Open Hearts, Open Minds

Trucks, Trucks, Trucks...the Obsession Continues

2012-02-17T13:30:00.011-05:00

One thing that's constant with a toddler is that nothing stays the same. For days, Elliot played with nothing but his teapot. Then, all of a sudden, he was over tea and focused on playing with his Little People. He wants to listen to nothing but "música salsa," for weeks, and then suddenly, only the Beatles will do.

A toddler's tastes are fickle. But for Elliot, one thing has been a constant source of amusement and fascination: trucks. If anything, Elliot's obsession with trucks of all types and sizes -- from a miniature plastic roller to the garbage truck rolling down the street-- has only deepened.

Lately, Elliot can often be found lying on his belly, slowly moving one or more toy trucks across the sofa, carpeting (or when I took my eye off him for a moment), the filthy garage floor. "Forklift picks up everything," he excitedly exclaims. "Front loader picks up dirt."

And he should know. Recently, his taste in videos has changed from Elmo and Thomas the Tank Engine to promotional videos for Volvo construction equipment and instructional videos about bulldozers and excavators set to music. (Yes, everything exists on Youtube!).

I look around our family room. If I wanted to sit down on the sofa, I'd have to move a Matchbox dump trunk, Thomas the Tank Engine and a green and red farm loader. On the floor, a "green" fire engine (made of recycled red plastic) keeps a large front end loader and a smiling dump truck company. Closer to Elliot's toy box, an upside-down car carrier and a school bus full of assorted animals wait to be played with again.

Lest you think he spent the morning playing with trucks, he was only in the family room for about 30 minutes so far today. That's because Elliot and I were out and about: we stood outside of a delivery truck, looking at "where the driver sits." We had to get just a "little bit closer" to a parked mail truck. And for at least 10 minutes, we watched a large flatbed truck idle...before going to play in the park with Elliot's excavator.

Trucks, trucks, trucks, truck, trucks. My little boy loves his trucks. And because I love him, I now spend a lot of time with trucks!

To My Little Valentine

2012-02-14T13:24:00.012-05:00

Dear Elliot,

I love you when...

...you dance with me to the tune of the garbage disposal, request apples for your puppet giraffe, pretend to eat my hair. I love you when you're silly!

...you kiss me with your mouth wide open, give me hugs before I leave the house, tell me you want to "snuggle Mommy." I love you when you're sweet!

...you get up on the "Crabby Appleton" side of bed, whine for no apparent reason, throw tantrums on the floor. Although I don't like your behavior, I love you when you're crabby!

...you cling to me, hide behind me and don't want to try new things...and then eventually realize you like them. I love you when you're timid (and love when you realize you don't have to be)!

...you play the tambourine to my maraca, sit on the floor with me as we read "just one more" story together, help me cook (usually by adding random amounts of pepper). I love you when you're fun to be around!

I love you, my little Valentine...always and unconditionally.

A Random Number of Random Musings

2012-02-10T12:36:00.011-05:00

Some random musings on a snowy Friday afternoon:

Pre-Elliot, I never would have thought it possible for someone to repeat the word "no" for 25 minutes straight. Now I know -- it can be done!

Why do store clerks slow move so slowly when Elliot is having a major meltdown at checkout? This morning, I had time to peel my toddler off the floor at least four times while the cashier processed my $7 purchase.

How can a dish soap sponge and a vacuum cleaner (which Elliot pretends is a leaf blower) be more fun to play with than so many of his large and varied assortment of toys?

When will I learn that certain types of questions, such as "Why do you insist on having a major meltdown every Thursday?" are totally non-productive with a toddler?

How did Elliot manage to memorize so many of his books at such a young age? It's amazing to watch him stare intently at the pictures and recite the words, page-by-page, to books ranging from Where the Wild Things Are to No, David! to the Pout Pout Fish in the Big, Big Dark.

While I hope Elliot someday learns the "right" way to kiss, there's nothing like getting a big open-mouthed smooch from my sweet little boy!

From "No" to "No" with a Swim Lesson In-Between

2012-02-07T15:22:00.011-05:00

"No," said Elliot in dismay when I told him last night that we had a swim lesson this morning. "No," he said even more loudly when I repeated the news this morning in an overly cheerful voice. His "nos" got louder and more insistent when I put on his swim diaper and bathing suit.

And, you can probably guess what he said when we arrived at the pool and all the other kids got into the water and started splashing around. "No, no, no." He refused to sit next to me at the edge of the pool. He wouldn't get in by himself, instead hanging on for dear life as I managed to maneuver myself into position and jump in with 29 pounds of toddler hanging on to me. Once in the water, he clung to me like a koala and responded to everything the instructor said to him with a definitive "no."

Until suddenly, half-way through the 30-minute class, something changed. Elliot started to smile. He began to take interest in the basket of toys at the water's edge. And, he got distracted enough by the bigger kids taking a lesson on the other side of the lane marker than he let me put him on his stomach in a swimming position.

Later, when he was talking to my parents, he told them he'd "blown bubbles." Um...I think that was me. But, no matter. Somehow, Elliot got more comfortable in the water today -- so comfortable, in fact, that he didn't want to leave when our half-hour was over.

After about 45 minutes, I decided I'd had enough chlorine. "It's time to get out of the pool, baby."

Elliot's response? "No, no, no!"

Answering Adoption Questions (Open Adoption Roundtable)

2012-02-02T15:49:00.006-05:00

This post is part of the most recent Open Adoption Roundtable, in which bloggers representing different facets of open adoption blog on a specific topic. This time, the topic is how we answer questions about others in our "adoption constellation," specifically those that require us to respond from another person's point of view. (Yes, I realize this is kind of confusing).

In reality, I no longer get that many questions about Elliot's birth parents, except for a lingering curiosity about how often we see them. Elliot is now going on 2.5 years, and we've been open about his adoption from the beginning. So, basically everyone who might have had questions has already asked them. Of course, as Elliot gets older, enters school, makes friends, and we all meet new people, that will change, and I'll probably end up explaining again the basics of open adoption and why it's a good thing.

For now, I'd say that I address assumptions more than questions. Most people seem to think that only teenagers place babies for adoption. (And yes, this is probably what I thought before entering the adoption process). People also seem to think that only birth mothers without the support of a committed partner make an adoption decision.

In our situation, neither of those things is true. So, my response is based on what Elliot's birth parents have shared with us -- both in conversation and writing. They just never wanted to be parents. Not everyone does.

And then I thank my lucky stars...because I know that Tim and I were meant to be Elliot's parents.

The Things Elliot Says

2012-01-31T13:26:00.007-05:00

"Kids say the darnedest things." Obviously (especially as I would never say "darnedest,") I did not come up with this expression. But, I do find it to be very true with my Elliot. The more verbal he becomes, the more the things that come out of his little mouth either amaze, amuse or otherwise surprise me.

On the amusing end is his intonation. I have no idea where he gets this, but Elliot tends to excitedly emphasize select syllables of just about everything he says. "Those are CUPcakes," he'll say, noting the baked goods on a magazine cover. "Leo is SLEEPing," he'll note. (Well, he was before you screamed.) "I'm going to play with my BLENDer," he'll exclaim. (Not yours...and no you won't).

It's also humorous to hear my expressions coming out of Elliot's mouth. A recent favorite is "perfect," which he uses in contexts ranging from putting pepper on his rice to carefully placing a toy where he thinks it should be. Tim and I realized last night that we both overuse this expression, which may be why Elliot now says it about 20 times a day.

Some of Elliot's phrases are ironic. For example, yesterday after Spanish class, we stopped at the grocery store. Seated in the cart, he suddenly told me, "Me gusta bailar." Oh, really -- you like to dance? Of course, when I asked Elliot why he not only refused to dance with the other kids in class but also refused to even sing about dancing, he had no answer.

And once in a while, my baby says things of the "Did he really say that?" variety. For example, Tim's dad recently passed away after years of poor health. While putting Elliot to bed, Tim shared the news with him and explained that he was feeling sad. Elliot's response was "miss Daddy."

How did he know to say exactly what Tim was feeling? We'll never know. But, Elliot really does say the most amazing things.

Bilingual Parenting without a Recipe

2012-01-26T08:06:00.019-05:00

My approach to bilingual parenting is similar to my approach to cooking: just as I typically don't follow a recipe in cooking, I don't follow a standard method for speaking to my two-year-old son Elliot in my non-native Spanish.

Throughout the day, we switch back and forth from Spanish to English, often in the same conversation. If I ask him a question in Spanish and he answers in English (as is often the case), I might switch to English...or I might not. I sometimes use Spanish to add details to English-language books as I read them or English to comment about a Spanish-language song. I think I speak more Spanish to him in the morning and less as the day progresses, but I might be wrong about that.

Sounds confusing? It is...and then again, it's not. And for Elliot, it's the norm...at least when talking to Mommy.

As you might imagine, especially since I'm Elliot's primary source of Spanish, he does a lot of language mixing, sometimes requesting things like "más queso." On the other hand, he seems to understand that there are at least two words for everything. Yesterday, for example, when I didn't understand his completely out-of-context mention of "bombilla," he repeated "light bulb" to me in English. And recently, I've noticed that he can answer or ask questions in complete Spanish sentences....albeit with grammatical errors that I'd imagine are typical for his toddler stage of speech development.

Although Elliot's use of Spanish is somewhat inconsistent, I've actually been pretty pleased with the results of my bilingual parenting experiment. Elliot understands everything said to him in Spanish, has a growing Spanish vocabulary and uses different sounds for pronouncing Spanish words than those he uses in English.

I think our Spanish class helps, even though it's just 45 minutes a week. It provides him with something critical: exposure to a native speaker and, perhaps more importantly, to other kids speaking Spanish. I want to continue to expose him to more native speakers -- ideally in person, but also through videos and songs. I'd love to put him in a Spanish immersion preschool, but the options look fairly limited where we live.

For now, I think we're making progress, with results that are more consistent than the outcome of my no-recipe cooking!

This post is part of the January Bilingual Blogging Carnival, which will be published here in the next few days.

A Snowy Weekend in Chicago

2012-01-24T13:41:00.022-05:00

As we approached the six-hour mark on what should have been a four-and-a-half hour drive to Chicago, I grew antsy. The stress showed on Tim's face as he navigated the slippery roads and heavy traffic leading into the city, which was experiencing a torrent of snow. But, Elliot was oblivious to our delay. From the back seat, he chattered with delight about the many trains and trucks along our route.

What a good little traveler.

Despite entirely skipping his nap that day, Elliot took to Chicago like a seasoned traveler. Minutes after checking in, we left our hotel to tromp through the snow to the Children's Museum. Elliot drove a fire truck, climbed aboard a digger, put gas in a car, did some cooking, pulled some plastic vegetables from a garden and slid down a musical slide...all without leaving the warmth of Navy Pier.

The next morning, we braved the cold for a trek to Millennium Park, home of Chicago's famous "bean,"a mirrored, curved sculpture shaped like a kidney bean that reflects and distorts the city skyline and the many tourists always crowded around it. But, truth be told, Elliot was less interested in the art than he was in the many snowplows clearing away six inches of the white stuff.

That afternoon's shopping excursion turned out to be very rewarding for Elliot when we decided to buy him a Mickey Mouse stuffed toy. It was adorable watching our son "share" his milk with Mickey as we waited for Elliot's first, Chicago-style deep dish pizza to be delivered to our restaurant table.

On the way home, we stopped at Shedd Aquarium, thinking that Elliot would really like it. After all, he enjoys watching the penguins at the zoo and always gravitates to small fish tanks in libraries in restaurants. He was somewhat intrigued...but he was more stubborn than anything else. He didn't want to see the jellyfish...and then he didn't want to leave. He barely even noticed the seahorses, skipped right over the otters and refused to touch the starfish. Our full schedule of activities was finally catching up to Elliot, who suddenly wanted nothing more than a peanut butter sandwich.

Travel with a toddler: it never goes exactly as planned and it's easy to overdo it and end up with a tantrum. But with Elliot, it's always an adventure, and I look forward to seeing much more of the world with our little traveler.

Bedtime Becomes a Battle

2012-01-19T13:34:00.011-05:00

"You know how much I love you, right?" I asked Elliot as I peered into his crib and kissed his tear-stained face.

"Yes," he said in his lispy, toddler voice.

Good.

When I was a child, I didn't realize how awful my parents felt when I misbehaved and they had to punish me. Now, as a parent, I get it.

Last night was perhaps our biggest bedtime battle yet. For unknown reasons, Elliot absolutely refused to put his toys away, despite multiple time-outs on the sofa that gave him a chance to calm down. Finally, I had to put him to bed "without stories" for refusing to cooperate.

He was upset, crying almost hysterically. He was mad, repeatedly throwing his binky and stuffed animals to the floor. I tried to calm him down, to sing to him and rock him like we always do. He wouldn't have it -- uncharacteristically squirming out of my arms and trying to run away.

Finally, after multiple attempts to put him to bed, and multiple visits to his room to see if he'd calmed down, he starting asking for some water. I gave him some water; he gave me a kiss, and I told him how much I love him.

Elliot doesn't understand how much it breaks my heart to see him so upset....especially over something so silly. And I absolutely don't comprehend why he didn't just put away his toys. It would have saved us both a lot of grief.

When Elliot acts up, I tell him something that my Mom always told me as a child, "I love you. I just don't like the way you're acting." I hope Elliot understands. I think he does -- in his toddler way.

Elliot the Extrovert?

2012-01-17T13:26:00.012-05:00

Elliot is not a shy boy, nor is he overly outgoing. Rather, it takes him a while to warm up to new people and situations, or those that aren't part of his regular routine. Take, for instance, this morning's swim lesson, during which he clung to me and said "no" to everything the instructor suggested. But this past weekend, despite a full roster of activities, my baby was Elliot the Energetic Extrovert.

Elliot's weekend fun began with a sleep-over at Grandma and Poppy's. I figured we were off to a good start when I saw the look of excitement on this face when my parents arrived at the door to take him out to dinner. My mom reported that he "smiled the entire time," "was adorable" and had a lot of fun. Better yet, for the first time, he didn't shed a tear -- not even when they drove away from our house in my car without me!

Saturday evening brought a family visit to some friends' house for dinner. I'd assumed that Elliot would enjoy playing with their one-year-old and five-year-old sons...after he starting feeling comfortable in this new environment. I didn't count on that happening the minute we walked in the door and he made himself at home with their toys. In fact, rather than being shy, he was almost a little too rambunctious for the five-year-old, who probably isn't used to be followed with such fervor.

On Sunday morning, we visited Tim's dad, who Elliot does not see very often. Despite his lack of familiarity with the house and the people in it, Elliot quickly got comfortable...perhaps a little bit too much. He spent the visit narrating his actions, "Now, I'm opening my door. I'm closing my door. I'm petting my dog," etc.

The fun extended through Sunday evening, when Elliot's birth parents and his birth mother's family came for a visit. All five of them hadn't been over in a while, and Elliot typically needs some time to warm up. But, not this time. He ran to the door, eagerly announcing that our doorbell was ringing. He interacted. He answered questions. He played with this toys. At one point, he threw a ball back to his birth mother's dad at least 20 times...giggling hysterically the whole time. Soon afterward, we realized he was acting "punch drunk" from his busy weekend, and he was off to bed...where he stayed until I had to wake him up at 8:30 the next morning!

A Mall + A 2-Year = A Bad Shopping Experience!

2012-01-12T16:04:00.004-05:00

Whining, Elliot lay on his stomach on the floor of the mall, his arms and legs flailing about. "Get up right now," I commanded, pulling at Elliot's arm. "1, 2..."

Before I got to "3," he pulled himself up and whined his usual response in this sort of situation, "I can walk, too." Then he decided not to.

Instead, he planted his feet and tried to pull me in the opposite direction..for no apparent reason. I picked him up, resigned to carry him (along with my purse, a backpack and his coat) through the mall, through the department store and to our car. He wriggled and squirmed, and we tried walking again. He whined. I counted. He complained. I cajoled.

And of course, everyone around us seemed to stare, probably wondering,"What is she doing to that kid?" or "Why can't she control her kid?"

Let me tell you: a two-year-old can be difficult to control, especially one who can be as stubborn as Elliot. That's probably why we don't go to the mall that often (unless it's to play on the coin-operated rides that I don't put coins into), and we may not go again for a long time. But, when we do go, I lately don't bring the stroller. The mall is fairly small and it's good wintertime exercise for Elliot to walk. And besides, he loves the escalators!

But, since he's not confined, Elliot thinks he can decide where (or if) he wants to go. He often tries to run off (despite our many talks about how he needs to stay with Mommy in public places) Or, he'll simply stop moving...for reasons I usually can't comprehend.

This morning, I may have pushed him past his toddler-sized attention span. After all, he did sit patiently reading his Mickey Mouse book as I tried on shoes, and he did walk next to me, sweetly holding my hand, for the first part of our shopping expedition.

Of course, I'll continue to work with my baby on his need to listen and obey. But, for now, I think I've come to the conclusion that clothes shopping with a two-year-old is neither productive nor enjoyable --- for either of us!

A Swimming Success!

2012-01-10T12:55:00.012-05:00

"I would like to put swim diaper on my bum," said Elliot this morning. As I struggled not to laugh at this statement, I took it as a good sign: my baby was excited about his first day of swimming lessons.

I went into the process with some trepidation. When Elliot was just six months old, we'd tried swimming lessons....and it really didn't go very well. But now that he's nearly two years older and understands the concept of going in the pool, I thought he'd do better.

Thankfully, he did. Of course, he did cling to me in a way that made the teacher comment on how lucky I was to get such "great hugs." He did say "no" when I asked him if he wanted to hang on to a floating barbell or use a backpack-style flotation device like the fearless girl his age in the class. He didn't like it one bit when I tried to move his legs in a kicking motion.

But, that's okay.

I know my Elliot, and it takes him a while to warm up to new experiences. He stayed in the pool for the entire 30-minute class. He didn't flinch when water got on his face or into his mouth. He even relaxed enough to pour a little water on my arm with a plastic cup. And, he smiled at the big kids taking a lesson on the other side of the pool.

With a two-year-old, you take your victories where you can get them. That's why I consider this morning to be a swimming success!

A Music Class Breakthrough

2012-01-04T14:01:00.008-05:00

Bang. Bang. Bang. With a drumstick in one hand and an unidentified wooden instrument in the other, Elliot enthusiastically pounded the floor, a big smile on his face.

"Freeze," said Miss Melissa. And Elliot stopped. Wow. Following directions in music class -- definitely a new development for my baby.

Today was the first class of the new session after a nearly two-month break. In that time, Elliot seems to have matured. I watched in amazement as he followed along with the teacher as she played her drumsticks on the floor, in the air like a violin, in front of her like a guitar and then over her head for a final on-the-floor crescendo (during which the overly-enthusiastic Elliot nearly poked me in the eye).

Making Music Together. That's what Elliot and I have been doing for much of his young life. Today for the first time, Elliot moved beyond "doing his own thing" to actively participating in the activities modeled by the teacher.

Of course, it's perfectly fine if Elliot bangs while everyone else is silent, and stands still while everyone else dances. He's only two, and his attention span is short. Toward the end of today's class, he decided he'd had enough and started wandering around the room. Regardless, today was a major music class breakthrough, and I could tell that Elliot was proud of himself for watching what the teacher did, then doing it himself.

Will exposure to music class have any long-term benefits for Elliot? It's hard to tell. But, I can tell you that music class is a lot of fun... and that Elliot already is pretty good with the drums, tambourine, maracas and the recorder:-)

A Terrible Tragedy Leads Me Down a Dark Path

2012-01-02T15:54:00.006-05:00

I was going to write a lighthearted "Happy New Year" post. I was thinking along the lines of outlining my 2012 goals as a mother, or perhaps talking about some of resolutions I'd like to see from Elliot, such as putting his toys away without a fuss.

But all I can think about is a terrible tragedy I learned of this morning. A friend's sister-in-law was killed while she was driving with her family in a car that was hit by a drunk driver. A woman my age. A mother of three. Sadly, disastrously, tragically killed while out on a family outing during the middle of the afternoon on New Year's Eve.

How can these awful things happen? How can innocent lives be ruined in an instant? How do people overcome such tragedy? And (not that this is at all about me), what if something like that happened to us?

As a mother and a worrywart, I often lie awake at night worrying about awful things that could happen to my precious Elliot...even as I know this type of thinking is not at all productive. Less frequently, I worry that something could happen to me...leaving him without a mother. Just like my friend's brother's three young kids. The thought that something could happen --something unexpected and beyond my control -- terrifies me in a way I can't even begin to describe.

This is not a Happy New Year's message. There's nothing happy at all about this situation. A family's lives, changed in an instant, and all because of one drunken idiot. If there's a moral in this, it's one we've all heard before: don't drink and drive.

And appreciate your kids, your family, your friends and your life.

Open Adoption Rountable: What I Learned

2011-12-30T13:41:00.012-05:00

What did you learn in 2011 about open adoption?

