My Band-aid Baby

REM sleep.  Sometimes, I think I may never again experience it. At least, not on a consistent basis.  Instead, I have a feeling I am going to be living my next few years running off of fumes so to speak.  The result? I am tired.  The other day I woke up and laughingly Shaun and I joked that just for that day, we (okay, mostly this was me telling Shaun and him just agreeing) wished we could stay in bed all day long watching movies on TV, only having to get up to maybe venture to the bathroom or kitchen. Then I even said maybe we could have room service (it's my daydream), and we could nap at any time we wanted.  That only sounds so good to me because I never really get to sit down or relax (and I recognize some of this is my own fault for being so OCD). It's okay though! I can deal with going through a day and not really taking a break for myself. I consider my trips in the car (you know, where your kids are strapped down) as a reprieve from running around and working, and I think it causes me to look more forward to the few minutes at night after the kids go to sleep when I pull out my trusty Nook and get lost in a book or on the weekend when Shaun and I sneak in a movie or TV show at 10pm.  You would think, logically, that would be followed by my next luxury, sleep.  But that brings me back to my original point: lack of sleep.  Specifically, my lack of sleep is being caused by my youngest precious child.  Even though my baby is becoming more of a toddler, I still rarely get the luxury of having him sleep the entire night through, thus, no REM sleep for me.

Sawyer is my sweet and cuddly baby.  Most of my posts are dominated by funny Ryder stories, but lately, Sawyer has been doing a good job coming into his own.  He has a distinctly different personality than Ryder.  Whereas Ryder is doggedly determined and only listens to what he wants to hear, Sawyer is happier sitting in my lap or hanging around my neck.  As long as he is with me, stuck to me like a band-aid, he is content.  He is becoming more independent now that he is getting older and more mobile, but as a whole, he is much easier to handle than Ryder ever was as long as I carry him.  He is sometimes bossy, and he is louder than I originally thought he might be; he is even starting to yell "No!" at me, but then he breaks out into a toothy grin and comes running to hug me.  All in all, he is loving baby who, for a 21 lb tiny human, can definitely make himself heard.  In the daytime, I laugh at his clingy behavior, even smile and think about how special it makes me feel that he is such a mama's boy.  But at 2am, the affection and clingyness is starting to be much less "cute."

As a newborn, Sawyer fit into my life and our family with such ease that I joked that at times, I forgot he was even around.  I will never forget how stressful Ryder's first few weeks of life were at night. He would get geared up to scream at 10pm and would go until 4am, when he would finally give up.  This lasted approximately 4 weeks.  Then, all of the sudden, his sleep patterns became much easier.  He slept large chunks of the night without waking, and he would even wake up cooing in his crib. Sometimes I would listen to him for 30-45 min before getting him out of bed.  As a 1-2 year old, I would literally get Ryder to sleep in mere minutes and then be out of the room to enjoy a bit of free time.  I am not saying he was perfect.  He would occasionally experience a disrupt in his sleep patterns; once I even let him "cry it out" after a few weeks of noticing he was wanting me to get him up to rock him in the middle of the night for no reason other than comfort.  Often times, his weeks of waking numerous times at night or fighting going to sleep would be followed by severely infected ears, which I would realize were his underlying problem.  We would get the ears fixed and his sleep patterns would become peaceful again.

How I found Ryder when he was Sawyer's age after I let him "cry it out" for a few hours.

How I found Ryder when he was Sawyer's age after I let him "cry it out" for a few hours. 

Sawyer, on the other hand, is a totally different story. He started off better than Ryder.  The first night I brought him home he slept 3 hours in between feedings.  If you have ever had a newborn, you know this is fabulous.  I was so pleased that he really never had any nights of screaming for hours on end that I bragged to everyone about what a great tempered baby he was (and I still whole-heartedly believe that).  And unlike Ryder, who never napped in the daytime, Sawyer would sleep for a few hours during the day, giving me an often much needed break to relax myself.  This pace rocked along until about 6-8 months.

It is no secret that I am a breastfeeding mamma.  I probably have been labeled that nutty holistic mom by my friends who personally do not want to breastfeed past the first few months.  I make no apologies for the fact that I support and believe breastfeeding is the healthiest way to nourish a baby.  I also support extended nursing.  To me, a 2 year old who nurses is normal, not creepy.  Sawyer is the poster child for breastfeed babies.  Though he is 16 months old, he is still perfectly content and 100% happy to nurse.  Many nurslings will self wean when they are ready.  This can happen early for some babies and much later for others.  For us, Sawyer appears to be no where near ready for that, and I am okay with that.  Breastfeeding came easy for both me and Sawyer.  I, for one, enjoyed the freedom from bottles and formula and washing and refrigerating, etc. But the biggest reward of nursing was night nursing.  I honestly do not know how formula moms have the energy to fix bottles, warm them and then wash them or wake up to a sink full of dirty bottles day after day.  Nighttime feedings for a breastfeed baby are, in my own personal opinion based on my own experiences, easy. Baby cries, unbutton shirt, feed baby, go back to sleep.  Many nights, especially in the beginning when Sawyer was in the crib beside my bed in my room, my feet never even hit the floor during his feedings.  I would tuck him in close to me, feed him, drift to sleep with him, then wake up and move him, sleeping so soundly, over to his crib.  It was sweet, calm and peaceful.

When Ryder was a baby, he breastfeed for 6 months.  For numerous reasons, I ended up stopping at that point and switching to formula.  By this time though, he was sleeping all night, so I never had to warm a bottle or feed him at night.  I had evicted Ryder from the crib by my bed by the time he turned 4 weeks old.  I was so sleepy and driving myself so silly at night making sure he was alive and breathing that neither of us could sleep.  So on the day Ryder turned 4 weeks old, I moved him to his crib in his room.  This was also the first night he ever slept the entire night. I swear, I thought he was dead when I jerked awake the next morning and realized I had actually slept.  And even when Ryder did wake up, I was much more diligent to rock him and put him back in his bed, no matter how tired I was or how long it took.  I was too scared to co-sleep because of SIDS.  When Sawyer came around, I was much more comfortable with parenting and was quicker to put Sawyer in bed with me to feed.  It made me a much more functionable person in those early months because I could drift off while he ate, and it is probably why he slept so much better than Ryder had in those first weeks.  I didn't worry about SIDS or spit up or any of those nutty things that kept me in check when Ryder was born.  In fact, one quick realization I had about parenting two children was that when one child wakes, it is very easy to wake (unintentionally) the other child--and let's face it, no parent wants that to happen.  This factored into my decision to bring Sawyer into my bed as well.  If he ever did cry for any length of time and wake Ryder up, it was much harder for me to manage.  Two crying babies can be really tricky.

