What Gina Ford taught me…

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 21, 2013 in observations | 0 comments

Dear Max

Up until about two weeks ago, I was feeling more than a little out of control with the parenting thing. I mean, I know there are rough and challenging patches, but I felt out of control, and unable to say no, nor even set rules and boundaries for you – let alone follow them through. You were also a bit sick, and I reckon it was all connected, but I’m not sure which came first.

So last week your dad and I met to chat about rules and routine – and how we can initiate more structure, and make you feel “safer” with consistency. Fortunately we’re both on the exact same page with the same goals and similar parenting style.

What I think happened was that I got “soft”, and unable to see you frustrated, angry or sad, so I would do anything to prevent that – even if it meant giving you your way a lot. And then a psychologist explained that I’m probably doing a lot of overcompensating, that it’s okay for you to feel, and that with so much “freedom”, you actually feel scared and lost with so much power.

So a bit desperate, I tried to follow this approach with more discipline and boundaries, letting you “feel”, lots more communication, and rewards, like our new star chart. And so far, things have just turned around. We have more routine, you’re watching much less TV, you’re eating at the table, you’re sleeping in your own bed (the first night took much persuasion and reassurance) and nighttimes are easier. It’s not smooth all the time, but wow – what a difference some routine makes. Your health is better, you’re more chatty, and mostly less anxious when we drop you off at school.

And I don’t know why I even forgot this. We were in routine from the day you were born with Gina Ford’s Contented Parent Baby Book, and I think it gave us confidence and “security” knowing what was potting, and what was coming next, more or less. And I think the same applies these days, even though you’re older. So for now, this is our way. Even if our way includes occasional chocolate cake for breakfast (eaten at the table, of course!)

xMom

Where the f*&% do all the blankies go?

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 16, 2013 in observations | 0 comments

Dear Max

Look at these pictures carefully… what can you see in all of them, aside from cute you as a toddler?

The answer is the Sleep Sense taglet, aka your “dudu”. I gave you your first hit of dudu when you were a few months old (having received a few and bought one or two) when I was pregnant.

You love your dudu(s) a lot, and started getting attached from around the age of two. It’s your security blanket, and it’s what you sleep with, feeling the tags while you fall asleep, and clutching it against your face and neck in the night.

Now, I’m not lying or exaggerating when I say we have probably “lost” around 35 dudus in the last few years. Where they go is a complete mystery. I realise, that like lipgloss, lipstick or socks, things get lost/misplaced/left in pockets/misplaced.

But we’re at critical levels now – there’s only one at our house, and one at your dad’s house, after topping up with three new ones three weeks ago. And they’re not cheap. And once or twice, I’ve tried giving you a VERY SPECIAL pashmina, or piece of fabric, but you won’t cross over.

Today I had to drop an emergency dudu off at your dad, and the other night your dad raced here to drop off a dudu because we were out and I was putting you to sleep, and because you had shunned all my scarves, pashminas and other brands of taglets.

So, where are all the dudus going? You don’t take them to school, I doubt anyone would steal taglets with “Max” written on both sides in black marker, and I’m quite sure you don’t give them away.

Although Gina our dog has been known to rip things apart, she doesn’t really swallow them, and we haven’t come across any shards of dudu. You are also pretty good at keeping each dudu on hand when we go out, though lately you just use them at home.

So, like existential questions such as “who are we?” and “why are we here”, here’s my question: “WTF do all the dudus go?”

Yours in searching,

Mom

Mother’s Day – filled with Hello Kitty, tantrums, hugs and kisses

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 14, 2013 in Uncategorized | 0 comments

Dear Max

It was Mother’s Day on Sunday and you (thanks to your dad) gave me awesome HK pyjamas that were wrapped in HK wrapping paper. It was perfection!

I also got the most beautiful card of your handprints that you made at school, and which makes my eyes leak every time I read it.