This was the question posed to bloggers interested in participating in the most recent Open Adoption Roundtable. What did I learn? Honestly, I had a bit of a hard time answering this question. Since I've been committed to open adoption for the past few years, I didn't really have a profound "ah ha, so that's what it's all about" kind of revelation. That being said, my answer is below...

This year, I learned that relationships in an open adoption, as with any type of relationship, are fluid and evolving.

When my husband Tim and I first met Elliot's birth parents (three months before his birth), we talked about getting together once per month. For awhile, we did just that...like clockwork. In fact, I often felt it was incumbent upon me to reach out to them and schedule a visit if it felt like we might miss a month. But, eventually, life got in the way and our visits have naturally spaced out a little bit.

And that's okay.

It doesn't mean that the visits are less meaningful. It doesn't mean that our feelings about the importance of maintaining contact or about Elliot's birth parents have changed. It might just mean that our get-togethers are moving toward a more natural rhythm, rather than a strict once-per-month schedule. After all, I don't see my family and friends at precise intervals; sometimes, I see certain people more frequently, sometimes less so.

Also, in the natural ebb and flow of a relationship, sometimes we draw closer, sometimes we pull back. This seems to be happening with Elliot's birth parents. We've observed that one of them seems more interested in seeing him on a more regular basis than the other. And that's okay, too. Life is variable, and so are relationships.

As long as we're all focused on what's best for Elliot, it's all good.

A Holiday Hike before the Hype

2011-12-24T13:41:00.010-05:00

A light dusting of snow covered the still-green grass. The sun shone brightly in the blue December sky. It was a beautiful Christmas Eve morning, the type of day that beckons you outside to "embrace the cold."

That's what Tim, Elliot and I did this morning as we bundled up in our winter gear and headed to the woods behind a local park. Elliot looked adorable in his red and black coat, matching hat and gloves and boots featuring some of his favorite construction vehicles. He was excited about our family hike, even after I told him I didn't think we'd be walking long enough to need Cliff Bars.

Elliot and I set off along the tree-lined trail, hand-in-hand, as Tim walked slightly ahead, pausing occasionally to capture the moment with his iPhone. Sometimes, Elliot walked alone, skirting fallen branches and talking about what we were seeing and hearing in his sing-song voice: "another tree fall down," "dog barkin'." Together, we crossed several wooden bridges over the river, which Elliot is always excited to see even if only a few inches of water remain.

After awhile, Elliot started to slow down. At the 22-minute mark, he asked to be carried, and Tim happily obliged. While 22 minutes doesn't sound like much and certainly doesn't compare to some of the hikes Tim and I have done in the past, I thought it an impressive distance for a two-year-old. More importantly, I loved the experience of being outside and active with my two boys on such a beautiful day.

Tomorrow will be loud and bright, filled with family, fun, food and gifts. This morning was peaceful yet invigorating...a perfect lead-in to the festivities.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Listening: the First Step in Doing?

2011-12-19T13:40:00.004-05:00

"No hables con comida en la boca," says Elliot, repeatedly, as he chews an overly large mouthful of food. At least, I think that's what he said. He could have made a grammatical mistake or two with his Spanish; it's hard to tell when he's talking with food in his mouth.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth." That's what I tell Elliot every time he does so. But, rather than taking my words to heart, he repeats them back to me...precisely as he's chewing with his mouth full of food!

"No running with the toothbrush," he says, as he makes a mad dash out of the bathroom, his Winnie the Pooh toothbrush clenched tightly in his little hand. "Don't turn the water on. Might be hot," he says, as he puts his hands under the running water that was off seconds before. And my favorite, "Get out of there. No, no, no," which he says every time I catch him somewhere he knows he's not supposed to be.

Sigh. Teaching a toddler the "dos and don'ts" can be a little frustrating. Sometimes, it's obvious that he knows he's doing something he shouldn't be. But other times, I think he just remembers what I say when he engages in that particular behavior.

On the positive side, at least he's listening. With a toddler, it's all about repetition, which I hope will lead to internalization, and then action. Until then, I'll keep repeating myself...and hearing my words parroted back at me.

Stand-Off at 8 PM (aka "Put Your Toys Away!")

2011-12-15T15:45:00.001-05:00

"Put your toys away," I said for what seemed like the 42nd time. Slowly, annunciating each syllable. "Put your toys away." Instead, Elliot just stared back at me, the hint of a smirk on his face.

Then he started to cry. Oh god, not again.

After several days of cold-induced odd behavior, Elliot had been fine all day. Until Tim came home, and he suddenly started crying every time I left the room. For the bathroom. For the hallway. It was enough to drive me crazy. And now this: he was crying. Not his normal cry, but his new, frustrated, frustrating, miserable-sounding "mew-mew-mew" cry.

All over two toys that remained on the floor.

"For real, Mister," Tim chimed in. "Put your toys away."

What, oh-what was Elliot thinking? I understand that two-year-olds like to test to see what they can get away with. But, did he really think this was a fight worth fighting? Did he really think that this was a battle he'd win? And why was he so upset?

"I love you very much, but I don't like the way you're acting," I told him, repeating a sage line my mom always used with me when I was a child. No response. After some time, we did a modified "time out." Elliot had to sit on the sofa, alone, until he decided to put his toys away.

He started to get down. I thought about giving in. Elliot's face grew blotching from so much crying. Tim suggested I leave the room. Elliot cried. Tim cajoled him. Then finally, after what was at least 20 minutes and seemed like two hours, Elliot picked up his Little People merry-go-round and put it in the designated plastic box.

"Put..toys...away," he said. We both hugged our baby.

The stand-off was over...hopefully, not to be repeated. But with a toddler, you just never know.

What Is Christmas to a Two-Year Old?

2011-12-14T14:20:00.000-05:00

"Is Elliot excited about Christmas?" "Have you been talking to Elliot about Santa Claus?"

"Not really" is the answer to these and other holiday-related questions I've gotten recently from friends.

It's not that I'm a Scrooge; I like Christmas as much as the next person. We picked out and put up our tree; we've been listening to Christmas music; we have a nativity; the outside of our house is lit up (although quite modestly compared to the rest of the neighborhood). This morning, Elliot and I even made some eggless Christmas cookies. But, I don't think he really "gets" it.

And that's okay. I feel no need to push Santa Claus on Elliot, although I've asked him several times if he wants to visit him when we've seen him at the mall. "Noooo," he adamantly replies. I made him one of those personalized "from Santa" videos, but we've only watched it once or twice because he found it "a little bit scary." Right now, he doesn't know that he'll be getting presents...much less to ask for something specific. And that's okay..especially because I know that his state of holiday oblivion won't last long.

Of course, I don't think that Santa Claus is the most important part of Christmas, so I recently took Elliot to see a life-size nativity and have read him a Baby Jesus-themed Christmas book. But, beyond a mild interest in the baby, he didn't really understand that part of Christmas, either.

And that's okay.

Elliot is a smart boy, but he's only two. When he's ready, he'll understand. When he's older, he can decide what he believes. Until then, I'll continue to lay the foundation by participating in holiday traditions that he'll enjoy (very messy baking), while waiting on those that will only scare him (visiting Santa). Even if it does mean we now have quite a few misshapen Christmas cookies to enjoy:-)

Really Toys R' Us -- Are We in the 1950s?

2011-12-09T14:44:00.001-05:00

"Oh, that's in the girls' aisle," the Toys R' Us clerk answered in response to my question about where to find the play food and pretend pots and pans.

Really? In 2011? Does the toy store really think that only girls play with play kitchens? Or, worse yet, that only girls grow up to cook in real life?

Elliot loves to "do some cooking" in his toy kitchen. Although some of his concoctions don't seem particularly appealing (frozen vegetables and ice cream seasoned with pepper in a frying pan), he's got quite a few years to perfect his recipes. And I plan to help him do that as he gets older. Even though I do most of the cooking in our family since I'm home, I definitely want Elliot to grow up viewing cooking as an equal opportunity job.

Back at Toys R' Us, I had to circle back to the help desk to find the next item on my list: a Little People House. Elliot already has a few Little People toys: a construction site with ramps for cars, a park featuring a merry-go-round and Ferris wheel. When I saw the house online, I knew it would be the perfect addition to his collection. A toilet that flushes! A doorbell that rings! Tiny furniture for the tiny family that comes with the house! What two-year-old wouldn't get a kick out of playing with that?

So, why did I stop for a second when I realized that this too was in the girls' section? Why did I make sure that I picked the purple one, and not the pink one? Why did I wonder if Tim would find this gift too feminine? He didn't, of course, and I realized that I was being silly.

But, not as silly as Toys R' Us, which is perpetuating outdated stereotypes about toys for little boys vs. toys for little girls. That being said, I have noticed a difference: Elliot gravitates to construction equipment like you wouldn't believe -- definitely a "boy" thing. He pays very little attention to his baby doll -- typically considered a "girl" toy. But, especially with toys based on day-to-day living, I'm certainly not going to let Elliot's perceptions be skewed by somebody else's out-of-date view of the world.

See You on Skype!

2011-12-06T13:41:00.001-05:00

"Give each other a hug, boys," my friend and I instructed our sons at the end of this morning's museum adventure. At first Elliot refused, then he acquiesced and put his arms around Lukas, who was already in the hugging position. Standing about three feet from the ground, bundled up in their winter coats, the embracing boys looked absolutely adorable. Whenever they hug or kiss, it's always sweet. But today it was especially touching because we won't be seeing our friends again...at least not in person, not anytime soon.

Just when the boys have really started to interact, Elliot's little friend and his family are moving to Italy. Since the time the boys were young (in comparison to their ripe old ages of 2-1/4 and 2-1/2 years old), we've gotten together about once a month. We've met up at the library, picked apples together, gone to the zoo, petted a variety of farm animals and visited just about every museum in metro Detroit together. And now, Elliot's little cultural companion is moving to the other side of the world.

It makes me a little sad, although Elliot doesn't "get" it. When I told Elliot that we wouldn't be seeing Lukas any more, he cheerfully repeated my words. But, as he's been doing lately, I'm sure he'll mention his little friend's name at random times, likely with the expectation that we'll see him soon.

Hopefully we will, if we can coordinate Skype sessions. I'd like to stay in touch, and I think Elliot will find interacting with Lukas on Skype at least as intriguing as watching a Thomas the Tank Engine video on YouTube. And of course, our future plans involve European travel with Elliot, so it's nice to have friends already there.

Labeling his World

2011-12-01T13:38:00.001-05:00

Standing atop a 10-pound bag of rice in the pantry, Elliot points to the objects around him. "Prezuhls." "Mommy's cewreal." "Wice." "Ah-mal cwackers." Excitedly, in his adorable toddler voice, he names everything he sees.

I've never taken a linguistics class and don't know much about language development. But, I'm fascinated by Elliot's ever-expanding vocabulary and by the way he uses repetition. It's almost as though he's memorizing the names of objects for a test, the way I used to with my Spanish flashcards. But for Elliot, there is no test - only life.

In Elliot's life, inanimate objects deserve goodbyes. Every time we leave the house, he bids farewell to random objects he spots: his toy microwave, his play table, a dump truck. As I listen to his "Bye, bye pepper; bye, bye Leo; bye, bye bye blocks" I realize that Margaret Wise Brown really understood what appeals to her toddler audience when she wrote Goodnight Moon.

Sometimes, I'm amazed by Elliot's capacity to remember words. Like this morning, when he told me that the pommel horse at open gym is a "horse," which he remembered from last week. Smart kid! I'm also impressed by Elliot's recent ability to say short sentences in Spanish, although language mixing is still the norm.

As Elliot increasingly knows what things are called, he's able to better communicate what he wants. An example: this morning on the way to the produce market as I was listing off what we were going to buy, he added an item: beets!

That's my boy:-)

Appreciating Art with Elliot

2011-11-28T14:08:00.001-05:00

"See crockpots. Wanna see crockpots," said Elliot, long after we'd left that particular gallery in the modern art section of the museum. They weren't really crockpots...although Elliot was close. The modern art installation featured steel stockpots and leather balls arranged to convey...well, something or other. But what Elliot saw was the same thing that Mommy often uses to make dinner.

That's art appreciation with a toddler.

Yesterday, Tim and I took Elliot to the Detroit Institute of the Arts for a little Thanksgiving weekend cultural fun. Elliot enjoyed the life-sized wooden motorcycle and the video of a Serbian woman holding a bowl of milk.
He found the indigenous masks "a little bit scary." He specifically asked to "get a little bit closer...decorative balls" that were part of a Christmas display and knew (since we have our own decorative balls at home) that they were for seeing, not touching. Of course, that didn't prevent him from trying.

What was Elliot thinking when he looked around at the vast and varied art collection around us? He repeated the word "sarcophagus" after Tim and parroted back to me that the Diego Rivera courtyard depicts "people making cars." But, with his limited life experience and context, he really has no way to make sense of these concepts.

We pointed out familiar objects: a painting of a dog, a collection of ancient teapots, some very ornate stools that look nothing like the ones he stands upon at home. And we looked at a lot of things that he would have absolutely no way of comprehending. But, that doesn't mean that he can't appreciate them in his own way.

Later, Elliot said he had fun at the museum. And even if he doesn't remember much of the experience, I've got to believe that there's benefit in exposing my baby to art.

Adopt a Family?

2011-11-22T13:54:00.001-05:00

We're adopting a family for the holidays said an email from the organizer of a playgroup I belong to. "That's nice," I thought, then signed up to contribute.

But then I started to think about it. Are we really adopting the family? According to dictionary.com, one of the definitions of the word adopt is "to take or receive into any kind of new relationship." In this case, it's a fleeting relationship. And really, it's a far cry from my definition of adoption.

For Tim and me, adoption was a huge decision that required a lot of soul-searching, research and candid conversation. It was a scary process that required a lot of paperwork, screening and opening ourselves up to a lot of scrutiny and the possibility of rejection. Most importantly, adoption was a life-changing decision, one that permanently changed (and improved) our family. Adoption made me a mother and made Elliot my son, creating an unbreakable bond.

So, when I go to Target to purchase my gift card for the holiday family, I'll mentally characterize it as my contribution to "helping a family," not "adopting" one.

Adoption Bloggers Interview Project

2011-11-17T12:54:00.001-05:00

For many people, open adoption is a scary and strange concept. I get that. But, since open adoption brought our beautiful son Elliot into my life, I sometimes feel a bit of responsibility to help demystify the concept. That's why I'm thrilled to be one of the 120+ bloggers taking part in this year's Adoption Bloggers Interview Project , which pairs bloggers to interview each other about their adoption experiences.

I was matched with K, who blogs about her experiences as a birth mother at Letters to You. I loved the chance to get to know her a little bit through her blog and our virtual interview, and I'm sure you'll agree that her answers to my questions are heartfelt, honest and enlightening. But, I'll let her words speak for themselves:

Your son is now 2.5 years old. What sort of relationship doyou have with him now, and what sort of relationship do you hope for in thefuture?

Right now, my relationship with my son ("O") is pretty non-existent, as he is only 2 1/2. I keep in contact with his parents through email and text, and occasionally get pictures, which I love. When I see him, I don't feel like he's my son. There are some pretty obvious physical similarities, but I don't see him and think of him as mine. I feel more like a distant aunt. The kind of great aunt you send pictures and "Hey look what our kid's doing today!" kind of aunt. And I am okay with that. I know he knows about me, but I also don't think he knows who I am. I know there are pictures of me in their house, and I know they have taught him the same way they've taught his older sister about adoption. I know my son and his sister pray for their birthmoms every night by name.

As for the future, I am open to pretty much anything. I know as I get married and have my own children, my relationship with Mr. R and Mrs. S (O's adoptive parents) will change. And that will be good too. I am pretty content to continue being the great aunt, who gets occasional letters and updates and brags about how cute he is. I am happy I can continue being part of his life, and I can answer questions as they arise. I think that's the biggest thing for my future relationship with O. I want to continue being a source of information and support, as needed.

I know from your blog that your faith is very important toyou. Describe the role of your religious faith in your adoption decision.

My faith is easily the aspect of my life that helped drive my adoption decision more than anything else. I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, and I relied on my faith to get me through the entire adoption. The Church has put out something called the "Proclamation to the World," which details the Church's stance on the family. There is a statement in the proclamation that talks about how children are entitled to a family with a mother and a father and to be sealed in the temple for eternity to those parents. The word "entitled" really got to me, as it helped me realize that the decision was not mine alone, but was all about what was best for my son. I placed my son through the LDS Adoption agency, which was a huge source of comfort. It has been great to know that my son is sealed to his parents, which the church holds to give him extra blessings. It is also great to know that he is being raised in the home and environment I hope to have for my own children one day. I have no doubts about if he is being taught correct principles or is in an unsafe environment, because the agency would not have approved his parents if they were not faithful members of the church.

Above all, my faith has helped me heal. I am grateful to have the faith that I have in God, and the beliefs I have about the purpose of life and the things that really matter. It was because of that faith and those beliefs that I was able to place my son.

What aspects of your adoption experience are you happiestwith? Is there anything you wish you would have done or that would havehappened differently?

This question is tougher. I am extremely happy with the entire experience. I feel like the timeline I used was perfect for me. Part of me wishes I would have been able to make a decision on a family sooner. I had several weeks to get to know Mr. R and Mrs. S and their families, but I still wish I had been able to develop that relationship even more. That being said, I am extremely happy with the relationship I currently have with O's parents. I feel that we have been able to balance to a perfect level of openness for each of us.

The one thing I do wish I had done differently was telling my family sooner than I did. It was tough to explain to my parents why I had known for a month and had been keeping it from them. My relationship with my parents grew more than I could have ever imagined, and I wish I had started building that relationship sooner, rather than pushing away my supports.

What would you say to a pregnant woman who is considering placingher baby for adoption?

I would say-- Do Your Research!! Adoption was the perfect choice for me, but I firmly believe that adoption is NOT the perfect choice for every girl who finds herself with an unplanned pregnancy. The only way I am able to feel 100% confident in my choice and not have any doubts is that I know the choice was right for me. I worked with my caseworker to look at pre-marriage counseling. I attended classes weekly about single parenting to see the challenges and benefits. I attended group every week with other birthparents to see that side of things too. After I did my research, I made a choice, and because I had seen each side of the box, I didn't have to wonder if my choice was the right one.

The second thing I would say is to trust yourself, but don't shut out other options. I did NOT want to place O for adoption. I wanted to be the perfect little mommy for a perfect little boy. But what I wanted came to not matter at all. I needed to do what was best for my son, which for us, was adoption. People considering placing babies for adoption need to think about the best interest of their children, not what is their dream or their hope. I had to put aside my wants to really look at other options, and it was only when I did that that I was able to see the best thing for my son.

-------------------------

K and I represent two different facets of the adoption experience, but I couldn't agree more with something she said to me via email: "Hooray for adoption!" You can find K's interview with me at Letters to You. And, if you're interested in the topic, you can find a lot more interviews with different perspectives on adoption here.

Not Quite Perfection

2011-11-15T13:28:00.001-05:00

"Estuvo perfecto," said Señora Ruth at the end of yesterday's Spanish class, which ended the fall session.

Hm. Perfect? I think not. Unless you define perfect as refusing to give up his yellow, blue and green bean bags when asked to do so; throwing his cut-outs of cherries and bananas to the ground rather than doing what he was supposed to do with them and wandering around the room talking about the vacuum cleaner instead of listening.

But, despite his half-hearted participation in some of the class activities, my baby did far better yesterday than in the early days of Spanish class. He sat with me and the rest of the class...most of the time. He correctly identified the colors of some of the items handed to him. He enthusiastically helped the other kids put the plastic fruit away into Señora Ruth's picnic basket.

Lately, the teacher has commented that she notices that Elliot "watches her like a hawk." I've noticed that Elliot will randomly say phrases from class at home, so he must be absorbing them, even if he hardly speaks in class and often seems intent on something else. And, he sometimes mentions Señora Ruth at home, which I don't think he'd do if he really didn't like her or the class.

I want to expose Elliot to more Spanish than he gets from me. I also think that participating in a class of this type is good preparation for preschool.

So, we will most likely sign up for the next session of Spanish class. After all, it's about progress, not perfection. And I think Elliot is making progress.

Conversing with Elliot

2011-11-13T15:18:00.001-05:00

"It's so wonderful when you can have a conversation with your child," a friend told me, some time ago. At the time, I wasn't quite sure what she meant, as what Elliot was saying certainly didn't qualify as "conversation."

But now it does. And it is a wonderful thing.

It's also sometimes rather hilarious. For example, the other day, I prompted him to tell Daddy what he was going to do the next day. Since we'd just been talking about it, I thought he'd mention that his cousin Jack was coming over. But what he said was, "Having a boys' night. Dinner with (big brother) Ethan." Which was also true...but "boys' night" sounded oh-so-funny coming from the mouth of a toddler.

