Tonight I was in the kichen when Rosie came in and asked for a glass of plain milk before bed.
Sure, I said. After all, she'd gotten into a chocolate milk habit with us I had begun to worry was another reflection of poor parental decision making. This was a request for plain milk.
Then Mike appeared who explained he had told Rosie just seconds before she could have water, not milk.
Oh, I said, in that case, you can have water, Rosie. Like Mike said. (Don't worry. Rosie had a glass of chocolate milk only 5 minutes before and wasn't starving or in dire need of calcium.)
She took her water and was momentarily upset with us both upon realizing we couldn't be played against one another. I've learned when we have to say no, or offer a consequence, it's best to not dwell on it because she does. So, water in hand we all went to her room, where we read her another chapter of Matilda and Rosie went to sleep feeling ok.
I also realized how smart our daughter is. Not only did she seek out a second opinion, but she played me well with the plain milk instead of chocolate milk.
After she went to bed, Mike and I both laughed about it and have docked another lesson away: avoid the trap. No matter how simple the request, make sure the other parent is in agreement.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Our family is complete
Rosie playing her DS on the way home on move-in day. Today really is the start of a whole new phase of life for all of us.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Room Follow-Up
So many people have expressed concern, sympathy or dismay in regard to the color of Rosie's room, I thought I would post an update.
Her door complete with a self-made sign:
Her door complete with a self-made sign:
The end result...which is actually a pretty warm color of pink.
With her new, purple rug--yes it's girly.
February 5th - The Move In Day!
February 5th, Rosie moves in. Yay!!!
Today we secured her placement in Marcy Elementary, and we're working on all the other details for her arrival. Of course, this past month has continued pour. Just when I think I've set out enough buckets to manage all the rain, the sky opens up again. Except, the more overwhelmed I feel, even the slightest mist can start to feel like a flood.
Today, for example, I was heading to work after having to stay home yesterday because of an upset stomach, chills and hot flashes. Yuck. On the way into work my car got stuck. Then, on 94, this little wrench indicator light in my dashboard turned on and the car decelerated. So I pulled off and called Mike in panic. He didn't answer. Then I called the Ford dealership and felt frustrated beyond belief when the mechanic said to just shut down my car and re-start it.
I did, and sure enough the light went away. So I got back on 94 and not more than 5 miles down the road it happened again. I've been stranded on the freeway before. It's no fun. So I got off the freeway and called the garage again. They told me the same thing as the first call and said I probably just had snow stuck near some sort of indicator thing. I should take side roads to work though, just in case.
I think the mechanic could hear the panic in my voice because on the second call he used a very soothing voice tried to help me reason: "well you could drive it in, but isn't that double the distance to your office?" "yea," I said pretty uncertainly. My lack of confidence followed me down Snelling and into my parking ramp where I prayed that my car would start at the end of the day.
The car did start, and my overwhelmed feeling started to fade. However, I am certain uncertainity and feeling overwhelmed are just par for the course for some time to come.
In the mean time, here are some photos from the past weekend to help me focus on the positive, end goal.
Rosie's First Time as a 5K Supporter
Rosie Meets Her Aunt Paula and Uncle Brian and Sees Snow Sculptures for the First Time
Rosie meets her Cousin Abby, Aunt Brenda and Uncle Al
Today we secured her placement in Marcy Elementary, and we're working on all the other details for her arrival. Of course, this past month has continued pour. Just when I think I've set out enough buckets to manage all the rain, the sky opens up again. Except, the more overwhelmed I feel, even the slightest mist can start to feel like a flood.
Today, for example, I was heading to work after having to stay home yesterday because of an upset stomach, chills and hot flashes. Yuck. On the way into work my car got stuck. Then, on 94, this little wrench indicator light in my dashboard turned on and the car decelerated. So I pulled off and called Mike in panic. He didn't answer. Then I called the Ford dealership and felt frustrated beyond belief when the mechanic said to just shut down my car and re-start it.
I did, and sure enough the light went away. So I got back on 94 and not more than 5 miles down the road it happened again. I've been stranded on the freeway before. It's no fun. So I got off the freeway and called the garage again. They told me the same thing as the first call and said I probably just had snow stuck near some sort of indicator thing. I should take side roads to work though, just in case.
I think the mechanic could hear the panic in my voice because on the second call he used a very soothing voice tried to help me reason: "well you could drive it in, but isn't that double the distance to your office?" "yea," I said pretty uncertainly. My lack of confidence followed me down Snelling and into my parking ramp where I prayed that my car would start at the end of the day.
The car did start, and my overwhelmed feeling started to fade. However, I am certain uncertainity and feeling overwhelmed are just par for the course for some time to come.
In the mean time, here are some photos from the past weekend to help me focus on the positive, end goal.
