Remember When We Worried He'd Never Do Pretend Play?

Kids pretending to make pizza:

Theo rolls out his imaginary dough and says "I'm putting flour on the board so it won't stick.*" Then he gets his Spiderman winter glove and puts it on to take his pizza out of the oven.

"Melody, be careful, it's hot. You don't want to get burned!"


*Aunt Pia, I think you get credit for this bit!

Peanut Butter = Broken Heart

I asked Melody what she had for lunch at Sharon's house today.

"Sandwich! Peanut butter!"

I smiled, but my heart was in pieces. She used to call it "nutty." I knew this day would come, but it doesn't make it any easier.

O-Tay!

Melody says O-tay. Like, really, actually says it. All this time I thought Buckwheat made it up.

I'll try to get it on tape.

First Pun: A Big Deal in This Family

"That's not YO-gurt. That's MY-gurt."

Theo comes from a long line of pun-sters, particularly on the Nicodemi side. For better or worse, he's taken his place as part of this family. I look forward to the many groans we'll share.

I Want

Reconciling the tears of happiness and tears of grief caused by these two little words

When I met Joe, I told him we would raise our kids to be little Charlies. As in, the little boy from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl. Charlie's family was so poor that they saved  up all year to buy him a chocolate bar for his birthday. Bursting with gratitude, he begged his parents to share it with him. Of course, they refused. Instead, he made the chocolate bar last for weeks by unwrapping it every night and allowing himself only the smallest taste. He never wanted anything, as long as he had the love of his family.

My plan to have a Charlie of my own went out the window when Theo was diagnosed with PDD (Pervasive Developmental Disorder) at 2. He didn't speak yet, so therapists came to my apartment 4 days a week to pry words out of him. The main focus was to get him to voice his needs with the words "I want."

After months of work, Theo eventually learned to say "I want ___" before his therapists would hand him the toy or puzzle piece he asked for. But outside of therapy, he never asked for anything. In school, he would sit there until someone offered him milk, even if the rest of the kids had already lined up for theirs. His cousins would beg for toys they saw in commercials or demand flashy cars in the toy store. Theo asked for nothing, content with whatever we gave him.

Forget about my notions of the selfless Charlie. I wanted Theo to want. If he'd asked me for every toy in the darn store, I'd have given them to him.

Now, at almost 7 years old, Theo has no problem voicing his desires. And his requests are usually so simple and sweet, I'm happy to honor them. A new kitchen stepstool for Christmas so he and Melody would no longer have to share one. A pack of Uno cards. A lollipop. If I do get the rare big request, like going ice skating, you can bet we're going ice skating.


And now I switch gears to discuss kid number two. I always dreamed of having a boy and a girl. When I learned I was having a girl, already having had my boy, I only had one more wish -- for her to be neurotypical (a crummy word, but that's what we say in the special needs world). I thought if I could have that, I wouldn't complain or ask for anything else. Wish granted. When Melody started talking, out poured our tears of joy and relief -- particularly when she began to say "I want."

And boy, does this terrible two-year-old want.

From the moment she rolls out of her bed (currently a mattress on the floor because she wants...to not be trapped in the crib) she climbs on top of me, grabs my face, and starts hurling demands. "Hey, mommy. I want milk. I want juice. I want water." (Yes, she really does want all three. At the same. time.) Sometimes, if I'm lucky, she'll throw in a "Good morning."  Then it's all whining, all the time, for the rest of the day, 'til she loses the fight against sleep.

I spend my precious little time with my daughter either giving in to her demands (after squeezing out a "please") or ignoring her while I let the tantrum run its course.

And I think about Charlie. Where is my Charlie?

I want candy!
I want ice cream!
I want to go that way. No, thaaaaat waaaaaaaay!

I want. I want. I want. Melody's sense of entitlement grates on me. At the height of my grogginess, and therefore my flair for drama, it makes me fear for her future. What if she becomes one of those obnoxious spoiled brats who make my single friends not want kids? What if such a monster is spawned from me? Me, to whom good manners, gratitude and humility are so important!

Then I remember the promise I made. I'd never take it for granted if Theo would just talk to me, or if Melody could just be a regular kid. He does, and she is. She really, really is. And I pull them in close -- my special boy and my beautiful brat -- to make a demand of my own.

"I want a hug."

"Please."

Prince Theo and Princess Jasper Once Upon a Dream

After they watched Sleeping Beauty, Jasper turned to Theo and said, "How 'bout we dance together?" He happily agreed.

You'll see at the beginning he is trying to get down and groovy but is quickly schooled on a proper waltz.

Ignore the mess, they'd been playing for hours. :)

P.S. Those kisses are all him; I didn't tell him to do that!