What does one talk about with a two-year old? Just about anything and everything. What kind of fruit we have and what kind we need to buy. How traffic lights work. What Leo the Cat might be doing. The types of trucks he likes. What color certain things are...although "rojo" (red) still wins out about 70% of the time...regardless of the actual color of the item in question.

Sometimes, our conversations would be unintelligible to most other people, due to a strange mix of English and Spanish...with quite a bit of toddler-ese thrown in! For example, if you saw us at Target yesterday and heard Elliot asking to see the "vac-can-dos," you might not have realized that he wanted to peruse the vacuum cleaner aisle (which in itself, is quite hilarious!)

Another funny thing about conversing with Elliot is hearing my words (especially the ones I choose to use with him) thrown back at me. For example, in the car this morning, he said, "See digger," as we drove by a place where a digger had sat for a long time, although not for months. "I think it's all done with its work," I responded. "Digger all gone (pronounced All-GONK). Oh, well. Oh, well."

Do 2-year olds usually say "oh, well" and "oh, my goodness"? I'm thinking they don't, but it's pretty funny when they do!

Oh No, Pistachios!

2011-11-07T22:56:00.000-05:00

The soft whimpering and whining coming from Elliot's room on Saturday startled me a bit. Uh-oh. Why was my baby crying? I'd checked on him several times during his nap because of the incident at lunch and he'd seemed fine.

As soon as I saw him , it was readily apparent that he wasn't. His entire face looked blotchy. His eyes were watery and red-rimmed. Most shocking of all: his lower lip was swollen to three times its normal size.

"Oh, baby. Oh, baby." I scooped him up and ran to the kitchen, stopping only to give him the water he asked for before dialing the doctor." If this is an emergency, blah, blah...office hours are Monday, blah, blah, blah..." Then, finally, the pager number for the on-call doctor.

When she called back (quickly, fortunately), I told her what had happened. I'd given Elliot some pistachios at lunch, the first time he's had them. Within minutes, his eyes looked watery, he told me his mouth hurt and asked for some medicine. I made a bad decision and gave him some Tylenol.

Then, I noticed a ring of hives around his mouth. Not wanting to over-medicate him, I decided not to give him Benadryl. After all, his reactions to eggs and various legumes had never been more than hives that didn't seem to both him..and he'd never had the medication before.

Big mistake. Maybe he wouldn't have had such a bad reaction if I had given him an antihistamine initially instead of waiting until his reaction got worse. Perhaps I should have known to only give him a few pistachios since he's had some allergic reactions...although not to nuts. Maybe I should stop feeling so bad about this incident since Elliot is fine.

The maybes and perhapses don't matter now. What does matter is that we now know he can't eat pistachios, and we will definitely introduce potential allergens more cautiously. And fortunately, Elliot's reaction was not any worse; I do hope to never have to use our Epi Pen.

Not So "Egg-cellent News"

2011-11-04T14:18:00.000-04:00

Earlier this week, I took Elliot to the allergist for an "egg challenge," which sounds more mysterious than it actually was. For an hour and a half, Elliot ate increasingly large pieces of scrambled egg at 10 to 15-minute intervals. The egg-eating was easy; I was surprised by Elliot's love of the food. The biggest challenge was keeping my restless toddler from wandering into open exam rooms and rearranging everything in the office during this long and boring wait.

But the waiting seemed to pay off when I was told that Elliot had outgrown his egg allergy! No more would we have to ask every bread-basket-bearing waiter if the bread contained eggs before deciding if it could grace our table. No longer would cake be off-limit to Elliot at every family "happy to you" party. And, I wouldn't have to read each and every food label to see if egg had somehow crept in.

But, for some reason, I didn't quite believe the news. Maybe it was because I didn't understand how he could be allergy-free if he'd reacted a few weeks prior to egg in the skin prick test...although not nearly as dramatically as before. Perhaps it was because the amount of egg he consumed during the food test seemed fairly minute. Or, maybe it was just a mother's instinct.

Whatever the case, I decided to give Elliot some egg today at home. He ate the eggs enthusiastically and asked for more. But, alas, a telltale red rash had suddenly appeared on his chin! I quickly called the allergist, who explained that food allergies run along a wide spectrum, and the amount that Elliot had consumed in her office was his limit. To which I wondered: Why didn't they feed him more?

Oh, well. So for now, we've been told to avoid giving Elliot pure eggs and to slowly see if he can consume baked goods containing eggs without reaction. Hopefully, he'll still completely outgrow the allergy. But, even if he doesn't, there are far worse medical conditions to live with than an allergy to the incredible, edible egg.

Was Adopted, Not Is Adopted

2011-11-01T14:02:00.000-04:00

I happened to read an article the other day about Nicole Richie. I can't really remember what it said, mainly because she's one of those "celebrities" who doesn't much interest me. But, one thing stood out...one thing really bothered me. The article referred to Lionel Richie as her "adoptive dad."

Lionel adopted her, so he is Nicole's adoptive dad. Technically, that's true. But contextually, it's irrelevant. The article wasn't about adoption. It wasn't about genetics. Lionel Richie was just a side note. So, why did the author find it necessary to mention how Nicole became his daughter?

Of course, I get that adoption isn't the way that most children join most families. But, when it's not the point of the story, why does the media insist on making this distinction?

Elliot will always know that we adopted him. Ours is an open adoption, and we see his birth parents at regular intervals. However, I strongly believe that adoption is a process, not a label. Just as people don't typically refer to their "IVF children," their "oops, the condom broke, but it turned out okay children," or their "children through surrogacy," I don't see any reason to refer to Elliot as "my adopted child." In fact, I'd never do that.

That's why I will say (when it's relevant) that "We adopted Elliot" or "Elliot was adopted" (one-time, past tense), but never "Elliot is adopted" (ongoing label).

I'll bet that Nicole Richie and all the other people who joined their families through adoption can appreciate this distinction.

Elliot for Halloween

2011-10-28T14:16:00.000-04:00

This is Elliot's Halloween costume. While it does look a little freakish laid out on the kitchen table, it looks adorable on Elliot. Or, at least I think it would. So far, he's absolutely refused to dress as a dragon, despite having helped me pick out the costume.

I'll admit: I bought this costume because Elliot loves, loves, loves to wear his dinosaur shirts, and I originally thought it was a dinosaur. Silly me! But, to a 2-year old, is there really a big difference between a dragon and a dinosaur?

But, no matter. Elliot refuses to put it on.

He had his first opportunity a few days ago at music class, where the kids were invited to wear costumes. Our group contained a princess, a few cars from the movie, a pig, a bat...and Elliot, who was wearing the dinosaur t-shirt and sweatpants that were supposed to go under the dragon.

Elliot says he likes the costume. He says he's going to wear it on Halloween. But, every time I've tried to slip his arm into the sleeve, he gets a worried look on his face and immediately says, "Bye, bye, dragon."

I'm not going to push him to dress up. After all, he doesn't understand Halloween, doesn't care what other kids are doing and has never really eaten candy. He's in a stage where many things are "a little bit scary" and his costume falls into that category. The only real downside is that we won't get to see how cute he would look, and I'll be the only parent who doesn't post cute Halloween pictures on Facebook... but I'll get over it.

So, in answer to the question: What is Elliot going to be for Halloween?, I'm afraid the answer is simply "Elliot." But, he'll still be adorable.

No More Kangaroo Carry

2011-10-26T13:43:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, I opened Elliot's closet to put something away. There, lying on the floor staring up at me, was his light green Ergo baby carrier. I realized I hadn't used it in ages....and probably never would again. Elliot is now far too heavy, way too mobile.

Gulp.

In the early days, Elliot spent a lot of time strapped to my chest as I went about my daily business. I remember folding laundry with Elliot on my chest; reaching around the bulky carrier to access the keyboard and write with Elliot on my chest, even once making lasagna while Elliot slept, nestled against me.Today, Elliot "helps" with the laundry and cooking and seems to think my keyboard is his.

Before I was comfortable putting Elliot in a shopping cart, I took him into stores in the baby carrier, which always elicited smiles and comments from my fellow shoppers. He still gets smiles and comments at the grocery store, mostly when we bump into other shoppers as I'm trying to maneuver the unwieldy car shopping cart that Elliot is "driving."

The last time we used the Ergo about six months ago, it was strapped to Tim's back and we were hiking through the Smoky Mountains. Elliot alternated between eating pears, dozing off and asking to get out as we climbed across bridges, through the woods and up the mountain path. Based on how Tim's back felt after that experience, I doubt he'll be using the Ergo again, either.

Sigh.

I like to think that I'm not all that nostalgic about Elliot's baby days. While they were great, the toddler times are even better and I know we have so much to look forward to. But, something about realizing I'll never "wear" Elliot again makes me kind of sad.

But, I'm not yet done carrying my baby. I suspect I'll be getting requests for "Mommy, pick-o up" for quite some time.

Have You Considered Adoption?

2011-10-21T14:06:00.003-04:00

"Have you thought about adoption?" I asked, veering dangerously close to "not really my business" territory. To explain why I'd asked such a personal question to someone I barely knew, I added, "We adopted my son in a domestic open adoption."

Keep in mind: I don't normally suggest that other people look into adoption. After all, it's a very personal decision. But, the massage therapist told me that she "would have liked to have had kids" and added that she'd tried IVF.

Two thoughts immediately crossed my mind. One was that two male acquaintances would never talk about such personal topics. And two, had this woman and her husband considered adoption?

She told me that her husband would want a newborn, while she'd want a two or three year-old. "No, you don't!" I wanted to shout. I never thought I liked newborn babies all that much...until Elliot came along. And I absolutely can't imagine all of the experiences, bonding and love we would have missed out on over the past two years if he was just joining our family now. But, I said nothing.

"So you talk to her?" this woman asked, referring to Elliot's birth mother.

"Yes, we see both of his birth parents on a regular basis."

"Aren't you afraid that she..." I cut her off before she could finish, knowing full well how her question would end.

"No, they can no longer legally change their minds since they terminated their parental rights a long time ago."

I understood her hesitancy and her fear; just the idea of adoption can be very scary, very daunting. And I'm pretty sure that our brief conversation did nothing to assuage her fears. But, I felt it was worth mentioning, as adoption brought Tim and me the most amazing son.

When Elliot Smiles

2011-10-18T15:42:00.000-04:00

When Elliot smiles, his whole face lights up from within. His eyes twinkle. His mouth opens, revealing his chipped front teeth. From the side, I can always tell when Elliot is smiling because his already-chubby cheeks puff out further, making him look like a chipmunk storing a winter treat.

Adults have different types of smiles. There's the fake smile we put on for photos that never ends up looking quite right. There's the "passing you in the hallway/on the street so I guess I should acknowledge you" half-smile. There's the bad joke smile. And then there's the genuine, full-face smile...probably the most infrequent of them all.

When Elliot smiles, it's always real. When Elliot smiles, he's always experiencing joy. Joy because I've taken him to see the water rushing out of the washing machine, through the hose and into the laundry room sink. Joy because Daddy is playing "peekaboo door" for the 20th time that day. Joy because Leo just ran by on one of his crazy kitty missions to suddenly streak through the room and over the gate. Joy because he's just seen me...after an absence of hours or even minutes.

Elliot's smiles mean he's happy. He's delighted. He's living in the moment, and the moment is good. When Elliot smiles, it's a beautiful thing. I love that my baby smiles so often, and that I get to be the recipient of so many of Elliot's beautiful smiles.

Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!

2011-10-14T13:09:00.001-04:00

For the longest time, it seemed as though Elliot would never say "Mommy." If memory serves me correctly, he said "Daddy" a good four months earlier, and repeated obscure words like "clot" from books before correctly identifying me. In retrospect, saying my name might have seemed unnecessary as I spend more time with my baby than anyone else.

That has all changed.

From morning through bedtime, I hear my name repeatedly, in all sorts of contexts and tones. "Mommy, open door," came Elliot's insistent voice at a too-early 5:45 this morning. "Mommy, mommy, mommy" my silly son sometimes hyperventilates when he's upset about something. "Hi, MOMmy," he often says enthusiastically when I open the back door to let him out of the car we've just been riding in together. "Mommy's home," he says excitedly when I return from an outing without him.

"Mommy. Mommy. Mommy."

Although I hear it a lot, "Mommy" is a very special word. Elliot is the first person to ever call me Mommy and the only one who ever will. To him, I'm not Lynn or a writer or a person who likes to travel or the woman with the sore knee. To my baby, I am simply Mommy.

And that makes me very happy.

The First Time I Heard about Open Adoption

2011-10-11T14:41:00.000-04:00

This post is part of the Open Adoption Roundtable, in which people involved in open adoption blog on a specific topic. This time, bloggers are asked to address this question: "Do you remember the first time you heard about open adoption?"

It's hard to remember the first time I heard about open adoption, but I know what I thought: I want nothing to do with that. It seemed messy and complicated. I had no interest in potentially "sharing" my child with someone else. Above all, the uncertainty of being in a situation where a birth mother might change her mind terrified me.

That's why Tim and I first considered international adoption. It seemed cleaner and easier. Besides, I didn't think I liked babies that much, so I didn't think that missing out on the first 12 or 18 months of a child's life would really be that big of a deal. Oh, how wrong I was on the last point! Now, I can't imagine not knowing, loving and parenting my two-year-old Elliot from the time he was less than 10 hours old. But, I digress.

For reasons that are no longer important, Tim and I soon found ourselves realizing that foreign adoption wasn't going to work for us. So, domestic open adoption became our best option.

At first, we were worried about all of the worst case scenarios: a birth mother on drugs; a birth father who would come out of nowhere and try to take back the child; a child who was confused; birth parents who might want a say in how we parent.

Fortunately, our situation - and Elliot's birth parents -- couldn't be further from the awful scenarios I imagined.

Open adoption isn't perfect, and hasn't always been easy. But getting over my initial fears thanks to a wonderful counselor at our adoption agency led to the most wonderful experience of my life: being a mother to my son, Elliot. And that's why I can't remember when I first heard about open adoption, or exactly what I thought. It no longer matters.

New Shoes (or Elliot Loses it in the Shoe Department)

2011-10-06T13:54:00.000-04:00

"Come out from under there," I commanded of Elliot, who was cowering under a chair. Whining. On the floor. Of the department store's shoe department...as the saleswoman patiently waited.

In response, Elliot made his newest and most aggravating sound, "meh-e, meh-e, meh-e." I dragged him out, while explaining that I merely needed him to walk a few steps so we could test the fit of the shoes on his feet. Instead of obliging, he went floppy in a way that only toddlers can, and crumbled to the ground. Again.

Trying to win him over, the saleswoman gave Elliot a shiny blue balloon. I tried to distract Mr. Obstinate by showing him the colorful fish tank. The saleswoman even fed the fish for Elliot, in the hopes that he'd move closer to the tank. It didn't work. Exasperated, I picked him up, and we poked around his feet before deciding the shoes were too big.

So, it was on to the next pair, furthering Elliot's extreme non-cooperation phase. He whined. He started to cry. He flung himself to the ground, not moving. Embarrassed, I asked if other kids behaved as though shoes were the enemy. She assured me they did, although the other customer -- a little girl -- had no problem with the process.

Finally, after Elliot took a few small steps, we decided pair number two fit. After all that, the in-stock color in his size was a blinding orange, so the color we want is on order. When they arrive, I certainly hope that wearing the new shoes is a more pleasant experience than trying them on.

The Teeter-Totter Twos

2011-10-05T12:20:00.000-04:00

Being two is like being on a teeter-totter with a much heavier kid. One minute, you're high, high, high and everything is great. The next, you come crashing down and your world is falling apart.

At least, that's my perspective, having spent the last month with a two-year-old.

For example, yesterday Elliot and I went apple picking with a friend and her son. Elliot was super excited, talking about it on the way to the orchard. Once we got there, he happily exclaimed, "Go apple picking! Go apple picking with Lukas! There is Lukas!" Then, we got out of the car....and he collapsed. "Meh, meh, meh," he whined, as he reached upward with a strained look on his face as though the effort of walking was simply too much to bear and he needed to be picked up.

What happened to your excitement, Elliot?

Or last night, when Elliot and I were chasing each other around and around the kitchen, up and down the hallway. Elliot was giggling with delight, his arms waving as he ran after me like a wild man. Then, I decided I need to go into my bedroom for a minute. Elliot came along. When I was ready to leave, he wasn't, so I carried him out and shut the door. He then spend the next 5 to 10 minutes alternating between banging on the door and flopping on the floor like a wet noodle.

Really, my little silly? Just because you wanted to hang out in Mommy and Daddy's empty bedroom?

It's impossible to imagine what Elliot is thinking when he suddenly goes from being so happy, silly and sweet to so stubborn and angry. I know it's part of the process of asserting his independence and being a toddler. But, as any parent knows, it can get a little frustrating.

The good part is that nothing lasts long when you're two. So, when Elliot flops to the floor and refuses to cooperate, I usually just leave him alone...knowing that he'll be back on the high end of the teeter-totter before long.

"Snuggle Mommy"

2011-09-30T13:36:00.000-04:00

Elliot and I have a lot of little routines throughout the day. One of my favorites is "snuggle Mommy," with which we often start our day.

Many mornings, I'm not quite ready to get up when I first hear "garbage truck," "school bus," "front loader, pick up dirt," or Elliot's other vehicle-related babblings emanating from the baby monitor. So, I go into his room and ask if he wants to "snuggle with Mommy." He always does, although what he brings with him varies from day to day.

His favorite stuffed bear, Pizza Bear, just about always makes the trek across the hallway. Sometimes, Clifford the Big Red Dog (who's not so big in toy form), Peace Bear or one of the 10 or so other members of his nighttime menagerie join the fun. Often, either a toy truck or a truck book comes along for the ride. Yesterday morning, a plastic construction roller was the chosen truck, and it spent about 10 minutes rolling up and down my arm as I lay in bed.

Snuggling with an exuberant toddler is a more active cuddle than I was previously used to. But, I love it just the same. I love to feel my son's 26-pound body slung across mine. Sometimes, his head rests on a pillow, sometimes on top of my head. He wiggles and flops. He rolls and wriggles. Every minute or so, he says "Mommy, find [insert object he's brought into my bed]," then he thanks me when I uncover the "missing" object. Typically, after about two minutes, he squiggles out of bed, feet first, then walks around to the other side so that I can pull him back in. I kiss him, I rub his hair, I marvel at this incredibly sweet and silly boy who is my son.

If "snuggle Mommy" doesn't sound relaxing, it's really not. But, it is a beautiful way to start the day with my precious Elliot.

La Clase de Español

2011-09-27T14:25:00.000-04:00

"Ven aqui," I said to Elliot, emphasizing my request with the "come here" hand symbol. Ignoring my request, Elliot continued to eye the covered basket of popcorn in the center of the kid-sized table. While Elliot sat on a chair away from the class and continued to focus on the post-class snack, the rest of the kids sat with their moms and learned about fruit.

Yesterday, while the other kids danced around to salsa music, Elliot flopped on my lap like a wet noodle. When the music stopped and the teacher said, "naranja," the rest of the class ran toward a picture of an orange. Elliot remained motionless.

Elliot enthusiastically received the picture of a green leaf that was handed to him by the teacher. But, when it was his turn to feed a colorful stuffed version of the oruga hambrienta from the Hungry Little Caterpillar book, he retreated to a chair and refused to cooperate.

He did participate in the making of plastic fruit salad: taking, adding to the mix and stirring with a wooden spoon a concoction of toy bananas, apples, cherries, pineapples and other delights. But, he wanted nothing to do with matching tiny drawings of uvas, ciruelas and peras to plastic pieces of fruit in the center of the room.

Sigh.

With great enthusiasm, I had enrolled Elliot in a play-based "Mommy and me" Spanish class for toddlers. Now, after the first two weeks, my enthusiasm has somewhat waned. After class, I asked my two-year-old if he had fun. "Yeppe-yep," he responded, using his latest invented "yes" alternative. He also replied affirmatively when I asked him if he likes the teacher, Señora Ruth. But, based on his behavior, I'm not quite sure.

I know my baby and he tends to warm up slowly to new people and experiences. So, I'm hoping that's the case with la clase de español. However, even if Elliot ends up really liking the class, how much will he learn? So far, the vocabulary is fairly basic, since many of the other kids don't hear Spanish elsewhere. On the other hand, Elliot is just two years old. Even if he were enrolled in a similar English-language program, he'd be learning about fruit and feelings. Most importantly, augmenting my non-native Spanish with exposure to a native Spanish-speaking teacher and other kids who are learning the language in a fun, play-based environment can only be a positive.

At least that's what I'm hoping. We shall see/ya veremos.

This post is part of the September Bilingual Blogging Carnival, to be published here later this week. If you're interested in the topic of raising kids bilingually, check out other posts here.

"Mommy Dump Dirt" and Other Front Yard Games

2011-09-22T15:47:00.000-04:00

"Mommy dump dirt."

