One Thousand Words

The other day, we were in a big hurry to get Niko ready and go out the door to meet some fine folks AT A RESTAURANT. Luckily, this was NOT the sort of place where your entire party had to be present to be seated, because we were HALF A DAMN HOUR LATE because SOMEBODY refused to put pants or shoes on and wanted to stay home and watch tv and FOR ONCE this person was NOT ME. It was Niko. Just FYI.

It was actually pretty awful, and a great example of what people mean when they talk about how shitty 3 1/2 year olds are, and it’s honestly pretty unusual in our house. Niko’s a pretty laid back dude, very cooperative, and I try to prepare him for transitions and new things which I think helps a lot in him feeling secure and relaxed. But that night was just AWFUL. There was kicking and screaming and hitting and running and hiding and I almost gave in and sent Nesko off by himself while I stayed at home with King Buttbutt but Nesko STOOD FIRM and said we were doing this as a FAMILY or NOTHING.

I ended up confiscating and putting in time out all of Niko’s stuffed animals, with the understanding that he could start redeeming them with good behavior. He won 2 back by putting on his pants and shoes and jacket, and I brought another small one with us that he could redeem at the restaurant. He got another one or two, I forget how many, back for going down to bed easily that night. The rest are in a big bin in our bedroom.

Yes, are.

They are still there.

He’s continued to redeem them, but he has a LOT of stuffed animals, and now he’s just… I don’t know. I invited him to take ALL OF THEM out of our room and he refused. “No, mama, I want to be good and get one back every day because I’m good!”

I just want them out of our room.

We live in a vintage apartment building. It’s about 100 years old. We have a queen sized bed which BARELY fits. This bin of stuffed animals is taking up a LOT of space, to the point where I can’t open most of the drawers of my dresser and nobody can get in on one side of the bed.

It’s inconvenient.

And our bedroom is also holding a bunch of stuff that USED to be in our office, which is now a bedroom for a friend who’s staying with us for a while. So we have 3 guitar cases, 2 guitar stands, a bunch of wrapping paper, and some boxes in our bedroom and basically I am about to go more insane than ever and why can’t I just have nice things? Oh right, because my bedroom is full of stuffed animals.

Which Niko won’t take back.

Because reasons.

I think he’s punishing me.

“Oh, you’re going to take away my special friends? Well you go right ahead and see how much you like that idea when it’s YOU who has to trip over them MAMA.”

I’m pretty sure he practices an evil laugh at night, after I’ve tucked him.

The evilest of laughs.

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I’ve mentioned a few times that Niko has some textural issues. This is especially noticeable when he’s not EXPECTING a certain texture. So, for instance, he had a caramel-filled Hershey Kiss the other day. He bit into it and was Shocked! Appalled! Outraged! There was A STICKINESS!!!!!! That was not what he signed up for. I told him it was caramel and it was sweet and he should try it and he looked at me like I was The Great Betrayer and was trying to trick him into something. But then he touched the verrrrrry tip of his tongue within the general area of the caramel, eventually made contact, and realized it was sweet and tasted good. And then he ate the whole thing. So he’s willing to give New Things and Disgusting Textures a chance, at least some times, which is totally awesome. And I try to prepare him for unexpected textures, because then everything goes more smoothly.

So when we had eggnog in the house, I poured a very small amount in a pink Hello Kitty (“Pretty Kitty” as he calls her) cup and told him it was a little bit like milk but sweeter and a little thicker. And he tried a little sip and liked it and had an adorable milk mustache. And he tried another sip and liked it. And then he took a huge glug into his mouth and didn’t know what to do with it, his cheeks all bulged out. He headed toward the bathroom to spit it out but I intercepted him and tried to get him to swallow. He looked around frantically and I made a mistake. I made a big mistake.

I laughed.

It wasn’t a real laugh, it was a sort of chuckle-snort that I tried to suppress. But I didn’t do a very good job of it.

And then Niko laughed. Eggnog sprayed out, a mouthful of thick sweet white, all over himself, the wall, the floor.

I’m really glad it wasn’t pea soup he’d been eating.

