Dear Maia,
You are two years old and, yet, I spend entirely too much time panicking about your "upcoming" teenage years. I am not worried because of your early signs of rebellion (you just won't sleep when I want you to) but because of what I always see around me and the way it is portrayed in the American media. Terrible images and stories of teenage girls hating or disrespecting their mothers. [Book I shouldn't have read: "Queen Bees and Wannabes". Movie I shouldn't have watched (based on true story, I think): "Thirteen".]
I hope I'll manage to drown out the peer choir and teach you how unacceptable such words are for a child to say to their parent. I never even thought that way about my parents, let alone say stuff like that, and I hope you won’t either.
It won’t be hard to keep loving your dad, since he is a sweetheart (and push-over;) with you most of the time. I always have to play the tough cop to make sure all goes well. That kinda sucks, actually (and excuse my language). I wish I could take you into bed at night, cuddle with you, let you stay up late, give you ice-cream every day, and buy you every toy under the sky to never make you cry …. but, of course, I can’t do that, for I would like you to become a well-balanced and normal adult one day.
Anyway, I would like to note for posterity that I LOVE YOU VERY MUCH WITH ALL MY HEART AND THAT WILL NEVER EVER CHANGE NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS or what attitudes we might develop in your teenage years. Hopefully I will do a good job in raising you and we won’t have such a phase. Oh God, please. Anyway, I love you, baby.
Thursday, August 5, 2004
Thursday, July 15, 2004
Toddler Survival
I thought, you may enjoy some excerpts from my blog (or not):
Did somebody slip extasy into my daughter’s milk?
First of all, I admire all women who stay at home with young children and manage not to go insane.
I think, I would have to be placed on suicide-watch if I had to do this (stay home with two young ones) all day, every day of the year.
I wonder, how 2-year-olds make it to their third birthday, at all. I mean, we can't expect every parent to be knowledgeable, reasonable, well-read or somewhat controlled. Not that I am any or all of that but maybe, at least, some of it. How did toddlers survive in medieval times? How do they survive with someone who has no understanding of a child at this age? -- I mean, at the moment, I just want to beat her all day and if I didn't know better I probably would. She is driving me up the wall and only a mother will understand. Now I FINALLY understand the outbursts of my mom. The few ones she had when I was around Maia's age and which I never forgot. A slap in the face, a time-out in the boiler-room, a good shaking in search for any sense in me. Don't get me wrong, these were exceptions to the rule. I was actually raised laissez-faire with very little corporal punishment, however, I remember these few moments like yesterday (although, this saying isn't to be taken literally, for I don't reallly remember what the hell I actually did yesterday).
Because of the impact these forceful actions had on me, I am being very careful (and very grown-up, although, I don't want to be) in order to avoid any traumatic experiences for Maia. But I'm a ticking time-bomb so sooner or later, I'm going to give her that moment of shameful weakness of mine....in which I will probably tell her something really mean or so... and she'll remember it forever.
Toddlers. Keeping you on the edge
Maia might only be two years old but she has the power to bring me to the edge like no other. It's always a different edge, though. Sometimes it's embarrassment, sometimes fear or sheer terror, sometimes frustration, and sometimes laughter that makes you wanna pee in your pants.
Yesterday it was the edge of fear for me.
We
went to Wave Hill (nice little estate nearby, in the Bronx, open to the public). Anyway, we went up to the little fish pond. A very dark
pond full of water-plants and gold-fish. Maia insisted on kneeling on
the edge to dip her hands into the water. I figured, ok, no problem, I keep an eye on her. If she tumbles I'll catch her. I'm prepared. Of course, Maia waited with her
clumsy little self until I had my hands full, helping D with the
baby. And so, at that very moment, in which D and I both were holding the baby,
Maia fell head forward into the deep pond. My reaction was delayed, for I
had to make sure D had Nayla securely. It was only a second, but enough for Maia to be completely submerged in the black water, making it difficult for me to get a quick and good grip on her. Poor thing was
under water for a good 10-15 seconds until I finally was able to get her out. She took a
moment to catch a breath and then broke into tears. My knees were
bloody, for I had thrown myself onto the ground with just a skirt on.