I hear this request at least 10 times a day. Little boy that he is, Elliot loves to play with dirt, sand, potting soil and anything else that can be picked up, shoveled and dumped. And, since he enjoys dirt so much, he probably figures that Mommy loves it, too. Or maybe dumping dirt is just more fun when Mommy gets in on the action.

Regardless, I often find myself squatting in the front flower bed with a plastic shovel in hand as we move dirt into Elliot's Little Tikes dump truck, then empty it into the flowerpot...only to start the process over again. When this gets old (for me...I don't think it can ever get old for Elliot), we often move on to walking up and down the street. He typically pushes a front loader, tractor or a toy lawnmower. Or, I'll push him on his trike, which we've decorated with a butterfly wind chime that jingle-jangles as we move along. I point out highlights along our path: a fire hydrant, a dog, a pickup truck.

We walk slowly, looking for treasures. "Mommy picko leaves," Elliot often requests. So, joining him on the sidewalk, I take leaves and twigs from the ground and put them into whichever toy is on hand. Elliot gets very excited if we happen upon a pine cone or an acorn, which he always wants to store in my pocket. Fortunately, he never notices that they don't stay in there very long!

Of course, we have different games for the backyard, the house and the park. But, this time of year, the front yard is where the sunshine is in the afternoon, so that's usually where you'll find us, post-nap. I'll be the one with dirt on my hands, a pine cone in my pocket and a big smile on my face!

Elliot Freaks Out (aka a Visit to Fantastic Sam's)

2011-09-20T14:26:00.000-04:00

With repetition, new activities typically become more comfortable for Elliot. However, one important activity seems to be defying this trend: the haircut. Despite having seven or eight under his belt, Elliot remains absolutely terrified of the process.

Several weeks ago, Tim took Elliot for a haircut in preparation for his two-year pictures. Alas, the photographer had to cancel at the last minute...leaving Elliot's hair to grow out into a most unattractive mullet. So last night, we decided that another trip to the salon was in order. This time, we had what we thought was a good plan: the three of us would go together, and Elliot would first watch Tim get his hair cut.

Things started out on a positive note at dinner as we talked about what lie ahead. Elliot seemed to understand, and enthusiastically screamed "haircut" several times. My baby maintained his positive attitude as Daddy donned a cape. But soon, as the buzzing and cutting began, Elliot's sweet little face showed signs of concern.

But, that was nothing compared to what happened when it was his turn to join Daddy on the chair. He grimaced. He cried...huge tears streaming down his reddened face. He wriggled and wiggled and tried to get free. Tim and I ended up passing him back and forth like a hot potato, making sure to hold his hands so that he couldn't get them in the path of the scissors. Elliot was terrified, breathing heavily, the vein practically popping out of his neck. I felt absolutely awful, although I knew the experience wouldn't last long.

Snip. Snip. Snip. Buzz. Buzz. Buzz. The patient stylist went from scissors to hair clippers as she tried to remove the unruly hair without harming my squirming son. It was no easy task, and the results aren't perfect. But, Elliot will not sport a mullet for his two-year picture, and that's about all we can ask for.

"Dump truck itchy," Elliot said on the way home, indicating that hair had found its way under his dump truck t-shirt. I'm hoping that one day soon, a little bit of itchiness will be the worst part of the haircut experience for my baby.

From the Mouth of Elliot

2011-09-15T14:59:00.001-04:00

"Kkkkk-kkkk-kkkkk" says Elliot as he dumps the dirt out of his Little Tikes dump truck. You may be thinking: Dump trucks don't go "kkkk-kkkk-kkkk." And you're probably right. But personally, I don't know what sound they emit so I usually make a "kkkk" sound when Elliot asks me to play "Mommy dump dirt." So, that's what Elliot says.

Likewise, when we find Elliot's stuffed Pizza Bear after searching for him throughout the house (he always seems to go missing right before nap time), Elliot lets out an "ooh" exclamation that sounds very familiar. As is the "boop" sound he makes at random times when we're playing. This morning, I caught him shaking a box of something-he-shouldn't-have-had in my bathroom while saying "shaky, shaky, shaky," which sounds both silly and like something I'm sure I've said to him.

If imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I feel very flattered. It's funny to hear my goofy noises coming out of my son's mouth. It's equally funny to hear him repeat my exact words. For example, when we saw a Model T-type car on the road the other day, I told him that he should tell Daddy he saw a vintage car, as a "vintage car" appears in one of his books. "Tell Daddy saw vintage car" he repeated back to me over and over again.

I really love when he repeats my words in Spanish. Today, during our outdoor lunch, he told me at least 10 times, "Pajaro come pan" (a bird will eat the bread), which is what I told him would happen with the piece of sandwich he'd dropped.

I know there will come a time when Elliot won't even listen to what I say, much less repeat it. So for now, I'll just enjoy listening to my little "monkey hear, monkey say."

"Happy to You" -- Part 2

2011-09-12T20:41:00.001-04:00

Last weekend, Tim and I celebrated our baby's second birthday on the shores of Lake Michigan. Yesterday, we continued the celebration with a family pizza party. Even though he doesn't understand the meaning of "happy to you" (as he likes to call it), Elliot knew that something fun was about to happen. And, he was excited -- dancing around and repeatedly exclaiming, "Grandma and Poppy coming over, too!" "David and Ethan coming over, too!" in the half-hour leading up to the big event.

Aunt Cindy and cousin Andrew joined Elliot's grandparents and big brothers for the birthday bash. Other family members couldn't make it for various reasons, but Elliot is not yet at an age where this puts a damper on his fun.

And Elliot had fun. He "played ball" with Daddy, David, Ethan and Andrew, which basically meant that he chased after the big boys with both arms in the air while screaming "running, running." He got to eat two of his favorite foods (pizza and green beans) in the place he always wants to be (outside). He received some great presents, including a Clifford stuffed toy he's been dragging around all day, his first-ever magazine subscription and a framed dump truck puzzle! Thanks to an egg-free cake mix, my birthday boy also got to enjoy a chocolate cake, which (as you'll notice in the picture) was made with more love than decorating talent.

For Elliot, last night was a special evening. But for Tim and me, every day is more special since Elliot joined our family two years ago.

From Elliot's Point of View

2011-09-09T13:33:00.001-04:00

As Elliot becomes more verbal, it's becoming increasingly clear that his view of the world is often quite different from ours. Of course, I cannot get into my toddler's mind and truly understand what he's thinking or what he sees. However, based on what he says, Elliot seems to think that...

Grills are exclusively for cooking fish: I guess we (Tim) didn't do as much grilling as we would have liked to this summer. In fact, it appears as though our use of the barbeque was limited to Sunday suppers of either salmon or tilapia. So, every time we pass a grill -- in a store, at someone else's house, etc. -- Elliot says, "Daddy cook fish." I think most kids would associate a grill with hamburgers or hot dogs...but to Elliot, it's a giant outdoor fish-cooker!

All trucks either "move dirt" or "help people:" Elliot can identify trucks by sight that I didn't even know existed a few months ago. But sometimes, he gets a little confused about their function. When he sees a big vehicle -- be it a front loader, an ambulance or what he calls a "double dump truck" -- he often excitedly says either "pick up dirt" or "move dirt." Sometimes, when an ambulance (or a fire truck) roars by, he often correctly states that they "help people." However, despite our explanations to the contrary, Elliot recently told us that the logging trucks we passed on the road in northern Michigan "help people." In a way, I guess that's true -- if you're in need of paper or furniture!

Mommy is a horse/playscape: "Mommy's back, Mommy's back" Elliot often says, indicating he would like a piggyback ride. Often, I'm happy to oblige. However, sometimes, he'll try to climb onto my back when I'm in the middle of eating, stretching or getting dressed. It's the same with "dinosaur" -- a song I sing while he stands on my feet, facing me and holding hands while I walk. It's fun and funny...but not so convenient when he wants to do it when I'm barefoot or in a hurry to get somewhere. To toddlers, I know there's only "now," but I'm still trying to teach Elliot that there's a time and place for Mommy to serve as his giant climbing toy!

Highlights of Elliot's Labor Day Trip

2011-09-06T15:40:00.000-04:00

Tim, Elliot and I spent the Labor Day weekend in northern Michigan. For me, the most memorable parts of our late summer sojourn were spending time with "my boys," celebrating my baby's second birthday, frolicking on the beach and climbing the Sleeping Bear Sand Dunes. But for Elliot (at least based on what he talked about the most), the most exciting parts were:

The Telephone: Since we couldn't get him to stop playing with the corded telephone in our rented condo, we decided to unplug it and let him talk to his heart's content. He must have "called" Grandma 15 times. Each time, his conversation went like this: "Hi Grandma. Okay. Bye." -- which is more than he often says to my mom when she's really on the phone. The phone factored into another exciting event for Elliot. Once, he left it somewhere it shouldn't have been and Daddy found it. This made quite an impression, as he mentioned "Daddy find tel-o-phone" at least 10 times afterward.

When Daddy "Frew Water": One day, while we were on the small patio behind our condo, Tim happened to throw the water from the glass in his hand into the woods beyond. To Elliot, this was a major event. Perhaps he was delighted by the physics of it -- how did the glass stay in Daddy's hands while the water flew up into the air? Maybe he just realizes that Mommy and Daddy don't usually throw food or drink. Regardless, this one-time only event was talked about multiple times every day.

Acorns and Pinecones: Ever since Elmo gathered "9 pinecones" in one of Elliot's books, Elliot collects them at every opportunity. Recently, he also discovered the allure of the acorn. So, imagine his delight at finding himself at a place with pine tree-lined walkways! I'm sure that Tim will continue to find both acorns and pinecones strewn about his car for quite some time.

Trucks: With Elliot, it always comes back to trucks and this trip was no exception. Northern Michigan is quite agricultural, providing Elliot with multiple sightings of "pick-o" trucks and tractors. And, with many end-of-summer road projects along our route, Elliot also got to see dump trucks, front loaders, backhoes, scrapers and mobile cranes in all sizes and shapes. Paradise for our little truck-lover!

"Happy to You," Elliot!

2011-09-04T09:00:00.010-04:00

To my precious Elliot:

Today is your second birthday. So I'll tell you what you say when someone else is celebrating a birthday: "Happy to you!"

But really, it's happy to me.

I'm so happy that you're my son. I'm so happy that you're turning out to be such a sweet, silly and smart little boy. I'm so happy that I'm able to be home and share so many adventures with you, my beloved baby...who's really not a baby any more.

In just two short years, you've gone from being completely dependent on Daddy and me to being "Mr. Independent." You've gone from barely being able to make your needs known to putting together three and four-word sentences in both English and Spanish (often combined). In the past two years, you've brought more joy to my life -- and to Daddy's - than I would have thought possible.

Two years ago, I was still somewhat frightened of motherhood. Today, I can't imagine not being a mother. But no, that's not completely true: I can't imagine not being your mother.

The other day, while walking down the street together, you stopped for a minute and smiled at me -- an open, honest and joyful expression of love and delight. "I love you..."

"...so much," you answered. Then you kissed me, and my heart melted.

And that just about says it all. Happy 2nd birthday, my darling Elliot!!

Mundane Adventures

2011-08-29T15:54:00.004-04:00

For a toddler, even the most mundane activity can be an adventure. Take this morning's events as an example.

First, Elliot and I went to get an oil change. Pre-Elliot, this would have meant that I'd drink a bad cup of coffee and read an outdated magazine while sitting in an uncomfortable chair. But, not today. Elliot and I parked ourselves at the window separating the waiting room from the garage and watched. And watched. We watched as Mommy's car went "up in the air." We watched as a truck had its tires rotated. We tried to identify the source of the loud noise we keep hearing.

Even when Elliot was done watching the garage activity, there was plenty more to see. Since we were at a Firestone, there were plenty of tires...and we looked at most of them. We watched the pickup trucks, dump trucks and other vehicles roaring by the open window. And, then we moved back to the window, to see "Mommy's car...up...air." Just think of all I would have missed had I decided to read an old issue Ladies Home Journal.

Later this morning, after a trip to the park and the grocery store, we came home to play. At one point, I decided we'd take a quick walk around the block on Elliot's pushable tricycle. I estimated this would take about 5 minutes; I under-calculated by about 15. I didn't take into account that Elliot would want to get off and on the bike at least 17 times to "pick-o grass," rocks or other treasures. I didn't realize he'd try to touch every sprinkler head along our path. And, I certainly didn't think we'd come home with my pockets full of rocks, grass and what Elliot called a "snake," although I thought it was an old piece of a chain. I didn't realize any of this because I looked at what we were doing as just a walk, while Elliot saw it as an experience.

A toddler's curiosity makes everyday events and activities into extraordinary experiences. I think there's a lesson in there for all of us.

Reasons (Excuses?) for Not Always Speaking Spanish to Elliot

2011-08-23T13:15:00.000-04:00

I recently ran into a French friend, a new mother who is keeping her language alive by speaking it exclusively with her baby son. "You should only speak Spanish with Elliot," she told me.

And maybe I should, even though it's not my native language. But, I don't...for the following reasons:

I don't know all the words: Of course, I use a dictionary as well as online translation sites. And, I'm considering upgrading to an iPhone mainly to have a translation app always on-hand. But, it's not always convenient to look things up when explaining how the washing machine works or what the walrus at the zoo is up to. So, I sometimes find myself using more general terms in Spanish than I might in English, or reverting to English. But, I do make a point of looking up any unknown words when I can.

It wouldn't be natural for me: I do tell Elliot, "Te quiero mucho" often. But, more often, I tell him that I love him. For me, the English phrase is more meaningful and comes more from my heart. And, while I do have pet names for my baby in Spanish, at times the English versions resonate more with me. So, even though I'm not a fan of Spanglish, I do find myself saying things like, "¿Qué haces, silly-willy?"

My husband and family don't speak Spanish: I know that many non-native speakers talk exclusively to their kids in their chosen language, even if friends and family don't understand. But it seems to me that this would be somewhat awkward. So, while I do talk to Elliot in Spanish when Tim is around, I do so even more during the day when he's not. Of course, the benefit to speaking Spanish in front of my husband is that he's starting to learn a lot more words!

Sometimes, I get lazy: Native Spanish speakers might well disagree, but to me, a lot of terms are easier to say in English. For example, is it easier to ask Elliot to get on his "stool" or his "taburete escalera?" When we see one whizzing by, it is simpler to say, "Look, a front-loader," or "Mira, un cargador delantero?" To me, especially in the heat of the moment, the answer is sometimes to use the English term, at times, within a Spanish sentence...which I don't think I "should" be doing. On the other hand, I do think learning all the truck names in Spanish will ultimately be less useful for Elliot than knowing foods, colors and verbs describing daily activities.

Are these good reasons for not exclusively speaking Spanish or just excuses? A little of both, I tend to think.

For now, I'll continue as I'm doing, although I plan to make more of an effort to expose Elliot to Spanish-only experiences. To that end, I'm very excited about the play-based, immersion Spanish class we'll be starting in September!

This post is part of the Bilingual Blogging Carnival, to be published on 8/25 on Tongue Tales. If you're interested in the topic of bilingual parenting, check the site for other perspectives and stories.

Another Successful Sleep-over!

2011-08-22T13:39:00.000-04:00

Elliot played with the Fisher Little People I'd played with long ago. He petted Gia the dog. He wanted to see my mom's washing machine, which is always a big attraction. In other words, he was having fun...until Tim and I got to my parents' front door. I made the mistake of looking back at my baby just in time to see his mouth open wide and his eyes clench tight in his "I'm-about-to-wail" expression.

Elliot started to bawl just as Tim and I walked out the door on our way to an overnight get-away.

Fortunately, I later learned, his tears lasted a mere 30 seconds. And, even better, he had a fantastic time at "Camp Grandma & Poppy" (the name all my parents' grandkids have used for my dad since my oldest nephew invented it years ago).

Elliot went to the park...three times in two days. He got to see one of his all-time favorite activities: road resurfacing, involving many different types of trucks. He went out to lunch. He played hide-and-seek. And, he even got to watch a few minutes of Sesame Street on TV, something he's never done at home.

Elliot ate well. He slept even better. My parents reported he was a little chatterbox. He even got a "for no reason" gift: a new book and a set of golf clubs (which he thinks is a vacuum cleaner!)

So, while Tim and I enjoyed a much-needed B&B/biking/hiking/beach-walking/birthday dinner experience, Elliot had a wonderful time with his grandparents...and they with him. And that makes me very happy.

The Worst Feeling

2011-08-17T13:32:00.000-04:00

Motherhood for me has proven to be a fairly emotional experience. From the heights of unconditional love to the depths of pure frustration to absolute joy, I've found myself experiencing a wide range of strong emotions.

But the other day, I had the absolute worst feeling: panic.

Elliot and I were at the zoo with some friends: four other parents and three other kids. Our group moved from animal to animal, enjoying the monkeys, the zebras and the way that the tiger reacted to my friend's husband's cow call (but that's another story). As usual, I was pulling Elliot in the wagon. Since we were with a group, I was keeping him in the wagon as we moved from exhibit to exhibit, not letting him push like I often do. At one point, I stopped buckling him into the wagon so that he could get in and out more quickly when we reached an animal of interest.

Big mistake.

I was walking along, slightly trailing my friends, when I realized that there was no need to carry the backpack on my back. I reached down to put it into the wagon..which was empty except for our lunch bag.

Elliot was not in the wagon!

"Elliot! Where's Elliot?" I started to scream. My mind went to a terrible place.

Within seconds, my friend spotted him. "He's over there." And there he was, calming squatting by a plant playing with the dirt.

Just thinking about this days later brings an awful feeling to the pit of my stomach. I lost sight of my precious baby! As a mother, keeping Elliot safe is one of my biggest priorities, and I failed. Fortunately, nothing negative happened. But thoughts of what could have happened keep running through my mind.

I realize that most other parents have a similar story. But, it doesn't make it any less scary, or make me feel any less guilty for "losing" Elliot...if only for a very short time. I really have no idea of how he managed to get out of the wagon without my knowledge.

But I know for sure that he will never again have the chance. From now on, he's always wearing his seat belt.

Bonding with Big Brother

2011-08-15T16:37:00.000-04:00

"If he cries, it will only be for a few minutes," Tim warned the babysitter as we left the house on Saturday evening.

"Goodbye. Have fun," I said, hoping to sneak out before Elliot started to freak out.

We left the room. No cries. We walked through the kitchen. Still nothing. We went through the childproof gate, and started to open the garage door. Nothing. Not even a whimper.

For the first time ever, Elliot didn't cry when Tim and I went out for the evening. Perhaps that's because we left him with a very special babysitter: big brother David.

Of course, Elliot's other babysitters have also been very special; the only people we've left him with so far have been my parents and my sister. But, despite loving them, feeling comfortable around them and ultimately having a good time, Elliot has cried each and every time we've gone out (which always makes it hard to leave, even though we know he's fine).

But this time, leaving was as easy as walking out the door.

Maybe there's something unique about being babysat by your brother, even if he is 20 years older. Maybe Elliot looks at David as a very big kid, rather than as an adult. Perhaps Elliot realized that he was about to have David all to himself...which usually doesn't happen. Or maybe (and this would be wonderful), he's finally mature enough to realize that Mommy and Daddy always come back when we go out for the evening.

Whatever the reason, it was nice to know that Elliot and his big brother had such a nice evening. No crying. No tantrums. Just a lot of fun.

Elliot is my only child and we plan to keep it that way. Sometimes, I think it's not fair to my baby; he'll never grow up with a close-in-age brother or sister and establish that special, lifelong bond built through shared experiences.

But, I'm glad that he and his two big brothers seem to be building a different kind of special bond.

"How 'Bout a Ride?" and other Random Musings

2011-08-12T13:57:00.001-04:00

They say that experience is the best teacher. And motherhood is certainly full of new experiences. So, if A = B and B = C (or something like that...math is not my thing!), then motherhood is certainly full of lessons.

Some are big and some are small. Some of the more trivial things I've learned recently from being a mother include:

- Blueberries do not make a good "on the go" snack: One of the cardinal rules of motherhood is to never leave home without a snack. I ventured out empty-handed the other day, but only because our destination was the farmer's market. I figured, correctly, that we'd be able to get a snack there. I figured that my little fruit lover would have a few handfuls, I'd have a few handfuls, then we'd take the rest home. What do you think happened to our quart of very ripe and very blue berries? I had a few. Elliot ate about half, and at least a cup full of indigo mushiness is now a permanent decoration on his shorts.

- Don't give your toddler access to your CD cabinet: Tim loves the Beatles, so has been exposing Elliot (whose favorite song is "Yellow Submarine") from the day we brought him home. So, it was only natural that Elliot would want to expand upon the collection of several Beatles CDs that Tim gave him for his in-bedroom CD player. Apparently recognizing the Beatles' logo, Elliot started helping himself to additional music - the blue album, the red album, even the soundtrack of the Beatles-inspired "Love" show. But, when he moved out into the "B" section of our massive CD collection and got into my Barenaked Ladies, something had to stop. I put a lock on the cabinet, which Elliot promptly removed. So for now, a rubber band is keeping him out, but we'll see how long that lasts. In the meantime, I'm trying to teach him to gently hold a CD by its edges, but this seems difficult for my small-handed and impatient little boy.