"I've Never Loved Her More" Moment

Kids do cute things that tear at the heartstrings on a daily basis, but every so often there's that "I've never loved you more" moment. Melody gave me one of those yesterday.

We were out to breakfast as a family, a rare and special treat for us.

Suddenly, Melody covered her eyes with both her hands and sneezed. Eggs flew out of her mouth.

We burst out laughing. She covered. her eyes. to sneeze. Close, honey, close.

Melody is Two

This morning Melody had a laughing fit--her face turned red, her eyes squinted, and she produced squeals that I hadn't heard since babyhood. How I adored her. A simple game of "I love you" followed by tickling brought her to a level of happiness that only children know. An hour later, she was sitting on my lap and suddenly said "I love you" and started tickling me with her stubby little fingers. Taken aback at her genius, I reproduced the roaring laughter and she seemed to understand. As our eyes met, we shared the moment.
I love having a two-year-old.

Celebrating Nonny's 90th Birthday With the Lovely Ladies

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1XloX1KF768

The Big Questions

Theo asked two questions I wasn't prepared to deal with in one week:

1. After 2 years of bathing together, Theo finally asked "How come Melody doesn't have a pee-pee?"

2. Where's daddy's daddy?

Um....erm....

Dreamland Musings

I'm so in love with my boy's mind, even his subconscious one.

 Theo: "I had a funny dream. I was stuck on the roof."
 Me: "Why were you stuck on the roof?
Theo: "I was trying to put the S in Sun."

Sorry and I'll Miss You

This week, Melody turned up the sweetness. (Who'd have thought that was possible?)

We went to dinner with Grandma Popcorn and Melody was climbing on the booth. Grandma told her she was worried she might get hurt. Melody said "sorry!" for the first time. Grandma, Joe and I all looked at each other--did she really just say that??

When daddy left for work this morning, Melody waved "Bye daddy! I'll miss you!" Again, for the first time. You should have seen Joe's face.

Weaning Puts the Action in Distraction

Operation: Wean
Day 4

The morning was a tad rough for my Smelly yesterday. She was cranky and wanted her de-crankifier. But she got over it soon enough.

Then Sharon had her all day while I worked. When she dropped the kids back home, lots of kids came over for a little April Fools party/contest (all the guests brought food that looked like something else). After everyone left, it was time for bath and bed.

So there was little time for her to remember she wanted to nurse. Today she'll be equally distracted.

It must be harder for stay-at-home moms to wean when their babies/toddlers are around them all day, smelling mommy.

Guess It's Laundry Day

"Mommy, you have to put underwear in the drawer. I can't wear pants without underwear!"

Nursing Gives Way to New Forms of Affection

Operation: Wean
Day 3

Every time Melody asked for "alk alk alk" I offered a hug and kiss instead. I also offered a drink or something to eat. She usually accepted one of those things.

So last night I was lying on the floor doing ab crunches with the FitTV channel, and Melody came over to lift my shirt so she could get a fix. I told her no, and what she said next surprised and delighted me: "Kiss?"

I crunched up and kissed her. Went back down. Crunched back up and kissed her again. Went back down. At this point she was laughing and understanding the game, so we kept at it--I got a workout and we both got kisses!

Since weaning I've been getting more hugs and cuddles in general. Before, any time she was close to me, she wanted to nurse. I'm looking forward to getting more of this type of affection. I looooooooooooooooove hugs from my girl!

The Reality is Sinking In: I Really Have Stopped Nursing

Operation: Wean
Day 2

Yesterday was much easier than Monday. Despite all the ice cream justifications I spouted out, I didn't even need to bring in sweet reinforcements. She accepted cereal and pasta and other drinks when I refused to nurse.

She still hasn't understood the concept of "No more boobies." She just hears "No boobies now." So she's rejected over and over again. That's the hard part. But she is at least starting to accept it more quickly, with fewer cries if any.

So wow, I haven't nursed in more than 2 days!

I've noticed just how much I really used to breastfeed, because yesterday every time she woke up or came close to me my instinct was to pull my shirt up. I had to remind myself not to do it!

In case you're wondering how much physical pain I must be in, the answer is none. I tried to wean while on a business trip in September, so I've already gone through the pain of days' worth of engorgement. When I returned from my trip, I didn't have the heart to refuse her like I planned, so we rebuilt a small supply of milk. Not enough to cause me discomfort now.

When Attempting to Wean, Have Chocolate on Hand

Operation: Wean
Day 1

Why am I finally weaning?

• Melody is about to be 22 months
• She claws at me constantly. I have scratches on my chest from her pulling down my shirt.
• She does said clawing in public--on subways, buses, in restaurants
• She is not in it for the milk. Long after she drains me she wants to suck for comfort, making me a human pacifier.
• I'm going on 3 trips for work in the next 2 months. It will be hard enough on her and Joe as it is, so if I can remove the "mommy can give Melody something daddy can't" factor I hope it will be easier on both of them in the long run.

