Peanut butter is a revelation: We’re a little late to the PB party, but a friend mentioned that her toddler was eating peanut butter from a spoon just like she did. So I tried it, and he loves it! I finally have a healthy snack at the ready. Side learning: No peanut butter in the living room.
No more coffee shops: I’m not sure this is me learning or actually not learning! Cafés are officially off limits for Theo and me – really I mean it. It was confirmed yet again as I chased him all over The OutPost Café, removed him five times from the kitchen and then from the bathroom. I pulled him off the table rescuing the salt and pepper, watched him shriek his way back and forth across the shop, and later, hit a little girl in the face – all in under half an hour.
It will end in tears: Theo is a social toddler, and adults are often misled by his sunny demeanour. When I warn them that he tackles (disguised as a hug), hits and bites, they routinely say “it’s fine” or indicate that it won’t bother their child (who has older siblings or is very tough). So what did I learn? You heard it here first: I will no longer listen to parents who think they’re child will be okay; they won’t, and it will end in tears.
February flies by: I know it’s a short month, but seriously, what happened? Where did it go?
Sleep has become a cliché: The other night, bedtime began with Theo in his crib and Mark and I in our bed. When Theo started screaming in the middle of the night, I went to his room, took him out of his crib and lay down on the tiny, narrow, uncomfortable cot in his room while and Mark slept alone in the double bed. Soon Mark and Theo were in the double bed, and I was alone on the cot. Then all three of us were in the double bed. Then Mark was in the cot, and Theo and I were in the double bed.
There’s nothing quite like bacon: It hits the pan, and Theo goes crazy!
Think before you shoot: Recently, at yet another ill-advised café visit, a mother would not stop taking photos of Theo. She took photos of him across the café, and later when he ran over, she took more photos, and then wanted one with him and her daughter. I kept trying to be cool about it as Theo has posed for ads and has his face all over facebook and my blog. Later I realized how bothered I was. First off, I didn’t know her at all, and she didn’t actually ask me. Then I thought WHY is she taking his photo? I think it was because he’s cute and he’s black, which makes him a rarity in Vancouver. And because I’m white, she felt comfortable doing it. Would she have taken his photo if I were the same race as him? Would she have taken his photo if he were cute and white? I don’t think so.
Quiet time does wonders: The other day, I dragged a screaming, flailing, amped up yet exhausted Theo away from an afternoon with the three kids, 7, 5 and 3, downstairs (AKA his heroes). I lay him in his crib with a small Sippy cup of milk, turned down the lights and lay down on the cot. He sang and babbled, and I just dozed for about half an hour. We both got up refreshed and happy, and he ate an enormous dinner.
This is part of Amber Strocel’s monthly review linkup.
What did you learn this past month?