Fast forward to 16 months old.  Sawyer is still in the same pattern of sleep he was in at 7, 8 months old.  Another habit I formed was rocking him to sleep at night while he nursed. Usually this was also while Shaun and I spent a few minutes watching TV and enjoying the quiet time together.  Now that Sawyer is older, he still will only go to sleep if I rock him.  I haven't figured out how to break this habit (other than crying it out).  Honestly, I didn't realize I had created this monster until it was created, so to speak.  But truth of the matter is, I can handle rocking him to sleep.  Sure, there are times when it would be nice to just pop him in bed and leave, but I am okay spending some snuggle time with my baby.  It is what follows that is driving me slowly bat %&$* crazy.

Sawyer still wakes up anywhere between 2-4 times a night.  Ideally, he would like to nurse when he wakes up (something Ryder stopped on his own after about 3 months old), and even though lately I have been doing good at not giving in (most of the time anyway) to his desire to simply nurse for comfort, I still cannot get him to sleep an entire night through.  No lie, he has had approximately 2 full nights of sleep (from the time I put him down until the sun comes up the next day) since July 1. I have been counting.  A typical night starts with rocking Sawyer and putting him to bed at 8:00pm, roughly.  Usually he goes down easily.  I then enjoy some reading and relaxing before I go to bed, typically around 10:30.  It never fails, by 11:30-12:30ish, Sawyer wakes up.  I know he his simply waking up and then he cannot go back to sleep on his own, but I swear I think he is waking himself up on purpose to catch me not sitting with him so that he can wail at me and make me feel bad and miserable at the same time.  I usually get up and rock him or comfort him and then put him back in his bed.  This takes anywhere between 20-45 minutes.  At about 4:30am (and many times earlier) he will wake again.  I again drag myself out of bed and rock him back to sleep.  I place him back in his crib, where, half the time, he will pop back up, no matter how asleep he looks, and start crying.  If I am really tired, I will just give in and pull him up and take him with me to my room where he will snuggle close to me and happily, knowing he has gotten his way, go to sleep.  I am also quick to make this decision because I do not want him to wake Ryder.  I totally know I am being played, but the truth of the matter is, I just want to sleep! So, I do what I have to do.  And many, MANY nights, he will also get up in between the midnight and mid-morning wake ups.  For the last few weeks, he has been waking up about every two hours.  That is a worse rate than he was at when he was a newborn!

I have recently decided that I would love to return to a full night's sleep (ha, if it where such a simple decision).  To do this, I know I must be more firm with him and just toughen up and let him cry.  I have been doing that some this last week.  I am still rocking him, but if he pops up when I put him down, I am trying to just walk away and let him cry himself to sleep instead of pulling him out of the crib every time he whimpers.  I admit, this is hard.  Last night, for example, I put him down at 11:45 after he woke up crying. I thought he was sound asleep, his little arms limp and his head flopping over on me.  As soon as he hit the bed, he pushed up and started pitifully crying.  Instead I told myself to be strong.  I did not get him up and instead listened to him cry for what seemed like forever, telling myself that he was fine, just spoiled.  He eventually went to sleep and even had a pretty good night, sleeping until about 5:20 (sad, right) this morning. When he started making noise, I went to get him (actually feeling rested with the extra hour of uninterrupted sleep) and discovered he had apparently been asleep in a huge diaper full of poop (sorry, there is no nice way to say it) for probably most of the night.  I felt so horrible, like I had ignored his cry for help.  Heavy sigh. Now, I will probably be unable to get the idea of him wearing a dirty diaper out of my mind when he cries at night.  I guess I will just keep on keeping on with our battle.  Waking, rocking, crying, maybe even pooping.  I would love to think that eventually, he will just start sleeping and stop waking so often.  Maybe he will, but right now, it feels like I still have a small infant.  What I really want is sleep--peaceful, restful, uninterrupted sleep.               
    
Occasionally I am asked if and when I plan on having another baby.  I think most people ask just to see if I am nuts enough to say I am, or they secretly wonder why in the world I would want to.  The answer is yes, I do want a third baby (though I have thought about telling people "it was an accident" when it happens).  I love the hustle and bustle of parenthood and as everyone knows, would love to try just one more time for a girl.  And the way I look at it, I might as well go ahead and have my third baby while I am still getting up so much in the middle of the night.  I would probably hardly even notice the disruption.

So, do you have any useful tips on how I can get my band-aid baby, who thinks he cannot be away from me during the night, to sleep and STAY asleep? If so, do tell...

A Life With Ryder. Happy 4th Birthday.

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday to you,

Happy birthday dear Ryder,

Happy birthday to you!

Holy cow! Where have the last four years gone! Today is Ryder's fourth birthday.  We have celebrated all weekend leading up to the actual day. In our house, birthdays are important, celebrated, fun!

Some years back my family began a tradition that we refer to as "The Fifteen Minute Birthday Party." When someone in our family has a birthday, we always try to get everyone together (in the immediate family) and throw a quick birthday "party."  Even if we only have 15-30 minutes to spare, we make it a point to throw some party plates, hats and a cake on the table, and celebrate as a unit.  Typically these get togethers last longer than 15 minutes, but some have been brief--just long enough to sing, eat cake and run.  They are fun though, and we enjoy spending our time with each other, even if it is just for a half hour.

In kid world, however, a birthday should last longer than 15 minutes.  It is, after all, the second biggest day of the year behind Christmas. So, we have been celebrating in full force since Friday morning, our Opening Games, if you will.  Brad and Allison came from Dothan and as soon as they arrived, the atmosphere surrounding Ryder was heavy with birthday anticipation.  Ryder proclaimed all day that it was his birthday, and he wanted to know when he was opening presents and when exactly he would be four. Then Chris, Nikki, Anna and Jake came over, along with mom and dad, and from that point on, the action was high.  We went to eat at the new pizzeria in Southside, and I am fairly sure the restaurant broke out into cheers when we left. The boys came home and ripped and roared (literally--Woody was decapitated, Ryder's bed was stripped of bedding, the lamp had to be removed, a bow and suction-cup arrow set and a bowl were both broken--all of which the boys blamed on eachother or Sawyer) through my house until they were almost past the point of go.

Saturday, after spending the afternoon at the playplace at McDonald's with his cousins, Jake and Greyson, Ryder celebrated with friends and family at his Spiderman birthday party.  Ryder had a blast.  He tore through presents at a superhero speed.  It was a perfect day.  He came home to assess the loot and to start playing with the goods.  Because his party was before his actual birthday, he was still on the birthday high the next day.  Sunday, after a lazy day of play, we treated him to Red Lobster, (mostly because I had a kids eat free coupon, and it was shrimp fest, but whatever), and he was delighted when the waiters sang to him and brought him ice cream, and we were all shocked when the stranger next to us gave him ten dollars.  Other than a 10pm trip to Winn Dixie to retrieve a lost Spiderman Potato Head, the day was glitch free.  On Monday, his actual birthday, he woke up and before we even left for school, I sang to him and let him blow out his birthday candles on his cake that we purchased for him to take to ECA. After school, we went to "Chic Bo La," as he calls it, and we allowed him to run free in the play area while we ate.  We followed the trip up with a stop by TJ Maxx for a birthday toy (small though) and finally, we ended the 3 day celebration by singing him one last round of Happy Birthday and by giving him one more small present.  All in all, it was about as fabulous of a birthday as any kid could ask for, and far from a fifteen minute party!