You had two tantrums that I couldn’t talk you out of, and had to let pass until you calmed down. The first was during our run when I took a route you didn’t want to take. And then we went out for brunch which upset you because you wanted to have eggs at home. We didn’t have eggs at home and you got a bit hysterical. Eventually you calmed, and we enjoyed a great early afternoon out where you dished out many hugs and kisses.

I must be honest, Mother’s Day is not my favourite. I guess there’s a small sense of loss, and a lot of the time I feel pressure to “celebrate”, and to do things a certain way. Kind of like Valentine’s Day and New Year’s Eve. The truth is, and this could make a cheesy Hallmark card, but every day is a celebration of being a mom. And while I might not get Hello Kitty or other swag every day, my gift comes from a big little package of rewards and cuddles. And even the occasional tantrum is a reminder of my gift.

Thank you for a great Mother’s Day,

xxMom

Part two of why being an adult sucks sometimes

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 10, 2013 in parenting | 0 comments

Dear Max

So after my last post I received lots of virtual hugs, and interestingly, some comments from moms who have gone through or are going through similar things with their moms.

I don’t write to get attention, and I tend to deduct a lot of the “drama” and very heavy feelings from my life, but writing online does help me feel less alien with my emotions (which I often feel a bit guilty about).

So, Granny is out the hospital and back home recovering. It took us about two hours in hospital to get her packed, discharged and into the car. She is quite immobile, and three of us had to get her into her wheelchair when she got home. She was so happy to get home, and has been set up in a room downstairs to facilitate her moving around.

You were so patient during our shlep to get her home. I promised a quick visit, but you were patient and awesome, and kept me from losing my shit or leaking some tears while I battled with procedures and the settling of bills and signouts.

And then we hit our favourite comfort food, sushi, for a treat. Somehow so many things end in food, whether it’s a celebration, sadness, stress or “just because” (this could explain why I might always have a few kilograms to lose).

It’s been a challenging few days. I’m glad to have my Hello Kitty pyjamas, my son and some loved ones for comfort and comic relief.

xMom

Sometimes being an adult and “mother” sucks

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 7, 2013 in parenting | 0 comments

Dear Max

The last week and a bit has been a bit kak in some ways, and hard to write about or think about much.

Your granny had a fall a week and a half ago, which is “normal” for her stage of brain atrophy, and is likely to happen regularly, says her doctor.

I was called to the emergency ward, and filled out forms, answered a lot of questions and had to go through a lot of admin before she was treated. And thus it began again – my “parenting” of my own mom. It’s not a new thing, but its still a hard thing being a “parent” to her when I still have so much of my own growing to do, and when I’m still feeling a bit mixed up about the situation, and how we got to this place.

I don’t write about it a lot, and when you’re older I’ll tell you all about Granny’s headaches, brain operation, treatments, medication, sadness and “decline”. How we placed her in a great care facility when I was pregnant with you, and how she isn’t able to do a lot without assistance these days.

You and Granny when you were a baby

I am angry and sad we are here. I am cross that she’s not okay or fully functional, I’m cross that I’m playing the role of “mom” to her when I so badly crave her to be my mom, and I’m cross that she’s in pain at the moment in hospital, not really knowing what’s happening to her.

I’m upset too – for her decline, and for her own sadness that I don’t think she ever resolved. And I miss her so much. Though she was never always a functioning mom like other moms, she always told me she loved me, could make the best cup of tea, and was always just there with that cup of tea after a crap day at work, or when I was sick, or after a bad blind date.

And how she loves you. She brightens up when she sees you, and when I saw her straight after surgery, the first thing she said to me was “where’s Max?”. I have taken you to see her almost every day, and you’ve been so great about it. We all know hospitals aren’t the happiest places, and I know how hard and disconcerting it is to see people sick and immobile.

But each time you go, you make Granny’s day by being there, and through your gentleness. You also offer Granny a plaster for her hip every time, and ask her if she’s better. At times like these you teach me how to move past the fear and the resentment, and accept what is, and what isn’t.

