What I did on my summer vacation

We Zanklins had a pretty fun and exciting summer. We had several camping trips (let's see if I can remember them all: Slide Ranch, Olema w/ the preschool, Echo Lake, Big Basin Redwoods, Glacier...), fun visitors (Nona, Stacy Jesse & Charlie, Nana & Pa, & Nona), and fun around town (beaches, zoos, animals, rides, oh my!). But, apparently, one of the most memorable things for Molly was just playing in the living room.

Here's the full story: While Nona was here (and I was sick, again) she took Molly over to Oscars to play with Nate & Oscar. Nate was excited to share stories about his pirate cruise in Cape Cod. Oscar was excited to share stories of his trip to Australia and Fiji. When asked what she did this summer, Molly replied: "I played in the living room!".

I take that as a reminder that usually the best things for kids are the simplest things. And there seems to be some research to back it up. My friends over at the Greater Good "Half Full" blog (http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/tools.html) have a few posts on this topic, including this one about Play and Academic Success (hint: more free play is good). While you're there, check out the posts about praise and gratitude. Oh, heck. All the information they dig up is good.

Reading Rainbow

Scene: Sofia enters Molly's room at the end of her afternoon "one hour rest" (she doesn't like to call it nap time lest she be pigeonholed into actually napping). Molly is looking at books in her bed.

Sofi: Your hour is over.
Molly: I'm reading books!
S: That's great.
M: But I don't know how to read!
S: That's okay, you can look at the pictures.
M: Can you teach me to read?

So much for my Waldorfian visions of letting her wait until first grade to read. I should have known I never had a chance with her dads early reading and my own self-starter reading pre-Waldorf first grade.

We proceeded to talk about letters having sounds, letters making words, etc. "Dhuh!" "Dhuh!" she says. "That's the sound that D makes!".

Zach suggested making letter cards, so we sat down and made a few cards with letters (she already recognizes them all) and short word/picture combinations on the back. Any other suggestions on how to channel this reading excitement without turning it into a chore? Or where to start with this?

Minivans, explained

We don't have one, but I finally understand why they became so popular in the 80's (or was it the 90's?). Once parents were required to strap their kids into car seats, they could no longer fit three across in the backseat. So, if they wanted to go anywhere with more than four people (parents + 2 kids), like, say, a guest or a friend or perhaps even another child, they needed a third row of seats.

That is, unless you're Zach and you're okay wedging yourself between the carseats and sitting sideways (and that's going to protect you in case of an accident how?).

research-based parenting

When I finished graduate school I joined the alumni association as a lifetime member because they offered a ridiculously low one-time fee for recent graduates and because it was clear Zach and I were planning on staying in the area for a while. It hasn't actually been that useful, but two interesting/helpful things have come of it: 1) the lost key return program - When you join they give you a magic key chain. On one side it has the Berkeley insignia and on the other side it promises postage paid to return the keys if found. I figured I had nothing but my keys to lose and put it on my keychain. And guess what. I lost my keys (imagine that!), and they were actually returned! 2) they send an alumni magazine every month that is, as Zach put it, actually interesting. My point is not that I'm really happy that I didn't lose my keys permanently that one time. Rather, it's to point out something interesting I found in the magazine a few months ago: the Greater Good Science Center [http://peacecenter.berkeley.edu/]. This research unit at UC Berkeley is "devoted to the scientific understanding of happy and compassionate individuals, strong social bonds, and altruistic behavior" and committed "to helping people apply scientific research to their lives" (yes, there's a research center in Berkeley devoted to feeling good). Anyhow, the point of the article was to point out one of the research centers new endeavours - you guessed it, research based parenting. Through short videos and blog posts a sociologist "gives moms and dads practical tools for raising happy and emotionally literate kids." Turns out a lot of the information is useful for every part of life, not just parenting, but it's focused on kids (actually, parents). Recent topics have included forming good habits, and how to fight with your partner. Good stuff. :)

big girls

This week marked milestones for both girls: Molly gave up the pacifier & Clara figured out how to bring her hands together.