When I went to bed on the night of his actual birthday, I thought about the past four years.  How excited I was when I found out that I was pregnant with him.  How much I enjoyed pregnancy and planning for his arrival.  How poorly I handled the pressures of a newborn baby.  I experienced postpartum after Ryder was born and was stunned at how hard and stressing it was to be a new mother.  I will never forget the panic that washed over me as the nurse wheeled my 6 lb, golden-haired baby boy into my overly crowded room just an hour after giving birth and told me that he was mine! She showed me his diapers, and I freaked.  (I can still hear my aunt Scarlett laughing at my reaction in the background.  Or is that one of those false memories that develops after a life altering event?) For some reason, I even asked if the nurses would be coming in to change his diaper and wanted to cry when they said no! (For the love, I can't believe I said that.) The car ride home from the hospital felt like hours instead of minutes.  I was sure he was probably suffocating in his carseat.  I hobbled around feeling like I had been hit by a bus and feeling overwhelmed at the constant nursing and all night screaming (Have you ever seen the Suave commercial where the beautiful woman morphs into a bedraggled mom in a matter of minutes? That is exactly how I felt.)  I cried when I discovered my mother-in-law changed my sheets while I was in the hospital and did not replace them with the ones I had designated to go on my bed after the baby was born (that is nutty). I obsessed over keeping him looking like a baby doll with no spit up stains on his perfect clothes.  I wore glasses to sleep, if you could even call it sleep.  I would hang my head over the edge of the bed, with glasses uncomfortably crooked on my face, and try to keep myself awake to make sure he didn't die in the middle of the night from choking on spitup, which I was sure was going to happen. I am surprised I didn't smother him. One time I jolted awake to find my hand spread out on his face. I had placed it on his belly so I could make sure he was breathing, but in my exhaustion had drifted off and my hand had moved.  In short, I was nuts. Now, I get a good chuckle out of how bananas motherhood made me.  At the time, it was serious. 

Soon though, my fears melted away, he began sleeping, and I became confident in my mothering abilities.  The years following have been amazing (not going to lie, tiring too).  He has always been a funny, loud, sweet and doggedly determined person.  I have enjoyed watching him learn, dress up, give love, be independent and make my life better.  I have struggled with watching him have multiple ear infections and colds and having to take him routinely to Birmingham for his immune issues.  I have watched him make friends at school and laugh with other kids, as well as worried over the possible heartaches he may face in life.  My heart sang when I saw how he immediately fell in love with his baby brother and how he never, not even one time, acted jealous or ugly towards Sawyer.  I have kissed boo boos, wiped tears, sang songs, read books, painted pictures, created messes, cleaned up messes, felt stressed, felt overjoyed, bought surprises, planned play days, doled out punishments, bestowed earned rewards and tried to give him a happy, happy home.  All in all, I cannot imagine life without my firstborn, blonde headed, Dennis the Menace, superhero son, Ryder Hudson Mecham.  I t would be dull and completely uneventful.  I never know what he is going to say or do. Sometimes I laugh just looking at him.  He is the apple of my eye.  Sometimes I write about all of the irksome stuff he does, but the truth is, I love the irksome stuff.  He is who he is and that is exactly why I love him so much.

To my beautiful, smart, independent and amazing son, Happy, Happy 4th Birthday.  I am so proud to call you mine.















(And let it be known that I cannot do it alone.  Shaun is an amazing dad to my boys, and I am proud to call myself my husband's girlfriend.)

Three Year Olds Have Cliques?

How important is popularity? Does it make a person more successful, happier, or more well rounded?

GaLinda, from Wicked (the Musical, adapted from the book by Gregory Maguire) believes popularity is the way to be successful in life, and though we learn that she changes throughout the story by befriending the unpopular Elphaba, she still holds on to her public role as the popular Glinda the Good in order to maintain her power with the public. She even sings about popularity as she tries to change Elphie in the early stages of this unlikely friendship:

 When I see depressing creatures,
With unprepossessing features,
I remind them on their own behalf
To - think - of
Celebrated heads of state,
Or specially great communicators!
Did they have brains or knowledge?
Don't make me laugh!

They were POPULAR!
Please!
It's all about popular.
It's not about aptitude,
It's the way you're viewed,
So it's very shrewd to be,
Very very popular
like ME! 

In Arthur Miller's play, Death of A Salesman, Willy Lowman, the protagonist and tragic hero, basically destroys his relationship with his two sons by constantly pushing them to be "well liked" by everyone, even if it means taking advantage of others to do so. Willy refers to Bernard, Biff's nerdy friend, as "liked, but not well-liked." According to Willy, only great men are "well liked."  The reader sees the great flaw in this thinking, and in the end, it is Bernard who turns out to be successful, while Biff and Happy flounder, but still, is Willy, at least in theory, on to something?

 I say all of that to get to this: Do most parents want their kids to be popular?

Ryder is only three, going on four years old.  When I had children, honestly the idea of their popularity never really crossed my mind.  

Flashing back to my school years, I have memories of truly enjoying going to school. Of course, I can recall a time here or there when maybe I was the odd man out at a sleepover or party, but for the most part, I never really actively thought about popularity or worried about being liked by others. I wasn't necessarily the most popular girl in my grade--I wasn't the homecoming queen or a cheerleader, but I was friends with the girls who were. I was also friends with the girls who were not. I cannot remember a time when I ever dreaded school or was afraid I would be left out of the group.  

The thought of worrying about my own children's popularity seems odd.  After all, Ryder is not even school age, but lately, I have been thinking more about it. Let me clarify, I think the term "popular" here is incorrect. I am not worried about my kids being the most popular kid in the class; in fact, I think that would come with its own set of worries, but what I am talking about is simply worrying about my kids having plenty of friends and not being singled out.  

Let's face it, kids can be mean. We have all witnessed it at some point or another. I think every mom has probably shared at least one moment of worry over the feelings of her children when they are around other kids.  I, for one, certainly don't want Ryder to ever be without friends or made to feel excluded from a group; that is simply the mothering instinct within me to protect my child from hurt.  