You’re a wonderful grandson,

xMom

The “private parts” conversation has already started!

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on May 2, 2013 in parenting | 2 comments

Dear Max

For the past few weeks, we’ve been bathing in the evenings together. It’s not something I planned, and I think at the time it was a way to get you into the bath in the first place. And it worked. And when something works for a toddler, and it’s not costing you lots of money or angst, or destruction, you continue with it. And so we bath together most nights.

Me, you and a bottle of Matey bubble bath (may I just mention here that in my day, a capful could get you a bath full of bubbles. These days a few capfuls get us a measly few handfuls of bubbles).

At some point in our bathing history I called myself “Mommy hippo”, which might have something to do with the fact that I feel like a hippo next to such a cute little dude like yourself. And so I’m mommy hippo, and you’re baby hippo, and together the hippos soak in the tub each night you’re here.

For now, it’s fun and it’s good bonding time, and it’s half an hour that we can chat about life, your birth, the universe, bubbles, and the workings of floating, sinking and draining.

You love asking how I got the scars on my knees, and you point out where you lived in my tummy, and I show you my neat Caesar scar, and I tell you about the day you were born, and how it was the best moment of my life.

And it was bound to happen that you would get curious, but I wasn’t quite ready for your questions: “What is that (pointing to my girl-bits)?” “What is my willy called?” “Why do I have a willy?” “Why do you have a winky?” (note: after a tough decision and some crowd sourcing on Facebook, I have decided to call our parts willy and winky. For everyone it’s different, but at this age and stage, I feel comfortable with these terms).

So as unprepared as I’ve been, I’ve tried to be as honest as possible in response to your curiosity, and since I don’t want you to have to Google the word penis one day (I looked at World Book encyclopedia when I was a child), I’d rather be the source of good information.

I also gave you one of “the talks” – that no one was allowed to touch your willy without permission or at all, and that if anyone touched it, you need to tell me. And that you weren’t allowed to touch anyone’s private parts at this stage.

Jees my little dude. I hope I’m guiding you enough. (Moms – please help. What do you answer? How do you guide your kids in these early days?)

Conversations in the car: Fireman Sam, the Standard Bank building and bad drivers

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on Apr 25, 2013 in parenting | 0 comments

Dear Max

One of the best parts of my day is taking you to school (on the days you aren’t moaning about going there, that is). We have great conversations on the way to school, and usually you’re alert, very chatty, and full of questions and observations. Many days we repeat the same sentiments, but other days there are some new quips and songs.

Mostly, a regular conversation would go like this:

Mom: Look, the robot isn’t working again.

Max: Oh no! I’ll call Fireman Sam. (Max speaking in hushed tone in his make-believe phone: “Sam, come fix the robot. Bring Tom. Goodbye. See you soon”

Mom: Oh look, there’s a huge digger!

Max: It’s not a digger. It’s an excavator (Note: I really should know this by now. You point this out daily)

Mom: (Hearing ad on radio, possibly for Wonga, to the tune of Old McDonald, starts singing). Old McDonald had a farm…

Max: Eeyieeyioooo

Mom: And on that farm he had a…

Max: Snake

Mom: Eeyieeyioooo

Max: With a…

Mom: Ssss

Max: Here

Mom: And a sss

Max: There

Mom: Here a

Max: Ssss

Mom: There a

Max: Ssss

Mom: Everywhere a

Max: Ssss Ssss

(repeat with gecko, lizard and spider)

Max: Mom! Why you hooting? (usually asked on Oxford Road)

Mom: Because that man went through the red robot, and almost caused an accident

Max: Oh shame. That’s terrible.

Max: (While passing the new Standard Bank building) Mom! Look! There’s a Bobcat Skid Steer! And that man is digging.

Mom: Wow! And look how the building is taking shape. Can you see the escalators inside?

Max: Wow…

Max: Mom, you’ll stay with me at school for a wittle bit?