And then he started crying because his clothing was all wet with eggnog and Nesko calmed him down, cleaned everything up, and gave him a bath. After which Niko came out and took a few more sips of eggnog and asked to drink MY eggnog which HA! HAAAA! NO! because it was impregnated with Kraken rum.

Technorati Tags: 3 years old, parenting, toddler

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Halloween is On! Its! Way! and I have no idea what Niko will dress up as. His current suggestions include:

• Shaun The Sheep
• Bitzer the Dog, from Shaun The Sheep
• A cat
• The Brown Line – no, the Red Line. No! The purple line!
• A crossing gate
• A steam engine!
• A dinosaur
• A conductor
• A dump truck
• a ghost
• A snail with a big shell
• A penguin

Oh, these ideas? They are all from one day.

Other things he wants to dress up as include various imaginary friends of his, and a character from a short story (by Betsy Byars) he read that is a tiny cat (Finley Nox) who dressed up as a watermelon but really it was a cucumber because watermelons don’t come that small. So he wants to dress up as a cat dressed up as a watermelon but really it’s a cucumber. OF COURSE. That will be a SNAP to do!

I was actually pretty jazzed about the sheep idea because I can make a sheep costume. Just sew a bunch of cotton balls to a white shirt! So we went to Target where… they did not have white t-shirts in the appropriate size. A size smaller? A size larger? Oh hell yeah! Overflowing! The size that would fit over his black sweater? All gone. Well then. We perused the costume aisle and he flirted with the idea of being a butterfly, a fairy princess, a pink sparkly cat with wings, a ninja, or just plain buying a be-ribboned sparkly star-topped wand so he’d have a new “hitting stick” (that is my hitting stick! I use it to hit things! I mean no, that is my waving stick. I use it to wave good bye to people.”). I lingered over a $30 dinosaur costume but can’t really justify spending $30 on a costume. Then I saw a papier-mâché cat mask for like $2 or some cheap price and asked him if he wanted to be a cat. He said yes. I’m going to pick up some (more, we’re running out) tempera paint and he can paint the mask himself and we’ll get a sweat suit or track suit or something in similar colors and a feather boa for his tail and TADA, cat.

And maybe I’ll get a big oblong balloon and make a papier-mâché cucumber and he can be Finley Nox after all. Or we’ll toss a sheet over him and he can be a ghost cat.

What are you/your kids going as?

Technorati Tags: costumes, halloween, parenting, toddler

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I want you to imagine that you have 100 year old wooden floors, and a two-cup measuring cup. Perhaps a lovely glass pyrex measuring cup, heat proof and heavy and wonderfully balanced.

Now imagine that someone has taken that measuring cup and filled it with urine.

And now they’ve dumped it all over your hundred year old hard wood floors.

And when you said “HEY! WHAT THE HELLLLL! DON’T DO THAT DUDE WHAT ARE YOU DOING AHHHHHH STOP IT AHHHHHHHHHHH!” they, instead of stopping it, wigged the fuck out and so, instead of cleaning up the urine which is EVEN NOW EATING ITS WAY THROUGH THE WOOD you had to calm them down and help them put the rest of the pee in the potty NO NOT THAT ONE THE BIG POTTY and then reassure them that you aren’t MAD, you’re just cross, and you’re still a happy person and you love them.

And then you had to clean up all that pee.

And throw away the cheese crackers that also got peed on.

And explain that nobody in your household is allowed to eat food that’s had pee on it, sorry, that’s just a rule. That’s an ALWAYS rule.

Imagine that.

That is my day.

And that sudden onrush of pee obviously took Niko by surprise because he peed all over the snack he’d been lobbying heavily for and he wanted to eat that snack, that was no “I’m a dog and I hate your new boyfriend so I’m going to make eye contact and pee on your bed to show my disdain” move. That was no “I’m a cat and I’m going to show my revulsion for you by vomiting in your shoe every morning JUST BECAUSE.” This was an accident, a big accident, in a kid who’s been a totally successful potty user for a really long time now. I do not remind him to potty anymore because most of the time he does a great job by himself. Dude stays dry while asleep 99% of the time.

So what happened here?

I have no idea. Zero. None. Accidents happen. I’m just… I’m so happy it happened not on the (hundred year old, wool, hand tufted, incredibly worn and super absorbent) wool rug. Small favors, I guess.

