a farter…a farting toddler. Zander toots…Logan farts.

this happens almost every night…and it always makes me smile. ’cause he’s my farting toddler….my Logie.