Mom: Of course my poppet. I always do.

Max: Yaaay! See mommy, I’m not scared or crying

Mom: I know MaxPax. But you know, it’s okay to be scared, and it’s okay to cry.

Max: (While driving into school) Be careful not to drive over the bunnies. Don’t run over the bunnies!

(Note: Max, you have the memory of an elephant. ONCE, just ONCE, I ALMOST ran over a bunny who darted across my driving path at breakneck speed).

How I love our journeys together…

xMom

These are a few of my favourite things: Part 2 (2013)

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on Apr 23, 2013 in parenting | 0 comments

Dear Max

I was reading through old blog posts and found one that I published last year on April 20, about a few of our favourite things. It was such fun to read back, and see what you liked then, versus what you like now.

I’ve decided to do a similar post, since it’s been a year, and since I am so utterly desperate for a happy/neutral/non-thinking post.

Favourite expression/word

2012

Max: Truck

Mom: Holy crap

2013

Max: I waaaaant

Mom: No

Favourite outfit

2012

Max: Fleece truck pyjamas morning, noon and night

Mom: Converse shoes – a different colour each day

2013

Max: Gum boots, scarf and gloves (gwubs) from Woolies, and a beautiful blanket your late great granny made many years ago

Mom: Onesie pyjamas

Favourite hobby/activity

2012

Max: Looking at pictures of trucks, and YouTube videos of trucks/diggers/cranes

Mom: Blogging/Pinterest

2013

Max: Looking at pictures of reptiles, reading books, school extramural activities

Mom: Reading, watching new series

Favourite drink

2012

Max: Milk

Mom: Coke Lite in a bottle

2013

Max: Milk, and rooibos tea

Mom: Cadbury’s lite hot chocolate

Favourite food

2012

Max: Chicken and pumpkin

Mom: Wine Gums

2013

Max: Sushi (you would have it every day if you could)

Mom: Sushi

Most overused word/expression

2012

Max: I want to see (insert truck/digger/crane/cement mixer)

Mom: Holy crap

2013

Max: I waaaant

Mom: No Max

Favourite apps

2012

Max: Swapsies and Toca Boca Kitchen

Mom: DrawSomething and Reeder

2013

Max: Fireman Sam

Mom: The New Yorker

Favourite TV programme

2012

Max: Shaun the Sheep

Mom: The Good Wife

2013

Max: Fireman Sam

Tanya: The Good Wife and Greys Anatomy

Favourite book

Max: My Big Book of Trucks

Mom: Bloom

2013

Max: My Book of Reptiles and Snakes

Mom: Juggling about five on Kindle

Worst activity/chore

2012

Max: Getting out of truck pyjamas

Mom: Dressing you, and waking up when it’s dark and cold to go running

2013

Max: Eating at the table, brushing teeth, putting things down (you call me to put things down), picking things up

Mom: Trying to get you to do any of the above

Latest discovery

2012

Max: Talking and singing to yourself

Mom: Essie’s Glamour Purse (I know I said no more Essie because it chips, but I adore this colour!).

2013

Max: Cadbury’s Bubbly

Mom: Onesies!

Feature image via Freedigitalimages.com

7 things that happened last week (that I didn’t blog about)

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on Apr 17, 2013 in parenting | 0 comments

Dear Max

The last week and a half or so have been filled with you being sick, and me being thrown as a result. I experienced your first fever, your refusal to take meds by mouth (not even buckling to lures of Lego, sushi and milkshakes). After two trips to the paed (also a first for us – we only go to the paed for your annual checkups), you are on the mend, and your bronchitis and chronic constipation are hopefully behind us. At the ass end of things.

Here’s what else happened last week:

- I got a bit sick too: cough, cold and blahness. I treated it with an assortment of meds recommended by Twitter, and I felt so much better. I still have the cough when I exercise, and might suck up my pride and go to a doctor to treat it. I had it before and during Comrades last year, and it was crap.

