Sprite's Keeper

Celebrating the family firecracker

Last year, I snapped this photo of Sprite and John as we took in the city's July 4th celebration, completely unaware that another kind of fireworks was happening elsewhere in the state.

That night, we came home, waterlogged from the downpour, and found a message on our phone. Our sister-in-law, still about a month away from her due date, had gone into labor and delivered our niece Alyssa, thus cementing our July 4th plans for the foreseeable future.

 

(I know, cute, right? You want one, don't you?)

I can't believe a year has passed so quickly and now Alyssa can finally claim a finger for "How old are you?" questions.

 

From a firecracker of a baby to a very laid back almost toddler, she has claimed her spot in the family with ease. I don't think I have one picture of a cross face for her.

 

..Well, okay. Maybe one. I'm sure she can hold her own against Sprite in the attention getting arena.
 

 

She's already trying..

Happy birthday, Alyssa.You may have to share your birthday with America, but we'll always say those fireworks are for you. (...Until you're old enough to know better. But let's leave those myths like fireworks and Santa alone so you can discover the truth like every other kid out there. In school.) 

To everyone else out there, have a happy and SAFE Fourth of July! 

Spin Cycle: Playing Devil's Advo-kid

I think kids are getting a bum rap these days.

Sprite is in the throes of the Terrible Two's. Allegedly. Personally, I have no idea why this stigma is allowed to continue being tossed around the parenting circles. There IS no such thing as Terrible Two's. (Gasp!) That's right! I said it!

Sure, she has her tantrums and her mood swings, she will only accept a pink cup some days and refuse it on other days, and Heaven forbid I approach her with shorts when she has her heart set on a dress, but is it really all that terrible?

Researchers have already broken it down for us plebeians (read: parents) that children at this age are simply frustrated when they can't do things themselves or can't articulate what they want when they want it or can't re-wire the dogs. We all know this. So, why are we still saying it's Terrible?

Maybe it's not the kids that are Terrible. (I hear grumbling.. calm down and just hear me out)

Maybe it's us parents. (Okay, who threw that keyboard? That is NOT nice.)

I'm coming to the conclusion that Sprite's mind is pretty much on a one way track. It's me that can't seem to keep up sometimes. Her ups and downs are to be expected. I just can't expect that MY ups and downs will be in sync with hers all the time, which is where the frustration of parenting a toddler comes into play.

Have I completely lost you? Hm.. let me see.. Oh, okay, you took a left at the conclusion part when you should have gone right.... Okay. We're on the same page now. (That is, if you're still on the same site..)

Sometimes I can handle any mood Sprite is in. If I tell her no to a repeated viewing of "The Lion King" and she reacts with her standard "I wahnnt the Liiiooonnn Kiiiiinnnngg", I can immediately set about dissolving the situation with cheer ("How about we take your tricycle outside and practice riding?") or sneer ("I said no!"). I try to pick Door Number 1 every time which usually snuffs the wick on her lit fuse, but sometimes I do default to Door Number 2, which only acts as an accelerant to make my kiddie go kaboom. Why would I go with Number 2? It depends on how the day is going.

My kid doesn't retain emotions. If Tommy hits her at school, she will only think about that pain until it recedes and maybe later fill me in on how she took a slug to the kidney on the playground, but generally when I ask how her day went, her standard answer is "I played with friends." (Every day, the same answer. I think they train the kids to say that. And they are smart to do it..) Her mood is based on what she's looking forward to as we walk out the daycare door. (The cheese stick waiting in the van for her. You know, come to think of it, I really need to switch up her snacks.) When she blows her top, she vents until she's done and then moves on to the next activity, which may or may not include redecorating the walls.

Now ask me how my day went. Traffic was a nightmare and made me late, Dunkin Donuts screwed up my coffee AGAIN (Do they really think I can't tell the difference between cream and milk? Please DD people, hit the target more often, my THIGHS will thank you!), the server went down at work, I had to deal with other people's bad moods, I burned my popcorn which made for some pretty bad snacking, my eyes were straining at the computer, thunder and lightning made me late to pick Sprite up, traffic slowed to a crawl because the roadside watermelon stand was having Buy One Get One, and we walked into the house to see that John left the milk out on the counter meaning we have no moo juice. Sometimes, I can shirk the dourness my day tried to heap on me. Sometimes, I can't. So, when Sprite immediately asks me if she can give her dolls a bath in the washing machine and then proceeds to vault Sleeping Beauty into the unit, my response may vary.

Have you ever watched another parent discipline their toddler and think you would do it differently? Maybe they were yelling a bit too much or being a bit too patient? Did you ever stop and consider that your judgment may be based on your current mood?

Okay, so this is only a theory. Maybe I just have it really easy. Maybe Sprite is just a really good kid and in no way represents the rest of the preschooler population who seem hell bent on making Mommy cry at least three times a day.

I happen to think the second year is the best one yet. Her words are growing faster than she is, her imagination amazes me, and her take on the world is refreshing. I can't wait until the Three's! (You know, the end of potty training and all..)

