Plastic Naps and Other Fun Stuff

So, this is going to be a random conglomeration of happenings, stories, and pictures. No real rhyme or reason . . . .

Mariah says more and more funny things as she gets older. I really wish I were better at writing them down. I always think, "There's no way I'll forget that." And then, by the end of the day, when I want to tell Mike, I've already forgotten.

But here are a few things:

She loves to talk about being "all growed up."

• "When I'm growed up, I can get married in the temple."
• "When I'm growed up, I will be a mommy."
• "Mom, look, I'm so growed up! (said while stretching up on her tippy toes and followed by a low, airy, throaty noise, like she's straining every muscle in her body, working so hard to be grown up.)

The other day, she stood up on her chair at the table, and said, "Mom! I'm growed up! Now I can be a mommy!" Then she paused, in thought, and asked, "Mom, can you teach me know how to be a mommy?" At least she thinks I'm doing an ok job, I guess?

When we first moved here, we went to the zoo. There was a dinosaur exhibit that terrified Mariah. Life-size dinosaurs moved and roared. Pretty scary. So, we had a talk about how they were only plastic, and she already knows dinosaurs are extinct. Well, now, anything that isn't real is "plastic." A few days ago, I was somewhat aware that she was lying down on the living room floor. She got up and came running to me:

Mariah: "Mom, I took a nap! Now we can make carob pudding!" (We sometimes make pudding if she takes a good nap.)

Me: "Hmm. I think we need to take a real nap in your bed."

Mariah: "I want to take a plastic nap."

Another note about dinosaurs . . . . I think she has bad dreams about them. She tells me there are dinosaurs in her room. She tells me often about how there was "a niddle tiny dinosaur right in the middle of my crib last night." I asked if this little tiny dinosaur was nice. She emphatically said, "No! It's a mean dinosaur." Each time we have yet another discussion about how dinosaurs are extinct. They are not real. "Yes," she says, "they're just plastic."

We went to Marian's again last week (Marian flew Christine out to help decorate her house. Have I mentioned that I love love love having a sister so close?), and Mariah loved wearing all of Elsa's princess dresses. (I'm afraid I have some sewing projects to complete before Christmas.)

Here's "Thunderella" making a quick getaway. She even had to kick off her glass slippers.

Some serious riding . . . .

Laney got in on the princess theme too.

A very pleased "Sleeping-Beauty-Princess-Arora."

And a beautiful white "Thunderella."

Marian let the kids help stir the no-bakes.

Christine has a captive audience.

Mariah did not appreciate Weston's desire to ride with her. She viewed it more as a horse-jacking. She and Weston (and all the kids, actually) got along beautifully this trip, which was a huge blessing. Marian, Christine, and I ignored them much of the time and got a ton done on Marian's house.

Here's one cute conversation I overheard between Mariah and Weston:

(Weston was pushing down on one edge of his plate and then letting it clack down repeatedly on the counter)

Mariah: (in a sweet, sing-songy voice) "Weston, please don't do that with your plate. If you do that, I will have to take your plate away, ok?"

Weston: (sheepishly) "Ok."

Mariah: (leaning in towards Wes with a very motherly expression on her face) "Weston, remember the rules. We don't do that with our plates."

Weston: (more sheepishly) "Ok."

Mariah: (still leaning in) "Do you understand? If you do that with your plate, I will have to take your plate away. Ok?"

Speaking of being grown up, here she is filling her daddy's shoes. With all the picture hanging going on at Marian's, the kids got very much into measuring and hammering. (We almost had some random holes in walls yesterday when Mariah found our hammer and a nail.)

Mariah asked me the other day to help her put all of her golf tees in the ground. When we were done, she said, "Now I will sit here and wait for them to grow!"

And, speaking of growing, she learned about seeds somewhere (not from me). I cut her a nectarine the other day. She said, "Mom, see this big seed inside the nectarine? If you plant it, it will grow into a nectarine tree!" Yes, dear. It will. (Things like this happen often, and I feel more and more sheepish about how much I am not teaching my girls).

Mariah loves cherries!

My girls. Mariah was trying to get Elaine to hold her hand. "Here, Laney. Let's go to the ball."

Don't you love her princess ball attire?

A close-up of the 2-inch cabbage patch cowboy boots. Hmm.

And a few more things:

We got a new van last week. When I put Mariah in for the first time, she walked straight to the back, climbed up on the seat, and said, "I'll just sit here on this couch."

I try (sometimes successfully) to follow advice given in the book Positive Parenting. One of the techniques is to make sure kids understand consequences, and to actually have them tell you what they are. If a child is misbehaving (say, coming out of her room at night), the parent might say, "If you come out again, I'll have to lock your door." The parent is then supposed to ask, "What will happen if you come out again?" Many children will say, "I don't know." The parent is supposed to calmly repeat the consequence, "I'll have to lock your door," and then the question, "What will happen if you come out again?" And this is repeated until the child states the consequence.