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Have you ever seen The In-Laws? The 1979 version with Peter Falk and Alan Arkin. At one point, Falk asks Arkin to break into his office, and Arkin sees an autographed photo of JFK saying “Thanks for your help, at least we tried.” Tried what? The Bay Of Pigs, of course! “You were involved in the Bay Of Pigs?” “Involved? It was my idea!”

Niko and I made cookies today. Involved? It was my idea!

The highlight was when I asked Niko to help me break an egg into a bowl. He griped it in his tiny fist and tried to crush it. “grrrr” he said. “GRRRRR!” I showed him how to hold the bowl with one hand and tap the egg on the side of the bowl with his other hand. Then he helped me prick the yolk with the tines of a fork and scramble it up just a bit.

The cookies were a total disaster.

You may have seen a 4-ingredient nutella cookie recipe floating around, especially if you’re on Pinterest.

It’s 4 ingredients, right? I’ve been baking cookies for over 15 years. What could go wrong?

I have no idea. One very likely problem is that, since we have a hazelnut allergy in our household, I didn’t use Nutella: I used a cocoa-almond spread (from Trader Joe’s). The problem might lie in the different ingredients (although the ingredients, other than the nut used, seem pretty similar) or in the oil content (maybe almonds have less oil than hazelnuts?). The dough was extremely dry, only coming together when I squeezed it in my hands (something that other people who followed the directions with no substitutions also complained about), the cookies spread, and they are just… disgusting. The primary taste is of raw flour, and they are gritty and leathery at the same time. I have never had a baking fail this bad.

We’re going to try again tomorrow with peanut butter cookies.

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“Logo for Daniel Tigers Neighborhood”

I had no idea how much of an impact “Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood” had on me until “Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood,” a spin off of the PBS classic, aired. The main character, Daniel Tiger, is the son of Daniel Striped Tiger and some other tiger woman. The other characters are the offspring of original Magical Land of Make Believe puppets, and the aged-up original cast. Instead of puppets, though, the characters are animated in a paper cutout/CGI style that I’m afraid is going to look very dated very soon. The transition from exterior to interior, and from one room to another, already look like cut scenes from older video and computer games.

The theme of the show is emotions. What do you do with negative emotions? What do you do when you’re disappointed or sad? Or scared? How do you handle new things? Daniel Tiger and his mother/other adults/friends travel to different new places (a bakery, a doctor, a school) and talk through what they can expect and what actually happens. It feels similar to Mr Roger’s original show, but kind of… reduced? Simplified?

Niko assured me several times while watching the show that he liked it. “Oh, I like this show,” he said. “Oh, this is a good show.” “Mama, this is the show that I like.” He especially likes when Daniel Tiger says “Ugga Mugga,” he thinks it’s hilarious.

Niko doesn’t usually respond when the tv asks him something. When Dora the Explora or the creepy floating kids on “Super Why” turn their blank, soulless eyes to the viewer and ask a question and then pause for an extended period of time, he says nothing. He just ignores it. When Daniel Tiger asks if anyone wants to “imagine with him” or “visit a bakery with him” or “decorate a cake with him” or etc, Niko answers. He says “No,” but he answers.

My one complaint about the show is that Lady Elaine Fairchilde is historically pretty ugly. She had a big nose and chin and terrible hair and a frumpy red dress. In the cartoon, she’s slender and attractive with a stylish hair cut. I loved ugly Lady Elaine Fairchilde and am disappointed she’s been given a make over. Less-than-beautiful people on tv make me feel better about my own less-than-beautiful bits. But maybe this isn’t the real Lady Elaine Fairchilde but a cousin or daughter or something? I’m not sure.

Her kid is cute as hell, though.

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I grew up in a kitchen with a parent who was a professional cook for many years, which means that a lot of very basic knife (and general kitchen) safety was burned into my brain from a young age. Never put knives in the sink. Never run with a knife. Always pass a knife to someone handle first. Never touch a knife blade. Dull knives are more dangerous than sharp knives. Don’t use a too-small knife. I even know how to hone a knife on a whetstone. As I’ve said earlier, some of my earliest memories are helping my mom in the kitchen and I don’t really remember a time when I wasn’t actively helping.

