Social Training

The Bubs spent the day with Ms Gayle today. Ms Gayle watches a handful of kids for a couple of the professors at the college. She lives about one mile away and everyone who knows her, raves about her. Ms Gayle has a structured day for the kids that come over to her home. They learn the days of the week and even do projects together. We have the Bubs going over to her house a couple days per week. It's a great opportunity for him. Spending all day, every day with me is ok but getting him around other two-year olds and another trust-worthy adult is key. The Bub's mom and I already see a change in his behavior tonight... just after one day there. We can tell that he learned a lot about the world today. We can see the wheels turning in his head as he walks through the house after returning from Ms Gayle's. He knows every nook and cranny of this place after spending more than one year here every day. He seems to have a new appreciation for his digs. It's nice to see. Refreshing really.

For one reason or another, I grew up believing that sending your kid to a daycare was a deficit. I was raised at home and never set foot in a daycare. In fact, I never went to pre school either. On top of that, I started Kindergarten just two weeks after my fifth birthday. Talk about stacking the deck against a kid as I was basically tossed into a new world of structure and order at 5 years old. I no longer think that sending your kid to daycare is a "deficit." I now see it as a must-do for all kids in order to prepare them properly for the system that awaits them, a.k.a. the public school system. Let's just say that my story supports sending your kid to daycare. ;)

Why did I used to think that daycare was a negative in a toddler's life?Perhaps I was simply stereotyping that all daycares to be the same? Maybe it was because of the horror stories I learned about from the media and my family? I don't know. However, there were a few members of my family who were (and likely still are) big proponents of keeping your kids at home.  I enjoy no longer being on one side or the other. It's nice to take a little from both sides. The important thing is that the Bub's mom and I are on the same page and believe that a little of both (home and daycare) are very good for our little guy.

Maybe it's not too late for me. Perhaps I can locate a daycare center where adults can go. I'm just looking for somewhere that I can hang around with other people my age and and explore my surroundings. A place where someone tells when it is time to eat lunch and tells me when to take a nap. Hmmm... come to think of it, I think there are institutions like that out there. I think I'd like to stay at home actually.

Time Outs

One moment is full of fun, laughter and many times absurdity, then the next is a "time out." A time out. A lonely seat set apart from where the fun had just transpired. I tell the Bubs that his "time out" stair/seat is a place where he can regain his inner peace, his balance and his focus... lol... I don't think he is "buying" my reasoning just yet, but at least he sits and waits until time is up. He may throw another tantrum while in a "time out," not realizing that it was a tantrum that earned him a "time out" in the first place, but he'll learn that it is a place where he can change his behavior. He's only two years old right now. There's lots of time to absorb more information. Sometimes he acts indifferent during his one-minute sentences and at other times he acts like we just gave him two life sentences. These time outs are new to me too.

I never was given a time out when I was younger. I was probably smacked, but never given a time out. While inside the supermarket (the Vernon A&P) one day, I remember my mom threatening to, "... pull (my) pants down and spank me in front of all these people." That was a real threat and I wanted no part of it. I stopped my negative behavior instantly. I was never a victim of physical abuse (mental abuse perhaps, but that's another blog) and do not want to paint a picture that I suffered any physical abuse. This is not the case. It just seemed to be the way kids were disciplined at the time - the 70's. Many of my friends/peers have the same stories. Today we serve children time outs and no smacking. I didn't even think to think that it might be illegal for someone to hit me back then. Perhaps this is also why society didn't think that a toddler, standing up in the front seat of his mother's big old Pontiac (while she drove), was in any danger either. Those days were full of car-seat-less rides and plenty of candy from strangers as we trick-or-treated until the wee hours on every Halloween night. Either there were not as many pedophiles back then or we just weren't aware of them (as we are today thanks to the increased media).

Anyway, I'm not sure what world the Bubs will be living in. It is overwhelming to imagine this kid any older than he is. I think I need a "time out" now. Move over Bubs...

Frustration

The Bubs loves his trains. Whether they are Thomas trains or Doug & Melissa trains or some cheaper knock off brand, he spends most of his time rolling them back and forth. Most of these trains connect via magnets. The connect and pull apart easily. They are perfect for a two-year old. However, these trains can also repel each other if two like poles are matched up. The Bubs doesn't understand this and that misunderstanding turns into frustration and even sometimes two-year-old tantrums. I've tried to show the Bubs how to simply turn one of the train cars around and reconnect if it repels at first try, but he just cries out and swipes the train cars to the side. He's got a temper.

I think he gets that from his mom. I say that because she is next to me reading this as I write. There... she's left me alone now. ;)  The Bub's mom and me want to make sure that we're helping him deal with his frustrations in a healthy way and we found a book called, "1, 2, 3... Magic." It's very helpful. I didn't realize that temper tantrums can be "counted." The Bubs is already hip to our new jive and things seem to be rolling along for now. It is a lot easier to start counting, "That's one. That's two...," versus nagging the little guy to stop conducting his negative behavior, i.e. temper tantrum. I think that it shows a confident and competent parent who has self control and the ability to handle/manage the situation. This goes a long way when trying to send messages to the Bubs. 