Theo stopped nursing on his own at 9 months, so I've never weaned before. I did, however, have to wean him off the bottle at 2 years and 3 months. He was very addicted. I told Joe we were going to throw away all his bottles and stop cold turkey. It would be a hard few days but we'd just have to deal with it and then it will be over. Joe had his doubts but went along with it.

Turned out to be not so bad. Our secret weapon was ice cream. To ease his howling for the bottle, we gave him his favorite dessert. After a couple of days, he forgot all about the bottle. (Happily, Melody never really took to a bottle so it's one less thing to wean her off of. And we didn't use a pacifier with either kid.)

My strategy is the same now. Have treats at the ready when the screams come.

I'm not so much weaning as stopping cold turkey. Gradually and increasingly cutting down on feedings is the most common method of weaning. Turns out that trying to cut down on feedings wasn't in either of my kids' DNA. This method of replacing boob with ice cream would undoubtedly be unpopular with many mothers, but I remain unapologetic. If I can soften the blow of this cruelty, great!

I knew the mornings would be the hardest. When she wakes up, the first thing we do every day is lay on my bed and nurse. And nurse and nurse. This morning, at 6:30 AM, I stuck her in the high chair with ice cream and Nick Jr. on TV.

When she was finished, she lay on the couch with me tugging my shirt. I was prepared--I'm wearing a turtleneck, which I plan to wear for as long as I need to during this process. Melody begged for milk.

"Alk! Alk! Aaaaalk!"

At this point I took my mother's advice and had a conversation with her, as mom had done with Elliot. "No more boobies. You're a big girl now. Let's hug. Can we hug?" WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

I offered her a cup of warm milk and she refused. But all her wailing made her thirsty, so she eventually grabbed the cup and drank. After a few sips she tossed the cup in protest.

Later in the morning she wanted to nurse, so I made her hot chocolate. That kept her happy for a bit.

Now, as I type, she's happily munching on strawberries and ham and eggs (made with the delicious ham Joe's mom made for Palm Sunday! She sent us home with leftovers). So it hasn't been so bad. She cries, yes, but then she gets over it. I wasn't sure if she'd spend all morning whimpering, or worse, screaming. But she's fine.

How long will this take, I wonder? When will she really, truly stop asking for the breast? And when will she forget about it entirely?

In case you think I have a blase attitude about weaning, guess again. This is as hard on me as it is for my little girl. I shudder when I think:

I will never nurse again.

I put both my children to my breast the instant they were born. It has been a beautiful, special part of my bond with them.

It's Melody's greatest comfort when she gets a bruise or is sleepy. It's the one thing I can do for her that no one else can. It's ours, and no one could take it from us. Except me. It's a bittersweet ending.

I do worry that I'm choosing the time I'm ready to stop instead of when she's ready. My best comfort is knowing she won't really ever be. Addicted as she is, she'd have just as much trouble with this a year from now.

Joe has been very supportive--he has always said I should stop when I am ready. I know other dads pressure their wives to stop once the baby is "too old," so they can get what's rightfully theirs returned to them.

Boobs, when this is all over, you won't look as you once did. But I'll try to love you anyway. You may be closer to the ground, but you brought my children closer to my heart. You nourished my babies; you did what nature meant for you to do. How can I be mad at you for that?

Bronx Zoo

Our trip to the zoo this weekend was in a word--perfect.

When Theo was Melody's age we'd take him to the zoo, hoping that this time he would notice the animals. But he rarely did. It was like they didn't even exist. We always left a little sad.

But in the past year, Theo started loving the zoo! He especially likes the polar bears and penguins. It was a thrill to watch him walk around on Saturday with his hat and his map--he looked like a little safari man.

Melody was enthralled by the giraffes. She giggled at the monkeys. But most of all, she loved the simple ducks that you'd see at a pond. She gazed at them for a long time.

As you can imagine, they charmed the heck out of the 7 train passengers on the way home. They really, really adore each other.

Click here to see the rest of the zoo album.

A Note to My Daughter

Dear Melody,

I know one day you will no longer call broccoli "gocky" and grapes "apes." When that day comes, I will be sad.

Love,
Mom

Where's the Shooting Thing?

Another proud parenting moment--Theo asked me where the shooting thing is. He was talking about the nerf gun he got for Xmas, which I hid and he recently found. I love that he doesn't even know the word gun!

More recent cute-isms that I posted to Facebook but should really mention here:

• Theo wants Aunt Gloria Nicodemi to come over so he can make her avatar on the Wii. (A mii.) He wanted to know if he could put a baby inside.

• Melody just handed me my pants from the laundry and said "get dressed."