Our current kitchen isn’t very usable, for a number of reasons, so I’ve been doing the bulk of my cooking solo. Even though Niko is at that magical age where he wants to help and is capable of helping in some ways, I’ve been curtailing that because it’s just so inconvenient for me. And that’s a wrong headed attitude to have, frankly. So lately I’ve been asking him to help me load and unload the dishwasher, put his dishes in the sink, measure coffee into the coffee maker… and cut red peppers.

Yes, I’ve given my baby a knife.

A toddler stands on a wooden scaffolding called “The Learning Tower,” which raises her height to be safely able to work at a kitchen counter. Image taken from the Learning Tower website.

Several people have mentioned using things like the “Learning Tower,” which is a wooden scaffolding that costs quite a bit of money. If we had the money and the space for it I’d totally consider it, but as it is, Niko is very happy on his 2-step stepladder. We pull it right up to the counter and we practice handing a knife back and forth handle first, and then I give him strips of red pepper to slice in half.

We work on paying attention to what he’s doing, to the cutting board and the peppers. We work on how to hold the knife in his hand. We work on remembering that the blade is sharp. We work on how to hold the food steady. We work on not going too fast. And then he hands the knife carefully back to me and we put the peppers in a bowl, and he eats them all because red peppers are basically the bomb.

I know there are dull knives that people use for toddlers. There’s some plastic lettuce specialty knife that a lot of people laud for its dull blade and inability to puncture skin. I considered getting one of those, but in the end decided that with close supervision using a real knife was the better choice. Knives are sharp. I want my child very aware of that, at all times. I want him to know knife safety, and I want him to develop cooking skills that will last him through his life. If you have young children in your life you may very well make a different choice, and I’d love to hear what you have chosen or will chose. But Niko’s enjoying cutting up his own peppers, and he’s enjoying helping me, and he’s learning a lot while doing so.

How old were you when you started using a sharp knife?

Would you let a 3 year old use a knife?

What would you do?

Technorati Tags: child, cooking, kitchen safety, knife safety, parenting, safety, teaching, toddler

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I mentioned previously that I was going to work with Niko on “knife skills.”

I remember cooking on the stove top when I was young enough and small enough that I had to stand on a chair to be able to see into the pot. I don’t know how OLD I was, but I was pretty young. My mom kept me in the kitchen with her and I picked up a lot of safety lessons just by watching and listening to her. Keep pot handles toward the back of the stove, not hanging over. Don’t put knives in the sink. Don’t wear dangling sleeves. Keep your hair tied back. Wash your hands. That sort of stuff. And, of course, how to hand a knife to someone.

Now, in theory, Niko knew the first rule of knife safety which, as Suzanne pointed out, is OMG DON’T TOUCH THAT. Yet he tried to cut an apple with a bread knife and cut several of his fingers. Oh, toddlers 3 year olds children human beings, always got to touch the thing you were told not to touch. Here, have this key. It unlocks a secret room. DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR. ha haaaaaa, you opened it! Don’t touch this knife. ha haaaaaaa, you touched it. Great.

So we talked about the parts of the knife. This is the handle. This is the blade. The blade is sharp. Don’t touch the blade. Always hold a knife by the handle. Don’t touch a knife unless mama or tata is there and says it’s ok.

And then we talked about how you hand a knife to someone. You pick it up by the handle and then you hand it, handle first, to the person. We practiced this, asking for a knife and handing it to each other.

And then we talked about how you walk with a knife. You hold it low, and pointing away from you. You don’t point it at anyone, ever. You walk carefully.

Niko asked me today if he could “walks around the kitchen with a knife” which sounds like a weird question to ask until you realize that’s a specific skill I was teaching him, not that he’s a budding knife-wielding serial killer. So I gave him a butter knife, reminded him of the parts of the knife, and he walked around carefully holding it down and away from him. And then I asked for him to hand it to me and we practised that a bit more.

It went well.

After a few more safety lessons like this we might move on to cutting.

Or maybe spreading. Yes. He can use a knife to spread things first.

Maybe.