If you're pulling a wagon, be prepared: I've noticed a common occurrence on our regular wagon rides throughout the neighborhood. Other mothers will typically stop to chat. People whose houses we pass will always wave. People walking their dogs will laugh when Elliot invariably says "Doggie...woof woof." But the one thing I can always count on is this: 9 of 10 men over age 60 will say, "Hey, how 'bout giving me a ride?"

Don't say I didn't warn you:-)

Elliot's Feline Friend

2011-08-09T14:03:00.000-04:00

"Hi, Leo," Elliot said enthusiastically as he walked into the kitchen this morning from his bedroom.

In his typical skittish manner, Leo the Cat quickly ran off. But, this didn't deter my baby. "Hi, Leo. Hi, Leo. Hi, Leo," he repeated, each time a little bit louder.

Elliot loves Leo. And despite being sometimes scared of him, Leo seems to enjoy the attention he gets from Elliot.

Elliot loves to help me brush Leo, although I usually have to remind him that we do it bristles-down. I often find Elliot standing in front of "Leo's chair" petting him. While he does, he says "nice Leo," repeating what he often hears me say, "Be nice to Leo."

Most of the time, he is. But occasionally, Elliot's curiosity gets the best of him and he tries to touch Leo's whiskers, grab his tail or swing a stuffed animal in his face. Fortunately, Leo is pretty tolerant of my touchy toddler. And, he seems to know that he can run faster and fit into smaller places than Elliot.

Today, not understanding what Elliot was trying to do, Leo ran away from him. In a way, I wished he hadn't, as it was adorable. On the other hand, I didn't relish the thought of Elliot putting his tongue on Leo's fur...which is exactly what he would have done had Leo cooperated when Elliot bent down, opened his mouth and said:

"Kiss Leo."

Answers to Open Adoption Roundtable Questions

2011-08-03T13:47:00.000-04:00

This post is part of the most recent Open Adoption Roundtable, in which adoptive and birth parents share their perspectives on specific issues. This time, we were asked to answer some questions about open adoption that were posed by a woman who was adopted during the era of closed adoptions. I've only answered the questions I feel qualified to address, but have kept the original numbering for consistency with other bloggers.

1. Can the adoptive parents really go back on their word after the adoption has been finalized and do whatever they please in regard to updates and pictures?

First, I'd have to say that an "open adoption" defined by exchange of updates and pictures is really not that open, unless the adoptive and birth parents live far away from each other. In our case, since we live in the same area, openness is defined as allowing the birth parents to visit regularly.

I say "allow" because it is our decision to permit them to be in our son's life. Of course, we went into our open adoption planning to allow regular contact after learning from our agency that it's in the child's best interest. But honestly, one of the caveats that made us completely comfortable with open adoption was knowing that we would have all the legal power once the adoption was finalized. Before we were chosen by Elliot's birth parents, we had no idea what sort of people they might be. We'd been warned that it's not uncommon for birth mothers to be facing some sort of "chaos" -- drugs, crime and rape being among the most negative. It was reassuring to realize that if we had been chosen by a birth mother who would be a negative influence on our son, for example, one with a drug problem, that we could cut off physical contact in his best interest. Fortunately, our situation couldn't be farther from this example, so we remain committed -- although not legally bound -- to continue to allow openness.

2. Who is the go-between for communication with most Open Adoptions: the case worker, the placing agency, or the lawyer handling the adoption?

Once the adoption is finalized, the agency is out of the picture. We communicate with Elliot's birth parents in the same way we communicate with other friends, family and acquaintances -- by text, email and phone.

7. What deters the birth parents from coming to your house unannounced?

The same thing that deters anyone from coming over to my house unannounced (or me from showing up with no notice at someone else's house): tact and common sense.

10. When is the adoptee old enough to choose if they want contact or not? What if they are the ones who want to break off ties with the bio parents?
We've always felt that having Elliot's birth parents around from the beginning would be the most natural thing to do -- for him (our primary concern), but also for them. I never want to have a situation where my almost two-year-old gets older and suddenly "discovers" that he joined our family via adoption. To that end, I wrote Elliot a book entitled "How You Became Our Son" that tells his adoption story in a simple manner with a bit of humor thrown in.

For now, Elliot has no say in whom we see and when. Of course, as he gets older, he'll be more opinionated...and there's no way for me to guess how he'll feel about seeing his birth parents. There may come a time during the rebellious teenage years when it's the last thing he wants to do (of course, I doubt he'll want to spend much time with Tim and me at that age, either). If this happens, my plan for now is to address it openly and honestly.

Talking about Trucks

2011-08-01T12:16:00.001-04:00

"Tanker truck." "Mixer." "Big truck."

As we drove down the freeway this morning, I got a running commentary from the backseat on the trucks we passed. Of course, Elliot wasn't always right, especially with unusual truck types not found in any of his many truck books. But, his growing, almost-two-year-old vocabulary definitely contains more than its fair share of truck terms. For example, he hardly ever says "yes," (although "no" is quite common), but he can identify a "dumpfer" (as he calls dumpsters) from quite a distance away.

Perhaps that's because the dumpster in front of our house made such an impression. It's been gone for more than a week, but Elliot still talks about it. He randomly (at least it seems random to me) will start waving his hand and say "Bye, bye dumpfer." And then, often he'll continue, "truck away." In fact, this tale of how the truck came to take the dumpster away may well be Elliot's first -- and currently his favorite -- story.

Trucks also played a key role in what I think was Elliot's first three-word sentence. "Truck move dirt" he says at least 10 times a day. I believe he got this from me. I told him that a front-end loader "moved dirt." So now, whether it's a digger, a dump truck, or even a pickup, Elliot happily proclaims that it "moves dirt." Sometimes, he uses a variation from my highly technical truck vocabulary, "Truck pick up dirt."

But my favorite multi-word sentence has nothing to do with trucks or water. It's something Elliot hears a lot, and is starting to repeat more and more. Whether or not he knows what it means, coming from my little Elliot, it's just the sweetest thing:

"I love you."

Uh-Oh...Crisis Averted!

2011-07-28T16:19:00.001-04:00

"Throw 'way. Throw 'way," Elliot said this morning. Before I realized what he was doing, he'd thrown away the remaining toilet paper in the bathroom of the master bedroom.

Leaving Elliot to play in the bedroom -- and with the door ajar-- I quickly made my way to the laundry room to get a fresh roll of toilet paper. I returned within seconds...to find the bedroom locked from the inside, with Elliot within.

I started to panic, remembering our previous lock-out experience. But this was worse...because I had no key. I rattled the doorknob. Nothing. "Elliot, Elliot," I shouted, hoping that he'd left the room and would respond from somewhere else in the house...even though I knew that was unlikely. But, he didn't respond at all.

I considered my options. Call Tim. But, for what reason? So we'd both be panicked. Call the police. But, how long would they take to respond? Break into the window. Not ideal...and it would certainly terrify Elliot.

I took a deep breathe, trying to calm myself. Then, I remembered that something of this nature (but with nobody in the room) had happened before. I'd been able to jiggle the flimsy lock open with a key. Would it work again? It had to.

I raced through the house to where my car and house keys hang on a hallway hook, then ran back. I inserted the tip of the key into the lock and moved it around. Nothing. I tried again, starting to get really worried. Still no sound from Elliot - at least he didn't know anything was wrong.

Then, the lock gave way and the doorknob jiggled. I opened the door to find Elliot innocently rifling through my jewelry.

Whew! Crisis averted. And we're replacing our bedroom doorknob with one that doesn't lock..as soon as possible.

Mr. Monkey Boy Goes Wild

2011-07-26T13:42:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, Tim came home from work to find Elliot hanging on to me -- arms wrapped around my neck, legs wrapped around my hips -- while we both made an "ee-ee-ee" sound in imitation of the monkeys we'd seen earlier at the zoo.

Mr. Monkey Boy.

Like a monkey, Elliot likes to climb. He enjoys a good banana. And he's just as curious as the most famous simian character in children's literature: Curious George. "What's over there?" "What happens if I do this?" are two questions that seem to be constantly running through Elliot's head. But lately, I'm afraid his curiosity is getting a little out of hand.

This morning, for instance, I had a very difficult time getting him not to run off from me while at a crowded children's concert. At one point, he came dangerously close to an alley, although I was hot on his heels. Loudly and firmly, I scolded him and explained that his behavior was dangerous. His response? Laughter.

Likewise, at lunch, he laughed when I scolded him for engaging in monkey-like behavior. I returned from a quick trip to the kitchen to find my son spilling the last of his milk all over his tray.

A friend told me that this "laughing at authority" is a stage. That may be the case. But, I think it's a stage we need to nip in the bud...now. So, while we certainly won't be caging Mr. Monkey Boy, we may be trying time-outs or some other action to make him understand that his wild antics are not appreciated.

Bilingual Parenting -- What Do You Do When....

2011-07-22T13:56:00.040-04:00

This post is part of July's Bilingual Blogging Carnival, which will be published on Busy as a Bee in Paris on July 28.

The web is a wonderful place for a parent like me -- full of resources, tips and a community of people who are also raising their children in more than one language. For me, it's English (as you might have guessed) and Spanish. Since Spanish is not my native language, I find myself with a lot of questions and doubts -- and the web has come to the rescue many times.

I've used the extensive dictionaries on WordReference.com to look up unknown words and been impressed by the site's friendly forum participants who have provided quick and expert input into "what's the best way to say X?" I've realized that small doses of YouTube clips from shows like Plaza Sésamo give my turning-two-in-September son Elliot a chance to hear native speakers (like Elmo!). He's currently enthralled by "Elmo Va al Baño," which I'm hoping will not only enhance his Spanish but encourage him to use the potty seat we just purchased. And, I've turned time and time again to sites like Multilingual Living to see what other bilingual parents are doing and thinking.

But sometimes, I have very specific questions. So, in this post, I'm doing something different: turning to the community of bilingual parents to see how you handle specific situations, especially with a child whose language skills are just developing. Any input is greatly appreciated.

What do you do when your child...

Responds in the "wrong" language: Although I know this goes against the standard approaches, I do not speak exclusively in Spanish to Elliot because I've decided this just doesn't worliot answers in English when I'm speaking to him in Spanish? Of course, at this point in his language development, his response is typically one word. For example, if I ask him in Spanish what he'd like to eat, he's likely to answer "food" -- a very helpful response:-)

Translates: Elliot will often encapsulate a phrase in Spanish into one word in English. For example, if tell him in Spanish that we can't play any longer because we have to go in the house to cook, he'll often say "cook" in English. So, I'll usually say to him, "That's right, we need to cook" in both languages to acknowledge that what he said is correct and to remind him that we know two ways to say it. Is this the right approach?

Mixes languages: Yesterday, while handing me the bottle of bubbles, he indicated that we weren't done blowing them. "More pompas" he demanded. Again, I took the two-language approach: "You want more bubbles?" "¿Quieres más pompas?" My thought is that if he hears the way the words should go together, he's more likely to eventually realize which combinations are correct. Is this how you would handle this situation?

Thanks in advance for any input. I love knowing that the web is inhabited by so many other people like me who feel that one language is just not enough:-)

Lake Michigan & the "Yucky Bugs"

2011-07-19T12:58:00.001-04:00

"Yuck-y bugs. Yuck-y bugs. Yuck-y bugs," Elliot repeated, shaking his head as we walked down our street hand-in-hand this morning.

"Honey, I think we left the yucky bugs at the lake."

Elliot seems to have been slightly traumatized by his Lake Michigan experience with the biting black flies that pestered us during our first visit to the beach. Or, he just enjoys saying the phrase, which is adorable when it comes out of his mouth. I hope it's the latter, as I don't want his sole memory of our long weekend in the beach town of Saugatuck to revolve around having his sand play interrupted by nasty insects.

After all, we made a lot of positive memories during our mini-vacation. We went on several family bike rides through waterfront neighborhoods, with Elliot wearing his superhero-festooned helmet and perched comfortably on the handlebar seat on Tim's bike. On one ride, we even surprised a deer enjoying a mid-morning lawn snack.

When the flies weren't an issue (which was most of the time), Elliot enjoyed the beach -- filling his bucket with sand, watching the kites in the sky and bravely wading into the frigid water....only to rush back out when the big (to him) waves came crashing in.

Since we were on vacation, we had "ee-cee" every night, an experience that was made even more pleasurable by the street side sightings of the ice cream parlor's mascot, a person dressed in an inflatable "chocolate moose" costume. Elliot delighted in hanging over the edge of his stroller looking for the "moof."

While on vacation, bedtime became more flexible...which fortunately led to a later rising time in the morning. On our last night, we let Elliot stay up really late and enjoy sunset on the beach with Mommy and Daddy. Of course, he was more interested in his dump truck, but I loved the experience of witnessing this magnificent natural phenomenon with the two boys I love.

My Little Chatterbox!

2011-07-13T14:40:00.089-04:00

"He sure is a little parrot," my dad said the other day when we went to pick up Elliot after his successful sleep-over experience. Just a few weeks ago, I never would have described Elliot in this way. But now, it's absolutely true. As Elliot's language skills develop by leaps and bounds, I'm starting to notice some common themes:

Parroting: My baby is definitely starting to repeat much of what he hears, even more reason to be careful with the language we use around him. I'm still getting used to hearing such varied phrases as "golf course" and "rice cooker" coming out in Elliot's sweet little voice. When Elliot learns a new word, he often repeats it several times within a short time span. It seems like he's trying to imprint the word upon his brain...in the same way that we adults are told to repeat the names of new acquaintances several times to remember them.

One-Word Repeating: Sometimes, it almost seems that his brain gets stuck on a certain word. Or, more likely, there are certain words -- or objects and people they represent -- that just excite him. For example, there was a truck in front of our house yesterday. This I know because Elliot said "tuck" at least 72 times in a row...much to the amusement of the tree-trimming crew who owned it.

The Sponge Effect: Everyone says that kids are like sponges -- while at first they don't say much, they are taking it all in. I'm definitely finding this to be true. Suddenly, Elliot is accurately using all sorts of words that he's heard, but that I didn't quite realize he knew. When I showed him a picture and asked who was in it, he was able to identify his "big kid" friend Sean from a picture, and say that Sean was standing in front of a "sheep." Every morning, he now wants to wear his "din-saur" shirt. (Not only did I not know that he knew this word, but I thought he'd forgotten about this winter shirt that is hidden away in his closet).

Translation: This to me is the oddest part of Elliot's language acquisition. Often, he repeats words in Spanish after me in the same way he does English words. But, other times, he translates into English. This morning, I told him in Spanish that we had some grapes for the concert we were about to attend. Five minutes later, when we got in the car, he started reaching forward as though he wanted something. When I asked what he wanted, he said "grapes," a word I hadn't heard before. In the same vein, during a recent trip to the produce market, I asked him if he wanted to try "watermelon." "Aqua" he said -- making the connection between the two languages in his mind, even though "aqua" is not part of the Spanish word for watermelon.

Regardless, he refused to try the fruit - proving that all kids do not love watermelon, no matter what you call it!

What a Big Boy!

2011-07-11T14:18:00.001-04:00

"What a cutie" said my mom's friend, indicating a shy Elliot who was clinging to me as I held him in my arms. "How old is he - about 3?"

"No, he'll be two in two months."

"Wow! What a big boy!" she said, echoing something I've heard since Elliot was an infant. "And Mom is so tiny," she continued.

While I wouldn't actually call myself "tiny," I'm not a large person. Elliot, on the other hand, has consistently been at the 90th percentile for height and appears to be heading for a tall and thin future....just like his birth parents.

However, I saw no need to mention this to my mom's friend. After all, she didn't ask me -- nor would she necessarily care -- how Elliot came to be my son. As I've mentioned before, the fact that Elliot joined our family through adoption is something I think about less and less on a daily basis as he gets older. It used to be much more top-of-mind, especially in the long months before the adoption was finalized. And, when Elliot was a baby, I felt a little bit different when all the other new moms talked about breastfeeding or their birth experiences and I had nothing to add. In those early days, I probably would have felt the need to explain that Elliot is tall because his birth parents are.

But, no longer.

However, sometimes I wonder what will happen if Elliot continues on his current path and looks like he's 7 when he's 5, 15 when he's 12, etc. I suspect I'll get questions along the lines of "Is your husband tall?" from strangers and casual acquaintances.

I'm not really sure how I'll answer, but I suspect the reply won't include the word "adoption." Not because it's a "deep dark secret" in any way, but simply because I don't want "adopted" to be a word that defines my son. It's how he became my son, not who he is.

Once he's old enough, it will be his story to tell...and he can decide when, to whom and in what context to tell it. Until then, I'm sure I'll think of something when the situation arises.

Swimming Fun with Elliot

2011-07-07T15:46:00.001-04:00

Before this week, Elliot's bathing suit wearing so far this summer had pretty much been limited to dips in the kiddy pool. Refreshing? Yes. A real taste of swimming? Not so much.

While he still hasn't done any hard-core swimming, we've had both pool and lake experiences in the past two days that have exposed my baby a little bit more to the "aqua" -- as Elliot usually calls it.

Yesterday, we had the opportunity to go to a friend's neighborhood beach, which was perfectly-sized for a toddler. Elliot had a ball playing with her two pre-teen kids, who pretended to chase him, showed him a fish in a bucket and held his hand to walk along the dock. Because of his fascination with the "big kids," my baby was brave enough to wade in water up to his thighs (wearing his life jacket, of course). Elliot's experience was enhanced by the giant front-end loader and dump truck we'd brought along and the fact that Miss Maureen seemed to like dump trucks almost as much as Elliot did!

This morning, we found ourselves in a different sort of "aqua" -- with Grandma at her swim club. As with yesterday, I wouldn't say that what Elliot did really qualified as "swimming." He went from the in-ground kiddy pool, where he played with balls, to the stairs of the shallow end of the big pool, where he poured water from one cup into another (which Grandma had the foresight to find after I forgot to bring toys). And, with a big grin on his face, he watched the older kids who were bopping around while playing water games.

As a child, I spent a lot of time in the water, and I want Elliot to have the same positive experiences. That's one of the reasons I'm excited about our next adventure -- when we head off to the "big waters" of Lake Michigan. Until then, you'll find us swimming in the backyard kiddy pool - the one with the giant sun shade!

So Long, Lion Mat!

2011-07-05T14:23:00.001-04:00

Elliot stood at the doorway, crying, as his 10-week-old cousin, aunt and uncle walked to their car. Was my baby upset that our family fun had come to an end? No. I'm fairly certain that he was upset because his once-beloved lion mat was also leaving.

It made no sense. While the lion mat had been his favorite infant toy, Elliot hadn't seen it in at least a year...as it had been in hiding in the basement. We'd moved it there because my active toddler had long since outgrown the need to lie on his back on the brightly colored mat adorned with a giant lion while swatting and kicking at the polka-dotted and striped jungle animals hanging above. In fact, he wouldn't have been able to fit if he'd tried. However, watching his baby cousin wiggle his tiny feet and hands while lying on the lion mat seemed to bring back memories for my son.

And now, Elliot didn't want to part with this once-beloved toy. For some strange reason, neither did I, although I knew that giving it to my new nephew made far more sense than leaving it to rot in the basement.

I really don't know why I felt so nostalgic about this particular baby toy. After all, I'd sold his Exersaucer and bouncy seat without a moment's thought. But, Elliot had never enjoyed those toys the way he did his lion mat. My reluctance to part with the lion mat was definitely not a sign that I was longing for a time when my boy was a baby. Seeing his baby cousin reminded me why I've always found infants to be a little boring -- as awful as that may sound -- except for when the infant was my Elliot.

But, maybe it is because I do sometimes think that he's growing up so fast. Now just two months short of two years old, he's an active, curious, silly, smart, sweet and lovable toddler. But occasionally, I see flashes of what he'll look like when he's four or five. Sometimes, I think about how I'll feel when he starts preschool. And then, at the oddest moments, my mind jumps ahead -- past soccer, Little League and school plays -- to how I'd feel if my Elliot wanted to spend a semester abroad in high school (in a Spanish-speaking country, of course!) or if he moved somewhere far away as an adult.

I know, I know...I have at least a year before I need to worry about preschool, much less any of the other future events that pop into my head at the oddest moments. And, as Elliot becomes ready for each new step in his life, I plan to be ready with him.

In the meantime, getting rid of the lion mat was a positive step in our "de-cluttering" efforts. And, it's nice to know that the jungle fun will stay in the family...at least for a short while.

A Not-So-Extraordinary (in a good way) Visit from Elliot's Birth Parents

2011-06-29T14:00:00.004-04:00

A few days ago, we had some visitors: Elliot's birth parents, along with his birth mother's parents and brother. These visits are at the core of what makes our adoption open (and what everyone seems to find so unusual), so it seems they should be blog-worthy. But, I find that I really don't have much to say.