Well, Mariah spins everything I ever do and tries to use the techniques on me and other people (see conversation with Weston, above). After she states something she wants to happen or tells someone what to do, she'll ask, "What will happen if . . . " and then she'll come up with some consequence that will surely happen if I don't do as asked. I often think to myself, "Wow. I was just positive parented."

Crazy Laney

My Elaine is about as lovable as they come! She is a nut! Her antics are hard to describe; I wish everyone could meet her. I could just sit and watch her all day.

She's always exclaiming big things (very few words; lots of sounds) and saying 10 times more with her dramatic expressions--especially her eyes and eyebrows. When she falls or gets hurt, she tells me what happened by re-enacting the whole thing in a very dramatic fashion. (She's done this since she was quite young).

Elaine loves loves loves music and dancing. She keeps perfect tempo with her head and body and has since she was tiny (or maybe just young. i'm not sure she's ever been tiny). She gets a very serious look on her face when she's dancing. Very important stuff.

Here are some recent pictures:

Wearing Mariah's shoes.

Very serious about her cups.

Mike found these cabbage patch boots in his keepsakes. Laney walked around in them for a while.


And here are a couple of long (possibly boring to some) videos of the girl. The first was taken in early July, before she was walking. The second was just last week.

In Her Own Words

The Power of Positive Reinforcement (or is it Bribery?)

This bribe was in the form of 7 stickers and 2 starbursts.

Mariah was having major issues at night, crying about this, that, and the other for 1 to 1 1/2 hours. She knew the rules: she only gets tucked in once; if she comes out of her room, we lock the door; Mike and I do not go back in her room once we say goodnight. No talking, No emotion (except a frothing inner anger and frustration threatening to boil over at any second). We were consistent. Still, after 6 weeks!!!!!, it was the same routine night after night:

• read books with Mom or Dad
• say family prayers
• sing and rock with Mom
• get tucked in bed
• scream and cry for an hour (usually, "Mom, come cover me . . . ." over and over and over again after she had purposely uncovered herself just so she could yell and cry, "Mom, come cover me," knowing that I had never given in and covered her again. You would think a 2-year-old would give up after a week of this? Maybe a few days?)

I know lots of 2-year-olds are strong willed. I cannot begin to describe, however, the will and mind of my dear Mariah. She is the most complex creature alive, and none of the tested, tried, and true programs or philosophies seem to work for her (or on her).

So, at my whit's end, I made "Mariah's Bedtime Chart." I sat Mariah down and told her for every night that she had no problems, she would get a sticker on her chart. After she earned 7 stickers, she would get 2 starbursts (which we put in the baggie with the stickers, hanging on the fridge). (I never have any idea what to expect from methods I try with Mariah. She has never been a textbook child. I had not yet tried the reward system with bedtime because with potty training, it totally backfired on us. So much attention and pressure to do well freaked Mariah out. She threw up for 5 days and would not go #2 for almost as long. She's still in diapers; at some point, I imagine she'll get tired of it and train herself. Needless to say, I was hesitant to try the positive reinforcement system again.)

Well, I was shocked and so very pleased at the quick results! It actually worked! Not only did she go 7 straight nights without a problem (she was absolutely silent), but within 2 days, I was so much more relaxed, which made her relax more (and she was fully rested), and our on-going power struggle has minimized to what I would say is a very normal 2-year-old level. We have a completely different relationship, she and I. The very normal (and frequent) 2-year-old outbursts and misbehavior are no longer the final straw of a mile-high haystack. I'm able to react truly with no emotion (neither exhibited nor internal), and the problems go away very quickly.

(I tried to upload a cute video of Mariah explaining the whole thing, but it wouldn't work. I'll try posting it later).

Now I'm okay with OK!

We found a pool!! It closes in a week for this season, but next year . . . oh, yes! We will definitely have a season pass.

Neither child would stay still long enough for me to get a good picture, but you get the idea . . . we had a great time!

Planets and Lamanites

Mariah says funny things all the time. She's always pulling out random big words and concepts she's learned who-knows-where. I need to be better at documenting the funny things she says.

Here are 2 from today:

1. I was eating pasta salad, and one of the peas got stuck in the middle of an olive ring. Mariah thought that was funny and commented, "Mom, that pea is stuck in the olive!" She then said, "Mom, it turned into a planet!"

2. This one's for all parents who wonder if family scripture study with little ones is really doing anything: Mariah and Elaine were playing with headbands. Laney asked me to put one on her head. It ended up around her forehead and the back of her head, instead of on top of her head. Mariah started laughing, and then said, "Laney's a Lamanite!!"