I can tell Ryder is really growing up; he has transitioned out of the baby/toddler stage and has entered the little boy stage. With this comes the task of developing friendships on his own and learning how to play well with others.  Ry has been going to the same daycare for three years and has pretty much been with the same group of kids. I always assumed they just played in one big group, but I have been surprised to find out lately that cliques and best friends are already being developed. That seems crazy to me. Ryder is constantly asking me for something (boots, shirt, toy, jacket, you name it) based on the fact that someone else has one. He will say "I need a pair of brown boots like So and So kid has at daycare."  The keeping up with what everyone else has is already starting---in 3 year old preschool!  But the conversation that really sparked my thought about this topic took place a couple of weeks ago. 

Everyday when I pick Ryder up and drive him home, I ask him the usual questions: "Did you have a good day?" "What did you do?" "Who did you play with?" This series of questions is really just me trying to keep a conversation going with him.  Last week though, when I asked "Who did you play with?" He happily answered a girl's name and a boy's name. I said the appropriate response of "Good! What did y'all play?"  Then I, for no real reason, began spouting off the names from the class that I am familiar with, "Did you play with So and So boy?" Ryder's answer sort of stopped me in my tracks.  He said "No, he doesn't like me." So, I tried rephrasing the question: "Oh, you didn't play together today, but y'all are still friends?" Ryder was firm, "No, he is mean to me; he doesn't like me."

I admit, and if you read my blog, you are aware Ryder is a loud and overpowering personality, probably one that I can assume not every kid will gravitate towards. But somehow I was a bit shocked. I guess the realization that not everyone Ryder plays with will always like him never crossed my mind. I knew that he often fights with his cousin, Jake, and that at times it seems like they don't get along, but I also knew they are more like siblings than friends and that, at the end of the day, Ryder will tell me he wants to see Jake because he is his "frand."  But somehow this hurt my feeling for Ryder, though he seemed to not care. 

I decided that maybe Ryder didn't really understand the idea of what it means to not be friends versus "we simply didn't play together today." I started quizzing him daily about his friends, who he played with and who others in the class played with, all while trying to be upbeat so as not to make him feel like something was wrong or like he was being left out.  Still, daily I was met with the same basic answers.

A day or so later when I dropped him off at school, I forgot to put his ear drops in (after his tubes) and asked if it was okay that I go get him to put them in. When I walked into the room, Ryder was crying and standing by the teacher and saying "So and So boy (the same I had asked Ryder about in the car) won't let me play with him." This literally broke my heart. I then became worried about it. Was he going to have friends? Would he be left out or excluded at school? He is too young for it to really hurt hist feeling for longer than 3 minutes right now, but at what point would it become more hurtful for him? Was I being totally over dramatic and doing some serious hoovering mothering about this particular topic? I didn't know.  I asked another teacher and, though she did confirm that Ryder didn't get along with that particular boy based on the fact they are both pushy and want to be the boss, that he seems to play fine with everyone, though he doesn't tend to play with any one group of kids for too long before moving on and that he does seem to fight less with the girls. He also isn't as physical with the girls (well, at least that is one worry I feel better about and can remove from the list:  girl abuser.)

Then, a few days ago I asked again the same series of questions, and he told me he played with the same little girl he seems to always play with. I said "what about the boy you have been playing with?" He answered  "He is not my buddy."  WHAT?! Why all of the sudden is he playing with all little girls when he is in a class filled with boys?  He is very boyish and not a thing about him is girly, so I didn't understand. I questioned what he played with the girls.  He said "hide in seek."  I again suggested he ask the boys to play hide in seek with him, and he told me they weren't his friends and that he liked playing with the girls.  When I prodded him as to why, he replied "because they are my girlfriends; I love girls." Okay. Should I be happy or worried at this response? I tested him further: "What about the other kids?" One thing I noticed is that he seems to view the friendships of the others in pairs: Bill and Ted are friends, Tim and Joey are friends, Jack and Tom are friends.  You get the point?  So I am not sure if he just thinks that once a kid plays with someone else, they are friends and no one else is included, ergo anyone outside of this pairing is not a friend.  But I keep wondering about how he told me the boys were mean to him.  Does he understand what that really means? (It seems he does in other contexts. For example, if he doesn't get something he wants, then I am mean, which is logical for a three year old.) Or is he simply saying stuff in reply to my questions. A three year old isn't always reliable after all. The other day he told me they ate "Honey Bunnies" (which is a term of endearment I call him) for lunch at school, and he stuck to that story. But it does seem that he is always consistent in our conversation about friends, who he played with and who doesn't "like him."  

In the end, I have decided that I am simply going to teach him to be nice to everyone, and if someone doesn't want to play with him, to just move on and find someone else who will.  I also recognize how silly this all sounds, particularly because of his age.  But the more I have thought about it and the more I am observing, the more I can see other moms trying to get their kids into the perceived "in crowds" at an early age, planning play dates and forming connections that they hope will pay off later.  I understand this line of thinking honestly.  I think life for a well liked kid is probably a bit easier, at least in the present, than it is for a kid who is left out.  I think part of my fear is also over the fact that Ryder will be starting a new daycare this fall in Southside, and I am worried about how he will fit in with both the teachers and the other kids. Obviously, I want him to be liked by the other kids, and I suppose I view his being accepted by others a factor in his happiness.  Doesn't everyone, for the most part, want to be accepted?  

So, in your opinion, am I being over dramatic? Is it normal to worry about such silly and superficial matters? Have you, moms out there, ever, even slightly, felt this way about your children? 

If so, make me feel better! (Let me just add that this seems to be my issue; Ryder seems to be perfectly happy at school and doesn't even notice that he is telling me that others leave him out!)

From Mean Girls: (Guess this is a problem for the ages...)

Regina: We do not have a clique problem at this school.

Gretchen: But you do have to watch out for "frenemies".

Regina: What are "frenemies"?

Gretchen: Frenemies are enemies who act like friends. We call them "frenemies".

Karen: Or "enemends".

Gretchen: Or friends who secretly hate you, we call them "fraitors".

Regina: [Rolls eyes] That is so gay.

Karen: [Gasps] What if we called them "mean-em-aitors"?

[Regina scoffs]

Gretchen: No, honey, it has to have the word "friend" in it.

Karen: Oh...

Taming My Unruly Child: Failures in Parenthood.

Do you ever have days when you feel like a complete and total failure as a parent? Well, for me, today is one of those days.  I have two beautiful and loving boys, and both are the center of my entire world, but I am the first to admit that neither is perfect. 