Rosie's First Time as a 5K Supporter
Bunny Ears!
Not so happy to be up that early.
Still not thrilled bout being up so early.
Rosie Meets Her Aunt Paula and Uncle Brian and Sees Snow Sculptures for the First Time
The St. Paul Winter Carnival's Snow Maze.
Mike enjoying following Rosie through the maze
Uncle Brian and Aunt Paula were joined us despite the cold when the conservatory was way to full.
(thank you!)
Rosie meets her Cousin Abby, Aunt Brenda and Uncle Al
Rosie Dancing!
Goofy cousins
Rosie and her Aunt Brenda, Cousin Abby and Uncle Al
I said what?
There have been two times I have heard myself uttering words I swore I never would.
First, I have tried to use guilt to get Rosie to Eat.
Sunday we were having pizza and salad with Rosie's Uncle Al, Aunt Brenda and Cousin Abby. It was the first meeting, and it had gone pretty well. Rosie poured a huge amount of dressing on hers and started to toss it when she asked why she had water. When soda was brought up, I said that Rosie doesn't like or drink much soda. She gave me a look that I could tell meant she didn't appreciate my mothering.
After that, she lost interest in her salad. As I ate I tried to not focus on how Rosie wasn't eating, but it was kind of like a neon light at the edge of the table. I couldn't ignore it. Even though I know my family members weren't judging me, I felt this odd pressure to make sure Rosie ate. Not only because she should but otherwise, that neon light would flash an arrow my way and somehow reflect on me as her mom.
So I said, "Rosie, aren't you hungry?" Not really, she replied poking at some of her salad. Then I uttered something I was sure I would never say, are you ready for this? It's horrible. It's like for a second I become my grandma:
I said: "Well, you should try to eat some of it, Brenda worked hard on that salad."
Yes, I, without thinking about it, used guilt to attempt to get Rosie to eat. As soon as I said it, I wanted to suck the words back. I couldn't though, and I wasn't sure if she saw how shaken I was by this guilty tactic that came out of my subconscious. It was hard wired in me by years of living with a mom and grandma who employed it handily.
I explained this to my mom who laughed and said, "You're a mom! A mom feels guilty about guilt-tripping." She then went on to explain how worried I seem to look now, which is how moms are. Moms are hyper about everything, she explained, while dads are more laid back. She thought my look of concern as a good sign. I don't know about that. Especially if I will resort to tricks I swore I'd never use this early into parenthood.
Second, I used the word calorie when explaining why Rosie couldn't have an entire chocolate chip cake at KFC. As in "you can't have that because of all the calories in it." This bums me out because I don't want to raise a daughter who is hung up on weight and calorie counting--at least not because of me. Next time, I'll say, "because that's not healthy."
First, I have tried to use guilt to get Rosie to Eat.
Sunday we were having pizza and salad with Rosie's Uncle Al, Aunt Brenda and Cousin Abby. It was the first meeting, and it had gone pretty well. Rosie poured a huge amount of dressing on hers and started to toss it when she asked why she had water. When soda was brought up, I said that Rosie doesn't like or drink much soda. She gave me a look that I could tell meant she didn't appreciate my mothering.
After that, she lost interest in her salad. As I ate I tried to not focus on how Rosie wasn't eating, but it was kind of like a neon light at the edge of the table. I couldn't ignore it. Even though I know my family members weren't judging me, I felt this odd pressure to make sure Rosie ate. Not only because she should but otherwise, that neon light would flash an arrow my way and somehow reflect on me as her mom.
So I said, "Rosie, aren't you hungry?" Not really, she replied poking at some of her salad. Then I uttered something I was sure I would never say, are you ready for this? It's horrible. It's like for a second I become my grandma:
I said: "Well, you should try to eat some of it, Brenda worked hard on that salad."
Yes, I, without thinking about it, used guilt to attempt to get Rosie to eat. As soon as I said it, I wanted to suck the words back. I couldn't though, and I wasn't sure if she saw how shaken I was by this guilty tactic that came out of my subconscious. It was hard wired in me by years of living with a mom and grandma who employed it handily.
I explained this to my mom who laughed and said, "You're a mom! A mom feels guilty about guilt-tripping." She then went on to explain how worried I seem to look now, which is how moms are. Moms are hyper about everything, she explained, while dads are more laid back. She thought my look of concern as a good sign. I don't know about that. Especially if I will resort to tricks I swore I'd never use this early into parenthood.
Second, I used the word calorie when explaining why Rosie couldn't have an entire chocolate chip cake at KFC. As in "you can't have that because of all the calories in it." This bums me out because I don't want to raise a daughter who is hung up on weight and calorie counting--at least not because of me. Next time, I'll say, "because that's not healthy."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)