I got a new recipe for kale from Elliot's birth mother, and enjoyed some delicious strawberry shortcake courtesy of her mom. But, I suspect that's not very interesting to readers of this blog.

Where is the drama? The misunderstandings? The subtle challenges to the fact that Tim and I are Elliot's parents?

There really weren't any.

I'll admit it: their visits (especially the "all-family" ones), are always preceded by a little bit of stress for me. But, last time I had my family over, I felt the same way. Afterward I did find myself wondering what exactly he/she meant by something that was said or some action that was or wasn't taken. But again, I tend to do this sort of mental rehashing when just about anyone comes over...it's just the way I am.

Occasionally, I wonder what they get out of the visits, aside from knowing that Elliot is well and happy. I realize that I will never understand what Elliot's birth parents went through to make their decision or what's in their hearts when they see him. I sometimes question why they seem more content to sort of watch Elliot than to interact with him, then I remind myself that they really aren't "kid" people. And that's okay. Honestly, every time that Tim and I see Elliot's birth parents it reaffirms one thing for us: they really made the right decision in deciding not to parent...and I continue to be thankful that they were wise and courageous enough to realize this. I do hope that seeing Elliot provides them with the same sort of affirmation and the knowledge that he is exactly where he should be.

That's what it comes down to for me. Elliot is where he should be -- in his home with his parents, Tim and me. Sometimes, he has some "very special visitors." But, their visits are feeling less and less extraordinary.

And that's a good thing.

My Baby's Bilingual Babbling

2011-06-27T15:15:00.002-04:00

"Aqua," Elliot enthusiastically proclaims as he tries to lift the over-sized watering can toward the flowers. "Heavy," he adds, when he realizes he can't get it to budge.

"¿Te ayudo?" I ask in Spanish to see if he wants my assistance. "Help" is his answer.

Throughout the day, Elliot and I speak a somewhat strange mixture of English and Spanish. Of course, since his 22-month old vocabulary is quite limited, I do most of the talking. And, since English is my native language (and the only one my husband Tim speaks), Elliot definitely gets a lot more English than Spanish.

But, it's fascinating to see just how much Spanish he understands, and even more gratifying when he chooses to use words in Spanish. After all, my commitment to speaking Spanish with Elliot every day (but not exclusively) is somewhat of an experiment. And, while it's still early, I do think it's paying off.

To Elliot, water is almost always "agua." Corn is usually "maiz." And, the lids of the containers and bottles he so enjoys taking on and off are usually referred to as "tapas." It's hard to figure out why the Spanish words take precedence for these items. Does he hear these words more in Spanish? Did he learn them first in Spanish? Are the Spanish versions just more fun to say? I'll probably never know.

I also don't understand why he is already doing something I've noticed among older kids whose parents speak another language to them: answering in English. Although in Elliot's case, it's really more like summarizing. If I tell him in Spanish that we need to go inside the house to make dinner, he'll invariably proclaim "cook." While I sometimes wish he'd echo the phrase in Spanish, I'm happy that he at least understands.

Of course, I don't always understand him. As with any toddler, it sometimes takes a few tries to correctly guess the concept he's trying to communicate. Somehow, when Elliot says them, the English words "bubble" and "lawnmower" sound quite a bit alike. And there's the added challenge of trying to figure out which language he's speaking. The other day, for example, he was pounding the damp grass repeatedly while saying something that sounded sort of like "how." I finally realized he was pronouncing just the middle syllable of the "mojado," the Spanish word for "wet."

So with Elliot, it's often somewhat of a linguistic guessing game... but one I'm happy to play.

This post is part of the Bilingual Blogging Carnival. If you're interested in the topic of bilingual parenting, check out other great posts here.

BYE!

2011-06-22T14:32:00.001-04:00

I'll admit it: I'm not a huge fan of the classic children's book Goodnight Moon. Saying good night to the picture on the wall, the "old lady whispering hush" and the mittens drying on the mitten rack has always struck me as a wee bit tedious.

But, Elliot loves it. And, I'm starting to see why: he does the same thing. Well, almost.

He doesn't say good night (to anything or anybody) before going to bed. But, he does -- enthusiastically and repeatedly -- say "bye" to just about anything and anyone he encounters lately. He says bye to the vacuum cleaner and washing machine when we leave the laundry room. The car when we leave it to go into a store. And, he likes to bid adieu to the downspout when he walks by it.

Yesterday, when we were leaving the house, he ducked into the hallway to get a better look at Leo the Cat so that he could wave and tell him "bye." So sweet. At the zoo the other day, nearly all of the animals we visited got a special wave and parting greeting.

And of course, he waves and often says goodbye to random people we pass in public, although he's sometimes a bit too shy to say anything to the cashier when we're leaving a store. But, he can usually be counted on for a wave.

My baby has two types of waves -- both equally cute (from my admittedly not unbiased perspective). There's the whole arm wave, and then there's the hand-only wave, which involves a rapid and floppy wrist motion.

A good thing about Elliot's recent "bye" phase is that I can use it as a way to tell him that we're moving on, e.g., "say goodbye to the hippos." We even tried it last night to tell him that it really was time to go to bed - "say goodbye to your train."

He did...then took it off the toy shelf again.

Bye, Bye Bottle...Better Late than Never?

2011-06-20T14:05:00.002-04:00

We've been talking about getting rid of it for some time. I purposely didn't even bring up the topic at Elliot's last doctor's visit for fear of being scolded. When I mentioned it to a friend the other day, she said, "Yeah, Elliot really is old for that."

The before-bed bottle. Experts say you should wean your child from the bottle at a year. We'd long since stopping giving Elliot anything but a sippy cup during the day. But, the nighttime bottle had been a different story. We tried to eliminate it a few times, but ended up giving in, in part because we felt that Elliot wasn't getting his recommended 16-24 ounces of milk per day without the bottle. And frankly, sometimes it's easier not to introduce change to the life of a routine-loving toddler.

But, sometimes, you just need to do it. That's what Tim and I decided on Friday as we watched our baby chug down nearly eight ounces of milk at dinner...more than he used to drink at breakfast, lunch and dinner combined. We whispered to each other, "Perhaps tonight is the night."

Bye, bye, bottle.

We decided not to go "cold turkey" and completely stop his dairy nightcap. Instead, we served it to him in his new purple sippy cup (after hiding all the bottles). Elliot cried. He whined. He walked over to the refrigerator and indicated that he wanted it opened, then pointed to the carton of milk. "That's what's in your cup, honey," Tim said.

But, Elliot wasn't having it. He walked over to where we keep the bottles and reached up toward the upper cabinet. I tried to explain our rationale by telling him, "I know change can be hard. But, Mommy and Daddy both think it's time that you can drink your milk before bed like a big boy."

He looked so sad that Tim and I almost gave in. But, we held firm, knowing that we need to set the rules, not be ruled by our toddler. Then, Elliot got mad and starting banging against objects in anger. Several times, we took the cup away from him and put it in the fridge. But, he cried and indicated that he wanted it. Finally, after his bedtime had come and gone, he settled down into Tim's lap and drank out of his sippy cup.

With a few variations (my lap, more crying, some stomping and an attempt to drink the milk without being seen by us), this scene repeated itself on nights two and three. "It's a process," I told Tim. "We can't expect him to accept this change happily overnight."

But hopefully, the struggle won't last too much longer.

Until I Had a Toddler

2011-06-16T14:30:00.001-04:00

Until I had a toddler, I never realized that...

- Construction (or lawn mowing, roofing or garbage collecting) could be a spectator sport.

- How many types of trucks exist on the roads (and how similar many of them look).

- I could spend so much time looking at -- and talking about -- the washing machine.

- Two different words in two languages -- clock and caca (poop) -- could both sound so much like a vulgar term for a male body part.

- Downspouts and gas meters could be so interesting to someone.

- My attention span could seem so long in comparison to someone else's.

- Something that brought great joy one day (the sandbox, the bathtub, etc.) could be so scary the next.

- Toddlers (especially your own) are so incredibly smart, silly and lovable!

My Little Clown

2011-06-14T12:39:00.003-04:00

With a silly smile, Elliot lifted the yellow squash to his mouth and tried to take a bite. "In the bag, Mister," I said. He joined me in laughing.

We moved on to the next aisle at the produce market and I gave him a peach to drop into the bag. To his mouth it went, as he looked at me with a conspiratorial smile. The red "peppa" (as Elliot calls peppers) also made it almost to his mouth, followed by a pear and an onion. Elliot knew he wasn't supposed to eat the produce before we got it home to wash, peel, cook, etc. But, he also knew that he was making me laugh. So, he pretended to eat each and every item, then let me take it away from him.

My baby has a sense of humor!

For me, it's a fascinating thing to observe, as I never really knew -- or gave much thought to -- when a sense of humor develops in a child. But, Elliot's is just getting more pronounced as he becomes so much more interactive and increasingly verbal.

I love when Elliot and I moo like cows at each other during meals. I love when he covers his eyes and tries to run away when I attempt to apply his sunscreen. I love listening to Elliot's shrieks and giggles when Tim reads him the book "Kisses for Daddy," which involves Tim giving Elliot a number of goofy "animal" kisses. And, it's hard not to laugh when I watch Elliot crack himself up and suddenly start to run around in circles and laugh for reasons I can only imagine.

I love, love, love my little Elliot and I love that he has such a cute little sense of humor.

A Different View of the World

2011-06-10T13:47:00.002-04:00

I look down at the gaping, 6-foot deep hole running the length of our house. I think "unexpected expense to repair a leaking wall," "what a hassle," "oh, no, we'll have to plant new grass and shrubs."

But to Elliot, it's pure delight. "Ee-ee-ee," he shrieks with excitement, as he points to the workers engaged in manual labor. He shows me the wheelbarrows, the dirt, then the workers again. To my baby, this hole is the most exciting thing he's seen in a long time.

Likewise, the dumpster parked in our street. Yesterday, we took at least five curbside visits to admire the dirt, uprooted bush and huge tree roots inside. Without Elliot, I of course would never have taken a glance, but I found myself explaining and re-explaining what we were seeing to my excited baby.

Elliot certainly sees the world from a different perspective.

The other day, I came home with my toenails brightly painted after a pedicure. Elliot was so excited about the beautiful color that he ran around, waving his arms in a sort of dance he does when he's happy. He kept pointing at, and trying to touch, my toes. I really don't know what he's thinking, but he knows what he likes.

"Aqua" as he calls water, much to my delight. Trucks, fire engines and just about any type of large vehicle. Lawnmowers. Sticks he can pick up as we walk along the sidewalk. Other children. The paper shredder. The cow on the carton of milk. The picture of raspberries on the box of cereal (and of course, the real thing). The list goes on and on.

Elliot notices so many things that I'd never even look at...and so many of them give him great joy. If there's a lesson in this, it's a simple one: pay attention to the world around you; you never know when you'll see something that will make you smile.

One Morning, Many Moods

2011-06-07T13:42:00.001-04:00

This morning, I was roused by the joyful sounds of Elliot playing in his crib. He was in a silly mood, and we spent about 10 minutes taking turns banging on his crib mattress, honking each others' noses and playing a game of push and pull through his crib railings. "Oh, yay," I thought, "my baby is in a good mood."

Which he was as he played with Leo the Cat, ate his breakfast and even let me exchange his favorite vehicle-themed pjs for shorts and a t-shirt. Elliot's high spirits continued through our trip to the vitamin store, where he and another toddler took turns giving each other a ball and waving.

Then, we got to the park, where we were to meet other moms and kids for a morning of fun. I looked around. Sand boxes! A large wooden play structure! Splash park! This was going to be fun.

Which it was...sort of. Elliot was really, really intrigued by the splash park, so I quickly changed him into his new swimming trunks and shirt. He approached the sprinklers and sprayers with trepidation. Then, he ran back to me. I tried to introduce him slowly to the concept by holding his hand and pointing out all the other kids who were having such a great time. But, it was a "no go." Elliot was scared...which I sort of expected.

So, off we went to the sandbox, which I knew he'd love. Except that today, he didn't. He accepted another mom's offer of a plastic front loader. But, he refused to take it into the sand. Instead, he sort of stood on the sidelines watching everyone else.Which was okay...until he started walking away from me, handing me our bag as though he wanted to leave and trying to put his shoes on. Of course, when I tried to help him put his shoes on, he cried. When I walked with him in the general direction he was headed, he walked the other way. And, when I picked up our bag, he started to scream.

Finally, after a quick picnic lunch and another failed try at the splash park, we headed home. Once in the car, he was quite happy as we passed countless trucks of all shapes and sizes. At home, I let him push his lawnmower around on the driveway for a few minutes, then ushered him into the house...to screams and cries, which continued until I put him into bed.

And now, he's quiet, getting some much-needed sleep. Let's hope he's back in a good mood this afternoon!

Too Young to Appreciate History?

2011-06-02T13:30:00.026-04:00

Billed as an "80-acre time machine" filled with sights and sounds of America's past, Greenfield Village is one of metro Detroit's biggest tourist attractions. Yesterday morning, a friend and I took Elliot and her son to experience the village. Now, I didn't think that Elliot would be interested in Thomas Edison's lab or the Wright Brothers' bicycle shop. I knew he wouldn't care about early American farming or experiencing the house where Noah Webster wrote his famous dictionary. But, I thought we'd spend a few hours meandering around while admiring the horse-drawn carriages and the steam engines.

As with many things toddler, that didn't exactly happen.

The day was gorgeous and started out on a positive note as Elliot frolicked around the entrance-way fountain while waiting for his friend Lukas. He alternated between admiring the fountain and reading Farm, his simply-titled book celebrating combine harvesters and tractors (which I've realized we left at Greenfield Village for another child to find and enjoy). Lukas arrived, and we put both boys in the wagon. So far, so good...although 50+ pounds of toddler weight is quite a bit to pull.

However, it turned out the pulling didn't last long. While Lukas calmly enjoyed the ride and the sights, Elliot turned obstinate. He didn't want to ride in the wagon, so I let him out. But, he also didn't want to walk in the direction that everyone else did. When I left him with my friend for approximately two minutes to go to the bathroom, my baby's screams and cries could be heard from miles around.

Both boys were transfixed by the historical steam engines, so we decided to go for a ride. That would seem like a good idea, right? Not to Elliot. Shortly after boarding the train, we had to get off because Elliot's ear-piercing screams were making the experience less-than-enjoyable for our fellow passengers. Of course, as soon as we got off the train, he was very interested in watching it, pointing while making his excited "eek, eek" sound. Then, I ended up having to mostly carry a screaming and resistant toddler back to where our wagon and stroller were parked, as I just couldn't get him to walk in the right direction.

Elliot enjoyed watching the horses pull carriages full of tourists. But really, he liked the drinking fountains better. He enjoyed the oversized wheels on some sort of old-fashioned farm implement, but it held his attention for a very short while. He liked the waterwheel and ducks, but didn't want to admire them from the same vantage point as everyone else. He really enjoyed lunch, but resisted quite loudly when it was time to leave.

Frustrating!

I try to tell myself that Elliot doesn't realize what he "should" be looking at when we take him to an attraction. So to him, the murky pond was more interesting than the Model Ts; the large pile of horse poop was far more fascinating anything that an adult would find interesting. But, I wish he would be a little more cooperative.

People tell me it's probably a phase...and I hope they're right. But, time will tell. In the meantime, I'll try to go into new experiences with Elliot without expectations of what he will or should enjoy...although I'll continue to work on getting him to follow directions a little better.

A Weekend Without My Baby

2011-05-31T13:40:00.002-04:00

I ran through the lanes of parked cars waiting for arriving passengers and darted into the car. Quickly, I got settled into the front seat, then turned around. My Elliot! Oh, how happy I was to see my Elliot. He gave me the cutest little smile.

"He looks so big," I exclaimed, admiring the sturdy legs sticking out of his khaki shorts.

"That's what I think every time I travel," Tim replied.

I'd only been gone three nights, but my baby truly looked like more of a "big boy" than he had just a few days ago. Then, he started "eee-eee-eeeing" with excitement as he looked out the window at the airport traffic - buses, trucks, SUVs galore. And I realized that I hadn't heard that oh-so-familiar noise for almost four days.

I was back home with my baby.

For the first time since he'd been born, I'd spent more than one night away from my Elliot. Until this trip, the sum total of the nights I'd spent away from him had been three...until I decided to take a three-night, four-day hiking vacation by myself. I knew it would be a good thing for all of us, but it felt weird...especially the day I left. But, as expected, I had a wonderful time hiking in the Green Mountains of Vermont. And more importantly, I enjoyed some much-needed "me" time.

While I was away, Tim and Elliot enjoyed a boys' weekend. Elliot got to see both big brothers and Tim's dad. They went to a family birthday party and the park. He picked up a new word -- "ope" for open. And, Elliot even got to ride in a construction truck -- something I felt bad for missing.

But, I know that I can't be there for every single "first" in Elliot's young life, although I'm grateful I'm able to be there for so many of them. And, since motherhood can be so all-consuming (especially for someone like me who doesn't go to work each day), it's important for me to take time for myself and remember who I am when I'm not "Mommy." I did that this weekend, and Elliot got to spend a lot of quality time with Daddy.

"It's always fun to go to new places and have new experiences," I told Elliot as we were cuddling this morning. "But, it's even better to come home."

Finding His Voice

2011-05-26T15:51:00.000-04:00

"1, 2, 3..." I said this morning, while counting something-or-other.

"4!" exclaimed Elliot, much to my surprise. Then, a few minutes later, he chimed in (at just about the right spot) with "8."

Wow -- my baby is learning to count! And the look of pride on his face when I said "good job" was absolutely priceless.

While Elliot is still not a chatterbox, he is starting to find his voice -- and what a cute little voice it is. Of course, much of what he chooses to say seems somewhat random. "Door," he'll shout, over and over again, pointing sometimes to a door in the house or sometimes to the door of a random car in a parking lot. "Car" he'll usually say when he gets his hands on my keys. "Off" he'll exclaim, bringing me the remote control when the TV is not on. "Gato" he'll at times respond when I show him his favorite newspaper comic, Garfield, although he never calls Leo the Cat either a "gato" or a "cat."

He seems to like the concept of opposites, although he's often confused. "Up/down," "hot/cold" often come out of his mouth together. While he knows the oven is "hot," whatever comes out of it is usually deemed "cold" when it's too warm for him to eat.

For some reason, "yes" doesn't seem to be part of Elliot's vocabulary. Occasionally, he'll respond to a question in Spanish, "Do you want to see Ricas Frutas" (his favorite Plaza Sesamo video), with "si." But, most either/or questions get a decided "no." Yesterday, at the end of a meal, I asked my baby if he wanted more rice. "Yes" or "no," I prompted, with exaggerated head movements for emphasis. "No, no, no," he proclaimed, shaking his head enthusiastically from side to side. Of course, when I started to take away his bowl, he cried...because "yes" was what he'd meant.

Elliot clearly understands far, far more words -- in both English and Spanish -- than he uses. He still continues to use many words of his own invention -- many of which he says quite deliberately and repeatedly. More and more, it's obvious that Elliot gets frustrated when he can't get his message across.

The process of language acquisition is fascinating to observe. And it's all leading up to something I'm eagerly awaiting -- having a conversation with my son.

Kids Cause Conversation

2011-05-24T13:53:00.002-04:00

On the sociability scale, I'm somewhere in the middle. I'm definitely not a shy introvert. But, I'm not the type of person who goes out of my way to talk to everyone I encounter, either.

At least I wasn't, until Elliot came along. I still don't deliberately try to talk to everyone I see. However, with an adorable and curious toddler in the wagon, stroller or shopping cart, or walking along beside me "mowing" the sidewalk with his toy lawnmower, conversation just seems to happen.

In the last few weeks as the warmer weather has led to more outdoor activity, I've met neighbors I'd never before encountered...despite living on the same street for nearly six years. I've talked to garbage collectors, construction crews and random people doing yard work, usually to explain that the reason we've stopped and are staring at them is because Elliot finds them fascinating. I've waved to firefighters, bus drivers and truckers, all of whom wave at Elliot when they notice that he's enthralled with their vehicle...although he's usually in too much of a "truck daze" to wave back.

And of course, there are the nearly daily conversations with fellow parents at the park, cashiers at a variety of stores and people standing in the check-out line with us. Today, for example, an older man at a garden center asked how old Elliot was and seemed shocked to find that he's a few months shy of two. "Wow...he's a big guy. And he doesn't miss anything, does he?" No, he certainly doesn't.

And with Elliot, I don't miss out on the opportunity to talk to anyone who happens to cross my path...which really isn't a bad thing. Sometimes, you hear things that make you realize how lucky you are, as when the same man told me that during his time working with Mother Teresa in Calcutta, she always said, "Children are a blessing from God."

Amen to that.

