It’s About Time

 

 

 

Gymnastics

Today, I took Gregory to a “Mommy and Me” gymnastics class at the old gym I was a part of as a child. It was nostalgic, to say the least (although I did quite a bit more than jump and climb around back then!).

Gregory is a bit of an odd duck when it comes to new social situations. Most of the time, he sits off to the side, observing quietly, until he finds something he can feel safe doing. When he finds that, he latches on like a leech and doesn’t let go. After a bit, if we’re lucky, he branches out.

Today was no exception. Guess what they had littered alllll over the floor? BALLS. Of all different shapes and sizes. Gregory was in heaven. For the first half of class, Gregory must have sent at least 3 kids crashing to the ground because he was throwing balls into the dancing/prancing session of “circle time”. The first time I got him to “climb” the circuit of soft obstacles (he was totally mesmerized by the trampoline), he complied. The second time? He gave me a low warning growl (spending too much time with Clarabelle?), reminding me that he wanted the BALLS.

But he became more and more interested in what the other kids were doing as the hour progressed, even voluntarily climbing on the circuit and trying to walk on the straight line velcro-ed to the floor. There were lots of fun songs and group activities, although only half of the kids participated (the other half were climbing and jumping off of everything in sight!).

I took my eyes off Gregory for one second, and when I found him again, he’d run over to the corner, near one of the speakers that was blasting some nonsense song about “staying true to yourself”. And he was dancing. Not any old dancing. River dancing. He had one foot at a time, tapping in front of him to the rhythm, both hands on his hips. Then, he turned sideways and started hopping back and forth. It was the FUNNIEST thing I’ve seen in a long time. I really wish I could’ve gotten it on video.

OH, THE IRONY.

Only wants to throw balls because he’s too manly to play on the gym equipment?

Off in the corner, doing some undeniably feminine river-dancing moves by himself? What???

Then, the whole way home, I could hear Gregory in the backseat talking about it all. Lots of gibberish, but I could make out a few words, mainly, “BALL!” Also, this string of words kept repeating itself: “Home, Dadda! Home, Wee! Home, COOKIE!”. Hmmm…..so I may have had a hard time getting him to leave….caught red-handed, bribing my kid…..

The class meets every Tuesday and Thursday morning, and it’s pretty cheap. I think we’ll be going often!

bad joke eel

I must be more tired than I thought… this had me laughing pretty hard.

As always, courtesy of Pinterest 🙂

Running Out

Would somebody please buy Anthony this onesie?

 

No baby yet. It’s a little disappointing that it didn’t happen when both Joe and David (brother and brother-in-law) were here. Joe is still here for one more day, but David went back to TX this morning.

I guess I just hope that it happens right around 38 weeks. Jesse and I have 2 weeks of Easter break at that time, which would be nice, especially since, as a part time teacher, I don’t have any “actual” sick time. We’ve worked out an arrangement for Jesse’s and my classes to be combined while I’m gone (they’re both 9th grade, mine is the Honors version). It’s not ideal, but it’s better than the school needing to spend money on a sub. I want Jesse to have to deal with this bigger class size (23 people…not too big, right?) for as little time as possible.

In happy news, yesterday my doula gave me a prenatal massage at her peaceful little yoga house that overlooks Pismo Beach. I then went straight to my chiropractor appointment. It was almost enough to fool me into thinking I could do this, “carry a huge baby around” for another couple of weeks!

Tantrum City

I know I’ve talked about what a good boy Gregory is, but he’s not perfect. No no no.

This afternoon, he got an extreme case of “mamma, pay attention to me RIGHT NOW or there will be HELL to pay!”. All of you mothers know what this is. And it’s hard for me to punish, since half of me feels kinda guilty for not having the ability to drop everything and read a book, throw a ball, etc.

Anyways, this meltdown was induced by a huge transgression on my part– I decided to multi-task. I know, God forbid. I had the AUDACITY to try and feed G his applesauce while finishing the 2012-13 book list for 9-12th grades at school.