It's been three nights for Molly - so far we're doing alright. When she started chewing through her pacifiers late last summer we struck a deal with her: when she chews a hole in the pacifier, we throw it away. And we're not getting any more (at one point when we discussed the deal Molly replied with "yeah, and then you can go to the pacifier store and get another one"). There were a couple close calls this fall when we got down to one or two pacifiers and none of us were really ready to kick the habit. I realized we'd painted ourselves in a corner and went to the store to try to find replica's of pacifiers from the past. We only had to use one "replica" and I don't think Molly really bought our story that we found one of her old pacifiers. But she went along with it.

Either way, Zach cut the cord, so to speak, a three nights ago when she really had chewed through her last pacifier. He got buy-in from her, she threw it away, they talked about what that meant, and she went to sleep. Last night when I put her to bed she asked for a pacifier and I reminded her that we were done with them. Tonight when Zach put her to bed she started to ask for a pacifier and then remembered that there were none. In all, I think I'm more worried about it than she is, but we'll see what happens in the next few days. I also worried that she'd be frustrated with Clara having a pacifier. I even tried to get Clara to use a pacifier that looks nothing like Molly's, but she actually prefers one of Molly's old pacifiers. Don't ask me how that happened, but Molly either doesn't realize it's one of hers or doesn't mind. And, given how sweet Molly has been with Clara recently it very well may be the later.

times

So, I have this trick I'm trying to use to help me get through the rough nights/mornings/afternoons/moments and to remember that it's really not all bad: I just try to conjure up one of the many many many wonderful moments we do have here.

Like last weekend when we went up to Inspiration Point. Even though I gave up walking and turned around after less than a half a mile, we ended up sitting on the picnic table under the pine trees and spending some time as a family. Zach cuddled Clara, Molly asked a million questions, explored the pine cones, the trees, the dirt, and the rocks, and announced that the roots she was stepping on were "like straws for the trees!" When I took Clara to nurse, Zach and Molly romped around, sang songs, and looked at the sky. Them's nice times.

Or one of the many many times that Clara cuddles up on my chest and sleeps securely, preciously, deeply, doing the difficult work of growing that body & brain.

Or the last two nights when I've laid down with Molly at night to put her to bed. We chat about the day (Did Zane take the helicopter from you today? And you didn't like it? And you took it back? Did Lupe help you? And next time you will use your words?) or about made up things (I'm a monster and I'm going to nibble on your toes!). And then I ask her to be still and she begs me to "lie with me for just one minute!" over and over again ("just one more minute"). And we negotiate - stillness and quietness for cuddles. And then, on a good night, her breathing becomes rhythmic and I roll her over and say goodnight, just a little sad that she doesn't ask for the Goodnight Story anymore, and just a little sad that I can't stay and cuddle all night, but happy that she's secure and sleeping soundly.

It's worked pretty well, and it's nice to remember the good, even though I find it's also really important for me to acknowledge the challenges we're facing right now.

community

We had a really lovely Halloween this year. Our neighbors invited us over to celebrate with them & their 4 year old. Nate & his parents also came. We ordered pizza, stayed up way too late, and generally had a great time. Zach & I watched through bleary eyes as our neighbors took turns holding Clara, entertaining Molly, and feeding all of us. Oscar taught Molly all about trick or treating by role playing trick or treat in the house about a million times, which was great because by the time they were ready to try it out for real on a few of our neighbors they were pros. Zach and I left that evening feeling the blessings of community. Molly left with a new appreciation for "treats" (one a night until the jar runs out - shh, don't tell her that we're raiding her candy while she naps!).