Am I actually in touch with my kid or out of touch with reality? I would love to hear your two cents on this.

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I have loved reading about all of your kid stories! Just check out these Spinners!

Arwen over at Spors in the Desert

Pseudo over at Pseudonymous High School Teacher 

Stacy over at True Blue Texan 

Lisa over at Boondock Ramblings 

Cristin over at Tiptoeing Through The Tulips 

Jan over at Jan's Sushi Bar 

Stacy over at True Blue Texan -Part II !

Camille over at Archives of Our Lives 

Maureen over at IslandRoar 

Mama Badger over at Out of the Boondocks and Into the Burbs... 

Erin over at Only A Movie -New to the Spin Cycle!

Meli over at Meli's Rambling Randomness -Updated today! Fresh Spin!

Kendra over at Life In The Slow Lane -Updated today! Fresh Spin!

Gigi over at Incrementum -Updated today! Fresh Spin!

Jenni over at Oscarelli -Updated today! Fresh Spin!

Casey over at Half As Good As You -Updated today! Fresh Spin!

JHS over at Colloquium -Updated Sunday! Fresh Spin!

Cyndi over at The Adventures of HarryJack -Updated Sunday! Memories Spin! Fresh!

Don't forget to say hi to the new Spinners and go a round with the veterans!

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Next week's assignment: Driving.

Do you like to live life in the fast lane? Have you ever succumbed to road rage? Been a victim of it?  Maybe you think of life as one big road trip. Are you driving someone crazy? Maybe they're driving YOU crazy.. Need to work on your drive swing? How about learning to drive? Teaching your kids to drive? (I'm praying for you on that one..) Or carpools. Well, make a pit stop here and fill up your tank while you fill us in on the details!

Have those Spins in by July 10th or the bus will leave without you!

By the way, you owe me gas money.

Little Bunny Spew Spew

(As soon as I thought of the title, I started cracking up.)

"Time to get out, kid."

"No!"

"Come on. We have to get ready and go in the blue car to meet Daddy at the restaurant."

"No! No blue car!"

"What if I sing 'Little Bunny Foo Foo'? Then will you get out?"

Sprite considers this from her place among the drowned Dwarfs as she continues slapping her hands at the bubbles. "Okay."

She raises her arms and allows me to pluck her from the tub and wrap her in a towel.

I carry her over to my bed where her clothes are laid out and start the drying process, sneaking a few passes at her head with the towel since she hates to have her hair dried. (I have no idea why. The kid just screams when I venture toward the tresses. I don't recall any towel trauma in her pre-preschool days..)

"Bunny Foo Foo!" she demands.

"Dressed first," I reply. She submits to my control, letting me shove her legs into shorts, something she abhors as of late. (Any other girly-girl parents out there? Seriously? A dress EVERY DAY?) Finally, she is ready and we have a few minutes before we have to go, so I can pay my end of the bargain.

"Bunny Foo Foo!"

"Okay," I say, "Bunny Foo Foo." Grabbing her hands, I let her find her balance as she stands up on my side of the bed. "Ready?"

She giggles in anticipation.

As I begin to sing, she jumps in place.

"Little Bunny Foo Foo, hopping through the forest, scooping up the field mice and bopping them on the head."

She laughs out. "Goon! Goon!" Her feet continue to strike the mattress in quick succession.

"No, not yet. And the fairy said, Little Bunny Foo Foo, I don't want to see you scooping up the field mice and bopping them on the head."

"You a goon!" She bounces higher.

"You have three chances- Sprite, how many is three?"

She pauses and holds up her left hand, trying to place her three middle fingers before calling in the assistance of her right hand to finalize the effort. "Three!"

"Good job! And if you mess up, I'm turning you into a GOON!"

"Goon!" she croons.

"Little Bunny Foo Foo hopping through the forest- Sprite?"

She's stopped jumping and stands there, still holding my hands, but swaying as bit as her face contorts.

"You okay?"

She swallows a few times and a greenish pallor comes over her complexion. Oh, crap. The kid is going to blow.

"Do you need to throw up?" I see her nod a bit and take action.

I don't even think about it as I lift her up slightly and move her over to John's side of the bed. There she stands, with me holding her still, her eyes adjusting to the obvious vertigo she's experiencing. She gulps one more time and then looks up at me, the pink returning to her cheeks.

"Goon! Again!" she crows, ready to jump.

Crisis averted, I ease her a little more gently through the rest of the song and we leave to meet John and our friends for dinner.

(Best part about it all? I completely owned up to John at dinner about the possible sacrifice his part of the bed would have made. And laughed. Hard.)

(Yes, you should feel bad for him.. But not too bad. We were meeting him after he and those friends were done watching the Transformers movie, a movie I had wanted to see...)

(Hee hee, the title STILL has me laughing! In fact, it's my favorite title ever! I shall keep it and feed it and name it George.)

(Yes, I'm easily amused.)