*The photo has nothing to do with the stories. Mariah was enjoying some cherries the other day.

Kansas Cousins (and a Sister)

I love living close to sisters!! (In Oklahoma, "close" is used loosely.) Marian lives in Kansas, about 2 1/2 hours away. We've lived here for 6 weeks, and I've already seen her 3 times! Joanne lives in Texas, about 6 hours away, and we've already seen her once.

This past week, I drove up to Marian's house with the girls to give Mike a few days of quiet study time. (He has another test tomorrow.) We had so much fun, and Marian and I got so much done! We mowed the lawn and weeded, set up the kids' little tikes slides outside, painted 3 bathrooms, and did some reorganizing in the kitchen. And we went to the zoo!

Lips

Mariah is somewhat intrigued by the fact that Mike kisses me on the lips, but usually only kisses her forehead or cheek. After family prayer, on his way out the door, Mike dishes out the kisses. Mariah always puckers up, in hopes that she'll get one on the lips. She knows there's something special about that.

The other day, she said something about how Daddy kisses Mommy on the lips. I said, "Yep. When you're a mom, will your husband kiss you on the lips?" She seemed pretty excited about that prospect.

So, today, she did her usual hopeful pucker. Mike kissed her forehead. She asked, "Should you kiss me on the lips?" So, he did. She very excitedly announced, "I'm a mom!!"

I do love my 2-year-old . . . .

After that last post (and because of everyday life), I need to remind myself how cute my Mariah is, and that I really do love her . . . a lot. Here are some random pictures of her over the past few weeks:

Mariah loves building things right now.

Playing in the sprinkler.

Relaxing in the pool.

She still loves headbands.

"What does a lion say?"

Playing at a park.

A few of my favorite things:

• Once in a while, she'll really like something I wear. She says, "Mama's a princess!" I really like that.
• She's a very cute dancer and jumper.
• She knows the words to tons of songs and sings them to herself at random times. I heard her in her bed the other night, conducting a little nursery class for her bears. She would sing a song, in its entirety, say, "Yay, good job!" ask, "What other song should we sing?" and then sing another. She was belting, "The wise man built . . ." (which I didn't know she knew; I've never sung it with her) when she abruptly stopped, mid-sentence, and fell asleep.
• She loves sleeping in the car, which makes her a perfect traveler.
• She loves helping me do laundry.
• She makes up words. Good ones. Words that really sound like they should be real and should be used just as she's using them. Unfortunately, I cannot think of one of her words right now.
• She "reads" books word for word, from cover to cover.
• Sometimes when I'm sitting down at her level (or she's climbed up to mine), she'll start rubbing my shoulders with her little 2-year-old hands, and ask, "Mom, can I give you a 'sage (as in MAssage)?"

White Coat Ceremony

Before school started, Mike had what they call a White Coat Ceremony. It's a somewhat formal, special occasion, akin to graduation, but before school starts. The faculty and administration conduct a meeting held in a church; a speaker is brought in to talk about ethics and the dental code of conduct. Each student signs the oath and then gets a white dentist's coat with his name on it.

Unfortunately, the meeting was just a few days after we moved here, and I didn't know anybody. I had to take the girls with me. Mariah was on one of her let-me-see-if-I-can-push-all-of-mom's-buttons kicks; Elaine was wild and not helping anything. Both girls were being way too loud for a chapel (and as you can imagine, there were very few children in attendance). Mariah would not stay on our bench and was purposely doing the opposite of everything I said. Elaine was just being a squirrel--a loud one.

I finally strapped Mariah in the stroller and took her out to the foyer. I left her there for a few minutes and then let her try again. Bad idea. Things just got worse. The event was far enough in the past that I'm having trouble now remembering specific details, but by the end of the meeting, I was in tears. I had tried everything. I even stole a prayer sheet and pen for each girl from the pew in front of us.

We had seats on the side of the chapel, with the benches perpendicular to the main congregation, so all the faculty, staff, and students on the stand could see us quite well, in addition to the whole congregation. I was embarrassed and overwhelmed, to say the least. I just kept thinking to myself, as Mike looked down very sympathetically to me and sternly at the girls, "Well, here we go . . . . four years of me with no husband, and these crazy kids."

Well, it has not been so bad since. Mike does an amazing job of being very present when he's home; we eat dinner together, and he and I put the kids to bed together. He doesn't pull out the books until after the kids are down. And we will hopefully never again repeat that experience.

Mike signing the dental oath.

Mike getting his coat.

Mariah's artwork. This is what happened when I turned my back for a few seconds to take Mike's picture.

A closer look.

You can't really see it, but Elaine has pen on her forehead and around her left eye. I don't know who the artist was--she or her big sister.

Mike giving us his sympathetic/stern look from the stage.