Winter Gloves

The Bubs and I headed out for a walk during a recent "blizzard." The wind was whipping and the snow was coming down sideways. The walk lasted for only about 30 minutes before we had to head back indoors. This is mainly because the Bubs decided to remove his gloves and not put them back on. This created a problem since it was bitter cold and I couldn't figure out a way to keep his gloves on him. I guess this is how it goes with a two-year old. Then our neighbors told me how they keep the gloves on their two-year old. They said that in order for their little guy to keep his gloves on, they make it a big deal for he to wear them. They talk up about how cold it is outside and then they pull out the gloves and say, "ooohhh, got to put on your gloves before going outside in that cold!" It apparently works too. Hell,  I'm willing to try it since it seems silly to spend 20 minutes getting the Bubs suited up to go outdoors and then only spending a half-hour out there.

As a kid, I can't remember if gloves were ever an issue with me. It seems that I always wanted to wear them since they made my hands feel warm.  I don't remember my mother, father or brother ever dealing with a glove issue either. I remember having many pairs of gloves in our closets. Gloves galore. On a few occasions my brother, who is seven years my elder, would pull out a couple pairs of thick snow mittens and make me box him when our parents went out for the evening. Those evenings usually ended up with me on the floor crying after receiving a stiff jab or a right hook. He would plead with me to stop crying before mom and dad came home by bribing me with pudding or some other dessert. These boxing matches likely helped me understand the importance of keeping my gloves on.

Perhaps I'm putting too much pressure on the Bubs when insisting that he understand the logic, at two years of age, of wearing gloves in the cold weather. Maybe toddlers are not meant to spend more than 30 minutes outdoors in cold weather. Or maybe he doesn't like the particular pair of gloves that I am requesting him to wear. If this problem continues into the Bub's elementary-school years, then maybe I should ask his uncle (a.k.a. my brother) to babysit the Bub's one night when my wife and I go out for an evening. If I see left over dishes of pudding when I return, then I'll know that it's a good chance that the Bubs will keep his gloves on for now on. 

Shoveling

 

This was the Bub's first "official" snowfall. Since these three pictures (from just two days ago), we've already had nearly 24" of more snow fall on us. That just added to the Bub's fun. We (or I) shoveled "pathways" from the doors to the edge of the back yard and around to the driveway in the front... not to mention the entire driveway-to-the-road too. The Bubs gets to avoid having to do all this shoveling, because... well... he's two years old. However, I'm thinking that next year's snow may also bring with it the Bub's first snow shovel. So, until then, I will shovel. I have shoveling experience.

During my periodic stays with my father as a high school student (I went to four different high schools), I was in charge of shoveling the driveways. I was appointed unanimously by the "board of directors," a.k.a. my pops. In fact, he tended to act like a "board of directors" on many other decisions too (just without the diplomacy). I say this in memory of the few occasions where I missed "angling" the transition between the driveway and the road when shoveling my pop's driveways. My pops would get upset if I shoveled straight out without angling at the two corners, because then he would have to back straight out versus being able to "cut the wheel" while still in the driveway. I noticed that my friends didn't have to "angle" their driveways when they shoveled and began to think that my pops was being too anal. However, I couldn't tell him this since he had "shoveled (his) share of driveways" and knew better than me.

I hope to not repeat history and pass onto the Bubs some of my pop's limited reasoning, but I did angle the driveway when I shoveled it just recently. ;)

The Binky

The time has come to consider tossing the crutch. The Bub's mom and I rec'd some advice on how to gradually reduce his use of the binky:

Keep the binky in the crib. It was suggested that we simply let the Bubs know that the binky now "lives" in the crib and has to stay there. It will always be there for when he sleeps, but it cannot leave the crib. If he resists, then he can stay in the crib with it. However, at some point he'll choose to want out and leave it willingly.

I guess it may be natural for many people to receive good advice, but tweak it just a bit to call it their own. This is what I decided to do. I told the Bubs that the binky has to stay with Cookie Monster (who happens to stay in the crib all the time). I even had Cookie "chat" with the Bubs about the new rules with the binky. The upper, left-hand corner pic shows my sad attempt at forcing Cookie to let the Bubs know that his binky will be safe and sound. The Bubs didn't seem to "buy" it tho. This went on for about 10 minutes. Over and over again, Cookie Monster insisted that he would take good care of the binky while the Bubs was away from his crib. Again and again, the Bubs didn't fall for it. The persuasion turned into a battle of wills and the Bubs wore down the Cookie Monster (upper, right-hand corner picture). This is when I took over and handed down the mandate that Cookie will hold onto the Bubs binky when the Bubs was outside it. I left the binky with Cookie and took the Bubs downstairs.

I paid a heavy price. The crying never stopped. I had to take the Bubs to Home Depot to quiet him down. We stopped  at a McDonald's along the way and split a cheeseburger and fries in the parking lot. I explained the long-term consequences of the binky interfering with tongue tip movement, therefore harming his speech ability.

He just stared at me. I think he was speechless.

Here are the bub's choices tonight. we read all but the cat in the hat, which is far above his level now. however there was a note inside the front cover, which i forgot about. apparently, i first read this book to him a couple months before he was born.