- I went to Cape Town for the launch of the new Ford Kuga. What a cool car! It’s on my “Mom’s next car” wishlist, along with the Mercedes Benz B Class.

- I saw my dietitian and got a rude awakening with a weight gain. I don’t know what I weigh or how much I’ve put on because I insisted on turning away from the scale. I hate carrying extra, I hate that I’m not reaching my goal, and I hate that I eat mindlessly. I’m trying to get back on the road and keeping food records (a stark exercise in humiliation when I’m writing down things like 6 plums, or a huge tube of choc chip yoghurt, or 14 sugar-free sweets).

- We had a chef from McCain come and cook for us. It was quite a treat, and you scoffed the beer-battered fish.

- I officially and properly decided to run Comrades. I’ve been debating, and I’ve been on the fence, but I’m so keen to run it again.

- I ran the SlowMag Marathon, in an unspectacular time, and feeling spectacularly crap. I started off with a cold, and battled a bit with a tight chest and cough.

- You have been whining about getting a skateboard, and I’ve resisted because a) the ones I’ve seen are expensive and b) I think you’re too young and I’m not sure what you would do with it. This challenge was solved when Saul found you a little R80 skateboard. So far, you aren’t interested in riding it. You are simply holding it close, and i won’t be surprised if you insist on bathing with it, and sleeping with it.

I hope you get fully better soon, and that we can get back into a healthier routine.

xMom

That which doesn’t thrill us, makes us stronger

Posted by Tanya Kovarsky on Apr 4, 2013 in fun | 0 comments

His and hers

Dear Max

The stiffness has almost subsided, and I’m ready to hit the road running again.

Last week I ran my 11th Two Oceans Marathon, and it went superbly. I had fun, I felt good, and had no problems on the way, which is everything one hopes for on the day. I finished in one of my slower times, but at this point it doesn’t really matter. Based on my training, my goals and where I’m at, it was just perfect (you can read more about it here, on my running blog Keep Running.

I had entered you for the 56m Nappy Dash – your second in your little life. The first you “did” when you were two, and it’s so interesting how your experience two years ago wasn’t so different this time, despite so much buildup and excitement from your side.

This is what I blogged two years ago:

Then it was a mad dash -literally – to UCT for the 56m Nappy Dash. I wish I could say that you loved it, wanted to get out my arms and onto the field for a beautiful totter alongside other happy toddlers and babies, but then I would be lying (plus my Twitter feeds said otherwise). You were clingy, miserable, only wanted to be with your dad, and once you were reluctantly out his arms, you pretty much wailed until the finish line. I have often cried on finish lines for very different reasons, and I do hope that if you want to one day, by choice (and not your mother’s insistence), you can get to cross finish lines with tears of joy, or bigger smiles on your face.

And here are the pics from then – same race, just younger and curlier.

This year went pretty much the same. You got onto the field and refused to walk, insisting on staying in my arms. You refused to get down when the run started, and I made the rookie mistake of running a bit then putting you down, which you would have none of. In fact, I’m pretty sure your cries reached some kind of octave record.

It’s not that you’re lacking fitness or ability to run – I know this because I do a lot of running after you. You have also grown up running – your parents have run 27 Two Oceans between them, and you in fact “ran” Two Oceans 21km when I was pregnant with you.

Rather, the crowds probably put you off, and your complete disinterest in conforming to what everyone else is doing.

But once you were across the line, still in my arms you took a medal and a goodie bag, and were too tired to walk back to the car so I had to carry you all the way back. Uphill. And up a ton of steps. I was not in a good mood, and nor were you, and I was happy to leave and go for lunch where you proudly wore your medal and played with the toys from your goodie bag.

I think I’m needing a little more endurance to do that again next year, though maybe it’s made me a bit stronger. Whichever, let’s take it step by step.

xMom

Carbo-loading before the Dash

Post-race fuel

Ecstasy before the agony