Thankfully, I was able to make her laugh it off, although terror was
thriving inside of me. All the what-ifs were twirling around in my
head...This is actually one of the big fears of mine...involving my
kids, still so little. Pools, car-accidents, and for some reason...kidnappings, although, those appear to be statistically highly improbable.
Probable or not - those fears all give me nightmares.
Well, let me jot down a few funny episodes as not to depress myself....
We went to the pharmacy and as we are standing in line I explain to Maia that I need to get cream for Nayla's thrush. Maia looks at me with determination and explains at the top of her lungs. "Mami, I need to get cream, too!" She turns around bends over and points directly to her tush "...for my BUTTHOLE." ...
I was a bit in shock. Once again, I found myself confronted with the teachings of D to my little daughter. ...butthole... who says that?!...
A worse anecdote related to his teachings, however, is when we (Maia and I) went to the store a few days ago and as she is sitting in the shopping cart she lifts her behind halfway in the air and lets one rip so loud (and adult-sounding) that everyone around us just turned their heads in shock.
A frightening moment of silence....everyone thinking that was me.... me not being able to blame it on Maia, for that would just sound childish and unbelievable .... and then, thank GOD, ...she calls out proudly : " MAMIII, I passed GAS! :D"
One more detail before I finish this entry:
You’ve started abbreviating everyone’s name for a while. You call Daddy - Dad , me – Mom and your babysitter Nancy – Nance. ;)
Did somebody slip extasy into my daughter’s milk?
First of all, I admire all women who stay at home with young children and manage not to go insane.
I think, I would have to be placed on suicide-watch if I had to do this (stay home with two young ones) all day, every day of the year.
I wonder, how 2-year-olds make it to their third birthday, at all. I mean, we can't expect every parent to be knowledgeable, reasonable, well-read or somewhat controlled. Not that I am any or all of that but maybe, at least, some of it. How did toddlers survive in medieval times? How do they survive with someone who has no understanding of a child at this age? -- I mean, at the moment, I just want to beat her all day and if I didn't know better I probably would. She is driving me up the wall and only a mother will understand. Now I FINALLY understand the outbursts of my mom. The few ones she had when I was around Maia's age and which I never forgot. A slap in the face, a time-out in the boiler-room, a good shaking in search for any sense in me. Don't get me wrong, these were exceptions to the rule. I was actually raised laissez-faire with very little corporal punishment, however, I remember these few moments like yesterday (although, this saying isn't to be taken literally, for I don't reallly remember what the hell I actually did yesterday).
Because of the impact these forceful actions had on me, I am being very careful (and very grown-up, although, I don't want to be) in order to avoid any traumatic experiences for Maia. But I'm a ticking time-bomb so sooner or later, I'm going to give her that moment of shameful weakness of mine....in which I will probably tell her something really mean or so... and she'll remember it forever.
Toddlers. Keeping you on the edge
Maia might only be two years old but she has the power to bring me to the edge like no other. It's always a different edge, though. Sometimes it's embarrassment, sometimes fear or sheer terror, sometimes frustration, and sometimes laughter that makes you wanna pee in your pants.
Yesterday it was the edge of fear for me.
 |
| Wave Hill Pond [photo by TripAdvisor Member] |
Probable or not - those fears all give me nightmares.
Well, let me jot down a few funny episodes as not to depress myself....
We went to the pharmacy and as we are standing in line I explain to Maia that I need to get cream for Nayla's thrush. Maia looks at me with determination and explains at the top of her lungs. "Mami, I need to get cream, too!" She turns around bends over and points directly to her tush "...for my BUTTHOLE." ...
I was a bit in shock. Once again, I found myself confronted with the teachings of D to my little daughter. ...butthole... who says that?!...