Ryder has a unique personality. He is fun loving, free spirited and always interesting.  I love almost everything about his pint sized personality, almost everything. The one Ryder trait that drives me nutty is his aggressive behavior. I laugh and joke about it, but truth be told, sometimes I actually feel more like crying than laughing.  Let me give you an example of this undesirable behavior:

Today before going to school, Ryder decided that he wanted to wear his blue flip flops.  Daycare does not allow, or at least has requested that the kids not wear flip flops so as to protect their toes while playing.  I argued that he could not wear them.  In the meantime, Sawyer, who lately seems to be following right along with a loud and bossy personality, was destroying the bedroom, and I was trying to hurry to get out the door for work.  My first mistake of the morning was giving in; I decided that, in effort to avoid an argument and meltdown, that he could wear the flip flops in the car and then change to his tennis shoes at school. I clearly explained this to him, telling him he would have to put the other shoes on as soon as we arrived at daycare. He happily followed me around and went on about his business until time to leave.

Let me interject here: Ryder is always difficult. Even when he is minding, he is draining. I am not  saying he is always bad, just draining.  It sounds mean, but it is the truth.  He is needy, and I have questioned if he is also slightly OCD.  He gets something on the brain, and he cannot stop until he gets it.  He is loud, rambunctious, in your face and demanding at all times.  This doesn't mean he is always aggressive; even when he is happy, he is loud and dominating. For goodness sakes, he has nodules on his vocal chords called "screamers" from his vocal chords banging together so vigorously (as told to me by Dr. Wiatrak).  I often find myself thinking (or occasionally saying) "Ryder, please, go away!" or when it is really bad, "Ryder, will you shut up!" We are a loving family, an affectionate family, and I miss no opportunity to tell Ryder how loved he is, but sometimes I simply cannot take another second of his hounding before I want to scream...and be alone.

So, back to this morning. We arrived at school and I hopped out of the car to get his shoes on. Immediately he started crying. I could see the meltdown happening. He bawled and pleaded to wear his flip flops: "No!" I said. I started out talking sweetly, trying to explain that I wasn't trying to be mean, but the rules were that he could not wear them. He resisted. Time was ticking. I began losing my calm, and my sweet shifted to annoyed. "Ryder, put your tennis shoes on, now!" He got madder. Finally, I took his flip flops off, mostly by force and started to fight to get his shoes on him. He looked at me, tears filling his baby blue eyes, and grunted a hateful "ugh" while simultaneously slapping me with his shoe in anger. I cringed. In that split second I felt mad, embarrassed and truthfully, a bit worried. I told him "We do not hit!" He swatted at me again with his tiny hand balled into a fist. My first instinct was to pop his leg, then I pulled him fighting from the car and made him sit in timeout on the bench outside of daycare as I shifted my attention to getting Sawyer out of the car.  By the time we made it inside, he was wailing. I tried to ignore him, but my anger was obvious. I took Sawyer to his room and Ryder followed me. The thing with Ryder is that he can literally go from angry to pitiful in a heartbeat. He stood by my side crying and begging for a kiss. I handed Sawyer off and composed my thoughts. I sat with Ryder, hugged him and tried, possibly in too much detail, to explain to him "we can never hit someone. It is not okay to hit." He said all of the right things: "yes ma'am;" "I am sorry;" "we don't hit," yet, somehow, when I left, I felt depressed.

This is honestly a typical outburst from Ryder. I have friends/family who notice and have commented on his aggressive behavior.  Some think it is too aggressive and that Shaun and I are not strict enough. Others laugh and think his spunky attitude is hilarious and that it makes him a real "boy's boy" --tough and able to take up for himself.  I find myself apologizing for it, laughing at it or making excuses for it. I try to control him: we use timeout; we talk to him about appropriate behavior; we love him and always show him kindness. In truth, it makes me nervous.

Am I just having a moment? Is this typical almost-four-year-old-strong-willed-boy behavior? I don't know. What I do know is that I do not want him to be that child that other kids don't want to play with or other parents cannot stand. He is so sweet so often and that is the Ryder I want everyone to see.  I honestly do not think he is an evil or mean spirited soul; he literally just cannot control his immediate quick temper. When he gets angry, he lashes out in a split second, almost always physically: hitting, pushing, biting. He has even been known to bite or pinch himself when he is uncontrollably angry and doesn't seem to know what else to do.  Y'all, that is crazy! I have joked, probably more seriously than not, that I am worried about him becoming an abuser or a emo teenager who cuts himself! Those people exist; they came from somewhere! I am hoping I am being extremely over dramatic, but the thoughts have crossed my mind.

When I got to work, I googled "Three year old aggressive boys" and came across an interesting article about handling aggression in young children, which I have included here in this post: 

http://www.empoweringparents.com/How-to-Stop-Aggressive-Behavior-in-Young-Children.php

I will admit, it made me feel a bit better about Ryder, but also made me depressed about how difficult it is to change. It is like trying to train a puppy (which I have never been successful at) or thinking about getting healthy only to find out everything is bad for you, even the stuff you thought was okay.  It takes constant and diligent effort. I also realized how much I am doing wrong:

Limit TV to nonviolent shows for no more than 30 minutes a day. --Well, we screw that up. Superheroes don't save the day over tea while talking about feelings.
Control your voice, do not raise it when correcting your child--I am loud anyway, so even though I do try, I eventually end up just yelling.
Remain calm and ignore your child while he or she throws a fit; do not give the bad behavior much attention--Ignoring it is hard. At home you get so mad that you don't want to ignore it, and when others are around, you feel like if you ignore it, they are looking at you thinking "uh huh, that is why he acts like that; she just ignores it." Admit it, you know you have thought that about others before.
Do not continue talking about the behavior in front of your child--Considering he is ALWAYS under me, and I feel the need to vent, I inevitably end up discussing it in-front of him.
Be consistent--Sometimes, when you are so worn out and just cannot take anymore, you just give in.
Stick to a schedule or routine, avoid triggers like overstimulating and limit unhealthy foods--Well, by the time I pick kids up, cook dinner, give baths, pick up the house, blah blah, it seems like it is impossible to get Ry in bed before 9. Then he wants to watch a movie (breathe easy, usually it is nighttime Curious George) and sometimes it is 10-10:30 before he goes to sleep. And unless Spaghetti Os and PB & Js are nutritious, then I am doing that wrong too. Not to mention the fight that has developed lately of him going to mom and dad's house and helping himself to a Coke without anyone else knowing it.  I swear, they are going to have to padlock their fridge when they move in!
Never react to your child's outburst by hitting (spanking) or using any other form of aggression--Well, we do spank, but never too hard or abusively (I have even been told maybe I wasn't spanking hard enough to make him get it) though, spanking at all is in question here. This one makes me think. The other day Ryder was getting out of timeout for hitting me, and I asked him if he understood why he was in trouble. He answered in his adorable gruff voice and with his Dennis the Menace like thoughtful expression "because we don't hit mommy. Only mommy can hit little boys." Heavy sigh, is that really teaching him anything?
Follow through; do not give a consequence that you cannot follow through with--How many times have you given an empty threat? Me, plenty. "I will take you home if you do that again!" He does it again; I respond, "I am serious; one more time and we are leaving!" You get the idea.