A Few Random Things I've Learned from Motherhood

2011-05-20T13:50:00.001-04:00

With 20 months of experience under my belt, I am by no means an expert when it comes to motherhood. However, I have learned a few things. Here, in no particular order, are five extremely random things I've learned in my time as a mother:

Rice is the messiest food of all. It's one of Elliot's favorites, and I've found that it is about impossible to completely remove from the kitchen floor. And, it doesn't stay contained to the kitchen, especially when Elliot "helps" me sweep. I frequently find mushed and dirty grains of rice all around the house, in Elliot's toys and stuck to our clothes.

It's heartbreaking to watch your baby be sick. When Elliot is sick, it's heartbreaking to watch him suffer. It's obvious he feels miserable, but he can't tell me what's wrong. And, it's even harder knowing that there's a pretty good chance that I'll be the next to come down with whatever is ailing him!

A toddler's memory is short. Sometimes, I feel awful when Elliot breaks down into hysterics over something silly, like the fact that I'm leaving him at Grandma and Poppy's to play for a few hours. But, I tell myself 1. it's good for him, and 2. he won't remember how upset he was -- either in the short-term or the long-term.

The only constant is change. Just when I think I don't need to worry about something because Elliot can't open it, reach it, etc....he can. Just when I think I'll go crazy if I have to read his favorite book one more time, he has a new favorite. Just when we buy him butterflies for his room, his fascination-with butterflies phase seems to come to an end. And, I guessing that by the time I finally know all the truck names, he will be on to something new.

You don't realize your capacity for love until you are a parent. I've said this before, but it's worth repeating. Loving your child is a beautiful thing.

My Poor Baby

2011-05-18T12:54:00.001-04:00

Elliot looks up at me with red-rimmed eyes, which seem to beg me to do something. He coughs...again. His coughs start to cascade and I'm worried that he's going to vomit. I rub my baby's back, smooth his hair and cuddle him close.

My poor baby has not feeling well. In fact, "miserable" was the word that the doctor used the other day when she saw Elliot with his gunky eyes, nose-like-a-faucet, nasty cough and crying...made much worse by his general hysteria at being at the doctor's office. Taking his temperature using the totally non-invasive and non-painful underarm method is not at all easy at home. In the doctor's office, in his "not at all having one of his best days" condition, it almost caused my poor Elliot to go into hysterics.

The doctor's diagnosis was complicated by the fact that Elliot would just not cooperate. But, his throat "looks awful," his tonsils are huge, he might have an ear infection. Pinkeye is also a possibility. Or, it could just be "bug that's going around."

Whatever the case, it's been a long few days...and longer nights as Elliot wakes up repeatedly crying and coughing. It's heartbreaking to see him feeling so awful. And, it's even harder since we seem to be swapping germs and I'm feeling far less than 100% myself. To make matters worse, Tim is traveling, so the full burden of caring for our sick baby falls on me.

The good news is that Elliot is starting to act more like himself -- playful and silly -- and his crying fits are lessening. So, I think that my poor baby is on the mend. Here's hoping for a good night's sleep tonight -- we could both really use it.

Yucky, yucky, yucky!

2011-05-12T13:10:00.001-04:00

As Elliot is starting to talk more, his most-uttered sound remains the same: "kk..kk...kk." In Elliot-speak, this signifies "yucky."

At home, he constantly picks up cat hair and other odds and ends off the carpeting, hands them to me with great satisfaction and utters "kk...kk...kk." I always make a point of thanking him and throwing away whatever object he hands me.

Perhaps the positive reinforcement is why Elliot also feels compelled to pick up all kinds of things at the park -- pretzel remnants, an abandoned sock, coffee cups -- and hand them to me (even as I tell him, "Don't touch that. It's dirty.") Whenever possible, we walk together to a trash can and dispose of the yuckiness.

Lately, his definition of yucky seems to be growing. A rock on the sidewalk -- yucky. A random wood chip amongst a mound of millions under a park jungle gym -- yucky. Any sort of pile of dirt he can find requires him to tell me it's yucky -- after he's touched it and before he gives me his hand to remove the dirt.

But, yesterday, he found something that was really yucky. As we were sitting on the floor reading a story together, he suddenly started pointing to my knee and making his patented "kk...kk...kk" sound. Now, I'll admit: my knees are not my best feature. But, hearing them called "yucky" does make me wonder what my baby is thinking.

"Elliot is Ruining My Mother's Day"

2011-05-09T14:57:00.001-04:00

Yes, that's right. "Elliot is ruining my Mother's Day." This ridiculous statement actually came out of my mouth at one point yesterday...I believe it was during my son's 17th or 18th crying fit of the day.

And yes, I felt silly as soon as I realized what I'd said. Toddlers have tantrums, especially when they are cutting molars, getting over a lingering cold and not napping as long as they should be. Of course, Elliot had no idea that yesterday was Mother's Day and that he should be on his best behavior.

But still.

Although I knew it was improbable, I was really hoping that Mother's Day would finally be the day that Elliot said "Mommy." After all, he's been excitedly saying "Daddy" for months, and his growing vocabulary now includes words like "rice" and "down" (often using when we're ascending). Perhaps I also had the idealized notion that yesterday would be one of those days when my baby would unexpectedly give me a kiss...something that happens quite infrequently. But, these things were just not to be. Instead, he cried a lot and I started feeling really run-down and lethargic from the cold that Elliot passed on to me.

Tim, Elliot and I went to the zoo, something I'd been wanting to do. The weather was warm, the animals were active, the grounds looked great. But, it felt like we were continually fighting against Elliot -- trying to get him to move on to the next thing or preventing his attempts to climb into the animal enclosures. At one point, I saw a girl about his age suddenly stick her chest forward, then crumble to the ground in a slow, undulating motion. As her dad picked up his crying kid, I didn't think, "Oh, that poor guy" or "I wonder what's wrong with her." Nope. I thought: "Oh, good...Elliot isn't the only one."

How silly is that?

The evening brought a get-together with my parents, one of my sisters and her family. Elliot had fun playing with his cousins and eating Thai food. But, interspersed with the fun were many, many instances in which he fell to the ground and started crying for no apparent reason.

But, there was also the moment he came running to me, excitedly waving his arms, to give me a hug. There was the pride I felt in watching him eat his sherbet all by himself with a spoon. There were the playful moments of dancing around in a circle to the "music" of the garbage disposal; chasing him with his giraffe puppet and making him giggle so hard that I could almost see his emerging molars.

All in all, my Mother's Day wasn't a Hallmark card. Neither is motherhood. But, when I look back on my second Mother's Day, I think I'll remember the joy more than the frustration, the smiles more than the tears. And always, I'll remember how lucky I am to be Elliot's mom.

Bye Bye, Binky - the Prolonged Farewell

2011-05-06T10:00:00.056-04:00

Just outside one of our favorite parks, there is a special kind of tree: a Binky Tree. Here, local families leave pacifiers their children have outgrown, for the ever-popular binky fairy...if I'm not mistaken. Tim and I noticed this tree recently, and thought it was kind of cute. And a little bit odd. But, ultimately, if we wait until Elliot is old enough to understand the concept of hanging his binky on the tree for some sort of mystical creature, we'll be waiting until Elliot is REALLY too old for a pacifier. At 20 months, I think he's too old now. After all, it's hard to form words with a plug in your mouth, not to mention the fear of cross-bite and other consequences threatened by the "experts."

That's why, several months ago, we began a prolonged process of saying "bye, bye binky" that doesn't involve either fairies or trees.

First, we let him Elliot have his beloved binky around the house and in the car. But, we trained him to take it out of his month and leave it on the console any time we arrived at our driving destination. Step 2 was a little bit harder. Gradually, I started taking "Mr. Binky Bink" away from him during the day - sometimes, he'd notice and put up a fight; other days, it didn't faze him.

Now, we're down to using the paci only when he's sleeping. Like rocking with Pizza Bear, it has become part of our pre-bedtime routine. But, that routine will soon have to change. Next week, I think I'll start pulling the plug on the naptime num-num. Once we see give that crucial step some time, we'll move on to the final phase of our plan: sending our baby off to bed at night without his binky like a "big boy" -- albeit, a big boy surrounded by a menagerie of six stuffed bears and a monkey.

The Boy of My Dreams

2011-05-04T14:58:00.002-04:00

"You were talking in your sleep to Elliot again the other night," Tim mentioned the other day.

Again? I didn't realize I'd had multiple middle-of-the-night "conversations" with my baby. But, apparently, I had. In one, I repeated "no, no, no" (which won't surprise you if you are the parent of a toddler!); in another, we seemed to be playing at the park (a favorite activity during the day).

Talking in my sleep to my son. Weird? Well, sort of...although not as odd as the nighttime screaming I sometimes do. But, it really shouldn't be surprising. Elliot truly is always on my mind.

Lest you think I'm obsessed, everything I say or do does not revolve around my son. I freelance. I work out. I read. Tim and I (occasionally, I'll admit) spend time together without our baby. I go out with friends. And later this month, I'm setting off on my first post-Elliot, multi-night solo trip.

But honestly, right now, Elliot is pretty much at the center of everything. I think that's natural, since he's at a stage where he's so dependent on Tim and me. But, it goes beyond that. I still feel so incredibly fortunate to have Elliot as my son. While we think about his adoption less and less, the fact remains that we were lucky enough to be chosen to be Elliot's parents...although, at the same time, he's becoming the Elliot we love so much because we are his parents. I still occasionally think about how close I came to not being a mother...and shudder to think at all I would have missed. And, I look forward to all of the adventures, experiences and challenges yet to come.

If motherhood has taught me one thing, it's that the bond beyond a parent and child is incredibly precious and strong, regardless of whether the bond was formed biologically or via adoption or some other avenue.

Last night, while peeking in on our sleeping son, Tim said to me, "He has no idea." And Elliot really doesn't have any idea -- of how much we love him, of how important he is to us, of how much joy he's brought to our lives in just 20 months. So, even though I initially thought I wanted a girl, I'm so glad I ended up with the boy of my dreams.

Doubts & Hope on our Bilingual Journey

2011-04-29T14:04:00.002-04:00

Am I doing this "wrong?" Is he ever going to say more words in Spanish? Is it silly to speak to my son in Spanish when 1. it's not my native language and 2. I don't do it exclusively?

Sometimes, I wonder. Sometimes, I'm plagued with doubt about my foray into sharing my love of the Spanish language with my 20-month-old son, Elliot.

But, then again. Wow -- he can point out "camisetas" (t-shirts) and "flores" (flowers) from a newspaper ad when I ask him...he does understand.When I ask him "¿puedes beber un poquito mas leche?" he immediately grabs his sippy cup and takes another swig or two of milk. And today, repeating the Spanish word for bathroom after me, he said "Baño, hi" as we entered (especially impressive since his entire vocabulary consists of 20 words or so).

There is hope for my son's Spanish-speaking future.

I felt extremely hopeful this morning when I took Elliot to a play-based, immersion Spanish class. Although I didn't really get a chance to talk to them, I got the sense that most of the parents were like me: their child hears some Spanish at home, but they want to supplement it. However, I quickly realized by his excessively clingy attitude and crying that Elliot is not quite ready for the class. So, we'll try again in the fall.

In the meantime, I'll continue showing him musical videos from the Mexican version of Sesame Street; our current favorite is "Ricas Frutas ." I'll continue to read him books in Spanish and look for some more children's music CDs. And of course, I'll keep on speaking to my baby in Spanish, learning new words (like walrus and backhoe!) in the process. And of course, I'll frequently consult sites like Multilingual Mania (which I'm excited to have just found!) and Multilingual Living to find out how others are doing it.

Having made the decision to parent my child bilingually brings up more questions and doubts than I already have as a first-time parent.But, in the end, I think the benefits far outweigh the doubts, so Elliot and I will continue along on our bilingual journey.

This post is part of the April Bilingual Blogging Carnival. If you're interested in the topic, check out more posts by other authors at Multilingual Mania.

Eee-eee-ee...It's an Excavator!

2011-04-27T14:22:00.002-04:00

There was a kid in our music class who arrived each week in a Superman t-shirt, a cape, a "super" doll or some other object reflecting his obsession. He was about three, which is the age at which I thought kids began to really take an interest in (become obsessed with) something specific.

I was wrong. Or, maybe Elliot is just starting early. Whatever the case, as he approaches 20 months, my baby is absolutely fixated on trucks...and has been for several months.

It started innocently enough: Elliot would point at school buses when they passed. Then somehow, trucks got added to the mix. Construction equipment of any sort also became a source of great joy. Now, whenever we pass any sort of large vehicle on the road, Elliot makes a distinct excited exclamation that goes something like this: eee, eee, eee! In fact, I've turned into quite the "truck spotter" myself because I know that Elliot gets such a kick out of seeing them.

But, it's not just real "live" trucks and buses that give Elliot a thrill. Pictures of large vehicles are equally exciting. Since I know nothing about trucks, I figured it would be helpful to buy a children's book with vehicle names in both Spanish and English. That way, I might be able to distinguish a front loader from a backhoe (which I know is obvious, but really, I've never given this topic an iota of thought before). I knew Elliot would like the book, but I could never have imagined just how much. Throughout the day, he carries it around and opens it to random pages. Excitedly, he points out a specific vehicle -- "eee, eee, eee" -- for me until I say, "Yes, that's the giant excavator" or "Oh, el camion de basura. It is so exciting when the garbage truck comes to our house each week." Tim and I often have to suggest to Elliot at the end of the day that his truck board book is not the best bedtime story.

How long will this passion last? It's hard to say. But, I'm glad it's trucks and not something like dinosaurs, where learning the names in English and Spanish would really be a challenge.

No More Mr. Clingy

2011-04-25T15:05:00.002-04:00

If this past weekend was any indication, Elliot may (finally) be over his stage of clinging to Mommy or Daddy when other people are around. Hooray!

On Friday night, we had dinner with Elliot's oldest big brother, who loves babies. But, because Elliot doesn't see Big Brother all that often, he sometimes finds him slightly scary. Fortunately, not this time. Elliot watched in amusement as Big Brother sat next to him in the backseat of the car scarfing down Easter candy. He let Big Brother draw silly pictures on his placement. And, cutest of all, he sat contentedly on Big Brother's lap while proud dad Tim used his iPhone to capture the sight of his youngest and oldest sons enjoying each other's company.

Saturday brought a visit from Elliot's birth parents. Typically, Elliot warms up to them after awhile, but the visits have often started with whining, clinging and Elliot looking at me as if to ask "Why are all these people staring at me?" But, not this time.

Perhaps it was because we started off outside, and let Elliot do his thing (which involved precise and repetitive movements of a broom and a flowerpot), he seemed to just accept that they were there for the evening. But, he did more than just accept them. He actively interacted when they played with him, smiled a lot, and generally acted much more himself than he has on past occasions, which was nice to see.

Easter Sunday saw a continuation of his non-clingy behavior. He has been more comfortable around my family for some time, and Sunday was no exception. He marched right into Grandma and Poppy's house and starting having fun with his extended family. He participated in his first-ever on-foot Easter egg hunt, then happily alternated between playing with his cousins, a toy school bus and Grandma's dog before eating a fantastic dinner, followed by more play.

As Elliot is getting older, I think he's learning something important: Mommy and Daddy will always be there for him and will always love him most of all. But, we certainly are not the only people in his life.

You Know You're the Parent of a Toddler When...

2011-04-21T10:47:00.002-04:00

Jokingly, Tim often makes comments like "That is not the woman I married" when he catches me doing something goofy to entertain Elliot or talking about previously unheard-of topics like poop. Of course, I am the woman he married...but I am now also the mother of a toddler, which has definitely changed me.

Like me, you know you're the parent of a toddler when...

- You find yourself juggling oranges, making up songs about brushing your teeth and just generally acting like a giant goofball.

- You find yourself having detailed conversations with your spouse about the adorable things your kid did during the day (all the while thinking that no other kid could possibly be so adorable).

- You realize that everyday activities, like putting on shoes and socks, have the potential to turn into major battles of willpower...which you know you'll eventually win.

- You appreciate that everyday activities, like taking out the trash or putting away the groceries, are fun for your toddler.

- Your heart swells with pride when your baby does something helpful and you delight in the sense of pride and satisfaction on your child's face.

- You feel embarrassed when everyone is looking at you in public (or at least you think they are) because your child is just not cooperating.

- You marvel at the new things your baby discovers and does each and every day.

- You find yourself enthusiastically pointing out doggies, trucks and other things your baby likes...even at times when you're in the car alone.

- You find yourself eagerly awaiting the nap time break, and then just as eagerly awaiting the first smile your baby gives you upon awakening.

- You never go anywhere (anywhere!) without having a snack on hand.

- You find yourself constantly adjusting your expectations and your plans based on your toddler's temperament.

- You melt when your toddler gives you a kiss or a hug.

- You feel like your heart is going to explode when you realize how much you love your toddler.

Being the parent of a toddler...it's a wonderful experience.

Note: If you regularly read this blog and aren't a follower, please consider showing your support by using the "follow" button on the right-hand side. You can now also receive blog posts via email by submitting your email address. End of promotional message. Thanks.

Adventure Boy Goes to Tennesse

2011-04-18T14:24:00.001-04:00

Tim and I love to travel, so I'm pleased that Elliot seems to be turning into quite the little Adventure Boy. Our recent week-long trip to Tennessee featured a lot of family fun (and only one toddler meltdown), despite some long days and a lot of new experiences for little Elliot.

Highlights included:

The Chattanooga Zoo: Perfectly scaled for a toddler, the Chattanooga Zoo features an interesting mix of exotic animals with a few peacocks and farm animals thrown in. Elliot delighted in the colorful macaws, the active tamarins, chimpanzees and other monkey-like creatures and the adorable tree-climbing red pandas. But, without a doubt, Elliot's favorite was a small black goat at the petting farm, who also seemed to enjoy our son's company.

The Creative Discovery Museum: Ideal for the seven-and-under set, this innovative kids' museum was a huge hit with Elliot. He spent a morning splashing in the hands-on "learn about water" exhibit; playing instruments that ranged from steel drums to large xylophone-type instruments to large string instruments; playing in a little yellow house that had everything from a fully stocked kitchen to laundry facilities; "camping" in a tent; molding with clay...and a lot more. The only problem was trying to convince him that whatever he was doing wasn't the only thing to do at the museum. We found ourselves dragging him away from one exhibit to experience the next...which he then wouldn't want to leave for the subsequent one.

Rock City: We were a little afraid that Rock City, an attraction overlooking the city atop Lookout Mountain, would be cheesy. But, we found that the reason it's endured since the 1930s is because it's really quite beautiful and unexpectedly serene. Built on the former estate of a wealthy couple, the Enchanted Trail features fascinating rock formations and beautiful views culminating in an unusual walk through caverns decorated with fairytale scenes. It also features a lot of climbing up and down stone steps and some tight squeezes through massive rock archways. Elliot handled it like a pro -- doing more walking than I would imagined and acquiescing to being picked up when necessary. Of course, we did need to keep a very tight watch on him to make sure he didn't wander off the side of a cliff!

Hiking in the Smoky Mountains: This is where our little Adventure Boy was most impressive. Tim and I were worried that we really wouldn't be able to hike with Elliot, as he hasn't been too thrilled about being on Tim's back on previous hour-long hikes through local state parks. But, he handled our 4.6-mile journey like a pro -- even falling asleep for about an hour at one point! While the hike was most physically draining for Tim, it was scariest for me as I watched him cross narrow wooden bridges and climb up pathways made of rocks in some areas. While Elliot won't remember the experience, we hope that we are starting to instill in him a love of nature. And, he has a stamp in his National Parks passport to prove he was there!

As wonderful as our trip was, I know that Elliot won't remember it. But, we'll have the pictures and videos to share with him. And, I've got to believe that exposing Elliot to family travel and new experiences from a young age can only be beneficial.

Mr. Observant

2011-04-07T13:23:00.001-04:00

With toddlers, I've heard it's often a case of "monkey see, monkey do," and that has certain proven to be the case with my little monkey. Two incidents this morning illustrated that point.

Each morning, Elliot "helps" as I put on my makeup. Typically, this involves me trying to distract him with a bag of brushes so that he doesn't open and close powders that will end up ground into the carpeting. Often, he takes a small makeup brush or eyelash comb and brushes his hair with it, which is really quite adorable. This morning, I realized he'd really been watching what I do when he took my large blush brush and began sweeping it over my face as though he was my makeup artist!

A short time later, we were getting into the car when oh-no-not-again I bumped my head on the car...which will likely lead to yet another visit to my friendly neighborhood chiropractor. Mad at myself for banging into my car precisely when I was reminding myself not to, I let out an expletive that begins with an F. From his car seat came an echo of my word in Elliot's sweet little voice. Oops...that was a good reminder of always being careful of what I say around my very observant son.