After giving me two solid SHRIEKS without his desired result, Gregory walked over to the counter stools. Angrily, he took one and attempted to throw it at me! In reality, all he did was manage to lift it slightly as he tipped it over. But the angry look he shot me when it crashed to the ground…oh man.

I held back laughter at his feeble attempt to make me mad. I walked over, bent down (an incredible feat, considering the size of Mr. Anthony’s buttocks sticking out of my belly button), took him squarely by the shoulders, and looked him in the eye.

“There will be NO MORE of that. All done.” I said, rather calmly, (I felt) and sat back down.

G obviously had a different opinion. He grabbed ANOTHER stool and attempted to throw it at me. Round 2 of the death glare.

So, I did what Jesse and I had agreed on. I scolded him in a stern voice, gave him a quick swat on the hand, and carried him straight to his crib. I set him in it, without even bothering to remove his shoes. I didn’t give him a paci or turn on his white noise– both indications of a nap. I just said, “You need a timeout. You need to calm down and be good for mama.”

And I let him scream– for 2 minutes. Just enough time to work in Potty Break #57 of the day.

I went back and got him. He immediately stopped crying when I picked him up. I said a few things about how he needed to be a good boy, and brought him back to the scene of the crime. I set him down and said, “You need to pick up the stools and apologize to mama.”

And you know what? He tried rather valiantly. Unfortunately, they’re a little heavy, so within 5 seconds he let out another frustrated screech. In order to avoid an unnecessary meltdown, “we” picked the stools up together. He even helped me push them back in.

And, wonder of wonders, he even let me blow his nose without resistance! Normally, he makes it sound like I am trying to remove his eyeballs.

And then he was good. No more tantrums!

Gregory really is a sweet boy. He has such a sweet and giving heart. I see this most in his behavior towards our dog– he is the first to remind us every morning that she needs to go outside. He pets her constantly and tries to hug her at least a dozen times a day. He breaks into the pantry, just to try and find her treats (occasionally, he helps himself as well…whew fish breath!!). He says thank you” to EVERY.LITTLE.THING. and always says please when we ask him to. He loves prayer time and holds still without complaint.

But he is still, very much, a headstrong toddler. Hello, Parenting Adventures!

Once Upon A Time, I Wrote A Book

I finally found it. My first “novel”– 14 chapters, exactly 51 pages long, with illustrations!

The crazy part? I was 7 years old when I wrote it. I had just started the 2nd grade, my first year of homeschooling.

I showed it to my English class yesterday, and they got the biggest kick out of this page:

You know, lest anyone become afraid that you could suddenly catch a fever and go blind (what happens to the main character).

Also, the back cover clearly shows I did my research (bwahahaha!).

Hmm, a Jewish-Catholic boy? Who lives in Israel? During the Vietnam War? He and his mother actually go to church and sing hymns at one point. They also have something on their doorpost that they kiss whenever they enter the house. You know. Because everything I knew about the Jewish culture had been informed by “Fiddler on the Roof” (I was obsessed with it, at the time, because I’d just started playing the violin).

Clearly, drawing was not my strongest skill…

Also, why couldn’t I have picked names like, “Mrs. Smith”? Mrs. Shatvick? Really? Mrs. Coffman is a more believable name…but then, I can’t really take credit for that one, since our neighbors at the time were The Coffmans.

The page I read to my 9th graders was about Amazone’s birthday party, in which I mention Butterfingers THREE TIMES. Clearly, I was obsessed.

Also, he learns how to play soccer…on his hands and knees. Come on guys, this is genius. Except for the part where I say, “It’s a miricle!”

Anyways, here is the living proof– I always wanted to be either a writer or an English teacher!

Band March!

One of the cutest things EVER.

Shield Your Eyes

I haven’t posted one of these in over a month, so here you go. Props to Pinterest, once again!

reminds me of "Meet the Robinsons"

 

 

Basketball…the new obsession

He does this for 30 minutes straight, at least twice a day. While it’s a bit crazy (especially when he’s panting from all the exhaustion!), it at least allows me to get some work done!

Preview of Nick Rocks NCCS

There aren’t words…