So, long story short, I am having one of those days....

I love Ryder; I know he is a good boy--I tell him so all the time. I try to always treat him right and teach him right from wrong. I have given an impression here that he is a kid with only bad behavior. That is so far from the truth. He is actually very loving; he is funny and he makes almost everyone laugh. He loves to cuddle, and he tells me how much he loves me all of the time without being prompted. He loves his baby brother and always looks out to protect him, play with him and teach him.  He seems truly sorry when he does get in trouble, and he will smother his loved ones in hugs and kisses repeatedly at any given chance.  He laughs and giggles and says thank you, please and yes ma'am on his own. Many of his meltdowns are sparked by insignificant incidents, not by his intent to be mean to me or others; I do, though, worry about some of his behavior, specifically this tendency to get mad and then get aggressive when things don't float his boat exactly the way he expects. Maybe he is immature and doesn't know how to handle his anger and responds with an immediate physical outburst. He is also quick to forget or get over his anger. Within minutes he is happy go lucky again, like it never happened.  Maybe it has to do with all of his ear issues and maybe began as a way to communicate when he didn't know of another way.  Maybe it is simply his personality and he is just who he is. Maybe he is spoiled and has just learned to be demanding and aggressive to get things of desire. Maybe I am making excuses. Maybe it is my fault and my own errors of parenting. 

I look at Sawyer, who is just beginning to develop his own personality.  He has always been so sweet and content. Now, he is starting to "yell" at me in baby babble when things don't happen his way (like when he isn't allowed to chew on the remote.) I am trying to make an effort to fix my responses to his outbursts in a different way than I did with Ryder.  In the beginning, seeing such attitude on a little guy was almost funny, and we would laugh and even unknowingly encourage it. I am not going to do that with Sawyer, or at least I am going to try not to.

I guess now I have to reevaluate how I deal with Ryder. Maybe I will hang up a reward chart and really start trying to focus on fixing my own behavior in response to him.  He will still have meltdowns and will probably, at least for the immediate future, still behave aggressively.  When I pick him up today, I hope to hear that he has been well behaved.  Whether he has been or hasn't been, I guess today just goes down as another post in my adventures of motherhood.

So, be honest. Do you still want to invite us to your parties? Is our behavior more normal than I think or should I start googling behavioral therapists now?

Advice appreciated.

No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem...Or Is There?

 DISCLAIMER: This post is in jest, please don't call my mom and tell her I am posting inappropriate pics of my kids. If you secretly think how you would never post something like this, then don't and keep it to yourself! :) Now, read on and enjoy! :)



Last night Ryder, Sawyer and I were outside swinging and playing.  Ryder was his cute and usual self. Oh, and by usual self I mean he had on a superhero cape, rain boots and underwear. Nothing else. I laughed and thought about how quickly he was and is growing up and how one day, I will tell his girlfriends (to his complete mortification) how he always ran around in capes and underwear. Always.

"Astro Boy"

If you know Ryder, you have probably experienced this look firsthand.  I have even been told (or strongly hinted at) that I am borderline inappropriate for letting him run around in underwear so much.  I, however, think he is still basically a baby at 3 and that he doesn't understand that adults see it as inappropriate. (And I am not going to let him run around at age 12 in underwear, but good grief, 3 is a little different.) I do have to admit though, he is kind of obsessed with nakedness and under garments (I am trying to decide how nervous I should be about this). But he is so darn funny and serious about the role of superhero and to him, underwear equals tights. Maybe we should blame the superheroes for wearing such skimpy outfits (I promise Shaun and I are not running around in our underwear and watching inappropriate television) .  But I confess, this tendency to be naked and notice naked is pronounced in him and often extends to situations outside the role of superhero.


Is that normal? I don't know.  Let me give you some examples, then you can help me decide.

Besides the obvious love for underwear wearing, here are other funny and maybe inappropriate Ryder moments:

This is the pic: The heroine in white

The other day Ryder and Jake were in Ryder's room. Ryder had a Marvel calendar that was given to him by a comic loving friend.  In the calendar, the superheroes are not just kiddie cartoons, but are more adult in nature (and I don't mean pornographic, just adult).  One of the female heroines had low slung pants on and curvaceous hips.  I walked in the room to hear Ryder tell Jake in his funniest gruff voice "Oh Jake, hers pants are falling down!" to which Jake replied very seriously, "Ew, Ryder. That is gross." Ryder definitely did not think it was gross, just funny.  I laughed; they sounded so hilarious having this conversation, but that incident, added to some other similar incidents, made me start thinking about this topic.

Another example:

In the car a few weeks back, Ryder was watching his Superman app on my iPad. All of the sudden, Ryder started to squeal "She's naked!!!" I quickly turned around and snatched the iPad out of his hands. He had accidentally opened my itunes account and played a song of Christina Aguliera. The cover shot for this song was a picture of her on the cover of Rolling Stone nude but covered with a guitar (it pops up when her music is played, which is pretty much never btw). I got his Superman going again and gave Ryder my iPad back.  He kept turning it over and I asked him what he was doing. He said "I am trying to see hers bottom." Holy moly.  I just rolled my eyes (and sort of laughed) and told Shaun to pray he didn't turn out to be any kind of pervert!

One of the funniest things Ryder has done lately (which is inappropriate, but he didn't know it) has made me laugh every time I think of it! My friend came over one day and commented on how her baby had shoved a pop-tart in her DVD player. I laughed and said I could top that. Ryder thinks a (not sure how else to put this politely) bottom crack (I tried) is the perfect spot to shove a pop-tart. Now, maybe that is just three year old logic at play, (it is a "slot" of sorts) but everyone who hears that story thinks he is probably going to be a delinquent.

And possibly the example to top them all is the dress incident:
At a baby shower I recently attended with my kids in tow, a very attractive lady came hurriedly walking up with her sun dress wrapped tightly around her legs and saying "Um, whose little boy is this?!"  I looked over to discover it was Ryder (heavy sigh).  He was jerking on her skirt with all his might trying to pull it up! It was all she could do to keep herself covered. I was MORTIFIED.  I immediately pulled him away and sent him off in trouble. I apologized and the lady was nice enough to laugh. She told me she had been bent over when he walked up to her and lifted the back of her skirt all the way up, exposing her rear-end and then he had exclaimed, "I want to see your body!" Good grief! Everyone else found this hilarious--like roll on the floor laughing hilarious. I, however, wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry.

Honestly, I have, like, 15 more examples of this type of thing.  He recently tried to get me to pull Wonder Woman's tights down because, as he put it, "She wants to be naked." (He said it like it was so obvious). He also watches a particular episode on Mickey Mouse Clubhouse that he always yells that he can see Minnie's underwear.  Last week mom was in her bathroom and Ryder yelled to her (through the closed door) and asked what she was doing. She yelled back, "about to take a shower" to which he said "are you naked? Let me in." I think you get the picture.