Portrait at 13 days

I did it! I somehow managed to get all three of the other members of the house to sleep at once. Granted, Molly had to do some quick growing up, skip the nightly cuddle, and live with an abreviated "last book" since Clara decided that Molly's bedtime was a good time to settle in for a long nursing. And Clara is only sleeping because I'm still holding her & bouncing her from time to time (my left arm is verrrrry tired). And I had to trick Zach into sleeping. And I'm still awake. But, considering that I've been unable to imagine that I would ever be able to handle both girls on my own, I'm pretty darn proud of myself & figured I'd share!

And now I'll see if I can do the impossible: get me to sleep, too!

The Same, Easier, & More Difficult

I've gotten variations on this question a lot through pregnancy, and now with the baby in arms: "Is it different/easier/more difficult this time?" If I recall correctly (do I recall anything correctly these days?) the pregnancy was all at once: the same, easier, and more difficult.

I had the same nauseous first 4 months. And the same exhausted last month. And the same "it's going to be a boy because you're carrying straight out front" comments. And the same "your belly is tiny/huge" comments. The same constant fear about the baby's well being on the inside. And the same general "I'm not a really comfortable pregnant lady" feeling throughout.

It was easier knowing what to expect. There was much less fear. And I was much less focused on the pregnancy. Actually, that was probably the biggest difference - I was much less focused on it. With Molly I knew to the day how far along the pregnancy was. With Clara, I would recite my approximate due date (mid-October) and let others do the math.

It was more difficult to have a child at home already. In fact, it was exhausting to try to keep up with her. By the end I couldn't even try to. I took maternity leave several weeks earlier this time. At first, I beat myself up over it - wondering why I could "work to the end" with Molly, but not this pregnancy. Then I remembered that with Molly I came home and slept every day and with Clara I came home and tried to keep up with Molly. Big difference.

Now that Clara is on the outside things are, say it with me now: the same, easier, & more difficult.

1, 2, 3 ...

We seem to be all getting healthier and less tantrum-y around here. Turns out I had/have an ear infection, Molly's brain was scrambling to prepare for turning 2, and Zach was exhausted from my temper tantrums.

In the midst of all that, though, I learned a neat toddler parenting trick that makes me feel so clever, even though I in no way thought of it myself. It's as simple as 1-2-3. Oh wait. Actually it is 1-2-3. I watched her Nana use it for fun things, like "On the count of three let's get up in the chiar. 1...2...3... up!" And I put it all together when I read a parent on BPN describing using it to help her kid. Basically, if I feel strongly that she has to do something, like put on her shoes, and she puts up a big fight I stop and tell her in that great parenting "firm but gentle" voice: "I'll count to 3 and then Mama will put your shoes on. OK. 1.... 2.... 3..... shoes on!"

The first two times I tried it I really had to toughen up and follow through. On go the shoes, even if it means she's pounding her fists and I'm wrestling the shoe on. Then, the third time I used it things went a little more smoothly:

Mama: "Time for your diaper Molly."
Molly: "NO diaper!" (turns away to get another book)
Mama: "If you don't put your diaper on I'll count to three and then Mama will put your diaper on"
Molly looks back at the diaper sheepishly while grabbing a bok.
Mama: "OK. 1.... 2.... 3...."
Molly suddenly turns and puts her but right on the diaper. I hide my surprise and close the tabs.

Now that I've used this method a few times it's dawned upon me (oh, I'm ever so brilliant) that it's actually doing two things for Molly: it gives her a few seconds to understand what is going to happen and allows her to have some control over it. Maybe I'll jinx our good luck by saying this, and maybe she'll stop responding to it in a few more days, but for now I've been really amazed at how much it helps things go smoothly. Two nights in a row she's laid down in bed on the count of three. This afternoon she stopped in the middle of a meltdown at the farmer's market over putting a coat on (the fog had rolled in and the temp was quickly dropping) when I said "on the count of three, Mama's going to put your coat on, 1, 2, 3."

So, I may not be the most clever parent, but I figure things out eventually. I guess what they say is true: kids crave consistent boundaries (and a little information about what the heck is going on, and just a touch of input into what will be done to them).

