Let's go fly

A picked out a kite today at Costco. It looks like a scarlet macaw. He's busy banging it into every piece of furniture downstairs right now.

I called the airline to buy A a ticket for our flight to CO in June. The woman who got me was brand spanking new and was extremely well-intentioned but completely incapable of getting me a ticket for A. Having done this a couple times now, I know the process:

1. They have to create a completely new reservation for A since adding to ours results in change fees.
2. They have to put in some overrides on whatever the current pricing is to buy another seat with the discount code we bought our ticket under.
3. They have to mark this seat as "infant" and put it through some algorithm to come up with a price that's 50% less than the adult ticket.
4. They have to apply his frequent flier number.
   
5. They have to apply taxes and fees, which makes the price closer to 25% off the adult ticket.
6. They have to add a note to his reservation that says "Infant traveling with parents."
   
7. They have to seat him with us.
   
8. They have to cross-reference our reservation with his reservation just in case the seating changes for some reason and someone tries to seat an infant away from his parents.
9. They have to take the $15 phone ticketing fee off since they don't allow infant seats to be purchased through the website.

This is a little complicated for one's first day of ticketing, don't you think? After a couple game tries, she put me through to a supervisor. I felt so bad for her that at the end of the call, I told the supervisor that the new person had been very kind and accommodating and that she should pass my regards along to her, that I understood this was a weird thing.

This will probably be his last flight as an infant. Sigh.

Easter and whatnot

I've gotten some alone time and seen A be cranky around C, so I'm feeling better.

We tried coloring eggs here but that wasn't happening. I handed A an egg to put in dye. He banged it against the table until it cracked, then threw the peeled egg on the floor. C and I did two dozen eggs ourselves. Maybe next year he'll be more into coloring eggs....

He did much better with the egg hunt we had around the house Sunday morning. We put pretzels in plastic eggs and once he'd gotten into the swing of the egg thing, he was happy. He got one dark chocolate nonpareil. This kid likes the good stuff.

Yesterday we had swimming, which A did fabulous in, really. He kicked and paddled and almost floated but didn't quite. He's close to floating. He smiles and claps and plays along with the songs.

End of my rope

I realize this should be an upbeat, peppy post because it's been so freaking long since I posted, but it's not going to be. This is a mommy angst post.

A is twenty months now, almost. And he's full-on into establishing his independence and testing boundaries and all of that. He runs everywhere and has ginormous amounts of energy from reserves I cannot access.

And I am tired, people. I am tired and worn and run-down and frustrated.

It feels like one step forward, three steps back. When he says "thank you" now, he often adds "you're welcome," which is so freaking cute and endearing. Sometimes he listens very well when I tell him that as we walk down the street, he needs to hold my hand or hold onto the stroller (wall, whatever). And he holds out his hand for me to hold as sweet as pie.

Then he runs into the street in front of a car, or hits another kid in the head with a toy, or tries to bite me when I remove him from the street or the fracas. Then I feel like a complete failure, like this boy of mine will be a terror or a brat or a demon due to my inability to apply the proper parenting techniques at the right time.

And I am so frustrated I could just scream and cry and have my own fit. Does A do this with C? Not really, but C's not with him as much as I am. But maybe C has the big boy voice that makes A obey him. Or maybe A's into daddy worship these days. Or C's a mountain compared to me who scares the crap out of A. I can't decipher this one in my current state.

I know this will pass. I know consistency is the name of this game. Some day A will learn and borrow the car and get Axe body spray. But right now, I feel very frustrated and sad and alone.

First compound sentence

First legible by other people one, anyway, and the first one without signs. (Most of our compound sentences seem to include the signs for "more" and "please.") Leaving the house Thursday night, giving A running commentary on what we're doing: "Now, we have to get your shoes on and get in the car, because we have to go in the car and get Daddy from work."

A runs to the garage door, a shoe in each hand, laughing and saying, "Get Daddy! Get Daddy!"

Mommy the monster

I'm sure all parents have the "oh hell" days, where they realize (after the fact) that their kid has recognized something they had not and parenting decisions were made in error.

This is today for me.

We went to the zoo after A's morning nap. He was walking around pretty well. I offered him his cup, and he didn't want it, which is pretty common, so we walked around some more. He kept signing drink at me, and I offered him the cup, which he threw on the ground.

I got irritated and told him that if he didn't want a drink, he should just put it back in the basket where it belongs. He took the cup out of the basket and threw it, with great vehemence, on the ground, away from the stroller.

I picked up the cup, put it back in the basket, informed A that he had a choice between continuing to walk or riding in the stroller but that he was going to leave that cup alone and if he didn't he would be put into the stroller and we would leave the zoo immediately.

He threw the cup on the ground again.

He kicked and screamed when I buckled him into the stroller but quieted quickly and I walked him out of the middle of the zoo as quickly as possible with no conversation.

We get to the car and what is there? A's sippy cup.

What cup have I been offering him? The one from yesterday with mildew-scented bacteria-laden disgusting nasty water.

Was my boy trying to communicate, hey, Mom, this water is nasty; could you get me some more? Yes. Did I get it? No.

So now I'm going to assuage my bad parent guilt with Mary Poppins and cookies. He's already got fresh water. I wonder what disease he'll get from sipping nasty day-old water.

Wow, he's growing

We went to the doctor for a bad case of diaper rash (which is fine, really, I'm just a first-time overprotective mommy who thinks one week is really too long for a diaper rash) and he's 26.4 pounds (with shoes). He is huge.

He's adding words like crazy. After a visit from L, he picked up "that," which is his new favorite word. Yesterday at swimming he picked up "gog" for goggles. It's hard for me to document what words he's picking up because he's often repeating words when we say them but not replicating them on his own later.

Swimming is going fabulously well, btw. He's this close to floating on his own, which is the next big step for him. He's kicking and paddling through water when we dip him now.

Visitors away

We've had a flurry of visitors from Denver and Portland and now it's back to just the three of us. It's fun to have visitors and we're sad to see them go, but it's also nice to say, ah, what will we do today, just us three?

A is super smart. I know you all knew that. At nineteen months, he has figured out how to get movies to play from a menu by pushing the buttons on the DVD player itself, something C and I don't know how to do (and C is not a clueless Luddite when it comes to technology). That's a milestone right there.

He's into kissing and hugging right now, which is so cute. Big hugs, big kisses.