So, is this normal? I know some who probably would say I should get on to him more harshly when he does something like this. Granted, if at 10 he is pulling up skirts yelling "I want to see your body" I might look back and think those people were on to something. But right now, I cannot decide if this is simply 3 year old behavior. Is he all of the sudden (by all of the sudden I mean in the last year) aware of nudity and bodies and that they have to be covered up? He is 3, and he does see us in our underwear as we are getting dressed, but we aren't like running around in our skimpies with him! Please make me feel better (or worse I guess) by telling me if I should be legitimately concerned!   Are your kids aware of nakedness? Are you super strict with it or uptight? Please, enlighten me.     

Happy Birthday To Me

Yesterday was July 1; my 31st birthday.  I kicked off my birthday weekend celebration by partying old school (honestly, that sounds much more wild than it was) with my long lost BFF Devin! Last week we went to lunch, and she mentioned that Drake (I am assuming most of you need no explanation, but just in case, he is a traveling musician on the verge of making it big and by most standards, has already had great success) would be playing a local show at Brother's Bar in Jacksonville.  She told me to go with her and we could have a night out like we used to in our early (and mid) 20s.  I said I'd love to, but truth be told, I wasn't really planning on it. Why? Because of my kids.

Anyone with kids knows how difficult it is to break away from small children for any period of time. I could probably swing a few hours away, maybe even long enough to go eat AND go to a movie, but what she was suggesting was entirely different. It would require overnight care for my boys.  This is a luxury I have rarely enjoyed since Ryder was born.  I could count on my hands the number of times Ryder has spent the night away from me.  Maybe 5 times at my mom and dad's, 1-2 times at Shaun's parents and 4-5 times at Nikki and Chris's.  Often, he spent the night because I had a need for it, somewhere to be the following morning so early that it would require him to stay overnight somewhere else. There were a few luxury nights in there, however.  Mom kept him for the night on my 6 year wedding anniversary so that we could spend the night in Birmingham; she also kept him on the night of my (sort of pitiful) class reunion.  Nikki Marker graciously kept him an entire weekend in January before Sawyer was born so Shaun and I could get away to Gatlinburg (that was sort of tainted though by the beginning of Chris's nightmare in the hospital); Sawyer, on the other hand, has only spent the night away from me once--when we moved to Southside and I had to get up very early to go to Birmingham to get an award with my Fraternity (I also woke up with a virus so it was not exactly a pleasure having to pull myself up so early) .

I don't really have tons of babysitters at my disposal to ask to keep my kids for the night.  My parents are always willing to help, but my mom is past the point of keeping Sawyer alone.  A few weeks ago at my house she lost him while watching him as I cooked.  I found him chewing on the toilet brush in the guest bath.   And Ryder is even too much for her.  He will walk outside or away from her and she just cannot keep up with him.  Shaun's mom is busy and rarely available to babysit for an extended period of time. And Nikki Marker, who is my main babysitting lifeline, is busy with her own kids.  I feel guilty putting my kids on her overnight (though she is pretty awesome at offering to babysit and keeping them for me whenever I need someone for a few hours, and she would totally do it overnight if I needed it.)

Somehow though, the stars aligned and mom and dad were both available to keep the boys overnight and offered when they heard me mention how I wanted to go with Devin. So, yesterday Shaun and I had an old school, pre-kid reminiscent night on the town.  We dropped the boys off at mom's at 6 then headed to eat.  After that, we met Devin and Tim at Brother's.

This is when our night began! Can I just say how weird it felt hanging out at Brother's. I joked as I went in that I deserved the faculty discount and joked that I would probably see my students there and give them a heart attack once they realized their EH 101 teacher had invaded their hangout.  We settled ourselves at a table and started laughing and talking with friends.  I tried to totally relax, but guess what was on my mind? Yep, my boys.  I had already checked on them by phone like 3 times between 6 and 9 o'clock. Mom even told me to relax and have fun and stop thinking about them.  What made me most nervous was Sawyer.  He is my baby, and it feels so weird to be away from him for a long time.  I worried about him waking up and not being able to go back to sleep.  At 10:30, I received a text that both boys were asleep and doing great. From that point on, I danced, laughed and sang along with Drake and my friends.  Devin and I felt like we were in high school again. In fact, I felt the very opposite of 31. I felt 21 again, despite the fact that my aunt Scarlett would say that wasn't true!

From 10:30 on we had a blast. But no matter how much fun I was having hearing Drake sing, watching Devin be her funny self, and cheering Coby on as she took up for herself against a super annoying probably intoxicated guy, I still had the boys on the back of my mind.  As a mother, I guess there is just no way around that. When we came home at 3am (holy geez, I haven't closed a bar down since college) Shaun and I enjoyed going to bed without having to brush teeth (well, other than our own) change diapers, put on pull ups and read bedtime stories. We just went to bed. The next morning, despite my best effort to sleep in, I was up at 8:30. Funny how that works. BUT it was also nice getting up at leisure, fixing coffee and relaxing in bed reading before getting a (very rare) peaceful and kid free shower. The rest of the day was simple and great. The boys excitedly came home, and we ate a DELICIOUS meal at Shaun's mom's house and enjoyed family. By nightfall, we were back in the same old routine, changing diapers, brushing teeth and putting kids in bed.  As much fun as having a night to myself was, I sure did miss my sweet boys (but that doesn't mean that a part of me isn't looking forward to the next adult night out I will have, probably when I turn 32.) At the end of day, my birthday was pretty spectacular. 31 must have great things in store for me!

You Know and I Know, and That's All That Matters.

Let me ask a question that no one will answer honestly (maybe not even me, but I will try).

Do you have a favorite child? Did your parents like one of your siblings the best?

Here is why I ask. Sitting in the speech therapy office the other day I was flipping through Time magazine waiting on Ryder's session to end. I came across a fascinating article about parents choosing favorites when it comes to kids.  We all know it happens (unless you are an only child: you are number one by default), but will you admit to doing it or would your parents?  The study suggested that it is a basic survival instinct to nurture one child more than another.  This is common practice in the animal world.  The black eagle will watch as her strongest offspring eats her weaker offspring. Talk about favoritism. This, however, in the real world can cause some serious sibling rivalry (luckily though, the number of sibling eating sibling violence is pretty non-existent.) The article went on to discuss the study and the percentage of which sibling is liked more than another.  It was reported that "65% of mothers and 70% of fathers exhibited a preference for one child, usually the older one. And those numbers are almost certainly lowballs" (Kluger).  The article also noted that most parents will fiercely deny this idea of favoritism and that the number one kid, who usually knows he or she is number one, remains under the radar about it to keep the peace with the other siblings.  No child usually wants to create animosity from his or her siblings. We watch movies and TV shows all of the time that portrays one child as the "golden child" and another as the jealous or left in the shadows sibling. Think about it, what would Robert be without Raymond Barone (In the voice of Brad Garrett: Everybody Loves Raymond). This was so interesting, and it made me think about my own family.

