My nephew, he is a biter.My sister called me, in tears, tonight after she picked him up from daycare. She is embarassed and afraid that he will be kicked out of daycare. He is 20 months. I told her that she isn’t a bad mom, that all kids do it and that he won’t get kicked out of daycare because her DCP is awesome and knows that kids do this at that age. That’s what I told her to get the tears to stop.
In reality, we are as different in parenting styles as night and day. I love my sister more than anyone on this earth. I would do anything for her. Anything. But her son is raised very, very different from my girls. That’s not to say that one parenting style is better than another. But I’m right and she’s wrong. Okay, maybe not. I go with the whole “you have to do what works for you.” So don’t flame me. This isn’t a debate, it’s a blog. But she calls me for advice all the time. All. The. Time. So I give her what little I know about parenting which usually doesn’t involve time outs, spanking, or giving in. She’s the one who let her tiny baby CIO. She’s the one who stopped nursing at 4 months when it got to be a nuisance (not baby led…traumatic). She’s the one who makes idle threats and uses sarcasm to her toddler. She gives in really easily to what he wants. She has used the phrase “but he’s a boy…so different from your girls”. Ummm…no. He doesn’t know he’s a boy. He could be a hippo for all he knows. Defensive linemen aren’t born, they are made.
The point of this is, if you call me for advice, don’t fight the answer. He’s biting because he’s 20 months and he wants to see what you do. He’s biting for attention because negative attention is still attention when you have too much distance from your parents. So there.
Ooooh. I’m a little snarky tonight. I don’t feel well. I’ve never kicked this cough and now I have a sore throat and throat snot to go with it. I talked myself into thinking tonight, after the girls were in bed, that this cough is cancer. That’s how Stephen’s cancer presented. It was a cough that wouldn’t go away. It took him a good month to go to the doctor even though his wife told him to go in sooner. And he “didn’t have time.” There’s no use being mad about it. It wouldn’t have made a difference. The lung mets were there then and who knows the day the first cells started growing. When was that moment? I know I don’t have cancer. But what if I do? What if something happens to me? Not likely I know. There’s no reason. And the sickies are going around so I’ve probably picked up something. I think these kind of unreasonable thoughts alot. Not all day. Not even every day. Just often enough to be annoying.
Am I the only one waiting on pins and needles for the SuperBad DVD release? I believe that was the last time that I laughed so hard that I peed myself. Which doesn’t take alot of laughing after squeezing 3 children out my hoo. But it’s still so very, very funny.
I started watching Grey’s Anatomy tonight and couldn’t finish it. It was the season premiere on rerun. I missed it the first time because we were in Rochester. I think I remember seeing bits of it. Or maybe that was the day he came back to Iowa? I don’t know. But I can’t watch it like I used to. I adore the music and I like the characters…all of them. And Alex can walk around in the black ribbed tank top all he wants. But the “trauma music” and the beeping. I can almost smell it. It makes me want to throw up. Not the surgeries but all the “emergency” stuff and the deaths and the tears of anonymous families written into the scripts. I don’t know why I torture myself like that. It’s the beeping really. And the monitors in the background. And the beds are the same and the IV pumps. Ugh.
I need to be done with TV altogether. Or just watch The Office reruns and Food Network all day. If only there were an all Rachael Ray/Alton Brown/Paula Deen network.