Silver Lake

Every once in a while (and more and more frequently now) it hits us that we've got another person living with us. That may seem obvious, but we're a little slow, so it's taken us a while to catch on.

I remember feeling the beginnings of the change as she was eating more and more. There was a subtle shift in the food we had to have available for us - first boob/milk, then optional snacks, then the absolute requirement of real food. We eat, and therefore she needs to eat, too. Duh. And suddenly the kids menus at restaurants start to make sense (although we still tend to just order things we can share with her).

And then there's the shoes. When she was itsy-bitsy she didn't wear shoes. Then she wore them, but they were itsy-bitsy. At some point over the summer I realized that her shoes weren't going to find a home on their own. So she got a shoe place next to our shoe place at the door.

For Zach, he tells the story of when it dawned upon him that there was another person in the house: he was at home with her - I think she must have been playing behind him or in the other room - he sneezed loudly and he hears a small voice say "bless you!".

And then there was yesterday: I had asked Zach in the morning what he was doing that day. He mentioned errands and I asked if he was going to bike. Molly perked up and said "Bikeride? Bikeride time?" She abandoned her Legos (tm) and started chanting "needshoesandsocks" over and over again as she ran and got her shoes and socks and proceeded to sit down and try to wrestle them on (which she actually can do sometimes!).

So, not only do I need to accept the fact that she's a full-blown kid-person, but I also need to start spelling more things so she doesn't get her hopes up for something that may not happen (like the bike ride - it was too cold).

photos: Molly in the wind; Molly & Mama; Molly examines the stick she found; Nona; Molly does "buffalo shoulders"; Molly; Nona, Mama, & Molly. All on the docks at Silver Lake in Ocracoke, NC.

pseudoephedrine & diphenhydramine adventures

This weekend the entire Zanklinardi family got some lessons in drug use. When trying to relieve congestion to allow sleeping, we learned that not all over the counter decongestants are created equal. One common decongestant relieves congestion and, according to the nice advice nurse at Kaiser, can cause a racing heart, restlessness, anxiety, and high blood pressure. Another is more commonly associated with sleepyness and general sedation.

Guess which one we gave to Molly for two (sleepless) nights in a row? That's right, the first one. Finally, on Sunday, Nona convinced us to check in with Kaiser and see if there was anything else they recommended to keep her comfortable. Um, yes. Don't give her pseudoephedrine when she needs to sleep.

Oh, what a little sleep can do. On Monday Molly was already feeling better. And Nona was getting sick.

(Photos Right: Molly takes the bears "up up up up TOP down down down" the Lego stairs Zach made; Left: Molly chases the chickens;)

Baby or Big Girl?

I remember when Molly first used two words together: we were in Cambridge in August for Angus & Jason's wedding, walking down a major street to our hotel, when a bus passed by and Molly exclaimed: "BIIIIIIIIG ........ tRucK." It was cool. But as with most of her new tricks, she put it back in her pocket and practiced it on her own for a while. She occasionally paired up words in the next few months, but mostly spent time practicing new words, like colors, and animal sounds, and names.

Then, in October, after several weeks of very poor sleeping habits, she made some big developmental leaps, including almost always using pairs of words: "red car!" "brown shoes!" "mama spoon!", and the ever popular "Molly"+ anything (ie. "Molly shoe!" "Molly walk!" "Molly color!" "Molly toy!"). And the other day I noticed she made the leap to three words: "Molly waaaaant-iT!". Fortunately, she's also adding words like "share" and "turn" to her vocabulary. We'll take what we can get.

So, between the increasing verbalization and the new bangs, Molly is really looking like a big kid. Zach and I asked her the other day: "Molly, are you a baby or a big girl?" She looked up from her book briefly to tell us: "Big Girl." Well, a big girl that still loves her Mama and Dada, won't go to bed without her Peetsie and Bear Bear, and knows that a kiss from Mama or Dada makes her bumps feel better.