I have two older brothers, and we always "jokingly" (are we really though?) argue over who is number one kid.  This has been running for years.  We will occasionally tell the other siblings that one of them is number one if we feel that that sibling deserves it temporarily (for example, I graciously allowed Chris number one status when he was so sick in the hospital last year.)   I, however, stand by the fact that I am probably number one: I am the girl, the youngest, and the most sensitive to my parents.  My competition is tough though:

Sawyer thinks he's #1

Chris is the oldest. Statistically the oldest is usually number one because as the article puts it (and I am paraphrasing) parents have invested more time and money into the oldest and therefore, feel more attached.  He also has some serious health issues that make my parents more prone to worrying about him. Chris, however, is a different personality than me or Brad. He is seemingly gruff, though he is also very funny and does like to hang around with mom and dad even if he doesn't outright admit it. But because he is more prone to calling things like he sees it instead of saying what he thinks people want to hear, he comes off as not quite as much of a people person as Brad or me.  This, in my opinion, makes him even more ripe for the number one picking.  Mom and dad are constantly trying to please him more since he doesn't seem as obviously pleased as quickly as say I do.  He is also a whiz at computers and technology and is the go to guy for tech help in our family, another skill that I lack.  And I will just throw in that he has an awesome wife and has given mom and dad not only their first two grandchildren, but also the only girl.  That is a lot to compete with.

Mike's Christmas cards from me and Chris

He looks pretty "doctorly" here huh?!

Brad is the middle child.  The middle child is usually the one who is lost in the shuffle and rarely ranks numero uno on the favorite list.  It is even worse if the gender card is not in that child's favor either, if say the middle child is not the only boy or the only girl, which is the case for Brad.  But somehow, Brad managed to shine in this middle category despite the odds.  He has always been a funny personality, ultra competitive and still is very confident (And also a bit of a neat freak).  He probably most famously in our family brought light to the whole "who is the favorite kid" argument the year he gave my parents a card for Christmas that simply said something to the sound of "Mom and Dad, I know you love all of your kids equally, but...(inside of the card) You know and I know and that's all that matters." (This was hilariously followed up the next Christmas when both Chris and I gave mom and dad a home made card that featured our kids and proclaimed us as number one.  We thought we would show the other siblings up. The hilariousness of it was that we had no idea the other would produce a similar card.  Brad just laughed and said he had been the original and needed no follow up card.) Brad was a great student and athlete and is now a very successful doctor, who is also married to a very successful doctor.  Whereas Chris is the go-to tech guy, Brad is the go-to "I'm sick and need medical advice for free" guy.  That can make a kid pretty popular and a parent feel pretty proud.

well, here we all are, sans mom. I am clearly the most normal if nothing else...

Contrary to popular belief, as the youngest, I am statistically not the typical pick for favorite by terms of the animal world.  But because human beings are much more compassionate than say, the black eagle, the youngest sometimes wins favor with one or both parents because that child represents the end of child rearing or because one parent possibly believes or suspects an older child's favoritism by the other parent and thus tries to make up for the younger child's lack of extra admiration.  However, despite the fact that youngest kids often get the left overs, when it comes to being "number one," I believe that I bring a lot to the table.  Besides the obvious that I already stated (mostly being the only girl out of the two boys gives me a better shot according to studies), I am extremely close to my parents (some may call it dependent, whatever, judge if you must), and I spend tons of time with them because I want to, not because I have to.  Another factor in my favor is that I am (or at least I believe that I am) pretty easy to get along with.  Although I have my "Mike Marker" moments, as we might put it around our house, overall, I am pretty much happy to do whatever.  I am typically not overly bossy, and I would definitely categorize myself as a people pleaser, especially if those people are my parents.  (Just FYI, the article also mentions how looks come into play, and that the best looking child is often favored.  Clearly I have that one in the bag. Just sayin').


Obviously, if you know or have met my parents, you know that they go almost stupidly overboard to ensure that we don't think that there is a favorite.  (Maybe they suspect that we suspect that there is? Did that make sense?) For example: If my dad calls one of us to check on how we are doing, he feels obligated to call the other two.  If he gives one of us money or buys us something, he will keep a tally mentally so he can give the others the equal amount in some form or fashion.  There have been numerous times that I have had say "Dad, seriously, I don't care if they got SO and SO; it is not a big deal." I cannot even begin to count how many times I have said hey to Brad on a video tape when he cannot be at a family function (he lives out if town) so that if for some reason he ever saw the tape (which he probably never will) he won't feel left out.  If my parents have a favorite, I know they would be the ones who would deny it to the grave. (Good thinking mom and dad. Mums the word.) The honest truth is that they have probably decided their children-in-laws are the favorite.  They are all of the perks of kids with less hassle.



So I decided to look at my own boys to try and decide who was my favorite (okay, just hold on before you decide I am horrible).  And you know, I HONESTLY cannot pick. Here is why: it is no secret that I had a bit of a rough time transitioning into motherhood after Ryder was born. When Sawyer came along, he was a breeze. He was more calm and peaceful as a newborn. Heck, he slept from day one.  But really, I was more calm and that made the difference.  I occasionally joked that Sawyer was my favorite because he was so easy (yes, I would pick a favorite based on ease.) When I thought about each of them separately I realized that trying to pick a favorite would be like picking what I liked better, my flattering black dress or my perfect fitting jeans! They are apples and oranges. I cannot pick because I really love them for their different qualities. Ryder is a superhero, loud, all over the place, a Dennis the Menace if you will. Though Sawyer is developing his own personality, he is a bit lower key than Ryder, calmer and more content by himself.  I think that parents often just love their kids differently, and that is okay.  It doesn't mean I feel less in love with one of them or that I wouldn't give my life up for either of them, but depending on my mood, I may prefer to play with one over the other. Just like I may eat the apple instead of the orange or opt for jeans instead of the dress.  I do hope to never make one of them feel that he is loved less than the other, because that would be a lie. All I know is that they are my boys, and I love them both for who they are.  Now, let's just hope I don't have to rewrite this if I am ever lucky enough to have that baby girl...

So, am I the favorite? Well, to borrow a line from Brad "You know and I know and that's all that matters!"

If you want to check out the article that I read and used to refer to in this blog, click here: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,2094371,00.html

Source:
Kluger, Jeffrey.  "Playing Favorites." Time. Time Inc. 3 Oct 2003. Web. 11 June 2012.