A worse anecdote related to his teachings, however, is when we (Maia and I) went to the store a few days ago and as she is sitting in the shopping cart she lifts her behind halfway in the air and lets one rip so loud (and adult-sounding) that everyone around us just turned their heads in shock.
A frightening moment of silence....everyone thinking that was me.... me not being able to blame it on Maia, for that would just sound childish and unbelievable .... and then, thank GOD, ...she calls out proudly : " MAMIII, I passed GAS! :D"
One more detail before I finish this entry:
You’ve started abbreviating everyone’s name for a while. You call Daddy - Dad , me – Mom and your babysitter Nancy – Nance. ;)
Friday, June 18, 2004
Love at First Sight
To my sweet Maia:
You are now 2 and ½ years old. You are so articulate already. The speech pathologist, who lives down the block from us, says you are really advanced for your age. She didn’t need to tell me. It is obvious. You are able to say full sentences, you make abstract observations (that’s too far, too loud, …etc.), and you are much more interested in social connections than your peers. You say hello to everyone who crosses your path. Often you engage the person in conversation and you’re just a sweetie-pie. People love you and are surprised by your communication skills and your lack of fear of strangers. I’m a bit concerned about that, actually. Living in America, in a big city and all.
People have always responded to you. Even when you were only a few months old. Every time I left the house with you I would get stopped at least once or twice by passers-by who needed to share with me how beautiful you were or how much you looked like the Gerber baby. ;)
***
You love your baby-sister Nayla.
The day she came home from the hospital was the first time you ever said you LOVED someone, even though I had been telling you about love for a long time. I would always say .. “Mommy loooves Maia. Daddy loooves Maia. Grandma loooves Maia. “ etc. and you would always, although very wholeheartedly, reply: “ Maia liiiikes Mommy, Maia likes Daddy etc.”.
But when we brought Nayla home from the hospital and we let you hold her, you seemed to struggle for special words which would adequately describe your exhilaration, I suppose, and you finally said, “Mommy.... Maia looves the baby sooo much!”
***
You are a real girly-girl. I don’t know where you got it from but the stereotypes are true for little boys and girls, I tell you. All the boys your age prefer to play with cars and trains and such. All the girls prefer more “girly” things to play with. You, however, are more feminine than most. You have had a shoe-fetish since the day you were able to take a step. I am not kidding. You walk without the slightest bit of trouble in any and all high heels.
You are now 2 and ½ years old. You are so articulate already. The speech pathologist, who lives down the block from us, says you are really advanced for your age. She didn’t need to tell me. It is obvious. You are able to say full sentences, you make abstract observations (that’s too far, too loud, …etc.), and you are much more interested in social connections than your peers. You say hello to everyone who crosses your path. Often you engage the person in conversation and you’re just a sweetie-pie. People love you and are surprised by your communication skills and your lack of fear of strangers. I’m a bit concerned about that, actually. Living in America, in a big city and all.
People have always responded to you. Even when you were only a few months old. Every time I left the house with you I would get stopped at least once or twice by passers-by who needed to share with me how beautiful you were or how much you looked like the Gerber baby. ;)***
You love your baby-sister Nayla.
The day she came home from the hospital was the first time you ever said you LOVED someone, even though I had been telling you about love for a long time. I would always say .. “Mommy loooves Maia. Daddy loooves Maia. Grandma loooves Maia. “ etc. and you would always, although very wholeheartedly, reply: “ Maia liiiikes Mommy, Maia likes Daddy etc.”.
But when we brought Nayla home from the hospital and we let you hold her, you seemed to struggle for special words which would adequately describe your exhilaration, I suppose, and you finally said, “Mommy.... Maia looves the baby sooo much!”
***
You are a real girly-girl. I don’t know where you got it from but the stereotypes are true for little boys and girls, I tell you. All the boys your age prefer to play with cars and trains and such. All the girls prefer more “girly” things to play with. You, however, are more feminine than most. You have had a shoe-fetish since the day you were able to take a step. I am not kidding. You walk without the slightest bit of trouble in any and all high heels.
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