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Niko’s full name is Nikola, and this is for a number of reasons. It’s a straight up traditional name in Nesko’s culture, it’s a family name, their Slava is St Nikolaus, and of course there’s Nikola Tesla. It’s also apparently A REALLY FUCKING COMMON NAME and when we go to, say, Nesko’s cousin’s Slava and their friends and cousins are there, there’s always other kids named Nikola/Niko. I haven’t encountered any called Nikatz or Nano, both of which are nicknames we use more frequently, though. but I’m sure we will. So I’ve started expecting Nikolas/Nikos at family gatherings, but I’m still surprised when I encounter a Nikola/Niko in the wild.

We ran into one at Wagner Farm last weekend.

Let me back up.

Historic Wagner Farm is a little slice of history in Glenview, IL. Nesko’s bosses are Rotary Club members, and for the past 3 years they’ve had fund raisers at Wagner Farm that includes a hayride, ice cream, and this year face painting. This is the third year we’ve gone, and it’s a lot of fun. Niko enjoys running around, he likes watching the cows and horses and talking about their poop, he likes looking for the barn cats, and he thinks the chickens are super cute and he wants to take them home. And of course he likes eating the ice cream. Who doesn’t? (me, I don’t. ooooh, lactose intolerance. i want to love you again, ice cream, I do. you’re just… not worth it.) There’s a building with bathrooms and a gift shop and some edutainment museum-ish displays and the ice cream parlor. One of the interactive displays is supposed to be about chicken eggs and collecting and sorting them and candling them, but every time we’ve been it’s just a frenzy of kids grabbing eggs and dumping them down the chute and grabbing more eggs and EGGS EGGS EGGS OH GOD THERE’S EGGS AND BASKETS AAHHHHHHHHHH BEST THING EVERRRRRRRRRR! While Niko was taking part in the eggs and basket frenzy, I heard another woman reminding Niko to play nice and share and not grab. Basically, I’d open my mouth to remind Niko to not be a dick, and then this other woman would say exactly what I was going to say! DUN DUN DUNNNNNN! As it turns out, she has a 3 year old named Nikola also.

I guess it’s just a popular name.

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I was cutting up some cherries today and Niko objected. He could just eat them whole! The way he eats grapes! And carrots! No no, I said. They have pits, I said.

He looked at me like I was full of shit.

He actually gives me this look a lot, because I say all kinds of crazy shit like “you can’t eat a box of granola bars for breakfast” and “don’t paint the rug” and “your fingers don’t belong up your butt.”

“MAMA,” he said, “a pit is something YOU FALL IN. It is IN THE GROUND. It is a BIG HOLE that you fall in and get lost in.”

So we had a conversation about cherry pits (and peach pits), and pits that are holes in the ground, and arm pits.

Later on I tucked him into bed for a nap and then took a shower. As I was drying off I heard a big thump and then sad noises. He made his way into the bathroom, sniveling.

“Oh, Niko, did you fall out of bed?”

“No. I tumbled.”

Well there you go.

He also had a freak out when I wouldn’t let him eat an entire bag of dried cherries. When I wouldn’t open the bag, he reassured me that it was ok, he’d open it himself. I put it on a shelf. He flipped his shit. Among the insults he slung at me? “YOU ARE NOT A PERSON!” I… do not know where that came from.

He is, in general, in a “I’ll do it MY! SELF!” mood where everything but pulling up his own pants is concerned. He’s pretty much toilet trained except for sometimes he pees on his bed when he wants a bath (RAGE METER FILLED. WHY WOULD YOU DOOOOOOO THAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT) and he’s wet the bed twice overnight possibly because he’s had a nightmare. So we’re back to pullups while sleeping, even though he’s totally dry 99% of the time. He also likes to get himself “a nice cool fresh glass of water.” AWWW ADORBS. I FORGIVE YOUR URINE ANTICS.

IN OTHER NEWS, I was all on top of things and ahead of the game, and took Niko in for his dental exam and check up/physical and got his school forms filled out so I’d be all ready to enroll him… and I’ve lost those forms. CRI CRI. No idea where they are. I guess I put them someplace safe? So safe they’re safe EVEN FROM ME. Good job, me. Good job.

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