As parents, we model the behavior that we want our children to imitate. With a curious and extremely observant toddler like Elliot, that is especially true. So, if Elliot starts running around while waving his arms and laughing or dancing around in tune to the garbage disposal, I'll know that he picked up those silly habits from me. Oh, wait...my little monkey already does those things:-)

My Little Helper

2011-04-05T14:05:00.002-04:00

Elliot's feet have barely touched the ground from his high chair when he's running back into the kitchen, his pink, toddler-sized, Swifter-style broom in hand. Immediately, he begins to "help" me clean the kitchen, which basically consists of moving the pile of crumbs and shredded cheese under his chair across a wider area of the kitchen. But, it's so cute to see how excited Elliot is to help!

His helping out around the house is not limited to post-meal sweeping. Each morning, after I wash my hair, he hands me a towel to dry it (which is extra sweet because he just started doing this on his own). If there's water on the floor and I throw him a towel, he'll immediately start wiping it up...with mixed results. He loves, loves, loves the vacuum cleaner, and spent most of yesterday's library playtime moving a fake Dirt Devil across the carpeting.

When I do laundry (which, with a toddler, seems to be all the time!), he usually assists in moving the wet clothes from the washer to the dryer, and in moving the laundry baskets full of clean clothes around the house (although sometimes, he prefers to ride in the basket with the clothes). Elliot has helped both Tim and me take out the garbage, although he tends to gets distracted by school buses, kids, planes and other outdoor excitement.

At his recent 18-month checkup, the doctor asked if he's been helping around the house. "He's a great little helper," I replied. As he gets older, he will take on more responsibility around the house...although I suspect it won't be with the enthusiasm he now shows for the broom.

Cleanup in Aisle B!

2011-04-01T13:37:00.004-04:00

"Are you just going to leave those books on the floor after your son pulled them down?"

Startled, I turned around to see who was addressing me outside of the library. Oh. It was a fellow library patron who'd seen Elliot pull down random books from the shelf and scatter them all over the floor. This man had actually run out of the library after us to reprimand me?

Kind of ridiculous.

Of course, I know that Elliot's behavior was not appropriate. Libraries (at least the adult sections) are places of quiet where books are treated as objects of reverence. I get that. Elliot doesn't. I also realize that, as his mother, I'm responsible for his behavior in public places.

But, if you've ever dealt with an almost 19-month-old, you realize that getting them to comply is sometimes easier said than done. That's why I made the decision not to try to corral my squirmy, getting-hungry son into sitting still while I carefully alphabetized and reshelved the books. Instead, I went to the counter and apologetically said, "I'm sorry. My son has made a bit of a mess in the B aisle."

If Elliot was a little bit older, I would have made him help me put all the books back in place. But, I could tell that just wasn't going to happen. Next time, I'll make sure that he doesn't get a chance to begin the process of trashing the library.

And next time, Mr. Busybody Fellow Library Patron: please mind your own business!

A Stupid Decision Leads to a Moment of Panic

2011-03-24T22:49:00.001-04:00

Late this afternoon, Elliot and I arrived home from a shopping trip to Target. We entered the garage and I began to unpack my purchases: 14 boxes of cereal, 10 boxes of Kleenex, the world's largest package of toilet paper and several bags of odds and ends that I invariably discover I desperately need every time I'm at Target. Add to that my purse, the diaper bag, a bagful of mail and two water bottles..in short, I had a lot of stuff to haul into the house.

As usual, I began by making several trips to and from the car -- Elliot in one arm and a very heavy bag of merchandise hanging on my other wrist. On my next-to-last trip, I made a fateful decision: to leave Elliot in the kitchen playing with my keys (which he'd been wanting) while I gathered up the last few bags from the car.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Rather than staying in the kitchen and rifling through my bags as I expected him to do, Elliot ran to the screen door leading to the garage. As he leaned against the glass, I saw him reach up, and I figured he was trying to open the door. Wrong. Instead, he locked it.

I panicked. My baby was inside the house and I was locked out. "Turn it, turn it," I screamed, which only served to scare him. I clawed at the screen door thinking I'd reach inside and turn the lock, but quickly realized this was pointless due to the glass door underneath.

How could I be so stupid? What kind of idiot parent leaves her child inside the house -- even if only for a few seconds -- while she's outside (with no phone and no keys)?

Elliot was scared and I could hear him crying. "I'll be right back, baby," I said, as I suddenly had a brainstorm. I ran out of the garage and around the house to where we keep a key hidden outside. Within seconds, I was in the front door and hugging my baby.

Thank God for the spare key. I keep thinking of what I would have done...what might have happened if it hadn't been there. The whole incident lasted only a few minutes, but will stay with me for a long time. I'm hoping that Elliot has already forgotten.

All I know is that I most definitely will not make a similar mistake again.

Nada en Español...Yet!

2011-03-22T13:33:00.001-04:00

Elliot, who got a bit of a late start as a talker, is becoming quite a parrot. "Beep, beep" he repeated after me the other day when I imitated a car noise. "Bubbles, bubbles, bubbles," he said yesterday when we made a purchase of one of our favorite summer toys. "Boo" he said back to me the other day, when I was being silly and pretending to scare him. "Car" (sounding more like cow) is another word he's starting to repeat...even say on his own. And of course, Elliot continues to regularly utter (often without prompting) his three first words: "uh-oh," "hot" and "Daddy."

But, so far, there's been nothing in Spanish. At least, nothing certain. His ongoing babbles, which seem to be in an Asian-influenced language of his own invention, do contain a sound that's similar to "sí." But, at least as far as I can tell, there's no context. He might be saying "ya" when he's done eating to signify "all done." But, then again, it sounds more like "da." Elliot is possibly saying "pow" for pan, the Spanish word for bread, but he seems to enjoy randomly making that sound...so I can't be sure.

Will my baby say anything in Spanish? I sure hope so.

It's a bit of an experiment, speaking to my son in my fairly fluent but non-native Spanish. Sometimes, especially when I hear native speakers talking to their children, it seems kind of silly. But, on the other hand, many of these parents probably have an accent and make mistakes in English, and that likely doesn't prevent them from speaking English to their kids. And, I'm heartened by the stories I read on Multilingual Living and other related sites about parents (native and non-native speakers) who talk to their kids in multiple languages.

I'm also encouraged by the fact that Elliot really seems to understand everything I tell him in Spanish. Yesterday, he correctly identified "cat," "dog," "fish" and "book" when I asked him in Spanish where pictures of these items were in a book. And, he always comes running to do our special "garbage disposal dance" -- whether I tell him I'm about to turn on the appliance in English or in Spanish:-)

Of course, he hears more English, so I suppose it's natural that English words would be his first ones. And, it seems to me that a lot of English words are easier, e.g., "hot" vs. "caliente."

So, I guess I'll just wait and see whether and when Elliot decides to say some Spanish words...and what they will be. In the meantime, I'm still waiting for my baby to say "Mommy" -- in any language!

Yes, That's My Child

2011-03-18T11:44:00.001-04:00

Being a parent changes your perspective in a lot of ways. One of the most notable is that your standards for acceptable public behavior decline quite a bit.

I'll admit it: before Elliot, I often looked at young kids crying, running or otherwise acting sort of crazy in public and thought "Why are their parents letting them act like that? Can't they control their own children?"

Now, I understand.

Now, I find that I'm the parent dragging her whining kid through the bookstore when he just isn't ready to leave the picture book section. Now, I'm the mother whose child is running through the museum's precious rock collection as though it's a maze. You might have noticed me at the park practically stuffing a crying toddler into the wagon when he just didn't agree that it was time to head for home. Elliot is the one touching the aquarium that clearly says "don't touch"...the one turning off the library computer with the sign proclaiming, "This computer must not be turned off."

Yes, that's my child.

My mom has told me multiple times that Elliot "minds really well for his age." And sometimes, he does. He walks backward away from the oven when I'm about to open it and tell him to "back up." He enthusiastically helps me move clothes from the washing machine to the dryer and knows which trash can holds the recycling. He sometimes seems to understand when I tell him, "You can do X after we do Y."

But, when he really doesn't want to do something, he throws a fit. And these fits are getting more frequent. Everything I've read says that this sort of behavior is normal and is a way for toddlers to assert their independence and test boundaries. But, it's frustrating when Elliot throws a "toddler tantrum" simply because he doesn't want to put his jacket on.

Sigh.

Keep in mind: these are not full-fledged kicking, pounding on the floor, wailing wildly tantrums. At least, not yet. I'm hoping (against hope?) that they won't escalate to that level. But, my baby definitely has a stubborn streak, so we shall see.

In the meantime, I try not to overreact. If we're at home, I try to ignore him. I explain that the way he's acting isn't appropriate, that he can't always get his way, that I understand that he's frustrated. But, I'm not sure if the message sinks in.

So, if you happen to see an adorable but crying kid being dragged away from the Thomas the Tank Engine train table at Barnes & Noble, please try to understand that I'm both frustrated and embarrassed. And, if you don't have kids, don't be so smug -- this could one day be you. If you do have kids and have any great tips for taming toddler tantrums, I'd love to hear about them!

Daddy!

2011-03-15T12:34:00.000-04:00

A few weeks ago, Tim was outside shoveling the snow. Elliot ran to the end of the hallway, pointed toward the door and yelled "Daa-dee." At least I think he did.

I wasn't sure until recently, when he started saying it more. "Daa-dee" when he wants Tim to pick him up. "Daa-dee" when Tim makes him laugh. And sometimes, for no reason at all...even when Tim is nowhere in sight, he says it. Is Elliot thinking about his daddy or does he just like the sound? There's no way to know.

What I do know is that Elliot definitely loves his Daddy. It's cute to hear him pronounce his name in his babyish voice. It's sweet to know that one of the few words my baby says is one of such significance (unlike "uh-oh," which we've deemed his first official word.)

But, I have to admit, it does make me kind of jealous.

Why doesn't Elliot say "Mommy?"

Is Daddy easier to say, which several people have told me? Does Elliot feel less of a need to say my name because he spends so much more time with me? Is he trying to say Mommy when he says "Mmm, mmm, mmm"...even though he also says it to Tim?

Maybe. But, I don't really think so.

I know Mommy or some variation thereof will come sooner or later. I just hope it's sooner. After all, the other day Elliot managed to say "owl" multiple times after hearing it in a book. And really, how often in his daily toddler life will he need that word?

A Lenten Goal...Inspired by Elliot

2011-03-10T20:54:00.001-05:00

As a lapsed Catholic, the season of Lent doesn't hold the meaning for me that it once did. However, each year when Lent trumpets its arrival with fish fillet commercials and talk of pazckis, I think: I should do something. But what? After all, I'm no longer that inspired to give up chocolate!

This year, I have an idea...a positive Lenten goal inspired by Elliot. It's simply this: to be present. To live in the moment.

Watching Elliot, I see that he is completely present in each and every moment of his life. After all, he doesn't really know what the next minute, hour or day will bring. So, when he's flipping through the pages of "Goodnight Moon," he's absolutely transfixed by the picture of the red flames in the fireplace. Every time he sees Leo the Cat, he's as excited as he was the time before. When he's eating his quinoa and applesauce, he's not worried about what we're going to do next...at least as far as I can tell. And, when he's rolling around on the bed and laughing, that's what he's doing. That's where his attention is. I don't mean to say that he's never distracted; in fact, Elliot can barely eat when he hears the washing machine running, so badly does he want to put his spoon down and have a look inside. But, despite this, my baby lives his life in the moment.

Unlike me. When I'm eating breakfast, I'm thinking about what time we need to leave the house and the steps leading up to our departure. When I'm putting Elliot down for a nap, I'm wondering how long he'll sleep and planning how much I can accomplish during that time. Even when I'm at yoga, where I'm really supposed to be in the moment, my thoughts often turn to what I'll eat when I get home. I find myself planning out my day, my week, my month to the detriment of enjoying what I'm doing right now.

Staying present is going to be a challenge for me. In fact, I've already wavered quite a bit from this goal. But, I know that I only need to look at my darling son for inspiration. After all, I want to be completely present for him.

WHAT is Elliot thinking?

2011-03-08T20:29:00.004-05:00

Elliot - what, oh what, are you thinking? I wonder this many times per day as Elliot's reactions to daily events and objects often seem out of context, exaggerated or just plain silly.

Take, for example, the opening of the door, an everyday, ordinary noise that Elliot should be quite familiar with by now. Until recently, he seemed to know that the sound of the door opening just before dinnertime meant "Daddy's home," and was greeted by sounds of delight. Not lately. For the past few weeks, for some reason we can't quite figure out, Elliot acts surprised and terrified every time the door opens -- jumping up on me and screaming.

Another prime example of an exaggerated reaction was this morning's unsuccessful shoe-shopping excursion. When I tried to get Elliot to stand on the metal measuring device so "the nice lady can see how big your feet are," he totally freaked out. He cried. He squirmed. He clung to me as though terrified. And that was before the saleswoman (who frankly, didn't seem all that great with kids), decided to bring out a few sizes without measuring Elliot's feet. As you might have guessed, I couldn't manage to try a shoe on my silly son...so we left soon after to the sad sounds of Elliot's sobs.

Oh honey, why were you so scared?

Of course, all of Elliot's seeming overreactions aren't negative. When he sees a school bus, UPS truck, construction crew or any sort of large vehicle, he gets very excited and lets out a sound of delight worthy of someone who'd just won a large prize. It's cute. It's predictable. I'm sure it won't last forever, so I'll enjoy it while I can. But it does make me wonder exactly what Elliot sees and why large vehicles are so pleasing to him.

Another positive, yet over-the-top reaction is Elliot's fake laugh, something he's started recently. Like everyone, he has quite an extensive laughing vocabulary. There's the giggle, the all-out belly laugh, the laughter when Tim or I laugh. But lately, he's started doing what can only be described as an artificial guffaw that sounds sort of like a bad TV laugh track. The funniest part is that he typically initiates it based on something he's doing -- like throwing his toys in the bathtub -- not in reaction to something silly that Tim or I have done. It's humorous, it's positive that he's happy and having fun...but it does make me wonder just what my little boy is thinking.

That's the thing: it's hard to tell. Until Elliot starts talking more, it will continue to be hard to figure out why he's reacting the way he does. So, I guess we'll just have to remember that only one thing is constant when dealing with a toddler: the unexpected.

Happy Half Birthday, Elliot!

2011-03-04T13:29:00.002-05:00

There will be no cake. No presents. No singing "happy birthday."

But, that doesn't make today any less of a special day. Today is Elliot's half-birthday...the day he turns 18 months. Hard to believe that he's now one-and-a-half years old.

My little baby is a baby no more. He's a running, drum-banging, self-feeding, babbling-and-almost-talking little boy. The cutest, funniest, sweetest little boy in the world.

Of course, I'm biased...and I'd hope that all parents feel the same way about their children.When Elliot, unprompted, stops what he's doing to run over and hug me, my heart just melts. When I see him imitate something that I know he's learned from Tim or me, it fills me with pride (and often makes me laugh as much of what he imitates is our goofiness). When I watch him sleeping late at night, the feeling of love can be almost overwhelming.

So beautiful. So incredibly funny. So smart and curious. My precious son is now fully entrenched in toddler-hood.

On one hand, it seems strange that Elliot has already reached the 18-month milestone. After all, it wasn't that long ago that I was counting his age in terms of weeks. At the same time, I now can't imagine my life without Elliot...and he's only been around for a year-and-a-half. I'm so glad the three of us found each other -- it surely was destiny. And I'm so honored to be the mother of such a special little boy.

Happy 18 months, my precious son!

Uh-Oh!

2011-03-01T11:56:00.003-05:00

If you've read this blog or met Elliot, you probably know that he's not a very talkative kid. At almost 18 months, he walks backwards, feeds himself with a spoon and fork and is quite skilled at putting all types of caps and lids on all sorts of containers. But, he hasn't been talking.

Until recently.

For about the last two weeks, Elliot can officially be considered "a talker" -- that is, if talking means using at least one word consistently and in context. That's what my Elliot is doing.

I'd long wondered what Elliot's first word might be. I'd heard enough stories to know that it was highly unlikely to be "Mommy" or some variation thereof...especially because the sound most akin to that made regularly by Elliot is an "mmm" sound when he's struggling against being dressed or having his diaper changed. I thought it might be some form of Daddy, which I thought I heard him say once. I figured it would serve us right if our son's first word was Leo, the name of his favorite feline friend.

But, no. It's uh-oh.

That's Elliot's first (and so far, only) "word."

Several weeks back, my baby repeated uh-oh after me during a reading of one of his current favorite books, "Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus." Fast forward to our flight home from Florida, where, despite the lack of calamity, he kept repeating the phrase.

Now, he says it often...and most usually, in context. When he spills his milk. When I drop my water bottle. When I discover that Leo the Cat has thrown up on the playroom floor.

Uh-oh.

While so far this is his only expression, it's not the extent of Elliot's vocabulary. There's the recent "ah, ah, ah" noise he makes when he sees something he likes. There's the "kkkk" sound he makes in imitation of my pronouncement of "yucky" in reference to garbage cans, toilet seats and the Diaper Genie. (Of course, he makes this sound as he touches these germ-infested items!). There's the sound of enthusiasm that's his version of "yes."

Apparently so far, these sounds (along with a lot of pointing and grunting) are all he feels he needs. But, soon, Elliot will discover that it's easier to communicate his thought and desires with words. I can't wait to hear more of his cute little voice!

Elliot's Future Career

2011-02-26T16:00:00.000-05:00

It's hard to imagine my 18-month-old toddler as a five-year-old, much less an adult with a career. But, sometimes I think it's fun to think about what his future career choice might be based on his current interests:

A Bus or Truck Driver: I know that a school bus or truck of some type is in the vicinity when I hear Elliot's little yelp of joy from the back seat of the car. For reasons I don't understand, he's simply fascinated by school buses and trucks of all shapes and sizes -- from pickup trucks to delivery trucks to construction vehicles to fire engines. In fact, sometimes, a senior transit van or large SUV will elicit the same excited sound. I suspect his "little boy" interest in large vehicles will wane, but only time will tell.

A Scientist: From a young age, Elliot has been a very curious little boy. Now that he's a toddler, his interest in how things work has only increased. He loves to figure out how things open. In fact, unfortunately, he now knows how to open some of our cabinets...despite the childproofing latches! He's constantly putting lids and caps on and off; trying to turn on the lights, open the garage door, make my car go "beep" with my key ring and putting CDs in and out of his CD player (including some that aren't audio CDs, I discovered today.) Is his curiosity about the inner workings of objects just a passing toddler phase or a sign of a future Einstein?

A Musician: There's nothing cuter than Elliot playing his big brother's drum set -- moving from the snare to the cymbal as he confidently bangs away with two sticks, interspersed with a little foot pedal action. Unless it's when he plays the piano, which he now does with two hands at once. Elliot also has a bongo drum, a tambourine, maracas and a crocodile xylophone, and we've been enjoying music class together since he was about five months old. Elliot loves to listen to music, and often doesn't wait for us to turn on the stereo if he's in the mood for some tunes. Will his interest in music last? I hope so, even if it's not a career.

A Chef: I've yet to talk to another mother of a child of the same age who's so interested in what's going on in the crock pot, in the rice cooker, in the oven and on the stove. Whenever something is cooking, Elliot begs to be lifted up to see it...over and over again. (He definitely doesn't get the concept of the slow cooker or understand that there's not much change from minute to minute!) He also gets very excited whenever he sees photos of food in magazines, even if it's something he's never seen before in his life! Will he love to cook as an adult...or just be interested in eating? It's way too soon to tell!

Of course, if I'd followed my childhood interests, I'd be a gymnastics teacher/dog hotel owner...so, I'm guessing that Elliot's interests will change many times before he needs to decide on a career!

17 Months Going on...18 Years?

2011-02-23T13:26:00.003-05:00

"WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE..." The sounds of Elliot's favorite song blared from his bedroom.

"Turn that down, honey," I said as I demonstrated by dialing back the volume on Elliot's single-disc CD player. "We don't need to listen to your music that loudly."

Immediately, he turned the dial to the right. I turned it back to a more appropriate volume.

Elliot is soon to turn 18 months. But, sometimes, as during our minor music skirmish, he seems to exhibit some behaviors more appropriate for an 18-year-old. Like a teenager, he often lately has wild mood swings. One minute, he's running with delight through the house. The next, he's lying on the ground crying because I ignored his request (indicated through pointing) to be picked up to look at the crockpot for the fourth time within the hour.

Perhaps the reason he's so fond of the crockpot is because he loves his food. Like a teen, he can sure pile it in. Lately, once he's eaten his first serving, he asks for more applesauce, more pasta or whatever it happens to be by lifting his bowl toward me and grunting. Can't you just see any 18-year old doing something like that? Of course, once Elliot is talking, he's going to need to add a "please" onto his request.

Perhaps the most surprising aspect of Elliot's teen-like behavior is what happens when he burps or passes gas. He giggles, finding it hilarious. I really didn't expect the scatological humor for at least a few years.

Everyone says that growing up happens so fast so my baby might just be 18 before I know it. In the meantime, I plan to enjoy Elliot's toddler years...with his music playing softly in the background.